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beardedjoel · 5 months

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smother - part ii: resistance

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: joel knows how to break you just right, to get you feeling helpless enough to accept what he believes you need. somewhere deep inside of you, you think you might like it. 10.9k words (sorry) chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! noncon, nonconsensual touching, dubcon - reader eventually enthusiastically consents but the syndrome is stockholming so its dubcon, reader is a virgin, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is late 40s) masturbation (m), nipple play/groping, manipulation, joel def has a corruption kink, joel gets a bit violent in this chapter, y'all get a lot of touching and (kissing), if these darker tags aren't your cup of tea please keep scrolling! a/n: okay i'm even more nervous about this chapter than the first, idk how it got so long but i really hope its tense and enticing for you all! i love writing dark joel, this has been such a thrill so far tbh! get buckled in for heavy duty smut next chapter too ✌️

Light spills in around the thick, heavy curtains, drawn tightly shut. Just a glowing sliver on the edges and underneath, telling you it’s at least well into the morning, that you’ve been asleep for longer than you’d expected to. Your brain is a scrambled, hazy mess from the way you’d finally been able to pass out, still encumbered by Joel’s grasp holding you down. After a while his heaviness had a calming effect, the opposite of what you’d ever thought would happen when he first came into your bed last night. But now, he was nowhere to be found, the other side of your bed cold and empty, such a stark difference that you start to wonder if maybe you’d imagined it, dreamed it all last night.

You get up to let some light from the day in, your eyes burning as they adjust and you see that it looks to be late afternoon already. How many hours had you been out for?

Recollections of the night before flood your brain - Joel��s warmth pressed so close to you, his hard body molding softly into yours like he knew how to keep you safe, take care of you, just like he’d said. Yet there’s still an unease surrounding the thoughts, that he’d made the decision for you, came into your bed and lied. It sends a shiver up your spine, half thrill and half fear as you contemplate what you should do next. Maybe plotting a way to Jackson is the right move, but something about Joel was keeping you here, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on yet. It was more of a feeling, something indescribable that came over you when thinking about him.

Could he really save you, like he said? Or was he just a sick old man with a fantasy? One he’d fulfill before tossing you out just as easily as he’d taken you in.

You sigh heavily and sit on the edge of the bed for a few moments, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You finally decide you have to leave this bedroom sometime and face Joel again to see if those same confusing feelings from last night persist, or even to clear the air between you two. You freshen up a bit with a toothbrush and homemade toothpaste that Joel had left out for you before fixing your hair to an acceptable enough level. You creep out of the bedroom, soft and quiet movements with socks padding your feet as you listen to hear what Joel is up to downstairs. No sounds of cookware or silverware clinking on plates, no rustling on the pages of a book, no distant sound of him chopping wood outside again. Until you do hear something.

A sound almost in between a whimper and a groan, and it’s right there, the door diagonally down the hall from yours. You freeze, brows knit together as you wait to try to hear it again. The next time you hear it, it’s more urgent, more gruff, a loud exhale. Was it a pained sound? You couldn’t quite tell as you walked closer, noticing the light spilling from a crack in Joel’s door out into the dim, windowless hallway.

One peek through the opening in his door has your eyes widening. A gasp sticks itself in your throat but you clap your hand over your mouth when you take in the sight before you. Shit…

All your eyes immediately focus on is Joel’s cock, heavy and thick, hanging out of his pants in a tight grasp in his hand. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, practically in perfect view through this open sliver in the doorway. His eyes are closed, lost in the moment as he grunts a little bit more. You avert your eyes almost immediately, standing frozen with your cheeks burning. You’re not completely unaware, and you do have an idea of what he’s doing. You can’t help but flick your eyes back to him as another strained exhale leaves his lips, your eyes drifting down to where he’s sliding his hand in quick jerks. His cock is pink and slick as he runs his hand along it, and you start to tune into the lewd, sloppy sounds that it's all making as flesh hits flesh over and over again. You squirm in place, feeling your knees go a bit weak before you finally notice it.

Your underwear.

It feels like something screeches to a halt inside of you, everything moving in slower motion for a few seconds as this information sinks in. Joel’s face, turning more red and eyes rolling back as he pumps his cock with your underwear from yesterday in his other hand, a fist tightly wrapped around the material. You shudder, but find the little zing traveling further to a spot right between your legs, making you clench your thighs together tighter.

It’s all so… so… a feeling you can’t quite explain that starts to make your skin hot, and a scene you don’t know if you want to stop watching. You are just curious after all, you lie to yourself in those few seconds of continued peeking on Joel’s private moment.

You sense a difference in his movements, flashing your sight up to his face where his eyes are open now, gaze locked on yours, heavy lidded as a smile plays on his lips. He doesn’t stop, though, like you thought he would, and it practically steals the breath from your lungs.

“Oh… sh- sorry,” you blurt out, panicky and quiet before you can think about it, covering your eyes with your palm and hastily pulling the door shut.

Joel can’t stop smiling, a wry, devilish thing as he continues in fast, long strokes on his cock. You knowing exactly what he’s doing in here is only urging him on even more, the look in your eyes as he’d caught your stare on his glistening, ruddy cock making him harder.

His smile grows when he realizes you haven’t stopped enjoying the show, not at all, despite your appearances of shutting the door behind you. What he realizes you don’t know, is that he can see the shadow of your feet underneath the door, tiny, anxious movements that catch the light and cast shadows.

If you want to listen, he’s surely not going to disappoint you, another little groan slipping past his lips and he tightens his grip and speeds up, picturing you in his mind. He can practically see it now, one of your perfect little hands clasped over your mouth outside his door, trying not to make a peep, your body rigid as you lean closer to listen. Those perfect little hands that should never have to lift a finger, should always be taken care of. A pulse of pleasure wracks his body at the thought of him being the one to do that for you.

“Fuck,” he whispers hoarsely. “Fuuuuck…”

A few more swift tugs on his length and he’s stuffing your underwear right at the head of his cock, thrusting once and cumming hard into the fabric with a loud moan, the only thing on his mind the mental image of you in nothing but these.

He’s not too weak to admit he’s already completely addicted to you. Your pretty face, the way you’d finally given him those few little smiles yesterday. How you fit so wonderfully in his arms last night once you’d decided that you needed him. Joel knows he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you as his, to make sure you understand just what you need, how you need him. He sighs as he leans back a moment, then stares down at your underwear, his creamy release staining it now looking like one of the most beautiful sights. To paint you with it himself would nearly kill him, send him into a point of no turning back. No, there’s no doubt now that he’s addicted to this… And god help anyone who tries to take it from him, even you.

The moment you hear Joel’s longer, drawn out groan you scurry away, light as can be on your feet and tiptoe down the stairs in a hurry. The mortification you’d feel if he opened the door to you standing there listening in is more than you can bear. You wish you hadn't been curious, hadn’t wanted to stop and stare just to watch just a bit longer. It wasn’t your fault that you felt completely embarrassingly lost when it came to… sex, but you know it was wrong to invade Joel’s privacy like that. He had left the door cracked, hadn’t he, though? Your brain devours the information, barely able to latch onto that train of thought before the next one comes barreling in.

You pace back and forth in the kitchen, hands wrung anxiously over and over again in front of you. You gaze at the staircase practically every millisecond, waiting for Joel to come down, wondering if he will. You two have to confront this, right? He knows what you saw, and you certainly know what you saw, the image burned into your mind now. All the details seem hazy in your panic, but all you can think about is your underwear in his hands, and how your current pair feel damp now against your own will. You’d felt this before - attraction and arousal - but not like this. You had been so close to everything this time, not just hearing stories or thinking about kissing a boy you thought was good looking. This was a full fledged man, pleasuring himself right in the next room to you. It makes you break out in a sweat, your body hot and breathing shallow as the floorboards creak under your rushing movements.

You sigh and continue pacing for another moment before trying to make yourself busy by putting on the kettle, maybe to make some tea, something to calm your frayed nerves. If Joel didn’t wind up kicking you straight back out into the wilderness after that debacle, you’d be surprised. Maybe you should think about kicking yourself out to avoid any of this awkwardness. You make a split second decision to grab your things and go, your first steps out of the kitchen interrupted by heavy footfall upstairs, lazily making its way down to you.

You stand frozen, your plan quickly forgotten when you see Joel, moving with confidence, his steps nonchalant and unhurried as he approaches with a satisfied look on his face. Not angry, not embarrassed, just a casual, almost smug look plastered on his features. You look at a spot past him before dipping your eyes to the floor, your face already heated and flushed. He’s wearing jeans again but this time with a plain, moss green henley shirt rolled halfway up his forearms. Another shirt showing off his strong, muscular form, and it’s killing you inside, especially now that you’ve seen just that much more of him.

“Sit,” he says plainly, finishing his walk to the kitchen table where he pulls out a chair, settling himself down. When you dare to glance in his direction, he’s giving you a look that sends a shudder up your spine, already knowing he’s about to ask much less nicely if you don’t heed his words. Your shaky hand pulls out a chair, perching yourself on the edge, hands holding on to one another for dear life in your lap. You feel like a child about to be scolded for doing something naughty, and you suppose in many ways that’s exactly what’s happening right now.

“J-“ you start, with Joel cutting you off before you can even get a syllable out.

“You enjoy listenin’ to that little show? Gettin’ a little peek?” Joel asks smoothly, a hint of irritation but also gratification in his tone. He leans forward onto the table with his forearms pressed against the wood.

“N-no I didn’t… I mean I didn’t see much. I didn’t hear… I swear. I’m really sorry, that just made things so… uncomfortable…” you ramble on, feeling like a bumbling idiot as you’re sure your body is about to catch fire.

“Did it?” Joel asks, eyebrow lifted in casual questioning. It makes you stop, your lips sitting parted with words you can’t express, clouded by confusion.

“Well… didn’t it? I’m - I don’t know what’s… normal… That didn’t feel…” Your eyes search his face wildly, and you know he can see you, trembling like a fawn stood in the clearing of a forest just before it bolts.

Joel sighs out a long exhale. “Seems like you enjoyed it, standin’ outside my door.” He states it as a fact, not a guess, and your stomach twists as it sinks. How he knows is beyond you, and you can only sit in your shame now, eyes fixed downwards on the table. You’ve never found knots in wood so interesting before as you stay transfixed by the glossy surface.

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of. Just curious, weren’t ya?” he says, his voice rumbling softly. His hand inches towards you across the table and you finally get the nerve to look up at his eyes. They’ve gone gentler, full of understanding. You’re sure your expression gives everything away, your shock, your intrigue at what you’d witnessed. “Weren’t you?” he asks again, and you finally give him a little nod.

