#not because she thought they were right. but because it's so hard for her to say that her mother is wrong

[barcaatthemoon]

sunny || alexia putellas x reader ||

alexia thinks it's going to be a bad game until she spots you.

alexia's fists were balled up at her sides as she stood in the tunnel. she was desperately trying not to become overwhelmed with frustration. she had spoken with jona at great length about this being her first full 90 back. she felt good all week at practice, but during the warm ups, things took a bad turn.

nothing connected for alexia. her passes felt sloppy, and all the confirmation she needed was the look on her training partner's face. every move that alexia made felt awkward and uncomfortable. a part of her questioned whether she should start at all, but she had to. even if your work meeting ran over, you'd want to tune into the game and see her play. alexia wanted to do this for you.

the two of you had gotten together just after the world cup. you had seen alexia play before, but not really as her girlfriend. alexia wanted the chance to impress you, even if she thought that you couldn't actually come to today's game. she knew that you'd be watching her no matter what, so she absolutely had to play well for you.

"hey ale, isn't that your girl?" sandra teased as she pointed towards the stands. alexia's eyes followed the direction of sandra's finger until she saw you sitting next to her mother. alba sat on your other side, looking bored as the two of you chatted.

"that's her." alexia smiled as she watched the interaction. alba nudged you, interrupting your conversation to point out that alexia was staring. you looked over at her and waved excitedly, just like you always did. alexia waved back at you, hopeful that the heat she felt coming up to her cheeks wasn't visible.

it was silly, but alexia swore that she felt immediately better after you had smiled at her. she had been fully prepared to go into the game feeling awkward and a little uncomfortable, but now she didn't have to. alexia's movements were much more fluid, allowing for her to get a brace within the first half of the game.

barcelona was always a dominant team, and you had always seen alexia as their best player. today, she was proving everybody who had doubted her because of the injury wrong. you were standing and screaming in the stands cheering her on. by the end of the 90 minute game, you were absolutely exhausted as if you had played alongside your girlfriend.

"i think it is safe to say that la reina is back," patri teased as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulders. she glanced over at the stands where you were following alexia's mother as you and alba spoke to each other. alexia tried to shove patri away, but claudia and jana were right there to replace her.

"hmm, i seem to remember somebody very grumpy about today's game earlier." jana tapped her chin as she pretended to think about something. "i wonder what could have changed?"

"guys," alexia warned. her warning fell on deaf ears, but alexia couldn't bring herself to be genuinely mad with them. they were like her children, and you never did let alexia get too hard on them.

"i thought i saw a certain artist in the stands chatting with the better putellas," claudia teased. alexia did swat at the girl for the joke about alba being better. claudia winced and made a show of rubbing her arm, knowing that you were looking at her.

"stop being such a baby, it didn't hurt that badly," alexia grumbled. still, claudia held the pout until the group reached the barrier. alexia realized a second too late when she saw you dart towards claudia instead of her what had happened.

"ale, you can't just hit her. babe, i know you think you're being playful, but you are a lot stronger than you know," you scolded her lightly. alexia rolled her eyes as she shoved claudia away before she could get a hug from you. alexia put herself directly into your arms, squeezing you tight and lifting you into the air as she hugged you. "good game today, i've missed seeing you on the field."

"my little good luck charm," alexia mumbled. behind her, you caught claudia and patri mocking the two of you.

"behave, children," you warned. this time, they both jumped apart and stood still. alexia didn't understand how you could do that, but she was glad that you were around to do so. "go shower and get changed, i was thinking that we could go out to eat?"

"that sounds perfect," alexia hummed. you gave her a moment with her family as you gathered up your things. you waited inside for alexia, not wanting to risk getting a sunburn or heat sickness any more than you already had.

"does it hurt?" mapi asked as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulder. for a moment, alexia was genuinely touched that her friend was concerned about the wellbeing of her knee, but that only lasted a couple of seconds. "is the whip that (y/n) uses gentle?"

"shut up," alexia grumbled.

"no, come on. i saw you staring at her all game. i'm surprised you managed to get a touch on the ball with such a big distraction. you stare at her like an idiot stares at the sun." as if alexia needed an example, mapi turned and stared up at the lights with her mouth wide open.

"i was not staring like that, nor was i saring at all. if anything, i took brief pauses to admire (y/n) after i scored or got an assist. if she's willing to take time out of her busy schedue to support me, the least i can do is score for her," alexia reasoned. mapi thought it was all bullshit; sweet, sappy, romantic bullshit.

"whatever, just make sure she keeps coming if you're gonna play like that when she's here."

"trust me, i will," alexia promised. she wanted you at every single one of her games, club and international. if she made it to another world cup, she wanted you to be waiting for a kiss after they won it.

[spaghettiposts]

It’s okay to need help

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Snapping at your wife was the last thing you wanted to do, but between the pressures of financial disputes you do. You both seek to make things right.

Warnings: arguments, slight angst, hurt/comfort, this was supposed to be way more angsty but I’m weak. Wife Wanda fluff

Word count: 1.1k

A/n: Honestly just a short little drabble and writing practice, I might do more writing prompts. This little thing took a toll on me and I’m suffering through writers block 😞 reblogs are SUPER appreciated please yall 🙏

Your eyes burned and you weren’t sure if it was from the dim kitchen lighting or the tears prickling inside you. 

Papers were messily scattered across the table, their contents a jumbled blur that you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on. Not while your mind was elsewhere—with Wanda.

Wanda who wasn’t sitting with you like she always was when going over expenses, stroking your shoulders to relieve some of the tension, laying her head to rest on you while her lips pressed delicately against your cheek. You missed your wife, by gods you did. But you were stubborn.

Instead of apologizing, you’d gaze over longingly hoping she’d somehow see you—read your mind and spare you just one look, but her attention remained focused on the television, curled into the couch; playing her comfort show. 

It drove you crazy how desperately you wanted her to see you, but you knew that wasn’t fair of you to ask.

Arguments with Wanda felt like the ground crumbling beneath your feet, threatening to swallow you whole at any moment. The sight of her tear-stained cheeks tore at your soul, and you hated the way it was your fault. Hurting her was a vow you promised never to make, but relationships wouldn’t be without their faults, no matter how hard one tried.

In those initial months of calling Wanda your wife, every moment felt like peaceful bliss, a love so pure you thought how could loving her possibly be a sin in God’s eyes? Then the bliss turned to ignorance, somewhere along the lines.

Fights became frequent, and crying did too. 

And hell, you figured maybe after marriage there wouldn’t be so many. For years, you shared a room in the compound, and you knew each other's routines by heart, you knew Wanda. But in the compound, there weren't any expenses, not like now, now that you were sitting at the kitchen island with an abundance of bills that only seemed to keep stacking up. And up. And up. 

Waves of stress fell on your shoulders as you stared, wondering how you got into this financial state. Never had you once felt as useless as you had now and it was only digging into you further, on the verge of crushing the sanctuary you had built with Wanda; that was threatening to crumble, and you knew you couldn’t do this anymore. Not when your heart ached so badly for your wife.

Setting aside your previous frustrations, you pushed your chair out and let the papers fall from your hands, figuring you’d deal with them later. You sucked in a breath, trying to regain some composure but with Wanda? Collecting yourself was pretty impossible. 

Crossing the living room you cautiously approached your wife, slowly sitting beside her but still she didn’t turn to acknowledge you. She lay with her back facing you, tucked into a small crimson blanket. 

You smiled fondly, recalling how you had gotten the blanket because it reminded you of her, one that she promptly stole, with the excuse of it smelling like you bringing her solace when you weren’t around. The sight of her like this shattered your heart. 

With a sigh, you inched closer until you were pressed against her back. When she didn’t tense, you wrapped your arm around her waist, pulling her close. Wanda sighed as you peppered kisses against her skin, first on her cheek and then her neck. The act wasn’t sexual of any kind, but loving lingering ones you knew she loved, needed, and craved after every argument.

Knowing that she preferred your touch, you gave yourself to her, smiling when her fingers interlaced with yours. She still needed you just as much as you needed her. 

A beat of silence passed as you relaxed further into each other, and your eyes momentarily strayed away from the TV to shift into a seated position. You knew you had to say something before things got harder. 

Before Wanda could question you spoke up: 

“I’m sorry Wanda, I never meant for things to get so…heated.” You murmured sincerely, running your fingers through the loose strands of her hair and Wanda sighed.  

Leaning against your side, Wanda mimicked your position, bringing her knees to her chest. 

She gave you a halfhearted smile. “I’m sorry too, I should’ve come to you first before calling Tony for money this month. I messed up.”

You denied it with your head, bringing her into a warm embrace, and kissing the crown of her head. “No no, you did nothing wrong. Your intentions were good and I shouldn’t have shouted that way. I just…it’s difficult for me, you know?” Your explanation came slowly, averting her gaze, and Wanda gripped your shirt tighter. “I don’t like asking for help.” 

The confession fell flat on your lips, leaving a bitter aftertaste in your mouth and you felt silly. But instead of ridicule, you were met with the soft touch of Wanda’s hands, cupping your cheeks as if to reassure your embarrassment. Her thumbs felt good on your skin and slowly coaxed you to look at her.  

You opened your mouth to speak but before you got the chance Wanda was bringing your lips together in a slow tender kiss and you sighed. No matter how long you lived you were certain of one thing: you’d never tire of the feeling of Wanda’s lips on yours. 

When the need for air became overwhelming, you reluctantly broke the kiss, shivering at her touch. Her forehead resting on yours, breath fanning your lips. 

“It’s okay to need help, detka, and we need help.” She affirmed, gently squeezing your hands while stealing kisses between each word till your frown disappeared. 

You rolled your eyes affectionately at her actions, not being able to frown anymore and finally pulling her into a longer kiss, something you both craved.

“I’ll talk to Tony tomorrow.” You tell her, and her lips purse in hesitation.

“Dorogaya…if you’re not ready—“

“I’m ready Wanda, I don’t want to be worrying about how much we spend anymore. I want to focus on more important things, like us. I mean you still want kids right?” You asked tentatively and Wanda stifled a laugh at how stiffened you were. 

“Yes Y/n, I still want kids with you.” Wanda chuckled softly, shaking her head. “But I’m serious, and kids are far from where we are now. Are you absolutely sure?” 

“I’m sure.” You nodded. 

Still, Wanda pulled away from you, studying your expression. When she found nothing, she softened, giving you a supportive nod and a big grin. Your smile widened, and you advanced on her the next second earning a squeal, peppering her face with kisses and laughing along with her.

All you could think of was how grateful you were to have a wife like her. 

Change was hard but with Wanda, the weight felt easier to carry, and with time you’d learn you wouldn’t have to bear that alone anymore. There were still things you had to fix and you wouldn’t rest until you made things right with your wife but for now, you had a phone call to make. Within weeks you’d be changing jobs and attitudes. Things wouldn’t always be an easy route but you’d sure as hell try harder. For her.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

it got worse ft. choso kamo!

this is part two to my fic "just a distraction". so, i recommend that you read that first lol (but it can be read as a standalone too!)

set-up: after your plan to distract your academic rival backfired so hard, you don't have it in you to seek him out. well, is it a blessing or a curse when he decides he will seek you out instead then?

warnings: PORN WITH PLOT; nsfw thoughts includes cunnilingus, in public, dirty talking. mdni as always :)

"are you serious?" yuuta gave you a skeptical look.

"what?" you defended by hiding your face under a pillow and avoiding your friends' concerned looks.

"i'm sorry but it's the third day you're missing lecture. over a boy. who even are you?" maki continued where yuuta left off.

"she's lovesick, is what she is. or dicksic—" nobara quipped up next.

you threw the pillow at the source of her voice. then, slowly, you looked up at your three friends, who stood there as if observing an animal in the zoo. except this wasn't a zoo, it was your dorm room. and the animal under surveillance was you.

"this was all your plan!" you pointed at nobara accusingly.

"my plan was to go fuck choso's brain out so that you can get an edge over him in academics. my plan wasn't for you to develop a crush on his weird ass."

"i don't have a crush on him!" you tried to cool off your burning face by fanning it, "i just can't see him again. what am i gonna say?? hey choso remember the day i came over during break like a month ago and you went down on me? i can't fucking stop thinking about that or about you! what are your thoughts on that, choso hm?"

"well, when you phrase it so pathetically-"

yuuta cut off the green-haired athlete lest she say something downright stupid, "see, i am sure choso won't bring it up either. he hasn't made an effort to like text you or anything. it's been a whole month, i am sure he doesn't really care all that much?"

"ughh. how is that consoling to hear? that means whatever happened between us probably sucked."

"well you did suck—"

"—nobara!"

"point being." yuuta reasoned, "you need to go to class. gojo sensei is a serious drama queen. he'd probably mark your grade down because you're missing classes for seemingly no reason. and that'll affect your grades.

you groaned and yuuta continued, "just go to class. and if you see choso, avoid him. i am sure he won't come seeking you out."

"fine."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

well, this was going okay, you guess? i mean, gojo sensei did 100% make weird jokes about your absence in front of the entire class but thus far, nothing else was amiss. choso was holed up in his regular seat near the window far to your left and hadn't been looking at you from what you could notice.

fuck. truly the only one getting distracted was you.

so, halfway through the lecture (that you couldn't pay attention to anyways), you decided you would confront choso and ask him why he didn't text you back or something.

so, you waited till class was over. standing outside the gate, you waited for the raven-haired man to come out so that you could confront him. but the moment he actually started coming towards the door, your feet took you by their own accord. you ran through the hallways and into the library.

that's right, maybe you should catch up on the studying you missed? self-study truly is the best study after all? and not like choso will come hunting you down here, in the library. so, you chose to go take a seat in your usual spot, the one farthest and where nobody came to disturb you.

sighing, you took our your laptop and notebook, setting it down on the table. you took a deep breath and decided you could deal with him when you were ready-

"why did you bolt off when you saw me?" choso asked as he dragged the chair next to you and sat down. he dropped something heavy on the desk and you noticed from the corner of your eye that it was the book you had taken over to his under the pretense of studying.

"thanks for the book. i forgot i left it at yours."

liar.

you had left it at his so you could go back and get it. and the day you went back, hopefully, choso would have remembered some of the steam and gotten you into his bed again.

but you never went and he never called.

"no worries. i was surprised how you would be able to do integrals without it." he stretched his limbs, muscles shifting under the thin material of his shirt. he then propped his right elbow on the wooden table. resting his face on his palm, he looked at you, "why were you missing lectures?"

"personal issues." you replied without looking away from your laptop screen. as if typing your assignment furiously will make him disappear into thin air.

"ah, okay. i thought you got sick or something."

if you were braver, you would have said it out loud. but you were a coward, so, you mumbled, "if you were so worried, you could have texted me or something."

you obviously didn't expect for him to hear that.

"we're not friends. it would have been awkward. what would have people thought if they realized i'm texting the second best student at uni?"

you whipped your face to look at his. but all your anger melted away when you took in his features. his tired eyes, the tattoo on his nose. did he cut his hair? it was slightly shorter, you think? whatever, he was still a dick.

-and dick reminds you...

"i-" you looked at your screen again, hands stilling against the keyboard and resting on the plastic keycaps, "even if we aren't friends. why didn't you text me? was- idk. like, was our last time so bad? even if it was, it's not a gentle-manly thing to do! to ghost a fucking girl out of nowhere!"

"i thought it was a one time thing." he replied back easily, still looking at your bunched features, "i thought you had some built up frustration after seeing the result and you had come take your mind off of it."

"so, what are you saying? was it just 'nother quick fuck session with your classmate? you shoved your pen in his direction, a direct attack by invading his private space. your face scrunched up in disgust, "you do this frequently? am i just the newest addition to the roster?"

as your gaze tangled with his, the sheer intensity in his eyes sent a shiver through your system. he quirked an eyebrow up, his lips pressed into a thin line. the pen slipped past your light grasp and under the desk.

"do you know you're ruining my life?" his eyes searched for yours then travelled down to your lips, "you're actually ruining my fucking life."

and he knelt down.

"choso wh-" your eyes widened as his arm reached under the desk, looking for your pens as his gaze remained trained on you.

adjusting his position, he moved till he was under the desk, hidden by the chair and your legs in front of him. once he found the pen, his sleek fingers pulled his hair back. he carefully tied his flowing hair with your pen.

looking up at you, his igniting touches dragged upwards from your knee to the hem of your skirt.

"wh- what are you doing?" you bit down your lip are his fingers travelled inwards, caressing your inner thigh agonizingly slow.

his forearms pulled your body towards him till you were barely seated on the edge. looking around maniacally to spot any other person, you looked back down at the sight in front of you.

his hair was pulled back, arms around your thighs and tongue licking a clean strip from your mid-thigh. slowly moving upwards, his hot breath danced over your drenched panties.

pressing a chaste kiss to your thighs. giving you a small (almost innocent) smile, he whispered, "i think i should return the favour. be a gentleman, hm?"

his thumb swiped over the wet fabric. the slick allowed him to rub over the swollen nub while his other hand found his erect dick. he bit back a groan as he palmed himself through the sweats.

"choso, stop mhmm no-" you whined as he pushed the fabric aside and swiped over your clit. the pad of his thumb moved methodically- going up and down, to the sides and in tight circular motion- while his lips pressed innocent kisses all over your thighs.

"cho~ nghh someone is gonna see us, plea-please stop—"

"shut up then. go back to your assignment. let's pretend i'm not even here, yeah?"

"chosoo—" you whined slowly, looking around again to see no one was around. once you were thorough with your inspection, you found yourself meeting his sinful gaze, rutting your hips in sync with his calloused fingers.

"—look up or people are gonna get suspicious." he stilled for a second, letting his words register in your head. when he refused to move his deft fingers against your pulsing heat, you finally took your eyes off him. training your eyes at the screen instead, you ignored his rough treatment on your clit.

kissing your soft skin, his fingers played with your drenched core. you closed your eyes, feeling his heavy weight against you body. he sucked on your skin and then looked up at you to give you a lewd look. something between a smug smile and a feral, animalistic desire.

"that's right, just do your work okay? i'm gonna handle the rest." he whispered against the blossoming bruise, "trust me when i say that it's taking everything inside me to not fuck you right here, right now."

his lips ghosted over your clitoris as his fingers dipped inside of you. the hot breath set your body on fire as his slim digits played against your inner mechanics. finally, he placed a soft kiss o your twitching, swollen nub and you chose to bite down on your lips instead on moaning his name out.

your hips burned against the wood. your forehead was getting damper and damper with each leisurely lick. and every attempt of writing a word of your assignment was just another incoherent jamble, fueled by his fucked up fantasies.

your pelvis rolled with his finger and the ache built up in your stomach as he went faster and faster against you, still whispering sweet nothings as if honey was his own language.

the ache built and built and built and you closed your eyes as your orgasm finally washed over you like waves. you tucked your head under your arms, resting your forehead against the cool, wooden desk as you silently screamed out.

his fingers slowed down their assault on your twitching body and he pressed one last kiss to your quivering thighs before removing his fingers. fixing your underwear and cleaning off the nectar on his fingers, he climbed up again.

you cocked your head sideways to look at him. he flashed you a grin before taking the pen out and handing it back to you, "here you go. you should be careful with your belongings"

you rolled your eyes, "fuck off."

and he gave you another large smile, relishing in your huffs and jitters.

pulling yourself back up, you truly thought he'd walk away now that you had cum over his fingers. i mean what else was left? he had come and ruined your concentration. he had won at your game. so what else now? why wasn't he leaving?

