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rainylana · 2 days

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“It’s just a cut.” Part three!

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

warnings: physical abuse, mentions of injuries and wounds, emotional turmoil, angst and lots of tears, readers mother is in jail, language, hospitals, reader and eddie are at heavy odds, mentions of betrayal and broken trust. let me know if i missed anything! original request by @h-ness1944

note: i hope everyone is doing okay! enjoy this new instillation of the series, and let me know what you thought about it! this particular series seems to take a toll, so please share your thoughts! it means the world to me!!:) as of right now, this is the final chapter. the ending isn’t necessarily a cliffhanger, but it’s not exactly a solid ending, either! hope you enjoy!

You had shut the world out and everyone in it, refusing to speak or comply with anyone. You were throwing a tantrum, you knew that, but you were too heartbroken to care. Eddie had betrayed you, the one person you loved most in the world had done what you had asked not to do. You wouldn’t talk to the cops. You begged Eddie not to, begged him to keep his silence, but it was clear his feelings hadn’t changed. He couldn’t do it.

He told the cops everything. From every bruise and wound he had tended, to the aches and cracks in your heart from harsh words. Of course, the police wanted to hear it from you, but from the extent of your injuries, they knew Eddie wouldn’t have been making it up.

The tried to talk to you multiple times, so did the nurses and your surgeon. Wayne tried, Eddie begged. The kids came in, so did Robin and Steve, but it was to no avail. It felt as if the whole world knew your secret. You felt nothing but shame and embarrassment, and the worst of all, betrayed and alone.

Your dad had been notified and was on the way, but the last thing you wanted was for family drama. You wanted to rot in that bed, and if you had it your way, you surely would. It had been almost two days since you last spoke to anyone. They’d given up, but not Eddie. He was determined to make you understand. He couldn’t loose you. A life without you in was one he didn’t want to have to live.

And as far as your mom went, you felt cold and empty. You didn’t know why. You didn’t care about your injuries, you’d been hurt before. You didn’t care about the mean things she had said before she pushed you down the stairs. You simply just didn’t care anymore. You didn’t want to see her, but you wished everything could go back to the way it was, as sick as it seemed. You were too hurt, too betrayed to feel anything else. All you felt was grief, and a horrible ache in your stomach.

You were to be on bedrest for the next three weeks so your wounds could heal properly, and you couldn’t wait to get the bandage off your nose so you could breath again. You looked terrible. As the days sat in your bruises began to change shape and color, your face decorated with marks of angry purple and red shades.

The only thing that could be heard in the room was the ticking of the clock, which happened to be running five minutes slow. You could barely move, only laying flat on your back with your head turned toward the window. There were so many damn flowers everyone you felt as if you were living in a greenhouse.

Eddie had resorted to sitting outside your room. You’d made it very clear you didn’t want to see him, but he refused to leave you completely. He’d come in every now and then, asking if you needed anything, tearing up with another I’m sorry. He never got a response.

If he loved you like he said he would, he wouldn’t have betrayed you. He wouldn’t have broken your trust like he did. He wouldn’t have turned your entire world upside down and ripped out your heart. You wondered if you’d ever be able to look at him the same again.

•

“Ed, don’t you think you should go home and rest?” Wayne stood behind Eddie, watching him as he stared at stuffed animals in the gift shop of the hospital.

“I’m fine.” His voice was gruff and cold, almost matching yours the last time you spoke to him.

He was indeed, not fine, not in the slightest. He was completely pale and malnourished, hadn’t eaten in days or taken a shower. He hadn’t slept in almost five days, not properly, anyways. The heart in his chest that kept him alive was breaking second by second, and he wondered if it would completely shatter inside of him.

“Don’t start that with me.” Wayne comes up to the side of his nephew, glancing down at the teddy bear in his hands. “You’re not fine. You need sleep. I’ll stay with y/n. You go home and rest.”

“Wayne.” Eddie stressed, placing down the teddy bear, twirling around toward the exit of the shop. “Stop. Leave me alone.” He walked as quickly as he could out of the store, ignoring the have a good day from the check out lady. He walked with angry, heavy steps, so quickly that his hair bounced with each step of his boots. He could hear his uncle trailing behind him.

“I can’t leave her, Wayne.” He stopped in front of the elevator, pushing the button with a ringed finger. “If you want to go home go ahead, but I’m staying put.” The elevator opened and he was walking inside, leaning against the metal wall with crossed arms. “Are you coming or not?”

Of course, Wayne followed, not ready to give up on his son.

“You’re just as stubborn as she is, you know?” The old man said gruffly, the hot temperature of the elevator making him sweat. “You’re no good to her like that. You’re dead on your feet, boy.”

Eddie stared at the floor and ignored every word, at least tried to, and thought about you staring at the wall, the same spot that you had for the last two days. Would you ever speak to him again? Was any of this worth it? Would the two of you ever be the same? He knew the answer already, whether the two of you were together or not, nothing would be the same in your relationship. That was inevitable.

•

Your nose killed you, your face aching with the weight of your tears that had your bones throbbing with pain. Your shoulders shook with the weight of your sobs, your mouth clamped shut as to not alert anyone that you were awake. It was almost four in the morning and you’d awaken up from another bad dream. You couldn’t sleep no matter how hard you tried.

You were just so sad. You missed your mom, you’d come to that conclusion. You missed her and wanted to be home. You wanted to see your dad. You wanted to be in your own bed. But most of all, you wanted Eddie to hold you in his arms, wanted him to tell you that everything would be okay and that he loved you. You craved him more than anything.

But where did you both stand? The last thing you told him was that you’d never speak to him again, you’d threatened to break up with him. Yet he had stayed. He hadn’t left at all. Or had he? You hadn’t seen him almost all day. The thought made you sob, hoping to god that he was still outside your room.

You looked to the door, flexing your leg. You were barely able to stand with help from the nurses, you surely wouldn’t make it out there on your own. You whimpered and fell back into the bed, covering your face with your good arm, the other now in a cast, and cried brokenly.

“Y/n?”

You jumped and uncovered your face, eyes widening at the familiar face. “Wayne.” You cried, holding out your arm. You broke down into heavy tears at the sight of him as he shut the door, quickly hurrying over to you.

“Hey, hey, shh.” He sat on the bed and scooted to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you carefully into his side. “I got ya, kid. You’re okay.”

You bawled into his shirt, the comforting smell of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke brining a sense of calm over you. Your body shook in his arms, and you cried for everything in that moment, like you were mourning for the entire world.

“It’s okay, darlin. You’re okay.” His face watched etched with concern, have debating whether or not he should go get Eddie from the chapel, but he knew he’d be sound asleep. He shouldn’t leave you, he decided, holding you closer and letting you cry out everything you needed to.

“I don’t know-” Your breath hitched, fingers fisting at his shirt. “what to do.”

The weight of your sobs made it difficult to understand you completely. He kissed the top of your head, shushing you gently.

“I’m so..s-scared.” You whimpered, face burning with a broken ache. You were becoming inconsolable, hysterical with your broken heart, you didn’t even hear the door open up.

“Wayne?” Eddie’s eyes were wide at the sight of your distress, freezing him in his spot. Wayne looked from you to Eddie, knowing that it was his nephew that you really needed. He nodded him over, gently trading him spots as Eddie quickly and carefully swapped spots to hold you close.

“Shh, shh, baby, baby.” He coos, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. You’re not cold or distant, you relish the scent of him, bawling into his chest like a lost little girl. “I’m here. I’m here.”

He was so relieved to hold you, so happy that you were allowing him to comfort you. You’d probably hate him again in the morning, refuse to speak to him probably, but this, this was a step forward. He heard the click of the door shut and he was left alone with you, kissing the shell of your ear. “I’m here, baby.”

•

You were left with hiccups and an awkward silence that neither of you knew how to fill. He continued to hold you, almost two hours later. The sun was beginning to rise and you knew the nurses would be making their rounds to your room soon. You weren’t as relaxed into him as you were, now tense and unsure where to keep your arm.

He felt the same way. He rubbed his hand up your arm, trying to keep connected with you, but the awkwardness in the room continued to grow heavy, your tears having long since stopped. He didn’t know what to say and neither did you.

You couldn’t help but groan, your head killed you from your breakdown.

“What’s wrong?” He looked down at your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You said hoarsely, bringing your shaky hand up to your nose. “Just my nose. My head is killing me.”

He sat up, examining the darker shades of your face. “Do you want me to get a nurse?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m okay.” You we’re tired of them pestering you every five minutes with medicine in little plastic cups, trying to get you to use your legs, despite the fact the doctor wanted you on bedrest.

You held your face and he watched you, swallowing dryly as he tried to find words. There was so many things he wanted to say, but would you listen? He got up and walked to the window, peeking out the blinds at the sun that was beginning to rise. He stretched awkwardly, a crick in his neck that made his own head hurt, too.

You looked at his back, trying your hardest not to cry. You had the urge to apologize, but did you have anything to apologize for? Was this your fault? Eddie was clearly suffering, but so were you.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted out. Sorry for what exactly, you didn’t know. You couldn’t forgive him, could you? Could you forgive him for the way everyone was looking at you now? Could you forgive the fact that your mom was in jail?

He twirled around, eyes narrowing in confusion at your words. “For what?”

You gulped, not able to meet his eyes. “I don’t know.” I’m sorry you’re in pain. You could be sorry for that. You still loved him, after all, despite everything that happened.

“Do you hate me?” He asked, looking toward your bed. “For telling?”

It felt so back and forth. You were so sure of your feelings one minute, then completely changed the next. “I don’t hate you.” You answer honestly, voice dry and cracked. “But It’s hard to look at you.”

He nodded once briefly. He understood the feeling. It was your turn then, to look at him, finally taking in just how rough he looked. His hair was matted and greasy, desperate to be washed. He was exhausted completely. “Have you went home at all?” You ask, halfway sat up in your bed, good hand at your stitched side.

He gulped, shaking his head.

You frowned. “Eddie,” You began. “You should go home. I’m okay.”

He finally turned away from the window, standing their awkwardly in the middle of the floor. “Do you want me to go?”

No. No, you didn’t. But it wasn’t fair to make him stay just for your sake. He looked like he was going to pass out any second. He needed food and rest. “I want you to take care of yourself.” You answer. “You don’t have to stay here on my account.”

He gave you a look then. I want you to take care of yourself. He wanted the same for you, yet he was the bad guy. He furrowed his brows, licking his fry lips. “Okay.”

He made it halfway across the room before you stopped him again. “I’m sorry, Eddie.” You say, closing your eyes.

He sighs that time, becoming irritated himself. “Why, y/n? Why are you sorry? There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.”

You shake your head, nose throbbing. “I don’t- I don’t know. I just feel like I should say it, so I am.”

His hand was on the doorknob, and he rested his forehead against the door. “You don’t know what this has been like for me. I had to tell them, y/n. I understand you’re mad, but you don’t need to apologize. You have no reason to.”

Your eyes start to tear up, and you can feel the damp feeling of your bandage against your nose. “You didn’t have to.” You look to the wall again. Your safe spot. “But I know you felt like you did.”

He scoffed without humor, looking back at you like you were crazy. His eyes were matching yours with tears. “I didn’t have to? Is that some sort of joke? Do you not realize the situation you’re in? You could have died, y/n. You almost died.”

You cringed at his words and clamped a hand over your mouth. “But mom is in jail now. She’s going to go to prison.”

“Good riddance!” He couldn’t help but raise his voice, an angry tear spilling over his face. “Fuck her! I hope she rots in there! I don’t care how upset that makes you, y/n, it’s true. She’s a shit mom and deserves what she got!”

You sobbed with each word that spat, glaring at him over your fingers with a look that could kill. “That’s not true! She’s my mom, Eddie! I’m okay!”

“No, you’re not!” He marched over and pointed his finger at you. “You flew through a fuckin’ window and tore your stomach to shreds!” He took a deep breath, that soon had him releasing a sob. “Do you know how scared I was waiting for you to come out of surgery? The doctors didn’t know if you’d pull through, y/n. Do you have any idea how fucking messed up in the head I am now?” He was weeping freely, pacing across the room.

“Don’t you dare say you’re okay.” He said sternly. “Do you really care that little for yourself? Do you hate yourself so much that you don’t care for your own safety? Do you want to die that badly? Well, I won’t watch it. I won’t sit here and watch you wilt away. I can’t, baby.”

You were blubbering and carrying on, saying things that couldn’t understand. “I’m sorry.” He managed to hear through your broken sobs. “I’m so sorry, Eddie!”

You looked up at him with a bloodied nose, hot tears and snot pooling at your cupid’s bow. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you so bad, Eddie. Please, please don’t leave me!”

“Y/n,” He crumbled, going to you. “Stop apologizing, you silly girl.” No matter the fight, he would always go to you. “Aren’t you listening to me? You haven’t done anything. It’s your mother. She’s the one who’s hurt you, hurt us.”

He held your face and wiped the blood from your nose. “Please, forgive me, baby. I’m sorry. I promise, I won’t ever let you get hurt again. I’ll protect you if you let me, please let me.”

He’s kissing your hands, moving up your good arm and to your cheek. “God, I missed you, baby.”

“I love you.” You cried, gripping at his shoulder. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

I love you. He sobbed at the words. You still loved him. He said it back lovingly, muttering the words he forgave you as you said the same. Neither of you realized just how hard it would be to move forward, but that was the thing about love, it conquered above all else.

Over time, you’d come to terms about your mom. Your dad would move down to Hawkins until you graduated, where eventually you and Eddie would have your own place. The abuse you had endured would be something that would always stick with you, but Eddie was your rock at the end of the day, and he’s the one that got you through it. Love always conquered all.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson angst #eddie the brave #eddie angst #it’s just a cut

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wanderingsoul6261 · 1 day

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Believing a False Lie

Credit for gif goes to fabiolajyx

James Beaufort x Reader

Synopsis: James takes part in a nasty dare to try and get the get the nerdy and social outcast to date him. He never expected to fall in love though. When Reader hears the truth from some girls at Maxton, she wonders what is true and false, and ultimately begins to avoid James. Will the truth be told and will amends be made?

Warning: Might be some swear words. Bullying takes place. Nothing more than that. the scene with the invitation to Alistair's party is improvised. The pool scene is also improvised.

P.S I got carried away and this really long 😅 excuse any mistakes. I have a sinus headache currently stabbing my skull and I can't take anything yet because certain sinus/allergy meds can effect how well my thyroid meds work.

-----

Y/N was a quiet person. She didn't say much. She took her studies way more seriously than multiple others at Maxton Hall. Some would say that she also went above what she needed to, studying mythology and ancient civilizations. Dedicated her time to be well accustomed to not only national history, but international. If it was within her interest, it did not go unknown by her.

She didn't have many friends, but she did talk often with Ruby Bell and Lin. Y/N was a social outcast and many saw her as that. She knew it. Being quiet and on the sidelines and it was her game, in which she was playing it well. That was until a certain Beaufort stepped in.

He had been dared by Cyril, Alistair, and the others to ask her out on a date. They didn't really care how long that he dragged her along. They just wanted him to do it and then break her heart whenever he was ready.

A sick joke it was.

James was expecting that Y/N might have been smart enough not to go on a date with him, considering her nature and those that she hung out with. Ruby was pretty stubborn and didn't like many of the others that went to the school with them. So he had just about expected Y/N to be the same way.

But she wasn't. And so now the two of them had gone on a few dates, the news oh which spreading around Maxton Hall like a wildfire that was too far out of control to contain. And in the end, James was surprised. Dare he say, even shocked.

James had expected her to be just as everyone had assumed her to be. Nerdy. An outcast. But he only saw someone who was insanely smart and had more to say when you got to know her. She was herself. She didn't try to be someone she wasn't. He surprisingly enjoyed listening to her rambling of whatever topic was stuck on her mind on any given day. Y/N might not have been as beautiful as Elaine or any of the other girls within the school, but James thought that she was gorgeous, nonetheless. Her smile. Her laugh. He had become smitten with her, and every single minute he spent with her, the deeper he was digging his own grave. It was a grave he didn't want out of though.