His lips twitch upwards in a wry grin just as the kettle starts to whistle, the sound ramping up rapidly into the silent room. You both stare at each other for a few moments, still processing your answer to him. The screeching reaches a fever pitch, making your skin start to crawl, so you push your chair out in a hurry to grab it off the stove. Joel’s hand shoots out, his large hand snatching your thigh, fingers wrapping around and digging into the flesh through your sweatpants. You halt, your ass plopping right back into the chair as Joel stares at you through narrowed eyes.

“I’ve got it,” he says sternly. He waits a moment longer, making sure you’re fully seated and about to heed his words before standing up. The kettle is at a deafening scream, but Joel seems in no hurry, sauntering over to the stove. You breathe out a sigh of relief as the sound tapers off, Joel setting the kettle to the side while he busies himself with reaching up to some open shelving along the wall where you see several jars full of different types of tea leaves. He’s silent, moving slowly, as if to make you sweat it out, and you admit that his plan is working. You don’t know the last time you felt such an odd, burning fear inside of you. Different than facing infected, than being so hungry without knowing where your next meal is coming from. It’s primal, deep down inside of you, meek little claws in a vice grip at the core of you, a burning that travels downward repeatedly, right between your legs. You notice you’ve started trembling without even realizing it.

He brings a steaming mug over, setting it on the table in front of you. It smells mainly of chamomile, maybe some lavender - you see Joel read your mind on wanting something for your nerves. Instead of retaking his seat across from you, he walks around the table, doing a slow, deliberate lap. His feet, although shoe-less, make an impact along the floor, and you feel like each one sounds like a drum along with the way your heart is beating in your ears. He circles back and pauses behind your chair, sliding his forearm across your chest, tucking it close to your neck.

You really were trapped now. Not just by your own mental doing, unable to make yourself leave at the first sign of trouble with this man for god knows what reason, but truly, physically ensnared by his embrace. His arm wraps tighter across the top of your chest, his hand squeezing on the shoulder where it snakes around.

“Tell me…” he leans closer, lips coming to your ear, a hint of a smirk in his tone although you can’t see his face now. “That the first cock you ever seen? Or just the first you seen one like mine?”

Your head swims, unsure of how to answer. He has you trapped with this question, either answer damning to you. You sputter and scoff out a chuckle, shaking your head.

“No, you say? Which one, honey, c’mon it’s a simple question.” His arm tightens, fingers digging in along your shoulder. “No judgement here, just a curious man, thas’ all.” He says the words as if he’s expectant of a certain answer for you, following a hunch and looking to confirm it for himself. He knows, he knows, he knows. He knows you so effortlessly, reads your mind like it’s the simplest thing in the world. You worry he sees right through you right down to your debased thoughts, the ones where you give in to him and these foreign feelings you want to chase.

You shake your head again. “I haven’t…” Your cheeks burn with the confession, hoping he won’t make you actually say the words. You struggle uncomfortably in his grip, his scent invading your senses now as well, mint and leftover coffee from this morning and your stomach burns so hot you think you might be sick now. He responds with a tighter grasp, his arm starting to press a bit on your windpipe.

Joel blows out a breath, the sound nearly grating next to your ear. “Never seen a cock before till today? Till you saw mine the way you did? That so, darlin’?” He sounds amazed, excitement creeping into his voice.

You swallow hard, fighting back tears, but you nod for him. “Y-yes…” you admit with a shaky voice, willing yourself not to cry again in front of Joel.

“Oh, hey, hey, that’s okay. Must be an awful lot to see it jus’ like that, no context for any of it…” he murmurs, his voice oozing a sick sympathy as you sense his excitement building. “Shouldn’t have had to see it as a surprise. If it were up to me, darlin’, I’d have made sure it was perfect. Y’would’ve been amazed by the things a cock like mine can do for ya.”

He tuts quietly, his lips grazing along the shell of your ear. You squirm a little, your breathing picking up as you strain against him. You remember how much you’d liked his lips right under your ear last night, how badly you’d wanted to hate it, but here you were yet again, enjoying it.

“Now I’m gonna ask you somethin’, honey, and I want you to be honest with me, mkay?” Joel says. Your options feel limited so you motion with a nod for him to go on, his arm digging into your throat further when your head bobs down.

“Be honest, now, remember.” He squeezes your shoulder hard. “How old are ya, honey?” His lips graze your ear again and your legs tense, thighs pressing together. You nearly have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the little moan that wants to slip out of you.

You chew your lip, telling him the truth before you can even think about it too hard. “I’m nineteen.” You don’t know why you tell him the truth, why you give him any part of you, but you do.

“Hmm,” he murmurs in a low little groan. His fingers brush along your shoulder, across your chest a bit, loosening his tight grip. “Thank you for tellin’ me the truth, sweetheart. I appreciate that.”

“H-how old are you?” you ask in return, getting a haughty chuckle from Joel.

“Older’n you,” he says simply, a little growl caught in the back of his throat as his nose buries itself in your hair, taking in a deep breath.

“B-but I told you…” you whimper a little as he tightens his hold again, leaning further to press his head into your shoulder and neck.

“Why d’ya wanna know? Wonderin’ why an old man like me is gettin’ your panties wet?” he asks, amused at your expense, knocking you down just one more peg.

You blink hard and feel yourself flushing again, warmth radiating throughout your body all the way down to your fingertips. You’re angry that he seems to know every damn thing about you, and you feel like you know nothing about what he’s thinking. “I don’t understand… any of it. Why -“

“It’s all natural, sweetheart. Happens when you find yourself likin’ what I’m doin’,” Joel tells you, voice starting to sweeten like honey. His hand strokes your hair, smoothing the sides.

“I know…” you bite back, only to feel Joel move his forearm closer to your neck. Your breath hitches. “I just mean… I - I want to know how old you are.”

“You persistent little thing…” He smirks again, looking impressed by you. “I’m in my forties, that’s all y’need to know.” He pauses for a brief second, not wasting a second to keep contact with your skin, his calloused fingertips stroking along the hollow of your neck. They trickle down, gentle and fluid as water as he ghosts along your chest and over your stomach. You shudder and try to keep your eyes open, succumbing to the pleasure of it all - nobody has ever touched you like this, taken their time to feel you out and seem interested in every part of you. It’s a slow, tortuous movement while his arms reach down over you, thick muscles on display, until his fingertips brush along your waistband. They trace back and forth along the crimped edges of the band, tied tightly. He plays with the strings, a clear contemplation to untie them any second. It makes you start to tremble even more, the way you feel powerless and know you couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to.

Joel abruptly stops, pulling his arms back before he starts to walk around the chair, standing in front of you now. He doesn’t crouch to your height, standing tall and proud as he towers over where you sit. His fingers reach forward slowly and gently, thumb and forefinger taking your chin delicately, holding it like something he might break. You can finally see his expression, look into his eyes, and they’re a dark abyss full of mystery and that hungry look he’d flashed at you a few times yesterday.

“Get the sense you’re feelin’ a bit scared right now, hm?” he suddenly asks.

You swallow and then nod for him, eyes barely blinking as you try to keep track of every single movement he makes. His grip on your chin flashes tighter for just a moment before he lets it go, leaving a little red mark in his wake.

“Good girl.”

Your stomach turns as you realize he wants this, wants your fear to permeate the room so he can devour it, to know that he has this hold on you. Joel leans forward, one hand planted on the table next to you, the other coming down to rest on your thigh. He’s tender in his touch, letting his hand soothingly find its way up your leg.

Joel’s eyes bore into you, trying to capture your attention and hold it, but you can barely summon the courage to look into those dark pools, worried they’ll draw you in forever. Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on your shaky inhales and exhales as Joel’s hand rubs your thigh.

“Don’t you like it, sweetheart? Feels good to be touched here, doesn’t it?” You don’t answer him, eyes squeezed shut even tighter, a quiver starting on your lips. You try to ignore the way your body responds to the touch, skin blazing right where he’s touching and that pooling of heat starting between your legs.

“Now c’mon, open your eyes f’me. I want to take care of you, honey. Jus’ like we agreed to last night. You need me to take care of everythin’ for ya, never make you have to worry or lift a pretty little finger again. I can show you everything.” Joel pauses, waiting to see if you’ll heed his command. His hand wraps a little tighter around your thigh, fingers squeezing.

“I said… look at me. Open your eyes. Nothin’ to be afraid of.” His voice has a shake to it from trying to keep it even amongst his building frustration, his desire to have you under his thumb already. You finally brave it, your eyes opening slowly to find a softer smile playing on Joel’s lips as his face comes into focus, just a few inches from yours now.

“I want you all to myself… d’you understand what I’m sayin’?”

You nod. His smile grows, much more foreboding now.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, fingers squeezing your thigh again, brushing his thumb along the inner part, sending a set of sparks hurtling up your spine. “And you’ll stay? Won’t try to get away from me, will you?” he asks, a wicked raise of his eyebrow telling you there’s only one correct answer here.

Your face falls a little bit. “Wh- what would you do if did?” you dare to ask.

He laughs, a mirthless chuckle before he can even stop himself. “Oh, honey, what’re you gonna do? Where’ll you go? You wouldn’t get barely ten steps outside this door ‘fore I got to ya.” His eyes pierce yours before studying your face for a few moments, challenging you. “Best that you don’t even try, yeah?”

You don’t reply, hoping that the fear in your eyes and trembling lips are answer enough for him.

“Come and sit w’me, how about that? I’ve got a few more questions for you.” Joel offers you his hand and you pause, eyes fixed on his tan, rough skin - hands that have worked hard for an entire lifetime. He takes the initiative to grasp your hand instead, giving you a quick tug that has you standing up to start following him. He completely dwarfs you in every way, his hand practically enveloping your entire fist as he pulls you along towards the couch.

You don’t know what otherworldly urge possesses you so suddenly, but you glance over towards the door, then back at Joel before you muster up everything you have and shove him square in the back, yanking your captured hand back in the process. He stumbles forward, your hand slipping from his and you quickly gain your balance and bolt. You reach the front door, fumbling with the lock and knob as you hear Joel grunt loudly behind you.

“Don’t you understand? There’s nowhere to go, sweetheart,” he calls after you angrily. You don’t dare turn around as you fling the door open with a strength you didn’t even know you possessed, feet moving of their own accord as you sprint down the stairs and towards the oncoming woods. You can hear Joel’s huffs behind you, both of your shoe-less feet pounding on the frozen earth. It hurts, the cold ground combined with all types of brush and wood littering the forest floor that are now jabbing into your feet with every step. This was stupid, this was a mistake, you’re going to die out here if he doesn’t do it first.

“God… damn… it…” you hear Joel pant behind you, knowing he’s close, that it’s almost over now. You’re weak and frail still, much too slow to outrun a towering powerhouse like Joel. He was right - there’s no fighting it, no escape from here unless he allows it. Maybe it won’t be so bad… maybe you do enjoy the way he speaks to you, the way he’s been touching you… maybe it’ll all be just what you’ve needed. You’ve always wanted more than what you had, wishing for someone to care just a little more, to have a family again.