"uhm" you gave him a skeptical look, "aren't you gonna go now?"

he raised an eyebrow, dragging the chair closer next to you, "want me gone so soon?"

you turned around to face him. you could feel the steam physically rise out of your face out of sheer embarrassment. "i mean i thought we were just... like? you know—"

"—fuck buddies or something?"

"i mean yeah?"

"i don't think we can be fuck buddies. or friends with benefits." when your face fell, he gave you an honest smile, "'cause we aren't exactly friends... and we haven't exactly fucked."

a blush crept up your throat at his ease over such depraved words, "right, yeah."

"but." he dragged his chair outwards and stood up, "we can be. friends, i mean." he looked away from you, pausing. "i mean, i'll text you maybe?"

"maybe?"

"maybe." he tucked in the chair inwards to it's actual position. then his fingers drummed along the wooden chair, "i am still not sure if i wanna be friends with my rival, you know?"

"oh, fuck off."

he started walking away, giving you a last smile over his shoulder, "i'll text you."

you bit back a smile of your own, "i'll wait."

a/n: tempted to make a third part (and finish off the story with a sweet, nice bow) but idk if i should lol. hope yo enjoyeedd!! and please let me know if i should ever write that third part!! tagging: @somejojofanlol @little-art-addiction @seaweed-empire @basilgardener @rkiveinmarvel

[jflemings]

— the better option

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: you have to make a choice

warnings: SMUT, profanity, switch!jessie (for my own agenda)

a/n: this is… certainly something! (this is literally pure filth and i cannot stress that enough)

based off the lyrics “i’m gon’ love her better ‘cause her man ain’t shit”

you were in pure disbelief as you pulled up to jessie’s place.

you had been fighting with your now ex boyfriend for the third time this week. he had slammed his way into your apartment demanding that you choose between him and your best friend because he’s apparently ‘had enough’ of jessie coming between the two of you. his face was almost bright red when you laughed at him and told him, with all the confidence in the world, that your choice would always be jessie, that she was always going to be the better option.

so now here you were. after kicking him out and telling him to go fuck himself, you’d gotten straight into your car and drove to jessie’s.

you trudge up the stairs of the building to her front door before letting yourself in. she’s standing in her kitchen when you loudly announce yourself, the anger in your voice making her jump slightly.

“fucking prick” you seethe “asking me to choose between the two of you as if i’m not going to choose you everytime!”

jessie sips her glass of water and watches you pace in her kitchen amused. she hadn’t ever really liked him but kept her distain quiet because you had seemed to really like him, but deep down she knew that the two of you weren’t going to last.

the first problem was that he couldn’t make you cum.

the second was that he’s not her.

“and then, and then!” you flail about “he told me— to my face, jess— that he thinks i’m in love with you and that’s the reason i won’t suck his dick more than twice a week!”

the midfielder almost chokes on her drink at your words. you’d come to her after every fight ranting and raving about how much of an ass he was and how badly you needed to break it off, but never had you told her that.

“so?” she questions.

you stop and turn to her with your arms cross “so what?”

“so was he right?” jessie doesn’t know where this sudden burst of confidence has come from, nor has she thought about what is going to happen if you are in fact in love with her, but she doesn’t care. the unspoken tension has been building between the two of you for far too long and she needs a straight answer for her own sake.

the truth was that she’s been in love with you for a while now. it was a conclusion she came to slowly, but once she had, it was only a matter of time before she let her feelings spill out all over you.

she just needed to know.

you stare at her blankly and drop your arms by your side. your brows furrow “well– um” there’s a thick feeling of something in the air as jessie awaits your answer. her fingers twitch against her glass as she watches you.

“yeah, i mean, he was” you admit quietly.

the two of you stare at eachother for a moment before jessie slams her glass down on the counter top and walks straight up to you, taking your face in her hands and kissing you hard. you’re quick to react with hands around her neck and in her hair, walking the both of you backwards until you hit the counter.

your tongue runs along her lower lip as a way to ask for permission, which jessie readily grants, and you slide your tongue into her mouth. she groans as you pull at the roots of her hair and pulls off your mouth.

“i hated him” she admits into your lips “such a fucking asshole” jess slots her knee in between your legs and pushes up into your core. you grown into her mouth and let yourself settle on her knee, bracing yourself on the edge of the counter before jessie breaks away from you and lifts you up abruptly.

you yelp and settle on the cold laminate, wrapping your arms around jessie’s neck once again and threading your fingers through her curls. she groans at the sensation and immediately grips the sides of your thighs, pushing herself further into your lips.

she tugs on the hem of your shirt and you hastily take it off before tugging on hers, beginning to lift it up her torso and throw it behind you. your hands perch on her tones shoulders as you kiss her sloppily across her face before mouthing at her jaw and neck.

“are you sure” she asks breathlessly “because we can stop—”

“no” you say into her warm skin “unless you want to”

“no fucking way”

“bedroom?” you question her, to which she wordlessly picks you up and guides your legs around her waist.

she leads the both of you to her bedroom blindly, kicking open the door and walking to the end of her bed. she places you down and takes your chin between her forefinger and thumb, kissing you hard.

your own fingers hook in the waistband of your shorts before she quickly lets you stand and takes them off herself. the sight of your panties makes her cock her head and smirk.

“did you come here with a mission?” she teases

“can’t a girl just wear a matching set for the sake of it?”

jessie rolls her eyes and pushes you back down onto the bed before hastily planting her lips firmly on yours. one hand slides from your hips to your waist whilst the other snakes around the middle of your back. she pushes her hand past the underwire of your bra and cups your breast, kneading the flesh as her kisses get sloppier.

you toy with the waistband of her shorts impatiently, leaving her to break away from you momentarily so she can pull her shorts and underwear down her legs in one swift motion, tossing the clothing across the room. she’s quick to take off your own soaked panties and unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts of the black lace that covered them.

her lips wrap around one of your nipples whilst she rolls the other in between her thumb and forefinger. you feel her tongue circle your areolae teasingly a few times before nipping the perked bud shortly. you rub your thighs together in an attempt to gain some friction and groan lowly as the brunette releases your nipple. she smirks up at you and moves to the other one, paying it the same attention and repeating her actions.

“jessie” you say breathlessly to which she hums against you.

she lets go of your nipple with a pop and tilts her head “yes, pretty girl?”

you whine and push her shoulders “please”

“please?” she says mockingly “please what baby?”

you rub your thighs together frustratedly “please just fuck me already”

she smiles and allows you to push her down. her hands crawl down your stomach and over your legs as she begins to sit up, pulling your knees apart slowly.

“so wet already” she tuts as she runs a finger through your folds “all for me?”

“all for you”

the canadian hums again and crawls to the end of the bed before standing at the foot of it. she grabs your ankles and pulls you towards her causing you to yelp in surprise.

jessie gets on her knees and hooks your legs over her shoulders, wasting no time as she dives in. she opens her mouth over both your clit and entrance and gathers spit on her tongue before running the muscle over you sloppily. lewd, wet sounds fill the room as she laps you up.

your heels dig into her back and you arch off the mattress “jessie” you moan loudly at the feeling of her exploring the most intimate part of you. pulling away, she uses her fingers to spread your folds before smoothly sliding two fingers in at once

“oh my fucking god” you arch your back at the full feeling and jessie places a forearm on your abdomen to hold you to the bed. she curls her fingers presses into your sweet spot immediately before pulling out slightly and repeating her actions. she smirks at the way you’re already squirming under her. the tension that had been brewing was finally being released, and she was having the time of her fucking life.

her fingers piston out of you with ease and she angles her thumb awkwardly to merely put pressure on your puffy clit. her actions are rewarded with a high pitched moan and breathy half laugh as you white-knuckle the sheets under you.

you were singing her name to the heavens like it was a prayer, each moan, groan and breathless profanity getting jessie wetter than before.

“taking me so well” she praises whilst watching your face “can’t ever believe he’d let you go”

as your legs begin to shake and you clench around her fingers, jess watches in awe as you cum all over her fingers with a loud, breathless moan. “atta girl, there you go” she utters “you look so pretty coming all over my fingers. such a pretty girl”

your hips buck as you ride it out, your fists letting go of the sheets in favour for jessie’s free hand. you pull her up towards your lips, humming in contentment when her fingers dig into your hips as you kiss her hard. she swipes her tongue across your bottom lip and slots it into your mouth when you allow it, kissing you like she was a woman starved.

finding the strength, you get up into a sitting position and push jessie onto her back so you can straddle her waist. her hands slide up your waist and across your back as you kiss all over her jaw before nipping her earlobe. slowly, you lick behind her ear before latching you lips to the sensitive skin and sucking.

you nudge jessie’s jaw with your nose and suck down the column of her throat, nipping the quickly bruising marks. her hands hook your thighs just under your ass and begins to pull you up her body “want you on my face” she breathily says.

“what” you ask almost in disbelief.

“i want you to sit on my face” she repeats, still pulling you up her body. you shakily sit on your knees and place your hands on the headboard to give jessie enough room to slide under you. she does so eagerly, digging her fingers into your thighs and smiling cockily as you hover over her.

when you don’t put your weight on her immediately she does it for you, pulling your core onto her mouth and immediately getting to work. the canadian flattens her tongue against you and presses it to your hole before dragging it to your sensitive clit, closing her eyes in pleasure. she repeats the motion before dipping the tip of her tongue inside you teasingly.

your jaw goes slack as you look down at her and furrow your brows before you wriggle on her face to encourage her to do more. jessie grips your thighs and moans into your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you. she doesn’t give you much more time to react before she pulls the hood of your clit back and begins to mercilessly suckle on the bundle of nerves.

your hips buck and you throw your head back in pure ecstasy. one of your hands fly to jessie’s hair and you tug at the roots, earning another low groan from the footballer. “fuck jess just like that! holy fuck”

the praise only makes jessie speed up her movements and she flicks her tongue over your clit with more pressure. her hands leave your thighs and find a new home on your boobs, immediately kneading them and running her thumbs over your perked nipples. your hands grab the back of her own just as coils of pleasure begin to tighten within you. your thighs flex against jessie’s head, trapping her in and allowing you to rock back and forth against her mouth quickly as you chase your high. your head hangs low on your neck, hair falling in your face as you look down at her.

she looks like she’s in heaven in between your legs. her hair is sprawled put over her pillows and her pupils are blown out wide, the normal warm brown that you’ve grown so accustomed to disappearing. the way she’s looking at you, paired with the fact that you can feel your juices all over her face, has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“yes jessie, yes jessie, fuck” you babble in between moans, your fingers tightening around her hands “i’m gonna– shit, i’m gonna cum” you breathe out, screwing your eyes shut as white hot pleasure completely overcomes your body for the second time.

the canadian flattens her tongue as you ride her face and she’s gone from pinching and rolling your nipples to just kneading the plush flesh in between her palms. you slide off her mouth and catch your breath, continuing to keep her hands on your chest as you come down. your legs are like jelly when you practically fall off her face and onto your back next to her, your chest heaving as you process the two absolutely mind blowing orgasms jessie has just given you.

she props herself up on her elbow and swipes her thumb under her bottom lip and over her chin before putting it in her mouth, licking off any of your release that she didn’t get in her mouth. she leans over you with a cocky smirk “that was hot” she says before bringing your mouths together in a searing kiss, sliding one of her hands under your neck to bring you closer to her. you moan at the taste and smell of yourself on her and push her shoulders back so she’s laying on her back.

you sloppily kiss her, licking into her mouth before kissing down her neck and the valley of her breasts “treat me so good jess” you mumble against her hot skin “no one’s ever made me cum that hard”

she moans at the praise and threads her fingers through your roots softly as you kiss your way down her body. you settle at the end of the bed and slowly put her legs over your shoulders, kissing the inside of her thighs “especially him” you purr, dipping the tip of your middle finger inside her before circling her clit.

“fuck” jessie chokes out, gripping the roots of your hair tighter.

you continue to prod at her entrance teasingly whilst your non-dominant hand crawls it’s way back up her stomach. flattening your palm just above her belly button, you press your tongue to her clit firmly and watch her head slowly roll back on her neck.

one thing that you had learnt about jessie from being friends with her was that she would kill to be praised. she never asked for it, obviously, but everytime someone would tell her how well she was doing a determined fire lit in her eyes. you now know that jessie strived to be the best on the pitch and in the bedroom.

while your tongue works her swollen clit painfully slow your middle and ring finger spread her folds. “such a good girl getting me off like that jess” you praise, pressing your fingers against her “good girls get rewards y’know”

jessie does the best to hold eye contact with you as you slowly sink into her, pulling a delicious groan from her lips “you do know that good girls get rewards, don’t you?”

“mhm” she nods, moving one hand from your hair to cup your cheek, running her thumb over your cheekbone affectionately.

you gather some of her wetness on the tips of your fingers and circle her entrance once again before pushing your middle finger in, curling it as you go. you keep your eyes locked on jessie as she throws her head back and begins to pant. desperate for another reaction like that, you curl and uncurl your finger whilst thrusting in and out of her at a comfortable pace.

jessie’s chest rises and falls and her fingers tighten in your hair “more” she breathes out “please”

“more?” you hum and jessie nods. “i think you deserve that”

you punctuate your words with a second finger. you build your pace until she’s withering under you, her legs shaking and her is abdomen tensing. “c-close” loudly moans “don’t stop i’m so close”

“you gonna cum for me jessie?” you muse, laying your head on her thigh right next to her pussy. your breath fans over her clit that’s desperate for attention and when she gives you another quick nod, you cave.

you’re quick to make work of her clit, sucking and licking to your heart’s content. your eyes are trained on jessie’s face, watching her screw her eyes shut and drop her jaw as she mumbles profanities to no one in particular. she pulsates around your fingers and you can tell that she’s right of the edge just waiting to plummet.

you decide to give her a little push.

you pull off her clit “been so good for me jess. so, so good for me. c’mon baby”

the praise does exactly what you expect. her eyes roll to the back of her head and her hips twitch wildly as you slow your pace to help her ride it out. her loud moans are music to your ears as she comes undone all over you, her juices running down your fingers and beginning to pool in the palm of your hand.

you keep yourself still inside her for a moment as she pants heavily. she lifts her head just as you pull out of her slowly and bring your soaked fingers to your mouth to like them clean of her.

“oh fuck” she curses, throwing her head back against the soft pillow tiredly.

you can’t help but laugh and crawl back up the length of her body, smiling sweetly at her before peppering kisses all over her face. her freckled cheeks are still flushed and she’s got a layer of sweat coating her but you don’t think you’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.

“so how you feeling?” she asks you as if her legs aren’t still shaking minutely from the earth shattering orgasm you just gave her.

“like i’ve made the right choice”

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Megumi falling in love for the first time?

Attempts at Friendship are Unappreciated

Synopsis: Megumi doesn’t have a need for friends, let alone a lover. But upon getting his first crush, he learns some new things about himself, like maybe he cares more than he thinks.

pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x GN!Reader

content warning: SFW, potential friends to lovers, Megumi sorting out his feelings sort of stuff because cynical, overthinker Megumi is my favorite Megumi.

If you were to ask Megumi, he didn’t have any need for friends. And he has been asked before by people like Gojo and his sister. The answer was always the same. He prefers being alone. People were too complicated. Too selfish. Too good. Too everything, really. And he was, well, himself.

Even after arriving at Jujutsu High, it’s still unnerving to him to have someone talk to him so earnestly, like his eyes weren’t permanently fixed with irritation, like he wasn’t constantly avoiding others, like he didn’t wear indifference like a new fur coat in the height of winter.

Itadori was an unexpected exception. An outburst of emotion intravenously linked him to the other boy, the golden strings of their destinies twined and knotted together on Fate’s spinning wheel.

You, on the other hand, have no reason to befriend him. He’s never had anything to offer others in return for their company, which never bothered him until he met you.

Megumi questioned what it was about you that allows you to get so close. So, he lets you talk, chattering his ear off in the covered walkway hosting the vending machines.

He studies you inch by inch, searching for something in the bright expression on your face and the crinkle of your eyes when you smile; he still doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking for. Your motive – the reason for wanting to talk to someone like him?

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask.

“I don’t have one.”

It may sound like a rude dismissal of your question but it's the truth, the painfully boring truth. He’s never put much thought into trivial things like that. The fact settles heavily in his stomach and rings hollow in his chest like when his sister said he’d never learn to make friends if he didn’t put himself out there.

Back then, Megumi pretended not to have heard her. In truth, it bothered him when she said it, only for the feeling to quickly fade away before he even left school that day. That strange void he felt back then always seems to resurface at the worst of times.

“Would you say that you like black or silver better? How about blue?”

Megumi looks down and plays with the tab on his orange juice can, avoiding the thing about you that makes him want to hear you talk. Megumi has no need for friends. Attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.

“They’re all fine,” he grumbles out. It’s the maximum he allows.

Megumi doesn’t have a type. It’s another one of those trivial things he’s never bothered to think about until his head was literally cracked through the pavement.

He knows all about types though, and he knows as much as he cares about romance from the bad to the good. Sweaty palms, blushing faces, pounding hearts were all reoccuring themes in his books.

Megumi never thought he’d have romantic feelings for anyone, no matter how fleeting. He reckons he isn’t capable of it. He just isn’t wired that way.

It’s comforting in a sense. It means he didn’t have to worry about attachments. Sure, he loves his sister, and Gojo, well, he cares for his benefactor, but he’s never considered the older man someone he felt okay investing all his feelings into. People his own age were complicated enough; adults were worse, his father was worse; the little he remembers anyway.

When he thinks about the way he met Gojo who too conveniently saved him from the Zen’in clan in exchange for becoming his student, it’s hard for him to let his trust flow purely even after all this time; even when Gojo took it upon himself to do Megumi favors like putting Itadori's room right next door (another thing Megumi didn't appreciate).

Megumi blames his long-seated resentment for the reason his heart starts to work overtime the day you present friendship bracelets to everyone. They’re fancy; many steps above the cheap kind that you’d find at some discount convenience store with plastic alphabets and random beads and symbols. He assumes a couple of the pieces might be real.

Kugisaki’s is green, shining on her wrist like emeralds. Megumi thinks it suits someone like Kugisaki, who would undoubtedly love to be covered in jewels. Itadori has a similar one, rotating with a pattern of red and opaque white pieces.

Standing in that hall, drowning out the conversation between Kugisaki and Itadori about who has the prettier bracelet, Megumi realizes he’s next.

It starts when you step in front of him; there’s a cautious tone to your voice when you say his name because you already know: attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.

It's with a roll of anxiousness, the one that always comes with the mystery of whether his exchange with someone will be positive or negative and the skeptic thought in his head that reminds him most people always want something in return, that makes him throw up a wall.

“These probably aren’t your thing but I made one for you too,” you preface. “I hope you like it. I wasn’t really sure what to put on it so I made some guesses.”

You’re right. Friendship bracelets aren’t his thing; needing a token like a bracelet to prove your relationship to someone is asinine. It’s against what is supposed to make a friendship special. Strong friendships should need no words, right?

Most importantly, he doesn’t need it, and there’s no reason for you to give him one.

“You keep it,” he starts. However, it’s already too late as you grab his arm and slide the trinket over his hand.