And as the weeks drew on, his friends had consistently waited for him to dump her. In front of the entire school. But he refused to. James kept pushing and pushing it back until his friends started to tease him about actually liking her. Not that they were far from the truth.

It hurt him at first, that he never did defend her. He stayed silent, but his facial expression was neutral. Deep down he didn't like what they were saying about her. He just didn't know how to approach it. But he knew that he had fallen head over heels for her, and there was nothing he could do to stop his descent.

-----

Currently, the two sat outside the manor that Y/N called home with her parents. They rested sideways on a wooden cushioned swing, James' back against the arm of it and Y/N back against his chest. One of his arms was settled around her waist, while the other laced his fingers with her own. He watched as her other hand flew blindly throughout the air, the hand in his own sometimes joining in the fray before going back to his hand, their fingers interlocking once again.

Most people would have probably been disturbed by her insane knowledge of things that were not necessarily needed to be known. But as she sat against him, constantly having to take deep breaths as she forgot to breath during her explanation of the "The Odyssey", he could only look enamored. James watched her lips as she spoke, not really paying much attention to what was being said, a soft smile adorned his face.

"Are you listening?" James broke out of his stupor, his eyes moving from her lips to her own eyes.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"So, you weren't paying attention?" she asked.

"Oh, I was. About fifty percent of the time. I heard about Circe turning some of Odysseus' remaining men to pigs and then he technically got kidnapped, was it?" he asked, searching her face for approval. Y/N smiled, and his heart pounded. He smiled back at her. That smile was everything to him.

"Yea. She kept him for ten years. Then he was finally able to leave. Although, Poseidon still posed a threat because obviously Odysseus killed his son." And Y/N continued to ramble, and James went back to adoring her like she was the only woman on the planet. Elaine be damned. The arranged marriage wasn't anything. It wouldn't be anything. Not if he couldn't have the one currently in his arms.

James leaned his head down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, lingering for a few seconds, before pulling back. His gaze was met with a frozen Y/N, and a smug grin had adorned his face.

"While I know have your attention. I do apologize love, for interrupting your rambling, but Alistair is having a party in a few nights, if you'd like to attend with me."

"Oh, I don't know. My parents have that gala to host in a few nights and I don't know if they would want me around. I can talk to them though?" She suggested. Y/N eyes had widened slightly, growing nervous already at the thought of attending Alistair's party. She knew where she stood amongst the others at Maxton. James gave her a tiny nod, his thumb rubbing across her knuckles.

"Of course. Do what you have to. In the meantime, I should be going. Parents are expecting me home a bit early tonight."

Y/N nodded and stood up first, extending her hand to James as he followed. He looked down at their joined hands, before staring at her face, flashing her a smile as she looked up at him and flashed one back. Yea. He could get used to that.

On their way through the house, James politely bid her parents farewell, before the two walked out to the front where Percy waited for James. They came to a halt next to the vehicle, and as he turned to look at her, he bowed his head down to press his lips against hers. A soft lingering kiss in which she melted into.

"I will see you tomorrow. Let me know whenever you can if you can come to the party."

"Will do, pretty boy." Y/N flashed another smile. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, before turning around and climbing into the vehicle. James watched her in the window of the vehicle, all the way up until she was no longer visible. When he finally turned around in his seat, he caught Percy's gaze in the rearview mirror. James could only smile as he looked away. The two of them both knew he was head over heels for her.

"Not a word, Percy."

------

"James!" Y/N hurried her pace to catch up to James. He stopped briefly, turning around to look at her before he entered the main doors of Maxton, waiting for her.

"Good morning, Love." He grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"Good morning, handsome. Oh, I talked to my parents about the party. They would like my help for an hour or two. But after that, I'm free to go. They were surprised that I asked. In fact, I think they were excited." James looked down at her with a smirk.

"You're a goody two shoes."

"Apparently they're hoping for a rebellious stage." Y/N shrugged, smiling back up at James.

"I wasn't sure if you'd get back to me in time about it." James said. His hand settled on the back of her back, guiding the two of them through groups of students.

"Parents have been busy. I wasn't able to talk to them until I left for school this morning. Sorry it's such a late notice."

"No need to be sorry, just glad you can make it." He answered. They appeared outside of her first class for the day. James stared at her with soft smile, receiving one back.

"Have a good day, gorgeous. I'll see you tonight at the party." He mumbled against her lips, before backing away, flashing her a smile. Y/N smiled back, before walking into the classroom.

----

The time for the party came and for Y/N to say that she was anxious, was an understatement. She would be over dramatic and claim that she was fatally anxious about it, even if that was not such a thing.

Heads turned to look at her as she ventured through the house. She cowered slightly, meeting some gazes and avoiding others. Most actually didn't seem to care, while others had glowered at her. Trying to find James through the crowd proved to be just as difficult as she expected. Y/N released a quiet sigh.

Across the room, where Elain was trying to get his attention, James got a glimpse of her as she walked into the room. He wasn't trying to be cliché, but as he stared at her as the array of colors filled and rotated around the room, the world paused for several seconds. She and everything that she was, was his. He couldn't let that go. No matter the dare he had taken apart in. He couldn't go through with it. Now now. Not ever.

His mouth parted slightly, and his cheeks heated up in a blush.

Y/N was a sight to behold and he knew he couldn't part with her, damned what his friends and the rest of Maxton would think.

He pushed past many in the crowd, slowly making his way to her. James kept his eyes attached to her face, drinking her in and drowning in her appearance. As he drew closer to her, his heart hammered faster against his rib cage.

She was his.

James came to a stop behind her at the same time she unexpectedly took a step back. Y/N collided with his chest and she immediately turned around, scared to see who it might have been.

"James" She let out a sigh of relief.

"Hello, love. Finally made it, I see." A teasing glint in his eye.

"Yea. Sorry. My parents held me back a few extra moments to finish something for their gala. But I'm here now."

"That you are." The two stared at each other for several moments, smiles on their faces, before James motioned to the dance floor, and grabbed her hand as he walked past her, dragging her along with him.

The two started dancing, their bodies almost moving at one. The pop song playing decided their moves for them. The two didn't have much finesse between the two of them, but their moves had complemented each other. They stayed pretty close together, never moving more than a foot away from each other at a time. They were smiling and never broke eye contact unless needed. The two of them were enamored in that moment, enjoying the moment as it came to them.

And then the pop song gave way to a slow song, and they stood in the middle of the dance floor, breathing heavily as they gazed upon each other. As the slow song continued, James edged closer, his arms wrapping her waist, pulling her closer as she wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. The two of them swayed together for several seconds, before James used his hands to twirled her around, now holding her with her back against his chest. Y/N turned her head to look at him as he laced his fingers through hers. They swayed for several seconds, before the moment was cut short by Elain, who thought to "accidentally" dump her drink on Y/N.

Y/N let out a gasp as Elain said a fake apology, catching a glare from James.

Y/N watched as Elain walked away, a pep in her step, tossing a smug look over her shoulder before she was out of sight. Embarrassed, she frowned, turning her head to look at James.

"I'm think I'm done for the night. I should probably get home and change out." James nodded, a hand still settled on her waist.

"I left my coat somewhere. I can go grab it and me and Percy can take you home." Y/N nodded.

"I'll wait for you outside by the pool." And how that was the bad idea, for the moment she got outside and began waiting for James, Cyril caught sight of her. He advanced on her, wrapped his arms around her to help prevent a fight, and begun tugging her towards the pool.

"Cyril! No please!" She begged.

"Aawww. The nerd doesn't know how to swim, does she?" James came back outside just as Cyril got to the edge of the pool with her, catching sight of the moment.

"Cyril! No!" But before James could act further, Y/N was in the pool. She didn't resurface, and others around them just watched. It was Jame's turn to start to panic.

James ran towards the edge of the pool, before diving in. Upon submerging, he could see Y/N panicking. She reached out a hand for him to grasp onto as he swam towards her, and within seconds, they resurfaced. Besides being already wet, steady tears rolled down Y/N's face as she continued to panic. James hushed her.

"It's okay. Breathe. Just breath. I got you."

And as he trudged out of the water with her, he sent a scowling glare towards Cyril, walking away from the party and towards the car.

On the car ride home, his hand settled on her thigh, her fingers finding homage in his hand, before explaining the story of her brother, who was killed in a boating accident years before she started to attend Maxton.

------

Y/N had though things were good and normal, especially between her and James. They were happy. They made each other happy. So when she walked by what she presumed to be an empty classroom and heard voices, she stopped momentarily.

And she wished that she didn't, for the voices were going on about the dare James had taken part in, trying to date her and how he hadn't broken up with her yet.

Her world shattered. Y/N stood in the hallway for several minutes, tears rolling down her face as she thought back to the last few weeks and how happy she was. Not only that, but how happy she was James and how much she thought he had been happy.

Was it a lie? Was everything he felt for her a lie? Was there any truth to any of it.

Y/N refused to go to school the second half of the week. She couldn't confront James, as she wasn't sure how to go about it, but he knew something was wrong. That much was evident from the numerous phone calls and texts messages gone unanswered. Even then, she could tell he was panicking. But she let him bask in it.

Other than her parents, who supported whatever she wanted to do in that moment, Ruby and Lin were the only ones who knew. And they had made it quite clear to James where he stood, and that although he was already an asshole, pretending to love someone was a dick move.

And that's how he found out.

James' heart had dropped into his stomach, wondering how she might have found out. He had texted the guys lately about it. He hadn't even talked to them in person about it for quite some time, although he did get subtle comments made when he and Y/N were seen together. So he had deduced that the only way she could have heard about it, was by overhearing about it from someone else. But in the end, it didn't matter hoe she found out. All that mattered was that he fucked up, and there was no telling if he'd be able to fix it. The thought of that alone sent his heart twisting into knots.

James had continuously tried and tried to reach out to Y/N. She hadn't blocked him, as his texts and calls still went through. He had almost thought she answered one call, but then had changed her mind and ended it before anything could be said.

His world was shattering around him, and he had no one else but himself to blame. James became distracted. Had even turned a bit bitter toward his friends. It wasn't their fault, he should have came clean to her. It still would have caused issues, but then they had more of a chance of being fixed than now.

To say he was scared was an understatement.

James Mortimer Beaufort was completely and utterly, terrified.

James was trying everything in his power to fix things. He sent letters to her humble abode. Voice messages left in her inbox on her voice were amongst these, and he was surprised when never he reached the limit.

What he didn't know was that if there was anything Y/N listened to during that week, it was those. She listened to his apologies as she laid in bed, her breakfast forgotten beside her and tears becoming a river on her cheeks.

She had several questions, still unanswered. All of his attempts to get back with her, even if she never called anything off in the first place, made her wonder if he truly did care. But if he did, why was he a part of the dare in the first place. Why didn't he come clean? Most importantly. Why was she such an idiot?

And when she finally went back to school?

She avoided him like the bubonic plague.

He tried many attempts to get her to stop and listen to him. Most times he was left alone as she avoided him. She would pull her wrist out of his grasp and carry on, as if he wasn't even there. Sometimes though, he hoped that she would listen, as she would stop, turn to look at him, and wait several seconds as tears began to swell in her eyes. Then she'd walk away, only leaving James to wish he had spoken a bit quicker.

And every time he saw her back disappear around the corner, he felt as if he was slowly losing her.

And as the Young Beaufort line was beginning to become a reality, he had less and less time to fight for her. Even without that, he knew he was running out of time, and James couldn't let that happen.

-----

"Is he still trying to talk to you?" Ruby's voice sounded from the speaker of Y/N's phone. She sat on her bed, picking at her nails, a book lying forgotten next to her.

"Yea, he is."

"Didn't you end things?" Ruby asked, and as Y/N sat there and thought about it. She realized that she technically didn't. Did she want to? Did he do it already? It didn't seem likely as he was still talking to her, but maybe it was still part of the ruse.

"Not technically. No." It was silent for several seconds and Y/N wondered if the phone call ended.

"You're serious?"

"Yup."

"Y/N-"

"Don't." She started. Y/N had already gotten enough shit from other students since being back. The bullying had heightened tenfold.

She had an interaction with two girls within the event committee. Y/N didn't care to know their names because she didn't like them anyways. But they had both dumped their drinks on her clothes, prompting her to leave classes early today.

And what made it worse, as she walked away from the situation? She locked her teary eyes with James. He glowered at the girls who had consistently belittled and bullied Y/N throughout the week. James had opted to give Y/N space, but this time, he couldn't.

He had followed Y/N out of the room and quickly caught up to her. He tried to initiate contact, but she could only turn around and shove him away, crying and screaming at him to leave her alone.

"I don't know what to believe." Y/N finally spoke again to Ruby, who continued to listen on her side of the call. "He's doing everything to fix things, but I don't know if it's apart of a ruse to further the rewards of the dare." She explained, her voice cracking slightly.

"Does he sound genuine?"

Y/N thought to herself for several moments.

"That's the confusing part. He sounds completely geuine."

------

And finally, it was the night of the Victorian donor gala. Y/N had stuck close to Ruby and Lin. She had stayed quiet, slowly drinking her champagne as she conversed with a few students and professors.

She would watch the couples down below slow dancing to songs, and her heart ached because even after everything, she had wished her and James were down there.

"Stop thinking about it." Ruby came up beside her. "Be free tonight." Y/N listened as Ruby talked to her, distracting her. Until it wasn't Ruby distracting her, but a certain someone else. Y/N stared past Ruby down to the ground floor, where she could see James looking around. What he was looking for, she wasn't quite sure. That was, until James looked up, caught her gaze, and held it. His facial expression softened as he looked at her, and that was when Y/N knew who he was here for her.

Her.

Ruby saw that she was distracted and turned to see what she was looking at. She looked down at James. James eyes never left Y/N though. Ruby finally turned back to Y/N eith a heavy sigh.

"I think it's finally time you go talk to him." The comment broke Y/N out of her stupor, in which she didn't hesitate much as she slowly started her descent down the stairs.

It felt like forever before she finally ended up front of James.

"Why are you here?" She asked.

"I came to apologize."

"What about the Young Beaufort line?" James was surprised that she cared enough to ask about it.

"It doesn't matter in this moment."

"Then if not that, then what does?" She asked.

"You." James barely let Y/N finished asking the question before he responded. Y/N stared at him for several seconds, tears swelling up in her eyes.

"Why?" She finally asked.

"Truth?" He asked. Y/N nodded. All she wanted was the truth.

"I didn't expect to fall in love with you." James explained.

"And how am I expected to believe you?"

"You don't have to. Just, please, let me explain myself. And then afterward, if you want nothing to do with me, then I'll leave you alone. I promise." Y/N pondered what he said, before she finally nodded.

A slow song started to play, and the two looked at each other.

"May I?" He asked. "If this is the last time we are to do anything together, I'd like one last dance." Y/N's heart swelled, although she hated to admit with the circumstance. She took a few steps closer him, allowing it be his cue. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she wrapped her around his neck. The two started to slow dance.

"I don't know where to begin."

"From the beginning." He nodded, in agreement.

"Okay. So, it was a dare." He confirmed. "Cyril, Alistair and the others dared me that I couldn't get you to go on a date with me. I was honestly surprised that you did."

"I don't see the bad in people. You're a good person, James, and that's what I saw. I saw your caring personality beneath everything else and I fell in love with it." James stared at her as she spoke.

"Right." He cleared his throat. "Well, I honestly didn't expect to fall in love with you."

"Genuinely?"

"Genuinely." He confirmed.

"Then why didn't you say something sooner? This could have been avoided." He nodded, agreeing.

"I know. I was just scared. I wasn't sure how you would react, so I went on, hoping you wouldn't find out because I didn't want to risk the potential of losing you."

"But you might lose me know." He heart fell. Was this it? James swallowed thickly before looking at the floor in between their feet as they continued to slowly dance. "Hey."

James looked back up at her and in his expression, she could see that he was terrified.