You lose yourself to an almost transcendent train of thought, letting it wash over you. As if the universe was trying to tell you the right decision, you feel your foot collide with something sharp and you stumble, a sure way to get you back into Joel’s arms. He catches you as you go down, upper arm squeezed into his grasp as his other wraps around and yanks you by the front of your collar, tearing your shirt all the way down to the middle of your chest as he tugs. You’re pulled into his chest with a hard thud before you both go down with the momentum of it all, his body landing on top of yours on the hard, frozen earth.

“God damn it, girl, what the hell you think you’re doin’, huh?” Joel huffs out, arms pinning you down by the wrists as he breathes heavily right in your face. You grunt and struggle, squirming against the ground, but it only serves to help Joel push you into the frosty dirt even harder, his own grunts slipping out of his lips.

“Like it when you struggle…” he says closer to your ear, leaning down. His lips turn into a chilling leer as he bares his teeth down at you. “But too bad we can't play a little longer, you’ll freeze out here. Get up,” he demands, pulling back and then fluidly plucking your body up off the ground as he stands. He hooks one of his arms through yours and begins drags you, your feet scrambling to keep up with how quickly he’s moving.

You’d barely gotten far, just like he said you would - it’s only a short distance back to the cabin where he slams you against the wall, clutching one hand around your throat, not hard enough to put much pressure, just to show you he could, if he really wanted to. His body crowds closer as your back presses against the hard, unrelenting wooden logs adorning the outer frame of the cabin. The chill of the air settles in and you shiver, feet throbbing and chest prickling with goosebumps from the frozen air entering your lungs in large heaves.

“Told ya, girl. You don’t need to go anywhere. All y’need is right here. I can do anythin’ I want with ya, can’t I?” He spits his words out angrily, eyes blazing. His head is cocked, looking down on you with scornful, yet hopeful eyes. His gaze travels to your chest, the way your shirt is torn to almost reveal everything there, eyes flickering hotly on the sight. Both of you stand with huffing breaths, chests heaving and letting out little cloudy puffs of air as your exhales hit the air.

You nod, whimpering as his grip gets slightly tighter around your throat when you don’t answer right away. Your entire body trembles against him, afraid you’ll collapse any second as your knees buckle. His entire frame is pressed against you, keeping you upright, the warmth of him the only thing keeping you grounded and afloat right now.

“Thas’ right, it’s just me ‘n you out here. I’ll take real good care of ya, never let anyone hurt ya again. Ever.” A hand snakes around to your hair, smoothing it as he pulls your head off the wall, tracing his palm down as he pets you. “Now c’mon.” He yanks your entire body by the waist, holding you close as he hauls you back inside, pulling the door shut behind you two and locking it.

Joel brings you to his original destination before you’d run - the couch - and sits back, pulling you down with him, maneuvering you to settle on his lap so that you’re straddling him. His hands wrap around your back in a possessive, tight hold. You squirm a little bit, the feeling of him enveloping you like this making you hot, a sheen of sweat breaking out over your entire body.

“S-stop…” you mumble as you continue to struggle, his hands only seeming to get stronger the more effort you put in. You start to shove and push at his chest and one of his arms comes from around your back to catch your wrists in one fell swoop, pinning them against his chest.

“Better knock that shit off quick,” he commands, grunting as he continues to hold your squirming body. “You got me offerin’ you everything I know you want, and all I ask is you do what I want, sweet girl. Be here w’me.” His tone is somehow cruel and hard but soft and caring at once, like he really believes that he needs to act this way to care for you right now.

“N-no, you’re hurting me,” you cry out. “You said you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me…” You think that maybe your reasoning will have any kind of effect on him, and he only smiles softly. It disarms you a little, your struggle starting to die out as you look at the hidden anger behind the smile, the desire to let out the hidden beast within him.

“Let’s get one thing clear,” he says, letting go of your wrists to grip your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, squishing them together. Your hands fall limply to your sides, skin burning on your cheeks where he’s pressing in harder. “Only I can make you feel pain. Nobody else. Nobody’s gonna hurt you when I’m around. And I’m the only one who can make y’feel good too, understand? But if you’re not gonna be a good girl ‘n pull this shit, I can’t help what I’ve gotta do to get you back to bein’ good, hm?” His eyes track across your face, awaiting a response.

You shake your head in small movements, squeezing your eyes shut and squirming one final time to try to slide off his lap. He sees your desperate eyes and his blood rushes a little hotter through him, tugging you harshly to situate you back perfectly centered on his lap.

“Please…” you whimper quietly, unsure of what you’re asking for now. To be let go? To be held tighter? For someone to just make it all okay?

Joel drops your cheeks from his tight grip and looks at you a little more sympathetically. “Okay, okay, c’mon, no more strugglin’ sweet girl. I’ve got you. Not gonna hurt ya. I just wanna help ya.”

He leans forward and his lips find your neck, peppering wet, urgent kisses from just underneath your chin all the way down to your collarbone. It’s all too much, the emotions bubbling up as the adrenaline leaves your body. You shake a little, feeling the now all too familiar sting of tears behind your eyes that quickly manifest as tears that roll down your cheeks. Joel must sense a heave in your chest as you try to hold back your sob because he pulls his lips off of you and looks up to see your eyes shining as tears start to fall at a more rapid pace.

“Shh, shh,” he coos. Both of his arms wrap around your back and pull you in so that your chest is flush with his. Your head drops instinctively to his body and you find yourself wrapping your arms tightly around his neck before burying your face in his chest.

“Oh, c’mere, sweetheart. Let it all out… shh…” Joel says quietly, his palms splayed along your back, rubbing up and down in a soothing pattern. You finally break completely, finally let yourself sob. Your entire body is wracked with shaking heaves of breath each time you start another wave of tears. You bury yourself deeper into Joel’s chest, your face burning red hot with embarrassment, but unable to stop nonetheless. He’s warm and soft against you, the comforting fabric of his shirt soaking up the tears you pour out.

Joel continues his soothing ministrations, his hands uncharacteristically kind and sweet, holding the back of your head against him now, like he’s encouraging this, even, this release of emotion from you. It makes you sob even harder to realize the only person you have in this world to comfort you is a man you met yesterday, one who hasn’t shown you a consistent side to himself since then. You don’t know how long you cry for, the last two weeks of pure desperation and the flood of emotions since meeting Joel have all collided into this one meltdown, Joel’s chest taking the brunt of it as you continue sobbing.

“Oh, that’s it, there we go…” he hums calmly, his chin resting on the top of your head as he keeps stroking along your back. You finally start to let up, choking back little sobs as they climb their way up your throat.

“Jus’ breathe… there ya go, honey. Take some deep breaths for me now, okay?” Joel says calmly, continuing to chant little encouragements in your ear. You turn your face to lay the side of your cheek along Joel’s chest for a moment, a few remaining hiccups shaking your body as you sniffle. Your entire face feels puffy, like everything is two sizes too big for you now, cheeks wet and sticky as your tears start to dry. You slowly lift your head up and Joel quickly catches your face between his hands, thumbs going to work wiping your tears.

“Beautiful…” he murmurs as his eyes scan your flushed, glowing face. His lips turn into a gentle, small smile while he continues to wipe down your cheeks for a moment longer. “Now don’t that feel better?” Joel looks at you with concern now, his head tilting as his fingers continue to stroke along your face. You look so broken and fragile right now - the thought exciting him, sending a twitch beneath his jeans that he doesn't even have the mind to be ashamed of. You're close... so close to being his.

“I g-guess…” you murmur, unable to say if it really does feel much better. You feel lighter now, unburdened of the pent up emotions that had been weighing you down the last few weeks, but you still had to grapple with the fact that you were here now, with a dangerous man who seemed intent on keeping you here no matter what.

“Listen, darlin’...” Joel starts, a heavy sigh escaping him. “You’re too sweet for this world, you deserve to be protected… That’s all I’m tryin’ to say here, to do here. You wanna know what I thought when I first saw ya?”

Your eyes widen in curiosity, letting him go on.

“Thought that the universe sent me a gift. One look at ya and I knew you had to be all mine. Like y’were made for me, I swear it…” he gushes before his eyes go more serious. “I can show you how good it all feels, sweetheart, d’you understand?”

You shake your head slowly. “S-show me how good what feels?” you ask tentatively.

Joel leans forward, his lips brushing along your jawline then ghosting to that sensitive spot under your ear. His breath tickles you in just the right way and you shudder, hating that he seems to have pinpointed your weakness.

“Show you… just how good it feels… to submit to me.” His lips press onto your neck gently, his tongue poking out to taste the salt of your skin. “Show you what your place is here.” He sucks a little harder on your neck, eliciting a tiny sound from the back of your throat. “I’ll give you everything, you’ll see. I can see you want it, sweet girl. I can see how badly you need it.” His hips thrust upwards into yours on his last words, grinding against you slightly. Your eyes flutter shut when his lips kiss your neck again, rough but gentle, as Joel always seems to be. You squirm, your body and mind still mixing signals with each other, unsure if you’re fleeing or giving in.

You consider his words heavily, the weight of them pressing down on your chest, nearly choking you. It makes your entire body tingle, the way he’d said the word submit, not even fully understanding all of what that would entail. But he’s right, you do need someone, you need something in your life that won’t fail you or run or disappear. You’re desperate for it at this point, needing it like you need air and water. You’ve seen nothing but loss and sadness and lived with a desperation to just be loved and cared for in the deepest ways.

Maybe it was fate, like he said. Maybe you were meant to stumble into that clearing just at the right time, just when you so fiercely needed everything he’s offering to you.

He pulls back and stares into your eyes, trying to read the look behind them, trying to gauge how you’ll respond as you sit silently. You feel tears building on the rims of your eyes again, quickly wiping them away before they can fall.

“Let me show you, hm? How I’ll take care of you.” He thumbs your chin as he stares at you, a look of wonder in his eyes. “We need to get some more food in you, darlin’. Barely ate a thing yesterday.” His bargains immediately begin to work as you notice your stomach rumbling and empty again as if on cue. You nod slightly and he gives you a half smile.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos. “Now hold on tight.” Before you can question him further on why, he’s lifting you up off the couch, and your arms scramble to fling around his neck so you don’t fall backwards. Your legs wrap around his middle for extra support as he carries you to the kitchen table, settling you down on top of it now, legs dangling off the side as he lets go of his grip under your thighs. You find yourself reluctant to untangle your arms and legs from his warm, safe body, but he begins to pull away, heading for the fridge. You watch him with a frown as he bends down, shuffling a bit in the fridge before pulling out an item wrapped in a thin cloth. He opens a breadbox on the counter and reaches in, tearing off a chunk of bread before plating it and unwrapping the block, revealing some type of cheese.

