#tag: tall dark and grumpy

[eupheme]

— sugar, sugar

[part ii] | [part iii] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 6.5k

tags: asshole friend!wade, (sorta soft) roommate!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, flirting, mutual yearning, immature humor, a reference to while you were sleeping, wingman!wade and the worse way to meet someone, light angst, oral sex, swallowing, fingering, v. light ass play, unprotected PiV, appearance of The Claws, what’s a refractory period, sorta audible voyeurism (brief/humorous)

a/n: includes spoilers for deadpool & wolverine (which omg I loved - what was your fave cameo?)

Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate.

“You gonna introduce me?”

You’ve cornered Wade in the apartment’s laundry room - the door to the front-loading washer hanging open as he holds a bundle of red fabric up to his chest.

“You think this will wash out?” 

The suit in question looks like it had been run over by a truck and then set on fire, with the rips criss-crossed in the leather and the numerous charred holes scattered across the chest.

“Definitely.” Your eyes flicker down, and then back up, “So, will you?”

He bundles the suit up - flinging into the back of the washer, the laundry basket still tucked under an arm.

“Really? Not even ‘hello, Wade’? ‘Looking good, Wade’?” His voice pitches up, imitating yours, “Does our friendship really mean nothing to you?”

You wouldn’t necessarily call Wade Wilson a friend.

In fact, he’s honestly the worst neighbor you’ve ever had. 

Loud, obnoxious. Persuasive - the first night you met you had been banging on his door at three in the morning, yelling at him to shut up as music and a caterwauling voice blared through the shared wall.

Ten minutes later you were playing the drums on his late night session of Rock Band, using a banana and a wooden spoon in place of sticks. Only for Althea to stomp out of her room and shut everything down, scaring both of you out of your skins.  

But sometimes, you think - remembering the times he came through for you, a shoulder to cry on, helping him this slump he’s been digging himself out of - he might just be the best, as well.

And maybe that was friendship, after all. 

You sigh, leaning against the row of washers. Eyes flicking over him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You do look good, Wade,” There’s a tilt of your head, the smile widening, “Glad you lost the toupee, that really wasn’t your color.”

“Ah, ah. Repurposed,” He chides, cupping his crotch, “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve missed-”

“Ew, stop.” Your face scrunches, a hand covering your eyes as you shield your vision, “Will you please just answer my question?”

He throws a handful of shirts in the washer, “Which was...?”

Your head shakes - a hand on his arm as you reach for a glint of gold in the pile of clothes. Cringing as a handgun appears, held gingerly between thumb and forefinger as you set it on the side table.

“Good call,” He nods, “Dry clean only.”

You can't help a laugh then, even as your hands brace on your hips, “I want to meet your roommate.”

He frowns, “You’ve met Blind Al.”

“Jesus, Wade. Not Al." A hand waves, " I mean Mister Tall, Dark, and Brooding.”

You’ve seen the stranger in the hallways a few times in the month since he’s moved in. Scruffy and scowling the first time, a silent shadow behind Wade’s endless chatter. 

But in the weeks following, that look had softened. You’d stopped by twice with cookies to welcome him, but every time you’ve just gotten Al.

Not that you dislike Al, that’s not it at all. She’s sweet enough to you when it’s not 3 a.m. or if Wade doesn’t have her annoyed half to death.

But you certainly weren’t harboring a crush on her. Maybe even secretly hoping that maybe the new neighbor will get a little lost and end up at your door, instead of his new place.  

“Ooh,” The syllables draw out - detergent flung in, before he’s leaning against the washer too, facing you. “Yeah, Logan. He's great, got a mean ‘Hugh Jackman’ vibe, just without the singing. You’d like him.”

Something like hope flutters in your belly, but then he’s raising a finger - wiggling it at you, “Just one question though. What’s in it for me?”

That has you scowling, “What do you mean? You owe me. I covered for you when you had that barqueue in the stairwell.”

“God, that was great sausage.” Wade groans, thinking back, “Mmm, but I think Peter covered for me.”

“Who do you think got Peter?”

“Well, I don’t remember seeing you.” He shrugs.

“I was right-,” You pinch the bridge of your nose between thumb and forefinger, a sharp exhale of breath, “Fine. If you do this for me, I’ll do that thing you keep asking me to do.”

Wade gasps gleefully, “You mean you’ll make the triple decker-”

“-chocolate caramel cheesecake chimichangas. Yes.” You finish with him, arms crossing over your chest, “You’re lucky you heal fast because that should put you right into a food coma.”

“Right. Lucky me,” He smirks. A second as he thinks, before he snaps his fingers, “I’m having a little get-together tonight! You should come. Was gonna invite you anyway.”

The pounding in your head ratchets up at the thought that all this could’ve been avoided.

“Logan sleeps on the couch, though,” He adds, sagely, “So just letting you know that if the two of you decide to get your fuck on in my bed, according to the state of New York I am legally allowed to join you.”

“Thanks for the warning,” You grimace - even if you’re certain that cannot possibly be true, “But I do have my own apartment.”

“Oh, right.” There’s the faintest edge of disappointment in his tone, paired with a sigh.

You give him a sideways look, then.

“I saw Vanessa leaving yesterday. Things getting better?”

He sobers at that, eyes moving towards the sliver of a window. The glimpse of the street outside.

“Yeah.” Wade manages, “Yeah, I think so.”

There had once been a flicker of something. In-between your annoyance and exasperation, there were tendrils of tenderness. Long snuffed out, when you had seen just how banged up his heart was. How it’s always belonged to another. 

You had gotten over it. Gotten to a place where seeing him now, like this, makes you smile.

“I’m really glad to hear that.” 

He smiles, then.

“Thanks. Me too.”

“Hey, hold on.” Wade darts in front of his roommate, a leg kicked up high to block the doorway, “Where are you going? You can’t go out.”

Logan scowls, an arm already shoved into his leather jacket, “Sure I can.”

The blow against his shoulder might move a lesser man, but Wade’s fingers just grip the frame even tighter, “But I promised-, I got a friend that wants to meet you. There is some really important shit at stake here. I can’t let you go.”

An eyebrow cocks, “Can’t? I think we both know how that would go if you tried to stop me.”

It would be easy to get into this right here and now, but his suit is still in the dryer and he’s not about to spend another hour cleaning up blood.

“Wait, wait, wait,” He throws a hand up, “Aren’t you listening to me? A girl wants to meet you. She’s hot, she has a job, and she has an apartment. You’re only one outta three there. Can’t you see what a good opportunity this is? This is totally in your favor!”

Logan scoffs, his tongue tucking against his teeth. Hesitating for just a second, but it's enough that Wade knows he’s got him.

“I’ve met your friends,” He eventually acknowledges, “They’re good folk and all, but there isn’t anyone there I’d like to ‘get to know better’, yeah?”

“You haven’t met this one. She lives next door.”

The pause stretches longer this time. Dark eyes dart out into the hallway, and Wade can practically hear those rusted gears turning.

“Apartment 16 or 18?” Logan finally rasps, his arms crossing. 

Oh, he’s definitely got him. Just call him Wade Wilson, New York’s own personal Cupid. New life goal - get his friends laid. 

He nocks a mental arrow - aiming, and then firing with his answer. 

“18.” 

Another beat passes, and then a sigh. 

“Alright.” The leather sleeve slips from his arm, drooping in his fist.

“Five minutes. That’s all I’m staying.”

Wade’s fist pumps. 

Bullseye, motherfucker. 

The apartment is packed and it’s been well past the allotted five minutes. Logan’s been nursing a beer for the last fifteen, eyes flicking over the people he’s grown to know well.

Offering a tight, half-smile when the big man claps him on the back, followed by Opposites Attract. Almost tempted to find that damn dog, just to have something to do. 

Or maybe, just bail all-together.

Starting to think this was all an elaborate prank. Some fucked up aspect of this Earth, unknown to him until now.

He’s too old for this shit. If he heads for the bedroom now, he might make it out the fire escape before anyone notices.

Logan is still entertaining this new thread of thought until he hears his name - called out over whatever fuck-face bullshit boy-band music Wade’s been playing. 

Ambiance, his ass.

The muscles of his crossed arms flex. Catching the way his roommate hauls a girl across the floor - the look of panic on her face as she tosses a container onto the nearest surface.

Wade hadn’t been lying, after all. It was Apartment 18 - that was about as much as he knew about you.

Other than the color of your eyes. The smell of your perfume in the hall. Your hair, your schedule - waking in the mornings to hear your door opening at 5 a.m., five days a week.

A baker. A damn good one, from the bits of cookie he’s snuck when no one was home. 

Had never thought to introduce himself, because he’s been through all this before. Knows better than to reach out in the first place - still nursing the old wound of heartache, one that still flares to life in his chest.

Better not to hope, or even think, at all. 

You stumble when he lets go, and Logan’s hands only curl tighter. Afraid to touch, now that you’re so close. 

A pretty young thing compared to him. This was a fucking stupid idea, his eyes darting away as Wade claps, his hands spreading wide. 

“Logan,” Wade’s tone is cordial, as if discussing the weather, “This is our neighbor, Sugar. She bakes a mean penis cake and likes emotionally unavailable men.”

A dejected sigh as he regards you, “Which is why it’s never worked out between us. I am just too available.”

Penis cake?

Logan shoots you a sideways look, an eyebrow cocked. Caught off guard by this unexpected intro, and it seems you are the same - gauging by the way your mouth drops open. 

Your face swimming with regret, as you hiss, “Oh my god. Wade. It was one time. Why do you have to put it like that?”

Wade’s smile widens, his tone still innocent, “Just skipping over the ‘getting-to-know-you’s, so you can know if you’re compatible.”

Already pivoting to face Logan with a little wink, his own scowl already deepening. Something like nerves flickering to life - as he wonders if this will all be over before it ever begins.

“And this is Logan. He’s from another Earth, is two-hundred years old, and has a metal dong.”

Jesus Christ. 

Logan’s teeth grit, before he snarls, “It’s not made of metal-”

Out of the corner of his eye, catches the curious dip of your gaze. Past the folded twist of his arms, the flannel, down to his thick belt buckle.

A knock rings out then, interrupting him from any further clarification.

“Ooh! Door,” Wade thumbs over his shoulder, “Go on now, we’ve got some good energy going here. Sugar and spice, I love it.”

A spin on his heel, and he’s leaving them alone. Silence a lingering companion for a long moment, before Logan turns.

“Nice to meet you.” He seethes, jaw working as he shoots daggers at Wade’s back. A hand extended - he’d manage that much at least.

Waiting for you to make an excuse and run, but all you do is fit your hand into his. Soft and strong and a near perfect fit.

Logan doesn’t touch people much anymore unless it’s a hand around a throat, or claws buried deep into a chest. Had almost forgotten what it was like, even if this meeting is close to his own personal version of hell.

“Nice to finally meet you, too.” Your smile is wry. Hands still clasped a moment longer, until he’s withdrawing. 

Your hands shove into your back pockets. The tilt of a head as you regard him, and he lets his eyes meet yours. 

They’re pretty, like the rest of you. Captivating even, if he could use such a word, and Wade’s words ring out in his head. 

She wants to meet you.

He’s wondering if that’s still true. Maybe you’re wondering the same, with the way you look at him. 

“So,” You begin, awkwardly - another unconscious flick of your eyes,“How does-”

“Uh-uh.” Logan’s head shakes. He’s picked up a couple things living with Wade. Never used to be a bargaining man, but he has to admit it has its uses. 

“If you wanna know, you gotta go first.” 

He hates you.

He must, with the way he’s scowling. Thighs spread wide as he sits on the couch you had gestured to, fingers in a vice grip around the bottle. No doubt plotting a dozen ways to ditch you the second he can.

Who wouldn’t, with a meeting like this? You could kill Wade, cheeks burning as you sink into the worn cushions next to him.

That is, until your knee knocks against his. The muscles in his thigh flexing - but Logan lets it rest, instead of pulling away. 

“You gonna-?” His voice is gruff, a low rasp that makes goosebumps raise across your skin. 

“Uh, sure.” Your fingers twist, “Which part did you want to hear about?”

His eyebrows lift. Those dark eyes beneath, almost a hint of amusement in them.

“Right,” The little laugh that bubbles from you is self-conscious, “Well, I don’t really like emotionally unavailable men, they just have a habit of finding me.”

His voice is low, “How would Wade know that?”

“Mm, how would he know about your-?” Your eyes flicker down for the third time, and he shifts. 

“You first.”

“Alright.” You huff, but you’re smiling now. Some of your discomfort easing. 

Logan is even more handsome than you had thought. You like the way his eyes dart away, only to come back and linger. 

It’s starting to make you think that maybe it’s not dislike that has so much of him hidden away. Maybe it’s just been a long time since someone tried to peel any of him back. 

Maybe he’s as nervous as you are.

“Well, he’s had to scare an ex or two away.” You shrug, “He only knows because I told him. And the cake, oh-, that was him, too.”

You turn then, to face him. A shoulder brushing the arm he has thrown across the back of the couch, a flicker in his eyes as you get comfortable beside him.

“Well, Wade had gotten ripped in half a couple years ago,” You nose wrinkles, a wave of your hand, “And it all like, has to grow back, right? It’s so creepy.”

Logan grimaces at your explanation, and you wonder if he understands. You think he must - you had thought he was like Wade, in some ways. 

Different. Special.

“Well, he uh, finished growing everything in,” You make a sweeping gesture over your lower half, “And the next year to celebrate his dickiversary, he ordered a penis cake from my shop.”

“His… dickiversary.” Logan repeats slowly.

The heat is back in your cheeks, but you nod, “Yeah, because it like, it came back and all. And he paid in cash, I couldn’t say no.”

There’s the smallest twitch of Logan’s lips, and it feels like a victory.

“Right. What flavor was it?”

Your smile widens with relief, “Strawberries and cream. It was so good. I’ll have to make it for you sometime.”

A second before you cringe, adding, “I mean, a normal one. Not…”

He hums then, close to a laugh.  

“Sure. You do that.”

You smile, letting your shoulder bump his, “And with that… I think it’s your turn.”

The bit of humor in his expression flattens. A searching look thrown your way, before he inhales a breath.

Setting it free. 

“I’m a mutant.”

Logan waits there, as if expecting something. You only nod, thinking of the ones you know. Colossus, Ellie, Yukio, Domino. Wade. 

“Wade said you were similar to him. I had assumed-” You encourage, waiting.

“Right,” He seems relieved, some of the tension ebbing, “My powers are regenerative, like his. But unlike him, I have these-”

There’s the jerk of his wrist, and three sharp metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. Your gasp is caught in your throat as you cling to his flannel shirt - the surprise bleeding into worry. 

They glint in the light, as his fingers flex. 

“Adamantium instead of bones. All of me is like this.”

The claws sheath themselves inside him again. His wounds smoothing over seconds later, as he scrubs his knuckles across his jeans, wiping away blood. 

Offering out his hand, after. Letting your grip unwind from his shirt, and press against his skin instead. Feeling the tendons in his hand, his wrist. The skeleton beneath utterly unyielding, a weight to his limb that is so unlike your own.

“Metal…” You trail off, as pieces click into place, “I get it now. So does Wade really think there’s like, an actual bone-?”

Logan huffs again, “Guess so.”

You laugh then. A thought sobering you after, as a fingertip drifts up to the dip between his fingers. 

“But doesn’t that hurt?” 

It makes you wince to even think about it. Much less how casually they sprung from him, no different than breathing. 

He shrugs, and it’s heartbreaking.

“Doesn’t even phase me anymore.”

“And, the two hundred years,” Another facet you put together out loud, “You’re still alive because you keep healing? Will it be that way forever?”

His hand flexes in your grip.

“Not forever. Apparently my powers will run out, at some point.” His eyes meet yours, “The Logan in this world is dead. Wade pulled me from another.”

Your brow furrows - always trying to keep up with the snippets that Wade has told you across the years - stories about time-traveling and mutants and even how he came to be. But this seems too deep. Surely Logan must be joking.

“Another world, huh?” You ask, head tilting - trying your best to roll with it, “Won’t they miss you in yours?”

Only now does his face falter. That sharp mask cracking, as his hand pulls from yours. Resting again on the back edge of the couch - his answer low and rough. 

“No. I don’t think so.”

Another jolt racks through your heart. You don’t know him know him yet, but you already can’t believe that could possibly be true. Your fingers fan out, hovering - before it folds into a fist.

“Well then, I’m glad you’re here.”

He doesn’t reply. 

The room is darker now, dim with the setting of the sun. Street lights outside pouring in a golden beam that cuts across his face. 

His eyes are hazel, you can see that now. A fading rim of green spilling into the brown, beneath the near-permanent furrow of his eyebrows. 

Yours caught in the glow of the flamingo string lights that curl out from the kitchen, stapled to the walls.

He breaks the silence, the words coming slowly. 

“Let me ask you one more thing.” 

“Sure. You know some of my worst secrets already.” You smile, a shoulder lifting.

His hand twitches, where it rests near your shoulder. The tip of a finger ghosting against skin.

Just the slightest brush but it feels like it radiates out, lingering after.

“Why’d you tell Wade you wanted to meet me?” 

His voice is still low, rough. But it’s lost that sharp edge. The combination has your stomach tied up in knots, suddenly more nervous that you’ve been the whole night.

Surely he must know? 

“Well…” You hedge. It’s your turn to look away, but then there’s the brush of his fingers again.

“Because I did want to meet you.” You admit, “You, you seemed like someone I wanted to get to know. In whatever capacity you’d like.”

“Is that right, Sugar?” Logan husks, and the nickname sounds even sweeter on his tongue, stealing your breath.

All you can do is nod, as his eyes darken. 

Voices rise behind you, ripping you out of this little bubble you’ve found yourself in. Nearly forgetting just how many people are here, how many eyes have been glancing your way since you’ve arrived.

“Not strip poker Wade, please.” The rough rumbling plea of Colossus’s voice rings out above the others, “You never wear anything under the suit-”

You didn’t even realize when he had changed, but he had - patches of bare skin on his ass showing through the holes. Your nose scrunches, before you turn back to realize that Logan’s eyes are still on you.

Dropping when your tongue peeks out to wet your lips - your words coming out in a soft hush. 

“You want to get out of here?”

You want him. You can only hope that he might just want you, too.

The corner of his lip twitches.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

It’s strange to have someone like Logan in your space. You can remember the last time you’ve wanted someone here.

His fingers still entwined with yours, from where you had reached back for him. Leading him through the dim corners of the room.

Thinking you had made it, only for the rousing cheers to rise when you had cracked the door open to slip through.

His grip tightening when you made to tug your hand free, in an urge to press it against burning cheeks. Letting you fumble with one hand, to open the lock next door.

It’s quieter here. A low echo of the music next door, as the darkness wraps around you again.

Here, his fingers move, but it’s only to skim up your wrist. To tug you between him and the front door, until your back presses against it. 

His nose brushes yours as he steps into your space, your lips already parting. Holding himself there for a moment, inhaling the scent of you as his arm braces above your head.

Leaving you to be the one that closes the gap. The tilt of your head and the press of your lips against his.

A rough hum when your arms wrap around his neck, fingers buried in his hair. His hand gripping at your waist, pulling your hips against his.

Tugging and pushing. A messy path from the front door through the small living room - a mirror-image of the apartment next door.

Through to the bedroom, wandering hands and the brush of his tongue against yours as he deepens the needy kiss. Until his knees are hitting the edge of your bed, and he’s letting you nudge him back onto the mattress.

He brings you with him - your hips cradling his as you settle yourself astride him. Hands flatten against his chest as you rock down - drawing a rough, mumbled “fuck”.

Grinding yourself down where he’s hard, the curve of his cock straining against his jeans. Letting your hands follow, as his own cup your ass. Squeezing, before slipping to press the heel of his hand against the seam at your clit.

You moan into his mouth, as your fingers curl around him. Eyes blown wide when you pull back, scooting your hips down. 

It’s here that he comes back to himself. 

Going tense as you fit yourself between his thighs, fingers at this belt as the other still cups him.

“You shouldn’t want this.” He rasps, those eyes glinting in the dark, “A man like me. You know that, right?”

Propping himself up on an elbow, so he can see your expression. So you can see the way his jaw grits, nostrils flaring. 

It’s a warning, wrapped up in silk. A last ditch effort to scare you away - knowing that once he has you, he won’t want to stop.

Your fingers slow - his zipper half-undone, baring skin and a dark shadow of hair beneath. 

The other pulling away, “You want me to stop?” 

He catches your wrist, jerking your hand back. His hips bucking into your palm, grinding himself into your touch. 

“The last thing I want to fucking do is stop.” It’s almost a growl, “But on my Earth, I-”

You sigh then, impatient, “Logan, this Earth isn’t all that great either. I lost five years of my life to the blip.”

He frowns, not understanding - but your head shakes as you continue, “I’m tired of being too scared to take chances. I’ve been trying to live each day to the fullest, and I’d like to end this one with you.”

And out of everyone - Logan knows a little something about second chances.

“Yeah,” He manages - the grip of his fist leaves you, “Yeah, okay.”

"Thank you,” You answer primly, just as you finish yanking the zipper down. 

His hand beats you in the race to ease himself out, fingers curling around the base. You can’t help it - you inhale a breath at the sight of him.

Heavy, with the way the flushed tip bobs in his grip. Thick enough that you’re already wondering if you’re going to be able to take him. 

The huff he makes turns into a groan as you start small - engulfing the leaking head with your lips. The first inch turns into another as his hips lift, feeding his cock into your waiting mouth. 

Only when he’s halfway inside you, bumping against your throat, does his hand drop. Letting you replace it with your own - squeezing, as drool slicks up his shaft. Your head bobbing in time with the twist of your fist.

That brief hesitance is quickly forgotten. Fingers brush at your cheek, curling around the base of your head as he guides you.