"I never did technically end the relationship." She gave him a small smile. "Sure, things will need to be worked on and trust reinstated, but I'm willing to work through-" James didn't let her finish what she was saying, enveloping her lips into a searing kiss, in which it only took her seconds to melt into it.

------

Tag list:

@honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @imasimptoowth

#james beaufort x reader #james beaufort #maxton hall

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koshkamartell · 2 days

Text

No One But Me

masterlist

If you were going to live a life pretending to be happy with Joel, you were not going to allow him to completely oppress you.

You stopped speaking to him unless necessary, essentially ignoring him. You dedicated more of your time planning lessons. You spent alot of time out in the garden despite the freezing cold. You read your books and sipped your tea - you even found you started to like the way the chill pierced your lungs whenever you inhaled deeply. I reminded you that could still enjoy freedom in other ways outside the house.

The little rush you get from ignoring Joel is addictive. It could have been considered pathetic to anyone else but it makes you feel powerful in a way you had never felt before.

You became slower to attend to your house duties because you were often too preoccupied with daydreaming. When Joel reminded you to be more prompt in washing the dishes he was sure you rolled your eyes at him. Sometimes you would mumble something that he couldn't quite catch with his bad hearing, but when he'd question what you said you would just say "nothing, Joel".

Joel got frustrated with you more and more often because of your carelessness. His harsh words soon turned into rough grabs and shoves, then they progressed into slaps.

You had forfeited your friendship with Oscar to protect him from Joel. That was not going to change. You remember the rumours that had circulated around town about Joel's propensity for violence when he and Ellie first arrived. Considering what he has done to you, there is no doubting Joel would take great pleasure in torturing Oscar. You would rather disappear from Oscar's life than risk Joel potentially killing him just for talking to you.

Although you feared for Oscar, you did not fear for your own safety. Not any longer. Joel had already hurt you as much as he could and you had survived. What was another slap? What was another bruise to add to the rest of the purple-yellow clusters that mottled your skin? Whatever punishment he deemed fit would be worth suffering, just for the reminder that your heart was still beating with life and love.

Although your spirit had grown stronger and more independent it is still impossible for you to completely relax. You simply cannot when Joel is a constant dark shadow following you, the wicked source of both your pleasure and your misery, the man who wants nothing more than to hurt and possess you.

Joel not only invades your body, but you swear he is beginning to invade your thoughts, too. His presence seems to pervade your surroundings at all times. Even when he isn't at home and you are alone in the house you feel like you are being watched. You know it isn't logical and that he's either on patrol or at the bar, but it does little to alleviate the unsettling feeling of being spied on.

At times you feel like he can read your mind and it makes you question your sanity. He always seemed to be one step ahead of you, always calculating your next move before you could even think of it.

Like when you planned to ask him for extra time allowance to go to the market for food and had discovered he already went shopping and stocked up on as much food as his rations would allow. You searched through the pantry and fridge and were astounded by the plenitude of food.

Never before had you seen another person's pantry so well stocked with flour and fruits, or so much butter, milk and eggs all in one single fridge. You almost allowed yourself to believe that maybe he had done it to prove his dedication to you, to demonstrate how he cared about you and wanted you to eat.

But that was probably a farfetched idea, you concluded. He was no longer the tender and loving Joel that he had been in the recent weeks. His personality had morphed once again, disorientating you even more.

From that point on the house had an abundance of food at all times, leaving you with no excuse not to cook or to go out to fetch ingredients without him.

Fine, you decided, if you couldn't get time outside then you would try harder to limit your proximity to Joel. He may have coerced you into living with him but you didn't have to share his bed.

You gathered your pillow and headed to one of the spare rooms with the intention of setting up a cosy nest in privacy. But when you tried to open the door you had found it locked, perhaps for the first time ever.

Strange, you thought, before moving onto the next room down the hallway.

When you went to enter the second bedroom you had discovered its door was also locked. You rattled the handle fruitlessly, growling with frustration, then kicked at the door.

Ofcourse Joel locked them, you chided yourself. Because he knew you'd try isolate yourself.

Because sleeping in the spare rooms weren't an option you tried the next best thing - the couch. Joel walked into the living room just as you were spreading a blanket and pillow over the couch and he understood your intention right way.

"No," he grunted. He scooped you up and carried you all the way upstairs, ignoring your thrashing and protests. He took you into the master bedroom and dumped you unceremoniously onto his mattress.

"Knock it off," he scowled. You just glared at him and he shook his head at you.

"Last warnin'," Joel cautioned sternly. "Next time I'll tie you to this damn bed."

You don't doubt he would, so you resign yourself to sleeping in his bed every night. Atleast the heat from his body keeps you warm, you think. And when you startle awake from another horrible dream in the middle of the night, sobbing and with your heart pounding, it's Joel's arms that hold you tight. It's Joel's gravelly voice that whispers soothing phrases into your hair. In some kind of unspoken paradoxical illusion it is his enduring presence that ultimately assuages your distress.

••••••

Having you living in his home has awoken a new depth of perversion in Joel that he cannot temper. It excites him to know you sit waiting for him to return home every night like a good little housewife, that your pretty face and your sweet scent will greet him when he steps through the door after a long stint on patrol.

His cock thickens in his pants to think of how accessible your body is now that you are essentially a prisoner in his house with no where to run and hide. Joel has even contemplated the idea of tying you to the bed each night; mostly for his pleasure and to reinforce your position beside him, but also to fuck with your head a bit.

Maybe he can tie you up and take some more perverted pictures of you sometime. The possibilities are endless, especially now that he's resolved not to give a fuck about your feelings. Despite the pathological love he feels for you, the embers of hatred still smoulder inside Joel; it urges him to hurt you, to break your will.

Your attitude lately was really starting to piss him off. Your behaviour reminded him of a sullen teenager at times - you barely talked to him and always evaded him in favour of being alone with your books. You had even started sitting on the steps of the back porch to read, a blanket draped over your shoulders to protect you from the evening chill.

He had a good mind to burn those fucking books.

It felt like you were toying with him with some sort of strategic psychological game to purposely anger him. And it was working. But like a moth to the flame his hunger for you is more insatiable than ever; like he wants to drain the life from you and devour you whole, as if your arousal is the essence in which keeps his blackened heart beating. He is greedy in his quest to ravish you.

Joel marks you in any place that can be concealed by your clothing. Your breasts and stomach are littered with purple hickies and the imprint of teeth, as are your thighs and the flesh of your ass cheeks. Joel tries to restrain himself from marking your neck gratuitously though; he doesn't want to raise any suspicions but he is also too possessive to allow you to walk around with prominent hickies all over your neck. He doesn't want some asshole looking at you and thinking you're easy.

You have come to know that there is no point in trying to resist Joel's advances anymore, either, because he just ends up taking from you anyway. Your refusal only spurns him on and feeds his obsessive compulsion to dominate you, and the more you resist him the more determined he is to break you.

When you kick at him and smack at his face and chest Joel silences you with heavy slaps across your face. He likes to slap you - on your cheeks, your ass, your breasts - so he can see the bloom of his red hand print on you.

He wins the battle of wills between you and he over and over again. And as much as you fucking hate him there is no denying the rapacious magnetism you and Joel share. You may scratch and bite like a feral cat but it is all part of the game you play. He knows you can't resist him, even if you could never admit it to yourself.

"Told you I know you better than you think," he whispered tauntingly in your ear the other night, just after he had coaxed a mind blowing orgasm from you. "Don't forget this pussy is mine, baby girl."

Joel left you a whimpering mess, too fucked out to say anything in return to his boasting. He's never seen you squirt so much before, but his own orgasms seem more intense now, too. He is finding it increasingly more difficult not to cum inside you and fill your cunt with his load every time he has you. It feels like he's defying his natural instincts by pulling out and spilling his seed elsewhere.

Joel fights the urge to remain buried in you but it seems his ability to restrain himself wanes a little each time. Joel waits until the last couple of seconds to withdraw but he fights the urge to remain buried in you every time. His ability to restrain himself seems to wane a little more each time.

Fuck, Joel would love nothing more than to explode inside your perfect pussy. It is not that Joel wants to get you pregnant or have more children; infact just the thought of him fathering a child again makes his stomach clench anxiously. It's the act itself, internally marking you with his cum, that he so badly wants to indulge in.

Joel makes a mental note to check on his pill stash to see if there's any more plan b. He knows for sure that he still has pain killers and sleeping pills. They will come in handy for the future, he thinks, when he's sure you are both ready to move on from here.

Kate yawns as she carries her cup of tea from the kitchen to the living room, grateful for the the warmth of the mug heating the palm of her hand. Although she is wearing a thick sweater over two long sleeved shirts she still feels chilled. These past few months have been bitterly cold with no sign of reprieve, and like most Jackson residents she longs for the snow to ease and for the warm sunshine to return.

For Kate the early mornings during this time of year are the worst; she hates having to leave the refuge of her bed to go to work when the sky is still dark and the air is unforgiving and icy. Fortunately today she is able to enjoy a leisurely morning infront of the fireplace.

She is just about to sit down in one of the armchairs when three solid knocks rap on the front door.

"Who on earth...?" Kate mumbles to herself.

No one visits this early in the morning, unless maybe Maria or someone else from the committee are in search of a volunteer to fill a work duty for the day. Shit, she really hopes it isn't the case - she's really looked forward to her day off this week.

With her mug still in hand Kate shuffles to the door and turns the handle to pull it open. She's visibly surprised to be greeted by the sight of Oscar standing on her porch, his nose and his cheeks tinged with pink. The chill from the wind infiltrates the house immediately and Kate makes a hissing noise.

"Oscar!" she blurts out in surprise. "Matt has already left for work, you've just missed him, sorry."

She obviously assumes Oscar is at her front door calling on her brother, but Oscar shakes his head and narrows his gaze at her.

"I'm not here to see Matt," he speaks cheerlessly. "I'm here to see you."

Kate frowns, perplexed. "Huh? Me?"

"Yes Kate, I need to talk to you." Oscar replies firmly. "Let me in."

She is startled by the fixed solemnity within his striking brown eyes, how his usual jovial smile has been replaced by the grave downturn of his mouth. Kate realises she has never seen Oscar look so concerned before, and the realisation worries her.

She hurriedly steps aside to let him inside the house. "Ofcourse, Oscar, come in."

He stamps the snow from his boots before entering the house and Kate quickly shuts the door behind him. She ushers him into the living room and they end up perched on opposite ends of the couch by the crackling fireplace. She takes a sip of tea while eyeing him curiously.

Then a sudden wave of emotion crashes over her. There could only be one reason why her brother's friend is visiting her looking so forlorn.

"Oh my god!" Kate cries out. "Is it Matt? Please tell me Matt isn't hurt! He just left for work, what could have happened--"

Oscar immediately holds his hand out to quieten her.

"Kate, he's fine," he soothes. "Matt is fine. He's not the reason I'm here."

"Oh, thank God." Kate exhales with relief. "Holy shit Oscar, you scared me."

"I'm sorry," he apogises sincerely. "I didn't mean to worry you like that. But I'm here because I am worried."

"What's up, Oscar?" She asks gently.

The words tumble from Oscar's mouth without hesitation, as though he is desperate to divulge the burden of a secret.

He tells Kate everything. He tells her about how his crush on you developed into something more meaningful, that you shared a kind of deep connection with each other that he couldn't quite explain. He details to Kate about the night he confessed his feelings to you and about the subsequent note you had written him - the one that apologised for wasting his time and that said you couldn't be friends anymore.

Kate listens with rapt fascination, cycling through a range of emotions throughout Oscar's monologue; she sways from astonishment to delight, from bemusement to dismay. By the time Oscar concludes his story Kate's own face has morphed into a sombre scowl.

"I can see why you're worried," she admits quietly. "It all worries me, too."

Oscar sighs heavily and buries his face in his hands. "I didn't know if I was just getting all wound up over nothing, but it just doesn't feel right to me, Kate. I had to come and see what you think."

Kate tentatively sets her mug of now lukewarm tea on the coffee table before her. "Well, I have been a little concerned that we haven't seen her around lately. But when I asked about it she just said work has been really busy."

Kate gives a sheepish shrug. "I didn't really give it much thought after that. But now, after what you have said...maybe we need to do something."

Oscar slumps back into the couch and slaps his hands down onto his thighs. "She doesn't want to see me, Kate. What can I do?"

"I'll talk to her," Kate says firmly. "I'll go check in with her, maybe at her house. And I won't tell her you came to see me, so don't worry about that."

Oscar stares at Kate with gloom clouding his large brown eyes . "Please let me know what she says as soon as you can, Kate. Please. I have to know she's alright."

The strain is evident on Oscar's face and Kate feels a twinge of pity tug at her heart. She hopes this is all a big misunderstanding, that the intensity of his feelings have caused him to misread things and that you are perfectly fine. But now a seed of doubt has been planted in Kate's mind and she cannot be sure.

She just pats his shoulder reassuringly. "I will, Oscar. I promise."

••••••

Kate felt an overwhelming urge to talk to Rhi and seek some kind of guidance. Rhi had always been the more pragmatic one in your friendship group, the one everyone confided in and went to for advice, and now Kate felt she needed to hear Rhi's perspective on this whole situation.

That afternoon Kate bundled herself into her thick woolen coat and set off to the town square. She walked briskly across the town square toward Rhi's work. The haberdashery is located on the main street of Jackson tucked between a leather goods store and a shoe repair shop. Because the block of businesses provide essential services to the community there is always a steady trickle of people coming and going and bustling around the street outside. That afternoon was no exception and Kate had to manoeuvre around a cluster of people spread outside the leatherworks.

An older lady trudged out of the haberdashery and bumped into Kate's shoulder as she passed, grumbling something about crocheting needles. Kate sniggered to herself at the thought of sassy Rhi taming ill tempered customers with her quick wit and sharp quips.

The inside of the store is more spacious than what its exterior suggests. There are display cupboards lined against the walls that are full of tapes of ribbon and differently coloured and patterned stacks of material. The service counter in the middle is surrounded by panels of fabric and measuring rulers, chalk and large scissors. Towards the back of the store are atleast half a dozen wooden desks arranged in neat rows with sewing machines sat ontop of them. There are women flitting about the store carrying armfuls of material and baskets of wool, needles and an assortment of other tools.

Kate spotted Rhi emerging from the storeroom at the very back with a panel of rolled fabric in her hands. When Rhi noticed Kate approaching, she smiled warmly, a serene look flooding over her pretty features.

"Hey babe, what's up? I have to say, it's a pleasant surprise to see you here." She dumped the roll onto the counter. "Cheered my day up instantly."

Kate grinned. "Really? That bad, huh?"

Rhi snorted and reached over the clutter on the counter to retrieve a pair of scissors. "Yep," she said, emphasising the 'p' with a pop. "If Mrs. Letterman comes in here one more time to complain that the yarn is subpar and that's why she keeps messing up her knitting, I'll fucking scream."

Kate laughed and gave her a companionable pat on the shoulder. "Ah, always so much drama in the world of textiles."

Rhi rolled her eyes jovially and prepared to cut a swath from the fabric roll. "Uh-huh. So why are you here on your day off? Bored so you've come to keep me company?"

Kate was suddenly reminded of why she is there in the first place. She cleared her throat and crossed her arms, her cheery demeanour visibly shifting into a more sober expression. Rhi was too busy snipping the material to notice the change in her friend.

"Well, you see...Oscar actually came to visit me this morning," Kate began carefully.

"Oscar the fox?" Rhi interrupted with a grin, eyes still on the task infront of her. "What did he want?"

Kate took a breath and then recited a brief description of Oscar's concerns to Rhi, omitting how Oscar confessed his love to you. Kate could see the depth of his candor and knew it was something to be respected and kept private.

Rhi listened and waited patiently for Kate to finish speaking, then laid down the scissors and turned to face her friend.

"Wait, let me get this right. You're worried because you haven't seen her around much and she seems sad?" Rhi asked, one eyebrow cocked skeptically.