“Sheeps cheese from Jackson. And some bread I made. Should tide y’over till dinner time, don’t you think?” he asks, bringing the plate over. He nudges your legs apart with his knee, a silent command that you follow mindlessly before he steps in between your thighs. One hand brushes along your thigh as he gets closer to you, eyes pasted right onto yours. His near glare is nearly too much to keep focused on as he grabs the piece of bread and brings it up to your lips. You pause, gaze faltering as you scan his face, a little stunned.

“Y’need some food, darlin’. Now eat.” Another command, another test to see how pliant you are, how willing you are to accept the entire package he offered you. You crane your neck forward enough to bite down on the piece, tearing some off as he holds it for you, never breaking eye contact with him. His eyes quickly flash back to a satisfied, pleasant look from the darkness that had threatened them moments ago.

“Good girl.” The words burrow in a little more, your thighs tightening against his, sending Joel gazing down with a smirk pulling at his lips. “Another,” he says quietly, holding the bread up to your lips again. You don’t falter this time, taking a quick bite and chewing as Joel smiles down at you, letting his thumb brush across your lips.

“You’re bein’ so good f’me now, what happened?” he says smugly, picking up the cheese and feeding you again. Each time he does it, you take the food more eagerly, Joel stepping closer until he’s pressed against the table, his hips as close as they can be to the apex of your thighs. You can sense the excitement radiating off of him now, the pure satisfaction that you’re not putting up a fight, accepting the care he’s pouring out onto you.

“Now you see how I can take care of you, darlin’? That’s just a small thing, honey, makin’ sure you get fed. Now tell me how much you appreciate it, hm?”

You feel your cheeks warming up at the blatant coaxing from Joel, the way the heat of his body presses so close to you now as his finger lingers on your lip after the last scrap of bread goes in.

“T-thank you, Joel,” you say, quiet and mousy as you avert your eyes downward.

“Oh, such a good girl.” He pets the top of your head down the side, stroking a gentle, long path down to your shoulder. “Feel better now that we got you full?”

You nod, swallowing hard. “Y-yes, thank you.” Mousy. Quiet. The way Joel seems to like, the way that you can’t help but be when he questions you like this, when his eyes search your depths so intensely. Your heart clenches at just how quickly he’s already worked his way in, has you saying just what you know he wants to hear.

“Not bad for an old man baking bread, huh?” he asks, winking as he caresses your cheek. You tilt your head down, failing to conceal your little smile in time as a breathy chuckle makes its way out of you. You can sense the lightness fill Joel and the entire room as he notices, cocking his head and leaning closer to you.

“That a smile I see, darlin’? You think it’s funny to call me an old man?”

You shake your head, pulling your lips tight to suppress your smile. “N-no, you’re n-not…”

“Oh, too sweet, ain’t you.” He wraps his arms around your middle, drawing you close again. “Y’know, you’re so pretty when you smile. This old man’d like to see more of that, y’know.”

Your smile falls quickly as discomfort settles in again at the way he’d cracked through your façade just now. “Why haven’t you just… hurt me yet? Or done what you want with me and tossed me out?” you ask suddenly, blurting the words out before you can think twice about the possible consequences.

Joel clicks his tongue and lets his lips part slightly, showing his surprise - a rare moment from such a guarded man.

“That what you think this is?” he asks quietly, forebodingly. The pure control in his voice is a skill that you can tell he’s exercised many times. “Just want to squeeze the life outta you and toss your body out for the damn animals? Or fuck you senseless then turn you to the cold? You really think that little of me after I fed you, clothed you, helped you?”

He doesn’t sound quite angry, but something deeper that takes a minute for you to register - you’ve hurt him. Wounded his ego, made a dent in this brick wall of a man. A power you suddenly wish you didn't have over him.

“I don’t… I don’t know…” you admit. “You scare me.”

He leans forward, his dark irises going icy as he captures your rapt attention with this one single glance.

“I should,” he spits out with a twitch of his lip. “But only if you give yourself reason to, yeah? I never want to hurt you, sweetness, never.” He goes softer, brushing a finger along your cheek, sending you trembling with a quivering lip. “Jus’ want you to be here w’me, lettin’ me take good care of you, and you do the same f’me. Somethin’ so beautiful here, you ‘n I…”

You sigh heavily, your body slumping in defeat. You’re exhausted, your nerves frayed and mind overstimulated from all of the inconsistencies, the back and forth with him. If what he says is true, if he wants to treat you kindly, give you all he’s promised, you know what he expects in response. You can feel it in the undertone of every word he says, every tiny movement when he touches you. He wants you to belong to him, to have you sucked so completely into his world there’s no going back. To have you fear him and look in wonder at him and worship at his feet and let him touch you and feel you and be completely yours and you be completely his. Your head spins, a dizzy sickness overtaking you at how utterly lost you feel right now. How badly you crave it and are equally repulsed by it.

You dip your head down, eyes on your lap as you let the wave of churning fear wash over you.

“Eyes up, darlin’,” Joel reminds you, fingers tracing on your thigh to get your attention.

“I… believe you,” you say, turning your gaze to him again. It’s not an answer yet, not a yes or no or anything at all. A fact.

“I know you do,” he says, a serious expression curling into a smile. “Only say what I mean. Are we clear, then?”

Joel’s face inches closer to yours, leaving just a few inches between you, now. “Y-yes,” you mutter, rapidly scanning over his eyes to try to read anything there but the inky darkness that seems to permeate above all else.

“Good,” he says proudly. “Now gimme a smile, darlin’. Need to see you lookin’ happier ‘round here.”

You pull your lips into a tight smile that seems to suffice for Joel as he carries on, moving until his lips hover just above yours. You notice yourself starting to tremble a little bit, shoulders tightening up, and Joel holds you close as his brows come together.

“You ever kiss a man like me, darlin’?” he whispers, licking his lips.

Your lips part, words failing you for a moment as you contemplate him. Your throat is suddenly dry and itchy as you glance down at Joel’s lips. “N-no…” You shake your head. “I haven’t… haven’t been with… anyone…”

Joel stills completely for what feels like minutes, his lips twisted to the side in a wry smile now. “You sayin’ you’re a virgin?” he asks bluntly, his hands naturally tightening their grip on your back, fingers digging in as they slide a little lower towards your waist.

Your face burns first, then your entire body is set aflame as embarrassment sets in. You know you shouldn’t be embarrassed, but you can sense Joel’s experience, almost having some strange need to impress him with your own, coming up empty. Your eyes look down, staring at the middle of his shirt before you nod once, blinking away a quick sting of tears at your sudden humiliation.

“Christ,” Joel bites back all the things he wants to say for a moment and tuts as he notices your glassy eyes, scraping his fingers along your back. He tightens his hold on your waist and tugs you even closer so that your hips are flush with his. He moves his lips right next to your ear, making you shudder as they brush close enough to touch for a moment. “Had a feelin’. You have no idea… how turned on that makes me, sweet girl.”

Joel’s crude words have you gasping a little, a breath caught in your throat as you stutter out a sound to try to answer him. His lips press on your neck again, kissing a little more fervently down to your collarbone and then he pulls back, one hand going to your face to cup your cheek.

“Such an innocent little thing… so sweet…” he murmurs. “‘S okay to touch me, y’know.” Your hands tingle with anticipation as he says that, but you don’t know how to move them, where to move them to, or if you want to touch him.

“I - I don’t…” You shake your head, and Joel captures one of your hands in his, holding it gently and rubbing his fingers along yours.

“I got ya, I’ll show y’everythin’ you need to know, how’s that sound?” he says, gazing down at you intently, waiting with baited breath to hear your response.

“You mean…” you ask, cheeks flushing as you’re unable to finish your sentence. Joel places your hand on his chest, spreading your fingers out to splay across the space between his pecs. He nods softly and you wiggle your fingers a little, feeling the planes of his chest, hard but warm underneath your palm. He glances down to where your hand explores a little more, running your fingers gently over to the right side of his pecs, then the left, and smirks.

“I mean all of it, you sweet little thing. You don’t know how good y’could feel, do you?” Joel breathes a little heavier, his expression losing a bit of its controlled façade, that vague look of craving revealing itself in his eyes again. “I could give you so much… oh, you pretty thing, you need it.” He shakes his head in disbelief of everything he’s learned about you. “Untouched… so innocent…” he says more quietly, his hands finding their way back to your waist, thumbs hooking under the waistband at the back of your pants.

“I’m n-not sure… I-I don’t know -” you stutter as you feel his thumbs touch bare skin before one of his hands trails under your shirt, moving upwards. Your eyes blink a little slower, a flutter of your lashes as his calloused pads scrape along your skin, leaving a blazing trail that tingles all the way to the base of your spine. It pools quickly there, your core starting to heat up as his hand travels higher, the other playing at the hem of your shirt, starting to lift it. Your breath hitches, eyes going wider as your shirt moves, but you don’t squirm, don’t try to stop him.

“Y’do know. I can see you want it, sweetheart, look at how you respond to me…” He breathes in and out a little shakily. “Respond to a man takin’ good care of you…”

“W-what are you doing?” you ask, feeling your back almost halfway exposed to the air.

“Think you know what I’m doin,” Joel huffs a stony hearted chuckle. “Just wanna see how pretty y’are, take a peek, thas’ all.”

You shrink back a little, eyebrows pulled close together, shaking your head in small movements. “I’m scared…” you whimper finally, showing Joel the fear that’s been building deep inside of you. You don’t know how to want this, when to know your body is telling you it’s okay. You’ve somehow lost complete trust in any of your instincts, unsure of where along the way that happened.

“I know, I know,” he purrs, still pulling your shirt higher. His lips dart down to your stomach, where your bare skin is starting to show, kissing sloppily along all the fresh skin he hasn’t seen yet. He starts speaking against your body, kissing in between his words. “Nothin’ to be scared of when you got me though, y’understand? You let me take care of you, and you’ll never worry a day in your life. Be my good girl, my everything. Just gotta trust me.” His nails dig into your back, a sweet, welcome pain, bringing you to the present. It’s too easy to lose yourself to his lips, his touch, his words. Your hand stays steadily placed on his chest, barely daring to move now.

You stare with your mouth open, and at your silence Joel drags his mouth up your chest and to your neck before looking at you expectantly.

“I don’t… know…” you murmur, less convincingly than the other times, an observation that Joel doesn’t fail to notice. He gathers the fabric of your shirt and tugs on the front hem of your shirt, pulling it taut along your back, drawing you closer to him as his lips sit merely an inch from yours.

“Think y’do know,” he says, greedy hands under the front of your shirt now, pulling the hem up. “I’ll be so gentle, honey…” He pulls your shirt up further and you drop your hand from his chest, allowing him the freedom of movement he needs to finish the job.