“I don’t—” he starts again; there’s a bit of surprise in the way you look at him, the way everyone stops and looks at him actually. This quickly becomes one of those times where it’d be easier to go with the flow than to fight the current. “Fine.” He clears his throat. “Only because you already made it,” he explains more fully, stifling the embarrassment that wants to bubble from his chest with so much attention.

Like before, he finds himself too focused on watching you, the way your eyes soften from surprise and rejection to shining stars. He thinks this must be how the protagonists in those books feel when heat creeps up their neck. Those books also left him sorely unprepared that it would go past neck to his face and ears.

He breaks away from the situation, finding a way to retreat into the background to shield himself from the gooey feeling permeating the air. He drops his gaze to his arm, focusing on the bracelet with his name accompanied by a repetition of blue and silver, connecting the two—four—of you together.

Megumi fixes his sleeve over the bracelet, but he can’t hide how painfully aware he is of the charms rolling against his skin.

It was both a pleasant feeling and completely alien.

It broke.

Megumi was a bit reckless against a low-level curse, and it broke. He didn’t even realize it until after the battle was over and one of the silver charms were rolling under his foot.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It was bound to happen eventually considering this line of work. Yet, he still picked up the few pieces he could separate from the gravel, and the entire ride home his wrist feels unreasonably bare.

Thinking about how he messed up makes him annoyed at himself, especially when he wonders what you’d think if you noticed he wasn’t wearing it. You’d probably think he tossed it somewhere; that he didn’t like it. He liked it. The same way he likes to listen to you talk on car rides home after missions or when you ask him to hang out with you and the others or when you read all the books he recommends with the protagonists that are quickly becoming too relatable with every skipped heartbeat and tongue-tied word. He’s frustrated to acknowledge why that’s the case.

It’s only been three months since the start of the school year, he thinks. It took only three months for his thoughts to start drifting to his classmates, with you almost always center stage in them.

When he arrives back at the school, he finds your room and knocks on your door. He shows you what little remains of the gift you gave him, as if he needs to immediately absolve himself of any wrongdoing.

“Do you want me to make you another one?” you ask cautiously.

Megumi can guess why you’re hesitant considering he only accepted your gift because of peer pressure. He still believes gifts like this are silly and unnecessary.

But…

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

He wants it.

So, he goes into your room where he watches you begin the process of making him another bracelet. You ask him which accessories he would prefer, and like always he doesn’t have much preference other than what you think is best. As long as it isn’t too silly, of course.

He gives his undivided attention to how your fingertips pour over your work kit and the many square boxes filled with different miniature shapes before you carefully pick out one with a little dog face.

“I think this one is good,” you whisper to yourself before continuing your search for another complementing bead.

You smile as you work. It’s nice. Cute even as you bite down on your lip in concentration; and right now, he isn’t quite sure what to do with that information other than note the way it makes his palms feel clammy especially when he notices your eyes lift back up to his.

Megumi notices a lot about you actually. He notices how you always go out your way to get his, well, everyone’s opinion on everything. He notices that whenever you share your snacks with everyone that you always save ginger for him. He notices how your gaze lingers on him when you ask if everyone is in one piece after difficult missions. He also notices how your finger stops over a silver square, one with a little black heart carved in each side. He wonders, perhaps too hopefully, if the charm is just one you think he’d like or if it means more than that.

“Why do you always keep trying to talk to me?” he asks, fighting the urge to beg you to stop getting stuck in his mind so much.

Your head snaps up from what you’re doing.

“What do you mean? We’re teammates,” you answer simply.

“Aren’t missions enough? We don’t need to interact aside from that.”

You pinch your eyebrows at him, and there’s a frown on your face. “Sure we do.”

“There’s no reason.”

It’s not like he ever saved your life, not like Itadori. It’s not like he has a somewhat familial relationship with you, like Gojo. You’re not his sibling or his parent; he’s not the friendlist either so there’s no reason to try to get closer any more than necessary, and there’s no reason for him to be feeling so nervous right now.

“How about because I like talking to you? I think you’re pretty funny, and you’re a kind person.” You shake your head, laughing. “I don’t know. I just like being friends with you.”

Megumi doesn’t know what he was expecting. Some deep explanation why you keep trying to get close to him? Some selfish excuse from you that he could use to warrant pushing you away. A reason to justify why he likes you so much? A reason to hope you like him just as much?

Maybe.

There doesn’t need to be some special reason for you wanting to be his friend, which means he doesn’t really need a reason either.

“I see.”

“Finished,” you say, holding out his newly made bracelet to him. “I poured some of my cursed energy into it, so it won’t break so easily next time.”

Megumi feels calm once again when he feels the weight and roll of the beads on his skin again; the aura of your curse energy humming through it makes the connection back to you much more noticeable.

“What about me?” you ask, drawing his attention. “Do you like being friends with me?”

Megumi can’t answer that, not because he doesn’t have an answer, but because he feels like his tongue weighs more than lead as you lean closer into him.

His eyes find your lips, soft and parted. This is the first time he’s gotten the urge to kiss someone. It makes his stomach whirlwind, and he quickly finds a way to answer you without having to look at you as he picks at one of the charms.

“Can I make you one?”

The next morning, Megumi decides to go out with you and the others for breakfast, which in hindsight was a mistake as Itadori points out the new accesory you’re wearing on your wrist.

“Hey, you got one too now.”

You smile, holding it up proudly. “Megumi made it for me!”

“Megumi?!” Itadori blurts out.

“Made it for you?” Nobara asks with raised eyebrows and a hand on her hip.

“He did a really good job.”

It’s like the time before when you first gave them their gifts, and everyone is looking at him again. “I didn’t do anything special; a monkey could do it,” he mumbles out.

Itadori is the first to crack a laugh followed by Kugisaki. Then, the two of them start muttering and teasing him in unison.

“He’s so modest,” Itadori points out.

“Loverboy,” Kugisaki whispers.

“Can we call you Megumi too?” Itadori asks.

Megumi doesn’t have the patience to consider whether the other boy is being genuine or not as he grits his teeth and growls out a quick “shut up” before konking Itadori on the head to prove his point. It’s enough to make them leave him alone for now as Itadori accidentally trips into Kugisaki from the force.

“That was completely unnecessary, Fushiguro,” Kugisaki grumbles as she pushes Itadori off and stands back to her feet.

Megumi sighs.

This is why he doesn’t want friends.

“Did you just sigh at me!”

“If that’s what you heard,” he tells her.

“You better sleep with both eyes open!”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

Yet if it’s those two then he guesses having friends isn’t completely unbareable.

Suddenly, Megumi loses focus at the timbre of your laugh.

“You guys are starting early today.”

You’re still laughing at them, harder now actually, and it’s precious. He throws his gaze to the wall as if he’s ignoring Kugisaki and not trying to hide the heat blooming on his cheeks when you glance at him, making him aware that he’s the reason for your laughter.

Megumi shoves his hands in his pockets and rolls his thumb over the bracelet and the heart you left behind there.

Friendship is something he’s coming around to. Having a crush for the first time, well, he still needs work on figuring that out. 

[ur-local-anti-hero]

Back to december

Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: Remus feels like he will regret that night the rest of his life, the marauders convince him to do something about it.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Second chance romance

CW: Remus being self-destructive and questioning his worth.

Word count: 1.8K

This is part of my Speak now (Marauders' Version) collection.

“So this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you, Saying I'm sorry for that night. And I'd go back to December all the time

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you. Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine”

Remus sighed, his eyes were fixed into someone across the great hall. He was sitting with the marauders at their usual place, his fork was playing with the food in front of him, he hadn’t been able to eat ever since that night. 

“Come on mate, tell us what’s wrong. You’ve been sighing the whole dinner.” Sirius’ voice made him turn to him, seeing his three friends looking at him with worry written in their faces. 

“Nothing is wrong, I’ve already told you” Remus replied with the same excuse he had been using for days.

“Yeah and that’s why you’ve been looking at Y/N like a kicked puppy for the last week” James retored. “Tell me again, why did you two break up?” 

“How many times are you going to ask me that?” Remus sighed, tired of repeating the same conversation over and over with his friends. 

“Until you tell us the truth” Peter urged. 

“I’ve been telling you the truth, we wanted different things, the relationship wasn’t working” 

“Remus” Sirius’ voice was stern, and the lack of a nickname while referring to his best friend was jarring. “You two were the epitome of love, I had never seen you smile as much as you did with her, like, never.” 

“It’s hard to believe you, not even a day before you broke it off you were looking at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Your words, not mine.” James insisted. 

And he was right, Remus had never been as happy as he had been while dating you. The choice of breaking things off had been all his. He loved you so much it was terrifying, at some point all he could think about was how long he had left before you realised what he really was and you left him for someone better. You deserved someone better. 

“I really hope this has nothing to do with your monthly problem.” Peter’s voice was low, only for the four of them to hear. 

Remus couldn’t help it, he stiffened. Peter had nailed it and he wasn’t ready to let his friends know about how deep his insecurities really run. But, they noticed his frame changing from exhausted to on guard, Remus didn’t even say anything before the rest of the marauders understood what had happened. 

“Is that true Remus, did you break up with her because of that? I thought she already knew?” Sirius asked quietly, his previous anger now replaced with symphaty.  

“She knows now, and it doesn’t matter, just drop it. I’m done with the interrogation” Remus snapped at them before getting up and leaving the great hall, leaving his friends with dumbfounded expressions behind. 

───✥───

Lily meant well and you knew it, but if she kept asking you if you were okay you might explode. 

“How are you, Y/N?” Lily asked you, for the fourth time in the last hour. 

Ever since Remus had broken up with you Lily had been sitting next to you through all the meals, leaving her boyfriend's side, and afterwards she would walk you to your dorm. You appreciated her company and her friendship, but she was also a constant reminder that things were not as they were before, and therefore she was a constant reminder of your heartbreak. 

“I’ll be fine” was the answer you settled for every time she asked.

“I talked to James.” Lily hesitated before speaking “Are you really okay? He told me why you and Remus broke up…” 

Your eyes widened at that, if James had really told Lily about your break up that meant Lily knew about Remus being a werewolf, and as far as you were concerned he had never pushed her out of his life as he had done when you had been the one to bring it up. 

“You knew about…that?” you decided to keep it as vague as possible in case James had made something up to stop Lily from asking more details. 

She nodded “Ever since fourth year” 

“Did he tell you?” You needed to know, your hands were now shaking and your heart was racing. 

“No, I figured it out. Just like you did '' Lily's words calmed you down a little, if he had been able to confide in Lily but had never felt safe enough to tell you it would’ve made you feel awful. 

“The moment I brought it up he cut me off, we didn’t even have the chance to discuss it. He just broke up with me.” It was the first time you were being honest about it, and it just made everything hurt like if Remus was breaking up with you all over again. 

Lily stepped closer to you before wrapping you in a tight hug, her arms stroking your back in an attemp to comfort you. 

“I think you should talk to him, try to make things right again.” she whispered. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, he probably doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.” 

“Somehow I doubt that.” 

Maybe Lily was right, but you would never be brave enough to even try to prove her right.

───✥───

After storming out of the great hall Remus had locked himself in his dorm, he didn’t want any of the marauders to give him a speech about how he couldn’t let his lycanthopy affect his relationships. Because it had already affected the most important one he had. 

But of course his friends wouldn’t grant his wishes. 

“Remus, let me in, I want to talk with you. Please” Sirius was nothing but persistent. “Come on Moony, you know I’m not leaving.” 

Remus sighed, he’d been doing that a tad lately, but decided to let Sirius in. He wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, and he preferred to talk with him alone and not wait for James and Peter to join Sirius. 

When he opened the door Sirius didn’t waste a second and barged in, going directly to sit on Remus’ bed. 

“Oh, yes of course, make yourself at home on my bed.” Remus scoffed at him. 

“Come sit, Moony” 

Remus didn’t have the strenght to fight him, so he walked towards his bed and sat next to Sirius.

“What happened when she found out?” He wasn’t going to waste any more time. 

“She confronted me about it, asked me why I hadn’t told her.” Remus said sadly 

“Was she judgemental, was she scared or disgusted?” Sirius inquired, he knew you well, and you weren’t anything but lovely and understanding, being disgusted by Remus’ lycanthropy was not something he pegged you to be. 

“I didn’t give her the chance to really express what she thought of it” Sirius gave him a look of encouragement for him to continue. “I broke up with her before she could say something.” 

“Why?” 

“I think that if she had rejected me at that moment I would have never recovered from it, I was terrified.” He said, his words showing a rare vulnerability. 

“Do you regret it? Not giving her a chance. Do you really think she would’ve hated you?” 

“I regretted it the moment she walked out of the door, but I couldn’t risk it” 

“I think you should give her the chance, talk with her.” Sirius patted his shoulder

“If she didn’t hate me then, she defintely does now. She deserves better.” 

“I believe it’s not your call to choose what she does or does not deserve, give her the chance.” 

Maybe Sirius was right. 

───✥───

The Gryffindor common room was not very crowded after curfew, usually only a few seventh year students were spotted working on their class work after being kicked out of the library. 

But these days you would only find comfort on the couch in front of the fireplace, even if it was not a substitute for Remus’ warmth during the cold nights of december, it was the best you found. 

The quiet crack of the wood being burned and the weight of your blankets lulled you to sleep, your eyes were closed and your breathing slow, you were finally falling asleep when the weight of another body made the couch shift. 

“Y/N '' your name was called very quietly, barely above a whisper, but you could recognise the voice anywhere. 

“Remus” your eyes opened and you sat up, straightening yourself

Remus was sitting right next to you, far enough for his thighs to not touch you, but close enough for you to be able to read his expression in the dark room .

“Can we please talk?” He was fidgeting with his hands, clearly nervous of how this conversation was going to go. 

You hugged yourself before nodding. Then a beat of silence 

“I’m sorry.” you both said at the same time. Another silence took over the room before you both chuckled awkwardly. 

“I’m really sorry Y/N, I shouldn’t have cut you off like that. I was scared and I was impulsive, I know I can’t excuse my behaviour, and you don’t have to forgive me but I needed you to know.” He took a deep breath before continuing 

“I have never felt what I feel for you before, and only the thought of you leaving because of my lycanthropy terrified me. And the moment you confronted me about it I thought it was better if I was the one leaving. But I regretted it the moment I saw the tears in your eyes, and when you walked out of the door all I wanted was to take my words back. And I regret it every time I see you across the great hall instead of next to me. Words can’t begin to show how sorry I am.” 

Remus was now crying, he wasn’t the only one, your eyes had started to water the moment he started talking. You took his hand on yours before speaking. 

“It’s okay Rem, I forgive you. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I would hate you for being you” you said sincerely. 

There was a brief moment of silence in which you looked each other in the eyes, they were filled with tears, but also love. You swore no one had ever looked at you like that before.

"Can we try again, please?" He asked 

You didn't even answer, throwing yourself at his arms, which embraced you with the familiar warmth you desperately craved. 

"I've missed you so much, please never leave again" you sobbed into his chest 

"I won't, I promise" he said, placing a kiss on your temple. 

Maybe Remus should listen to Sirius' advice more often if they were going to help him get the love of his life back. 

Author's note: I'm so proud of this one I think it's super duper cute. I'm also dying with uni work at the moment, wish me luck, love u all <33 Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Series' taglist: @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsimp @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 

[vivendraws]

making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.

disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh

to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.

the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.

i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.

and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.

and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.

gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.

but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.

on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.

i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.

i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?

and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?

the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:

????????

are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.

and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.

i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.

that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.

before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘

[ccswife]

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

Oh no.

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pairing๛: kate martin x iowau!reader

synopsis๛: kate catches you watching your saved edits of her.

not proofread so ignore spelling mistakes pls lol

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being a trainee under the strength and conditioning coaches for the Iowa womens basketball meant that you were constantly around the team. you found it hard to get used to all the personalities, but by your sixth year it became quite easy.

one person you particularly leaned towards when assisting was Kate Martin - a fellow sixth year and a phenomenal basketball player (as far as you knew). throughout the 3 years you had really known Kate, the two of you grew very close, exchanging 'i love you's and often sleeping at eachothers places. a lot of the girls wondered why you guys didnt just move in together.

one cool evening in iowa city, after a considerably hard practice and lift, kate decided to come home with you after her shower. you leaned against the wall outside the locker room playing on your phone, patiently waiting for the blonde to shuffle out with her bags.

'phwwtt!'

a loud whistle pulled your eyes up and towards the door. there came kate, her hair wet and barely brushed and her bags stuffed to the brim.

"i tried to shower as fast as i could and pack all my stuff up but it got a little messy so...." she spoke out in one breath.

"kate... you know i dont mind waiting," you laughed. kate usually does this, and it ALWAYS leads to her forgetting something important. whether it be her shoes (like, her actual shoes not her bball shoes), her whole bag of skincare, or her bra, etc.

kate shrugged with a goofy look on her face and shouted 'onwards!' before shuffle-running to get out to the parking lot.

the car ride over to your apartment was as usual; listening to music, chatting about school and practice, asking about the other girls lives. you often asked her about everyone else when you guys had sleepovers. its not that you don't know and love them, but you don't talk to them nearly as much as you do kate. everyone knew that. after settling in and grabbing snack and a spot on the couch, you pulled up tiktok on your phone and decided to go through your 'wbb😭😍' folder. you can't even lie and say you don't find kate and some of her teammates attractive. hell, one of the reasons you first talked to her was because of her beautiful face. but after you guys got so close, you deemed it inappropriate to tell her how you really felt. how she made your heart flutter when she called you 'n/n' and when she stared at you for a little longer than usual. you found out that people made edits of her after liking one womens basketball edit... one is all it took. at first it shocked you and you tried not to like any of them.. but you couldnt resist it. she looked so. damn. good. IN ALL OF THEM!!! sooner than later a folder was made and filled to the brim. a dabble of caitlin, paige and an occasional molly in there as well.

so, there you sat: munching on goldfish, one leg up on the couch and one leg dangling off, all while scrolling through various edits of your best friend.

oh yea, full volume too:D

kate walks into the living room and sees you on your phone. usually she tries not to snoop but something caught her eye. was that.. her?!?! on your phone screen?????? she watched you scroll and watched as her face popped up a dozen more times. caitlin as well. a million thoughts went through her head. why were you watching edits of her? did you like her like she liked you? you find her attractive?? why is caitlin in there.

she continued to stand there, mouth ajar, trying to find the right words to snap you out of your lull.

' y/n' she spoke up

your phone immediately shut off and you sat straight up, turning to look at kate with a beat red face. your hands start to move around frantically as you try to explain.

' i- im- i was just looking at some beacuse,-- well like i thought it was cool and-' words start flying out of your mouth.

'y/n,' kate spoke again. ' its ok. im just kinda caught off gaurd' rubbing her neck she looks around before making eye contact with you and smirking a little. your face twisted when she smirked. she thought this was funny??!

"what're you smirking at freak??" as you said that your heart dropped. her smirk only widened. "dont you dare kate." a demanding tone, one that you only use before she tickled attacks you or is about to yell something completely out of pocket to the girls.

kate inches towards you, causing you to put your phone behind your back. before you can even process her attack, she snatches your phone and unlocks it, quickly going into tiktok. at this point all you can do is sit and stare as she goes through your folder of wbb edits. occasionally she looks down at you, sometimes with a sweet look and others confused or.. offended? you couldnt tell.

after finishing, she hands your phone back to you and sits next to you on the couch.

"well," she starts. "who knew there was so many edits of me and caitlin!" her tone was light hearted but with a tinge of hurt and sarcasm. she turns to look at you.