Kate sighed and shoot Rhi an unimpressed look of reproach.

"Come on, Kate! She's in the honeymoon phase," Rhi exclaimed and threw up her hands. "She's probably too busy getting fucked out of her mind and in love and finally enjoying a man."

Kate, used to her friend's informal attitude and candid way of speaking, just rolled her eyes at Rhi's crassness.

"God knows she's needed it," Rhi said with a smirk. "Oscar's probably got a little thing for her and is jealous or something."

"It's more than that, I think," Kate sighed again.

"You guys are worrying for nothing. I spoke to Joel just last night and everything seemed fine."

"What? Really?" Kate's eyes widened in surprise.

Joel never talks to anyone outside his group of patrol buddies. Infact, Kate wonders how someone as seemingly antisocial as Joel and someone as shy as you ever got together in the first place.

"Yeah!" Rhi smiled brightly. "He came up to me at the cafeteria and asked me if Beau was leaving me alone - he was checking up on me! Can you believe?" Rhi sighed wistfully. "What a man! Anyways, he said she was tired and chilling at home after work, that she said she wanted him to say sorry on her behalf for being so busy."

"I don't know," Kate mumbled dubiously. "She never comes to the mess hall anymore, or to any movie night. When I went to the school to see her, she was...I dunno, like scatterbrained."

"Hmm," Rhi hummed.

She tapped her fingers on her chin as she considered a course of action. "Alright then, let's invite her out to dinner and see what she says. Then we can get all the juicy details and see how she really is."

Kate nodded. "Good idea. I'll go see her later. I just hope you're right and she's not hiding something."

"When it turns out that she's just been busy getting dicked down, you owe me," Rhi smiled teasingly.

Kate had accosted you as you were leaving the school. She enveloped you in a big hug and pleaded with you to come have dinner with her and the girls tomorrow night. She had caught you so off guard that you hurriedly agreed.

It was only afterwards, as you walked home, that reality sunk in. Why did you say yes when Joel was so adamant about you not going anywhere? How were you going to convince him to let you go out?

But you had missed your friends so much; you really did want to see them and spend time with them like the old days. You had to try. You owed them atleast that.

Despite not wanting to be subservient to Joel, you know you have to be humble and supplicating if you want him to grant you permission to go out tomorrow night. You can't be too assertive or demanding so you wait patiently until after dinner, when he has showered and changed into his night clothes. He is always so much more relaxed with food in his stomach and a fresh set of clothes on his back.

You approach Joel as he sits in his armchair nursing a glass of whiskey. You stand infront of him and clasp your hands behind your back, your fingers nervously twisting together. His eyes rake up and down your body and his jaw ticks. You cannot decipher what his mood is like right at this moment, although he seemed tranquil during dinner.

"Joel," you begin with a gentle tone. "I was wondering if I could go have dinner at the mess hall tomorrow night. Kate has asked me to go."

"What do you think the answer is?" He says without missing a beat.

"B-but this is important--"

"No," he mutters dismissively.

"Joel, it's just having dinner at the cafeteria, that is all," you explain calmly. "And I haven't seen the girls for so long."

"No."

"But they will be expecting me to go--"

"Girl if you think you have any chance of goin' out you are sorely fuckin' mistaken." Joel snaps irritably.

He leans forward and throws back his shot of whiskey, then slams it down on the table beside him. You flinch when he then heaves himself out of his chair and advances on you, but still you cannot stop the deluge of words that come tumbling out of your mouth.

"I'll have dinner ready and waiting for you and I'll have everything around the house--"

"I said no. How many goddamn times do I have to tell you?" Joel raises his voice. "You are comin' straight home from work and that's it."

"But I'm not working tomorrow--"

You and Joel are interrupted by the sudden crashing sound of the front door slamming shut. The heavy bang reverberates throughout the lower ground floor of the house ominously.

You freeze on the spot while Joel quickly moves infront of you, protective and immediately ready to pounce at any threat of danger. Your hands cling to the material of his shirt.

You aren't really scared because Joel is with you, but the possibility of someone forcing their way into the house is still disturbing. You take a furtive peek from behind the solid of his flank to see just what is going on.

A figure emerges from the shadow of the hallway to reveal themself.

Ellie.

She stands at the entry way of the living room, her eyebrows creased and her mouth pulled into a grimace. She stares hard at Joel. She looks pissed off.

"Ellie," Joel says gently, his posture slackening. You let go of Joel's shirt and sigh with relief.

"What the fuck, Joel?" She grits out, her voice tight.

How much of the conversation did she hear? You wonder. Joel says nothing. He just stays silent and stares back at Ellie.

You wish you could see his face.

"Why does she have to be home straight after work?" Ellie demands loudly.

"Mind your business, Ellie." Joel shoots back, his tone quiet and serious.

"No, I wanna know!"

You step out from behind Joel and approach Ellie slowly. You have no idea what exactly she heard Joel say but you have to try maintain the pretence that everything is normal.

"He didn't mean it like what you think, El," you say gently, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder.

"He didn't mean to tell you that you couldn't leave the fuckin' house?" Ellie spits bitterly, her eyes shifting between Joel and you. "Because that's what it sounded like."

"Joel's just worried about my safety. There was a ranger who was bothering me and my friend at dinner a while ago. He was being threatening. Joel is just having a bit of trouble trusting that something like that won't happen again."

Your voice is soft and pacifying but even to your ears your words sound unconvincing and lame. You hate Joel for putting you in this position, for making you lie through your teeth to one of the most important people in your life.

Ellie stares at you, searching over your face. You can tell by the pinch of her brows and the uncertainty in her eyes that she's conflicted and doesn't know whether or not to believe you. When she doesn't move you take her hand in yours and give it a little squeeze.

"What's up, El? You come over for something to eat?" You ask, changing the topic while trying to sound more light-hearted. "I have some leftovers if you're hungry."

"I came over because I wanted to ask if you wanna get breakfast tomorrow," Ellie grumbles. "That's if you're allowed to." She shoots a pointed look at Joel.

"Yeah, I'd love that, El." You swiftly assure her, hoping the slightly breathless hitch in your voice doesn't give away the fact that your heart is racing. "It's my day off. We can even spend the whole day together, if you want."

Ellie's eyes drag from Joel to you and you give her an affirming little smile.

"Well, Uncle Tommy did set up the axe throwing thing again..." She says with an offhanded shrug.

You know this is Ellie's way of accepting your invitation; you bite back a smile, having to hide the relief that flows through you

"Awesome." You reply casually. "You can show me your skills tomorrow, then. Maybe even teach me how to do it."

She nods a little. "Cool."

The heavy tension in the air alleviates to some degree. You glance over at Joel; he's got his arms crossed and his eyes are fixated on Ellie, but like the typically stoic man he is, Joel gives no indication of what he's feeling or thinking.

"Do you wanna stay for a while?" You offer her.

With a flick of her wrist she flips the hood of her jacket up over her head. "Nah, gotta go meet Dina. I'll see ya tomorrow for breakfast."

"It's a date." You nod. "Meet you here at 8 and we can walk together."

"Okay." Ellie shifts hesitantly on her feet, glancing back to Joel and narrowing her eyes into suspicious slits. "You better not be acting like an asshole."

Joel rolls his eyes and scoffs. "I ain't. Now get outta here, kid."

You and Joel follow Ellie to the door to bid her goodnight. She stomps down the porch steps and shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket. The lamps lining the street glow above Ellie's lithe silhouette as she walks away.

You feel the anxiety drain from your body and your body momentarily sags against the door frame. You and Joel watch Ellie right up until she disappears into the next street.

As soon as you retreat back inside the house Joel clicks the door shut behind you. He moves swiftly to cage you between himself and the wall. He glares down at you with threatening hostility.

"You hurt that girl and I swear to God..." He whispers as he stares down at you. The strain of repressed emotion makes the timbre of his Southern accent thicker.

Your face crumples and you feel the instant threat of hot tears sting your eyes. Does Joel really believe you would ever be capable of purposely hurting Ellie? For all this time you have being sheilding her from the truth of your relationship with Joel just so she can have some kind of stable family life. You can honestly attest to doing whatever you can not to hurt Ellie. Can Joel not see that?

"Come on, Joel. I'd never hurt Ellie." You can't hide the genuine hurt in your voice. "Didn't I just prove that?"

You duck underneath his arm to quickly scurry away but Joel's hand seizes your upper arm and halts you suddenly. His grip is bruising and hurts - as it seems to be every time he touches you now days.

You tilt your head to meet his eyes, your expression already listless and defeated.

"I'll let you go to breakfast with her...and this thing with your friends...but if you say one word to her or anyone about anything..." Joel gives a minute shake of his head and clenches his jaw.

There is a torrent of emotion swirling within his brown eyes, something that appears like a mix of sadness and worry and anger, but you don't care to scrutinise it. You have no energy or will to argue; you are so drained that you just want to go to bed and sleep.

"I won't," you whisper.

Joel studies your face for a few moments, as if he's weighing something up in his mind, and he eventually let's go of your arm without another word. You wrap your arms around yourself and scamper toward the stairs.

Breakfast with Ellie is pleasant, if not a little awkward. Neither of you mention last night and conversation seems stilted at times, but overall you both enjoy the other's company. Ellie so thrilled at the prospect of taking you axe throwing afterwards that you have to tell her to stop scoffing her scrambled eggs and toast.

As soon as you leave the dining hall Ellie grabs your arm and guides you across the town square toward the woolshed and the blacksmith workshop. She leads you to a secluded area behind the sheds that Tommy has cordoned off from the general public. Your mouth falls open in wonderous surprise when Ellie unveils the small axe throwing range Tommy has constructed. The range is shaped in a rectangle, with one end for throwing and the other for the targets.

On the target end, a row of three rounded archery butts have been assembled several feet apart from one another. An axe has been wedged into the centre of one of the butts. At the opposite end of the range, around twelve feet away, Tommy has marked a stripe on the ground to indicate where the axe thrower should stand. He has also used white paint to outline three separate lanes on the ground.

"Pretty fuckin' cool, huh?" Ellie grins widely, raptly watching your reaction.

"Yes! It's amazing!" You say, sincerely in awe as you survey your surroundings. "I can't believe Tommy did all this!"

"Yep, says I'm his favourite niece."

"Ellie, you're his only niece."

"Precisely why he has to do what I want," Ellie beams. "Now stand back and watch the master at work."

For the next hour Ellie demonstrates the skills she has acquired from Tommy and other townsfolk who are proficient in wielding weapons. She talks the whole time, alternating between explaining techniques she learned and retelling funny stories that they had shared with her. You watch each throw and listen to Ellie's every word, marvelling at her natural aptitude for the sport.

She looks back at you whenever the axe lands within the bullseye, and you cheer and clap with just the right amount of enthusiasm that won't make her feel awkward. The proud smirk Ellie wears makes your heart sing.

You and Ellie stay at the range for a while. You even try your hand at throwing the axe a few times, making you both laugh hysterically when you fail. You are doubled over giggling when a silky, gravelly voice startles you both.

"Atleast if anythin' ever happens to ya, you'll have Ellie to save your ass."

You both whip around to find Tommy standing by the makeshift door, thumbs hooked in his belt loops and a wide grin plastered on his handsome face.

"Oh no, how long have you been standing there for?" You groan, your cheeks blushing with embarrassment.

"Long enough to see why you ain't never worked a patrol shift," Tommy teases.

"Hey, leave her alone," Ellie slings her arm around your neck defensively. "I'm gonna teach her and then the both of us will make you eat shit."

Tommy barks a hearty laugh. "I don't doubt it, El." He ambles over to you both and gives you a wink. "Now let me have a turn to show off."

The afternoon at the range is even more fun with Tommy around. The three of you take turns throwing, with both of them teaching you how to properly aim and launch until you actually hit the target. You can't recall the last time you genuinely enjoyed yourself so much.

When you arrive back home, your soul singing and your spirits high, Joel is waiting for you on the porch swing like a disapproving father. The smile on your face drops as soon as you spot his glower, and you slink up the porch steps like a dog about to be scolded.

You drag your feet as you walk through the front door, Joel trailing behind you wordlessly like an ominous shadow.

You should have known he'd make you pay your penance for today.

••••••

"Watch," Joel demands gruffly, voice low and thick with desire.

He uses the hand tangled in your hair to wrench your head back so you are staring at the bathroom mirror. He towers behind you, still fully dressed with only his cock free from his jeans, while you stand completely naked before him. The cold air of the room makes you shiver, your bare flesh prickling with goosebumps.

He kicks your legs apart and grabs your ass cheek with his other hand, digging his fingers into you painfully. You hiss and try to squirm away but his nails only press into you further and hold you tighter.

Joel leans forward and licks a thick stripe from your the base of your neck up to your ear, where he plants a soft kiss on your earlobe. His beard tickles you and his warm breath beats against your skin.

"Watch yourself get fucked." He whispers.

You have no other option.

Joel stoops ever so slightly to line the weeping head of his cock against the slit of your cunt. He bows his head and spits a warm wad of saliva onto where you connect to lubricate himself. Then he wastes no time pushing into you, groaning at the way your heat slips around him, how fucking perfect you feel at the first stretch. You moan involuntarily and he feels your pussy clench around him while your legs tremble.

Joel loves how much your body still desires his, even after all this time, even after all your efforts to push him away. He watches your reflection intently and smirks at the way your brows knit together and your mouth hangs open.

Joel slides his cock all the way inside your pussy and fills you completely, then quickly retracts his hips and pulls out again. He slams back in forcefully and relishes how you wince and gasp, taking pleasure in the fact that he knows you feel like you're being split in two, that the initial thrusts always hurt you, even more so when he hasn't prepared you at all.

"Don't forget who makes the fuckin' rules around here, little girl," Joel gruffs.

Joel had begrudgingly agreed to let you go meet up with your friends tonight. He couldn't possibly say no after Ellie had walked in on your argument together. That would just confirm her suspicions about what a controlling asshole he is.

But Joel could still prove to you just who was in charge. And that's exactly what he was doing right now.

His hand is wound tightly in your hair, making it impossible for you to move. He uses it as an anchor while he begins to pound into you at a steady pace, powerful and hard. Each punch of his fat cock pushes the air from your lungs and makes you grip tighter to the bathroom vanity.

Doggystyle has always been one of Joel's favourite positions. He loves sinking his fingers into the curves of your waist and your hips as he watches your ass jiggle from the impact of his thrusts. He revels in how pliant you become, unable to control how fast or hard he drills into you. He relishes in just how fucking animalistic it is.

Joel is able to see your every microexpression reflected in the mirror infront of you both and he wants you to see yourself, too; to see how utterly he wrecks you, how pathetic you look when you're blissed out and drunk on his cock.

When he had cornered you in the bathroom as you prepared to shower. You had struggled feebly, tried to fight him off, but you both knew it was impossible for you to escape him.

You stare back at him now with half lidded eyes, vacant yet consumed, body weak and malleable as he hammers into you. Joel can read the shame on your face, the embarrassment you feel that he is both the one you hate and the one who pleasures your body so expertly.

Joel snaps his hips into your ass over and over and his balls smack against your skin, loud and lewd in the echo of the bathroom. He pushes down on your lower spine while tugging your head firmly backward, causing your back to bow. The change of angle allows the head of his cock to hit your gspot and the sensation pulls a raspy moan from deep in your throat.

"Yeah, there it is," Joel growls, his wolfish stare transfixed on your reflection.

He cants his hips so that he taps against the soft spongy spot repeatedly, over and over with every thrust, and soon your pussy begins to contract around his dick, signalling your impending climax.

Your eyes are half closed, vision unfocused, your bottom lip caught inbetween your teeth. Joel snakes his hand around your front and slips his fingers between your lips to press on your clit. Your thighs shake and you moan wantonly as he begins rubbing the sensitive spot in sloppy circles.

"Cum on my cock," Joel pants, "I know you're close, baby, give it to me."