“Okay…” you whisper, unsure if the two syllables even resonate far enough to reach Joel’s ears. You start to feel your legs trembling as you see his face registering your one word, the only thing he’d needed to hear.

“Good girl,” he breathes out, exuding pure elation. “Oh, I’m gonna make you so happy, darlin’, gonna give y’everythin’.” He practically snarls as his hands get back to work on your shirt, lifting each of your arms to tug them through the sleeves, then tossing your shirt aside after it's over your head.

A growl tumbles out of his throat when he takes in your breasts, and you hunch your shoulders up a little more, your arm flying up to cover your chest now that it's exposed. Joel’s hand grabs your wrist, strongly wrapped around it as he tugs it away.

“Don’t have to hide ‘em from me, nothin’ to hide from me now,” he snaps, tossing your arm back to your side. His hands reach up to tease at the swell of your breasts, and you sit half in shock, letting his fingers send tingles across your skin as he explores your chest. He runs errant fingers down along the curves as he stares downwards. Your breath catches when he rubs his thumbs over your pebbled nipples, you back arching towards him as you gasp.

“So soft ‘n pretty…” He grins, continuing to watch the way his hands work along your skin, a little more rough as he gropes your tits, rolling your nipples just to observe your reaction. The little pinch sends waves of arousal through your body, pooling deep inside of you, making you feel your underwear get damp again. You’re already panting, the sensations he’s bringing out in you so strong that you can hardly contain the little noises slipping out of you as he continues touching your chest.

“I - I’m…” you pant. “Joel…”

He pauses for just a moment, leaning closer and brushing his lips across your cheek. “Know you’re feelin’ good, aren’t ya?”

You nod dumbly, completely awestruck as he pinches your nipples again, sending your back arching and hips pressing into his. It’s maddening and confusing all in one, the way he’s able to work your body like this and make you feel a hot burning starting to blaze across your skin.

“Pretty girl never had her tits touched, has she?”

You shake your head urgently, a breathy moan pulled out of your throat as he pinches and tugs a little harder on the hard buds. “P-please… stop… it’s too…” you whine, scrunching your face, unsure if you actually want him to stop. You feel wild, feral almost, the strangest sensation pulling at your insides as he tugs one more time.

Joel smirks in satisfaction, going back to caressing you more lightly, giving you some relief. One hand travels down to rest on your hip, the other up to your face to cradle your cheek in his palm.

“You’re fun to play with, jus’ like I thought you’d be…” Joel muses as he touches your face. “You’re bein’ so good f’me, too, honey. Lettin’ me see you ‘n touch you.” He looks at you almost curiously now, like he’s studying you.

“Think you deserve a little reward for bein’ so good for me, finally seein’ some sense.” He pauses, watching your face morph into a soft, intrigued look. “How’s that sound, hm?” he asks, pinching your cheek.

You tilt your head at him. “A reward? Wh-“

“Exactly. If you act like a good girl, gotta reward ya for it.” Your heart beats a little faster as you take in his words, your thighs clamped as his voice comes out low and teasing. “C’mere, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his fingers around your cheek and pulling you closer as he leans in. “You deserve to feel good, do you realize that? You’ve been denyin’ yourself somethin’ so good, but turns out it was so that I could show ya.”

“I - Joel - I don’t know…” you blurt out, your stomach twisting. The fact you can barely say anything but those same three words over and over is starting to frustrate you.

“Don’t go gettin’ shy on me now,” Joel replies, his hand now cradling the back of your head. “You’ll enjoy this.”

He leans forward again, completely closing the gap between the two of you as he presses his lips to yours. It’s soft at first, testing you, and you blink once in surprise, not able to force yourself to press your lips back into his at first. But your body naturally starts to melt into him a little, his hand stroking against the back of your head calming you into submission. Your hands twitch forward, gently touching the bottom hem of his shirt and holding onto it just slightly. The feel of the fabric grounds you as you feel your lips press back into Joel’s, sending a wave of heat over your body. Your cheeks burn and your skin prickles as he groans quietly and pushes his lips a little more aggressively against yours before pulling back slightly.

He looks down at you with a smirk. His hand digs into your waist a little harder, the possession he’s feeling clearly evident.

“Tastes sweet, darlin’,” he says quietly before leaning back in, kissing you again. Your hand tugs a little harder on the bottom of his shirt and you feel yourself cracking under the pressure, like you’re about to burst into a million little parts like a piece of dropped china.

His mouth opens and invites you to do the same, so you follow his lead. You’re frustrated, unsure of yourself, not understanding the way your body just moves with his, mirroring his motions.

Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. Maybe your first kiss is supposed to feel just like this. Maybe you’re supposed to be afraid and unsure and terrified yet intrigued in a way you can’t ignore. You wouldn’t know any different, after all, and your body already yearns for Joel to keep going, to press his lips harder onto yours, to feel his warm, soft lips all over you. You don’t even quite understand where the thoughts come from, it’s like your body is telling you without your mind having to get involved.

You open your mouth the tiniest bit, allowing Joel to kiss you deeper. He pulls back just enough to suck a little on your bottom lip and you whimper and your brows scrunch. How… how could it feel so good?

As if to send you asking that question a hundred more times, one of his hands skates his fingers up your spine and you shudder, falling apart just as his tongue swipes across your bottom lip. You nearly gasp but find your own tongue hesitantly brushing against his. He hums quietly in satisfaction, continuing the motions of his tongue with small variations - darting into your mouth, licking your lip.

You feel your entire being aching and warm now with the way Joel is pressed as close as he can, hips flush with yours. You want to move your own hips, to push them further and further, your body urging you on again without telling you quite what it’s doing.

You yank your head back, completely breathless. Joel’s hand scrambles to the back of your head, holding it in place as he devours your lips again, not letting up just yet.

“Wasn’t done w’you yet…” he mumbles before kissing you again, his tongue and lips more aggressive now as his hand slides to the back of your neck, gripping tightly. When he’s had his fill he tucks his head back enough to get a read on your expression, smirking. He sees the wonder in your eyes, the confusion, the struggle, but he welcomes it all, now. He knows he has you - his prize, his to keep, his to take. He can practically feel the ache of want oozing out of your pores now as you sit trembling slightly on the table, your soul and tits bared to him, equally enticing. A perfect paradox, he thinks.

You look so perfect - like a pure, innocent angel sent just for him. He knows you can be exactly what he’s looking for - someone to call his own, to protect and guide and keep close to him. His perfect girl.

He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent and musk like it’s the last time he’ll ever get a chance to before his lips rumble against you.

“Lemme take you upstairs, show you how to be mine," he offers, in a way that's not an offer at all, but an instruction, a test.

He’s quiet and seductive with his words, a low, gravelly lilt to his voice that makes your head swim. You’re hazy, a practically drunk feeling coming over you now. You’d tried alcohol once, and you remember feeling a bit like this - cloudy and out of control of your own body.

Before you can stop yourself, body buzzing and lips puffy and parted in need, you nod for him.

reminder i have no taglist now! follow @beardedjoel-updates and turn on notifs!

#fic: smother #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #dark!joel miller #dark!joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #x reader #tw: blood #<<< for the cover photo

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firegirl888101 · 7 months

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how would the harbingers react to a reader who's good at drawing? like, they like to draw the harbingers or other things

Good at drawing?

I'm shit at drawing so I'm not really sure what to say, that's why I didn't reply to this for awhile. But, I eventually got a couple things when my friend was sketching some stuff in front of me.

Sorry that the current Insatiable Madness chapter is taking so long, I've been studying a lot these past couple of days.

I also got another ask where it asked about Halloween. I don't really celebrate Halloween, because I never grew up with it. I've always been too shy to trick-or-treat and I didn't have many friends (and still don't) who'd want to go with me. Quite sad actually, but it's alright. I don't think I missed out on much.

Is anyone expecting me to make a Halloween special? I don't mind doing it, but I'll need inspiration as I wouldn't know where to start 💀

Actually, the more I think about it, I do have one fun idea. (Harbingers going trick-or-treating??? Halloween party if that even exists? Idk, I'll have to do some research.)

|You can take this with Yandere and without - some will probably lean towards yan though.|

So, to begin with:

Pierro wouldn't be too bothered. I feel if Y/N had a skill they were confident in, and wanted to show it, he'd let his curiousity get the better of him and check it out. But, if it's something like drawing he'll probably leave a comment then leave. Whether it's positive or negative, you be the judge. This man is like a slate slab. No personality I'm sorry 😭😭 (When I see more of his character, maybe I'll like him more?)

If you were to draw this man, he'd be humbled. A Grandpa who received his very first present from his grandchild. Would definitely frame the damn thing in his office (which originally was your parent's) he'd put it on the desk. It's his office now, don't argue for it back.

Capitano would show interest. Not too much since he's the main captain of the Fatui, but still interested. If he's bored, or deems the 'fort' (the house) safe, he'll sit down with you and watch what you're doing. Occasionally asking you if he could doodle with you - but I think that would be very rare. His main objective in his mind is guarding you when your own is low whilst you're having fun, doodling or drawing something.

Would 100% deny the picture of him at first. He'd think, that looks like me, but it can't be. Yes, it's him, you'd reassure. Eventually he does take it and folds it in his coat. After that, he'd probably leave the room in embarrassment. Since then on, he'd definitely keep all drawings you've made of him in his pocket. There's too many? Let's put it in the second pocket. That's full too? Looks like he's buying a new coat. Oh? There's room in his military coat he hasn't worn in two years? That'll do just nicely.

Dottore would be intrigued if he saw you practice anatomy - or if you drew more of a gorey scene. I think he'd be even more interested if you liked to draw the human body with extra things (such as arms, legs, eyes or even got rid of a few), and question you on your design choices and if it already exists somewhere. (He's not fooling you, he's obviously taking inspirations for a new experiment). If he didn't know, or wasn't good, he'd probably ask for tips on how to sketch ideas like yours. He reassures you it's not for any experimentation but once again, he's not fooling you at all.

If you were to draw him he'd treat it like glass. Nobody has ever given him a sketch before - bonus points if you draw him injured whilst you're angry with him. He'd treat it as if you drew him with love, and not as if you'd stab him in the heart if you ever got the chance. What do you mean he shouldn't like it this much? It's a work of art! He'd be very quick to correct the drawing if you got anything wrong. Who knows what this man has in his body at this point.

Columbina would join you in your drawing activities. Maybe add some glitter if you have any. The second you complain about cleaning up, however, she has somehow disappeared and has become very forgetful about the events upstairs. 'How curious!~' She would hum to herself with her usual smile. Is definitely the type to ask if you could draw her. Who are you to refuse? Especially when she gives you that look of daunt hope and kindness which makes you drop your pen in fear. Before you can give her an answer, you've already picked up your pencil and began to sketch her beautiful headpiece.