"oh wait, you knew!" she yips. kate slaps your knee and laughs, and you couldn't help but join. she cracked jokes for at least another minute.

the vibe in the room after that changed in the slightest bit, the both of you holding your tounges, not wanting to be the first to acutally talk about what had just happened. when the clock hit 11:00pm, you both sauntered to the bedroom to hit the hay. hopping into your respective sides, and making sure you both had everything you needed. instead of a "i love you, goodnight!", kate just rubbed your cheek and smiled, then turned the other way.

before you fell asleep, you saw the light of her phone, and an edit of herself on the screen.

Oh no.

no no no no no. your heart started to race as you thought of everything that could happen. what if she doesnt wanna be my friend anymore? what if she tells the girls and they hate me? does she know i like her?

you curled up and tried to sleep away the thoughts. halfway asleep and arm snaked around you and stroked your arm, prompting you to fall soundly asleep.

"ill figure out what to say to you soon enough, love"

kate spoke under her breath only when she was sure you'd fallen asleep. soon she was out too.

Oh no... what will they do?

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A/N q(❂‿❂)p: i hope this isn't complete trash! i tried my best:))))) i had this little idea i forgot about in my notes lolll. i hope u guys enjoy and lmk if you potentially want another part ?!!?!! anyways toodles😜

[ingravinoveritas]

have you seen the super blurry video of the 4 of them at the Oliver awards?? I what really gets me is Michael stepping into the person behind him.

https://www.instagram.com/stories/davidtennant_daily/3347586970874865569?utm_source=ig_story_item_share&igsh=MWhjbHM4azBiMmt0Zg==

Yes, I have indeed seen the blurry video that's been going around this afternoon. I know some folks were having difficulty seeing it, so I will post it here:

I think probably the first thing I thought was that this video is too short to really draw any full-on conclusions (to quote Buffalo Springfield, "There's something happening here. What it is ain't exactly clear..."), and to wonder where the heck it came from. (It was posted as a story on a fan page on Instagram, but there's no indication of who recorded it or why it was publicized to begin with.)

Beyond that, though, and because we do not have a context for what is happening (although given the folder David is holding, it looks like it was filmed around when the group photo was taken), I am just looking at the things that are most plainly visible. One of which is what you mentioned, with Michael jerking back suddenly into the woman behind him. It's been suggested that Anna touched Michael's arm to guide him to move because the other woman was trying to pass through. When I watched it again, though, it looked more like the order of events was Anna reached for Michael's arm, he visibly pulled back right when she made contact, and then the other woman moved to keep from colliding with him. That is my interpretation, at any rate.

It also looks like a conversation is happening (possibly between Michael and Georgia, with David in the middle), and Michael seems to look somewhat agitated. Georgia, who is on the right of the frame, appears to then slap her hand to get their attention. This very well could be because it was loud, there were a lot of people talking, and it was difficult to hear. Given how close she is standing to David, though, Georgia could have also just put a hand on his arm the way Anna did with Michael, but she didn't, and I'm a bit perplexed as to why. The hand slap actually reminded me of a school headmistress, or something Judge Judy would do, because those are the only two people I think I've ever seen do a gesture like that.

Whatever her reasons, it seemed to work, as David's head snapped up right away. I did notice though that Michael continued talking (perhaps possibly determined to get whatever point he was making across), and it gave me the feeling that he and Georgia were having a bit of a back-and-forth/fighting for David's attention. (I guess that means the answer to the question of, "Can Michael fight?" is "Yes, if David Tennant is involved".) It could also be that AL was trying to sooth him/get him to be more agreeable to whatever Georgia was saying, but it doesn't seem like that really worked.

Again, it's a very short video and without context it's hard to say anything definitive, but that is my interpretation. I'd still like to know where in the world this video even came from, especially because it seems to cut off so suddenly, giving the impression that there was more. Strange days indeed...

[ysrjune]

sam monroe smut with chubby reader🙏 PLEASE

She hates her weight but sam loves it and one day she’s crying because of a remark smby made and he comforts her :’)

Sam held you in his arms while you cried about something some girl said about your weight at school earlier. “Come on, beautiful, stop crying. You shouldn’t care about what that bitch has to say about you, she’s just mad she’s not as gorgeous as you.” He tried comforting you while rubbing your arm.

“But she’s right!” you continue to sob. “I try so hard to feel good about my body and stuff, but people just keep on commenting on it.” Sam could break into tears hearing his sweet girl talk bad about herself. He hated hearing about how much you hated your body because he loved it. He loved resting his hand on your tummy. He loved to squeeze your rolls.

To him, all that wasn't disgusting at all. He loved his chubby girl. The way your cheeks were so full, too, melted his heart. Especially when you'd smile. “Well, I don't think anything negative about your body. God, your body is literally worth worshipping, baby.” His hand trailed down to your plushy thighs.

You knew that. You knew Sam was obsessed with not just your body, but everything else about you. Even before you two were dating, he never made a negative comment about your weight. That was one of the reasons you started liking him in the first place. Every other guy you were friends with before Sam would say something atleast once about your body.

“That's real sweet of you, Sam, but I don't think so.” You hold his hand, sniffling. Your boyfriend shakes his head and forces you to lay on him. “Nah, I mean it. Just cause you have a tummy and a couple of rolls doesn't make you any less attractive, angel face.” He kissed your forehead and sat up against the headboard so that you were sitting on him properly.

“So cute, could just eat you up.” He quickly states and started sucking on your neck, leaving small kisses as well. “Sam—” You giggled at the sensation of his lips on your neck. “Stop, that tickles,” You try pushing his face awah from you, but he wouldn't budge. He did stop eventually, thank goodness. You look at your phone to open the camera to see how many hickeys he had left.

“4? Really, Sam?” You give him an unamused look even though you thought it was kinda funny. “You don't get it, huh?” His hand went down to your breast, holding onto it gently. “Just cause a couple of people tell you things about your body doesn't mean others don't find you attractive. I've seen a couple dorks check you out. Even when you're with me.” He rolled his eyes at the memory of it.

“Starin’ at your ass and thighs.” He says as both his hands travel to your ass. “‘least they know they can't have what's already mine.” He smirked, giving your ass a squeeze. “Ugh, you're such a pervert.” You reply playfully but also gently, slapping him. “Yeah, you like it, though. First time we fucked was because I was being a pervert and it turned you on.” He reminds you, sliding down your shorts.

“That didn't mean anything..” You blush at a little bit, feeling the way his fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts to pull them down. “Then what's happening right now? Are you sure you're not already soaked by me doing the bare minimum?” He whispers, looking up to you with those pretty blue eyes that were smudged with eyeliner.

You didn't want to answer that. He already knew it, so why is he asking? How could someone not get so turned on by a hot emo guy. Especially one that knows how to use his dick. He wasn't just good at using that, though. His fingers and his mouth were great, too.

Though, at first, he wasn't exactly as good as he is now. The first time he fingered you, he had no idea what he was doing. The first time he ate you out? He didn't know lots about that either despite all the porn he watched. It took him a couple times to get it all right, and by the 4th time he tried fingering/eating you out, he was real good at it.

The first time he stuck his dick in you, he came almost immediately and was so embarrassed about it, but that didn't stop him from continuing to thrust in and out of you. You wouldn't ever forget that moment cause once he came, he made the cutest little whimper ever. His face was flushed, and his eyebrows were pinched together, moaning and panting.

That was the first time he ever had sex, too. It felt so good, he didn't wanna stop even after cumming 3 more times. He was also just so obsessed with the wet noises your pussy would make with every thrust. Every moan you let out gave him less reason to stop.

“What, cat got your tongue? Can't tell me that your panties and practically stuck to that pretty pussy?” He snaps you out of your trance. “Mm, no.. was just thinking.”, “About what?” By this time, he already had you in only your bra and underwear, taking in the sight before him.

“The first time we fucked..” You admit to him, feeling his boner. “Fuck, you had me feelin’ so good that night, princess.” You help him out of his shorts, revealing his hard cock since he had no boxers on underneath. You rubbed the tip, making his hips jerk up a little bit. “Moaning your name like a little bitch ‘n shit.” He moved his hips against your fingers.

He shifted himself to where his dick met the fabric of your panties. Sam started thrusting against them, letting out small moans. “Please let me feel like that again, babe. please please please let me fuck you. I've been waiting so damn long.” It had been almost a month since you've had sex with him.

You thought of riding him so you could see his pretty face get all scrunched up when hes about to cum, but you remembered how much of a thing he had for you arching your back for him. “Should blow my back out.” You kiss his cheeks while he still thrusted against your clothed clit. “Mm, I'd love that.”

So, here you were. Moaning out his name into a pillow, but also hearing those cute noises of his. “Shit, shit, shit,” He moaned, smacking your ass and watching it jiggle with every thrust he made. “Yeah, mhm, you're so pretty, sweet girl. Mm, could do this forever.” He suddenly flipped you around and placed his hand on your tummy.

“You're so soft, oh my God.” He squeezed it a little, then moved his hand to your puffy cheeks. “So pretty,” He whimpered, letting you know he was close. “Uh—fuck. ‘m so close. Oh, you're so good.”, “So. Fucking. Good.” He thrusted with every word.

“Sam, Im gonna cum!” You hold onto his arm. “Gonna cum? So do it then, baby. Cum all over my cock, beautiful. Can do it, come on.” He led you on until he felt you tighten around him and release yourself onto his dick. It took him a few more thrusts to cum, but once he did, he pulled out and lay on you, hands grabbing onto your titties.

“Fuck, princess.” He panted and slid down to kiss your tummy, thighs, and everywhere that you were insecure. “Don't ever call yourself unattractive. I'd rather have my cuddly, chubby girlfriend than any other girl.”

Your boyfriend was truly the sweetest.

[cambrinkisbae]

*•♡never be like you pt 2 ♡¸.•*'

nika muhl x cheerleader!reader

"I am an architect, I'm drawing out the plan. its like 17, nobody understands "

word count - 2.6k

themes :

-slow burn

-comfort

warnings :

-toxic rls

-mentions to wet dreams

-cursing

a/n - I'm posting this today because one its my birthday and two I didn't want to starve you guys for longer than three days...

the amount of stress I had walking home was unremarkable. I had been staying at farah's dorm for a couple days. she already had a bed ready and made for me to sleep in once I texted her that I didn't want to be around Asher. I always kept a good amount of clothing there too so that I wouldn't have to take a trip to my apartment and deal with the millions of interrogations I would get from my boyfriend about where I was. the thought of seeing Farah completely cleared my brain and kept me calm until I walked off campus and began walking home. the door was locked. he never locked the door. I tore up my backpack looking for my keys but still couldn't find them. I kept on knocking on the door while searching for my keys before the door finally opened. there Asher was with his hair messed up. I took a moment to actually look up and look at his skin. his lips looked puffy, and had a red tint. more red than usual. his eyes were almost bloodshot.

"where were you huh? out with another guy?" he said while leaning on the door frame, already flexing his fists. I bit at the inside of my cheek, not being able to form words. its not like I was out with anyone other than Farah but I knew that no matter what I said, he wouldn't believe me. I held my breath and looked down at the floor while fidgeting with my rings. his hand rose up to my chin, grabbing onto hit and forcing me to look in his eyes. "fucking answer me." a couple tears started to well up in my eyes. I slowly swallowed the huge lump in my throat and croaked out the truth. "I was with Farah. no one else." his grip tightened around my skin before his other hand wrapped around my wrist, dragging me into the apartment. he snatched my bags out of my hands and tossed them in my room. the door slammed behind us before he took me into his room. "don't lie to me y/n. I know you are" his eyes were sinking into my soul every second that passed while our eyes were locked. I finally almost felt his grip loosen and the moment I thought it did, I attempted to rip my hand out of his grasp but he held onto me tighter. "asher can you please let go of me." I said, squirming my wrist back and forth as it turned red. this was the last thing I need right now.

right before I thought he would continue to pull at my wrist, he let go. tossing my wrist back at my side. a long relieved sigh was let out while I turned around to hide the couple of tears fell down my cheek. I sniffed in the small string of snot that was slowly falling from my nose and kept my face hidden.

"come here." Asher cooed while resting his hand on my waist. the light in his room was dimmed. the curtain were still open but barely let any light in since it was starting to get dark. before I spun around to look back at him, I reviewed how the room looked. it was mainly clean except for a couple pieces of clothing on the floor next to his bed. his bed had ruffled sheets and a comforter that was hanging off the side of the bed. I raised my eyes up to see that the closet door was almost closed and when I looked hard enough, I saw the white sclera of a girls eyes. my stomach dropped while she shut the closet door fully. Asher was only trying to turn me around so that I wouldn't see the naked girl hiding from me. as fun as it would be to call him out and slap both of the people across the face, I pretended that everything was fine. I let one more tear fall down my face while I turned to face asher's blue eyes. the man I was looking at right now was the one that always wondered if I was out getting fucked by another man. the man that couldn't keep away from me when he thought another mans hands was on me. the boy that told me if I was with anyone else, he'd kill me. when the entire time. it was another girl I should've been worrying about.

ashers knuckle dragged across my under eye, wiping the few tears off of my skin. he wiped the tear of his skin tight compressed shirt and then wrapped his arms around my waist, pretending to comfort me and care about me. I could tell that he was staring at the closet, hoping this girl wouldn't come out. yet he still acted like his eyes were facing my back, with his head down. he held me there in his arms before leading me onto his bed, stroking my hair. if he was going to cheat on me then I would just accidentally think it was Nika twirling my hair in her fingers. Nika who was rubbing my back. Nika. muhl, who was letting me fall asleep on her chest. I fell asleep with my makeup ruined like always but at least I didn't thing it was Asher who my dried mascara was falling on.

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the first thing I did when I woke up was check my phone. I ignored the fact that Asher was probably driving this random girl home while I laid on the bed she enjoyed my boyfriend on. when I opened my phone, I saw an Instagram notification.

nika.muhl started followed you

nika.muhl liked your post

nika.muhl liked your post

nika.muhl liked your post

damn. I mean at least it wasn't all of my posts.

i I actually unlocked my phone and texted Farah what happened last night. she called me within a second and all I could do was cry.

"hold on I'm coming to pick you up. grab asher's wallet."

farah took no time to drive over to my apartment and pick me up. she knocked on the door gently before stepping in once realizing that it was unlocked. I was still laying in asher's bed, tears soaked up my pillow case. I was wrapping myself around the blankets that was covering his body last night to try and find a sense of comfort. Farah been standing in the door way for a good amount of time before peeling me off of the mattress and standing me up in front of her. I refused to make eye contact until she raised my chin up with her finger. "listen to me. you are going to get through this. he's a cunt and I know you don't want to be with him. don't pretend like you do." she said sternly while wiping the few tears that fell down my skin. "cmon. lets go get coffee or something?" Farah wrapped her hand around my own, leading me out of the room.

for the first time in forever, I didn't even take the time to brush my hair or put on mascara or even change clothes. I just walked out the door, looking like I got hit by a bus, while being dragged to a coffee shops down the street by my best friend. she sat the two for us down at a table right next to the window. I felt a little breeze of cold air run through my hair each time the door next to us opened and closed. it was that hour that people would be coming inside for something to eat before classes. I swirled the stirring stick in my coffee,barely being able to take a sip.

obviously it hurt for Asher to manipulate me and act like I'm in the wrong. but its always been like that. it was always expected of him and I just got used to it. what I never thought he'd do is cheat on. especially when its all he thinks of me when I'm gone for more than 5 minutes "a cheater." the moment I locked eyes with that girl, all my emotions faded away and I was so lost I could even figure out who it was. but now that I'm thinking about it and remembering the moment. she had dark eyes. a taller yet thinner figure than my own. even with her hair disheveled across her head, I could see that it was darker, longer. I nearly spit out my coffee at the realization. he was sleeping with my second closest friend in the entire world. if Farah wasn't there to hold me (which she usually was) it was Natalie who would pull me in and kiss my forehead as if I'm a kid who scraped her knee. he was fucking Natalie Barlowe.

just a I was about to stand up and march to Natalie's house, Farah placed her hand on my shoulder mid setting down our breakfast. "woah woah what happened?" she gently pressed my shoulder down so that I would be seated.

"i-it was Natalie." - I choked out - "in the closet Farah. it was Natalie."

i felt my all my blood warm around my heart, almost squeezing it along with my lungs. I dipped my head down in my arms, pressing my now sweaty forehead on the ceramic table. the cool surface felt nice against all the heat that bubbled up in my head. hot tears fell down my eyes and I swear I could each and everyone of them splashing on the table beneath me. Farah's hand lurked up my back and slowly began rubbing back and forth. my back occasionally hitched up as more silent sobs left my mouth. I've felt this pain before and I never thought I would have to go through it again but here I am. Farah slowly slid into her own seat while trying to raise my head up to look at me. this time I wouldn't budge. not until I felt farah's hand leave my back to lift my body up and wrap her arms around me. still not letting my face into the public, my nose was dug into her shoulder while I continued to sob. once all the tears (for now) were emptied out, I pulled my head away from Farah's shoulder revealing my extremely puffy and red eyes. I quickly wiped a little bit of snot away from my nose and sat back down. I took a small bite out of the sandwich Farah bought for me. at this point I had no choice but to act and feel numb. I didn't smile but I didn't frown.

there was the breeze again. for some reason I felt the need to look at who was walking in the coffee shop now. to my surprise, it was Paige, Nika, and Aaliyah. I'm guessing they were trying their best to spend some time together before Nika and Aaliyah leave. once me and Paige's eyes locked, she sent over a small wave followed by her walking up to me and Farah's table. I looked away as fast as possible, covering my face with my hands, pretending to be asleep as if Paige didn't already see me shoot her a 'hey what's up' look.

farah was beyond confused by the fact that three star athletes from UConn were coming up to the two girls. I kept my head down, trying to dry some of my tears before someone could ask what's wrong with me. that's when I felt a tap on my back. "hey?" God that voice. I slowly lifted my head up and turned to see the 5'11 brunette standing above me. I felt my breath hitch and get stuck in my throat when I tried to speak. I cleared my throat and put my hand on Nika's, which was still resting on my back. I let her hand fall off of my hoodie but she kept a concerned look on her face. she tilted her head, using her eyes to ask me what happened. I had the idea of pulling her to the bathroom and explaining everything but that would awkward for almost everyone around me. Paige and Aaliyah quickly picked up a conversation with Farah, making her turn red out of embarrassment. I almost reached over to grab Nika's hand when she turned around to look at the people in this hop, I thought she was about to leave to buy a drink or something. I don't know why I was so freaked out by that thought. her hair flipped right back around when my finger grazed her hip after her hand. the way her eyes darted to mine sent a shock through my body and I swear the shop went silent.

as much as Asher hurt me, staring into Nika's eyes made me forget everything about. when I was with Nika it was like "who's asher?"

nika gave me a reassuring pat on the top of my hand, almost like she was letting me know she wasn't going anywhere no matter what. I looked behind me to see Farah sending me a 'save me' look but before I could barge in on whatever Paige was talking about, I blurted it out. "hey Nika do you want to go to a concert with me and Farah?" I have no idea why the fuck I did that but the good thing is I did.

"what?"