Leaving you eager for more. Another hissed groan when your mouth leaves him, your hand loosening as you strip your clothes away.

“Oh fuck yes,” He coaxes, when he realizes what you’re doing, “Let me see you, baby.” 

Your shirt and pants left to pool on the floor. A second of boldness as you unclasp your bra next, leaving you in your panties as you focus on his cock again. 

A bitten-back moan when your tongue slips across his swollen shaft - an low throb between your thighs as you rub them together, clenching around nothing. Resisting the urge to slip your hand beneath the hem to ease the ache. 

Instead, your keep your hands on him. Goosebumps raising as your nails scratch against the deep v of muscle at his hips. The others working him into your mouth, as he slowly comes more undone. 

His hips flex with each bob of your head, lips parted as he pants. The words a rough mumble, becoming almost desperate. 

“That’s it sweetheart.”

Another moan when you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, “Oh fuck, gonna fill that pretty mouth.”

His hand cups your jaw, holding you steady as he bucks into your mouth. Those dark eyes fixed on you in wonder, all that pretty skin bared for him to touch, to taste. He’s mesmerizing like this - the weight of gaze. Jaw slack with pleasure, eyes aflame.

You did this to him. 

It sends something warm flooding through you, as his eyelashes flutter. The tipping back of his head, muscles ticking in his cheek as his teeth ground down. 

A sound still slips between them, as he floods your mouth with the next flex of his hips. Pulsing between your lips as you swallow him down, a choked sound ripping from his chest when you cup his sack to gently squeeze out every last drop. 

Logan melts into the mattress after, an arm thrown over his eyes as he catches his breath. His gaze focusing on you when he feels you squirm - dark, and hungry.

A lithe stretch of muscles as he moves - legs easing from beneath you. 

“Hands and knees,” He commands, head tipping towards the bed next to him, as he rolls off. Kicking off his jeans as you listen, watching over a shoulder as the flannel and white tank underneath joins your clothes on the floor.

Your eyes widen at how toned he is - muscles rippling, the bed dipping as he fits himself behind you.

His broad hand at the small of your back, pushing your torso down against the mattress. A pleased hum then, fingers trailing just along the elastic edge of your underwear.

“Could smell how much she needed this.” The tips of two press against the damp fabric between your thighs, making you gasp, “Even next door. You want it that bad?”

It should be embarrassing that he could tell how much you desired him, but at the moment all you can think about is him touching you more.

“Yes,” You agree, “Please, Logan.”

“So fuckin’ polite,” The fingers withdraw; but only so his nose can replace them. A ragged inhale, just before his tongue drags against your clothed slit.

A groan against your skin as you cry out, before a finger hooks around the fabric, baring you for him to taste.

The heat of his tongue flattens against you - lapping at where you drip with need, a rough rumble in his chest. 

“Sweet, too.” Another flick of his tongue, “Your name. ‘s fitting.”

You can’t manage words. Only his name, muffled against the sheets as your fists twist in them. Back arched as you resist the urge to grind yourself against his tongue, as it flicks against your clit.

It’s messy, how he eats you. You don’t think you’ve even had someone take you like this. Hungry, desperate even, as he devours you. The rumble of a groan against your cunt as his tongue delves inside you, stretching you open. Letting your slick smear into his beard, with how close he presses his mouth.

That need inside you thrumming. Winding tighter as he yanks your panties down your thighs. His palm flattening against your ass, holding you open as he licks you from clit to hole, then higher. Humming as you squeak, when his tongue flattens against your tight rim. 

A thick finger nudging against you then, as his tongue dips back to your clit. There’s no resistance as it slips deeper, into slick walls that clamp down around him.  It’s what you needed - that little bit more.

Unable to help rocking into the crook of his finger now. Whining when a second joins it, spearing deep and curling. Dragging against your walls, loud and wet and filthy with each plunge. 

Your whimpers only grow louder. Needier, as his lips wrap around your clit. Fingers pounding deep, stretching you out. Leaving you babbling, your words slipping together. 

“Don’t fucking stop.” Tears prick at your eyes, each breath a rattling gasp, “Oh my god you’re gonna make me come-”

He has you gushing, with the next flick of his tongue. A pleased groan as he feels your pussy tighten around his fingers, hearing the wail that is muffled into your pillows. That sharp pace slowing, his thumb replacing his tongue to draw your orgasm out until your legs are shaking. 

His fingers sticky when they pull from you, only to slip between his lips - tongue curling around his knuckles, sucking them clean.

It leaves you floating above yourself. You can’t remember ever coming this hard, even by yourself. Only the tintest thread of disappointment as you drift, and it’s only that you won’t get the pleasure of his cock filling you tonight.

You would’ve liked to see what he can do with the rest of him. 

Perhaps you can convince him to stay until morning.

But he moves behind you, instead. His knee pressing against yours, spreading your legs further. The rhythmic shuffle of skin against skin, as his hand slips from between his lips to fist around his cock. 

“Tell me I can fuck you.” It’s not a plea, not with the harsh rasp of his voice. But it’s as close as you’ve heard, as he swipes the tip against your leaking pussy.

Smearing your slick on him, teasing at your waiting hole.

You don’t know how he’s hard again, but at the moment you really don’t care. Not sure if you’ve ever felt a need like this, your back arching further as you present yourself to him. 

A twist of your neck, so your eyes can meet his. 

“Fuck me, Logan.” 

He groans, broad hands squeezing at your ass. Slipping up to sink his fingers into the flesh at your hips. Holding you steady as he lines himself up. 

Your breath held, when you feel his cock start to breach you - muscles stringing tight.

“Relax, sweetheart,” He grits out, though not unkindly, “You can take it.”

Trying to hold himself back from filling you with a single thrust, with the way you’re already gripping him.

Easing himself into your heat. Two inches forward and then one back, and with each one you think you’ll feel the press of his thighs against yours. A low whine as your cunt makes room for him, that sharp stretch as it feels like he’s reaching into your belly.

Feeling full when he finally is flush, the weight of his sack kissing against your clit. His shoulders following the curve of your back, as a hand slips up to plant next to your head.

“Feels fucking incredible,” It’s mumbled against your skin, almost as if it hadn’t meant to say it. 

“Mm,” You grin, your face tipping up to his, “Should’ve met you weeks ago.”

He smirks, a low sound in his throat as his mouth presses to yours. Starting a slow rhythm that drags his cock against your walls. Slipping until he’s halfway out, only to sheath himself again. Pushing the air from your lungs as he flattens himself, knees digging into the bed as your thigh spread wider - forcing him deeper.

It’s almost too much. 

You hand shoots out, reaching. Wrapping around his wrist, nails biting against his skin. 

It feels like he’s surrounding you. Each thrust a heavy weight that presses you into the bed. Splitting you open, until all you can do is squirm beneath him.

That pressure in your belly building again, as his hips pound. His breath, hot and panting in your ear as he chases his own end.

“Fuck, Logan.” You sob, “Harder-”

His tendons flex under your grip. Knuckles pressing flat against the sheets as he makes a rough sound in his throat. 

Those claws unsheathing with his next thrust. Punching down into your mattress. Anchoring as he loses himself to the feel of you beneath him.

How tight and wet and warm you are, your arousal still sweet on his tongue. Fighting the urge to sink his teeth into your throat, as everything tightens up inside him.

“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning, rasped out. 

“Come in me,” You whine, “Wanna feel you.”

He does growl then, at the thought of filling you to the brim, until he's leaking out of your pretty little pussy. Hips snapping faster, pinning you to the bed as he ruts into you. Each squeak of the bed paired with the sharp rip of fabric as his claws dig in. 

Feeling how your body strings tight beneath him, how you clench down in anticipation. Wanting to feel you once more, before he gives in to his own desires.

“Come on, baby,” It’s hushed, murmured against your skin, “Fuckin’ give it to me-”

The sharp point of a canine scraping against your skin, his groan rough and throaty in your ear. 

Your fingers work down to wedge themselves between your thighs. The tips brushing where you’re speared open, before circling your clit like his tongue had.

He has you mindless. Fucked out - that soft glow from your earlier orgasm shining bright as he tips you towards a second.

Burning at that tightly wound thread inside you, until the ends fray, and then snap. 

It has you coming with his next thrust. A wail ripped from you as he buries himself deep, feeling the way your pussy clenches down around him. 

Fingers still swirling, drawing out the deep pulses that fan out from your core as your toes curl, vision going hazy.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” He rasps, those sharp thrust slowing to a sloppy grind, “Make a fucking mess for me, there you go-”

Panting, as he groans. Another roll of his hips before he’s coming with you - teeth bruising skin as they sink into your shoulder. The sound he makes is broken as he spills into you, muscles clenching with each pulse that paints your walls.  

Marking you thoroughly with teeth and come, the saw of his hips slowing until you both finally go still. A breath finally caught. 

Blissed out, when he rolls you both to the side. His thighs still mapping yours, cock still notched deep. A thick arm thrown across your waist, his breath ragged in your ear as he catches his breath.

Your fingers drift, as you bask in your afterglow. Dipping into the rips in your mattress, knuckle deep.

There’s a grunt as you wiggle, the words low in your ear, “I’ll get you another, sweetheart. Just lost control for a moment.”

The thought doesn’t bother you as much as you’d think. In fact, you wouldn’t mind if happened again.

Only as your imagination runs wild, do you hear the muffled moan from the brick wall behind you.

“Fuck, that’s good.”

Dramatic and drawn out, paired with faint rhythmic noise. 

A beat - before you hear mumbled protesting. The voice of someone talking with their mouth full, “No. Back the fuck off Peter, I’m not going to share.” 

Eating. The fucker was eating his end of the bargain, ear pressed to the wall.

The next louder, “Alright, pay up everyone, Operation ‘Get Sugar Some Sugar’ was a success!”

You grimace, eyes rolling. Logan grunts behind you, the words mumbled out sleepily.

“Wish I could sew that goddamn mouth shut.”

There’s a faint “they already tried that!” before Logan’s fist bangs on the wall, shutting him up.

But you can’t help the smile. Your fingers fitting between the ones that rest just below your breasts, squeezing.

“He’s not so bad,” You admit, “Wade, I mean.”

Logan groans, “Don’t say his name while I’m fucking you.”

“You’re-” You start - but then you can feel him.

Still hard - as his hips cant slowly against yours. Your joined hands slip up to cup a breast - as his lips press against your neck, stubble scraping you skin.

“Again?” You breathe, disbelieving that he’d be up for a third time - your hips rocking back to meet his. The sound lewd with how he drips from you - but it only has him grinding himself deeper, “You sure you’re two hundred?”

“Regenerative powers, sweetheart.” Logan husks, the flash of teeth with a knowing smirk.

“Can’t say it doesn’t come with perks.”

I used to have the biggest fucking crush on wolverine, haha - so fun to watch a new movie with him!! 👀💕 thank you so much for reading! And please me know if you'd like to read any more for him! (like more one-shots,etc!)

[tokkiwrites]

CARE FOR SOME COOKiES?

in which Tangerine has had a not so healthy obsession for the girl next door for a while now & he finally gets what he wants.

tags: neighbor tan, smut, mean (kind of) dom tangerine, afab reader, sub reader, degradation, bdsm themes, dumbification of reader, unprotected sex (p in v) + more. just filthy filthy smut :p

the way her soft locks fell onto her round shoulders, covering her pretty neck. the way she always sheepishly tucked a piece behind her ear every time she saw him. it wasn't hard to see that he was long gone now.

the small crush has turned into something more. he hates it because he'd rather not want to fantasize about her all night long, but the thin walls provide him with utmost sounds when she touches herself late at night. it's not his fault she is so pretty and delicate, oblivious even to how she makes his heart beat so fast and how quickly he gets hard only at the sight of her.

he is taken out of his deep thinking state when the sound of someone knocking on his door causes him to jolt out of his seat.

"fuckin' hell, mate. who is it at this hour..?"

he rubs the bridge of his nose before opening the front door, ready to tear through whoever thought it was a good idea to bother him at 9pm on a Thursday night.

"the fuck ya wan-" he stops before he could finish his sentence, as behind the door was his dream come true of a woman. the smell of warm brown sugar and her jasmine perfume mix in the air, invading his lungs.

"hi, neighbor! care for some cookies?" she lets out the cutest giggle ever known to man, and tangerine feels like he could eat her then and there. she was dressed in a floral pink dress that reached her mid thigh, her hair in two messy pigtails, and splotches of flower scattered on her face and the top of the dress.

he looks at her up and down, quirking his eyebrows up before smiling and finally saying something. he was so lost at the sight of her. and he wasn't the only one in that position. y/n could barely mutter the words when she first saw him, only in a pair of dark sweatpants. no shirt, no nothing. just his perfectly messy curly hair and his way too good-looking mustache.

"hey, luv." tangerine tries to play his usual, confident and cocky self, which works because as soon as those words left his mouth y/n's legs felt like jelly, she swears her stomach just did a backflip.

"ya baked cookies, huh?" he teases.

"i mean...i tried! promise i didn't poison them!" she tilts her head up, trying to hand him the plate full warm strawberry crumble cookies.

"thanks, luv. care for a cup of tea? i think it'll go perfectly with your cookies."

she could die right now, cheeks oh so red, much like the strawberry jam in those cookies.

"that'd be nice-- I'd like that." she hums, nodding her head in agreement as tangerine motions her to enter his apartment.

it smelled so much like him. It felt like a big warm embrace, much like the ones she was fantasizing about all those nights she couldn't keep quiet.

" It's so pretty in here!"

" yeah, 's my mates work, Lemon. He has a keen eye for...decor, i suppose."

another giggle slips through her rosy and round lips. it feels like someone punched him in the stomach. and head. and heart. and gave him a magic potion because the effect this girl had on him was truly incomprehensible.

"uh- why don't ya sit down, darlin', yeah? and ill make us both some tea."

"sounds great!" she scurried into the nearest armchair, settling the plate of cookies on the coffee table right in front of her.

after some moments pass the tall bloke returns with two mugs filled with warm tea. as he places them down on the table he sits down opposite of y/n, his eyes never leaving her thighs, barely covered by that dress.

"so-" he makes a pause before smiling up at her "why'd you bring me the cookies?"

y/n smiles shyly before finally blurting out her thoughts.

"you always seem so grumpy, especially when you come home from work. and you seemed lonely... n i just wanted to sweeten up your week just a little bit."

someone better give this man an award for self control, because it takes so much will power for him to not just ravage the adorable bundle in front of him.

nonetheless, he leans his elbows on his knees and rests his chin on the knuckles of his hands. "oh?"

"that so?" he asks, a little chuckle after that.

"yeah...please dont get mad that i called you grumpy! and implying that you have no friends! its not what i meant, i just-"

"i know, luv, its fine. thank you for thinking about me. but you don't have to fill that pretty little head of yours with worries, yeah?"

that's it, she might as well let her heart jump out of her chest and run a marathon, because the way her heartbeat was increasing every second wasn't normal.

"can you at least try the cookies..?"

"yeah, darlin'." he smiles before reaching and grabbing one of the small cookies. heart shaped? god, even the cookies she makes are just as adorable. he bites in and his tastebuds are immediately flooded with the taste of strawberries, his eyes widening in response.

"a-are they bad?" y/n asks, anxiously

bad? that small bite tasted like heaven. he swears this girl is some kind of love witch.

"god, y/n. are you kidding? these are bloody amazing." after that, he started stuffing his face with more cookies, crumbs getting caught in his mustache.

"I'm so happy you like them..." her heart skips a beat, as she sips from her tea, so in trance that she manages to slip the cup through her fingers, splattering the tea all over herself and tangerines leather armchair.

"oh my god!" she yelps, embarrassed of herself, blood rushing to her face

" ya okay, luv?" tangerine worried, gets up from his place, grabbing a rag and quickly leaning in front of y/n "wasn't too hot, yeah? didn't burn yourself?"

"m fine, just embarrassed.." she puffs out her cheeks "even ruined your chiar."

"hey, darlin, don't worry, its leather, one wipe with water and its okay, yeah?

he reaches in and stars wiping her wet things with the rag, his rough fingers brushing agains her blushed skin. as he reached her inner thighs, he looks her dead in the eyes, only to find a flustered y/n looking at him with those doe eyes of hers that drive him mad.

without even thinking he presses his other hand onto her thighs, pulling himself up and hovering over her, his hands now gripping the arm rests of the chair.

how much he's dreamed of this, to see her all red and flushed under him, unable to say anything.

"y'okay, doll?" he smirks rather darkly, his face inching closer to hers.

she bites the inside of her cheeks, nodding as she couldn't believe what was happening. was she dreaming? was she imagining things? she caught herself off guard as she whispered bashfully "you can kiss me.."

"what?"

her eyes widened as she heard what she said, whole body now cemented in place by embarrassment.

"n-nothing, i-"

"do you really want me to, luv?"

she chokes on her breath, a timid yes slipping past her lips.

"i wanna hear ya say it, doll. what do you want me to do, huh?"

"want you to k-iss me." she couldn't believe herself.

this was it, the moment tangerine has been waiting for months. he has her now, and it'll take certainly more than a kiss to satiate his deep hunger for her.

"oh, luv. I'm so thankful you asked me to. i didn't know how much i could hold myself back."

he licks his lips, scanning her again, all stone still and flustered under him.

"when I saw you...the way you look right now. did it on purpose? huh? wanted to get a reaction out of me?"

she breathes heavily, before nodding her head, the hem of her wet dress twirling between her fingers.

"my sweet girl. you've no idea how little you need to do just to get me goin'."

"i d-do..?"

"you don't seem to understand, luv. you're deep inside my skin, my veins, my bones. you're everything my soul has yearned for all this time. since the moment i saw you."

he growls before finally leaning down and kissing her with an insatiable thirst. grabbing her by the hips he swiftly changes their position, placing y/n atop of his lap.

the feeling of his calloused palms all over her skin was indescribable, it was just like those many dreams she had of him. after a few more minutes tangerine pulls out of the kiss, a string of saliva connecting their lips.

he smirks, tracing y/n's skin with his fingers before speaking up.

"you wanna keep goin', love? want me to stop?"

"no! p-lease don't..."

"as you wish, doll. promise ill be gentle, yeah?"

he's interrupted by y/n's soft voice "please, don't.."

she gulps before finally continuing "don't be gentle...w-ant you to use me. p-lease?"

he scoffed, feeling himself getting harder and harder "that so? wanna be my little abuse doll?"

"y-yes.."

"y'know, y/n, never thought you'd be like this. i mean, you look so innocent and bubbly. but i guess..." he trails off before wrapping his large hand around her throat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear "-thats just a mask, yeah? you're actually a dumb pup who wants to be used, no."

y/n whimpers, eagerly nodding her head and leaning into tangerines touch. "y-es" she manages to choke out, before she feels a strong tug on one of her pigtails, pulling her to the floor, kneeling at tangerines feet.

"then get to it, doll." he smirks before motioning y/n closer to his crotch. "c'mon, dont make me ask twice."

she places her palms at the hem of his pants, before pulling them down alongside his boxers. she jumped slightly as she saw what was expecting her. she couldn't believe her eyes, how is she going to fit all that in?

"what's wrong, luv?" he asks almost on a mocking tone.

"t-too big."

"you'll manage." he pats her head before tugging at her hair again. she whimpers at the gesture before leaning in closer. looking up as if asking for approval, she wraps her lips around the tip of his thick shaft.

"fuckin hell-" he bites his lower lip as he simultaneously pushes y/n's head further down, making her whine on it "yeah, just like that. c'mon darlin..." his head falls back, hips buckling up into a steady thrust, the only sounds filling the room being tangerines groans and y/n's soft moans.

the few minutes that flew by felt like more to y/n, her jaw wincing in pain from the size of tangeries shaft. even so, it fit perfectly in her mouth, he thought -- oh, how much he dreamed of this moment, having her like this, on her knees ready to take him. his mind went hazy as he felt his orgasm approaching. grabbing y/n by the back of her head, he pushed in further, thrusting one final time before finally releasing himself in her warm mouth.

after coming down from his high, he looked back down at y/n. "fuck." he muttered as he felt himself harden again at the sight: her rosy cheeks tainted by tears, lips swollen, semen and drool covering them and her chin.

"you're so pretty like this, luv. so pretty with your mouth full" he chuckles before swiftly picking her up and setting her on the armchair, tangerine towering above.

"did i do good..?" she flutters her eyelashes, averting the man's gaze. he smirks, leaning down to trail his lips along her neck up to her ear. "so good, doll." his rough palm settles on y/n's tigh, slowly inching it closer to the hem of the panties she was wearing.

"y'okay, luv? you wanna continue?" he stops himself for a little "sure you wanna do this?"

there was a short pause before she finally spoke, "Please." he furrows his brows before smiling cunningly. "Please what, darlin?"

"Please...need you in me-" she whimpers, rubbing her blushed thighs together. he scoffed before finally ripping off her white panties clean off, pulling her down so her head was almost on the seat cushion. "All right, doll."

his fingers danced around her thighs before finally reaching her bud, glistening from how wet she was. he glides his fingers down her lips, letting out a low growl. "fuck, doll, you're so so wet. for me, yeah? my pretty fuck toy..."

"j-just for you, tan..." she leans into his touch, prompting him to plunge his digits into her warmth. she moans, a shiver running down her spine. his hand stars to move slowly -- one finger, then two...the third brought her to a haze, she'd never felt so good, let alone from just someone's fingers.

"there...think ya ready, luv?" he asks, positioning himself in front of her entrance. a soft "yes" left her lips before he pushed in, groaning from the tightness. y/n wraps her legs around his waist and digs her fingers into the leather of the armchair.