When Columbina receives her multiple sketches, she's overjoyed. Oh, look how you drew this part! How you drew her clothes! She's quick to kiss you on the cheek as a thank you and runs off somewhere. Huh, you feel like you've just been used.

Arlecchino will roll her eyes at first. She's seen many children in the hearth draw for her. Her initial thoughts were vague, she didn't really see much of your hobby. That was until she actually saw what you were drawing. She would stare as you worked, your pencil delicately brushing against the paper you most likely bought the other day. It soon will become a habit to watch you work, becoming a therapeutic source for her. She sometimes questions why you're drawing... certain things, but she wouldn't actually stop your creative mind from working.

Handing Arlecchino the drawing you drew of her would make her blood rise to her cheeks slightly. Sure, she's received a lot of gifts in this sense before. But from you? What an honour! She'll accept it with a soft smile she'd usually show the kids, and pat your head treating you like one. Little do you know she's trying so hard to control her cute agression response by not tearing the paper.

Pulcinella would react very similarly to Pierro. However, he'd have more experience with complimenting and encouraging 'a child' in a hobby they're having fun with. If he saw your skill, he'd probably compliment it whole-heartedly with a chuffed smile. Massaging his mustache like some aristocrat, in the 1940s... Anyway, he'd be very pleased when he watches you draw more and more. He's happy that you're spending your time doing something you like under the tense situation his coworkers (and him, but he doesn't like to admit it) have brought upon you.

I do not see you drawing this man at all. He's a short, dobby, old, looking as man. I don't see him as the type to ask either, at all. He's minding his own business in your house and plans to keep it that way until the situation is resolved.

Scaramouche really doesn't care. We've all got our own likes and dislikes, but he's not bothered about yours. Will most likely purposefully pass by you working on a piece and insult it just to get attention. He'd never actually mean it though - he just never tells you that important fact. As time progresses he'll sneak into your room just to look at more sketches or finished drawings you've done, and assess your progress from each year if you've been practicing for a long time-period.

Now, here's where things get interesting. If you were to draw him and never show it to him, said puppet finding it for himself in one of your drawers, he'd first feel angry. Why wouldn't you show him this? It's of him! ...But then he'd quickly realise it's because of the way he treated you when you were working (oops). If you actually handed it to him and let him keep it, he'd be delighted. You actually drew him? He didn't even have to manipu-- he means 'ask' you to draw him? This is a good step forward to where he wants to be in your heart.

Sandrone would be delighted to know that she's finally found a use for you in her head. She never thought that purposefully walking past you one evening would lead to her shuffling through all the sketches and designs you've done with awe. Where did you get this idea from? How can she recreate it? Would you be happier and more devoted to her if she were to make your dreams true? She digresses. Watching your creative little mind draw your ideas to life inspires her also, and makes her want to recruit you as a special exception to the 'no non-artificial beings' allowed in her workshop. Thinking of all the monstrosities you could design with her help sends pleasurable shivers up her spine.

Drawing her, however? This was rather unprecedented. Out of all the things-- no, people you could have drawn... and you decide on her? And ooh! You even drew her slave she likes to travel around on, how thoughtful, you're already expressing your adoration for her works! Trust me, don't draw her. You'll give her daydreams that will never happen.

Signora, like most of the harbingers, wouldn't care at first. She hates your house and hates your world, why in Teyvat's name would she be interested in what you're doing? That's what she used to think, until her arrogant slick eyes caught sight of what exactly you were drawing. In my opinion, there's only a couple things that would interest Signora. Drawing dresses, if you were interested in fashion designing, would definitely be the main one. Viewing your designs after you finished them would soon become a small hobby for her, and soon, she'd eventually ask you to draw her in one of your designs.

You'd say yes, of course. An excuse to draw a drop-dead gorgeous woman in one of your designs for free? No way you were going to pass this opportunity! For her hard work in modeling, you'd definitely pay back twice and give her a drawing of her in her harbinger uniform too - which I think would flatter her a bit too much.

Pantalone wouldn't care, and would never become interested. He's a very rich and successful banker, not any ordinary man. As soon as he sees you drawing somewhere in the house, he'll shrug and go the opposite way. He knows what it's like to be interrupted through a thoughtful process, and he doesn't feel like getting an earful from you if he interrupts it. What he does think about, however, is if you're making money from it. Maybe an online business. He asks, and receives a very disappointing answer. No? What do you mean no? These are good, he'd pay for a portrait! Well, if Mora was a usable currency here. Ugh, the thought of being a poor man in this world makes him disgusted.

Drawing him would result in lots of praise. He'd be very happy you used your own time to draw him. He didn't even have to pay for it, it was gift! You even said so yourself. Immediately taken from your hands and framed somewhere. You can't seem to find the drawing though... Pantalone insists it's still in the house, but no matter where you look you just can't find it! Oh well, it's probably better you didn't know where it went. (You would have never been able to find it, he hid the location so well after all.) Pantalone told you he'd give something back to you as a thank you, but you're not holding him to his word.

Tartaglia would be interested the second he sees you doing something he hasn't seen you do before. That looks interesting, let him give drawing a try! He'd boast how his siblings love his drawings he creates, but you knew he was lying to set a cheery mood. Your understanding was backed when you actually saw his 'Amazing Drawing'... It was embarrassing to say the least. He would heed all your little tips and eventually get good at drawing from your guidance! I can see him as the type to use these skills later for his siblings, and as the type to continue drawing even if you begin to get bored of it... He's skilled with his fingers after all-- okay I'm sorry I'm done.

Drawing him can go one in two ways. I see him as someone who will whine about being drawn. He'll say: 'Have you drawn me yet?' in one of the most annoying voices he cna muster. He knows and understands you find it annoying when he asks you to draw him, so he's found a loophole. Just keep asking questions related to it until you get the hint! ...You got the hint weeks ago, but you're refusing to do it. Well, you're refusing to show him your drawings you've already finished and hid out of sight. Showing him these drawings would make him really happy! Would fold his favourite and carry it around with him everywhere like some of the other harbingers. His next commission he's planned to ask you is of a drawing of Capitano. You eagerly declined, not wishing to impose on the Captain's privacy.

#genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #fatui harbingers #yandere harbingers #genshin #pierro #capitano #il dottore #columbina #arlecchino #pulcinella #scaramouche #sandrone #la signora #pantalone #tartaglia #childe #fatui #genshin fatui

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tonyspank · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER ONE | THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY

Warnings; Uhhhh idk?

A/N: I never had to actually make coffee at my job, I kinda jus put the filter then dump out the coffee bag so… my apologies if it sounds crazy. (For all my professional coffee makers.)

Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

"I have a medium lavender ice latte with oat milk for, Ana?" You call out to half full coffee shop. A blonde in about her twenties walks up to the counter, you smile before handing her her drink.

"Have a wonderful day," She grins, "Thank you so much, you too!" Your co-worker speaks up from behind you, "I still don't understand why you're not somewhere strumming your guitar."

You've been working at Hughes Coffee since you can remember, you just happened to be walking by the place and noticed the Now Hiring signs on the door, of course, you had to go through an interview process but you landed the job and became close with the owner and his daughter.

Once she had officially turned eighteen he changed the shop name in honour of her, and she absolutely loved it.

You playfully roll your eyes before turning around to fully face her, "Alora," You begin causing her to hum in response. "I literally have to stay here to keep you in check. Ever since Mr. Hughes changed the name to Alora's Coffee you've been acting a little bit stuck up." You joke, illustrating how much with your thumb and pointer finger.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," She points behind you, "Take care of that customer. I have to use the bathroom," You jump up in the straightest position ever, saluting to her. "Yes! General!"

She laughs, walking to the back. Turning around you're met with a familiar face, "Jack."

He smiles raising his arms, "Bestie!" You chuckle, smiling at your indeed best friend. "Hey, Jack. What's up?"

He smiles, shrugging his shoulders. "Oh, nothing. Just checking in on you—" Suddenly he slams his hands on the counter, you jump and eye the shop as some customers as staring at the two of you.

"YOU REALLY THOUGHT YOU WOULD GET AWAY WITH LEAVING WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE?" He practically yells, leaning into your face. You bite down on your lip, furrowing your eyebrows as you try and hold in your laugh.

"Uh? I thought I gave my goodbyes to my best messenger, did you not receive it?" Jack leans back, hands still on the counter. "Oh! You mean Jenna?" You nod your head, waving your pointer finger at him. "Yes, yes! Jenna, yup."

"And the same Jenna that couldn't stop talking about you." Your ears perk up at this, and your heart drops, but in a good way.

"Really?" You question, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Oh, yeah!" He continues. "She was like, she has the cutest laugh ever. She's so funny where'd you meet her at? Y/N this, Y/N that! Oh, Y/N! Blah, bleh, blah." He mocks with a high-pitched voice.

"Really?" This time you can't hide it, and you're smiling like an absolute idiot. "Really. I was going to give her your Instagram but you know, you left early. So insteadddd," He drags out, and you listen in.

"I told her that you're already dating someone, but don't worry! I didn't be specific and tell her that it was me." You blink, and when Jack doesn't say anything else, you blink again.

"You're lying, right?"

He thins out his lips, shaking his head. "No, why?" You go back to being nonchalant, not wanting Jack to have this over you.

One time you had liked this girl freshman year and Jack would not stop talking about it. And every time he'd see her he'd tell her why won't she go out with you, or how she should give you her number. The girl would always laugh and shrug her shoulders.

Or Jack would come up with these fake stories about how you saved an entire family from a burning building, or how you had found the cure to cancer, the girl surprisingly played along, and would say stuff along the lines of, "Oh, I remember that." Or, "Oh yeah! I was there too."

"No reason," You say shrugging your shoulders, Jack nods staring at you a bit longer to see if he broke your shell of nonchalantness, if that was a thing.

Accepting defeat, but not fully he sighs out. "Welp, I have to go now. I promised Mason I'd stop by his place to try out his new sugar cookie recipe."

You send him a thumbs up, "Alright! Have fun!" You shout out, as he walks out the double glass doors.

You turned around grabbed a rag, and wiped down counters. It was rather late in the morning so it wasn't so busy, well, it wasn't as busy as it was earlier this morning, you were dead-ass sweating.

It comes back to you that Alora never came back out, so you decide to head to the back and go inside the employee break room. You're met with Alora laying across two chairs eating a bag of chips.

"Is this what you do every time you say you're going to the bathroom?" She jumps in surprise, sitting up she removes her left airpod. "Hello, friend." She grins cheekily. You send her a wave.

"Don't you think you should go back to the front?" She starts shooing you off with her hand, you back up, but remain looking at her. "What about you?" She shushes, continuing her shooing motions."

You sigh out, leaning against the counter as you watch the customers in the store talk to their friends or type away on their computers.