"what?" Nika and Farah said in unison. Nika's face almost lit up while Farah's slightly dropped. not with anger though, thank God. Nika's eyebrows furrowed towards her eyeballs while she scratched the back of her neck. "I mean-" she looked up at me then at Paige and then at aaliyah. they all gave her reassuring looks, telling her that she should go. "fuck it I guess. what day?" Nika pulled out her phone and opened the calendar app, getting ready to put down the date. Farah spoke before I could, "April 18th!" Nika quickly typed down the date and then shoved her phone back in her pocket. obviously I was fucking thrilled that Nika was coming with but how has she said yes when she doesn't even know who shes seeing? whatever. the only thing that mattered right now was the fact that one; I wouldn't have to deal with Asher at Olivia Rodrigo's concert and two; nika would be right next to me.

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me, Farah, Paige, Aaliyah, and Nika decided to just hang out together while we ate breakfast instead of sitting at different tables. I took that moment to fill everyone in on what happened, not that I should've been getting so close and personal with them but...I now deem them as my new group of people to trust. because apparently teammates aren't reliable. we all said our goodbyes before walking back to campus in different directions. me and Farah spent the walk debriefing how I very clearly had a crush on Nika muhl and that the concert would be a perfect opportunity to make a move. a second one that is. Farah kept on nudging my shoulder and poking ta my stomach while smiling proudly.

"I can't believe you actually did that and she said yes like holy shit!" this entire morning made me completely forget about what happened the night before. and this time it didn't creep up on me thirty minutes later. I actually didn't care about it for a whole day. of course the next day was still difficult, I had completely started bunking at Farah's place until I had the confidence to just ditch Asher. he didn't deserve my presence anyways so I packed my shit and ditched.

farah was probably the most supportive person to breath, and not even just because shes my best friend I mean she will support anyone and everyone. whether they've done her wrong or not. sometimes it worries me how forgiving she is but then again we just had a breakfast buffet under asher's name so...

when we were back at her place, I plopped myself dramatically onto her bed while spreading my limbs about. the only thing I could manage to picture in my head was Nika. I cannot believe I'm actually going to a concert with basically a stranger. she never struck me as the type to go out on such short notice with someone like me. I pulled out my phone from my pocket and began to mindlessly scroll on Instagram, looking for something to actually be interested in that wasn't day dreaming about nika. of course she just had to slide into my DMS right when I'm trying to not think of her. the text popped up at the top of my screen and I felt my heart drop. I was already active so there wasn't any possibility of me ignoring her message. Hey. This is y/n right? I read the message and constipated what to say for way longer than I should've. shes just asking if I'm myself. am I myself? yes. yeah I totally am. hiii, yes this is y/n! I texted back while my thumbs almost shook.

we ended up talking all night I feel embarrassed to say it but I am fully head over heels for this basketball player now as if I would ever have a chance when so many other people have probably made moves on her by now. but then again why would she spend 4 hours texting me about anything and everything. our conversations alone made me happier than I had been in the past 2 weeks and I had just met this girl. no one has had this effect on me since high school and to be honest I've missed the feeling.

when I finally turned my phone off I looked up to see Farah standing next to me like a mom catching her kid playing a video game after bedtime. she had her hands on her hips and smug smile plastered on her lips. "who's got you kicking your feet huh?" Farah knew exactly who it was but of course she shoved the name out of my mouth. Farah laughed so hard she was on the brink of tears when she came back up for air. that's when I noticed she had her phone aimed at me, sitting on her bed with my feet in the air kicking back and forth. that's going to be posted in no time. I quickly rolled over to hide the fact that I was having the time of my life crushing on this girl. and as much as I tried to hide it, I get red when I think about her and when shes anymore in my vicinity.

i spent the entire night staring at the ceiling dreaming about how on earth I would try to actually have Nika love me if that was even possible. and of course when I fell asleep the first thing I dreamed (the only thing) was what the night would be like after the concert. what we would do after. if we made it back to a hotel or just drove home. maybe stopped at a gas station or any parking lot. talked for a little bit. maybe about the concert then maybe about how badly I wanted my lips against hers. but hey that's just a what if. and just a dream. so when I woke up in the middle of the night I had to gaslight myself into believing it in fact was going to happen just so that I could sleep peacefully without another wet dream about Nika muhl.

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Chaotic Good | ateez x reader

Pairing: ateez x reader

Genre: drama, au, romance, revenge

Warnings: being pushed off a bridge

Word Count: 1442 words

a/n: hi! so, this is a random idea that came to mind a while ago. honestly, I'm not 100% sure the direction I want to take this yet. this is just a draft of what came to mind. as such, I would really appreciate your feedback on it!! Comments, reblogs, or if you'd like to PM or send an ask to give your thoughts would mean a lot to me because I like the idea, but I'm not sure where to take it/if it could get confusing. Thank you for reading! <3

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Out of breath, you limp along in the tunnel, suppressing the shivers and fear that coils in your stomach.

Your heart is hammering in your chest erratically with dread twisting in your gut and your throat tightening with terror. As you came to a clearing, the sky above you were unnaturally dark with layers of gigantic and heavy dark clouds giving off an ominous and threatening feeling. The misty haze that surrounded you was like a veil bringing with it a feeling of menace and dread while the wind seemed to escalate in strength and rattled the branches of the trees. There was a flickering of white light bursting across the sky and in the distance, thunder rumbled like the echo of a drum.

Glancing around at your surroundings, you notice that you’re on a broken bridge with caution tape plastered across the railings. You’re battered and bloodied, your clothes torn and pain surges through your body - a searing and grating ache that causes you to grit your teeth in agony and close your eyes tightly. Your hair is frazzled and deep down, amidst all the anguish, you’re silently praying for someone to find you and save you.

Suddenly, a car approaches you, its headlight blinding you from seeing who it is. A figure steps out, beautifully dressed in contrast to you. Her high heels are a glossy black and her dress is an eye-catching and short blood red dress. Her neck and arms are adorned in beautiful gold jewellery but if you look closer, those jewels are yours.

As she approaches you, lightening flashes through the sky and cuts through the darkness like a camera flash while a thunderous echo brings forth a shower of rain that drenches the two of you in no time. Under the bridge, the sea boils and churns with crested waves hurling against the large boulders.

You were beginning to get delirious as the pain began to rob you of any rational thinking. With tears pooling at the rims of your eyes, you shallowly breath in a breathe before speaking to the person in front of you.

“Why?” You ask meekly, “Why are you doing this?”

The girl in front of you gloats evilly and as she steps right in front of you, she slaps you hard. 

“They’re mine,” she sneers, “You don’t deserve any of what you have.”

Love, adoration, affection and respect. You have won hearts from around the world in an instant ever since you started your career. You are a part of the group Ateez and while being the only female member brought forth a fair share of criticism and controversy, many fans fondly regarded you for being yourself - your talent shining through every time you took the stage and it was inspiring to all those who would be in the crowd. All eight boys love you dearly, notably Yunho, who was the first to pursue you.

But the person on this bridge with you, who is supposed to be your best friend, the one you thought you could trust - is actually a wolf in sheep’s clothing - a snake in the grass. Initially, she supported you dearly but you noticed a shift in her behaviour after returning from the European leg of the tour. She began to flirt with your boyfriends and get extremely close. She would borrow your things and never return them, forcing you to ask back for it constantly.

When you confronted her, she accused you of jealousy and told the boys about it. They stood up for you but then, strange things began to happen. You found yourself in scandals one right after the other, the worst being when a news outlet got wind of one of Yunho’s deepest secrets that only you and the boys knew. As much as you tried to defend yourself, Yunho refused to look at you, and the next thing you knew, an article released an exclusive about Yunho and your friend, who were both seen together sharing a kiss.

Yunho contends it was a drunken mistake but to help bury the hatchet of all the sudden scandals surrounding the group, the company confirms the two of them are dating - that they have known each other for a long time and have begun getting to know each other more intimately. Heartbroken and devastated, you yell at Yunho seeking answers but all he tells you that maybe it’s for the best right now, if you didn’t create all these problems, he wouldn’t have to pretend. The others are torn and spend less time with you outside of practice. 

And now, here you are, your friend Ara grabs your hair and pushes you harshly towards the broken railings. Your head begins to spin and you feel yourself moving in and out of consciousness. The colour was drained from your face, and fresh terror began to rear up within you. Your body was beginning to feel numb and you didn’t dare move as fear and anxiety eclipsed your thoughts.

“You won’t get away with this,” you cry out, “The heavens above see you for the monster that you are.”

“I already have gotten what I wanted,” she snips sharply, “And no one will take it away from me. Heaven would have to send someone better than me, and honestly? There isn’t anyone.”

Laughing maniacally, she pushes you hard and you feel the edges of the broken railing cutting your skin. Before you can even register what happens, you’re already falling. Time seems to slow down as memories of your life flashes across until you plunge in the deep, icy cold and roaring waters.

Thunder boomed throughout the sky, shaking everything to its core with the trees thrashing and writhing against the fierce winds while you sank to the bottom of the ocean, completely alone.

-

Goddess Persephone watches in anger and fury at the events that just occurred while her husband Hades remains pensive. Rage is thrumming through her veins and her irritation crackled with her temper sparking.

Many years ago when you were a baby, during the Spring Equinox, your parents, who were anthropologists, visited the temple of Demeter in Eleusis and prayed for your protection for years and years to come. Goddess Persephone was enamoured by your innocence and accepted you like her own, watching over you since then.

“This cannot happen.” she seethes.

“There is nothing we can do,” Hades responds, “Fata viam invenient.”

“No,” Persephone states, “That girl has haughtily challenged Fate itself. She believes she is higher than the Fates. I will not condone it.”

Hades sideyes Persephone recognizing the resolution in her voice.

“So what do you propose should happen?”

Persephone remains quiet for a minute before signalling a maid, “Find our daughter. Tell her she has a quest.”

Meanwhile, in a beautifully decorated, dimly-lit room, a young girl awakens from her slumber. As she stretches, she gazes around her room before slowly making her way out of bed. She drapes on her favourite ebony silk robe before exiting, taking the glass of orange juice that is already waiting for her. As she strolls down the golden hallway, those who are passing by bow before her. And then, a maid runs up to her.

“Your Mother wants to see you.”

Taken aback the girl responds, “What for?”

“You have a quest.”

-

“I don’t want a quest.” The girl states matter of factly towards her parents.

“Too bad. You’re doing it.” Hades responds blankly.

“Mommm, why are you sending me on a quest? Why can’t you send my brother?”

“Because Y/N, only you can fulfil this mission.”

Persephone gestures towards the crystal ball in the middle of the room. As she touches it, flashes of memories run across until the last one - the one at the bridge fades into the cloudy mist.

The girl is taken aback at the mistreatment you have incurred and turns to her mother with concern.

“She looks just like me…and she has the same name.”

“I named you after her. Her mother and father brought her to your Grandmother’s temple many years ago. You were born not too long after.”

“Why does she look like me?”

“The Fates work in mysterious ways so for that I cannot explain,” Persephone answers, “Nevertheless, we can use it to our advantage. I’m sending you to earth, you will take her place for now.”

“And do what exactly?”

Persephone turns to her daughter, an exact look-alike of you. Truly, it could possibly be considered a marvel to witness. The daughter of Hades and Persephone was an exact carbon copy of you.

Persephone smiles at her before declaring unapologetically. 

“Seek revenge.”

[1d1195]

Dolcezza Extra I

Read Dolcezza here | ~4.7k words

From me: this is something I’ve never done before: an alternate idea to something I've already written. I will be copying and pasting parts to keep the continuity but I hope you like it. It was pretty fun. The first couple paragraphs are from the original part. I’m sure you can all follow without me telling you all this. Have fun!

Warnings: stalking, scary (?) Also, no clue what kinds of protocols are supposed to be in place for this sort of thing. I don't think it makes a lot of sense logistically or law-wise. But that's not what we're here for, right?! I wanted it to kind of go right in the middle of Part 8, like starts in the beginning-ish part of it and end essentially in the same way.

It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.

The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.

Harry dropped a knife for the third time on the same onion he had been trying to dice for the last five minutes. He growled to himself, snagged it off the floor (nearly slicing his hand from his anger overtaking rational thought to pick it up by the handle), and all but tossed it in the sink.

“Why not just talk to her?” Niall muttered across the way.

“Shut up,” he snapped, bitterness coating his voice. Niall raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head. He turned the other way, turned his attention to the soup he was pouring into bowls. “M’going to,” he mumbled grabbing a clean knife as he started chopping again. “Sorry.”

He nodded. “It’s alright. Just thinking we could really use her help,” Niall smirked.

Harry snorted. “Y’could probably ask her,” he mumbled. “She’d come running t’help m’sure.”

“Yeah, but it defeats your whole she’s spreading herself too thin. And then I’m no different than rest, huh?”

Harry sighed, grateful for his understanding. “You’re a really good friend, Niall.”

“Don’t I know it,” he laughed. It was infectious. Hard to keep Harry in a bad mood and he prayed to God the orders slowed soon so he could run up and beg her to come help Niall and him because as much as he didn’t want to ask her for another thing, working with her on busy nights were some of his favorite moments.

Harry’s phone was still vibrating. He wondered if he set a timer for something and it was just going off continuously. “M’phone’s been ringing nonstop.”

“Mum?” Niall asked.

“No... she knows m’at work. Plus, she’d call the restaurant if it was an emergency. I gave her the number.”

“S’probably an alarm, yeah?”

“Yeah... probably.”

“Oh, she’s here,” Niall mumbled his gaze narrowing at the slip of paper in his hand. “Eggplant and two times the extra garlic bread…” Niall waved the ticket out like he always did when they realized the arrival of Harry’s Principessa.

Well, at least Harry wouldn’t have to sprint upstairs to apologize. Still, it was odd she didn’t make herself known when she got there even if they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Harry glanced toward the window for a peek to see if she was there, but he was too far away. “Niall did you see her?” He asked.

“No…” his voice was low, over the bustle of the few staff that were in the kitchen, Harry hardly heard him. Like he was piecing a puzzle together. He was studying the slip. Like it would give him the hint.

“See who?” The hostess asked. She was grabbing a take-out order off the counter that Niall had just finished packaging. Niall slid the ticket into the holder still examining it.

“Principessa,” Niall mumbled. “She always orders extra garlic bread with her eggplant.”

“Oh yeah she’s here with her brother or something,” Antonio’s nephew, Matteo, jumped right into the conversation as he brought back empty plates from the dining room.

Harry’s head snapped up from the veggies he was cutting and tossing into a pot to make a sauce. “Brother...?” Harry didn’t think that made sense at all. He remembered seeing “James groceries” on her calendar while he cleaned earlier in the week. It was always done on a day when James had to work in the evening so there was no way he would have come all the way out here for dinner. Still, he thought Harry would have known if James was here—between his protective brother streak or even just saying hello and thank you for the food. Harry thought she would bring him right back here to the kitchen and make herself at home.

But maybe Harry misread it. Or maybe James finally suspected she was tired and strung out and was taking a step to help with his kind older sister.

“Well, it’s not dinner with you; so, who else would it be?” Matteo reminded them with a shrug.

Niall gasped dropping the plate he was holding, and it shattered to the ground. Everyone stopped to look at him and he grabbed the ticket once more. Like it finally revealed the missing clue. At the same time Harry dropped the fourth knife he was using because if Matteo hadn’t said “who else would it be” they might not have put it together right then.

Harry hurried to the window and searched. “Where’s she sitting?” His voice was hurried. There was a one second pause. “Matteo, now!”

“Corner, near the door. What’s—”

“Niall...” Harry’s body felt weak and shaky. His blood was hot and boiling immediately. His vision was getting blurry at the edges, and he had never felt so close to throwing up in his whole life. Not even when he had the flu in university.

Why was his phone vibrating still?

“Oh no,” he murmured reaching for the phone in his pocket.

“Shit!” Niall hissed looking at the direction of the man sitting across from the pretty girl all the way across the restaurant.

Harry slid his thumb across his phone without taking his eyes off the table across the main room. The weakness he felt ached through every inch in his body. “Eleanor, I—”

He yanked the phone away from his ear as she responded, loudly, shouting. “Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!? Why do you even have one!?”

Harry felt sicker at the accusation. How could he not look at his phone? “El—”

“Harry it’s bad,” Eleanor sobbed, barely getting the words out. Harry could hear Louis shushing her as best he could. “It’s really bad.”

It was every one of Harry’s worst nightmares.

*

She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her, and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.

Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.

“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.

“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more and she stepped back as the door opened. Her jaw dropped along with her phone smacking to the ground. She could faintly hear Eleanor calling at the sound of the noise.

The man before her smiled excitedly, relieved. “You’re home. I knew I’d find you,” he sighed with relief reaching for her. Instinctively she took a step back, it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from throwing up all over herself or the not-so-stranger. “I’m so glad I’ve found you; I missed you so much.”

Her heart was pounding erratically. Her only saving grace was knowing Eleanor heard. She reached for her phone. Autopilot. Grab the phone that clattered to the floor.

He kicked it out of the way. “You don’t need that,” he assured her with an easy smile. She straightened; cleared her throat.

“I…don’t?” She whispered. She should have spoken louder so Eleanor could hear. Of course, she loved her apartment, and she loved Antonio and the little family he invited her to be part of that was Dolcezza. Right then, however, she wanted to cry that her apartment was soundproofed beyond auditorial recognition. Her eyes dropped to the fabric in his hand. She swallowed the bile that continued rising in her throat while he looked at her as if he had known her his whole life.

“No,” he shook his head.

Her mind wasn’t working. She was exhausted and terrified and poor Eleanor was screaming from the other end of the line. He grabbed the phone. “Hi Eleanor,” he said simply. “She’s okay. We’re going on a trip, she’ll be safe with me,” he assured her.

Then he left her phone on the side table. Hanging up and leaving it there. It started to vibrate immediately; Eleanor desperate to hear her answer again. Instead, he ignored it, held his hand out for her to take. “I need my stuff—” she stepped toward her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked it away, like he burned her. She gasped at the touch, and he frowned.

“Sorry—”

Her fight or flight kicked in and she bolted for the bathroom. It would lock and she would drop from the second story if necessary or scream until Harry heard her.

Oh. Harry.

Right as she tried to slam the door shut behind her his foot got in the way. She yelped as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the room. “Honey, stop fighting me,” he grumbled bitterly. She felt so sick. So scared. She wanted to scream and cry but it would be useless. No one would hear her. She needed to make someone hear her.

Slowly, painfully slowly, her brain started to work. It wasn’t much. But she prayed silently to herself that it would be. She took a shaky inhaled breath. “I’m…sorry,” her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. She was too scared. It was a nightmare, but she could feel the way her teeth bit into her cheek. It wasn’t something she would be waking up from. “I’ve had a really long week and a really long day. I haven’t eaten yet,” she whispered. “I was going to go downstairs and eat at the restaurant,” she sniffled. “Can we do that? A date?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say it. Her fingernails dug into her palms reminding her further it was a nightmare. It had to work. Please let it work.

“A date?” He mused. He stuffed the fabric in his hands into the pocket of his pants.

“Please,” she whispered. “I’m starving.”

“And then we can go to my place?”

The idea was so nauseating, so terrifying, she worried that it wouldn’t work. If the food got to her table, she was so incredibly scared she wouldn’t be able to eat it. Her whole body felt shaky and clammy. Like when she had the flu. One bite and she would be puking all over her table.

But hopefully that would get Harry’s attention.