"f-fuck, doll-" he moans, indulging further into her, his lips wrapping around her neck and palms roaming her breasts. after a few strokes, he grabs her ankles, pulling her down fully on her back, legs now on both sides of his head.

she sobs, his large shaft hitting so deep inside of her it made her see stars. "o-oh my god-" she whimpers as tangerine becomes more erratic and brutal, plunging into her aggressively.

one hand was wrapped around y/n's ankle and the other rapidly around her throat, making her gasp, pleasure clouding her already blurred mind.

after some more minutes of tangerine ruthlessly using y/n as he pleased, she was reduced to nothing but a drooling, incoherent mess, just as he always imagined.

"in m-me-" she mewls "i want y-ou to finish-- in me.."

tangerine was feeling himself getting closer to reaching his orgasm, both hands now gripping tightly on y/n's plushy thighs. "i want you to cum on my cock, doll." he grunts "c'mon- for me."

her legs twitched, whole body going limp as she finally finished, her walls tightening around his winching member, causing tangerine to release, painting her inner walls with white ribbons.

they both pant, none of them moving a muscle. after a couple of minutes tangerine pulls out, making y/n gasp at the emptiness. "filled you up so good, eh luv?"

a bright red blush creeps on her stained cheeks, as she tries to close her legs but to no avail. "think you dislocated my legs, actually." she lets out a gentle giggle as tangerine picks her up from the armchair.

"Let's get ya cleaned up, darlin, then we can finally eat those cookies."

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎ 토끼's NOTE : sorry for any grammatical errors its also my first time posting here AAAAAA !!! this has 2585 words. hope u guys liked it cuz it made me feel some type of way lmao

[yellowbunnydreams]

Bunny Ears (Part 20) ~William Afton X F! Reader~

~Fluffy husband is always welcome! He's so dorky in this chapter it's almost cringy but we all need some golden-retriever Henry Emily in our life too. Sorry it took so long to write, I was really struggling with some writers block for a while so I apologise for any issues with the flow~

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tag List: @ruh--roh-raggy @h4nluv @sleepy---head @do-double-g @confiscated-peaches-main @dij-ology @viviennemuerte @robin-the-enby @shari-berri @randymeeksisafinalgirl @hallow1090 @aponia-yue @likoplays @dilflover-3 @oak-leafs @phd-in-fuckery @weirdoartist21 @nicolezghostz @fauine @emmbny

Sorry if I missed you on the tag-list!

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 30's), divorce/processing divorce, Afton being a sarcastic hot ass, grumpy x sunshine . Faz-Fuck TM

The sweet smell of something syrupy and sugar, fruit hidden beneath it, filled your nose in the morning. Turning over in the large bed, your hand reached out for William only to find the mattress cool beneath your fingertips and making your eyes snap open as sit up. Wincing slightly as your body twinged unhappily and you blinked away the last of the sleep clinging to your eyes before your legs slipped out of the bed and padded barefoot across the cool wooden floor.

The space looked so different in the daylight, a window built into the slanted roof opposite the bed let in a lot of natural light, chiffon curtains fluttering in the slight breeze as you realised it was open. His bedding was black sheets with a blue comforter and black pillows, a stark contrast to the pale walls and matching the dark wood of the furniture around the place. It weirdly felt appropriate that William straddled the line between open and airy space with darker elements.

Your footsteps were silent as you pressed on through the house, coming to the old stairs and pulling down William's t-shirt around your body before you reached the bottom. Hearing humming coming from the kitchen, you managed to peek your head around the corner and smiled as you saw his broad back to you. Still wearing those sweatpants that he'd pulled on last night, but clearly focused on cooking as he partly turned to grab something from the counter, his sharp features looking handsome in the soft lighting as his greying stubble made his cheeks look a little more hollow. His salt and pepper hair messy like he'd just woken up, squinting as you realised that this was the first time you were properly seeing him without his glasses.

"Welll good morning handsome." You called sleepily, watching as he practically jumped out of his skin and hissed as the distinct sound of somebody slamming their foot directly into the nearest solid surface was only just covered by the sharp intake of breath. Your hands flying to cover your mouth as you gasped too even though you were completely safe. "Oh my gosh, I'm so so sorry!"

"You're alright bunny, I didn't see you there." He laughed, crouching down to inspect any damage, more to his kitchen than himself before standing up tall once again and gently padding his way around the counter, his thick arms wrapped around you and holding you closely in a warm hug.

"How's my cute little superstar doing this morning?" He asked, kissing the top of your head as your arms wrapped around him in kind.

"Superstar? And I'm good...sore but good." Feeling him squeeze you tighter as he pulled back and inspected you with a frown, squinting in what looked like a slightly accusatory fashion.

"Bunny, baby-girl, you should have lead with that!" He began to ramble slightly as he focused on you, holding onto your shoulders and stroking his thumb over the curve of the joint appreciately as he seemed to tune you out almost in his slight panic.

"Will-"

" I'm sorry you're sore if I went too hard last night say and we don't have to do that again! Gosh I'm so stupid, I should have given you aftercare and made sure..no maybe I should have prepped you more-" Your own brows raised in slight amusement as you looked up at him, head cocked to one side as his voice slipped into that deep gravel.

"William."

"I am such a fool, an old fool! Bunny please can y-"

"WILLIAM AFTON." You finally broke through to him as he seemed to jolt at the use of his full name. Tensing before your hands reached up and cupped his cheeks lightly, thumbs stroking them over his stubbled cheeks and feeling him relaxing, torn from his little concerned spiral.

"William Afton, I love you. And last night was beautiful, and I wouldn't change it for the world, you hear me?" Watching his expression soften as you spoke,

"I do bunny...sorry I just..I wanted it to be special and I wanted to make you breakfast in bed and bring it up to you because you're special to me..I love you too."

"Good, now you've stopped panicking...is it bad timing to mention whatever you're cooking is burning?" Looking over his shoulder and towards the pan that was producing a little black smoke and smelt acrid, making William snap his head around and release you as he sprinted to the stovetop, swearing profusely as you dissolved into laughter over the whole situation.

If it was any indication as to what mornings were like in the Afton household, you were certain that you could live with that for the rest of your life.

It took William about another hour to clean up breakfast, or rather the cremated remains of the original breakfast plan and then to make some pancake batter, making sure that you had heaps of syrup, butter and cream on your pancakes that he even cheesily poured into a little heart shape.

It was entirely silly, but it was so cute that it made you smile even as you tucked in. Moaning at the taste on your tongue and William occasionally stealing bites from your fork and you from his as in the morning light, you both felt that playful spark passing between you. The cuteness of the morning suddenly broken by the telephone on his kitchen wall which had escaped your notice the night before ringing, William rolled his eyes and stood up, cracking his back before he picked up the reciever and crossed his broad arms across his chest, pressing a button on the wall unit so you could hear the full conversation.

"Morning to you Henry."

"Good morning Wil- Hey, how did you know it was me?" You stifled a giggle around a mouthful of pancake as William rolled his eyes again and rubbed his hand over his face.

"It's always you, the telemarketers don't even call this early anymore." William sighed before leaning against the wall, giving you a playful wink as he spoke to your mutual friend. "Anyway, you're not just calling for fun are you?"

"No, right! Yes... The reason I called!" You nearly choked as you could hear the mild confusion in Henry's voice before returning to it's naturally chipper state, probably forgetting why he was confused in the first place. "The reason I called is that I really need you to come in Will."

"It's my day off."

"Yes, I know I know, but one of the arcades isn't acting right and it's spitting out tickets when it's hitting low scores and nothing on the jackpot."

"Is it a One-Dee-Aye-Zero-Tee error?" He asked, taking a moment before you realised what he spelt and trying not to laugh even more as William gave you that confident smirk again that made your chest tighten up.

"No? You know I'm not familiar with all the error codes like you are! Please, please just come in for half an hour?"

"I uh...I would love to Henry but I genuinely can't." He replied, looking suddenly slightly sheepish as he moved his weight from one leg to the other, making you raise an eyebrow and point to yourself. William simply made a non-commital motion in return.

"Why? Wills if this is about your little guest that I presume is still there, just bring her along and I'll pay both of you for the day!"

"I can't drive, Henry."

There was a pregnant pause as you looked at the taller, older man with a furrowed brow and confusion written over your expression. Watching as even through the stubble you could see his cheeks flushing red and practically hear the gears of Henry's mind turning.

"Damn Will, I mean..did you like...break... it? Cause uh...wow that's mildly impressive almost if she-"

"No. No! God, no! Nothing like that!" William rubbed his hand over his face as he turned even more sheepish looking and could barely look in your direction as he tried to mumble something into the phone, only making you raise your eyebrows again. You could just hear Henry through the phone asking him to speak up however, clearly struggling to understand his friend as he tried to be discreet before William got frustrated and spoke loudly again.

"Look, I broke my damn glasses last night okay? I'm blind as fuck right now." You blinked in surprise as you vaugely recalled William throwing his glasses as they fogged up and bursting into uncontrolled giggled. Trying to clamp your hands over your mouth as you recieved a squinting death glare from your boyfriend as Henry spoke up again.

"You....How? Wait no, I don't want to know! But I do...but...how? How do you even???..." confusion evident in his voice as you tried and failed to stop your laughter.

"Look so I can try to get in but-"

"OH MY GOD IF YOU BROKE YOUR GLASSES WHAT DID SHE BREAK?!" you were unable to hide it as you burst out laughing, hearing Henry calling your name panickedly through the crackle of the telephone. "SPEAK TO ME, IF YOU NEED MEDICAL ASSISTANCE SAY 'PINEAP-"

William slammed the phone down on his friend as you looked at each other and burst out laughing again after a moment. Jokingly holding up some fingers and asking how many there were before William flipped you off and came over to kiss you, humming against your lips as he smiled into your laughter.

~~

"Bunny, we're going to be late." William laughed as he poked his head around the door to his room, looking at you sat on his bed and turning up the cuffs of the jeans he had leant you so that they wouldn't drag on the floor. He had had to lend you clothes for the day since you certainly weren't being let into Freddy's wearing that cute little dress from the night before, but his jeans drowned you even with one of his belts as tight it would go and a flannel shirt over a t-shirt.

You looked like you were a kid playing dress-up, but William simply smiled and padded over to you, wrapping his arms around you as he carefully tucked and adjusted the flannel to sit a little better on your much smaller frame.

"You look very cute though." Grinning as compared to his own lazy black t-shirt, opened pale yellow plaid shirt and jeans, you looked like a mini-him. Sticking your tongue out slightly as you shook your head.

"I look like a kid."

"No, you look like my beautiful bunny," He chastised playfully, giving you a slightly squinty smile as you noticed the bulge of his glasses tucked into his top pocket. It had admittedly been quite amusing when he revealed that they were really broken, one lens popped out and cracked so even if he could force it back into the frame, the vision would still be way off. You didn't remember him throwing it that hard the night before, but you supposed that you were focused on a lot more intense things instead.

"You're always going to say that, you love me." Rolling your eyes and watching as William raised an eyebrow before giving you a stern look and tutting through his teeth.

"I do love you, and here I thought you were a good girl."

"I am!"

"Good girls don't act like brats, they accept when their boyfriend says they're cute." Chuckling as he held your hand and kissed your forehead, humming against your skin before squeezing your hand and looking at you sheepishly again. "Although...I do need to ask a really big favour."

Crossing your arms after a moment, even in his squinty state, you looked all too cute and not in the least bit intimidating. Afton blinked and gave you that lopsided smile that made you melt, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close as he put his chin on your head. Breathing in and realising with a pang of both sadness and comfort that you smelled a little like his cologne as well as your own sweet perfume.

"I need you to drive us to work," He asked quietly, nuzzling into your shoulder as he dropped his head down, feeling you gently shake yours. "Please, I know you have a drivers licence."

"William..." You whined, feeling him turn his head and begin to place scratching kisses against your sensitive skin on your neck, murmuring 'please' against you between each one that made you think back to each delicious kiss the night before, groaning softly as you cradled the back of his head. "You're not playing fairly kissing me like that."

"You'll learn I don't always play fairly, bunny. Pretty please? I promise I'll take you to breakfast afterwards." Hearing the almost childish whine to his voice, you shook your head and laughed, carefully bringing his head up and kissing him as you looked at your handsome, older boyfriend and boss pouting like he hadn't gotten the candy he wanted.

"We've had breakfast, Will, both cremated and edible.

"Then I'll treat my pretty little bunny to ice-cream and cake and all the attention I can humanly lavish upon you?"

"Fine, twist my arm then. You're showing me how the hell to drive your car, and I'm not responsible for any scratches or paint work damage!" Kissing him again before taking his hand and walking down the stairs together, William holding your hand tightly and glad for the excuse that he could keep holding it for just a little bit longer.

~~

Driving through the small town and towards Freddy's whilst trying not to crash in William Afton's car that you definitely could not afford to replace, and you really hoped no cops pulled you over to ask for your registration details, was more stressful than you could have ever wanted to experience. Sure, you had a driving licence, but you didn't own a car and you were sure that the last time you had actually driven a vehicle was during your driving exam. But Afton had made it as comfortable for you as possible, and even allowed you to get out a block down from Freddy's and walk, since you both agreed that you weren't sure it was quite time to tell people about your relationship.

It felt strange, being inside the pizzeria without your uniform on now, and you called back to your first time arriving there, how nervous you had felt and how overwhelming the bright lights, colours and noise was. Now it felt strangely like home, like it really was a place where fantasy and fun could come to life.

Stacey wrapped you up in a bear hug once you got in, taking you slightly by surprise as you watched William slip in and through to the back hall to get his tool kit to fix the arcade, moving slower than normal to avoid earning an additional moniker to 'Wiffle Bat Willy' by punting a child in his blind state.

"Oh, em, gee! You're here on you're day off! Mr. Emily said you were sick on Friday and went home early and I was so worried!" The young woman gushed as she held you close and then at arms length, raising her eyebrow as you realised she had finally noticed what you were wearing. "And this...honestly isn't what I thought you would have as a personal style."

"Gee, thanks for your total vote of confidence!" You laughed, making your work friend laugh too as you shook your head. "It was what was clean and available." Not a total lie.

"Girl, stick a...darn...wash on, wear a skirt or something, god knows I would if I could right now!" Rolling your eyes at her statement, you looked over her shoulder at the groups of children running around carrying paper cups filled with half-strength sodas and hyper from pizza grease and carpet candy, raising your eyebrow as she followed your line of sight.

"Are you sure you want to keep to that statement?"

"On second thoughts, I have enough stains to get out of my clothes without having to scrub my legs raw to get off fizzy-Faz."

"Come on, find me a seat and I'll get a drink or something, I have to hang out for a bit anyway." It was Stacey's turn to raise an eyebrow now as you blushed, wondering if you had given too much away before she looked at the already blazing sunshine outside and sighed.

"Yeah, you don't want to be out there at the moment unless you're in some air conditioned car or bus. Come on, let's get you a table and I'll even get you a colouring sheet if you play nicely with the other kids!"

"Ha-ha, very funny." Ribbing her playfully in the ribs as you managed to snag a seat by the stage, prime real estate at Freddy's, and had a good view of the arcade, where you could see Will knelt on the floor and opening the back of a machine that had the 'out of order' panel placed over the screen.

"Oh look, you get a great view of Afton too!" Stacey laughed, making you blush more and smacking her arm as she retreated to just out of your reach. Cackling as she clearly enjoyed teasing you about what she presumed was a crush on your boss. "He's rubbing off on you too, that looks like one of his shirts."

You weren't sure how much hotter your cheeks could get as she disappeared to continue working, leaving you to sit and wait with your day dreams about what you would rather be doing as William Afton glanced over and gave you a soft smile that made you melt all over again.

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 1

read on ao3! (111k words) | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Story summary: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse.

Word count: 2k

Chapter 1: ‘Marked for Death’

Death coated the back of Juliet’s throat.

This was not unusual. The aroma of rot and decomposition was commonplace in the body disposal department of the Boston QZ. However, if Juliet could actually taste it simmering on her tongue, it meant one thing: she needed a new mask. 

The threadbare fabric tied tight around her nose and mouth was singed earlier in the day when her shift partner tossed a body, with more force than necessary, into the large fire pit in the middle of the square. A few wayward sparks had settled on her mask, gradually burning through the cheap material. 

Juliet often wondered how the sickly sweet smell of decay could still remain when fire and smoke cleansed the air.

It didn’t surprise her, though: death always lingered. 

It was hour eight of her usual Tuesday shift. One more hour and Juliet could collect her ration cards, find her way to the nearest fabric stall then drag herself back to her tiny apartment. Exhaustion weighed heavy on her today, settling in her bones and restricting her movements. Her shift followed a pattern: walk to the loading truck, pick up a body, place it in the fire and try not to look as the skin blackened and blistered. 

The same task, the same people, every week, every month and every year of her residence in the Boston QZ. Every day was a repeat of the previous but she was safe and she was hidden, which was all she could hope for. 

More bodies, more fire and her shift was over. Another day completed. Juliet used the stained fabric of her t-shirt to wipe the ash from her hands and forehead as she joined the ration queue. She was in line behind Joel Miller, a man who had worked at body disposal as long as she had, probably longer actually.

Tall, with broad shoulders and dark brown hair speckled with grey and ash, Joel Miller towered above her with more than his height. He was impressive, intimidating. Juliet watched as he stretched his neck to the side and wiped the sweat beading on his skin, his shoulders were tight, his stance solid. 

Joel had a presence difficult to ignore, being around him always felt like the air had a little less oxygen, as though he took up a bit more space than everyone else. He didn’t talk much, or ever really, just a few grunts and hard instructions grumbled under his breath to whoever was partnered with him on shift. 

Juliet found herself drawn to Joel, despite their lack of interactions. Her eyes would follow his movements as they worked, observing his cool indifference as he performed their grim duty. She would notice him around the QZ, too. He was a ghostly presence, often found haunting street corners and disappearing in a blink of an eye. 

Juliet knew little about Joel, only that he sold drugs to her weird neighbour who had drunkenly offered her some while attempting to break into her apartment the other night. She added another lock to her door after that.

“Next!” barked the ration officer, shaking Juliet from her thoughts. 

She took a step forward and watched as Joel disappeared around the corner, shuffling ration cards in his smoke covered hands. Juliet wondered if he, too, had grown entirely numb to their gruesome occupation.

Juliet wondered if something worse, something more ghastly, haunted his daily life. 

After collecting her ration cards and buying a new mask, Juliet made her way home to her crumbling one bedroom apartment. Home was perhaps a strong word, what with its peeling twenty-year wallpaper, mould stained ceilings and less than ideal neighbours. But it was her’s. 

Turning the corner onto her street, Juliet’s eyes landed on a hunched form on the front step of her building. Juliet let out a sigh, quickened her steps and forced a smile onto her face. Margaret was waiting for her.

Margaret was her eighty-five year old neighbour who lived on the bottom floor of their building. She enjoyed long conversations, hard liquor, and gossiping about the inner workings of her neighbour's lives. 

“Juliet!” Margaret gasped out.

“Hi, Margaret,” Juliet called as she approached, her plastered smile beginning to falter as Margaret struggled to stand.

Juliet moved to hold the woman’s frail arms, she was frantic, her hands grasping at Juliet’s shoulders, desperate to gain her full attention.

“No, you must listen,” Margaret began, before doubling over, releasing a series of strangled coughs and gasps.

“Someone,” she coughed. “Someone was here…” croaked Margaret while pointing her shaking hand behind her, towards the door. 

“What? Who?” Juliet asked, she had never seen Margaret so panicked before. 

“Oh it was awful,” Margaret began, once again clutching Juliet’s arms, her arthritic fingers formed in a vice-like grip. 

“I was knitting at my dining table, working on my sweater… I must show you Juliet, it’s looking so wonderful, I used…”

“Stay focused,” Juliet interrupted, her voice soft and pleading. “What happened?”

“Yes! So, then I heard what sounded like someone marching through the hallway,” Margaret continued, her words quick and tense. 

“I knew it wasn’t yourself or Kenny because you were both working. So I got up and looked out my peep-hole.” Margaret’s voice had grown quieter, now almost a whisper.

“And I watched as two men with dark jackets walked past my door and headed upstairs”

“Next thing I know, I hear this horrendous crash. Now, I know it must have been bad because I could hear it! And you know how terrible my hearing is.”

Shock covered Juliet’s features, their apartment building had always been quiet, always lucky to avoid the crime raging the Boston QZ. 

“Did you see them leave?” Juliet asked, her voice urgent.

“Yes, thank god,” Margaret answered. “But dear… I think it was your apartment they went into, and by the sound of it, they surely broke down the door.”

Fuck, Juliet thought. Her heart now feverishly pumping the familiar blaze of fear throughout her body. “Stay here,” Juliet ordered, her voice hard as she moved to release her arms from the old woman’s grip. “I’ll go check it out.”

“Please be careful,” Margaret urged, clasping her hands together in a silent prayer. 

Stepping into the building, Juliet paused, listening. So familiar with the hum of her neighbours’ usual routines, Juliet could recognise any foreign noise. But no sound was unusual, nothing was amiss… that she could hear anyway. 

Feeling somewhat certain no strangers were lurking in the building, ready to emerge from a dark corner and grab her, Juliet decided to keep moving.

Climbing the steps to the first floor, her body was on high alert; any weariness from her gruelling shift was gone, adrenaline now coated her muscles. Only a sharp, steady focus remained. 

Reaching her apartment, Juliet stopped, her feet frozen. The door lay open with three of her four locks fractured, surrounded by splintered wood and chipped paint. The fourth lock lay on the floor by her feet, where it must have fallen after being brutally pried from the door. Juliet felt a sinking feeling deep in her gut. Each lock had become an emblem of her security in the Boston QZ. Now they were shattered. A stark reminder that her safety was never guaranteed. 

Juliet reached out, her fingers grazing the fractured wood as she gingerly pushed the door all the way open, moving into her apartment. A deep breath and a long exhale later, Juliet stood in her dining area, eyes now locked on a piece of folded paper on her kitchen table. 