You're so into the view you didn't hear the door open nor see the customer walk up towards the counter. Until you hear a ding noise come from the bell sitting on top of the counter.

"Shit," You mutter to yourself, you reach behind you, tying your apron tighter before walking over to the woman. "Fucking Jack," You slightly hear from her and it finally hits you once she takes off her glasses.

"That fucking sneaky bastard." You mumble to yourself.

"Hey, Jenna." You smile, Jenna smiles back placing her glasses in her purse. "Hey," She looks into your eyes, hating to admit she missed them, and so suddenly.

"Now I see why Jack told me to come here." You scratch your head, nodding. "He is a sneaky little bastard." She laughs at your words, "He actually called you the same thing when you left without saying goodbye, well technically you did, but.. I don't know." She catches herself rambling, making you smile.

"Did you want anything to drink?" You ask, drumming your fingers on the countertop. "It's on the house."

"Oh! Sure," Her eyes scan the menu, then you, specifically your name tag. You don't miss the smirk that slightly appears on her lips.

"Surprise me." Just as you're about to respond, Alora walks back out. "Good morning, how are you today?"

Jenna sends her a slight smile, "I'm great, thank you." She gives you one last look before going to sit down. Once it's clear that Jenna is no longer focused on you, Alora grabs your arm, her jaw-dropping. "Was that fucking Wednesday Addams?" You roll your eyes, moving to make Jenna's coffee."

You prepare one shot of Espresso Roast, and as you wait you pull out your phone, opening your messages with Jack.

i hate you

BESTIE

BESTIE DON'T SAY THAT?

i'm not the one who left w/o saying goodbye

I ASKED JENNA TO SAY GOODBYE?

whatever

don't you have to go like

impress her w your barista skills?

you're welcome by the way

goodbye jack

OH NOW U WANNA

SAY GOODBYE

You laugh before putting away your phone. And pouring your Espresso Roast into the mug.

"Her name is Jenna. But yes, she has played Wednesday Addams." Alora watches you, and her smile increases. "You know... I'm very happy that you work here."

You chuckle, preparing your froth milk. Using the Nespresso Aeroccino, you put the milk on the medium froth setting. And add in a bit of vanilla syrup, stirring it in the coffee. "You're only saying that because every now and then Jack will recommend your shop to one of his famous friends,"

She throws her hands up excitedly, "One of his very attractive famous friends!" You lean against the counter waiting for your milk. "Could you watch the counter while I talk to her?" Your voice is lower than usual.

"I fucking got you!" You can't help but laugh, taking your milk and gently pouring it inside the cup until it's almost full. Alora packages up a cookie before softly handing it to you.

"Go get her tiger," Rolling your eye playfully, you make your way toward Jenna, cookie and drink in hand. She sets down her phone and her face lights up seeing you make your way over to her booth.

"A blonde vanilla latte and a chocolate chip cookie for the one and only," You place her order in front of her, sitting down across the table.

She eyes you as she takes a sip, humming in joy. "Wow, this is good." She licks her lips, placing down the cup.

"So... Y/N," She begins. You fight back a smile, looking down at your name tag. "How long have you been addicted to cigarettes."

If you had something in your mouth you definitely would've spit it out. But instead, you're taken aback, "Uh? I don't know? A while,"

She hums, taking another sip of the drink you made her. "Not a lot of people know it but, I actually specialize in helping people with addictions."

You chuckle, "Really?"

"Of course, I'm a professional." You tap your fingers on the table. "So how do your services work exactly?"

"Usually I charge a hefty amount of money, but since we're such good friends. Money is not a problem, instead.." You raise your eyebrows in anticipation.

"Let's make a deal." You nod, telling her to go on. "You let me take you out on seven dates, if I don't manage to at least help you fight your addiction then you don't have to worry about seeing my face ever again. But if I do, then I get to take you out on more."

A huge smile has appeared on your face, "You're going to take me out? To help fight my addiction?" She nods, again sipping on her drink.

"Do we have a deal?" You hold out your hand, and she quickly shakes it.

"It's a deal Ortega," She smirks but doesn't hide it this time.

#reader insert #jenna x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega

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lambtotheslaughterr · 2 months

Text

Rise : Chapter Six

A Rafe Cameron Series

WC: 3.4k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER FIVE | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER SEVEN

note*: user pr300877 you have been removed from taglist because your account keeps getting deactiviated & idk what that's about. contact me to be readded once you have a stable account & are following. thank you.

note*: i tried posting this earlier so if there is a second post, someone please let me know so i can take one down. thank you!

Rafe stomped into the room, dropping a bag onto the table. The barrels of a few guns sticking out, ammo spilling onto the table.

“Is this really necessary?” Millie questioned as the men in the group began loading & double checking the cleanliness of the guns.

Sayyed, surprisingly, tucked a gun into the backside of his pants before loading another one & holding it tight in his hand.

“Would you rather they run up on us first?” Rafe asked in turn.

“Look, I’m all for going over there & checking it out.” Millie began, trying to reason with the boys as they loaded themselves with defense weapons, “But it’s the middle of the night! Use your brains!”

“That’s exactly what we’re doing, babe.” Micah told her, smirking happily as he aimed a gun into the distance, checking the scope of it.

“Alright.” You butt in, “What Mills is trying to say is we haven’t thought this through all the way, right? You guys are panicking, rushing into a gunfight. For all we know it’s a family out there trying to survive just like us.”

“Then it’s better to talk to them & let them know to stay on that side of the lake.” Micah argued.

You groaned in frustration, both you & Millie trading annoyed looks.

“Sayyed.” You placed a hand on the backpack he was ready to swing over his shoulder, “C’mon. You know you don’t have to go out there guns ablaze. It could be nothing.”

Sayyed’s eyes shifted between your own & the others. He eventually took you by the arm, leading you away from the others, “I agree, but…” He sighed, looking at the others over his shoulder as they argued amongst themselves, “For once, I’m in agreement with Rafe. It’s works in our favor if we establish ourselves first.”

“Like alphas?” You rolled your eyes. “Can’t you guys wait till morning?”

“I know that seems better but it’s not. Because for all we know, they could know we’re here too & might be planning on coming over.”

“And what if it is just a family? With kids?” You stared at him wide-eyed.

Sayyed cupped your cheek, “Then we’ll have nothing to worry about. All we’re doing is scoping it out. If necessary, we make ourselves known. If not, we’ll be back before you know it.”

He then went to return to the group, but you stopped him once more, “Look, you’re clearly not going to listen to me, Rafe sure won’t, but just please, please be safe.”

“You know I will.” Sayyed smiled, leaning down to kiss you once.

After he walked away, your eyes met Rafe’s from across the room. His expression was unreadable, but you felt uncomfortable. Shaking it off though, you joined the others at the table.

“Alright, Adrianna, you stay here somewhere outside between the house & them.” Rafe pointed out the door, “If you guys hear gunshots, take the truck.” Rafe put his keys on the table, “Get down the road & wait, we’ll find you.”

“Why do I feel like you’re itching for a fight?” Adrianna admonished.

Rafe only gave her a twinkling smile in return.

Bear, Micah, Rafe, Kai, & Sayyed finished suiting up. They each wore bulletproof vests & carried one to two guns on their person, major thanks to Tobias. It wasn’t until they were about to leave that you looked back & realized all the women we’re waiting in the house.

“I know this is a fucked up place now,” Millie began, sidling up next to you as you two stood by the sliding glass doors, watching the boys disappear in the darkness, “But is it just me or did some old-world misogyny bullshit just happen?”

You chuckled but nodded, “You’re not wrong but let’s be honest.” You gestured to Nuha who sat the table looking fearful, “We’re not nearly as threatening as five men showing up with guns in the middle of the night. Besides,” You pointed out Adrianna who was perched on the deck outside, a binocular in her hands & a strapped to her back, “We have Adrianna, the only one actually trained in gun use, so.”

Millie rolled her eyes but smiled, “True, true.”

Silence fell between you two, the tension growing thick with fear & worry.

“I just have a bad feeling.” Millie said quietly, “I’m worried about Micah.”

“Same here, girlfriend. Knowing Sayyed is out there in the dark with a gun & no rules to this world makes me sick to my stomach.”

Millie knocked her shoulder into yours, “Our boyfriends aren’t exactly intimidating.”

“I don’t know.” You smirked, “Micah sure can be an asshole.”

Millie gasped at that, playfully smacking your arm, “He’d kick your ass if he heard you say that.”

Rafe would murder him if he tried. The intrusive thought surprised you.

“C’mon.” You pulled her away from the door, “There’s nothing we can do. They’ll be back before we know it.”

Millie stared out the doors a moment longer before giving a small smile, her arms crossed over her chest, “I hope you’re right.”

Time seemed to drag on, & without being able to watch Netflix or dreadfully studying for an exam, it really wore you down. Nuha had fallen asleep on the couch, snuggled up in a thick blanket. Millie paced between the kitchen & living room. The more she moved the more your anxiety spiked.

They would be okay, they had to be. You told yourself that over & over again. But after Luka, you too sat in fear that they would return with one less friend. But you couldn’t let yourself think like that. Sayyed said it’d be okay. So it would be okay.

“Mills.” You spoke softly so as not to disturb Nuha. Millie stopped her pacing, looking at you concerned.

“Come sit down, play goldfish with me.” You patted the spot next to you on the loveseat, “I’m bored. We need to distract ourselves.”

Millie exhaled, shaking her head, “Sorry, _____.” She joined you, crisscrossing her legs.

“It’s okay.” You smiled, dealing out the cards between you two.

The two of you got through three rounds before the sliding door got thrusted open. The both of you, Nuha even, were shocked by the sudden entrance. Adrianna raced in. You were about to ask what was wrong when one by one the boys started filing in behind her. But someone was missing…

“Where’s Micah?!” Millie shot forward, heading for the door. Bear through out an arm to stop her.

Your heart lurched as you took in the boys. A few of them had definitely been in a fight, Rafe being the most obvious one. He had a laceration on his cheek, a busted lip that was bleeding, & the knees of his jeans had holes in them.

“What the fuck?” You breathed out, approaching Sayyed who only sported a black eye, not yet swelled. “Where’s Micah?”

“He’s fine.” Bear shared but neither you or Millie was convinced.

“Barely.” Rafe spit, going over to the kitchen sink where a bucket of water sat. He rinsed his face.

“Sayyed.” You said his name firmly, gripping his arm. Was Micah dead? Where was he?!

“They have him.” Sayyed stared hard eyed at the ground, his head shaking.

Rafe slammed a drawer shut, bringing a rag to his face, “I told you to fucking listen to me. But no, you wanted to be diplomatic.”

Sayyed tossed him a heated glare but ignored him. Rafe then turned his eyes on you, “Your boyfriend is a fucking idiot.” He seethed.