“Okay,” he agreed and held his hand out for her to take. It felt like cheating on Harry to hold someone else’s hand. She forced the tears behind her eyes and willed the nausea to stay in the pit of her stomach.

She placed her hand in his.

*

Harry was pacing trying to figure out how to tell her he knew. Niall was on the phone with the police begging for no sirens and no lights. Eleanor was, in the smallest of possible ways, relieved to hear she was in the restaurant and not halfway to somewhere they didn’t know.

Harry couldn’t see her face. It killed him. Why didn’t he go up sooner? Why didn’t he beg for her to come down and help so they could make up? Why didn’t he insist and help her stubborn self the way he wanted to?!

“Goddamnit!” He shouted and shoved a bin of clean cutlery on the floor. It was so loud the restaurant ceased to make noise for a prolonged moment.

“Harry,” Niall was off the phone with the police Eleanor sobbing in his other ear no doubt. “You need to be smart. They cannot leave before the police get here or we’re fucked. Eleanor already sent the detective on her case to his old place of residence and there is no sign of him there. So, if they leave…” he trailed off and Harry released a strangled noise from his throat. Not quite a cry, not quite a yell. The pain was so intense from the thought he thought he could feel it in the atoms of his body. “If you cannot have a controlled response...,” Niall warned without finishing the sentence.

Harry swallowed the feeling of being sick down. He knew what Niall meant. “Okay,” he croaked.

Everyone was still trying to work. But the whispers ensued. Within moments, everyone knew. Everyone was trying to piece together a plan and Harry felt so confused, so lost, so scared because the only one he could ever imagine getting out of this situation was his sweet Principessa herself.

“Alright,” he cleared his throat. He needed to be brave. She needed him. She never needed anyone. The weight of that made him terrified. Shaking his head he pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes to stop the stressed tears from escaping. He swallowed and shook his head again. She did the hard part. She got herself in the restaurant and Harry’s attention without even talking to him. “Niall, bring out the garlic bread in three minutes,” he ordered while untying his apron and heading for the door to the alleyway. “Tell Eleanor to tell the detective to hurry.”

*

The restaurant was easily one of her top five favorite places in the world. But right now, she wanted to scream and run from it. Where was Harry or Niall?! God, she wanted to kill Matteo. How did he not know? Wasn’t everyone under a silent direction to tell Harry when she arrived?

The worry began to take over. Harry wasn’t coming to her rescue because he didn’t want to. She pushed him away and he was going to let—

No.

Harry, despite how mad he might have been, would never let anything happen to her. She was certain.

Wasn’t she?

Perhaps Harry really just didn’t know. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do about it. Especially without any indication that anyone knew she was there. Her back was to the restaurant, and she was still in her gym clothes. With her back turned, hair in a ponytail, she was probably less recognizable than normal. That had to be it. He had no idea she was there.

It was a miracle she could keep her breathing as even as she did. The thoughts started to spiral further. Maybe he wouldn’t know. It was really busy in the restaurant—Matteo might not have noticed she was there with a stranger when he seated them since the hostess wasn’t there. Maybe he didn’t tell Harry yet.

Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears it was hard to hold a conversation with him almost because she couldn’t hear him; more so than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. But she didn’t have a choice. He asked her about work, her family, and if she had been reading anything good. She wasn’t into it—it was obvious and she wished she was because the only thing that was going to save her was being able to play it off that she didn’t want to crawl out of her skin at the sight or sound of him. Her stomach was churning, and her voice was so quiet she wished she could do a better job acting but she was terrified. Pain started behind her eyes, and she wanted to scream.

“Good evening.”

Her head snapped up to Harry briefly, who seemingly appeared out of thin air. Her jaw dropped silently. She was really beginning to believe that he wasn’t coming to her rescue. But now he was there. He knew she was there. He was going to help. She was sure of it.

He knew she was there.

Her heart started to pound in a new way, still scared but for the first time in twenty minutes she took a deep cleansing breath; relieved. She looked at her lap afraid to give it away that she knew him.  “We are very short staffed this evening. We’re extremely sorry for the delay,” Harry sounded so formal, and she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she would cry. “Your food will be out as soon as we can. Please be patient with us. We’re very sorry.”

If she looked up, she knew his eyes would be looking at her. She knew his apologies weren’t about the food. The gravity in his voice said he was sorry because he didn’t know she was there sooner. He was sorry he didn’t come upstairs or to her rescue faster. A tear slipped across her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Do you have a bathroom?” She asked.

“I don’t think—”

“Of course,” Harry interrupted hurriedly; she could practically hear the excitement in his voice. Like he was grateful she had a plan because he was a little stuck, a little lost. It made her feel weak immediately. The worry Harry must have felt because of her made her feel guilty and sad. She wanted to fix it and it was hard she felt like she was balancing on a tightrope. She hoped Harry wouldn’t hate her for running the second she had the opportunity. “I’ll lead you,” he offered.

“You just used the bathroom upstairs, honey,” the man reminded her. His voice was tight.

He was going to be mad if she left; that much was evident. “Well, I just—” She started.

“She’s all set, actually. Thank you.”

Harry stared at him. Weighing his options. She could see it. She cleared her throat. “Um...it’s okay,” she whispered quietly. Refusing to look at Harry again. If she did, she was going to blow what little cover she had. Poor Harry. “M’just a little tired,” she assured him, trying to sound braver than she felt.

“S’back and to the left,” Harry murmured and then headed to the next table and explained the short-staffed shift again. She wondered what he was thinking and what he was saying to the table. They looked like regulars, but she wasn’t completely sure because her mind was frazzled. Harry leaving her to fend for herself, even though he was only four feet away at most had her aching for him more than she ever wanted to hold his hand in her whole life.

Harry was losing his mind. He knew she understood his apology for taking so long. He knew that she understood between the lines that he was apologizing for Matteo’s mistake in not telling him sooner. Harry would have been out in the dining room so much faster. As much as it pained him to see her seated across from another man, regardless of the circumstances. It would have been better if she was with another guy in general. At least he wouldn’t be worried sick about her safety.

It took every bit of his strength to keep blowing their cover. To keep from shaking while he told the next table that they were short-staffed. They quietly inquired about the strange man sitting with the sweet girl they all had grown to know as their sometimes-waitress and Harry’s lovely Principessa. He quietly murmured something and then casually bumped into the table dropping the knife near the edge to the floor. As he bent to grab it, he murmured to the guy, pleaded with his eyes as he tried to whisper devoid of emotion. “Do not let her leave with him.”

Harry moved to the next table—strategically he chose the tables that allowed him to keep her in his peripheral. It was killing him. The shaking was becoming uncontrollable, and the whisper beg to the couples, imploring for help from the people he had gotten to know over the years, was getting strangled in his throat as he moved to the third and fourth table.

He was at a loss. The bathroom was a great idea, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to get her from point A to point B. Maybe he could pour hot soup on her, insist she come to the kitchen for help. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to spill their hot soup in her lap either. He supposed he could throw ice cubes in it and make it less horrible on her delicate skin, but he had to do something! His mind was spiraling. He wouldn’t see her in his peripheral in just two more tables and he was already about triple the distance of what he wanted to be from her—granted even an inch of space given the scenario seemed more horrific than he could bear.

He was feeling nauseous. Maybe he should just grab her by the hand and pull her away. But they had a chance to get rid of him. To keep him away from her once and for all. He violated the restraining order. That had to be something. He would have to go away.

Despite the fact she was so close but felt like an entire galaxy away. Harry was crumbling internally. This poor older woman who had been coming in every Saturday for years looked at him with pity in his eyes as he repeated his spiel once more. The agony he felt was in every inch of his bones, every pore of his skin. His eye was twitching.

When he got her safe and out of harm’s way, he planned on never letting go of her. At least not for a few days. He was going to kiss her and hold her. Apologize to her and cook for her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Harry was going to tell her he loved her and didn’t care if she was stubborn or felt like she was hard to care for because she didn’t like to be needy. He was needy. He needed her. It was killing him to be so close and so far away. So helpless and terrified that he couldn’t help her the way he wanted to right then. Even scared shitless, he thought she was beautiful and brave. So brave. She got here. She got his attention. That had to mean something. She believed in Harry and that he would find her or know she was there despite the frustration and anxiety she felt.

It was hard to believe it was only three minutes since he actually talked to her and apologized for taking so long. Niall came from the back with a plate of garlic bread as promised. Niall was going to come up with the next part of the plan, Harry hoped. Hell, he would go back to the table, feigning exhaustion for apologizing twice. God, he needed to get a bowl of soup, he was going to have to spill it in her lap! It was the only way.

Harry listened intently as Niall arrived at their table. He could almost see the glitter of her tears in her eyes. Nearly crying again at the sight of Niall. He wanted to make a joke more than anything that it had nothing to do with Niall but everything to do with her favorite bread in his hands. But he was mortified. Speechless in front of a table waiting with waited breath as they heard the murmurs and the wisps of what Harry managed to mumble before Niall’s arrival.

“Garlic bread,” he announced, as if she didn’t know. “Buon appetite,” he winked casually. He was far better at lying and acting than Harry or herself combined. She was itching to run. Niall and Harry, both could stop him. Someone would tackle him, right? She was fluttery. Ready to leave as soon as she saw an opening because she didn’t know what else to do. “Can I get you two anything else?” Niall asked kindly.

“I know you,” he said. It lacked suspicion but was no less terrifying.

She could see Harry’s back straightened in her peripheral and his speech silenced. Matteo and the hostess were working from the other end of the room at the same time. Probably explaining the situation to every table as quietly as they could just like Harry was.

Without any tell in sight, Niall merely tilted his head and looked at him. “Hmm...sorry. M’not sure I recognize you,” he shrugged. Niall stepped closer, getting a better look at the man across from her. His acting skills deserved an award.

But in moving closer, Niall also blocked her a good margin from his view. It was her chance. She bolted. Running from the main room and toward the kitchen so fast it took a minute for anyone to realize she was gone. She zipped out the kitchen door, back through the alley, and up to her apartment. She heard a shout coming quickly behind her, so she had to be faster. She hurried back into her apartment unable to do anything but grab her phone off the table and run into the bedroom and hide in the closet, closing the door quietly behind her. She dialed Eleanor. Her heart pounding as she heard the sound of steps. She left the door open to make it look like she ran back out, but it was impossible.

He was already in the apartment. Already tearing through her belongings, shouting, upending her furniture, and rifling through everything.

“Babe?” Eleanor nearly screeched with relief.

“I can’t talk,” she whispered barely an audible octave.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay on the phone,” she promised. “The police are on their way.”

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[auteurdelabre]

SO MUCH TO LOSE part 10 - dark!Joel x f!reader

rating: 18+

words: 7.5k

TW: HEAVY EMOTIONAL CHAPTER. MENTIONS OF TRAUMA. Allusions to oral sex, m receiving, allusions to f/m penetrative sex.

a/n: I told y'all this chapter's a doozy. Well it is, but maybe not for the reasons you think. . . To me its one of the most important chapters of this whole story.

series masterlist

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

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

SO MUCH TO LOSE CHAPTER 10

You visit Maria the following week with a plate of cookies in hand. She’s the one to answer the door and you are relieved when you see that she is showered and dressed. Things must be improving. She brings you into a tentative hug when you arrive, urging you inside out of the fresh dusting of snow.

“Tommy has Douglas out for a little walk. I’ll make you a coffee.”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Just came to drop off some baking. I’m heading to Ellie’s later this week and needed to get some practice in. I haven’t done much baking lately and wanted to make sure I wasn’t rusty.”

You join her on the couch, watching as she wraps her hands tightly around her coffee mug. She takes tentative sips between munches of cookie. At the first bite she literally moans.

“This is so good.”

“Thanks. They were Charlotte’s favorite.”

Maria licks the crumbs from her lips before leaning back on the sofa. She’s always been slender and she looks almost as she did back before she gave birth, except for the small pouch at her lower belly. You think she looks better with it.

“Was Charlotte your daughter?”

“Oh no. I never had kids.”

“We’re you ever married?”

“Me?” you almost laugh. “No.”

“Oh,” Maria blinks and her mouth tugs to the side. “I thought you might be. You have a nurturing quality about you.”

 “I think you give me too much credit.”

Maria grins, taking another bite of cookie. The two of you chat amiably a bit about the changing weather, of the way the inhabitants of Jackson City get along so well. Of how she feels the pressure of being Jacksons’ ‘First Lady’. Of how the bandits that fuck with the dam that supports the city stresses her daily.

“It’s a fucking nightmare some days,” she cites with a grumble. “Thank goodness for Tommy.”

“He’s a good man,” you tell her.

“He is,” she smiles indulgently before shooting you a lingering look. “What do you think about Joel?”

“How do you mean?”

“You do patrols with him, right?” 

“Can’t say I was always his biggest fan,” she says, taking another sip from her mug. “But he’s grown on me.”

“Yeah.”

You hold in the scoff that’s already begun in your throat.

“My friend Jennifer seems to think he’s pretty wonderful,” you offer instead. “She was delighted to help him repair the window last week.”

“She the blonde one? Used to do textiles?” Maria knows everyone thanks to her position.

“Yeah.”

“Not his type,” Maria insists with a shy grin. “She’d eat him alive.”

Jennifer doesn’t seem like she would eat anyone alive.

“Joel is all harsh edges,” she explains when she sees your confusion. “He needs someone soft to balance him out. That Jennifer girl is hard.”

You don’t think that you would consider Jennifer hard and you don’t fight Maria on it because the conversation quickly turns to Jackson’s continued increase of population, the place swelling with new life.

“Plenty of single men,” Maria says with a quirked brow in your direction. You give a soft laugh.

“Not really interested.”

“Single women too.”

“No no,” you laugh again, cheeks pinking. “I like men, I just . . . I don’t think I’m the partnering type.”

You think of Luke and his sweet features and his muscled forearms. For him you could perhaps be the partnering type. Perhaps. The thought of romance appeals to you; it just doesn’t seem realistic at times. A crush feels fun and safe.

“You must have had your share of dates,” Maria insists. You can see her relaxing and you think she must be enjoying what she views as girl time. You think she must not have had much of it lately.

“Normal crushes and stuff,” you shrug. “But I was a late bloomer and then the outbreak started when I was a teenager so I didn’t have a chance for a lot of firsts back then.”

“Sex,” Maria nods.

“Uh yeah… that…” you say, trying to appear nonchalant. “And uh, kissing, dating, all that stuff.”

“But you did eventually,” Maria cites smiling.

“Sex? Oh yes,” you nod. You weren’t a monk or anything in your time before Jackson City.

“What was your first time like?” Maria settles back against a cushion, nibbling at her cookie looking at you eagerly. “I remember mine was all fumbling in the backseat of his truck before curfew.”

You laugh and think Maria must be starved for company to be intrigued by your limited romantic experience.

“Uh… fast,” you say with a laugh before allowing yourself to be transported back to that time. “He worked at one of the bakeries that I assisted in. I remember he had the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen on a man. They were so blond you could only see them if he turned at a certain angle. He made me laugh. One night he invited me back to his apartment and… that was that.”

“How old were you?”

“Uh, twenty two, twenty three?”

“And you didn’t date after?”

“Nah, my family left that QZ kinda in a hurry.”

You aren’t expecting your voice to hitch on that last sentence, but it does.  Maria grows somber, her dark eyes expressive.

“Can I ask why you left?”

You blink back the sheen of tears starting and gaze around the room, trying to land on something that will steel you. You find it in the small carving of a horse on the bookshelf nearby. You tell your story to that delicately made creature instead.

“We moved east through the QZ’s for about ten or eleven years. Stayed in a few of them before we’d pick up and keep moving to the next one. Hard to make connections and date with all that. I didn’t trust that I’d have the time.”

Maria looks like she wants to ask more when the door is opened and Tommy’s cheerful voice rings out announcing he and Douglas are home and ready for lunch.

“We have company!” Maria says cheerfully.

Tommy turns the corner to see you and he greets you. He wears Douglas strapped to him with fabric, snuggled under his large jacket. Jackson is sleeping soundly and barely notices when Tommy unwraps and hands him off to his mother.

Douglas squirms, his tiny head burrowing into Maria’s neck. She smiles and for the first time you’ve known her it looks sincere. There is a lightness in the house you realize, something that had been missing before.

“He enjoyed being out in the fresh air,” Tommy announces. “Everyone who saw him wanted to kiss him.”

“Tommy!” Maria looks horrified.

“But I didn’t let ‘em,” Tommy finishes, pressing a gentle kiss to his wife’s worried brow. “I’m gonna make some soup. You two want a bowl?”

“I’m alright,” you say. “I just brought by dessert. I’m actually heading over to Ellie’s to do some baking.”

“Joel’s letting you use his place to bake?”

You still, brows raised. “Uh… yeah. Is that… should I not be?”

“No, I’m just surprised,” Tommy admits after a pause. “I don’t think he’s ever let anyone in that house aside from me and Maria. Think the only reason he and Ellie don’t kill each other is ‘cuz she’s in the garage.”

“Oh.”

You don’t know what else to offer besides that.

Tommy nods and for a moment you see something in his expression, a pinched look when Maria looks away from him.  You realize that Tommy looks harried, running a hand through his glossy curls.

“What’s up?”

“Nothin’,” Tommy replies too quickly.

You see the panic in his eyes as his gaze darts from his wife back to you. You understand immediately. Maria is doing well, if there’s something stressful in Jackson City he doesn’t want to bother her with it.

“Thanks for the tea Maria, but I better head out,” you inform them both.

Maria wraps you into a side hug, one arm around your shoulders, the other holding her son. You run your knuckles down his spine gently.

“Come back soon,” she whispers.

“I promise.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Tommy says, feigning manners. The two of you walk to the front door around the corner. As you toe on your boots you look up at him expectantly.

“Well?”

Tommy looks over his shoulder anxiously before dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper only you can hear.

“Rumor is Raiders were spotted by A Patrol this week,” Tommy says with a sigh. “Up by the traps.”

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Really?”

“Not positive. A Patrol isn’t always the most reliable. They spook easy and are overly cautious. But I’d rather that than the alternative.”

“Of course.”

“Just make sure you and Joel are extra cautious,” Tommy says. “I know you’re both responsible but, you know…. Just be extra responsible.”

You nod, feeling your heart thrumming in your chest as you make your way to Rancher Street.

///

You didn't really want to go to Joel's house today. But Ellie had found you last night heading home from The Tipsy Bison and had guilted you into it when she told you that Joel had brought back all the supplies needed. 

You'd tried to sway her into baking at your place but only the burners on your oven work. You'd never really considered getting the main oven fixed, since you take most of your meals in the dining hall.

But in moments like this, you heavily regret that choice. 

You feel like even your footsteps sound timid as they make their way up the wood steps. 

Ellie is at the door, pulling it open before you can even knock. She must have been looking for you at the window, counting down the seconds until your arrival. The thought warms you. She gives you a broad smile that lights up her face.

"I got everything set up!"

She takes off down into the kitchen and you venture into the Miller home tentatively, still anxious about what happened last time.  

A sound to your right draws your attention and you take in the tall form of Joel coming into the room. He's dressed in jeans and a sweater, obviously feeling the chill despite the cheery fire that roars behind him. 

"Mornin'," he greets. 

"Morning." You lick your lips nervously. "Thanks for letting me bake with Ellie."

"'Course. She's been looking forward to it for weeks. Can't stop talkin' about it.'

Joel gives you a whisper of a smile but the thing that really throws you about this interaction is that he looks almost nervous. You've never seen Joel look nervous. 