She moved closer, Juliet’s body had lost its stamina, her limbs weighed her down. Each step towards the yellowed piece of paper was like wading through dark, chilled water. 

When she was close enough to recognise the handwriting, everything stilled. The air, the room, her beating heart… all slowing around her. A chorus of no, no, no, no, no, surged through her mind, spiralling inward, forming a shield around the memories threatening to resurface at the sight of that familiar scrawl. 

One hand gripped the edge of the table, tangled in the tablecloth, while the other tentatively lifted the paper. ‘My sweet Juliet’ it read in writing she knew so intimately it could have been etched on her heart. Carved with a sharp, brutal knife. 

A high pitched ringing enveloped her mind, numbing all sound apart from the echo of her shallow breaths. Juliet’s ash caked fingernails traced the edge of the worn paper, she pulled it apart to reveal a message: 

‘Juliet, 

How does it feel living so far from home? Surrounded by strangers. 

I admit I was shocked that night you left, I wondered what more you could desire, out in the wasteland of our world, that I had not provided you with? I imagine you have come to the conclusion, by now, that there is nothing else worth living for than the love of our lord. You see, I have eyes and ears in places you could never imagine. My men know the power of our lord and live with his blessing every day. I sent these men to find you, Juliet. I sent them to bring you this message. 

I have your friend Ethan in my care now, he has taken your place until you return to me. I have every hope that will be soon my dear, Juliet. He, too, screams when the judgement of our lord is upon him.  

Travel safely; the lord does not bless the sinners of this earth, 

Your father.’  

Ethan… No.  

Three years, three blissful years only focused on her own survival, liberated from the torture of her childhood. She left Ethan behind, she thought he would be safe. She was wrong, so very wrong.

Why, though, had her father waited so long to find her? To threaten her with Ethan’s safety? His life? She must have hidden well, burrowed herself so deep in the mundane of everyday QZ life, that even her father’s men, dotted about the country, had not found her for three years. 

Yet now her nameless existence had come to an end, slaughtered in a matter of seconds. Juliet’s hand clenched, crushing the paper within her palm. 

She had to go back. For Ethan, she would go back. 

The thought alone made her choke on her breath, gasping for air in the silent room.

Experience had taught her not to take her father’s threats lightly. 

Her journey to Boston was monstrous. Juliet witnessed sights which forever scarred the insides of her eyelids, appearing before her on dark and sleepless nights. Could she travel that distance again? Alone? Knowing what’s out there? No… she would die and so would Ethan. 

Juliet stumbled to her moth-eaten couch and sank into the decaying cushions. She reached her shaking hands to her eyes and pressed her fingers to her eyelids, pushing harder until only a dark nothingness remained. Her life in the Boston QZ was over…for Ethan she would return to the man who haunted her every step, his existence always reminding her she would never be fully free. 

Reluctance acceptance washed over her. For Ethan she would return to her prison, almost assuredly never to escape again. 

Removing her hands from her eyes, Juliet released a trembling sigh. Accepting her powerlessness brought a distance from her emotions. The thought of Ethan and the immediacy of the situation had started to drown out her terror and regret, leaving behind a cold numbness. 

In her emotionless stupor, Juliet started to plan her way out of the QZ.

A loose floorboard hid a map and a variety of makeshift weapons, including a switchblade which Juliet liked to keep sharp. Both were now on the coffee-table before her, Juliet hunched over the map tracing her journey with the tip of her blade.

There was one problem she couldn’t solve: this was not a journey she could make alone. Juliet survived her journey to Boston on sheer luck and willpower. She would risk her own life, but not Ethan’s. She had to get there alive.

Her blade stilled, its tip pierced through the rough paper into the hardwood table. Juliet’s racing thoughts had settled on the one person she knew had both spent a significant amount of time outside of the QZ and had a route out…

Joel Miller. 

Fuck.

[nocturnesmoon]

Your guard dog

Tags: mild dark content(?), gender-neutral reader, random little story of the day that I'll probably never turn into a fledged out fic cuz I have too many projects, but it's on the list-

Simon has always been an honest man.

It's something he prides himself in. He may be tall, dark, terrifying to most around him, but he would rather have something horrible happen to him, than outright lie on purpose, especially to you.

When you first met, it went how it usually goes for people that are unfortunate enough to be in his presence. You were polite, as much as anyone else, not too interested in the big off-putting soldier that lurks in the back of the room.

Simon had never thought that you would stick around, nor did he expect that your tipping point would be an innocent birthday gift. You had been so enamoured by the fact he had actually listened to the things you said, and observed your actions, enough to give you probably the most accurate gift you've received in a long time.

One thing led to another, and years later the two of you find yourselves in a committed relationship.

There are a lot of things you can say about Simon. A common denominator is that he really has never knowingly lied to you. A feat you find impressive, gathered from earlier partners. He has his secrets, things in his past that he wishes to keep buried still, but he never lies to you.

Whenever you ask, he answers.

It's how it's always been.

The fact doesn't change when he then does things in secret. If you ask where he's been, he'll answer you honestly, if you ask what he's been doing he answers honestly, whether you like the answer or not.

He's always been good to you that way. If he ever catches a whiff of jealousy from you, he waits for you to come to him. You'll ask about his doings, he'll answer you accordingly, calmly, and quench whatever feelings pile up in your head. He knows he never has to stress about it, because all his actions are in servitude to you.

Whenever he goes on deployment, he knows how you miss him, how you wish you could be there with him, though it'd be dangerous for you. So he brings you things back, things of his loyalty, things that you would want and cherish, (Ignoring the fact that you'd cherish practically anything he gives you.)

When he's home he's even more devoted to you. Follows you around like a pup in need of attention, a pup that transforms into a fierce guard dog the moment you leave the house. Even if he tells you that his job is dangerous, you never fully get why he's so protective of you, like someone was going to take you away when he looks the other way. In many ways you don't mind it, it pays off having a big threatening soldier at your back to keep creeps away.

As nice as it is to have him though, he's not always there, and despite how you trust him, you don't like the dark look in his eyes whenever you tell him about an encounter you had with some creepy person trying to hit on you.

Once when you were idly cuddling on the couch, one rainy Saturday, you had playfully asked if he would ever kill for you. You hadn't expected a serious answer, maybe you had even expected him to scold you for asking such a question, given his job and having to deal with death in his life in that way. You hadn't expected for him to say yes so determinedly, a little too sure of it.

It's not the first time you've noticed odd behaviour from him. His overprotective nature can get a bit overbearing at times, he doesn't want you near any remotely dangerous object, occasionally he'll even get pissy about you using kitchen knives. God forbid you do accidentally hurt yourself on some object he told you not to use, with a grumpy attitude he'll patch you up, scolding you mildly, and the next time you go to use the same object it's mysteriously vanished or out of reach for you.

He has his own little policy for you as well, any and all problems you face, you come to him with. You found it nice, finally having such a tentative partner that listened so carefully. You hadn't expected that he was going to make most of your problems disappear on top of that. It was simple things at first. The coffee machine broke, he removes it and gifts you a new one. There's a thing at work you find frustrating, well the task is soon gone mysteriously. Even with himself, he does a thing that's your pet peeve, he changes it, makes the problem disappear.

It starts out small, and then it gets a bit weirder. You have an argument with a family member? The next time you see them they apologize profusely, and the matter is dropped, though they seem rattled. You think your neighbour is rude? Well look at that, they're moving out very, very soon.

You don't truly start to question it, before you notice the co-worker you complained about, disappeared without notice.

You try to hint at it to Simon, to subtly ask him if he had a finger in it. His answer is what terrifies you more, "careful what you ask of me, darling." You should be careful what questions you ask him what you tell him, because Simon is an honest man. You ask, he answers.

It makes you revaluate what you let him know, you start keeping minor problems to yourself, things or people that annoy you are reserved for your mind. He notices of course, he understands his darling is nervous of his actions, but he needs you to understand what he is doing, he is doing for you.

He starts figuring out your problems behind your back. You don't even need to tell him anymore, he will always know. There isn't anywhere you could go where he wouldn't reach you, where he wouldn't keep you safe and protected. You're his, just as he's yours.

Your true breaking point comes when the police shows up at your work place. They question you about the co-worker that had left work, not long after having an argument with you. You learn that this person hasn't been seen by anyone for several months.

You stomp home, knowing Simon is the only person that could've had anything to do with it. Your questions are met by a dark chuckle, he isn't even taking his own actions serious, not the way you're framing them. You plead with him to stop, to keep his work and your life completely separate.

His answer leaves you with nothing, "I can't promise you that darling, I'm doing this for you. You're mine."

Your only choice is to adapt, you don't ask the questions because you won't like the answers.

And when he goes out late at night without a word, coming back in the morning with blood on his hands, you wash it off gently, and bite your tongue.

Reminder that requests are open if you've got an idea you want written.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, love ya<3

[gldrushsblog]

SUGAR AND SIN | JK

🧁✧ ˚. TITLE: Sugar and Sin.

🧁✧ ˚. PAIRING: Mafia boss! Jungkook x female oc

🧁✧ ˚. BLURB: Aurora Beckett had simple plans for the night: clean up the counter, finish boxing up the last batch of strawberry cupcakes, and maybe catch up on her favorite drama. Until the click of a gun spoiled the tiles of her bakery and her plans.

🧁✧ ˚. GENRE: Mafia au, grumpy x sunshine, forced proximity, slow burn, dark romance, crime/thriller.

🧁✧ ˚. WARNINGS: This chapter contains a violent scene involving murder, as well as mentions of nausea and a character passing out.

🧁✧ ˚. TAGS: oc is traumatized and on the verge of throwing up but she's also a little weird, jk is having fun cosplaying as a satanic entity for the night

🧁✧ ˚. A/N: This chapter's a lot shorter than the average word count I write but I hope it's intriguing enough for people to keep reading. Also please don't hesitate to type out your comments and opinions. I love to read them and stay informed with what clicks for you and for doesn't.

🧁✧ ˚. TAG LIST: @scuzmunkie ... (Please do let me know if any of you want to be added too.)

CHAPTER 1: AURORA

Aurora had two problems tonight.

Her frayed nerves that showed no sign of settling down any time soon, and the blood on the once-pristine white tiles of her bakery floor, which were sometimes grazed with flour and all that.

The latter and former both caused by a group of tall and dark figures of men that barged inside the dim lighted interior of her bakery that she was just about to pack up like they were out to hunt. From what she could see from the corner of the counter she was hiding behind and trying to squeeze herself further away into the darkness, the prey in question was another stumbling man who fell his way before them, backing on his palms as he slid on the floor, a messy trail of blood following right after him as the group of men loomed forward with a errie calmness. She visibly winced at that before taking advantage of the soft darkness and lifting her gaze up and instantly retreating back.

Gods, she had never regretted turning down Lia's offer to drop her home more than she did now. But no, she wanted to finish baking one last batch, just to get ahead for tomorrow.

Now she was hiding from men who looked like they made up the gateway of hell.

 

Clad up in all black with their forms blended into the shadows, save for the luminosity of moon light spilling through the window. They could’ve been anyone, anyone except the customers who regularly graced her small bakery. Definitely not the kind who ordered pastries.

She should have been afraid for her life. She was, in part. But another part of her was horrified at the blood—so much blood—coating the clean floor where she spent her days baking treats. A morbid thought crossed her mind: it was going to take forever to scrub that out.

She tried to shake off the absurdity of the thought and focused on the bigger issue that screamed that she was going to be the next one on their hit list. She doubted her capability to hide here, to hide her frantic heartbeat from all of them because it was all she could hear, until that changed too like her mundane nights.

"Done running?" A deep gravelly voice echoed louder than her heartbeat in the small space that was her bakery, followed with clear thumps of footsteps against the floor. And that's when her eyes took in the sight of a man who was probably what waited you inside that gateway.

He was wearing black too, of course, but somehow he stood out, and when he walked further, the other men looked nothing but mere shadows surrounding this larger unexplainable force.

"It was getting really fun." He drawled as if murder was a game, and the man cowering on the floor was just another player who had lost. It took all her might not to dig a hole somewhere here and hide further. It seemed to have the same effect on the cowering and trembling man on the floor as well that whimpered pleads for mercy which were unheard by lucifer himself and her as well because the sound of conflict in her head was louder.

She felt guilty and all kinds of words related to it because she was a present presence here, watching a man on the verge of getting killed in her property, doing nothing. She tried to fumble for her phone in the pocket of her apron as quietly as she could, but to her unfortune, it was on the far end of the countertop - a distance that felt like a mile now. She didn’t dare move, and the moral lecture she had rehearsed in her head earlier evaporated when she heard the sound of a gun clicking as well as her will scattering.

Her wide eyes that were going anywhere but the scene unfolding in front of her stopped at two inky voids like black ink splashed across a page, who found her before she could and was staring straight at her, penetrating through her very being as he too was crouching down on the floor, making a surge of panic run through her as the idea of her being seen settled in.

He saw her.

Her heart stopped.

Yet when she saw him stay blank and unamused as ever, even when he caught on an unexpected presence, she chose to second thought her plan to scream and run. Or she was forced to do so because his eyes had her frozen and stiff, unable to breathe.

Her heartbeat even came to a pause if that was possible, and then before she knew it was resuming that violent pace when she saw his lips moving. 

"Close your eyes."

Despite the pounding in her heart, she caught the words.

Yet she didn't obey, and that was the second time she felt regret flooding in the night when a quick click of the bullet leaving his cocked gun echoed around. The relief she felt for one moment when she wasn't on the receiving end of his chilling gaze washed away the moment the prey of a guy's brain spilled on the floor.

Blood. Blood. Blood. That was all in her line of sight as the man collapsed dead on the floor. Blood. Pooling around him. Blood. Everywhere. 

Aurora felt her throat work, her stomach twisted, a nauseous feeling overtaking her before she gathered whatever self preservation was left in her and forced her palm tightly against her mouth to not let out the sound of horror that was bubbling. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. But all she could do was press her back harder against the counter, eyes glued to the body now lying lifeless on the bakery floor.

Her eyes, unblinking, slid up to the man who had penetrated the life out of a once alive being. The man stood over the corpse, expression unreadable. The gun hung loosely in his gloved hand, as though the life he had just taken was of no consequence to him. As if this was routine.

It didn't suprise her but horrified her further.

Would she be the next on the floor with life draining out of her as well as her blood, begging for his non existing mercy?

Her answer was his eyes stopping at her quivering and crouched figure again from the corner.  Her vision had blurred over the time he was turned toward her after barking orders at his men—orders she couldn’t hear over the deafening roar of her heartbeat. She barely registered the sound of footsteps until they were close—too close.

And then, darkness.

With a last prayer to gods above, her body shut out with the last thing she saw before her eyes blacked out, being the devil coming for her.

To be continued...

[xxchaosjojoxx]

Just one dance (Penguin x reader)

A/N: I need Penguin in a suit please. Gimme this please. If you draw him in a suit, withput hs hat or writing something like that as well tag me please. I am down for it. I couldn't help but blushing as well. We don't know what his hair looks like neither his eyes. I imagine him like this, hopefully it's ok for you even if he looks differently in your headcannon :3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Penguin, will you be my plus one?” You asked. Penguin looked at you with a shocked expression. “W-Why me?” He asked back.

We docked on this island yesterday evening and while we were exploring the island you met a familiar face. “Y/N is that you?” A pretty and tall blonde woman was looking at you with a big smile. Long story short. This pretty woman was your best friend since you could think. Her family moved away when you were 10 years old. Her father was the mayor of this village.

“Say, is there a festival going on?” You asked her and she responded with a smile. “Yeah we will celebrate a wedding and you my dear y/n.” She handed me an envelope “Have to come. I sent one to your mom a few months ago. But she told me that you were no longer on the island. Living your dream as a pirate. I assume the pirates outside are your crewmates?” She asked and you nodded happily why accepting the envelope. “Yeah they are like family. I don’t know If I could join, because we wanted to leave tomorrow. But I’ll ask my captain.”

You would love to attend the wedding of your old best friend. You cherished the memories with her in your heart.

“I would love to meet one of your crewmates. I’m sure you will join the wedding with one special person, huh?” She giggled at you while you were blushing. “Your mom told me that you met a nice pirate back then. He was your type. Well, we will see each other tomorrow night then.” With that she was gone. Soon enough you were looking for your captain and asking him a favor. After you told him the situation he was still looking grumpy at you. “Please Captain, she is my best friend. Pretty please?” You tried your best to give him the puppy look. “FINE! We can stay here for 2 more nights and you can attend the wedding party. BUT!” He pointed a finger at me. “No Hook ups. Capiche?”

Your face turned dark red. “W-What? I would never do that, you know that.”

With a happy smile you went shopping with Ikkaku and Bepo. Shachi agreed to do your hair before the wedding starts. He worked as a hairdresser a long time ago. This fact surprised you. So all you have to do is get a dress and get a dance partner. It didn’t take long as you found the most beautiful dress you ever laid eyes on. The last part on your list was getting a partner and you had the perfect match in your mind.

Back to the present you look at Penguin. “I feel comfortable around you and I don’t wanna be the only person attending this without having a dance partner.” You couldn’t tell him that you fell in love with him as soon as you saw him. He was the reason why you joined the Heart Pirates, but this was a thing that he doesn’t even need to know.

Penguin was nervously scratching his neck. “B-But I can’t dance plus I don’t even have a suit, why should I? It’s not necessary for us anyway.”

You looked at him with big eyes. “Pen please.” He sighed “C-Can’t I just go with ehm.. casual clothes?” You pouted. “I dunno. She is the mayor's daughter after all. Maybe Law has a suit for you? Or we can ask the stores if you can lend one?” He tried to resist your cute big eyes “Hng…OK FINE.” He groaned and blushed a little. “I will ask the captain or the shop owner.”

You beamed at him and hugged him tightly for a few seconds. “YOU are the BEST. One more thing tho.”

He was panicking. What more is there?

“Ehm… I suppose you have to go without your hat.. and ehm..” Penguin interrupted you with a loud “HELL NO!”

You were looking at him blankly. “This hat and me…we are one. ABSOLUTELY NOT!. Never. Nope! I’m sorry but no. Maybe you should find another person.” And with that Penguin stormed off. He felt insecure. Only a few people saw him without his signature hat. It wasn’t that he thought he would be ugly or something like that. He was scared that you wouldn't find him attractive anymore if you were able to see his messy black hair or his eyes that he tried to hide whenever you were looking at him directly.

You were heartbroken, you stumbled to the next bench, crying. It was not typical for Penguin to react like that. You realized that someone sat beside you, patting your back softly to comfort you. “It’s ok. Don’t cry please. I can’t handle this.” You recognize the voice of your captain, Trafalgar Law. With a sniff and teary eyes, you looked at him. Before you were able to speak, words came out of his mouth. “I have no idea why he reacted like that. I mean I can only guess. I can believe I’m doing this.” He was looking down on you, with a stern look on his face but a light blush on his cheeks. “I allowed you to attend the party, so if you want…I can accompany you. But I won’t dance. Ok?” You looked at him in shock. Never ever did you ever think that Trfalgar law, your captain, the surgeon of death, would say something like…this. You blinked a few tears away. Law was nervous. “We can still leave the island, if you prefer this.” He mumbled.

The day of the wedding arrived. After Ikkaku helped you with your dress, and Shachi did your hair, Law accompanied you like a gentleman to the wedding. He was wearing a suit, this was one of the rare occasions where you saw him without his hat on.

“Don’t stare at me or I’ll leave.” He said calmly. You were sitting there, enjoying the groom and the bride. Her wedding dress was beautiful. It was long, white with a heart necklace. It was her dream dress. You often talked about your wedding when you were younger. It was an emotional wedding. After the official part ended, Law excused himself to check on the Polar Tang really quickly. So while the rest were dancing inside, you were waiting outside, sitting on a bench. You could hear the music outside too. But now you were alone, sulking, feeling sad that you were left alone again. This was the perfect chance to get closer with Penguin, getting quality time with him. You sighed and you tried your best not to cry.

As you were looking down the ground you saw a pair of shoes before you. As you lit your head, you saw a young man before him. You never saw him, he was a total stranger to you. It was dark outside, so the lights from the party and the streets were shining on him. His right hand was at the back of his head, while he held his other hand towards you. He had black short hair and he really looked handsome.

“Excuse me.” You were surprised to hear his gentle voice suddenly. “C-Can I have this dance, by any chance?” He asked you nervously. It must have taken a lot of courage to ask a stranger this kinda question out of nowhere. You were stunned and were looking for Law.

“I am waiting for my partner ehm..” But you soon remembered that, even if Law would be there, he wouldn’t dance with you at all. With a sigh and a polite smile, you rose up and took his hand. “...I guess one dance is ok.” He was smiling at you and as you looked into his eyes you were stunned. His eyes were icy blues. They looked like the moonlight shimmering on the water. He positioned his hands nervously around you so he could dance with you slowly. “I’m not the best dancer. Sorry.” he said and looked at him with a smile. “Me neither.” Even though you never saw him, you felt pretty comfortable with him. His hands were warm, soft and still firm. His eyes were gentle and the most beautiful you have ever seen. This man was absolutely magnificent and everything felt so familiar. His smile, his voice, his touch. You felt happy just to see his smile.

The song began to slow dance and you automatically closed the distance between your bodies. You couldn’t help getting lost in his eyes, in his touch. He had control over you and it felt like a dream. As the song ended you both leaned in closer, there was just a little gap between your faces.

“You wanna dance with me again? Getting Lost in the moment one more time?” he asked you with a husky voice. You felt a shiver down your spine. You felt attracted to him, without any doubt.

“I.. I would love to.” You stuttered and looked between his lips and eyes. “But I can’t sorry. I am interested in someone and I wanna stay loyal to him, even if this love is one sided.”