He slams into you harder and faster while he grunts like a wild animal, his dark orbs hyper focused on your fucked out expression in the mirror. He keeps his thick fingers pressed to your clit with just the right amount of pressure and speed that he knows will make you come apart on his dick.

Your jaw goes slack and your eyes shut tightly. He knows how humiliated you feel and it only makes him more determined. He wants to violate every inch of your body and your mind until he's all you can feel and taste.

Joel jerks your head sharply.

"Eyes open," he barks, "look at me when you cum."

Your eyes flutter open to meet his reflection and a only a few seconds later your orgasm hits. Joel pummels your cunt relentlessly and you keen loudly from the waves of blissful pleasure he has forced upon your body.

You look so fucking gorgeous, he thinks.

Joel frees his hand from your hair and gives your rump a harsh smack that leaves a stinging red mark on your skin.

"Fuck yeah," Joel moans, "can feel that pussy milkin' me, babydoll."

He continues to rub your clit throughout the high of your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure until you are overstimulated and desperate for him to stop. He grins when your eyes roll back and he feels a gush of your juice drip down his girth and his balls.

"There you go, pretty slut," Joel murmers.

Soon it becomes too much for your swollen clit and your thighs clamp around his hand. You shake your head and gasp.

"Stop," your voice comes out weak and wrecked. "Enough, please."

The sensation of your muscles squeezing around his cock is so deliciously intense that Joel's own orgasm comes quicker than expected. When he feels his balls tighten Joel abruptly removes his hand from your clit and swiftly withdraws from your aching pussy. He holds tightly to your hip and furiously jerks his cock a few times before shooting ropes of warm cum all over your ass and lower back. He groans like a beast, chest heaving, his orgasm hitting him in one big intense wave.

When Joel is finished and his balls are empty he staggers backwards and stuffs his cock back into his jeans. He admires the streaks he has painted on your skin and how his spend drips across the faint white scars on your ass; it fills him with proud gratitication, as it always does to see you so degradingly marked by him.

He is uncaring when your legs give out and you sink to the cold tiled floor. He doesn't speak to you or look at your face when he pushes past you and walks out of the bathroom. He just leaves you alone to clean up the mess he's made, as he always does.

••••••

After you shower you don't complain when Joel stands at the closet and selects he outfit you would wear tonight (a simple long sleeved navy coloured dress with thick black tights). You wear your hair pulled back in a basic ponytail so that the necklace he gifted you is clearly visible.

You listen dutifully and don't talk back when he outlines the stipulations of tonight's outing; that you are only to talk to women at the hall, that you stay in his line of sight at all times, and that you can only stay an hour and a half tops.

Joel escorts you to the mess hall with his hand resting possessively on your lower back. He's not as anxious as he had anticipated but the familiar knot of aversion still sits heavy in his stomach. Regardless of his inner conflict Joel keeps his head held high as he walks into the hall beside you.

All your friends are already at a table and when they spot you they wave excitedly.

God damn, anyone would think you had been gone for years, the way these girls are behaving.

Joel politely greets your friends and awkwardly watches as they take turns hugging you and gushing about how much they have missed you.

Joel doesn't stick around. He goes to the serving station to get a tray of food and then finds a seat at an empty table not too far away from yours. A few minutes later Tommy shows up and joins him.

They eat in companionable silence for a while. Joel isn't in the mood to talk, too preoccupied with sneaking glances your way to maintain conversation. He didn't want to let you out of his sight for a minute - not that he actually thought you'd run away or something, but the paranoia was starting to get to him. He had to be vigilant. Joel didn't want other people taking up your precious time but he also didn't want you to have any opportunity to betray him.

What if you were telling your stupid bitch friends all about your private business? Joel is sure they would drag you away from him. Then they would go crying to Maria and the council, and there would be no way in hell that they'd listen to his side of the story. Ellie would fucking hate him. Your life together would be ruined.

But thankfully for Joel there didn't appear to be any indication of that happening tonight. He watches you sat amongst your friends, all of them talking and giggling exuberantly around you. It appeared to be a happy little reunion, however Joel noticed a clear contrast between you and the others; your reserved smile and tired, dull eyes didn't match their more cheerful expressions. It almost appeared as though you didn't want to be there.

Joel had not realised just how much he was staring until Tommy coughed a little to get his attention.

"You're like a damn dog with a bone," Tommy snorts. "She ain't goin' anywhere, Joel."

"Don't know what you're talkin' about." Joel mutters, finally tearing his eyes away from you. He picks up a piece of bread and mops up some of the gravy on his plate with it.

"You've been starin' at her since the moment I sat down."

"Fuck off, Tommy," Joel bristles. "Just makin' sure she's safe."

Tommy chuckles. "From what? She's sittin' with her friends. And you made that Beau boy shit his pants. You think any man would dare try anythin' after that?"

Joel says nothing in reply. What Tommy had said was true - now your relationship is public knowledge no man in the whole of Jackson would even think of trying to flirt with you.

"Anyway, how's the domestic side of things goin'?" Tommy grins. "You two love birds think' of sealin' the deal?"

Joel glances up from his plate and his brow creases. "If you're talkin' marriage that ain't gonna happen."

"You told your girl that?" Tommy asks with an amused little smirk.

"What?"

"Have ya'll talked about the future? You might not want all that, but ever thought she might?"

Joel knows Tommy isn't being argumentative or intrusive, that his younger brother is just being the romantic dreamer he always has been, but he raises a good point. Joel actually hadn't given much thought to marriage with you, or even talked with you about it, although he suspects it is something you do (or did) want.

Joel shifts uncomfortably in his chair and goes back to concentrating on his dinner. "Not everybody wants that kinda thing, Tom."

Tommy hums in agreement. "That's true," he concedes. "She just gives me the impression of bein' the kind that wants that kinda thing."

"What do you mean?" Joel asks lowly. "What'd she say?"

"Aw it was nothin'. We were just talkin' a bit at the range today, mainly about school 'n all that." Tommy says plainly before taking a bite of the roasted meat on his fork. "Said she was lonely at times, wants more in life."

More in life? What the fuck does that even mean? Why were you talking to Tommy about your life anyway?

"She's fine," Joel mutters, his voice sharp with vexation.

The topic of conversation changes when out of nowhere Troy slams his tray down onto the table and takes a seat next to Joel.

"Tommy if you roster me on with that Deacon son of a bitch one more time you'll have a homicide on your hands," Troy announces.

Troy greets Joel with a friendly slap to the shoulder before starting a diatribe about the latest incident to happen on patrol with Percy Deacon, one of the newly trained rangers that most of the others can't stomach.

Tommy chimes in occasionally while Joel partly listens to Troy's grievances. He continues to periodically observe you, careful not to look for too long lest Tommy teases him once more. Time passes and Joel finds himself actually starting to relax.

Until Oscar walks in.

Joel clocks Oscar the second he enters the crowded hall. He's talking to his friend, that Matt kid, but once his gaze lands on you he stops speaking completely. Oscar openly fixates on you, practically fawning over you.

How dare he fucking stare at you like that.

Joel watches you glance up and lock eyes with Oscar. You're transfixed on him for only a few moments, but the gesture is meaningful and intimate. It makes Joel's blood boil.

Tommy witnesses the loaded exchange and instantly knows what's going on.

"Joel--" Tommy begins to say, but Joel is already standing up and stalking over to your table.

A hush falls over your table when he approaches. He doesn't pay attention to any of your friends when he bends down to whisper in your ear.

"We're goin' - you got one minute to say goodbye. I'll be waitin' outside."

Joel strides out of the dining hall without looking back. The night air hits his face in a refreshing, chilly blast but it does nothing to dampen the jealous rage that burns through his whole body. His jaw clenches tight and his hands itch to punch something.

Soon Tommy is by his side, his barrel chest knocking against Joel's shoulder. "What the fuck was that, Joel?"

Joel glowers at him and just shakes his head, but Tommy can read his expression clearly.

"They're just friends. Ya can't stop people from bein' friendly, Joel." Tommy implores.

"I don't care. She ain't for him." Joel snarls.

"What are you gonna do, Joel?" Tommy hisses. "Gonna kill any man that looks at her? Lose your shit whenever things don't go your way?"

"You don't know a goddamn thing," Joel growls back. "You don't know what loss is, Tommy."

"I haven't been through loss like you have," Tommy's voice quivers slightly. "But I don't wanna see you go through it again, brother. And if you keep doin' this shit tryin' to protect her it could happen. Violence ain't the way to keep a person close to you."

"Didn't lose Ellie," Joel retorts firmly. Tommy immediately understands what Joel is implying and nods.

"Hell of alotta difference between a hospital of Fireflies and half the population of Jackson, Joel." Tommy argues back soberly.

"I'd do it all over again if I had to," Joel asserts.

"I knew it." A voice suddenly spits out. "I fuckin' knew it."

Joel and Tommy whirl around to see Ellie standing behind them. Joel feels his blood run cold in his veins at the sight of her young face scrunched in anger and betrayl.

"Ellie," he croaks pathetically. "I--"

"I hate you," she seethes, teeth clenched. "I fucking hate you."

Before he can even plead with her to let him explain Ellie is running away from the brothers, her figure disappearing into the night shadows like a creature fleeing from peril.

Joel wants to call out to her but his throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper. He can't hear what Tommy is saying over the rush of blood pumping in his ears. His heart is galloping so hard in his chest that he feels on the precipice of a heart attack. He stands frozen in place but his brain is a discombobulated mess of invasive thoughts.

Ellie knows about the Fireflies.

She hates you.

She fucking hates you.

You've lost her forever.

You failed her, just like you failed Sarah and Tess.

You've lost everything.

He cannot hear Tommy's panicked voice shouting his name. He can't see or feel his little brother grasping tight to his shoulders and shaking him. Joel's vision goes black and he can't breathe. All he can feel is his heart physically tear in half and his lungs crush under the weight of this catastrophic devastation. He's sure he's dying, that the sweet relief of eternal black is finally claiming him and ending his miserable existence on his earth.

But then your voice is pulling him back. You are calling his name over and over, your angelic voice piercing through the canvas of darkness with pinpricks of blinding white light. His senses seep back into his body one by one until he is aware of your hands cradling his face and your big worried orbs staring up into his.

Joel's vision clears and he is greeted by your own beautiful face. You look like an angel. His precious angel.

Overwhelming relief and adoration flood through his whole body.

I still have you, he wants to say. You're still here. I can't lose you, too.

"Joel, brother, are you alright?" Tommy is right beside him, brows knitted with worry.

"'M okay Tom," Joel is somehow able to mumble through the dissipating fog of dissociation. "'M fine."

Tommy retreats back a step and watches you embrace Joel and stroke his hair, as if soothing a spooked horse. Joel appears calm but the only coherent thought he can identify rattling around in his brain is to escape - to run away from Jackson and leave this life behind. He has nothing here now. You and he have nothing left here.

Joel abruptly takes hold of your bicep and stalks away from Tommy. You stumble in shock as he drags you but he doesn't stop. Tommy calls out to him, desperate and pleading, but his voice is nothing but white noise to Joel.

It's time for you to leave Jackson.

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littlewoodblack · 2 days

Text

Girl’s Night at The Burrow by Me ✨

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I wrote this when I was like 15 and originally posted it on wattpad, then ao3, and now this lovely platform.

FLUFF

My favorite fanfic theme, TENSION ❤️❤️

1.6k words

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Shouts and laughs fill the air of the Weasley’s living room, except they’re all emitted from loud and rowdy boys that should really be in bed right now. The only reason they aren’t is because Arthur persuaded Molly into letting them stay up until midnight seeing as it is summer break and on summer break, the children should be having fun.

“Get ready for bed, boys!” Molly’s voice echoes through the house from the kitchen.

“What? No way! It’s an hour till midnight, mum.” Ron rejected.

“I know dear,” she returned to her calm motherly voice, “It’s just for tonight, pip pip.”

I was handed an excruciatingly hot mug from her which appeared to be cocoa. Bye bye finger prints, now I’m free from the law, I guess. Ginny pushed her seat back with a sigh to excuse herself.

“No, no, Ginny sit back down, you’re staying here. So are you, Y/N.”

Ginny and I exchanged perplexed glances at one another as we mentally analyzed the passing week to discover anything we might have done wrong that we would be in trouble for. Molly walked away to the kitchen, presumably to make another hot chocolate for Ginny or herself.

In her absence, I whispered to Ginny, “did you do anything bad??”

“Nothing she knows about.” She whispered back, mirroring my clueless demeanor.

The second hot chocolate was placed on a coaster and slid to Ginny, who soon burnt her tongue.

“Now I know you’re wondering why I put everyone to bed”, a smug smirk appeared on her face and she placed her hand on her hips, “but it’s been ages since I’ve got to have a good girl talk and pampering. I brought a muggle face mask and- oh. Where do you suppose Hermione is at?”

“Did you tell her to stay down?” Ginny asked with an ice cube resting on her tongue.

“Oops.” Molly went to make yet another hot chocolate while I ran up to our room to find her, on the way being stopped in my tracks by George leaving the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped upon his waist and wet hair dripping water everywhere which Ron will probably step on later with socks by accident and throw a fit about. George is not the stoic and mysterious person he thinks he is, especially since the blushy tint of his cheeks was very obvious.

“Why have you not got any pajamas on yet?” He looked me up and down.

“Why’ve you not even got a shirt on?”

“Uh, well, do you like, wear your clothes in the shower or something?”

“Only when I’m feeling spontaneous.” With that sarcasm, I pushed past him in an attempt to hide the blush that I can definitely feel, and that he definitely noticed.

“MIONE!” I frantically knock on the door, internally withering away at the thought of George.

“BLIMEY, WHAT??” Her book falls to the floor when she reaches to hold her heart after being startled.

“Sorry. You’re not supposed to go to bed yet, we’re having a girls night.”

“Oh well okay”, she crawls out of bed, “wish I got the memo earlier, though”

She walks ahead of me with one of her blankets wrapped over her shoulders.

“Ah, good.” Molly waddles over to the table with more mugs and headbands are laid out already, along with a jar of bentonite clay. Hermione takes a seat and grabs the plush bunny headband.

“Y/N do you want the leopard print one or the bear one?” asks Ginny.

“Whatever one you don’t want”

She tosses me the leopard print one. “Damn.”

“If you wanted the bear one, you should have said so when I gave you the chance.” She rolls her eyes.

“No, no, the leopard print one is… nice.”

The hot chocolate is stubborn to cool off, but that’s never stopped me.

“So you fancy George?” Hermione is now applying the clay.

I nearly spat out my drink which would have been better than choking on it as I did. Ginny’s jaw dropped.

“I knew it!” Molly seems overjoyed as she slams her hands on the table.

“Hermione. I love you, but what the hell.”

She seems to be unconcerned- as if what relationship I could potentially have with George is clearly a matter of fact. How a scientist might discuss data.

“Sorry, isn’t that what you’re supposed to talk about at ‘girl time’?”

“Well… yeah, actually. I just wasn't expecting that in the slightest.”

“At least we know you wouldn’t be rejected.” Ginny says, also in a matter-of-fact tone while sipping her cocoa.

“Sorry?”

Molly is doing her best to withhold her glee, “Well it’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Oh come on! He never shuts up about you. Everybody knows about his crush on you.”

“Everybody except me, apparently???” I’m flabbergasted, “how do you know?”

“Oh, well I don’t know, maybe cause he shoves our stuff over to sit next to you, or cause he’s always staring at you, or cause he steals your stuff, or cause-”

“I think she gets it, mum.” Ginny interrupts.

“No, no, no keep going, keep going.”

“This is something I think is especially cute,” Molly scrunches her shoulders up, “when he knows you’re coming over, he cleans his room and puts on fresh clothes.”

“He does all the stuff in the book Y/N, honestly, come on” Ginny says.

Hermione adds, “And you eat it up, you just don’t know it.”

I put my face in my hands. “Hermione help me.”

“With what?”

“When I went up to get you I bumped into him after he got out of the shower and he was shirtless and I was a blushing mess and there’s no way he couldn’t have noticed.”