He'd been so stiff after last patrol, not even saying goodbye to the group after you'd all disembarked off the horses. 

It had been embarrassing. Him storming off like you'd all done something wrong. Only Jennifer seemed to still be under Joel's spell citing that watching him hammer the window would fuel her fantasies for months to come.

You're still really irritated with him but it's lessened slightly because his greeting isn’t hostile. You could almost relax if it weren’t for the intense way he’s staring at you.  

You hear your name being called by Ellie in the next room so you toe off your shoes and head into the kitchen. She's got an apron on, borrowed from the kitchen or Joel because it's far too big for her small frame. 

"Alright," you give her a warm smile as you enter. "You got everything?"

"Yep."

You place the bag you brought on the counter. You remove your own apron, baby blue with ruffles on the end. A recent gift from Jennifer who told you “since you’re a real chef you need your own apron”. You tie it as you speak to Ellie.  

"So what I like to do is set up all my supplies on the counter just to double check I have everything. Nothing worse than being halfway through a recipe and finding out you you’re missing ingredients."

The sentence isn't even out of your mouth before Ellie’s opened up her cupboards and ice box and begun to take everything out. Flour, eggs, bowls, milk and more, all the items you gave Joel on the list. She places them on the counter before looking at you like a proud student. 

"You'll need measuring spoons."

The two of you turn at the same time to see Joel standing by the entrance to the kitchen, lingering. His hands are in his jean pockets, standing like a chastised student outside the classroom.

"I brought some," you inform him, trying to hold in your irritation. You pull them from your bag, putting them next to the eggs. 

You feel Joel's eyes on your back and you're sure he's silently judging you, eager to point out what you're doing wrong. You stiffen under the perceived scrutiny. Ellie must sense the change in the room because she whips around to shoot him a jeering look. 

"Joel you don't need to supervise," Ellie says rolling her eyes. "We won't break the damn stove." 

Joel looks at his feet mumbling something about needing to do stuff upstairs anyway before he's making his way out of the kitchen. 

You go back to your lesson with Ellie who turns out to be a very focused student. 

She asks smart questions, measures everything perfectly and takes her time. It's only when you put her in charge of cracking three eggs into the bowl that she gets frustrated. 

"Fuck, it cracked wrong. Shell got in."

Her fingers pinch into the egg bowl, trying to grasp the fallen eggshell. Of course the viscous nature of the raw egg makes it impossible and it’s not long before she pushes at the bowl angrily, her face is set into a deep frown.

“S’fucking bullshit.”

"Happens all the time," you tell her kindly. "Don't stress about it. I’ll show you a secret my mom taught me and my sister to get ‘em out."

Ellie watches as you take the empty shell half still in her hand. Her brows knit in confusion as you lower it into the bowl, using it as a scoop. Unlike with her fingers, the egg shell piece floats easily into the makeshift scoop. You pull the shell from the bowl, tossing the mess into the garbage.

“Holy shit that actually worked.” Ellie smiles at this and it transforms her pale pinched features into that of a warm, approachable teenager. 

You smile, feeling strangely proud. You’ve never baked with anyone else before, aside from the kitchen. But that was following the same boring recipes given by the head chef. You were usually boiling rice, cutting onions or apples. Baking is a different beast, a calmer, more relaxing one.  

After that hiccup Ellie is more patient with herself. She's keen to learn about baking but she's very eager to talk to you about you. When you pop the formed pastries into the oven and set the timer she decides that now is the time to chat. 

"What kind of music did you used to listen to before?"

Memories of Joel’s warning float in your mind. The reminder not to tell her too much. To make her long for a life that he can’t give her.

"Enough about me,” you deflect. “I want to know about you."

At this Ellie balks slightly, the smile wavering just a fraction before the mask is replaced and she nods. Her mixing increases but now her eyes are on the batter.

"Whadda you wanna know?"

"What was your life like before Jackson?"

"I was in the QZ back in Boston,” she says slowly, as if she's trying to make sure she doesn't give too much away. "Hated it."

"Parents?"

"Never met 'em."

"What brought you to Jackson City?"

"Joel."

She doesn't offer you more or less than that. You understand it, you don't push it.

"How'd you end up here?" She asks, mixing the dry ingredients.  

You realize the stupidity of you asking her those questions. How easily you opened them to be doubled back on yourself. 

"You asked me what kind of music I listened to before?" You smile, hoping that this will distract her. "I remember I saw Chicago about a billion times," you laugh. "I was obsessed. I listened to the soundtrack over and over."

"Chicago," Ellie says slowly as if trying to recall before a light seems to go on. "Oh, I've heard of Chicago. Joel likes ‘em."

Them?

It takes you a minute to understand what she's talking about. You finally answer giggling. 

"Chicago the musical, not the band. The musical had great songs. And dancing." 

"Do you dance?"

"Not very well." 

Your dual laughter combines and you can't help but enjoy the sound. Ellie really does make you laugh. She reminds you of how life was before. When everything seemed new. 

You can tell Ellie wants to know everything about your life before the outbreak. And you want to indulge her but Joel's words rub their imprint on your the inside of your skull.

"Hey I promised your D- Joel that I wouldn't keep talking about this stuff with you," you explain quietly. "He's worried it makes you want stuff you can't have."

"Jesus," Ellie says rolling her eyes. “Overprotective much?” 

"No he's right," you insist truthfully. "I mean, I get where he's coming from. He doesn't wanna keep disappointing you."

"Joel could never disappoint me."

The timer goes off and you peer into the oven. The pastries are a golden brown. You smile before taking them out with the oven mitt. Ellie closes her eyes, inhaling.

"They smell so good."

"Just wait until you put icing on them," you encourage with a grin. "Delicious." 

The two of you get to work making the icing while the pastries cool. 

"It's gonna snow," Ellie comments out of nowhere as she peers out the window, mixing idly. 

"Hate to break it to you, El, it's already snowing."

Ellie gives you a smirk along with her side eye. You don't know if it's from your sarcastic comment or the fact that you called her El. 

"I mean I think it’s gonna snow a lot." She explains. "I heard some of the other kids talking about it at school."

"Huh," you offer noncommittal as you look at the consistency of the icing. "Wonder how they can tell."

"They said they could smell it," Ellie says with a grin, pushing up the sleeve of her shirt so that it doesn't drip into the icing bowl. "They said tha-"

You can't hear anything she's saying after that. All you can focus on is her now bared arm and the ugly bite mark. Blood rushes in your ears and you cry out before giving a blood curdling shriek. 

“No!”

Ellie jumps, startled at your sudden screams. She throws herself back against the wall, eyes wide and glancing around as if she expects hordes of infected to come streaming in. 

"What? What is it?"

You know she's never seen you be loud, never seen you scream and the sight must terrify her. 

But all you can focus on is the clear outline of bite marks on her forearm visible after she rolled up her sleeves. The clear sign of an infected’s mark. She’s going to turn into a clicker before your eyes. She’s going to become soulless and inhuman and you need to go. You need to get somewhere safe.

Joel. He’ll be so devastated.

You can hear the heavy footsteps of Joel approaching the kitchen but all you can think of is escaping and getting yourself safe. You have to warn the town. You run towards the front door, your socks slipping over the smooth floor. 

You're still screaming incoherently, your voice cracking as you lunge for the doorknob, tears in your eyes. Your hand closes around the brass knob just as two muscled arms go around your waist, pulling you back harshly. A hand covers your mouth and a deep voice is at your ear. 

"Quit," he repeats, shaking you slightly in his arms. "Stop screamin'."

There's an increasingly paranoid thought that believes this was all a trap. A way for Joel to get his daughter fed. You feel it, Joel's arms wrapped around your entire body, pinning your arms to your sides. His body is warm and solid behind you, terrifying in its strength. It takes you to a time you've tried to forget. 

"Get the fuck off of me!" You shriek against his palm, trying to wriggle out of his grip but he holds firm. You're screaming expletives, trying to kick out. You shake his hand off your mouth. "She's bit, Joel! I saw it!"

Ellie hasn't moved from where she stands cowering in the corner of the kitchen. But you can only imagine how soon it will be before she turns. You can't be here for that. You can’t watch that sweet girl turn into one of them.

"I know," Joel rumbles against your temple, hands still gripping you tightly. 

"You know," you repeat and now a dread begins in your feet and floods the rest of you. 

Joel knows she is bit. Joel welcomed you into his home knowing she was bit. 

You are going to die. 

"Let me go!"

High on fearful adrenaline you give a frantic kick backwards, elbowing into Joel's abdomen at the same time you thrust the ball of your foot onto his socked toes. Joel gives a strangled grunt and his arms loosen in pain momentarily allowing you a chance to break free from him. 

You tug open the door and speed out without your boots. You feel the snow on the porch under your feet, freezing your toes immediately. You throw yourself down the porch stairs, feet slapping the wood as you hold back sobs. The street is deserted; the houses all empty as they usually are on bright Saturday afternoons. You go to cry out for someone, anyone, when Joel's arm bands around your waist.

You give a devastated howl of defeat before Joel is dragging your struggling frame back into the house, telling you to calm down. 

Ellie is by the sink, her eyes on the ground. 

But you still struggle, trying to get away from this house. Joel gives a frustrated growl before he pushes you up against the wall, pinning you there with his hips. His hands hold your wrists on either side of your head, pressing them into the wall. 

"Stop fuckin' strugglin'," Joel seethes when you jerk against him, his chest pressing you so tightly to the wall you can't breathe. 

"Please let me go," you beg brokenly as you continue to struggle in his arms. "Please I just-“

"She's immune," he rasps in your ear. "She's fucking immune! Stop!"

Immune. Immune. 

"What?" You stop your screaming just long enough to twist your head to face him. "Immune? That's not possible." 

But you’ve stopped struggling as hard.

You take a closer look at Ellie’s arm from where you stand, noticing that it doesn’t look particularly fresh. In fact it looks scarred. And yet something in you is still terrified. So terrified that you yelp when you feel Joel's wide hands go to either side of your face, forcing your face up and eyes to his. 

"Everything is okay," Joel tells you in a husky rasp. "You're safe, I promise. I've got you. You're safe." 

His eyes are locked with yours as he says this and you don't know how those words work their way into your body, but they do. The same way they wind around you as you allow yourself to get lost on patrols with your mouth on him. That sense that someone else is in charge, someone else is protecting you.

You're safe.

Your entire frame goes boneless in his arms and when he finally releases your face your head drops to your chest. He continues to press you gently against the wall with one heavy hand holding you there.

"What if it's slow acting or -" you whisper quietly, "or what if you can still pass it on with saliva or-"

"The dogs don't detect it," Joel tells you, his hold on you not lessening. "Ellie and I've shared drinks plenty a' times. She's immune."

You stare at the girl at the table, her entire countenance shifted. You can see the devastation, the fear and anger floods out of you immediately, like a deep sigh. You sag in Joel's arms, feeling as he slowly loosens you. 

"She's had it for months," Joel tells you, no longer pinning you to the wall. 

"Months?" 

You're still stunned by the developments but it doesn't stop your eyes from traveling over to Ellie. You see now that tears are slipping off the end of her nose as she silently cries. She’s pulled her sleeve back down, covering the scar.

Your heart immediately breaks because it's you who did this to her. This girl who trusts so few. You treated her like she was a monster. 

"Ellie I'm sorry, I just..." You trail off, your heart still beating wildly. 

But Ellie has tears in her eyes, her neck blotchy. She's raced to the garage, slamming the door after her. You flinch at the sound of it. 

Then it’s just you and Joel in the quiet kitchen.

"How long have you known?"

"Since I met her," Joel explains quietly. "Was bringing her to the fireflies with a friend in exchange for a battery. Rumor was there was a cure."

"Guess not if you're both here," you say absently, missing the pain in his dark eyes when you say it. 

"Not a lot of people know about it. We'd like to keep it that way."

You nod, your mind whirring. You realize you've never seen Ellie in anything but long sleeves. Never seen her wearing bracelets or anything that would draw her attention to her arms. She’s been hiding in plain sight. You think of the friendships she hasn’t made, the way she keeps to herself, the hostile way she is with most and it all clicks into place.

"We were thinking of gettin' her a tattoo to cover it up,” Joel continues. “Haven't found anyone to do it yet." 

You nod again, eyes falling on the pastries now lying squashed on the floor, the warm berries oozing out onto the wood.

“I’ll take care of this stuff,” Joel mutters, dropping to his knees and starting to pick up the supplies you brought. You think of how excited Ellie had been to recreate the pop tarts, how devastated she’ll be when she realizes they’re all ruined.

"I- I think I should go talk to Ellie."

"She doesn't wanna talk. Trust me."

"Just lemme try."

Joel looks as if he's about to protest but you're already walking quickly until you've reached the door to the garage. You knock gently.

"Ellie? It's me. Please don't be upset ... I was just startled."

There's a pause, then a sniffle that makes your heart lurch. 

"Can we talk? Please, Ellie?" 

You hear shuffling and then finally the door to the garage is opened a crack and you see Ellie peering through. Her eyes are swollen and red, the end of her nose pink. She glares at you through the small slit in the door. 

"Fuck off."

"I just want to explain. Just let me explain and then I promise I'll leave."

She doesn't move, doesn't attempt to close or open the door. She just stands there like some sentry. 

“Five minutes. That’s all I need.”

"You think I'm a freak."

"I don't," you insist, palm on the door as if you could transfer your emotions by osmosis to her. "Ellie I was having fun right before all this. I really was. Can we talk? Please? I want to explain properly." 

Ellie’s glossy eyes scan your body and with a labored sigh she steps back, opening the door and allowing you entrance. 

"Come in."

You follow her into the warm space, watching as she drops onto her made bed. Ellie hugs her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as you look at her. Ellie's eyes drag from the floor up to your face and you see her chin trembling as she holds in tears. 

“Can I sit?” you ask motioning to beside her on the bed. She nods, shuffling to give you room to perch there.

“I know you’re not gonna come back after this,” Ellie says, eyes wide with a quiet pleading as you look over at her.

“Of course I am.”

“No you’re not,” Ellie says shaking her head and rubbing angrily at her eyes. “You’ve seen my arm. You think I’m a fucking freak.”

"Ellie I swear I don't think you're a freak," you emphasize as you shuffle on the edge of her bed. "I was just... That bite took me back to a really scary time."

"Yeah," Ellie says with her chin balanced on her kneecap. "No one wants to think about... All that stuff." 

You see the desolation there in her eyes. She's hurt and even though you didn't mean to do it you did. You feel responsible for her sadness. Your eyes go to her closed door, wanting to make sure you have privacy before you turn back to her.

"Ellie, can I share some stuff with you?"

"Yeah.”

"It's not happy stuff," you tell her. 

"Figured." Ellie shrugs again like it doesn't matter. Like she's seen it all. Maybe she has, but you doubt it. She doesn’t make eye contact with you.

“It’s just. . . I’ve never told anyone this stuff before. Ever.”

Ellie’s eyes go to your face now. She can see how serious you are and she straightens slightly. She goes from being hunched and holding her legs to sitting cross legged across from you on the bed.

"Okay..." You take a sharp inhale. “So, I was about your age when Outbreak Day happened. I was with my Dad and my sister. My mom was visiting my Aunt in Wyoming-“

“How come?”

“Ellie you gotta let me get this all out quick okay?” you say gently. “No interruptions.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you breathe deeply again. “She was visiting my aunt because my aunt was getting a divorce and my mom wanted to support her. Anyway, about ten years ago my dad and my little sister and I were travelling between QZ’s. We were looking for my Mom because my Dad was convinced she was still alive and she’d be out in this direction.”

You swallow; hating talking about this but knowing that Ellie deserves this truth. So far she looks intrigued, her eyes wide.

“So one night we were exhausted. We’d been travelling for days and we were low on food and water. We see this old cabin and it looks like it’s abandoned. We figure it’s a good spot to hunker down and get some energy before we keep going.” You exhale a shuddering breath.

“Except it wasn’t abandoned. It was a trap set up by this group of Raiders. I called them The Group. They killed my dad and they were gonna kill me and my sister when one of the guys had the bright idea that they could use us as bait.”

"Bait?"

 Ellie seems to remember she’s not supposed to say anything because she ducks her head slightly.

"Yeah. they made us go into new places first," you explain detached, as if you’re talking about another woman in another life. "So if there was anything dangerous it would get us in enough time to give The Group a chance to escape.”

Ellie is staring at you wide-eyed, all her teenage ambivalence lost as you detail the most terrifying years of your life. You omit lots of the more gruesome details and you definitely don’t tell her about Rock River.  

"Once they hung me from a tree," you tell her, trying not to sound emotional. It's not hard. Years of hiding how that part of your life affects you makes you good at it. "They tied me to a rope and hung me on a branch to attract clickers."

"Jesus."

"Yeah," you nod. "It worked really well. There was a big group and they piled underneath me, trying to grab at me, their mouths all black and their teeth gnashing and...” you stop yourself when you see Ellie’s eyes widening. “Anyway, The Group got ‘em all and managed to get some good supplies in the town because of it. I just... It just left me kind of..."

You wince when you realize you’ve trailed off, your focus blurred.

"The point is that when I saw your arm it just all came flooding back and I reacted out of instinct. Not because I think you're a freak. I could never think that about you.”

Ellie is quiet, digesting all that you've told her. You think you hear a creaking outside her door, but you're not sure. Your attention is drawn back to the girl who’s eyes hold such a myriad of emotions; pain, empathy, fear, anger.

"How did you end up here?" 

You think about not telling her. But it feels so good to be getting some of this information out, like you’re coughing up a thick black piece of flesh that’s been festering in your lungs for years, making it so you can now finally breathe.

"One guy, Chiyo, he joined up with our group a few years after I was taken. He owned a shooting range before everything.... You know…. Well, he'd broken his ankle in a recent raid and couldn’t really move much. If we hadn't come upon him when we did he probably would have been killed by another group of raiders. But as it was he had this giant stash of weapons and The Groups ranks were thinning so..."

You trail off, thinking of how you'd come upon him first when you and The Group got to town. How the leader you thought of as Red due to his hair (you never learned their real names), shoved you brutally by the shoulder.

Always the bait.

But after what had happened only the week before you didn’t care anymore. Red pushed you and you entered willingly, your feet not even dragging as you walked. It was either be shot by one of The Group attempting to escape, or see what resided inside the shop with the boarded up windows.

Chiyo’s gun was trained on you the second you walked in. The way you held your hands at your eye level when he told you he was going to shoot.

“I’m gonna blow your head clean off if you take another step.”

And suddenly you’d decided that you were done. You were so tired. And at least this way it would be quick and it would be away from The Group. And so you’d taken another step towards Chiyo, hands still raised.

You can still recall the furrowing of his thick brows and the lowering of his weapon as he stared at you.

"You want to die?"

You hadn't answered him but that had been answer enough for Chiyo. He'd hobbled over to you, dragging his lame leg, dark eyes fixed on your face. 

"I'm not gonna hurt you."

And when he'd said it, you'd believed him.

You remember the way you'd convinced the rest of The Group they needed someone like him. A crack shot, you told them. You'd had no idea of knowing if it was true. But there had been warmth in Chiyo's eyes that was missing from the rest of The Groups. Something that you clinged to in the coming months.

"Thankfully he was a really good shot,” you explain. “He joined up and we stripped his shop of his guns and eventually his ankle healed thanks to the medic in The Group and he was suddenly part of the team.”