You gazed into his eyes. “I am sorry. I really am.”

He was smiling sadly at you. “I see.” This handsome stranger was disappointed and so were you. “I guess you meant it earlier. That you just feel comfortable with me and need only a dance partner.” You were confused white he let out a low chuckle. “I guess it’s a good thing that the captain accompanied you for the official part at least. I mean.. Captain looks better in a suit than me, I suppose.”

You were blinking a few times as you tried to understand what the man in front of you talked about. Your hands cupped his face. “Pen..? Is that you?” You asked shyly and the man before you tried to avoid your gaze. “Yeah…who else? Captain said, you wanted to dance with me and asked me if I would be up for dressing like this for you at least for just one dance. Because I made you sad.. But I guess we were wrong.”

“Wait, Law said he had to check on the polar tang..not that you two were switching places. Not that I didn’t want to dance with you. I did. You were the one I wanted to go to this wedding in the first place.”

Penguin looked at you nervously. His eyes were staring into yours. “You..didn’t realize it was me?” You shook your head. “Your voice sounded familiar and your smile was as precious as I remember. But your eyes..” Penguin tried to cover his eyes with his hand, but you grabbed his hand. “Your eyes are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Penguin was blushing. “R-Really?” - “Yeah I was shocked that such a handsome stranger would ask me for a dance. I could see that it took a lot of courage.”

He gulped and squeezed your hand a little bit. “You look very beautiful tonight y/n. I mean you always look beautiful. Are you disappointed that it’s me?”

You smiled at him. “Of course not. Why should I?”

Penguin tried to find the right words. “You wanted to stay loyal to your heart. I’m sorry for crossing a boundary by trying to kiss you earlier. For a moment I thought you would want it too. But maybe it was just the heat of the moment and I-” You interrupted him with a gentle kiss on his lips. After a while you parted away and looked at him with so much love and affection in your eyes. “Wanna guess, why were you the only person I asked to accompany me? Because I have this silly crush on you. Captain couldn’t see me crying and offered to join me, so I could enjoy this evening without being alone.”

Penguin was speechless. “So you rejected me for…me?” You both chuckled. “I guess so.”

He leaned in, and as soon as you closed your eyes, you felt a pair of lips on yours. This moment was magical and you wished that this evening would never end.

[aliorsboxostuff]

bob Floyd x male reader who is quiet and intimidating, only to silently become a guard dog to him

idk I haven't slept, hope this makes sense

OOOOOH THIS TURNED OUT SO NICE TBH I love grumpy x sunshine sm :(( it's such a cute trope uGHHH and writing this was such a trip lmao I loved how it turned out tbh thanks so much for the idea!! so I hope you all do too!

Note: Reader is regarded as Panther for his callsign. The fic is in a 3rd POV.

Stone-Cold

Tags: Robert Floyd/Male Reader, Bob x Male-aviator!Reader, sunshine x grumpy!!, Robert Floyd, Natasha Trace, Bradley Bradshaw, Jake Seresin, Halo, Fritz, Yale, Rest of the Dagger Squad, Maverick, Iceman, Penny, Meet-cute, First meeting, Fluff, Implied smut, kissing, making out, getting together, separation, slight angst, time skips, NOT TOO MUCH THO!, No use of Y/N, slight OOC, Background Icemav, Background Sereshaw, Background relationships, i don't know shit about fighter pilots, only did small research lmao

Bob met Panther, a dark-eyed individual who never even glanced in his direction. But that soon changes when he finally gains his friendship and the two hit it off, flying through a healthy relationship, a falling out, and a reunion. 

—

The first time Bob met Panther was in basics. Panther stood a foot taller than him, with dark eyes that were only focused on the board whenever they were in class. Due to his height, Panther was situated in the back, just two rows behind where Bob usually sits. A suffocating dark air seems to always follow the man, making his classmates, including Bob, avoid him most of the time. It doesn't help that the man barely talks, it's a miracle they even knew his Callsign. 

They say he got it after someone from his old crew saw him in the middle of the night, outside of the building, with glowing golden eyes. Paired with his big build, Bob hopes the Callsign story is nothing but a rumor of some drunken crew that stumbled his way and saw Panther that night. 

It was a usual Wednesday. His class has departed to spend their lunchtime while Bob makes his way to the cafeteria, reviewing the lesson plan inside his head. While he was too engrossed in his little ramblings, he hadn't realized he bumped into someone waiting in the line in front of him. Bob immediately stops and rubs his nose which took the burn of the bump. 

“Sorry!” He quickly musters, realizing he had to incline his head in order to meet the person's eyes, and much to his surprise, it was Panther. The man raised a brow and fixed Bob with a stare that made the shorter pilot gulp. Suddenly, Panther shrugs and turns back around, as if to brush off an insignificant bug. Now that is a treatment Bob is familiar with, so he’s back to looking down into his binder while waiting for his turn.

After obtaining his lunch, he looks around for his usual table, on the far end of the large room. He smiles to himself as he spots it vacant and makes his way to his place. As he sets his tray down, a similar noise follows. Bob raises his head to find Panther, he was the one placing his tray in front of Bob. His eyes widen, panic settling in before he hears the tall man in front of him speak. “Is… this seat taken?”

To hear Panther's voice was a rarity, the man only spoke in class if their instructor specifically asked him to answer. He sounded… Timid—Far from what Bob’s expectation was. The brunette stumbles on his words, finding his voice to answer the man in front of him. 

“N-no, go ahead,” Bob manages a welcoming smile, well, he hopes it was welcoming. Panther nods, and takes his seat and so does Bob. He puts aside his binders and readjusts his glasses, a nervous habit. He finds himself looking at his tray of food, then back to his books, then to the blank table. Bob doesn't know what to do with his hands. Awkwardness surrounds both of them.

“I see you took notes of today's class,” Panther was the one who broke it. 

Bob perks, before he sheepishly nods. “Yeah its, uh- good for review,”

“Do you think… You can explain some stuff to me? I didn't really catch today's lesson…” The taller man looks to his side, then scratches the back of his neck. Behind his glasses, Bob’s eyes lit up, before he smiled and nodded, his hands already on their way to open one of his many binders.

That was the start of Bob's and Panther's friendship. He admits, he never had the best experience with his peers. Most of the time he’s left alone or is only noticed whenever they have a question, no one ever truly became close with Bob. No one’s ever picked on him, that would be childish, but then again—If you pile some humans filled with testosterone in one shower room, there's bound to be some name-calling or stink eyes. Bob has had his fair share of it, never taken it to heart, even if some days it hurts more than it looks. 

But ever since Panther spends his lunch with Bob, the other guys have chosen to leave him alone, even in the shower rooms. No one ever laughed behind his back again, those whispers whenever he was in class or passing by has also disappeared. Panther has spent the better half of his day sticking to Bob, being by his side, going where Bob is going, and only separates when they have different schedules or if he was waiting for his own turn in the rec room while Bob is in training. 

It’s been a couple of months since their initial meeting now. Bob and Panther are well into their flight training program, and are currently leading in their class grade. Two of the best in their class, with Bob having a couple of scores above Panther. 

The clock barely touched 8 PM. Panther was lounging about in Bob’s room, with his roommate being somewhere in the city, no doubt getting drunk between girls, Panther was free to roam in his best friend's room. Bob is currently on his bed, reading something from a textbook while Panther was doing nothing in particular on the floor, his long limbs strewn about. The only thing illuminating the room is the stripes of moonlight and the dim light of Bob's bedside lamp. 

“Hey Bob,” Panther calls from the floor. Bob hums. “Ever thought of getting into Top Gun?” 

Bob tilts his head slightly. He closes the textbook, putting his glasses aside before leaning on the edge of his mattress. “Maybe. Why?”

“Nah, just thought if you wanted to, you could,” Panther grins up to a confused Bob.

“What's that supposed to mean?” The brunette smiles, strands of his fringe falling into his eyes. 

“You’re smart. Smarter than all of us in class, not to mention you’re a half-decent pilot,” Bob chuckles at that, now fully leaning down to meet his friend's eyes. Panther smiles up at him. “I think you’d make it into Top Gun.”

While Bob doesn't have his glasses on, Panther's smile is just as warm, feeling it seeping into his skin. “You smile more around me,” 

Panther’s smile faltered slightly, before he suddenly sat up, supported by his arms behind him, and then they were inches apart. Bob’s eyes widen, finding how close his friend is sitting, he can practically breathe him in. The brunette blinks, swallowing a lump. “That day, the first time we talked, why did you choose to sit with me?”

Panther’s lips are parted slightly. “I just… I knew you weren't as shit as the others,” 

Bob huffs a laugh and Panther mimics it. “Really?” 

“Yeah, plus…” Panther leans closer, his voice drops into a whisper. “You were the only one worth talking to,” 

It happened so slowly. Bob closes his eyes before he feels the man's lips on his, trusting himself wholly to Panther. He feels himself being pushed, his hands scrambling to wrap around Panther's shoulders before he pushes Bob onto the bed and he climbs in himself, lips never parting. He presses and presses, until Bob's lips part and he feels Panther's tongue slips in, which makes Bob groan between their breath and pants. Bob finds himself laid beneath Panther, feeling his friend's hair between his fingers, the solid weight on top of him calms his pestering anxiety. He’s shared a kiss or two, and dated some girls and one boy, but has never gone as far as making out. But despite it all, Panther's mere existence on top of him, caging him in, soothes his worries, and is willing to follow Panther into the long night.

He’s lucky his roommate came back late because he had to kiss Panther goodbye as he sneaked back into his room, not before he heard the man groan from outside his doors; something about his roommate asking questions about last night, which made Bob laugh. 

Before Panther left, they had woken up in each other's arms, Bob had the best sleep he’s had in years. Panther was playing with Bob’s curly morning hair, before the more petite man groans and reaches numbly for his glasses, at which Panther laughs and hands it to him. Once he situated his glasses, he finds himself looking at the man on top of him, a soft smile between those addicted lips. “Morning,” He said.

“Mornin’” Bob drawls, turning to face Panther. He smiles, before pressing a kiss to Bob's temple, which Bob closes his eyes upon feeling it. Instead of pulling back, Panther stays there.

“I hope this isn't a one-time thing,” He mumbles into Bob's curls. The brunette blinks, before he pulls back to meet Panther's eyes. 

“It isn't.” So serious, so sure of his words. Bob was famous for his hesitation, for his timidness in front of his peers, but this. This, he’s confident about. 

Pather’s blank stare breaks into a smile, before he dives back in and smothers Bob with kisses, pulling him right back into his arms, and they spend the rest of the dawn just like that. 

—

Bob graduated on top of his class. Pather follows just behind him, but despite it, they’re both worthy of their wings of gold. 

After their graduation ceremony, after the pictures and congratulations from instructors and family members, and awkwardly meeting Bob’s cheerful parents and myriads of siblings, after meeting Panther's own family, the two finally manage to sneak away. Panther pulls Bob into the back of his Land Rover, the shorter male giggling as his boyfriend smothers him in kisses.

“I’m so proud of you,” Panther smiles, pulling back from his grinning boyfriend. Bob's glasses are askew, a wide smile on his lips. He can feel himself blushing, the steady heat spreading through his cheeks, which makes Panther lean back in to kiss him again. 

They both ended up in the back seat of Panthers Rover, entwined with each other, breathing in lungfuls, a smile on both of their lips. Bob leans to bury himself deeper into Panther's chest, feeling the warm skin beneath his fingertips. Panther hums, his arm pulling Bob closer. His other hand examines the small wing, it reflects the night's shine. 

“What now?” Panther sighs, pocketing the golden wings then turns to his boyfriend. Bob's brown eyes shine with the moonlight. 

“I don't know,” The brunette looks out of the car’s window. “Get assigned a squadron,” 

It would be the next step in their career. Panther has learned that Bob would be aiming to get into Top Gun, and he would be following Bob if he could, always one step behind him. 

Panther turns to face Bob, the aviator picking at his finger. He slowly entwines his fingers with Bob’s, making him glance up to meet Panther's eyes. The taller male softly smiles, moving a stray hair from Bob's eyes. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow,”

—

Two weeks after their Uranium mission, the crew has decided to hang out in the Hard Deck before some of them get shipped out into another deployment. Rooster was busy with Hangman, the two have been getting along ever since Hangman saved Rooster and Mav’s lives. They hung at one of the back tables of the Hard Deck, a bottle of beer in each other's hand. They’re standing awfully close, which makes Phoenix raise a brow.

“Let’s hope they don't break each other's heart again,” Bob snickers, picking at his cashews. 

“You don't want to take care of Roo?” 

“God no, you're lucky you weren't there for the first time,” Phoenix’s face scrunches in disgust, which makes Bob laugh. The WSO has been sticking with his pilot for most of their leisure time, mostly because he didn't know where else to go. Bob supposed he’ll follow where his next mission took him, or hope Cyclone is merciful and put him and Phoenix on the same crew. 

Coyote and Payback are playing pool, along with the others, sometimes cheering one of them on or laughing at a joke or quip the group would say. Maverick said he couldn't join the crew, something about spending his day with Iceman, which they all completely understood and cheered in their group chat. It's a particularly slow day for the Hard Deck, not a lot of patrons on this sunny Wednesday. Penny was conversing with another patron, and overall calming noon washing over Fightertown. 

The doors of Hard Deck chimes open. Bob and Phoenix are engrossed in their conversation, and despite standing on the other side of the bar, they did not recognize the customer that came in. A tall man on his peripherals is the only thing Bob notices before Phee makes him laugh and he’s back to ducking. 

“Hey there, I'm looking for a Bob Floyd?” 

The familiar voice almost gave Bob whiplash as he turned his head. And he thought he'd lost him…

“Panther?” 

The man in question walks past the bar and finds the familiar and comforting blue of Bob’s eyes. The pilot stands from his stool, taking shaky steps toward Panther. 

The last Bob ever heard of Panther was years ago, before his first deployment as they were assigned their own squadron. Bob was devastated that he wouldn't be getting the same squadron as Panther did, but with reassuring parting words, Panther promised the younger pilot that they’d meet again, one way or another. Since then, Bob has been moving from one deployment to another, meeting new people and squadrons, and experiencing different pain and happiness in his life. He got into the Top Gun program, and he met his current friends. He met Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy and the others, but despite it all he had hoped to somehow see Panther again. 

He never considered the man to find him.

“Hey,” Panther's smile is just as blinding as he remembers it. He gives Bob a once over, spotting the outfit Bob is wearing, before he chuckles. “Never changed, huh?”

Bob follows his laugh, finding the courage to reach out to hold Panther's wrist, which makes a steady blush rise to his cheeks. Panthers laugh stutters before he clears his throat and scratches at the back of his neck.

“And you never changed too,” Panther's eyes widen a bit, before he breaks into a smile, which makes Bob grin. He brings himself to stand closer to Panther, having to crane his neck to meet the man's eyes. 

“How did…” Bob's question falters, but luckily still understood Panther.

“I found you? Well, word travels fast when you are on the same mission as Captain Maverick,” Panther smirks. Bob laughs, realizing the recent fame the crew got ever since they spent their time with Mav. If you were taught by the legendary Maverick and were on a successful mission alongside him, the story definitely travels fast.

Though, Bob's brow furrows again. “But how did you know I was here?”

“I have my sources,” Panther shrugs, making Bob pat his arm. He's still supporting those muscles that made Bob’s head spin. Bob blinks, trying to hide away his blush by suddenly pulling Panther into a hug, which makes the man laugh and wrap his arms around the shorter pilot. Panther shakes from the laughter as he rests his chin on Bob's head. Bob melts at the sound of the familiar heartbeat, the warmth Panther exudes. 

The two move apart when they suddenly hear the sound of clapping, only to find Hangman walking towards them. “Is that the Panther I see?”

Bob tilts his head, before he feels himself being shifted to stand beside the taller man. “Hangman,” 

His jaw slackens. He has never seen Panther revert back to the stone-cold gaze he once wore back in basics, not even when Bob made a mistake that Panther rightfully got angry about. Yet, right now, he has that exact face while facing Hangman. 

“I never thought I’d see the day when you're back in Fightertown,”

“Never thought I'd see your douchey-ass here again,” Panther retorts. He stands much taller than Jake, though he still has his bite despite the height difference, seemingly unbothered. Jake leans over to look behind Panther's broad shoulders, finding a confused Bob. 

“You knew him?” Jake smirks.

“We were in basics together,” Bob nods, his hand slowly reaching for Panther's arm, patting it softly. “He’s my friend,” 

Panther takes a breath, before sighing and moving aside, turning towards Bob with a frown. “Sorry, my bad,”

“It’s alright, I'm fine, Panther,” Bob smiles, pushing stray strands behind Panther's ear affectionately. 

Unbeknownst to them, the rest of the crew, including Jake, is currently looking at the two with wide eyes and jaws on the floor. Bob wasn't particularly open to touch, in fact—The only people that ever hugged him were the selected few in the Dagger Squad. Phoenix was normally seen with him, and even then she kept her distance with the backseater. And to the extent of Hangman's knowledge, the Panther he knew back in his Fighter Squadron days was a reserved and quiet guy, mostly intimidating with his height and build, but usually kept it to himself.  To see the usually scary man being so touchy with a usually not touchy-feely guy is, to say the least, odd. 

The two spent the rest of the day catching up. Bob has learned that Panther took a different route than aiming for Top Gun, and instead got deployed at some places to teach classes, the main reason why he hasn't been able to visit Fightertown. He also learned the second that he got a whiff of information that a squadron, led by Maverick, has done a successful mission and is still in Miramar, Panther booked the first flight to San Diego. He wasn't expecting to find Bob, he was hoping. 

Panther ended up listening to everything his friend dumped on him. He knows Bob doesn't easily talk, only in short replies, so he’s happy to find him still so accepting to share his life with Panther. He learns about the Dagger Squad, how he's apparently close with Maverick now, and his experience throughout the death-defying mission. Panther, regardless of it all, was glad he had Bob in one piece instead of being invited to the aviator's honorable funeral. He’s proud to hear Bob making new friends, meeting new people, and is especially interested in meeting Phoenix. 

“Oh wait, let me use the toilet, be back in a bit,” Panther places his Whiskey down, patting Bob's back as he heads to the toilets.

Phoenix immediately corners her WSO, sliding up next to him. She stares him down, bewildering Bob. “Who’s that guy and what's his deal?” 

Bob takes a second to blink. “Im- Panthers my friend,”

“He seems more than a friend, Bob,” He knew he was safe with Phoenix. He knew he was safe with everyone, because they aren't like the old folks who glare at any two guys standing too close for comfort. Hell, they have Rooster and Hangman who are currently dancing around each other. But for Bob to tell Pheonix his ‘once boyfriend’ was a bit challenging for him. But he trusts her, and she worries for him. 

“He’s my… Old Boyfriend? We never broke up, but-”

“He left you?”

“No! Phee please,” Bob sighs, readjusting his glasses. “ We got different squadrons and went our separate ways, honestly, it's a miracle he ever found me,” 

The aviator looks down at his glass, the water reflecting his longing gaze. Bob smiles. “I never stopped loving him,” 

Phoenix leans back, away from her backseater. Her eyes find the deep pools of Bob’s blues, having known him well enough to see past his usual awkward demeanor. The pilot huffs, before she looks past Bob and then stands. “I’m sure he feels the same,” 

She passes Bob then, not before patting his shoulder, then walking away. Panther passes by the pilot, the shorter lady giving him a knowing look which makes Panther's brows crease, but he takes his seat again, already turning to face Bob. 

“That’s Phoenix?” 

“Heh, yeah,” Bob answers into his glass as he sips. Panthers swivel back around, finding Phoenix next to Hangman and an unknown man who supports a great porn stache. Panther manages a small smile, to which Phoenix responds with a nod. 

“I like her,” Bob laughs.

—

It was well over closing hour when Penny finally pushed the crew out of the Hard Deck door, saying something about reporting them to Maverick if she had to, which made all of the squad rush out and into San Diego’s cool evening. 

Some piled into Fitz’s car, Halo went with Phoenix on her bike, Hangman is already in Roosters Bronco, which left Bob alone with Panther. The two stay on the bar's porch, watching their friends stumble into their respectful vehicle. Bob spotted the guys fighting over who drives Fitz’s car even though the only sober one was Yale at that point, which made him laugh. Halo was already clinging to a sober Phoenix, clearly babbling about something. 

Throughout the night, Panther has gotten into conversations with the squad. Hangman even offered him a match at pool, which he demolished, leaving Jake to wallow his way to Rooster, so he learned the name of the pilot with the sick stache. Panther felt welcomed amongst them, their sense of family palpable. He finds himself smiling most of the time, which freaked Jake out. And it seems they're on a first-name basis now, which Bob greatly appreciates. 

They watch as their friends pull out of the parking lot, some blasting music, others oddly calm which bothered Bob. He hopes Rooster won't actually break Jake. 

After the dust has settled and their rear lights are far off into the distance, Bob releases a sigh, smiling to himself.

“So, Bob,” Panther turns to him, making Bob tilt his head to match. “I have my Range Rover,” 

“Still the same old?” 

“The one my aunt gifted me, yeah,” Panther laughs, which makes Bob grins. He suddenly grew quiet, looking down into Miramar’s sand instead of meeting Bob. The shorter man furrows his brow, something churns in his gut. Before Panther opens his mouth, Bob beats him to it.

“I don't-” Bob takes a breath. “...What are we?” 

At that, Panther smiles easily. He reaches for Bob's hand, holding them, drawing small circles on the back of the pilot's hands. “I’m your boyfriend, if you’ll take me,” 

Then he brings Bob’s chin close, pressing his lips against him, and it’s back to basics. Back to the old dorms where Bob felt a surge of euphoria. Where he could finally let his walls be undone by the man he trusted the most. He’s missed this. Missed the easy slide of their lips, the comforting scent of Panther, the way his hand slots between the man's broad chest, how Panther pulls him closer by his hips and suddenly he’s weightless. Bob smiles into their kiss, happy to finally regain his spot between Panther's arms. 