“Oh, so that’s what was wrong with you.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Flirt back.” Ginny shrugged.

“Easy for you to say.”

After Molly takes off her mask, she rips open a bag of what she calls “muggle chips” and pours them into a bowl so tackily decorated, you’d only find it in the china cabinet of a very old lady.

“Where’d you get all the muggle stuff?”

“Mostly Hermione, but the weird things laying around like this, uh…” she pokes at a pocket sized flashlight laid on the side table of the couch, “that’s Arthur.”

I get up and look out the window to see the surrounding field, filled with the chirps of crickets enjoying the summer air. Ginny follows. The moon hangs like a plate in the sky and stars are spattered in all directions around it.

“It’s the prettiest thing in the world”

“Not in George’s opinion.”

“Ginny, drop it!” I shot her a lightheartedly serious look and we went to sit back down.

Footsteps thumped down the stairs, and the room dropped to a dead silence. My back was to the rest of the house and I couldn’t see who approached, but given Ginny and Hermione’s wide-eyed stares into my soul and Molly covering her mouth with her hand, I could assume the worst. I heard water pour from the pitcher behind me.

“Pretty hopping party, huh?” George took a look around. “When I’m with my friends, I like to sit with my back perfectly straight in deafening silence too.”

“George, go to bed.” Molly was stern.

“But I wanna come to girls’ night.”

“You’re lacking some plumbing.” Ginny giggled.

“I can trash talk people just as well as you lot can.” He leaned onto my chair with his hand resting on my shoulder, still sipping water, “did you see Freddie’s outfit today, woof. As if we’re not dealing with enough right now.”

I folded over in my chair snickering. Unbeknownst to me, he looked at Ginny and mouthed a triumphant, “yes!” to her, delighted to make me laugh.

“Go!” Molly swatted him with a headband, which he dodged only with his hips and kept himself in the exact same spot.

“I keep telling him to stay away from yellows since they wash out his features, you know, but he never listens.

“George.”

“Alright, alright”

Once he had left, Hermione squealed, “That was so adorable!”

Ginny cheered, “Aww little Georgie’s in love.”

Again, with my face in my hands I gasped “Okay, you’re right, Mione.”

“About?”

“I like him. He makes my heart drop to my stomach when I see him. He has the cutest smile ever.”

“You should tell him!” Molly is ecstatic.

“Maybe. Maybe one day.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows, “If you put it off too long, then I’m going to tell him myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I gotta pee, I’ll be right back.”

I abruptly left my seat and walked to the bathroom for a second alone to have a reality check. The hallway to the bathroom matches the scrappy but warm vibe of the house with hanging hand-knit tapestries adorning the wall and random shoes shoved to the corners of the floor.

“OH-” I let out a yelp.

“Shh” said George, who apparently was lingering around the corner the whole time.

“You nosy little-”

He cut me off with a kiss. His hands gripped on my cheeks and my hips. If I weren’t as stunned as I am, I might have noticed the warmth and smooth texture of his lips, or his strong frame holding me up, or even the cologne he wears just for me.

“You have a cute smile, too.”

“You’re pathetic, George.” I lay my head into his collarbones.

Into my ear, he whispers, “I love you”, then retreats back to his bedroom, blowing a kiss on the way.

“Good night.”

#molly weasley #george weasly x reader #reality shift #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #fanfiction #fanfic #shifting community #weasley twins #ginny weasley #george weasley #hermione granger #platonic #romantic #tension #shiftblr

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cetaitlaverite · 3 days

Text

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

masterlist is linked here <3

20. All My Life

The sky was grey with the threat of rain. It had been sunny this morning. But it was March and even though spring was close it still wasn’t close enough. Before dinner, Freddie thought, the world would be soaked.

She called for Meatball to hurry up as he wandered around in the grass outside the mess hall, trying to find an adequate spot to relieve himself. It was a habit of his she found endlessly infuriating - how many hours of her life had she racked up by now simply watching Meatball walk around and around and around, searching for the perfect spot just to squat in the grass?

Freddie squinted up into the sky again. It was almost certainly going to rain.

“Meatball, buddy,” Freddie pleaded with him, pulling her sleeves down over her hands. “Hurry up.” It was chilly today, too. In the week since Rosie’s last mission the weather had looked like it was turning; it had been all sunshine and premature warmth ever since. But it was turning back now, it seemed. Rain and a chill in the air. They were right back where they started.

Freddie felt Rosie’s eyes on her before he was anywhere near her. There was a particular weight in his gaze whenever he looked at her which she could always sense. He had a talent for making her feel like the most special person in the world with nothing more than a glance.

She turned to watch him approach, smiling in anticipation of having him close.

“Hi,” she greeted when he was finally near enough to hear her. She reached for him, tugging him towards her the rest of the way, and pushed up on her tiptoes for a kiss he gladly gave her.

He was smiling when they pulled apart. He lifted both hands to brush her hair out of her face, then cupped her cheeks to kiss her again.

“Hi,” he whispered once he was satisfied.

Just because she could, she reached up to kiss him once more. She had to make the most of having him close, she knew. Any day now he’d be returning to the States and she wanted to remember what it had been like to live in the bliss of his nearness.

This kiss was longer, deeper, slower. A kiss which might have been trying to start something had they not been standing right outside the mess hall and waiting for Meatball to go to the toilet.

Flushed and breathless, Freddie pulled back to catch her breath and ran her hands up and down his arms over his leather A-2 jacket. “Hi,” she said again.

Rosie was grinning. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“You’re early to dinner today,” Freddie said, adjusting the fit of his jacket. She loved seeing him in this jacket. It suited him incredibly well. Perhaps the only thing she loved more than seeing Rosie wear it was wearing it herself, with nothing underneath as they spent quality time together in his plane.

Rosie hummed his acceptance of this observation. “Croz said I might find you here.”

Freddie brightened. “You were looking for me?”

Rosie laughed. “I’m always looking for you.”

“Well, you found me,” she sing-songed quietly. Her smile turned coy as she tilted her head.

“Found you even more beautiful than I left you,” Rosie said.

Freddie smiled brighter, quirking a sly brow at him. “Oh? And what are you going to do about it?”

Rosie laughed, using his hands on her waist to tug her closer and press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Later,” he promised, punctuating the statement with one more long kiss. “I came out here to talk to you about something.”

“You came out here to talk?” Freddie asked with a mock gasp. “So boring,” she teased. “I forget you’re a lawyer at heart.”

Rosie rolled his eyes fondly. “Seriously, Fred, I gotta talk to you.”

Freddie nodded, accepting his seriousness. “Alright,” she conceded. She turned to find Meatball still wandering around in the grass and sighed. “I’d say let’s go to my office but Meatball’s still taking his sweet time, so let’s just stay here. Hopefully it won’t rain before he’s finished.”

Rosie smiled a little bit, following her eyes briefly to the Siberian Husky with his nose to the ground before turning back to her. “Right. I just wanted to talk about the brass upping the end of tour requirements.”

“Oh,” Freddie said, with a somewhat confused smile. “Okay.”

After the two of them had returned to the officers’ club on the evening of Rosie’s twenty-fifth mission, Jack had revealed that the American Air Force brass were upping the requirements for the number of missions which would constitute a full tour. Previously, it had been twenty-five. Now, it was twenty-eight for existing crews and thirty for replacements arriving from this week onwards. Rosie and his Riveters were safe, among the very last to meet the previous requirements, but henceforth the twenty-fifth mission would be cause for no more celebration than any other mission survived.

It was cruel, Freddie thought, to do that to them so late in the game. But at least Rosie was safe. He would be back stateside soon and she would no longer have to worry.

“I been thinking about it a lot,” Rosie said, regarding the increase in requirements.

Freddie nodded. She figured he would be. It was inevitable he’d feel some sort of guilt about it, being one of the last to get away with the twenty-five, but he was lucky and he had to hold onto that - they both did. He was getting to go home. How many men had gone down dreaming of the same thing?

“I, uh,” Rosie went on, “I just got done talking to Colonel Bennett.”

Freddie’s eyebrows furrowed. Now she had no idea where he was going with his. Still, her hands continued smoothing up and down his arms while his continued smoothing up and down her back, the gestures calming both of them.

“I’ve decided to re-up,” Rosie said.

Freddie’s hands froze.

“I talked to the colonel and he’s allowing it,” Rosie continued. He was smiling slightly down at her. “He promoted me to major so I’ll be the new commanding officer for the 350th. Means I can help all the new boys, Fred, and keep ‘em alive. And I’ll be sticking around. We don’t have to say goodbye anymore.”

It was a few moments before Freddie found her voice. When she did it emerged choked, the back of her throat suddenly dry. “I think I’m confused.”

“By which part, honey?” Rosie asked gently. He lifted one of his hands to cup her cheek.

“By all of it,” Freddie replied, shaking her head. Her hands were holding on tight to his arms now, as if it was that grip alone keeping her upright. “You’re a major? And you’re leading?” She frowned. “You mean in air exec?”

“No, honey,” Rosie told her quietly. He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb, ducking his head to better meet her eyes. “I’m re-upping. I’m gonna get back in the plane and finish what I started.”

Freddie shook her head dumbly. “You’re re-upping?” Her voice didn’t sound like it belonged to her. It sounded far away, somehow, like it was coming from where Meatball was still wandering around in the grass.

“Yeah.” He stroked her cheek again, his eyes searching hers for a sign of how she was feeling.

Her eyes evaded him. They were stuck staring at the name patch on his jacket. “You’re going to fly again?”

“Yeah.”

“How many times?”

“Until the job is done.”

Freddie started gnawing on her bottom lip. Her hands were only gripping onto his jacket tighter and tighter. “I don’t understand.”

Rosie sighed. “I know it’s a lot to take in all at once, Fred, so do you just wanna sit with it and -”

“Do I just want to sit with it?” Her hands fell away from him. She took a step back. “No, Rosie, I don’t want to sit with it, I want to wake up from whatever nightmare I’ve fallen into.”

“Fred -”

“I don’t understand, Rosie.” She swallowed hard, a vain attempt to clear the thick lump lodged in the back of her throat. “I don’t understand why you would do this to me.”

“Fred, honey, I’m not -” He sighed in frustration as he tried to explain himself. “I just couldn’t live with myself if I left like this. The war is nowhere close to finished and they’re just gonna keep on sending in replacements, and all of ‘em will get ‘emselves killed. But I’ve got the experience and I’ve got the talent to bring myself back and I can lead them, Fred. It’s - it’s not as bad as you think.”

“It’s exactly as bad as I think,” Freddie disputed him lowly. When he tried to close the distance between them she took several steps back, refusing him the closeness. “You know what your twenty-fifth meant to me. And you go and you give it all up without even consulting me, without telling me you were ever thinking about it? You tell me once you’ve already gone and done it and I’m just expected to live with it?”

“Nothing’s going to change,” Rosie insisted. With every step he took towards her she took another step back until he conceded her the distance, stopping still in his tracks. “Everything will be the exact same as it has been the entire time I’ve been here. I’ll go up and then I’ll come back down and everything will be fine, honey. It’ll be fine.”

“You can’t promise me that!” Freddie argued. “Daniel used to tell me the same thing! He made me all the same promises you do and he didn’t want to break them any more than you do, but he still did!”

“What happened to Daniel isn’t gonna happen to me, Fred.” His voice was pleading with her, now, to stop arguing and to let him explain and to see it from his perspective. But it didn’t matter how he phrased it, Freddie wasn’t going to agree. How could she? He’d taken away the one bit of happiness she thought was promised to her. She’d been holding on so tight to him for so long, terrified every time he went out on a mission, and the instant she loosened her grip, certain she no longer had to worry, was the instant he himself wrenched himself out of her grasp and straight back into harm’s way.

“How could you possibly know that?!” Freddie demanded.

“Because I’m -” Rosie cut himself off and looked away from her.

Freddie knew exactly what he had meant to say. “Because you’re a better pilot than he is?” she asked him quietly.

“No,” Rosie began slowly, calmly, trying to pick his words carefully.

Freddie cut across him. “No, if that’s what you wanted to say then say it.”

Rosie turned his eyes back to her. Now he was looking at her hard. It was clear he was getting frustrated. “Just give yourself some time to think about it, Fred,” he eventually replied. “We’ll talk when you’re ready.”

“No,” Freddie said.

Rosie’s eyebrows furrowed. “No?”

“No,” she reasserted. “I’ve thought about it all I need to think about it. And I think you’re making a mistake.”

“I would regret it for the rest of my life if I went home,” Rosie told her seriously.

“But at least it would be a long life,” Freddie contended. “At least you’d have a life to think back on.”

“I’ll still come back to you the same way I always do.”

“No,” Freddie told him. “You won’t. You might come back here but you won’t come back to me.”

His entire face dropped. Gone was the frustration, replaced by panic. “Wait, Fred -”

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Freddie asked slowly. She had her arms crossed as she considered him. Her face was carefully blank.

Rosie held her gaze but he was clearly struggling to do so. “Since the party.”

“The party to celebrate your twenty-fifth?” Freddie checked.

Rosie nodded.

A week and a day. It had been a week and a day since then. And the first she was hearing of it was once the decision had already been made. He had spoken to Colonel Bennett about it before he had spoken to her.

“Does Pappy know?”

“Not yet.”

Freddie nodded. “Right.” She didn’t make any move to say anything else.

Rosie took a tiny, cautious step towards her. “What are you thinking, honey?”

Freddie scoffed. She turned her eyes on the field where Meatball was chasing flies.

“Fred, please let me in,” Rosie pleaded softly. “What are you thinking?”

Slowly, she turned her eyes back on him. “I’m thinking,” she said, “that we have had sex almost every night since that party. I’m thinking that you let me give myself to you over and over again and not once did you think to talk to me about your plans.”

“Fred -”

“I’m thinking that you didn’t tell me because you knew I’d be upset, and if I was upset you wouldn’t want to go through with it. So you went behind my back and made sure it was all organised before finally working up the courage to tell me. I’m thinking that you’re a coward.”

“Freddie, come on -”

“I gave all of myself to you, Robert Rosenthal. My heart and my body and my soul, when I was well-prepared to never give myself to any man ever again. And you have let me continue giving myself to you knowing that you don’t deserve it. Every step I ever took with you, you’re - you’re throwing it back in my face.” Her hands were shaking with rage. Her heart was pounding with panic. Her cheeks were hot with humiliation.

“You have played with me,” she went on. “Like some sort of fucking toy. Like you just wanted to prove to yourself and to everyone else that you could finally be the one to turn my head and now you’re kicking me in the dirt.”

Rosie closed the gap between them in seconds, his hands grasping at her waist before she leaped out of the way.

“No,” she snapped. “Don’t touch me. I don’t want you anywhere near me. Don’t look at me, don’t talk to me, don’t talk about me. This, whatever it was between us, it’s finished. Do you hear me, Rosie? It’s done. Congratulations. I hope getting to jetset around Europe in your metal deathtrap is worth it, because I’ll hate you all my life for this.”

She turned and she ran and Meatball followed. He’d been at her side the moment she’d started to raise her voice.

The two of them ran all the way to the wireless operators’ hut, Meatball hot on Freddie’s heels as she all but collapsed through both doors. She threw herself onto Millie’s bed and sobbed, loud and screaming, into her pillow. Meatball sat whimpering at her feet.

She was in the bathroom when the first of the girls came back. It was Emma, and she stopped short in the doorway as soon as she heard the retching.

“Millie!” Emma called, frantic as she started to push back through the gaggle of wireless ops. “Mils! Or Jem?!”

“Here!” Millie called back, jogging the rest of the way to the door to Emma. “What’s wrong?”

“Fred - she’s - she’s in the toilet and -”

Millie didn’t need any more explanation than that. She pushed past Emma, pushed past everyone else, and found Freddie throwing up in the nearest toilet stall. And with no questions asked she fell to her knees behind Freddie and held her hair back, rubbing her back with her other hand and murmuring that she was there and she would be staying as long as Freddie needed her.