“Was he nice to you?”

“Yeah. He was really kind. Whenever they used me as bait he insisted on going with. He said it was so we could save me for really bad missions, but I knew it was to protect me. They let him get away with it because he was such a good shot, I think.  Everyone liked him. When the rest of The Group was asleep we'd talk by the fire. Chiyo was afraid of horses," you tell Ellie with a small smile. “Was about the only thing he was afraid of.”

You don't tell her everything. You don't tell of the tender way he fucked you in the wee hours of the morning before The Group rose most mornings. How he whispered that he missed his dead wife and would never dishonor her memory by kissing you. But you hadn’t minded, you understood and you’d both been gentle with each other.

You’d enjoyed getting lost in the sensation of him. Of his cock in your mouth, of your cunt stuffed full of him. The rhythmic sensation of sex that took you out of your body and away from your every day horrors.

You remember how he would hold you, tears sliding onto your collar as he spilled himself onto your belly whimpering his dead wife’s name. How he would thank you over and over with your hand at the base of his skull, mouth against his shoulder while you quietly sobbed your own gratitude.

"After a few months he told me he was escaping. He'd heard about Jackson City and that's where he was headed. He wanted to bring me to see if we could find my Mom."

"Holy shit,” Ellie breathes. “Where is he now?"

"He didn't make it," you tell her tightly.

And now the shield is back in your voice and eyes and she must sense it. Ellie doesn’t press this, seems to understand that there is more there. With a teenagers’ sensibilities and a teenager’s romanticism she asks you her next question.

"Were you in love with him?"

Chiyo is a faint memory, a watercolor blur if you think about him in too much detail. When you try to recall things like the scar over his left eyebrow or the dragon tattoo on his inner thigh. But these are just pieces of him. They aren't him. 

When you think of Chiyo there is a warmth. But it's the warmth that comes from having a benevolent savior. One who never told you that you were in his debt. Yes, you cared for him. Of course you did. He was gentle and he was kind and his heart was soft.

"No," you say firmly. "He was nice though and I cared about him. Probably as close to love as I'll ever get." 

You and Ellie are quiet for a long time.

“I tried saving a bit boy once,” she finally offers. “His name was Sam. Tried rubbing my blood on him. Thought it would save him. It didn’t. He turned and his brother had to kill him before he killed himself.”

You don’t allow yourself to cry. You know that isn’t what Ellie needs right now.

“I’m the reason so many people are dead,” Ellie explains when you say nothing in return. “My Mom died having me. Riley… Tess… Sam…Henry... Ellie’s voice is doing that same detached thing yours does. “Sometimes I honestly think it would be better if I was never born.”

You can’t help the way your arms leap out in front of you to gather the girl into your arms. She tries to fight you on it, flinching from the contact before your unrelenting arms pull her into a tight squeeze, tugging her into your lap. Angry tears slip down her red cheeks, her cries breaking free as you wrestle her into a bear hug.

“I’m so glad you exist, Ellie.”

And then all the fight is gone from her body and she’s sobbing quietly into your shoulder, her tiny frame shaking. You hold her against you, wanting your adoration and affection to move through your body into hers so she knows how much she’s wanted.

“The world would be so much worse without you in it,” you assure her honestly. “You’re special, Ellie. And not because you’re immune. Because you’re smart and brave and funny and you make people like me feel like we’re worth something.”

Her arms wrap around your neck, face in your shoulder and she allows you to continue holding her, rocking her gently in your lap as if she were your own teenage daughter.

“And yes you’re stubborn and you can be annoying,” you add, trying to lighten the mood. “But there’s no one I like talking to as much as I like talking to you. You made me look forward to breakfasts in the dining hall because it meant I got to speak to you.”

“You’re just saying that,” she sniffles, arms loosely circling your neck.

“You don’t like liars, right?” You remind her. “Well I’m not lying. Plus, I know Joel loves you and he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that loves many people so you must be pretty great.”

Ellie gives a shallow huff of amusement in your shoulder.

“And I know Maria and Tommy adore you just as much if not more than I do. And if you opened up a little more with the kids around here I know they’d love you just as much as we do because you’re a wonderful person. The world would be so much worse without your light, Ellie. You bring light to the darkness.”

You continue rocking her for several moments, waiting until her sobs turn into hiccups and then gentle swallows. Finally she pulls back from you, almost embarrassed at the emotional display. She shuffles back onto the bed, picking at the loose string hanging from her pillow.

“I think I’m cursed.”

“Hey now that’s not true,” you insist. “I’m here aren’t I? How is that a curse? If anything it’s a blessing.”

She gives you a weak smile that you return.

“C’mon, let’s go and finish the pop tarts.”

“We’ll have to start all over again,” Ellie almost whines.

“Then I guess I’ll be staying here a little longer.”

Ellie wipes at her blotchy face, running her hands down her cheeks before nodding and standing abruptly.  You two make it back into the kitchen, surprised to see Joel standing there. His broad shoulders ripple as he works on something in front of him, his back to you.

Ellie sails over to him, her eyes wide when she sees what he’s done. “Wait are those the pop tarts?”

“Yep.”

“I thought they were ruined.”

“Yours were,” Joel shrugs, spreading icing onto one of the homemade pop tarts. “Mine went okay.”

You feel as if you’ve been physically pushed.

Joel baked?

Ellie snags one of the still warm pastries from the plate as Joel starts running the cloth over the counter and wiping the crumbs into the sink. You look at the joy on Ellie’s face as she takes a bite.

“Holy shit, Joel, these are so fucking good.”

“Language,” Joel admonishes over his shoulder, though there’s nothing harsh in it. He turns around, hip resting against the counter.

“I’m gonna have you do all my baking,” Ellie continues as if she hasn’t heard him.  “I’ll just be your taste tester.”

You want to grin at this but all you can do is stare at Joel and the soft way he’s smiling down at Ellie. This open look of adoration you so rarely see. Like there’s this secret Joel inside the mean Joel shell that the privileged few witness.

Joel could never disappoint me.

Joel seems to feel your eyes on him because he blinks over at you, dark eyes darting around your face. His expression is unreadable, but there’s nothing cruel or cold in it. He’s just looking at you, almost as if he’s trying to figure you out as well.  

“Well looks like we’re all set here so I should go,” you start awkwardly, suddenly feeling strangely light headed. Joel steps towards you, brows rising.

“You could stay for a dr-“ Joel begins, but you’ve already made your way to the front door, pulling on your boots and jacket.

Your hands are trembling for some reason and you think it must be all this emotional turmoil you’ve shared with Ellie. It has you feeling vulnerable and exposed and you want to escape home to the safety of your bed, away from soulful brown eyes and soft smiles.

“Ellie you wanna grab breakfast before patrols?”  you ask, studiously ignoring Joel who stands next to her looking at you. You don’t want her to think you’re rushing off and forgetting about her.

“Sure,” Ellie says brightly before motioning to the plate of pastries. “You want any of these to go?”

“Nah, you enjoy them,” you insist with a flash of a smile. “You worked hard.”

You don’t look backwards as you rush out the door of their home and down the sidewalk of Rancher Street, convinced you can feel Joel’s dark gaze on you the entire way.

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

secondary a/n: The other parts I wanted to include in this chapter were gonna bloat this installment into over 10k and I wasn't even finished so I had to break it up!

CHAPTER 11 SPOILERS BELOW THE JOEL

in chapter eleven there be smut.

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[syrupfog]

The thing about Zoro— is that he’s lost. 

What he doesn’t tell his crew is that he hasn’t always been lost. 

He remembers being a kid, remembers running after Kuina every chance he had. He was ALWAYS able to track her down, always able to find her when no one else was.

He knew the land around the dojo like the back of his hand. He HAD to, since in the beginning he was sleeping in the underbrush outside and pretending to come from the edge of the village for practice every day. 

The thing is, is he doesn’t know exactly when it changed.

It was sometime after be became a pirate hunter, he knows that. But timelines get tricky when he’s not sure if he was getting lost with Johnny and Yosaku because they were in a new land together, or if he was getting lost FROM them, outside of his control.

He doesn’t like to dwell on such things, things he clearly can’t change. During really lost moments he’s considered asking Chopper if it’s some sort of sickness, some brain problem, but then he steadies himself and pushes that thought down.

If he’s sick he’s sick, and if Chopper thought it was curable he would have already cured it. 

Robin mentioned once that she wondered if maybe the curse of his sword has something to do with it, and if that’s the case, then it doesn’t matter. He’s not getting rid of any of them.

His swords are as important to him as breathing. He would be nothing without them.

Still, sometimes, as he takes the third wrong turn in as many minutes, lost to the trees around him, his thoughts turn sour as he thinks back to Kuina.

Kuina, who he could, without fail, instinctually find. Kuina, who always gave him an exasperated look when he popped up demanding a rematch.

He never questioned it, at the time, his ability to locate her. It wasn’t a marvelous ability, it was just what needed to be done.

And now, no matter how hard he tries, the frustration gets to him as he realises his crew is out of reach. Not because they’re dead, not because they’ve been kidnapped, but just because he is fundamentally incapable of locating them. 

All these trees look the fucking same.

And he wonders what good he is, a first mate who can’t even find his crew. He wonders (not that he would ever voice these thoughts) if they see him as lesser— not in the joking way they tell him off for getting lost, but in a real, true, instinctual way.

Is he unreliable? Is he failing them? 

He growls and unsheathes Wado, letting loose a strike that chops down about twenty trees in front of him but leads only to more forest. 

Kuina had needed him and he hadn’t been there. What happens when he’s not there for his own crew?

They’re capable, but so had Kuina been. 

If Kuina had been lost, Zoro could have found her. He’s sure of it. But if his crew now were to get lost, he’d be useless to find them. 

Useless like he is right now, wandering in fucking circles while his thoughts follow the same spiral.

He knows his thoughts are getting too sour, knows he needs to center himself, so, with a growl of frustration, he plops himself down on the forest floor, cross legged, and starts to meditate. 

It takes longer to clear his mind when he’s agitated, but he breathes deep.

His crew is strong, he tells himself. They can survive without him, if needs be. If he never finds them again, they will still be safe. If it takes him three islands to find them, he will manage. 

He’s reached a place of neutrality in his mind, assurances repeating, when—

“Mosshead, are you ready to come home yet?” 

Zoro opens his eyes. 

Sanji is there. 

He’s got a cigarette in his mouth and hands on his hips, looking down at Zoro with an expression that Zoro wouldn’t SAY is fond exasperation, but he might think it.

“What are you doing out here, Cook?” Zoro asks, wary. Is there a harem in the woods he doesn’t know about? 

Sanji snorts. “Finding you, of course,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Finding… Zoro. 

“Huh,” says Zoro.

He rises to his feet and Sanji pivots ninety degrees. “Come on,” he says. “We’re about forty minutes from the Sunny, and dinner’s going to be late at this rate.” 

He reaches back, blindly, and grabs Zoro’s wrist, pulling him forward.

Zoro looks down at his wrist as he walks, then up at Sanji. “How’d you know where I was?” He asks. 

Sanji’s not looking at him, but the smoke from his cigarette blows back in Zoro’s face. “Stupid,” he says. “I always know where you are. Your green hair is like a beacon.”

‘I always know where you are’. 

Zoro stumbles, just a little, just for a moment. 

He thinks of Kuina. Of finding Kuina. 

The hand around his wrist feels like fire. 

Zoro had… forgotten… that someone could find HIM, too.

[deafsignifcantother]

the baby

♥ summary: almost loosely based off of this by @ukor02. I made Alastor a main character and her main bestie because of course I did. This is really just a small little writing thing I did at 4am. ♥ relationship: no direct romance really, just some cute stuff between Lucifer and reader. ♥ word count: 1.6 ♥ notes: no childbirth mentioning and this is written like just as summaries of the situation tbh. almost like a bullet point format without the bullet points

You wanted to give your baby a chance to get into Heaven, even if it meant they'd leave without you. Hell is no place for a child. Both you and Charlie knew that.

.

"What a pleasant surprise," you sign to Alastor when you see that damn smiling demon right outside your hotel room.

He laughs; aw, you're describing his arrival as pleasant. Did he make a good impression on you when you saw him last when he introduced himself in person in Pride Sign Language? You never seemed to have paid any mind to him, giving one motion signs as responses whenever he tried starting a conversation. But even when you interacted with him like that, he couldn't help but wonder why you always looked at him with your sweet, shy gaze. It's not on purpose, which is the worst part.

Pleasant, you called it a pleasant surprise.

"It's good to see you too, my dear!" He signs, bowing a bit and pushing past you into your room. "What have you been up to?"

What an obnoxious question.

You close the door, squeezing the doorknob tightly. This is going to be a long evening. When you turn back to Alastor, he's in your living room examining the decor, your random art pieces taped to the walls and organized together, though not concisely.

He waves his hands. "I love what you've done with the place."

"I've been bored." You sign with a slight nod to yourself. It's awfully isolating, which is obvious. Still, it has never hit you as hard as it does now as you watch another person walk through your chambers.

"I'm glad I can be in your company then." His smile widens, and the static he emits gets heavier. His ear twitched a bit, which you noticed but tried not to directly look at. Was it a good or bad thing?

"But it's often relieving to be alone," you start and look him up and down.

"You're quite used to being alone, aren't you?"

Your lips tighten, your hands stiff, and you are unable to finish your sentence. Absentmindedly, you rest them on your plump, pregnant belly. Alastor does his best not to let his eyes draw down to analyze it. Still, his head tilts, even just a little. He hates looking at your hands when you touch your stomach. Did his mother hold her belly like that when he was inside of hers?

"Don't you have others to talk to?"

"They're out on their little journeys, you know them."

"Of course."

Alas, he lets his eyes trail down to your stomach. It's not quite full, but it's obvious enough to gain attention from others. Charlie will put her hands on it every day, waiting for the baby to show its presence. She can feel the heartbeat, and so can you and Vaggie, though everybody else can't feel a thing. Alastor refuses to put a hand on your stomach. Life is precious and loud, and the few who were never human understand that differently than the others.

"I wanted to check in on the baby."

A twitch of your eyebrow makes his smile widen.

"Why?"

.

The day before, Lucifer arrived.

You try on your best clothes, laying them flat against your front, looking at your belly in the mirror. For the king, should you try to hide it or show it proudly? He has a daughter, but does that affect his thoughts about Hellborn pregnancies? Gosh, what do you have to worry about? So stupid.

With the other people, your new friends, you stood with your head proud.

He swirled with the dragons and hugged his daughter as if he hadn't seen her for years. What a kind man, unusually kind. His eyes... Those soft, precious eyes. And when they landed on you, your heart almost stopped. He looked at you as if you were an angel. When his lips started to move, the smile you didn't even know you wore faded.

Charlie put her hand on his shoulder and whispered something to him. And there came Alastor, saving the day.

"The idiotic king was just telling you how happy he is for you." With the signs came the grinding of his teeth.

Lucifer approached, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. He addressed Alastor with aggressive hesitance. 'Tell her...' he said.

Charlie smiled excitedly, Nifty kept nodding, and Sir Pentious's eyes started tearing up.

Alastor grimaced. "He's asking if he could feel your stomach."

As always, you've put a thorn in the flow of interactions.

Still, you put on a smile. "Of course."

And there you stood, the King of Hell's hands gently holding you. You could feel the cold of his touch even through the fabric of your shirt. The heartbeat vibrated through both your body and his. The baby was alive and well; you could tell through the pure glee that spread across his face. Beyond your tiny ounce of worry, you knew he'd find hope within your baby.

Alastor watched with a terribly strained smile.

.

"Why?" You ask again when he doesn't answer. "What's with the sudden worry?"

"Worry? No, no." Alastor waves you off. "More like..."

You watch with interest as he trails off, a vulnerability you love.

He squints his eyes and clenches his fists, but only for a moment. His lack of vocabulary kills him. "...Intrigue."

You crack a smirk. "Are you finally gonna feel my stomach?"

Another pause. Alastor considers it, but all he can imagine is his claws accidentally drawing blood.

"No."

"That's okay." Again, your hands rest on your stomach.

.

Alastor has been watching it grow, but so has Lucifer. Charlie's father scarcely visits, and you've convinced yourself it's to see you. Every time he enters the hotel, he asks how you are. He tries to lift his hands to sign but finds no words forming. A language was created in his world, and he has yet to learn how to learn it.

Whenever he presses his hands against your belly, he can feel the liveliness of the soul forming inside you, and he can feel your appreciation at his care.

Begrudgingly, he always has to ask Alastor for advice on communicating with you. Alastor always has a cocky smirk when he teaches.

Charlie has to ask Alastor for help, too, but more willingly. Alastor raises his chin and squares shoulders when people ask him for help. Charlie went to him for help on a conversation you knew she was going to start with you:

"You're not going to stay here for the battle."

"I know." There was no argument on your behalf. Charlie's cheeks still went pink.

"But I have to figure out where it's safest for you. Alastor told me Cannibal Town, but uhh... Maybe not."

"They'll all be here anyway. Maybe they'll distract the angels from going over there."

Her bright eyes widen a bit. "Do you think so?"

"I can stay over there, even if they try to eat me." They won't, and even if they try, they know Alastor would end their lives, don't they?

She fiddles with her fingers before lifting them up again. "I suppose..."

She's so quickly convinced it's cute. You're right, though, of course. Cannibal Town might be the safest place, specifically under the hands of Rosie, who Alastor had previously told you would be more than willing to help you. You can imagine her smile at seeing your belly, twice the size as when Alastor first told you about her. Unbeknownst to Charlie, he's been planning this for a while.

Your stress for their safety irks you more than you expected.

You place a hand on Charlie's, lifting your other one. "I'll be okay."

Before you left for Cannibal Town, you met Lucifer once again, a more loving side of him. He cradled your head and held the back of your neck as he did. His cold body felt like warmth to you. He whispered things to you; you could only tell from how his breath constantly brushed against your ear in sing-songy waves. Was he singing to you? A lullaby? He pulled away and finally signed to you. "You're going to be a great mom."

A moment before, Alastor finally put his hands on your belly. His hands were warm. Like Lucifer, he was whispering to himself, holding silent words from you. In another life, you'd imagine they were prayers. At that moment, only an instinct, you put your hands on his, and he allowed it.

The stress of their safety worsened when they were left alone in Cannibal Town without a word of winning or losing.

The winning of Hell was all you wanted to focus on when you noticed the contractions getting worse, spaced out in purposeful ways. Oh goodness, you found yourself thinking, oh my God.

What if Lucifer dies on the same day your child is born?

But after the battle, he was right there to cradle the baby in his arms, his heavenly grasp relaxing the tiny baby. The rest of the group sat in your room, Sir Pentious absent, tears in their eyes at both the birth and the death.

Beyond Lucifer's cradling, Husk was the only one who touched your child that day. He placed his furry paw against the baby, feeling the body heat that they admitted. Life could be beautiful, he decided.

Vaggie's sense of revenge deepened. She sacrificed Heaven to save a child, and now she's even more than willing to kill her sisters to save yours.

While Charlie stares at your baby with tears, Alastor smiles warmly at you. He knew you could do it: birth something beautiful and worth protecting.

Your eyes are locked on Lucifer. He's an amazing, supportive dad to Charlie, and your heart begins to swell. Your heartbeat increases, and a blush weakly forms on your already flushed face. His rough hands hold a forgiving softness. He's beautiful.