Requests are opened! Reminder to reblog!

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Dinner & Diatribes ||

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: jealous!Frank, semi public sex, derogatory names, pet names, fingering, unprotected sex. E.

A/n: inspired in part by Hozier's Dinner and Diatribes, that's the kind of love, I've been dreaming of 😈

You and Frank had been going through something of an 'involuntary dry spell' of late. He had been busy with Anvil business, spending so much of his time with Billy at work, and although it was to the ultimate benefit for both of you, you were still pissed off. In an effort to make it up to you Frank had taken you out for dinner somewhere fancier than usual.

"Good evening, I'm Aiden. Just making sure the meal is to your liking and you have everything you need?" The tall, dark-haired waiter appears at your side and your eyes take a long, slow trip to look up at him.

"Yes I am, thank you sooo much!" You reply animatedly. "The food is absolutely delicious, I just wish the company was as good! And this wine pairing? Such an exquisite palate you must have, Aiden."

Your server dips his head in acknowledgement and manages a small awkward laugh at Frank's expense until he practically flays him with his stare.

"Ahah… uhm, yes. Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying the meal, and if there's anything at all I can do for you please let me know." He replies nervously.

You smile at him with all your teeth. "Oh I certainly will, thank you so much, Aiden."

Frank sits back in his chair, you can feel his gaze following the admittedly handsome waiter as he attends to another table, then you feel it swing back resting heavily on you as you spear a piece of steak on your fork.

"'You flirting with him?"

Your head snaps up at Frank's interrogating tone. You're a little surprised at the tinge of jealousy that flavours it. What the hell, you think, might as well run with it.

"Didn't think you'd care. You've been grumpy and practically ignored me all evening anyway." You take a long gulp of your wine while still admiring the waiter's ass as he walks away to the kitchens. "Plus, he's pretty fit."

Frank scoffs, taking another bite of his filet mignon. "Yeah okay, I see how it is." he says once he's finished, staring you down with eyes that seem to be getting darker by the second. "You were just planning on being a brat tonight, huh?"

You roll your eyes at him.

He licks his lips.

There's a silence so tense you'd need a rocket launcher to blast through it all the way until you've both finished your main. You knew something was coming, that he wouldn't let something like that fly, and the suspense of waiting to find out what was killing you. Until finally he spoke.

"You need to powder your nose before we order dessert, sweets?"

"No, I-"

"Yeah I think you do." He interrupts, rising to his feet to pull out your chair for you. He leans in as you stand, your body moving on automatic. "Mens room, sweetheart." He growls, letting you get a head start before following along. He does a quick sweep satisfied no-one else is around before rounding the corner and down the long corridor to the men's.

You turn to face him to protest as he pushes open the door, but he spins you back around, his hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the last stall and slamming the door shut, locking it behind once you're both inside.

"You can bat those pretty eyelashes, flirt with whoever you want, baby girl, but don't you ever forget…" he leans in close, crowding you against the basin of the sink, growling into your ear making you shiver, "you are mine."

You go lax against him as he shoves his hand roughly down the front of your pants, biting back a moan as his fingers push between your already soaking wet folds.

He hums deep with satisfaction, looking at your reflection in the mirror. "Oh so you were waitin' for this, this is what you wanted, huh? Did Aiden get you all wet princess? Or was it me?"

His scruff feels rough, scraping against your cheek as he leans over your shoulder watching with amusement as you buck against his hand when he starts circling over your clit.

"Fuck! It's you Frank, it's always you baby…"

He slides hard up against your ass and there's no mistaking what you feel pressed against you.

"Frank… please, just.. take me home, you can do whatever you want to me there!" You hear yourself whine but he only lets out a dark chuckle.

"Nah nah. You act like an impatient little slut, you're gonna get treated like one. Thought you'd learned that by now."

You whimper as he slowly drags his finger in and out of your pussy. "Please! We can go back to the truck even– I'll be good, Frankie I'll be so good-"

"S'too late for that sweetheart. I'm gonna give you all the goddamn attention you want right here and now since I've clearly been neglecting you."

The clink of his belt being undone makes your legs almost give out. He opens and yanks your pants down further, your thighs trapped together in them as he widens his stance and takes himself in hand. You gasp feeling the blunt head of his cock probing at your slick entrance.

You're so glad of his hand clamping over your mouth as you couldn't trust yourself to hold in the needy, desperate sound you make as he pushes his way inside.

"Fuck, yeah fuck that's right… that what you need sweets? This what you want? Mm, goddamn you're tight-"

You grip onto the sink for dear life, white knuckled as Frank plows into you at a punishing pace. You know he wants to finish before anyone else walks into that restroom.

"You thinkin' about that fucking guy now, baby?" He grunts.

"N–uh!" Is all you can manage to get out, but what you really want to tell him is no Frankie it's only you, always you, always you…

He yanks your head back and you're actually thankful as he meets your mouth in a bruising kiss, thrusting even deeper inside, muffling your cries of pleasure from the ears of other restaurant patrons.

One of his big paws slips up under your shirt roughly groping at your bouncing tits as he keeps on pounding you hard. God, the hot huffs of his breath on your skin, his strangled groans as your pussy squeezes around his cock as he fucks you in such a public place, you can't take much more, and neither it seems can he. He hisses out a quiet fuck as you reach behind, clawing your hand on his pert ass, and then he's back growling low and commanding in your ear and you know you have no choice but to obey.

"This is what's gonna happen- you're gonna come for me and only me. You're gonna fucking come for me now darlin', and I'm gonna fill up that sweet pussy of yours. Then you're gonna walk on back to that table and order some fuckin' ice-cream like nothin' happened. Ain't that right?"

He rubs and flicks your clit mercilessly, thrusts growing ever more frenzied and sloppy as you nod and mewl at him pathetically. Yes Frank fill me up fill me up I wanna feel you dripping out of me all night please please I'm gonna come for you please I'm yours I'm yours!

You didn't even realise you'd poured all your desperation out loud until Frank's teeth are nipping at your neck as the too-loud sound of skin slapping on skin echoes around the plush room. "That's right, you're fuckin' mine! Fucking. MINE."

You unravel spectacularly. Your orgasm hits as soon as his does, biting down on the hand that reaches around to cover your mouth, the other gripping your hip as he jolts hard burying his cock so deep you swear you're going to feel it for weeks.

"Fuck baby, fuck-fuck-FUCK!" Frank's feral possessive grunt as he keeps on fucking you has your knees quaking and your eyes rolling back in your skull. He doesn't stop until he's hissing with oversensitivity, his spend already starting to slide down the inside of your shaking thighs as he eventually, and maybe somewhat reluctantly, pulls out.

You can barely stand but he holds you and helps you pull your ruined pants back up. You lean against the door panting in a daze as he grabs some tissue and cleans off his dick.

"Frank…" you breathe out. You catch yourself in the mirror, there's no way you look anything other than utterly fucked. He just clears his throat, tucks himself away, washes his hands and straightens his shirt and fixes his hair. He looks you up and down, smirking as he unlocks the door.

"When you come back to the table try not to look like you've just been fucked in the toilet stall of an expensive restaurant, hm?"

You just stare.

He goes to leave but then pauses. "You want ice-cream, baby?" He asks.

Your mouth gapes open as you try to get yourself together enough to respond.

"...yeah?"

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Helloo, do you have open asks? If so, I would like to ask about hiccup and the "acts of service" w Reader(fem).

If you want it can be a continuation of "sorry, but I think I lost your plot ", but otherwise no problem!

I hope you have a good day <3

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 6

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,911

You find yourself running chores for the Haddocks more often than not. You’re not sure whether this fact irritates or pleases you. At least you’re getting paid (not really).

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, love language, acts of service, part 1

<Previous - Next>

You shifted your arm, pulling the package you carried closer to yourself as you clambered up the steps to the top loft. 

You peered over the edge as you pulled yourself up, revealing Hiccup at his desk in the corner, scratching away at a piece of parchment with a newly burnt stick of charcoal. Toothless wasn’t anywhere to be seen, not at the moment. He was probably off hanging with the other dragons while Hiccup did something non-dragon intensive and, therefore, probably Fury-boring.

“Hi,” You started.

“Uh-huh,” Hiccup grunted, after a long moment.

It seemed more of an automatic moment at first, so you weren’t sure he noticed you at first, too absorbed into what he was doing, though at the sound of your footsteps it seemed he did make a minor effort to cover the corner of the paper closest to you with his elbow.

You furrowed your brow as he mumbled something grumpy and noncommittal about his Dad and coming back later.

“Hiccup.” You tried again.

He looked up this time, blinking slowly and shifting his arms as if he was about to stretch, before going rigid.

“I heard about your trip to Outcast Island-?” You tried, for the third time, now that you had his attention.

“Oh, hey, hi-!” Hiccup shoved a few papers off his desk, kicking them underneath the table, you tilted your head to the side though you did your best not to look too closely, in case the papers were of a more private nature, “Don’t look at that -I mean, it was nothing big, but-yeah. It was crazy. Did- ah-”

“-And so did everyone else. Mrs.Ingerman put together a care package.” You offered it up to him, ignoring his quiet, confused, mouthed ‘Mrs,’ “So, uh… Delivery!”

“-Hey!” Hiccup said, hiding a strained smile behind a tall pile of pipes and other miscellaneous scraps. The area under his eyes was dark and pronounced and his hair was frayed in some portions. 

It was dark, your vision washed over by a thin, navy film since the sun had set just a few hours prior. You had only the heated light of the forge to bring you light and the few lit torches lining Berk’s path to guide you there.

You wondered if you caught Hiccup at the wrong time. You feared the bond you formed scurrying around Dagur had faded, and Hiccup was back to being a little weird again. It brought you a little bit of sadness, but maybe it was for the best. It would be bad to keep meddling in the affairs of plot. 

At least you hadn’t surprised him this time, which was minorly pleasing. You tended to do that a lot for some reason, despite not being particularly quiet or sneaky in any way.

“This is for you,” You placed the bow of stew you had balanced in one hand and the plate carrying a heavy leg of meat in the other on one of the nearby workbenches, cautiously and nervously pushing aside a few nails and ends with the uneven edge of the plate. 

“Do you need any help?” You asked, already walking towards him, arms partially extended to help him bear the load.

Hiccup had been spending a lot of time in the Forge recently, meaning he’d probably been skipping out on meals. You did it a lot too, but you knew the toll it took. And there were only two meals a day here. It was a very rare but precious day when you were able to scrounge up a lunch for yourself.

 If his father hadn’t done it, the Chief would request you to bring down a meal for Hiccup from the Great Hall. It was one of the many tasks you were given that didn’t pay, but you found you didn’t mind. At least in this instance. 

It was the Chief, after all. And maybe you felt a little bad for Hiccup.

“Help?” Hiccup asked, wobbling shakily on his peg and foot. You were sure in a moment you’d be the same. While being on Berk helped some, you were afraid that you were unable to shake off your modern scrawny demeanor.

As you brought some of his load into your arms, counting a healthy, large roll of leather, a sack of needles and pins and twine and a thick group of thin, metal rods, You decided to stay. 

You marched through the underbrush, pushing aside low-hanging branches and long, scratchy bush fronds, nearly cursing when your sleeve caught and one of your hastily done stitches were pulled. 

You weren’t particularly great with a needle, especially the ones they had here, made of bone and a bit thicker than the ones you were used to back home. 

You were wearing your shirt from the day you arrived on the island, which was admittedly much thinner and a whole lot less sturdy than any of your clothes from here.

You wondered what it was like back home, if anyone was still looking for you. In a sort of unsure and roundabout way, you sort of hoped they were.

Anyhow, your best needlework was done the night before last, in an effort to help Hiccup out with one of his newer contraptions, some add-on or other to Toothless’ flying gear. 

You’d spent that night trying to follow his instructions to the best of your abilities, kneeled on the floor beside him, but your work was still a measure more fragile than the quick and industrial tacking Hiccup was well-practiced in. 

To your benefit, though, you were tracing out and stitching carefully measured pieces by candlelight. It was difficult to do in the dark, and you did your best to compensate by being overly cautious, though that also might have been a sort of burden.

Today, you had your first break in a long while. You got everything done in the morning and so for once, there were no chores for you to chase after or any deliveries to make. It was a little bit less awesome without a working internet connection, but it was what it was.

The last time you’d seen Hiccup, he looked so drowsy and frayed, you couldn’t help but to be reminded of one of those large posters of Albert Einstein you remembered from way back in one of your old middle school classes, with some crummy science encouragement joke pasted to the bottom in Comic Sans.

He’d spent a lot of late nights at the forge recently. 

You also hadn’t seen for a while. Not since yesterday. No one else had, people were starting to talk about it, it was beginning to get late. You figured you might as well just give it a look around, though you also very much wanted to take a nice, long nap.

So here you were, marching around deep in the woods as the sun began to set, washing the world over in yellows and orange hues.

You yawned, feet crunching against dry leaves until you broke out into a clearing, which was a minor relief. You took the time to stretch and sigh before looking around.

It was a small clearing full of uneven lush grasses, one half sort of upturned and shaded, the other half occupied by a small lump in a green tunic, and a larger, darker black-navy one just behind the treeline with many different fins for different parts of his body.

Hiccup said it was to see if he could add to or maximize Toothless’ speed, or something. You thought that maybe he was just trying to look cooler or something, though by the end of it, you were sure that Toothless looked a lot more like a sailboat.

“Hiccup…?” You mumbled, tiptoeing quietly towards the green lump, mindful not to make much noise though you approached with the full intent to prod him awake.

His tunic wasn’t quite saturated or dark enough to blend him in with the grasses.

You touched his arm lightly with your hand form where he lay on his side, before pausing. He had been very tired recently. It would probably be wrong of you to prod him awake and make him hobble all the way back to the village.

“Rise and shine,” You mumbled, still patting on his arm. You stopped mid pat at one point, instead choosing to poke him with your finger. 

Hiccup just sighed tiredly in his sleep, rolling over further into the grass. You were certain he wouldn’t be waking up soon. You weren’t even sure when the last he slept was, so he could very well be out until the next time the sun set.

You dropped your hands to your side as he drooled uncomfortably face-down into the dirt.

You blinked through drowsy eyes yourself, wondering if you might be able to wake him up for long enough to get a blanket underneath.

You hoped Hiccup would still be there by the time you got back. You hadn’t really stopped to tell anyone about him, though you weren’t in much of a rush. Maybe it was a consequence of your own fatigue, clouding your own line of vision. You hoped they weren’t too worried.

You stumbled in the complete darkness over sticks and rocks, shuffled back with the armful of blankets in your arms.

Living in the stables afforded you some privacy but also meant that your things got dirty quicker. Which meant you had to clean them a lot. And sometimes you didn’t. But you had very  recently so these should have been fine, all the pisces taken straight from your own bed. 

Admittedly you had a few more than what was standard, though you quite needed them for the extra cushioning and to compensate for the fact that you weren’t as accustomed to the cold climate, especially at night. It was rough out here. They were hard to come by though given you didn’t have much and blankets were much harder to make than in the future.

It wasn’t that bad today so you assumed you’d be fine without for the time being.

After a very long walk with many almost-trips, you broke back into the empty clearing. It was a bit hard to tell through all the bedding, but it was, disappointingly, empty. 

You sighed painfully, resisting the urge to rub tired eyes. You wished you had taken a nap or something earlier, barely able to keep yourself up. You weren’t sure you could make the walk back at this point, honestly, even though that was the plan. 

What you should have been planning, though, was how you were going to be able to get your blankets back after the fact. 

Well, you still had your bedding.

You dropped it with a noise between a whine and a groan and sort of wormed your way into the pile, kicking out what you could and smoothing what you needed to so that you felt and had to deal with as little wrinkles as possible.

You let your eyes fall shut for the most of it, too tired to pull them apart, heavy and sticky with sleep. You only vaguely regretted that you were too tired to look up at the stars, as you had for many nights now through a hole in the roof of the stables just above your bed when the skies were clear.

You exhaled, letting the relieving embrace of sleep envelope you.

[nine-blessed-hero]

Talis and the Illicit Mage

(or) Article 3 - Apprentices are Forbidden from Exiting University Grounds after Dark

Universe: TESIV: Oblivion CW: None Words: 355 Context: Written for the TES Summer Fest prompt: Forbidden Tagging: @tes-summer-fest, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary

The bell chimed, letting in a gust of frigid air as the door opened. The day's light had disappeared over an hour ago, leaden clouds smothering even Masser's luminousness, leaving the guttering tallow to shed smokey orange flickering through the bakery, masking its usual pleasant, bready scent. Through the distorted glass of the display cabinet, where Talis knelt stocking up the freshly baked goods, he saw a tall figure in a long outfit enter the shop, blue and greens melding together. "Good afternoon, Magister," Rindir said. "What can I get for you?" The figure cleared their throat, then spoke in an overly plummy accent "Good afternoon. I was wondering if you had any Croline au Pomme." "Certainly–" "I'm afraid the lady won't be having anything," Talis said, shooting upright, "because the lady shouldn't be here."

His tray of pastries abandoned, Talis marched around the counter, catching the dunmer magister by her wrist and dragging her towards the back stairs. "Ow! Talis, that hurts…" Talis let go and looked into the cobalt face of the other mer, her normally puckish expression drooping into a moue. "What are you doing here, Sal?" he asked. "You're breaking so many rules! You know First Years aren't allowed out of the University grounds after dark, nor are they allowed into the City without an escort of a Third Year or higher–" "Memememurr," Salora wittered petulantly. "So I snuck out. Stop worrying so much, Tal. I can sneak back in. Tacher showed me this trick with paint-brushes���" "That is not the point!" Talis threw his hands up. "Mama wrote me. She told me what the disciplinary board said. You're supposed to be being a model student not… sneaking out just because you aren't getting your sweet fix. We have to get you back in, right now, before anyone notices you're gone." Salora fluttered her eyelashes. "Can't I have just one apple Croline? Please?" Talis gave a grumpy growl. "Fine. One." Salora's face lit up, only to fall again when Talis said, "I'll bring it over tomorrow with the Uni's usual order." "Boo, you're no fun." "Pull your hood up, we're leaving."

[mk-writes-stuff]

OC Interaction Tag

Rules: describe an OC, then describe how they would interact with the previous people’s OCs

Thanks @somethingclevermahogony , @illarian-rambling, and @willtheweaver for the tags! I’m going to pick one OC for all three of these, and I know I usually go with Seven Stations characters but I’m going to spice things up a bit and pull out one of my favourite Pirates’ Roost characters who I think I’ve spoken about exactly once :). Putting this under a cut because it got very long.

C’s OC: Penetinos is a Korithian Sage and a former priest of the goddess Fokisa. He is afflicted by a neurological disease, the exact nature of which is not entirely known to the people of the Green Sea. Penetinos's sickness and his sagecraft have caused him to age prematurely. His back is bent, his once light brown hair is now grey and silver. In his youth, Penetinos was noted for his handsome and youthful appearance, tall and thin. Now unfortunately, though he is just under 60, it would be quite easy to mistake him for a man in his eighties. He is a reasonably powerful sage, though he has been limited by his sickness and age. In his youth he could summon bolts of lightning, clouds of fire, even fly for very short periods of time. Now, he can do little more than summoning small lights or move small objects.

His attitude can be best described as professorial, stern at times, quiet, though ultimately kind. Penetinos is a gentle person, averse to violence, and easily enthused when it comes to learning new things. From a very young age, Penetinos was tutored in the language and scripts of three languages, those being Korithian, Kishic, and Apunic and in matters of literature and the natural sciences.

He has come to accept his mortality, and will readily discuss the subject of death with just about anyone, though he isn't necessarily happy about it.

Katie’s OC: Sepo Kaiacynthus is an aroace siren man in his late twenties/early thirties with a tall stature, gaunt face, dark eyes, and long hair he usually keeps braided. He is mute and has been ever since the Silver Sovereign, divine empress of the sirens, cut out his tongue as punishment for murdering her daughter, which he did by way of setting the royal palace on fire as retribution for his brother's unjust execution. Occasionally, he walks with a cane due to dizziness from a lingering brain injury he gets at the end of the first book. He is a remarkably cunning, paranoid man, with a brutally pragmatic streak. He also tends to be very grumpy, though he does have good manners and a sense of propriety instilled from being raised in a temple. He enjoys complaining about every little thing, though he'll deny it if you ask. He tends to get very worked up over issues, which, combined with his hair-trigger temper, can result in some stunning acts of violence. This violence is never directed at his friends though. Sepo loves just as deeply as he hates, and if someone manages to worm their way into his heart, he'll protect them to his last breath. Other than that, as a siren, he has Opinions on music, and also enjoys learning about surface magic too. His own vocal magic was rendered unusable when his tongue was cut out, and his relationship with the god that grants that magic is also quite touchy. He's not a big fan of religion in general.

Will’s OC: Cya is a child prodigy. Hers is a family of swans that have dedicated themselves to the arts. Having chosen to focus on dance and music, she quickly rose to become a master performer. Those who first meet Cya will say that she has a haughty and self-assured attitude that borders on arrogance. In reality, it is all just an act, as she suffers from anxiety and imposter syndrome. The pressure to uphold the family legacy and meet everyone’s expectations is immense, and she does her best to hide her insecurities. Suffice to say, this has not proven successful, and with no one to confide in, she can fall into days long states of depression.