“He’s re-upping,” were the first words out of Freddie’s mouth when she found a reprieve. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and slumped back against the stall’s wall, drenched in sweat.

“He’s re-upping?” Millie repeated.

Freddie nodded, shutting her eyes and breathing heavily through her nose. “Now that the American brass have upped the tour requirements he’s decided he’s the only pilot capable of bombing the Nazis, and they’ve rewarded his stupidity with a promotion. He’s leading them into his own death.”

Millie sighed. “What did you say to him?”

“I called it all off,” Freddie said simply.

“Fred -”

“He’s been having sex with me knowing he was going to do it and not once did he say anything. He told me today after getting it all organised with Colonel Bennett.” Freddie scoffed a low, bitter laugh. “How can he have told me he loves me while knowing he was about to betray me?”

Millie didn’t say anything.

Freddie opened her eyes to gauge her reaction.

If Millie sided with Rosie, Freddie thought her heart might just collapse in on itself. She had lost one love of her life. Then, against all odds, she had found another. And Rosie had promised to protect her and love her and take care of her and in one fell swoop he had not only taken all of it back but ruined the rest of her life. She would not find a third man. She didn’t want to. Every ounce of trust she had left she had given to Rosie and he had flushed it down the toilet.

But Millie didn’t side with Rosie. “Fuck him,” she said.

“Unfortunately, I did,” Freddie replied.

Millie let out a reluctant laugh. “Well, fuck him metaphorically. If he dares to try to talk to you it’ll be the last thing he ever does.”

“I don’t want him to talk to me or to look at me or to even breathe in my general direction,” Freddie asserted. “I don’t want to have to be reminded that he even exists. He can go and fly his missions and he can never come back and it will make absolutely no difference to me. He’s dead to me already.”

Millie looked like she wanted to say something but she decided against it at the last moment. Instead, she clamped her mouth shut. But when Jem appeared in the doorway, wary and cautious, to ask what had happened, Millie explained it all in Freddie’s stead, then rubbed her back as she threw up one more time. And when Jem went into a rage to rival Freddie's, no one stopped her.

#watm #mota #my writing #masters of the air #masters of the air x oc #masters of the air fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction #hbo war #hbo war x oc #rosie rosenthal #robert rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #rosie rosenthal fanfic #rosie rosenthal fanfiction

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petew21-blog · 1 hour

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Life upgrade

Hi, I am Earl Montgomery. I am 34 year old gay man. I studied history and enhlish literature at Columbia and then I became a teacher. I have been working as a teacher since than and I have to say that being a teacher is one of the most honorable proffesions there are. You get to educate all the young minds and set them on a right path in life. If only they would listen to me during classes. Maybe my life wouldn't be so boring. The job takes all my energy. I never believed that so many teachers get burnt out, but man. Once you see that your job affects only few of those kids and the rest just doesn't care, you contemplate back on your life. What could I have done different? I could have had a happy, adventurous life full of fun and sex. Oh how I miss the sex.

Oh sorry, my bad. You thought the guy wearing sports clothes is me? Oh no no no. This is me actually

That guy is Barry. The gym teacher. He's the same age as me. But his life is much better. He works as a gym teacher, coach and in his free time he is a personal trainer in gym. He gets to coach all the hot bodybuilders and sometimes women, that lust over him a later on sleep with him.

I onced tried to hit on him, thinking he might be bisexual, but ended up being ignored for the rest of the school year. He started talking to me again recently and that's fine. If there is no drama it's all good. Besides. He has his own life full of sport and travelling around the world, fucking everything that moves. And I have my own life. My slightly boring and depresive life.

Who am I kidding? I hate my life. I wish I were Barry. To have his hot body, his libido, his life full of travellling and fucking everyone.

Suddenly it was so bright all around me. I was in a garage. Running. I stopped. Where am I? Why am I running? How did I get here?

I looked around but the place was empty. Then I looked down and saw the grey clothes for sport that Barry has. "This can't be". I walked over to the nearest car and saw Barry. No, I saw my reflection.

"Well well well. Can't ignore me now, huh?" I flexed my biceps over the shirt. So freaking hot. He is so buff. Must be amazing to be so strong and have strong muscles like this. His skin is so tense and beautiful. I gotta go somewhere more private to look what he's hiding under this. Don't know how this freaky friday will last.

Vibration in my pocket. Some girls want to have a private class with me in the gym. But the emojis don't seem like they want to take the training very seriously. Might be fun.

"Flex for the camera. Perfect!"

"Omg Barry, you're really hot. How did you get so big?"

"You think this is big... you haven't seen all of me yet. Haha" Where the hell was this coming from? Why did I say that?

"Really? We were actually thinking you coul help us stretch some time and show us how to do this to not hurt ourselves."

"I can stretch you both now in the showers, babes" Whyyy am I saying this. I'm not straight for fucks sake. Oh no. I'm not, but Barry is. I need to get back. I can't be straight.

1 hour later

"Thanks Barry. What a great personal class. Haha. Same time next week?" the taller oned asked while walking away from the gym

"You bet!" the sex was really good I have to admit that. But only this body craves it. Not me. I am gay, I don't want to watch pussy all day.

Phone vibrated again

Holy shit, A message from my number:"Hey, I don't know what you did to me, but I just jerked off for the third time thinking about my own body and I can't keep doing this... I want to swa... SUUCK your dick"

Oh maan, he has the same problem as I do. His body responds to what the person craved before, bout our minds didn't change our sexual orientation it seems.

"Came to your body's place in 30 minutes. Bring lube. Don't be late" I texted. I love this confidence the body is so full off.

And I bet I am gonna love the fact that my old body is gonna suck my dick very soon.

Haha. Gotta thank the istock photos for the inspiration

Story from inbox: Would you be able to do a story where a nerdy teacher swaps bodies with the hunky football coach. Maybe even cucking him?

#straight to gay #gay to straight #body swap #body switch #male body swap

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metagalacticx · 2 years

Text

#liam dunbar you will always be famous #liam go brrrr #so young #liam dunbar #teen wolf #number nine on my chest like yes #my rebrand into a liam dunbar stan account is going so well #personally i would like to talk about only him for the rest of this week #only him #he so smol help

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criminalamnesia · 3 months

Note

that 141 x reader you just did was so good! i need to know what happens next. like after reader is better, do they stay in the military? stay in 141? or do they take a discharge? I’m not the original ask but it was just so good.

love your writing btw!

thank you! here’s part two :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you were beginning to hate the infirmary.

the white walls. the moans of pain. the smell of bleach and blood.

the reminder of why you were here. of who put you here.

your friends. your family. your team. john. johnny. kyle. simon.

you’d told the doctor to not let your teammates in, and she had tried, but there was only so much she could do. she couldn’t monitor the door all the time, and so a week after waking up from your coma, john price is sitting at your beside once again.

his hands are clasped together, knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. he’s leaning forward, elbows resting on the bed, hands under his chin. his position conveys his regret and worry. he looks like he should be in church, knelt between the pews and spewing silent prayers to a god that isn’t listening.

you haven’t spoken to him since he sat down ten minutes ago. the second you saw him step inside the infirmary, you knew he was there for you. there to try and speak to you, to apologize.

fuck him and his apologies.

you turned your head to the side, eyes staring at the white curtain separating your bed from the next. you studied the stitching while you listened to him breathe next to you. he hadn’t spoken either— just sat down and watched you.

it made your skin crawl, how he thought this was okay. how he thought this would be the way to get back into your good graces.

he clears his throat then, a sound you’ve heard a million times before. it makes you want to gag now.

“love,” his voice is soft, caring. you want to hit him in the jaw.

“can we talk? please?”

you don’t turn over, don’t even spare him a glance. you keep your gaze trained on the curtain. the only giveaway that he has your attention is the fists you clench at your sides.

he takes the silence as an invitation, that bastard.

“what happened—” he begins, then grunts. stops. takes a second, then begins again.

“what we did,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “it wasn’t right. the intel was from a trusted source. we—” he sighs then, and you can tell he’s rubbing his temple. he did that when he was stressed. when he was anxious.

“we were wrong to believe them over you, love. and im— im sorry.”

silence ensues. you don’t give him any indication that you’ve heard what he said. he sighs again, inhaling deeply.

“you’re still part of this team. johnny and gaz, they’ve been sitting outside this damn room like sentries. can barely pry ‘em away for drills.” he chuckles then, but it’s sad. pitiful. mournful.

“there’s nothing we can do to make this right,” he tells you. you’re still mulling over what he said about johnny and gaz. still hung up on the fact that he didn’t mention simon at all.

simon, who did the most damage to you, both psychologically and physically. simon, who shared your bed. simon.

simon, who is too much of a coward to face you for his crimes.

“but we want to try,” price is speaking again. “if you’ll let us.”

he stops talking. waits a beat, then two. then, you hear his chair scrape. he’s getting up, and that’s when you turn your head to face him.

he looks bad. bags under the eyes, skin pale, beard overgrown. you think he deserves this. deserves worse than this. his eyes meet yours, and they widen the tiniest bit at the attention you’re showing him.

your voice is full of venom as you speak.

“nothing,” you seethe, angry tears blurring your vision. “will ever undo what you did to me. what he did to me.”

price knows you’re talking about simon. the whole team knew you were a thing. hell, when they’d strapped you to that chair and debated who would ‘interrogate’ you, they hadn’t even thought to include simon. why would he want to torture the person he loved?

to their surprise, he had volunteered to take point.

“when i get out of this bed,” you continue. “im gone. and i never, never, want to see any of you again, or else im putting a fucking bullet between your eyes.”

the captain doesn’t speak. you can see the remorse on his face. you couldn’t care less about his feelings.

he gives a short nod, and without another word, he turns and leaves the room.

after john’s visit, no one else tries to visit you. you no longer catch glimpses of kyle or johnny outside the infirmary door. you’re glad they’re starting to get the hint.

but you’re still getting flowers. you don’t know where they’re coming from. sometimes they’re dropped off by a nurse, other times they appear in the morning after a restless sleep. there’s never a note. never anything to suggest who would be leaving them.

you know it’s one of the 141, but you don’t know exactly who. you feel certain it’s not simon.

but, unbeknownst to you, it is him. he knows you don’t want to see him— to see any of them. price had told them all about what you’d said to him during your talk.

price had also told them that he’d already started preparing your transfer papers. that had caused an uproar from soap, who’d quickly been quieted by a saddened price.

simon had expected it. expected worse, actually. he knew that if the roles had been reversed, he wouldn’t have been as merciful as you. it made him hate what they’d done to you so much more.

there had been the tiniest doubt in his mind when all the evidence pointed to you. he hadn’t believed it at first— and then things became damning. everything pointed to you. trusted sources were pointing their fingers at you, and everyone listened. he had listened.

he had volunteered to torture you because he’d been angry. rage he hadn’t felt in years bubbled to the surface of his skin, and he wanted to tear you limb from limb. how dare you come into their lives— his life— and betray them so substantially?

simon didn’t trust easily. he was battered and broken and scarred. shattered and malformed pieces hastily glued back together. he let the team in. let you in. let you see his face. let you into his bed. let you into his fucking heart.

and you turned around and drove a dagger into him. or so he thought.

he thought his anger and actions had been justified. thought he was doing the world a favor by butchering you. but he was wrong. the team was wrong.

he finds himself regretting how he hadn’t listened to your pleas, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.

he knows the chances of you forgiving him, of letting him back into your life, are slim to none. but how could he not at least try?

you’d know each other for years. been together for years. all of it thrown away because he still knew the hurt of betrayal all too well. because it was too easy to fall back into the mindset that it was him against everyone. that the only person he knew, the only one he could rely on, was himself.

so he left flowers. your favorite ones. and he did so without making you face him, without apologizing or groveling. it was the least he owed you.

a month after your coma, you were finally allowed out of the infirmary. you were still healing, skin still tender and bruised. pink, jagged scars lining your skin; eternal reminders of the pain you’d been subjected to.

you’d been given a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, which you’d pulled on with much fuss. every time you struggled or stumbled, you found yourself getting angry. angry at the men who did this to you.

the anger was going to eat you alive, at least that’s what the psychologist that had been dropping by to see you had said. she’d told you you need to let it go, and you’d laughed in her face.

how do you let something like this go?

you didn’t know. you didn’t think you were strong enough to do that. not a good enough person to forgive the men that had carved into you.

once you had dressed, you shuffled out into the hallway. you’d profusely denied an escort, and the doctor had reluctantly acquiesced. she’d let you go, with just the promise that you’d keep your iv hooked in.

so here you were, trudging down the halls of the base, iv pole rattling along behind you.

you could feel eyes on you, but no one dared to get too close. you were glad. you didn’t want more empty apologies and sympathetic words.

you still remembered the way to price’s office like the back of your hand. you doubted you’d ever forget it.

time and time again you’d found yourself here. sometimes, getting reprimanded. others, congratulated. a few times you’d shown up in tears, and price had let you in without a word.

now you were standing outside his door, trying to contain the rage in your veins.

you raised a hand. knocked once, firm and loud.

“come in!” price called from inside.

you were already twisting the door knob, pushing into the room.

your eyes found price first. he was leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. his hat was absent from his head, instead resting beside him on the desk.

and then you noticed simon.

he was wearing all black. his hands were covered, bones decorating the black gloves. gloves you’d seen many times before. gloves that had been pressed to gunshots, trying to stop the bleeding.

the lower half of his face was covered, allowing you to see from his eyes up. his sandy blonde hair was ruffled.

you quickly turned your attention back to price.

“love, what are you doin’ here? you should be in bed—” he began, but you waved a hand as you stepped further into the room. you pulled your iv pole in behind you, then kicked the door shut.

“don’t talk, just listen. i still mean what i said when you came to visit. the only reason im here right now is because you haven’t put in for my fucking transfer.” you hissed.

the captain’s eyes widened, his face taking on a sheepish expression at the revelation that he’d been caught. simon stood quietly beside him, eyes trained on you. you ignored him.

“love, i didn’t want to do anything before you were ready—” he began. you cut him off.

“bullshit! you didn’t want to do anything because you don’t want me to leave. you want me to forgive you, right? hear you all out? come back and be a happy little family again?”

the room fell eerily silent as you stared at the captain. your heart was roaring in your ears.

“put in the fucking transfer, john.” you finished.

he reluctantly nodded. he inhaled, his eyes glancing at his lieutenant briefly, before he spoke again.

“of course, love. ‘m sorry.”

you didn’t say anything else. you turned to go, your back to the men, when simon’s voice cut through the air.

“you should be respectful to your captain, sergeant.”

you froze as you took in his words. was he fucking serious?

you didn’t turn around. you trained your eyes on the door as you spoke words through gritted teeth.

“you should watch your tongue, lieutenant, before I fucking cut it off.”

with that, you pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, slamming it loudly behind you.

author’s note:

apologies for the wait! I hope everyone enjoyed! (this is being posted before proofreading, so I hope it’s okay— I’ll read through it later, it’s just late and im tired lol)

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hotchscvm · 10 months

Text

three cents

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: talks of big dick energy, prostitution if you squint, red wine, gray sweatpants (mentioned)

Girls' night out was wild, no one knew where you would end up. One night, you ended up on a boat and the next you were on a train to NYC. After getting thrown in jail with Emily, JJ, and Penelope during another night out, you all vowed to keep whatever happened during the night a secret from everyone, specifically Derek Morgan. Derek Morgan who had bailed all four of you out of jail, Derek Morgan who teased you relentlessly for weeks after.

After a long case, Emily suggested another girl’s night which all of you agreed on, desperately needing a celebratory drink after saving a little girl. It was around one in the morning when you got back to Quantico and though Aaron gave you the day off for tomorrow–or well, later today–all four of you decided to crash at Emily’s and drink to your heart’s content.

Popcorn and Hersey kisses lay on Emily’s coffee table, bottles of half-empty wine and jello shots litter the floor and you’re all giggling about whether to prank Derek by getting phone cases with a picture of him shirtless. You’re all on board and Penelope is getting them custom-made through a website she’s found.