My OC: Julian is a human doctor who is about 35 at the start of the story (Pirates’ Roost spans about 20 years, so they’re in their 50s by the end of it). They are tall but slender, with short, dark hair, brown skin, and vivid blue eyes. They are of mixed Sun Empire and Brazen Coalition (pirate) heritage, something the pirates don’t care about and the Sun Empire is infuriated by. Julian is a very calm, placid individual - the one time anyone on the ship they work on heard them raise their voice was a monumental occasion - but they have a will of steel. Julian doesn’t refrain from shouting or being nasty because they don’t feel upset, they do it because they can dress you down within an inch of your life without ever having to snap. They have no tolerance for disrespect and hold the people around them, especially those they work with, to a high standard of professionalism, despite being a pirate, and will not hesitate to explain in no uncertain terms that someone’s actions are unacceptable if they feel they, someone they care about, or the medical tradition they hold in high esteem are being disrespected. They are highly particular about the practice of medicine, and will take issue with anyone trying to do things that offend their medical code. They also pick up a pet dinosaur later in the story.

How Julian and Penetinos would interact: I feel like these two would get along quite well. They’re both quiet, professional people and I think they’d both be eager to share their knowledge and expertise with one another. Julian is very respectful of their elders (their mother drilled that one into them from a young age) and I feel like Penetinos would appreciate that. Julian would likely be a bit jealous of his magic - their inability to do healing magic (or, really, any magic at all) is an insecurity of theirs - but I think they would like him enough and he would be kind enough about it that it wouldn’t become an issue.

How Julian and Sepo would interact: I think these two would grate on each other really fast. Julian would find Sepo’s temper and snarky tendencies to be frustrating, and when they finally got tired of it and gave him a talking-to on how he speaks to them, I don’t think it would go over well. If Sepo got physical about it, Julian would be screwed - they keep a knife on them for self-defense, but they’re not a fighter. I feel like Sepo, for his part, would also find Julian’s calm reaction to everything extremely annoying and would get upset that nothing seems to bother them (things do bother them, they’re just usually pretty good at going “okay now’s not the time to panic” and addressing it later). It would honestly probably be for the best if the two of them just stayed far apart, although Julian would probably draw them together at least a few times inquiring about Sepo’s health (which would also probably not go over too well).

How Julian and Cya would interact: Well, the bird thing would take a bit for them to get over, but I think they’d adapt. I think they’d clash at first since Julian tends to not get along well with arrogant people, and getting talked down to by a bird would not make them happy. I feel like if they gave her a dressing-down, the pressure would cause some of her insecurities to tear up and then Julian would have a lot more patience with her. I think they’d actually be able to help her with some of her stresses, and the two of them would be able to get along.

Thank you all for tagging me! I’d love to hear your thoughts on these interactions :)

@kaylinalexanderbooks @elsie-writes @modernwritercraft want to play?

[supercalifragipopculturevomit]

15 Questions for 15 or maybe 5 or 6 Friends Tagged by @hiddenxplaces-blog

Are you named after anyone? Accidentally. Apparently, my mom picked my first name and my aunt suggested the second. They didn’t realize the combination only sounded right to their ears because it’s what the neighbors also named their baby.

When was the last time you cried? It can’t be late last year, but that’s the last time I remember having a good, ugly cry. This was while watching Past Lives for the second time.

Do you have kids? Does my dog count? He’s my pandemic baby.

What sports do you play/have you played? None. I did participate in competitive Scrabble once.

Do you use sarcasm? Do I breathe?

What’s the first thing you notice about people? How they carry themselves or what they’re wearing (because I love fashion).

What’s your eye color? Dark brown.

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings in scary movies.

Any talents? A handful of art-related things (e.g. photography, styling, DIY, decorating); reading people; and being a chameleon in social situations.

Where were you born? A country with 7000+ islands.

What are your hobbies? Watching films and TV shows, GIF-making, curating lists, exploring local coffee shops, thrift shopping, organizing, and traveling.

Do you have any pets? A grumpy dog and a clingy stray cat.

How tall are you? If I lived in the Shire, I’d be an unusually tall Hobbit—the one they would call to get things on high shelves.

Favorite subject in school? English.

Dream job? I’m a photographer already but the niche Greg Williams carved out for himself looks particularly fun.

Would be fun to see your answers @jomarch-wannabe, @leatherandsoil, @decemberafternoon, @deepdwellingsteamboat, and @thorne-kreizler—but no pressure, only if you want to or have the time.

[cinnamongorll]

a fragile line - chapter 32

read on ao3! (146k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Series tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Warnings: animal death

Word count: 3.6k

Chapter 32:

Two weeks later

Joel's POV:

“Get your gun out,” Joel commanded, pausing his own movements to watch as Juliet’s hand reached into the pocket of the jacket he had given her. 

That jacket had been with him since before Boston, before he had even met her, and now it hung from Juliet’s shoulders, marking her, in a way, as his.

Those months in Jackson, after he’d pushed her away in the cruellest way possible, Joel watched as Juliet formed a life for herself just as she had all those years ago in the QZ. He would watch her leave for patrol with aching terror weighing him down, and he would see her walk past his house with Ethan as that dark jealousy almost ate him alive. And when Joel came to his senses, and his world was drenched in thick regret, there was one thing that let him hold out hope that he could be forgiven, that there might still be a chance for them: When Juliet left for patrol with Matt, or ate in the dining hall with Ethan, or laughed with Tommy, she was always wearing his jacket. 

That mark of his depraved possession was still on her and Joel knew that deep down their connection remained. 

“I’ll do the talking,” Juliet announced as she tightened her hold on the horse and adjusted her gun in her other hand. 

She looked ready for battle. Her hair tied back in a ponytail and her face wiped clean of any fear. 

Joel still thought this whole trip was the most idiodic thing he’d ever agreed to. But to Juliet, it really was a battle. She was fighting for the truth about who she was, and what was done to her. She didn’t want revenge, Joel had already sorted that for her. Juliet just wanted to find a way to move on, and Joel would fight to give it to her. 

They stood in the field between the edge of the forest they had just travelled through and the fence surrounding Elijah’s community, or that’s what it had once been. Joel feared where the leadership landed following his death. 

Joel released a heavy sigh and focused his gaze on the tall fence in the distance. He didn’t see any movement but that meant nothing. The greatest threats were usually difficult to spot. 

He turned to Juliet behind him, allowing his eyes to sweep down her body. It was a nervous habit, Joel was always searching her body for any signs of hurt. 

When he closed his eyes he still pictured her lifeless body in that metal chair. 

His fists closed around his shotgun, tightening until his knuckles were a stark white. 

“Any sign of trouble, we get the hell outta there. You hear me?” he warned Juliet, already contemplating changing his mind and taking them back to Jackson before they even reached the fence. 

Juliet would find a way to get here on her own, Joel knew she would. That’s why he agreed to this fucked up plan in the first place. 

That crease between her eyebrows formed as she looked at him, then she nodded slowly. Joel allowed himself to take another breath, then another, as he turned back towards the fence. 

“Right, let’s get you some answers.” 

………………

They approached the fence cautiously. Joel walked in front with his gun ready and Juliet was only a few steps behind, holding the reins of his horse who walked beside them. 

The last time they’d been here, Elijah’s men had circled them immediately, having spotted them in the watchtower a mile off. 

Now, there was nothing. No security, no sound. But that’s not what made Joel pause. As they drew closer, he noticed that the towering wooden gate… was open. Almost as though they were waiting for someone to stumble in.

Joel turned back to Juliet, catching her wide eyes with his own. He shook his head quickly before turning back to the fence. He wanted her to stay where she was. Joel was going first.

That voice in his head was screaming at him to turn back. But maybe the town was just abandoned and, if Juliet could see that, they could head home, back to Jackson. Maybe Juliet would learn to live without closure. 

Joel’s already tight jaw tensed even further, his teeth grinding together as he walked quietly to the open gap in the fence and stepped inside. 

With his shotgun raised, Joel sweeped his eyes across the field in front of him and narrowed his gaze towards the buildings in the distance. 

It was empty. 

He stood for another minute, barely breathing as he listened. Still, he could hear no voices and he couldn’t track any movement on the mainstreet. 

Joel had been doing this for long enough to know that this initial observation meant fuck all if there were people hiding out in the houses, or waiting eagerly for him to draw closer before they decided to strike.

Something about this was different, though. He knew the history here. Their leader died a few months ago, and the townspeople seemed useless. Maybe the entire community just fell apart.

But why would they leave? 

“Joel,” a sharp whisper beckoned him to turn around. 

The decision lay heavy on Joel’s chest. They could turn around now, leave this place behind forever, and just put this whole quest behind them. 

Meeting Juliet’s eyes, and seeing the glimmer of sacred hope forged in them, made Joel decide otherwise. 

Slowly, he nodded, and let his shotgun swing from his shoulder as he wedged the fence open wider to allow Juliet and his horse to come through. 

Instantly, Juliet stiffened. She looked as though the weight of her memories were consuming her from the inside. Joel itched to sooth the crease in her forehead and erase every dark thought, but his hands were too rough and he could never find the words. 

“Don’t wanna be in the open too long,” Joel said, squinting in the winter sun, “if Danny is here, we better try and find him.”

Juliet nodded but said nothing, just tightened her grip on the horse and started heading towards the mainstreet. It was like she’d never left this place, the way her shoulders instantly dropped as she walked through the fence. 

Joel ground his jaw and prayed to whatever god still looked down on this wasteland that Danny was still alive and was able to ease the horror that lived in her head. 

…………………….

It was worse than he’d imagined.

Every house was ransacked. Doors were broken down, windows had been smashed in. The glass littered the rickety wooden porches. 

The people here hadn’t left willingly, if they had left at all. 

There were dark patches on the concrete pavement, trailing a map of spilled blood down the street. The stains were black, indicating that this had happened a while ago.

“Raiders,” Juliet whispered as her eyes flashed to him. 

It wasn’t a question but Joel still nodded slowly in silent agreement. They had both lived that life and knew exactly what mark it left behind.

Joel wondered how long the community had held out after Elijah had died.

Juliet let go of the horse’s reins to wipe a hand over her forehead, then she turned to Joel.

“Maybe Danny’s still here… he’s resourceful, he could have survived this,” Juliet said quickly, then paused, biting her lip as the reality of the situation seemed to hit her.

Joel gave her time, his eyes stayed locked on her face as she puzzled over their situation. 

Finally, Juliet inhaled a deep breath. “We came all the way here, we have to try,” she decided, reaching to grip the reins again. 

“Okay,” he ground out through his gritted teeth. 

If he had the guts, he’d throw her over his shoulder, get them both on the horse, and get the fuck out of here. But, in doing so, he’d be sacrificing whatever affection Juliet still had for him and he couldn’t let that go. 

Instead, he stepped in front of her, raised his gun higher and led the way down the street to where he remembered Danny’s “bar” being. If they were doing this, he wasn’t letting a fucking thing happen to her. 

………………..

“Shit,” Joel murmured under his breath as they approached the building. 

Panels of wood had been nailed across the door, blocking all sign of entry, or keeping something out…

“Take the horse,” Juliet said from behind him in a detached voice, as she dropped the reins and began to jog around the side of the building. 

“Juliet,” Joel scolded as he grabbed the reins and followed her. Joel’s heartbeat had begun to roar in his ears, echoing the desperate fear that consumed him when Juliet was out of his sight. 

He watched from behind as Juliet reached the gate around the back of the building and walked inside, with a carelessness that made Joel’s heart wrench. 

Every inch of the town was thick with an almost impossible silence and Joel cringed with every brush of their feet on the concrete. 

When Joel reached her, Juliet was standing at the back door to Danny’s building. Joel dropped the horse’s reins, stalked over to her, and gripped her arm, pulling her in a hard tug towards his body. Once she was plastered to his side, Joel dropped his mouth to her ear.

“What’re you playin’ at?” he demanded, breathless. 

Juliet’s breathing was quick and wild as she turned her head to blink up at him. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Juliet looked dazed, as though she hadn’t realised what she had done. From the looks of it, her mind was back in that basement with Elijah. 

Joel eased his grip on her. 

“You move when I move, that’s it,” he said in a cold voice, his heart still pounding. 

Quickly, Juliet nodded back. 

Joel turned to look behind him, his horse stood patiently inside the fencing that surrounded them. There was still no sign of people, so Joel decided it was safe to leave him out here while they searched the building. 

With his hand still circling Juliet’s arm, Joel swung her around until she was at his back, ignoring the sharp gasp she let out.  

The quiet that surrounded them seemed to scream in his ears like those old white noise machines people used to have. His thoughts condensed into one mantra: get in, get out, keep Juliet safe. 

The handle turned easily and Joel’s eyebrows furrowed. 

He pushed and held his breath as the darkness inside the building beckoned them in. 

It was in this bar that he had met Ethan, who confirmed the worst assumptions Joel had made about Juliet’s father. The memory was like a bitter taste in his mouth, reminding him of his own stupidity. 

He was always too fucking slow. 

Joel took a step inside, then another, and heard Juliet do the same behind him, mimicking his movements in the way only she knew how to do. 

The darkness was fierce as the boarded up doors and windows blocked any light from entering. Joel inhaled a breath and regretted it almost immediately. The air was thick and unusually humid like the bar hadn’t realised outside had turned to winter. 

Once they were in the centre of the room, Joel stopped, reaching a hand behind him until it hovered over Juliet’s waist. Then, he squinted his eyes and attempted to the best of his ability to search every corner of the room, searching for godknows what - 

“Who’s there?” a startled voice rang out in the empty room. 

Joel gripped Juliet’s waist tighter, pressing her to his back, shielding her with his body. He couldn’t see a damn thing, didn’t even know what direction the voice came from. 

Suddenly, he was blinking as an oil lamp was turned on, bathing the room in a soft, warm light.

Juliet stepped around Joel’s body. “Danny?” 

“Juliet?”

Joel stiffened as he took in the man before them. This was not the bartender he remembered. This man’s face was unshaven and his body looked as though he hadn’t eaten a thing in several weeks. His eyes were the worst. They had that starved look about them, the look that usually meant that he’d forgotten what it meant to want anything other than a meal. 

“Jesus,” he coughed out, stumbling closer as he walked around tables and chairs with a stiff, painful looking gait. “The last time I saw you, you were bleeding out on a table.”

Juliet’s entire body recoiled and Joel flexed his hand around the trigger of his gun. 

“What are you doing back here?” Danny asked cautiously, scratching his head. 

Joel looked down at Juliet, but she was just staring ahead at the man, looking as though she’d seen a ghost. And maybe she had; it didn’t look like there was much life clinging to the man. 

“What happened here? Where is everyone?” she asked quietly, in a voice barely above a whisper. 

Danny’s lips spread into a thin line as he slumped into one of the chairs, having grown breathless from his short walk across the room. With a trembling hand, he reached out in front of him, gesturing at the other chairs. “Take a seat,” he grunted. 

The man couldn’t have been older than his mid-forties, but he had aged rapidly in the last few months. It was hard to imagine this being the same man who helped him restrain Ethan in the back room. 

Juliet carefully lowered her gun and stepped forward towards Danny. Joel did the same, but his gun didn’t drop an inch. Once they were both seated, the weight of Juliet’s unanswered questions hung between them, unable to be ignored. 

Danny sighed and shot a look behind him before he leaned forward until his sharp elbows rested on the table. Joel shifted in his seat, positioning his gun under the table to face towards its potential target, should he need it. 

“Please,” Juliet breathed in a voice far gentler than he expected, “what happened?” 

Joel looked at Danny and watched as his eyes softened at the sight of Juliet’s pleading. The sight made him wonder what kind of friendship they had before she left town. Joel remembered the horror on his face when he saw Juliet on that metal table, with the evidence of her father’s hate etched on her body. The healed scars on Juliet’s body told him that her spilled blood was not an unusual sight in this town. How could a man stomach to watch a young girl go through that and still stand by the man who made her bleed? 

Joel’s finger hovered over the trigger.

Finally, Danny ran his hand through the greasy strands on his balding head and met Juliet’s eyes. 

“Things fell apart pretty quick after Elijah died,” he began. Joel didn’t miss the way his glassy gaze flickered to him. 

“Your father liked his secrets,” Danny said with a strange smile as he clasped his hands in front of him. “It was the mark of a great leader, I’d always thought. He made sure we didn’t know everything, to keep us from carrying the burden of the town.”

Joel’s eyes hit the ceiling as he puffed out a breath. 

Danny ignored his reaction and continued. “He told the town that they were the only survivors. It was a lie, of course, but a necessary one. It kept people from wanting beyond their means -”

“And it kept people dependent on him,” Juliet cut him off sharply, shifting in her chair to cross her arms over her chest. 

Danny laughed, and Joel was struck by an intense urge to squeeze a little tighter on the trigger. 

“Well, yes. I suppose it did. What I was trying to say was… your father held those secrets a little too close to his chest. Meant that when he died, we had no access to his suppliers anymore,” Danny grew quieter, his eyes locked on his hands. 

“Your father was a God to these people,” Danny paused, shaking his head, “when they found out he died….” 

He scratched his neck, turning to look back over his shoulder. 

Joel’s eyebrows lifted. 

“So where is everyone?” he demanded. 

Danny’s eyes thinned. “Did you not see the streets? They’re all dead,” he swallowed and dropped his hands back onto the table, “raiders got to us, we had no defences left. I’m the only one left.” 

Ain’t that convenient.

“What are you doing here, Juliet?” Danny asked, pointedly avoiding Joel’s stare.

She shifted in her seat. 

“That night, when I came back… my father told me something before he died. I have to know if it’s true,” Juliet answered as she straightened her spine. 

Danny’s eyebrows furrowed. “What did he say?” 

Juliet swallowed and Joel ached to touch her, but he was too tense. Being gentle wasn’t an option for him. 

“He told me that I wasn’t really his daughter, said that he killed my real parents,” Juliet revealed in an almost robotic voice, distancing herself from her emotions. 

Joel kept watch of Danny’s face, tracking his reaction like a hunter. 

It looked like he was doing a damn good job of not reacting at all, apart from the slight quiver of his lip as she continued to stare at Juliet. 

“Your father told you that?” he asked quietly. 

Juliet nodded. “Was he telling the truth?” 

Danny dropped eye contact with Juliet, leaned back in his chair, and for the third time since they had sat down, he looked over his shoulder towards the back door. 

That instinct that had guided Joel for the past twenty years, the instinct he should have listened to all those months ago when they first walked through this town, was roaring at him to bolt. Something wasn’t right here. 

Joel stood, bringing his shotgun with him. “Who else is in this town?” he demanded, flicking his eyes between Danny and the back door. 

Danny’s eyes widened and he held his hands in front of him. They were still trembling. 

“Joel,” Juliet hissed, moving to stand beside him, trying her best to get him to look at her. 

Danny broke out into a sick cough, pulling their attention to him. “No one,” he said between thick breaths. “Just me, I told you.” 

“Joel, what are you doing? He knows something!” Juliet protested, gripping his arm to lower his shotgun. 

“I know he does,” Joel agreed coldly, then turned his focus back to Danny. “Why’d you keep looking behind you?” he challenged.

Danny’s hands were still in front of him. “I haven’t! Just put the gun down and we can talk about this,” his eyes darted to Juliet, “I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Please, Joel,” Juliet whispered to him, seemingly blinded to all danger by her desperate need to know the truth. 

But he knew what was best. He knew how to protect her, even when she couldn’t do it herself. 

So, Joel stepped around the table and stalked through the room towards the back door. Juliet was on his heels. 

“I swear, there’s no one out there,” Danny called out behind them, struggling to match their pace. 

When Joel’s hand reached the door, he paused, listening. Beside him, Juliet did the same, slowing her breathing. Seconds later, she looked up at him and Joel watched as her eyes darted to the door with a nod. Juliet’s self preservation had returned. 

He nodded back and held up his hand, asking her to wait, to trust him. Juliet pulled her gun out and flipped the safety off, nodding back. 

Her faith in him nearly sent Joel to his knees. 

His hand met the cool metal handle and he turned, pushing the door open only an inch. Joel turned back as the winter sun streamed in, illuminating the red hidden in Juliet’s deep brown hair. 

Then he pushed the door open further, and stepped out into the small courtyard. His head turned quickly, scanning the area for any movements. His horse was -

Where was his horse? 

Hot blood rushed in Joel’s ears as his gaze dipped. 

No.

The carcass barely resembled the creature they had ridden here on. 

It lay on its side, with black eyes now devoid of life. The head was the only part of him still intact. Its torso had been split open, its ribs had been cracked and only red nothingness remained inside. 

Shock didn’t usually get to Joel, but the sight made him pause. 

Time slowed to a crawl. He should have called out to Juliet, yelled at her to slam the door closed, to lock herself inside. The words coated his tongue but he couldn’t get them out. 

Whoever did this was still here, waiting, lingering. They had probably been watching them the whole time. 

He didn’t know where to look. They could be anywhere.

Time started to speed up again and Joel’s head turned as his warning began to leave his lips. 

“Stay insi-”

His world tilted so suddenly, Joel wondered, for a split-second, if the world had been knocked off its axis. Then the pain exploded across the side of his head.

Joel’s vision blurred as he dropped to his knees on the biting concrete. His shotgun slammed to the ground beside him, echoing the sound across the walls of the courtyard. 

A piercing scream unleashed from a direction he couldn’t figure out, he thought the voice called his name but his head hit the ground and he couldn’t hear anymore.

He was always too fucking slow. 