“Speaking of Derek’s abs.” JJ drags the ‘s’ creating a hissing noise. She turns to you, grinning. “I’ve wanted to ask ever since you went to that Doctor Who convention with him. Do you like like Spence?”

You giggled, taking a small sip of wine, thinking about the genius. “Noooo. Spence is my friend. And he runs with his gun like it’s weighing him down. Besides, I only went to that Doctor Who convention because he went to see Barbie with me. He’s, like, too young for me, too.”

“He’s older than you.” Emily points out, smirking, knowing full well you liked older men. “He’s adorable and sweet.”

“Spencer is definitely cute and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a sex dream about him,” you confessed, smiling as the girls burst out laughing. “But he’s too … inexperienced. I like my men like I like my wine. Old.”

Your phone had been on mute since you entered the plane, not wanting to abruptly wake anyone up if they were resting, so not a single person in the room had heard your phone ringing or Aaron’s multiple “hello’s” trying to get your attention. All of you were oblivious to your boss listening in to the conversation.

“Is Rossi too old for you?” Penelope asked, inciting another round of giggles.

You nodded, finishing off your glass of wine. “Just a bit. I’ve seen pictures of him when he was in the Marines though, and I definitely would’ve been the fourth Mrs. Rossi back then.”

Emily cackled, a bit of red wine spilling from her full glass. “Okay, I have a question. Would you guys fuck Hotch for ten million dollars? Be honest here.”

“No!” both JJ and Penelope spit out. They all turned to you, grinning like madmen.

You shrugged, filling another glass. “I’d do it for three.”

“Damn, three million? That’s–“

“Nope,” you smirked, taking a sip.

Emily paused, head tilting in confusion. “Three … hundred thousand?”

“No.”

“Three thousand?”

You shake your head, grinning at the confused woman. “Nope.”

“Three hundred?”

“No.”

Emily’s eyes widened, jaw-dropping a little further as you denied her guesses. “Three dollars?”

“No.”

“THREE CENTS?” JJ was the one to shout, mouth dropping open when you giggled and nodded.

Penelope threw a pillow at you, and you giggled, dodging it, nearly spilling your drink in the process. “Hey! This is supposed to be a judge-free zone. I’d suck and fuck Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner for three measly cents.”

“Okay, I’d understand if you said Derek but Hotch?” Emily exclaimed, shaking her head at the thought. “He’s like twenty years older than you!”

“Exactly! That’s part of the appeal,” you replied. You were sure by tomorrow no one would remember your confession–though you were positive you wouldn’t either–and that they wouldn’t tease you too much over it. “He’s the literal definition of a DILF.”

The girls laughed at your words, JJ having to clutch onto a pillow to control herself.

“And!” you continue. “I was working out with Derek once and Hotch came in the gym with gray sweats and his dick looks humongous. It was a huge fucking bulge. I think I saw it twitching.”

Penelope slaps her hands over her ears, playfully grimacing at your words while Emily chugs the remains of her glass, absolutely baffled. You didn’t mind, sex and boys were common conversation topics during girl’s night (and sometimes when Emily would catch you making eyes at someone.

The rest of the night continued the same, though less talk about Hotch’s big dick and more on whether you all should make more jello shots. By the time you’re coming up with an answer, it’s five in the morning and all four of you are knocked out from the alcohol in your system. Even in your drunk state, you knew you’d wake up to a pounding headache.

When Derek calls in the morning, telling everyone about a new case, you’re all moody and grumpy. Hotch wanted everyone in even though he had given the day off, so no one was jumping for joy especially not in your hangover state.

Despite drinking the most, Emily drives the four of you back to the BAU, mumbling obscenities under her breath on the way. When you enter the elevator, Derek is there, causing all of you to groan at his presence. One look at you and he laughs loudly, knowing what had transpired the night before.

You wish you could shoot his foot.

In the briefing room, Hotch apologizes for having you all come in on your day off, pausing to glance at you before presenting the case. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid that much attention to it, your headache taking up your attention. Fire, serial arsonist, fifteen dead, Seattle.

“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch announces, walking across the table. As the team filters out of the room, he calls your name. “In my office, please. I want to discuss something with you.”

Confused, you follow him to his office, pushing through your headache to think about what he could possibly want to speak to you about. You come up blank, even more confused when you see him lock the door to his office as you enter. “Did I do something wrong?”

Hotch shook his head, moving past you to his desk. He picks up something and turns around. In his hands are three pennies, and he’s holding them out to you. “Three cents.”

You’re getting deja vu on the words, and it’s not until several seconds of standing in silence and confusion that it clicks. Three cents. You blush, looking at the pennies. “I don’t understand.”

“You said you’d suck and fuck me for three cents,” he smirks at your shock, placing the coins in your hands.

“What–”

Hotch unbuckles his belt, causing you to stop mid-sentence. “You’ve got twenty-eight minutes to suck my cock. Get to work.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner smut

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notafunkiller · 7 months

Text

What if I am too much?

Summary: When Sam's girlfriend calls you clingy, you decide to give Bucky some space. What you don’t know is that he doesn’t want any space. None at all.

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, angst, teasing, language, pet names, spanking, daddy kink, metal arm kink, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 2.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I want to thank @marvelouslizzie for her help!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

“Oh, you’re alone?”

You turn your head in the direction of the voice and smile politely. You don’t recognize this woman, but she looks at you like she does.

“Uh, yes. Hello!”

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

You instantly blush, ashamed, and search for Bucky’s face in the crowd. Nowhere to be found. Damn it!

“No, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says before coming next to you. “I’m Misty.” Brunette, tall and beautiful.

“Where did we meet?”

“Sam’s birthday, but I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You were too busy clinging to Bucky’s side all night.” She sounds serious, and you freeze, having no idea where this came from. She simply laughs, grabbing your arm with some kind of bionic cold hand for a second before letting it go.

It’s not like Bucky’s. It’s more... robotic.

“Clinging?” You ask confused.

“Yeah, you know, always sitting with him, holding his arm, following him around.”

You puff, already annoyed by this random woman. “Following him around? I’m not a dog!”

“Didn’t say you are a dog, honey. Just pointing out the obvious.”

You try to hold your tongue, pushing aside the impulse to start a fight. This is a night about Bucky. Not you or your discomfort. And she is his ex-co-worker-friend’s girlfriend. Your anger can wait.

“Alright, but how does my clinging affect you, though?”

“Oh, don’t take it so personally! I just meant to be friendly. It’s a girl’s advice. Live a little, being insecure is not gonna save your relationship.”

A piece of advice no one asked for. A take you never even considered. You’re not insecure and you’re definitely not keeping Bucky to your side all the time. You don’t… He is free to do whatever the hell he wants.

“Thank you.”

She has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t be so defensive, honey! Gonna get a cocktail, want some?”

You shake your head, feeling a hole in your stomach after she leaves you alone, and you basically run to the bathroom, trying to calm down. What if she is right, though? What if Sam heard or saw something? Maybe Bucky is extra grumpy or unhappy. Maybe he even complained…

You never thought sitting with Bucky is a sign of clinginess. You thought it’d help... he is not the most comfortable person at events. He gets stared at a lot, he hates small talk, and you really like being close to him. Gosh, you are clingy!

The rest of the night passes like a blur. When you come back, Bucky’s waiting for you, and despite your instinct to wrap your arm around his back and let him hold you, you keep a little distance, giving Sam and his nosy girlfriend a fake smile, while Bucky keeps staring at you strangely.

You even manage to avoid touching him all week somehow, except for a few kisses now and then. Your period came, and as he tried to hold you, you had to fight tears while telling him not to. You’re sick and tired and you miss him, but you want to give him some space. You’ve been suffocating him for so long... You make sure to cry only when he’s out because he might hear you even in the shower. He has super hearing after all.

You thought it would become easier every day, but quite the opposite. Every time you’re close to giving up, you remember Sam’s comment that he made a week after you met him about how Bucky always likes his space and what Misty told you, so you fight against your wish.

Until Sunday afternoon.

You’re in bed, scrolling down on Instagram as Bucky comes out of the shower. You try not to stare at him, but how can you not? He looks absolutely incredible.

What you don’t expect is him trying to get on top of you to tickle you with a huge smile on his face. He’s so adorable.

“B-Bucky, stop!” You laugh as his hands get under your T-shirt. He loves making you laugh no matter how he does it. “N-no.”

“Oh, I will,” he says playfully.

But what he failed to tell you is that stopping means sneaking his head under your T-shirt, which starts to rip a little because of the stretch, and resting it on your boobs.

“Bucky!”

He puffs, annoyed. “Why the fuck are you wearing a bra in the house, bubba?”

“Cause it’s a bra?” You ask back sarcastically, but you know this is weird. You always complain about needing to wear it outside. But inside? It’s even worse.

“Unacceptable.” He quickly rips your bra in half, not bothering to unhook it, and you feel his beard on your breast all of a sudden, making you shiver. Fuck, you really miss this.

“B-Bucky, come on, your hair is a little wet!”

“Bubba, please...”

“Bucky! Why did you do that?” He immediately takes his head out of your T-shirt, and you almost cry. He looks do lost and scared.

“Baby, do you not want me anymore?”

“What the fuck?” You groan. This is the last thing you wanted him to think. All you tried to do was to make him happy and feel less pressured.

“You don’t let me touch you. You don’t want to cuddle with me. You don’t wake me up with kisses. You don’t get on top of me You don’t hug me! What did I do?”

Your heart aches for both of you. “Wasn’t that better?”

“Better for who?” He cries. “This was the worst week of my life since Hydra.”

“Unfortunately, that cannot be true, Bucky.” You sigh, getting closer to him. “I thought you like space...”

“I do, but not with my fucking baby!”

You melt at his words, truth be told. He said it so passionately, but you’re so confused.

“I thought I was being too clingy, touching you too much, you know?”

“What? Where did this come from?”

You close your eyes. How are you supposed to answer this without sounding like a petty bitch?

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does!” You feel his hands grabbing your face so you can look at him. “It means I did something wrong.”

You frown, upset that he thinks that. He’s been nothing but kind, understanding, and loving to you, and you hate how he feels like he failed you or something.

“Sam’s girlfriend told me I am clingy... always with you, never leaving you alone to breathe basically. And it reminded me of Sam saying how much you love your space, and I just...” You try not to cry, you really do, but you cannot hold back the tears this time, which Bucky immediately reaches to wipe with his flesh fingers.

“Jesus, baby! I don’t give a goddamn shit about what they say, you aren’t allowed to listen to anyone! Just let me touch you.”

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, and Bucky lifts you a bit so you can sit on his lap. You can hear his heartbeat, and you find that so peaceful.

“I thought you’re gonna break up with me, honey.” He whispers in your ear. “I was terrified when you didn’t let me cuddle with you.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” You don’t know what else to say. You hurt both of you for days just because you let some woman get inside your head, but you had good intentions. “I just didn’t want to be a burden.”

“I should be the one saying that, not you, bubba.” He leaves a kiss on your shoulder. “God, I missed you so much, it feels surreal to touch you.”

“I love you, I’m sorry.”

“Promise to never do this shit ever again!”

“I’ll try,” you murmur. “I didn’t realize you want me to touch you so much.”

Bucky lifts your head. “You know I have to punish you for that, right?”

“Punish me?” You ask surprised.

“Yeah, for believing some stranger over your man. For pulling away and giving me a heart attack. And for depriving yourself of my cuddling skills.”

You giggle. “What if I let you suck my nipples for a whole week anytime you wanted?”

“I already do that!” Bucky lifts your T-shirt as he speaks, and you gasp.

“You do not!”

“Yes, I do. Remember when I came home from the last mission and I made you come by-” He lowers his head and licks your right breast, avoiding your nipple.

“Fuck you, tease!”

“I am the tease?!” He snorts, continuing to lick.

“You’re always the tease. Now kiss me and gimmie your cock.”

“I won’t give you anything until I punish you.”

“Jamie!” You scream when he turns you around, ripping off your shorts in half, along with your underwear before placing you on his thighs. “What the fuck?”

“What the fuck to you for keeping yourself away from me.” You feel him caressing your ass for a few seconds before slapping your right cheek with his flesh hand. You squirm, gripping into his hip.

“F-fuck!”

“Count.”

You groan. “Jamie...” He spanks you again but harder, and this time you moan. “T-two.”

“Nope, we start over.”

“O-one.”

“Good girl!”

The third and fourth aren’t as hard as you want and you find yourself wiggling your ass in the air.

“Harder.”

“Harder?” He snorts, amused, and before he can bring his flesh hand in the air, you grab his metal arm.

“Please, daddy, use this one!”

Daddy? It didn’t take too long for you to get back in the mood.

“Can’t use it, baby, I’m sorry.”

“No!” You cry. “I need it, pleaseee. I’ll ride your face as many times as you w-want.”

Bucky still doesn’t agree. “Baby, it would hurt.”

“Let it hurt!”

You want it to hurt because this pain is not unbearable, quite the opposite. It pushes you over the edge faster.

He sighs and listens to you, bringing his metal hand to your ass, but you barely even feel it when he slaps. You groan, upset.

“I said slap! Do you want me to hover?”

“I can fucking hurt you.”

“I told you to hurt me!” You beg. “Please, honey! Please, please, please.”

He does it again, not hard enough for you, but you count anyway. Again and again.

“Jesus, you’re making my thighs so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”

“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”

Bucky’s moan comes somehow from the back of his throat, and the last spanks are perfect. He gently caresses your ass, cooling it off with his metal hand, and you smile. “You’re so dirty sometimes, but also such a good girl taking your punishment perfectly.”

“I am sorry,” you whisper.

“For what exactly?”

You pout, grabbing his face. “For all of it. But you’re you, Bucky. You’re the greatest guy in the world, I just didn’t want to be annoying.”

“You were annoying when you didn’t let me even hug you.”

You know that, but sometimes you can’t help but do dumb things, thinking about him. “I wanted you to be happy.”

“Well, I wasn’t happy, obviously. And neither were you, bubba. Promise me you’ll talk to me first next time.”

“I was just stupid…”

“No.” You feel his thumb all over your lips. “You were worried. I love you and I really need your touch, okay?”

“I noticed,” you laugh.

“Good, now feed me my boobs, and then I wanna see you riding my face as you negotiated.”

You fake sigh and grab your boob. “Open up.”

You’re not sure how to react when Bucky drags you straight to Sam and his girlfriend as soon as you get inside the museum.

“Hey, Buck-”

“Who do you think you are?”

Misty gasps while Sam and you freeze.

“Wow, wow, wow, man. Hold on a sec, what is going on?”

“What is going on, Samuel?” Bucky asks rhetorically through his teeth. “Ask your little girlfriend where she got her audacity from to tell my girl she is clingy. That she basically spends too much time with me. Who the fuck gave her the permission to even speak to her? So she either apologizes and keeps her mouth shut, or we’ll have a big problem.” Bucky turns his head to look at Misty. “From one metal arm to another. Wanna try me?”

“You did what? What the hell?”

Misty frowns, staring at you. “You went to complain to him for giving you a friendly, harmless advice?”

Bucky instantly grabs her metal arm wrist before you can answer.

“You got three seconds to beg for her forgiveness before I snap your hand in half. And I am not bluffing.”

Sam doesn’t even try to get between them, simply watching, and Misty immediately gets teary.

“I’m... sorry.”

Bucky shakes his head, squeezing her wrist. Holy shit! You haven’t seen him like this in ages. “Didn’t hear you.”

“I am sorry. I should have minded my own business!”

“Yes, you should’ve,” you say without regret. “But I forgive you.”

Bucky lets go with a grunt before nodding to Sam and bringing his hand to your hips, leading you toward the exit.

As soon as you are outside, you don’t even care if someone can hear you as you speak. “Fuck, I wanna suck your cock so badly!”

Bucky laughs. “I see. In the car… is that okay for you?”

You get on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Perfect.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #my stories #my fanfics

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