___________________________

@amyispxnk @casa-boiardi @http-paprika @shotgun-shelby @weeping-werewolf @mysaviorjoelmiller @chlojoceycom @joelmillersblog @socialistmary @orcasoul @ashhlsstuff @caitlynsixxx

[oh-no-another-idea]

Friday Kiss tag

Thank you to @kittensartswriting and @indecentpause for the tags! I have gone searching through my wips with a magnifying glass for those few and far between kisses, but here is one from my marinating wip about Sal <3

“I miss the days when you were skinny enough that I could push you over,” Sal said, and the words were bittersweet. Of course, she missed the days colored by childhood glories. These days, with Anaar tall and strong and lovely…they weren't so bad either. Not that she’d ever speak those words aloud. He looked down at her and though only his dark eyes were visible above his red scarf, she knew he was grinning. “Sorry,” he said, spreading his hands, not looking very sorry at all. Sal sighed and turned to examine a spice vendor’s wares. The lovely vibrant powders had been poured to such heights that each rose from its barrel into a thin tapered point. How the vendor didn’t knock into one and send it spilling across the street, Sal would never know. “Don’t be grumpy,” Anaar cajoled. “It’s not that I’m not used to it, but why spoil the afternoon?” In his far hand, he produced a rabbit candy from thin air. Sal couldn’t help but swipe for it even though she was playing right into his hands. He grabbed her around the shoulder and tugged her close. She could feel the kiss pressed to her forehead through his soft scarf. Then she had the candy in her hand and unfurled the rice paper wrapper, safe from the crowds, sheltered by Anaar’s useful bulk.

I would like to see all the kisses! Please feel free to take this OPEN TAG and tag me so I can see your writing :) also pssp pssp any interest in playing, @catchingbigfish @awritingcaitlin @jasmineinthenight @eccaiia @reneesbooks

@winterandwords @chayscribbles @chauceryfairytales @talesofsorrowandofruin 💙

[geralt-of-baevia]

Call It What You Want: Chapter Nine

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine

pairing: nobreakout!joel x f!ofc (Violet Fletcher)

rating: explicit, MDNI 18+

word count: 4.3k

summary: Seeking solace from a painful breakup, Violet relocates to a tranquil town, purchasing a neglected house to renovate. In her new neighborhood, she befriends Harlow, who introduces her to Joel, a gruff and seasoned contractor with a heart of gold. Despite Joel's initial grumpiness, Violet finds herself drawn to his expertise and hidden kindness.

As Violet immerses herself in home renovations alongside Joel, their dynamic begins to shift, with Joel unexpectedly opening himself up to the possibility of love. Their budding relationship faces challenges as shadows from their pasts emerge, testing their newfound connection.

warnings/tags: softdom!joel, hung!joel, soft!Joel, a few spanks, wall sex, cunnilingus, male receiving oral sex, unprotected p in v sex, taking joel for a ride, cuddles

a/n: i mean, these two couldn't stay off of each other for THAT long, right? :P also I want to apologize for the length of it, but I'm not going to muahahah

Six days had passed since Joel and I had sex and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. When I was baking pies, doing laundry, making breakfast it was burning in the back of my brain. After Joel and I laid and cuddled for a while that night, I begrudgingly got up to pee while he went downstairs to put away the dinner he had set out. When he came back upstairs, he had a plate of food for us to share in bed. Not to mention, I got the best sleep I had gotten in a while that night. 

It had also been almost a week since I had dropped the pies off at Bill and Frank’s diner. Curiosity ate at me a little so I decided to go down and visit the diner to see how my pies had been selling. I hadn’t asked all week because quite frankly, I was nervous that they weren’t going to sell. 

When I entered the diner, a tall girl with chestnut skin and dark brown hair greeted me. 

“Hi, just one today?” she asked. I looked down and noticed her name tag said ‘Riley.’ 

“Actually I’m here to see Frank or Bill,” I told her. Her eyes lit up. 

“Are you the pie lady?” she asked excitedly. I nodded. 

“Frank told me you might be coming by this week,” she said, “the cherry pie you made was fantastic, oh my god.”

“Thank you,” I said with a chuckle, “I’m glad you liked it. But, are either of them here?”

“Violet! Just the lady I wanted to see!” I looked to my side and saw Frank wheeling himself towards me from the back. I leaned down and gave him a hug once he got over to me. 

“Frank! It’s so nice to see you,” I told him as he gave me squeeze. 

“You too, doll. I’m assuming you’re here about the pies? Curious as to how much we sold?” he asked elusively. 

“I am. And maybe to get some early lunch?” 

Frank beamed at me. “That sounds great. Let’s go sit and talk!”

Riley got us set up at a table and I ordered a BLT with a coke. Frank ordered just a cup of coffee. 

“So, now. I have good news for you,” he said. My heart began pounding in my chest. 

“How’d they do?” I asked, my face wincing. He shook his head with a chuckle. 

“There’s no need to be nervous, doll,” he started, “we only have half a pie left.”

My eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, go look at the case. There’s only half a pecan pie left,” he said, nodding his head in that direction. I got up from my chair and power walked to the otherside of the restaurant. When I got to the case I could have cried. There were name displaces for all five of the pies I made and as Frank said, only half of a pecan pie was left. The other flavors had little signs that said ‘Sorry, sold out’ in place of the pies.

“They have been very popular.” I looked up to see Riley standing behind the case, resting her arms on top. 

“I can’t believe it,” I said happily. Imposter syndrome was something I was sure would never leave. I had a full blown bakery shop, and I still couldn’t believe my pies sold out at a diner.

The ding of the door opening and closing distracted me. I looked over and saw Ellie and Joel. When they saw me their faces lit up. 

“Violet! What are you doing here?” Ellie practically yelled before running over to me. This time I was prepared for her hug; she wasn’t going to knock me over this time. 

“I came to check on how the pies sold,” I told her as I gave her a tight squeeze. 

“Oh they’ve been selling like crazy. I had someone ask to buy just a full pie,” she told me. I gave her a funny look. “Violet, I work here.”

“Ohhhh,” I breathed out, things suddenly clicking. I knew she worked at a diner, I just didn’t realize that it was this diner. And that meant the Riley she had told me about, was this Riley who greeted me. 

“Did you not realize the diner El works at is Frank’s?” Joel asked as he walked over to us. I rolled my eyes jokingly. 

“There’s more than one diner in this town! No one tells me things!” I joked. 

“Alright, I gotta go get ready and clocked in,” she said. She gave us a little salute before heading to the back. Joel came over and gave me a hug, kissing the top of my head. 

“Did Frank tell you?” he asked, still holding me close. I nodded. 

“He did. I could cry,” I said, “come sit and have lunch with us.”

I took him by the hand and led him back over to where Frank was sitting. Joel and Frank exchanged friendly nods as we sat down. 

“So, I think we’re going to need more pies from you,” he said. I giggled nervously. 

“Like, how many?” I asked. 

“Like, twice as many.”

My chest swelled. I couldn’t believe it. 

“Really?” I asked. Joel put a hand on my thigh and gave it a squeeze. I looked over to him and he looked nothing short of proud. 

“Is that going to be feasible?” Frank asked. 

“Oh, absolutely.”

Joel and I sat and talked to Frank for a bit. We came up with a pie game plan while I ate the food I had ordered, Joel stealing fries off of my plate. I wrote down a rough draft of my pie making schedule on a napkin, realizing I was going to be baking at least five days a week again. This was better than I could have imagined. 

When we were done, Frank gave us hugs goodbye and headed back to his office. Joel and I went up to the cashwrap so I could pay. When we got there, Ellie was waiting for us. As I started to pull my wallet out of my back pocket Ellie stopped me. 

“Oh, no. Frank already told me that it was on the house,” she said with a smirk. After looking around the diner and making sure Riley wasn’t anywhere nearby, I leaned across the counter closer to Ellie.

“Is that the Riley you’ve been telling me about?” I asked in a low whisper. Ellie’s cheeks immediately flushed. 

“Mmhmm,” she said with a nod. 

“She’s cuuuuute,” I told her with a quick wink. She blushed even harder. 

“Wait, what? Who?” Joel asked from behind me. I turned around and shot him a look. 

“This is girl talk Joel, back out,” I said with a cheeky grin. 

He rolled his eyes, his true grump coming out. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

We said goodbye to Ellie and headed out to the sidewalk in front of the diner. Someone passed by us to walk inside, but they stopped and backtracked to us. 

“Violet Fletcher?” 

I turned to see a woman who had been a long time customer of mine back at the bakery. I was happily relieved that it was her, and not one of Matt’s friends. 

“Mary! It’s so nice to see you,” I said genuinely. She pulled me into a hug and I happily obliged. 

“It’s nice to see you too! I was so worried. One day you were there and the next the bakery had sold and you were nowhere to be found,” she explained, her face being overcome with worry, “are you working here now?” 

I nodded. “More or less. I moved here a few months ago, bought a house to fix up. I know the owner here and my pies have been selling here for about a week,” I told her happily. Her eyes lit up. 

“They have your pies here? Oh, I’m so glad I’m stopping in. I’ll have to get a slice!” she said excitedly. 

We said our goodbyes and she went into the restaurant. Joel gave me a look.

“What?” I asked, putting my sunglasses on. 

“Well, it’s good to know you weren’t lying about the whole having a bakery thing,” he said with a cheeky wink. My jaw dropped dramatically at his joke, playing along. 

“Sir, I am shocked by you thinking such a think of little ol’ me,” I said, putting on a fake southern accent at the end of my sentence and a dramatic hand to my chest. I saw the gleam in his eye when I said ‘sir’ again. The way his eyes scanned me up and down for just a second at my word. 

Joel cleared his throat, and shifted his weight between his feet uncomfortably. I had a flash of electricity shoot through my body, bringing me back to my memories of the other night with him. 

“Joel?”

“Hmmm?”

“...do you want to come over?” 

His eyes flashed up to meet mine. 

“Yes.”

Joel and I barely made it through the front door before he pinned me against the wall. This time instead of pinning my back, he turned me around so that my front was pressed against the wallpaper. He rolled his hips against my ass, grinding his hardening member in the valley between my cheeks. 

He nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck, planting clumsy and passionate kisses on my skin. I reached up with my right hand and placed it on the back of his neck, holding him in place. 

“Joel, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you…” I breathed out between soft moans. He bit down on my shoulder at my words, causing me to grind back against him. 

“God you were so fucking sexy…” he murmured in my ear. His teeth grazed my earlobe, a needy growl filling my senses. I felt his hands slip under the skirt of the dress I was wearing, flipping it up and exposing my ass. He grabbed it roughly, massaging it as I moaned. 

“Joel, I need you to do something, anything,” I murmured out. He breathed out a laugh. 

“Is that so?” he asked, his tone cocky. I shuddered as his hands slipped under the hem of my underwear, “what do you want me to do?” 

Bliss began to fog my brain, and I couldn’t think straight. He could do anything to me and I’d be content. 

“Uh-I um-”

I was cut off by one of Joel’s hands coming up to my face as he held my chin between his thumb and pointer finger. My head was turned as far as it could, and I could see in my peripheral that his eyes were blown out by lust. All I could do was whimper. 

“Soon you will learn, my little dove, that when I ask you a question, I want you to answer it,” he said. His voice was stern, but not frightening, “is that understood?” 

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” 

“Yes, I’ll answer you.”

“Come now, you know that’s not what I wanted you to say,” he crooned low in my ear, his lips just brushing it. “You know you want to say it.”

My heart began to race in my chest, this time with nerves. 

“Y-Yes, sir.”

He let out another airy chuckle, kissing the spot just below my ear. 

“Good girl.” 

I was thankful Joel had me pinned to the wall or my knees would have gone out from under me. 

“I-I want you to go down on me,” I muttered out. Joel hummed out his approval. Without saying anything, Joel began to kneel down. Right now? Here? I began to turn around but he stopped me, putting strong steady hands on my hips to keep me facing the wall. 

“You stay right there,” he cooed. 

He pulled on my hips, making me take a step backwards. My ass was now angled out at him with my upper body still resting against the wall. I felt as he pulled my underwear down to my ankles, helping me step out of them. For a moment there was nothing, but then suddenly my ass was stinging. His large hands came down on my cheeks, the sound echoing in the entryway. 

I gasped, my skin burning red hot where his hands had come in contact with my cheeks. Joel grabbed onto my knees and helped me take a step out with each of my feet. Suddenly, I felt Joel spread me apart. My wet cunt was now exposed to the cool air, making me feel more needy than I already was. I heard Joel moan behind me, seemingly taking in the sight. 

I moaned out as Joel’s tongue swiped up my slit, this time starting at my clit and moving up to my entrance. His mouth was warm, sending shivers down my spine. With each flick of his tongue, I could feel my desire building within me. Joel's strong hands gripped my hips tightly, pulling me closer to his face as he continued to explore my sensitive areas.

Suddenly, I felt the tip of his tongue enter me, and I let out a stifled moan. Joel thrust his tongue deeper into me, darting in and out as if he was trying to find the most pleasurable spot. I wanted to beg him to go faster, to give me more, but my voice remained trapped in my throat.

Joel's hands gripped my hips, steadying me as he continued to devour my cunt. I could feel him muffling his groans against me, the vibrations adding to the sensations. My heart raced, my breath came in short gasps, and my legs trembled as I felt myself getting closer to the peak of pleasure. It was like a speeding train with no brakes, barreling towards its inevitable end.

It wasn't long before I could no longer hold back the wave of pleasure building within me. I cried out loudly as my orgasm shuddered through me, my body arching in response. Joel's tongue never faltered, continuing to pleasure me as I trembled in his grasp. Once I started to come down from my high, Joel got to his feet and took me by the hand. I didn’t have a chance to catch my breath after my orgasm, but I knew it wouldn’t be long until Joel brought me to climax again.

He led me up the stairs, our fingers intertwined. Joel's touch was gentle yet determined as he guided me into the bedroom. He pushed me gently onto the plush mattress, his hands exploring every inch of my body with a mixture of ache and hunger. I lay there, my heart still racing and my body humming with desire from the intensity we had just shared. But despite the exhaustion, I was already craving for more.

Joel climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between my legs. I felt his hard cock against me, his desire matching my own. He leaned down and kissed me, our tongues entwining as our bodies grew closer. I reached up to touch his face, running my fingers through his hair, feeling the stubble against the soft pads of my skin.

His lips journeyed down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses that sent shivers down my spine. I moaned softly, arching my back as he teased me with his lips and teeth.

“I want you to stand,” I told him softly.

“Oh?” he asked, his voice cocky.

“Mmhmm,” I hummed out, “I need to return the favor.”

Joel trailed kisses back up to my mouth, kissing me passionately. “Anything you say, dove.”

I gazed up at Joel as he rose to his feet, towering over me on the bed. I slowly moved down onto my knees in front of him on the floor. My heart raced, a flutter of butterflies in my stomach as he stood before me. The warmth of his smile enveloped me, making me feel safe and cherished.

Slowly I began undoing Joel's belt and tugged at his zipper, feeling the satisfying resistance before it gave way to my fingers. As I pulled down his pants, I marveled at the size and thickness of his erection through his boxers. He was well-endowed, and even though I had seen it before, it was always going to shock me.

I fumbled with his boxers, trying to pull them down his legs. Joel reached down and took over, his fingers brushing against mine. Our eyes met as he pulled the fabric down, exposing him to me in all his glory. I couldn't help but let out a soft moan as I took him. It was amazing to me that I was able to fit all of him in me last time.

My lips parted as I admired him, feeling a sense of awe and lust wash over me. I could almost taste the saltiness of his skin, a desire that seemed to grow stronger with each passing second.

My fingers reached out, hesitating just for a moment before wrapping around the base of his shaft. I could feel the heat radiating from it, pulsing with each beat of his heart. It was a sight I could have never dreamed of, to have such control over someone's body. But in this moment, all that mattered was the pleasure I could bring him.

With a deep breath, I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against the smooth skin of his cock before I licked the very tip, letting the taste of him flood my senses. I heard Joel let out a heavy moan, it hanging in the air. I smiled to myself, now taking the head of his cock into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around it, eliciting more moans out of him.

As I continued to pleasure him, I began rubbing my hands up and down his thighs, feeling the tension leave his body as his breathing became heavier. I bobbed my head, taking in more of him with each stroke, my lips and tongue working in harmony to bring him to the brink.

His hands gently guided me, encouraging me to take more of him, driving me to go deeper. I reached up, grasping his shaft as my mouth slid down. I felt his fingers brush my hair, a small gesture of affection that set me on fire.

Joel’s moans grew louder as he began fucking into my mouth, his rhythm quickening as he neared the edge. I knew I had to stop, to deny him that release, to savor the moment just a little bit longer. I pulled back, my lips glistening with saliva and the taste of him. I looked up at him, watching his lust filled eyes pierce my soul.

“I’m going to lay down on this bed, and then you’re going to get on top of me and ride your tight little pussy on my cock until we cum,” he told me sternly, “is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I agreed, eager to fulfill his wishes. With a fierce determination, Joel hurled himself onto my bed. His desire pulsed through his body as he stood at attention, ready to claim me. I couldn't resist his commanding presence as I got onto the bed and began to crawl towards him. My heart pounded in my chest as I prepared to mount him. As I reached his side, I positioned myself above him, my core hovering over his erect shaft.

Joel reached out and seized my hips, guiding me down onto him slowly. I felt his cock sliding into me, filling me up completely. I gasped at the sensation, my eyes widening in pleasure. Joel dug his fingers into my hips as he began to thrust. Our bodies moved in sync, my hips undulating in rhythm with his. I moaned, my pleasure rising with each thrust. Joel's hands left my hips and moved to cup my breasts, his fingers pinching and twisting my nipples.

“Fuck, Joel!” I almost screamed. I pressed my palms firmly against his chest, using all of my strength to bounce up and down on his cock. The intense heat between us spurred me on, driving me to seek out every bit of friction I could find. My hips rolled and rocked, searching for the perfect angle, while my hands grasped at his skin in a desperate attempt to hold onto reality.

Each movement sent a jolt of pleasure through me, building and building until I was consumed by a wild, primal need for release. I knew Joel felt the same, his wild eyes and his face tensing.

“Joel-Joel-” 

Before I could say anymore, Joel pulled me down into his embrace, pressing my body against his warm, sweaty chest. His arms enveloped me in a strong hold as he held me close to him. My skin tingled at the contact and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as we were lost in each other's embrace.

But that moment came to an end as Joel began thrusting up into me, hitting exactly the spot I craved him to. As I began to peak again, his thrusts began to quicken, the sounds of our hips meeting together echoing in the room. With a few more thrusts, Joel let out a deep growl and released deep inside of me. His muscles tensed, and I could feel his hot release, filling me up even more. I cried out, feeling myself begin to cum too, my orgasm washing over me like a tidal wave.

He held me close, our bodies trembling with pleasure as the intensity of the moment washed over us. Our hearts beat in sync, our breaths intertwined. Joel slipped himself out of me with a small moan, and I moved to lay down next to him. He still held onto me tightly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he came down from his high. I placed my chin on his chest and gazed up at him, taking in his features with admiration.

His eyes stayed closed, his face relaxing. His profile was something I swear could have been carved out of marble in ancient greek times. His nose was strong, his chin was firm and defined, his cheeks tslightly flushed from our exertions. His jawline was sharp, and I couldn't help but trace it gently with my fingertips as I marveled at its strength and beauty. I moved to his lips, which were slightly parted, brushing my fingertips lightly across his bottom lip.

With his eyes still closed, a sneaky smile crept onto his face.

“What?” I asked softly, a smile forming on my lips.

“I can feel you starin’ at me,” he said. I giggled.

“And what’s your point?” I jeered. He chuckled softly, peeking an eye open to look down at me.

“I don’t know why,” he said. It was clear he genuinely meant what he said, that made my heart drop a little. I moved up until my face was hovering in front of his. I placed a hand on his cheek, rubbing my thumb over his stubble.

“Because you’re breathtaking.”

Joel's eyes widened as he gazed into mine, almost as though searching for any hint of sarcasm in my words. He leaned in and kissed me, his lips pressing firmly against mine. I playfully pecked him on the nose before snuggling back into his embrace.

The warmth of Joel's embrace felt like a shield against the world outside. I could feel his steady heartbeat beneath my ear, a comforting rhythm that soothed the lingering thoughts in my mind. As we lay there intertwined, I traced the lines of his face with gentle fingertips, committing every curve and contour to memory.

In that moment, surrounded by the glow of the afternoon light filtering through the curtains, I felt a sense of peace I hadn't known in years. The weight of my past, the scars left by Matt seemed to fade into the background as Joel's adoration enveloped me completely.

I knew that our relationship defied convention, with our significant age gap raising eyebrows and sparking gossip among those who couldn't understand our connection. But in Joel's arms, none of that mattered. He saw me for who I truly was, not as a victim of my past but as a survivor reclaiming her independence and strength.

“Can I ask you something?” He opened his eyes and met mine as I nodded.

“Why do you freeze up when I ask you to choose something when we’re having sex?” he asked. My heart fell into my stomach, weighed down by fear and shame.

“Um, well let’s just say I used to not get a choice. I just kinda had to go along with whatever he did,” I explained, looking everywhere but Joel’s eyes. He wrapped his arms around me even tighter, as if trying to make up for Matt's behavior with an affectionate hug. “Like in the last week, you’ve gone down on me more than he did in the last year we were together.”

Joel’s eyes widened, like he couldn’t believe what I was saying.

“And that’s not right,” Joel said firmly. He cupped my cheek with his hand, and I could feel the warmth of his touch radiating through me. “But that’s not going to happen again. I promise.”

I let out a shaky breath, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I knew Joel meant what he said, but the memories of my past still haunted me. Joel leaned in closer to me, his breath warm against my face. 

“You’re safe with me,” he whispered. “I’ll never hurt you.”

I couldn’t help but fully believe him in that moment. His words and his touch were a comforting embrace, easing the pain left in Matt’s wake. As I sank into his embrace, any thoughts of Matt drifted away.

I could tell the darkness that had lingered within me for so long was starting to recede, replaced by a newfound sense of hope and love. I allowed myself to be fully immersed in Joel's warmth, my fingers gently tracing the lines of his face once more. He was starting to become home, and I loved that idea more and more as time passed.