“Hey!” You yelled after him, but Sayyed stopped you, “Don’t. He’s right.”

You frowned, feeling your body shake, “What happened?”

“We thought they were harmless.” Bear interjected, but was looking at Micah. “We were gonna talk to them, just pretend we were passing through. Kai & Micah were hiding in the woods as back-up. It was three guys. But—”

“But they saw how loaded we were & wanted our shit!” Rafe hollered from across the kitchen, rage rolling off him in waves.

“I wanted to confront them with guns in their faces.” Rafe spit, “But no, Sayyed wanted to play fucking nice. Now they have Micah & they’re gonna roast him for dinner if we don’t come back before morning with a fuck ton of goods.”

“Jesus Christ.” Adrianna muttered.

Sayyed had his head hung low but raised it when Rafe squeezed between you two to get in his face, “No one made you fucking leader, but you seem to be calling the shots & people keep getting hurt.”

Though Rafe wasn’t far from the truth, you knew Sayyed already felt guilty over Luka, & now Micah was taken. You weren’t going to sit by & let him drag your boyfriend down further. Gripping the back of Rafe’s shirt, you yanked him backwards, “Back off, Rafe!”

Rafe stumbled back, still glaring at Sayyed before he flashed his angry eyes to you, “You know I’m fucking right.”

With that, he exited the kitchen, a door slamming in the distance.

Millie was pacing, “Well let’s fucking go, I don’t care what they want, we need to get Micah.”

“It’s not that simple, Mills.” Sayyed said lowly, tiredly.

“This is your fault!” Millie screeched.

“Millie, please.” You put up a hand, “I know you’re angry & scared, we all are. But we can’t go rushing into it.”

Millie scoffed, angry tears skipping down her cheeks.

“What’re we gonna do, _____? Huh?” Adrianna griped, “We have plenty of shit, we can give stuff to them, make the trade. Easy, done.”

You groaned in frustration, “Guys, I don’t know but if they’re willing to kill Micah for just food then whose to say they’ll stop there? I mean, seriously. We bring them food & weapons, great, then they ask for more. Then they never stop asking, demanding, threatening to kill for it.”

Everyone stared at you, considering your words.

“It’s a new world, new rules.” Adrianna added, “We have to adapt faster than our potential enemies.”

You pointed at Adrianna, what she said.

“So, what’s the plan?” Bear questioned, running a hang through his long locks.

You swallowed a dry lump in your throat, your eyes dancing around the room as everyone appeared to look at you for the answers. You opened your mouth, ready to suggest something deadly, but couldn’t find it in yourself to say it.

“We kill them.” Everyone turned to see Rafe had rejoined the discussion. The dimly lit lamp in the corner highlighted the lethal fire in his eyes. The two of you traded knowing looks. It was obvious that Sayyed wanted to debate the plan, but he said nothing, just pressed his lips tightly together.

You nodded, & no one argued the case.

It was survival of the fittest, you wouldn’t lose another friend.

It was a moonless night, making the woods that much harder to navigate. The four of you stuck together, sparing no more than a foot from the other. It was you, Adrianna, Millie, & Rafe. The plan was a good one.

Rafe would approach the men with bags of goods, he carried a handgun in the waist of his pants but would not draw it unless necessary. Adrianna would hide somewhere among the trees, her rifle perched to kill. You were added to seem less threatening, & Millie insisted on coming along, that no one would be stopping her from saving Micah herself. What the men who held Micah didn’t know is that you & Millie had now had gun training & knew when & how to fire. Rafe confirmed that they didn’t have guns, just hunting knives. In a way, you had the upper hand, but things could always take a turn for the worse. And if things did take a turn for the worse, the men back at the house were ready to defend their lives.

Rafe led the four of you through the trees & Adrianna covered the rear. It wasn’t long before you spotted the fire amongst the trees where the volatile men waited. Rafe stopped everyone in their tracks. He looked back at Adrianna, pointing out a fallen tree trunk a few yards away that had a perfect line of vision to the clearing. She nodded, carefully stepping over to avoid detection. Once she was perfectly positioned, Rafe turned to you & Millie.

“Follow my lead, stay behind me. Remember the plan.” You both nodded in unison.

Rafe grew slowly closer to the campsite, you & Millie right behind him. Just before he entered the clearing, he whistled, announcing his arrival.

Stepping into the clearing behind Rafe, you quickly counted three men. They were older, mid-to-late thirties. Clearly they hadn’t had a shower in weeks. But they smiled lewdly as Rafe appeared with you two in tow.

"What the fuck is she doing here, Rafe?!" Micah yelled when he spotted Millie.

One of the men—the tallest of the three—sat up, a prideful smirk on his face, “We only asked for food & guns, but we’ll accept some pussy. That’s hardest to come by.”

Millie scowled, her eyes flashing to Micah who sat by the fire, the final two men on either side of him.

Rafe chuckled humorlessly, “They aren’t up for grabs.”

“Sure about that?” One of the other men asked, this one with a potbelly.

“Positive I’m the one with a gun. Wanna touch em & find out?”

“Hand over the ones you brought us & it’ll be a quick fight, kiddo.” The tall one replied smugly.

Your eyes fell to Micah then, gesturing for him to move to the side as subtly as possible, but it was difficult when the youngest of the three wouldn’t take his eyes off you, undressing you in his mind.

Rafe dropped two bags to the ground, “One’s food, the other weapons. That’s the trade. We’ll take Micah & you guys leave in the morning.”

“Oh ho ho.” The tall one laughed half-heartedly, “Think you’re the boss, huh?”

“I think I stay true to my word.” Rafe stared unblinkingly, “Like a man. That’s what we are, right? Men?”

The three of them traded contemplating looks, none of which settled your nerves.

“Pat, check the goods.” The youngest of the three stepped away from Micah, unzipping the first bag which had food in it. Then as he moved over to the second bag, you subconsciously felt your fingers ghost over the handle of the gun in the backside of your pants. If these men were as predictable as Rafe believed them to be then the plan would go accordingly.

Pat unzipped the bag filled with guns. There was only five in them. You all didn’t want them to know that there was a major stash back at the house. Pat raised a gun to the tallest, & another to the potbelly behind Micah.

“Good man.” The tallest said, moving the gun between his hands.

“Like I said.” Rafe quipped.

You felt Millie shift behind you, likely prepping her own gun behind her back.

You watched with bated breath as the tallest nodded to potbelly, “Guess a deal’s a deal.”

Then, before anyone could stop him, the tallest pointed his gun at Rafe & pulled the trigger.

The woods became a tense silence.

Rafe smirked, “Not stupid enough to give you loaded guns, dumbass. Adrianna, now!”

The three of you ducked, falling to your knees as a shot rang through the trees. You could hear as the bullet whipped through foliage before impacting. The sound of a body falling met your ears.

Everything happened quickly. The two remaining men scrambled, the potbelly yanking Micah to his front as protection. Pat rushed towards Rafe, prepared to tackle him but Rafe brought the butt of his gun down on his upper back, knocking him down. Then he fired two shots at him as he fell to the ground. Pat didn’t move.

At this point, you & Millie had both drawn your guns, aiming them at the potbelly who then had a knife held to Micah’s throat.

“Fuck you, man.” Micah spit, his eyes meeting Mills, “Shoot, babe, you can do it.”

But it was Rafe who knocked Millie out of the way, pointing his weapon at the shitstain, “Let him go. I’ll waste you like the others.”

“Then do it.” Just as the man pressed the knife into Micah’s skin, Rafe pulled the trigger. The bullet hit potbelly in the shoulder, knocking him backwards from Micah. Micah immediately rushed forward, knocking into you, making you drop your gun.

You stayed close to Rafe once Micah & Millie were in each other’s arm, the gun forgotten. Micah was only nicked, barely a scratch on him. Rafe stepped over potbelly, kicking the knife out of his hand.

“Thought you were a man of your word.” Potbelly said hoarsely, holding his shoulder as he glared up at Rafe.

“I’m a liar, too.” Then Rafe emptied his gun into the man. You forced yourself to turn away when you saw blood spray.

The firing of a gun stopped & all you could hear was muffled voices & the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. A pair of hands grabbed you by the shoulders, the sound of your name growing closer as your breathing stabilized.

“_____.” It was Rafe, pulling you from your dissociative state. “Hey, look at me.”

You did. There was blood on his face. Not a lot, but enough to make him look dangerous in the night, “You’re okay.”

You released a breath you hadn’t realized you’d be holding, allowing air to flood your lungs.

“You did good.” He smiled proudly, running his hands through your hair & down the sides of your face, “We’re okay.”

Over his shoulder, you saw as Micah was holding Millie the same way. She was crying happy tears as she kissed his face. Rafe then brought you into his chest, hugging you, comforting you. Adrianna had yet to appear, but you knew she was waiting for you on the edge of the clearing. Everyone was okay. The plan worked.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here.” Micah roared, but he looked elated.

Rafe let you go so he & Micah could regather the empty guns, putting them back in the bags before zipping them up. You approached Millie, hugging her.

“We did it.” She smiled through her tears, “We saved Micah.”

“Yeah.” You were relieved but couldn’t share her smile. You’d be happy once all of you were back safe & sound at the house. “Let’s go to Adrianna.”

The two of you turned your backs, ready to leave the clearing when someone yelled out.

“No!” It was Micah. You glanced over your shoulder, wondering what the commotion was about, but before you could another shot rang out.

You fell to the ground, covering your ears. Just ahead of you, Micah was on top of Pat who was still on the ground. Rafe joined Micah, pressing the muzzle of a gun to Pat’s head before firing. Blood & brain matter spilled onto the forest floor.

“What the fuck?” You rushed out, your body shaking from the ups & downs of adrenaline.

“Millie!” Micah launched forward towards you.

It was then that you looked to your left. Millie was lying on her front, unmoving.

“Mills, baby, c’mon!” A hole was at the center of her back, smoke spilling from it. Her eyes were open, pupils dilated.

Micah turned her over in his arms, shaking her & slapping her face, “Millie!”

Bile rose in your throat. “Millie.” You whispered, crawling over to them.

Micah was sobbing, bringing her lifeless form to his chest, holding her tightly, “No, baby, baby.”

“Rafe.” Your voice sounded far away.

Rafe kneeled between the three of you, his face expressionless as he stared at Millie in Micah’s lap.

No. No, no.

“Millie!” You broke, grabbing her hand, rubbing her skin. Your vision blurred as your tears fell onto Millie’s arm.

Adrianna spilled out from the trees, the rifle hanging loosely from her hands as she took in the scene. She brought a hand to her mouth.

The trees wailed with you as a sudden wind picked up, the smell of iron thick in the air.

You rolled to your side, vomiting.

Luka’s face flashed through your mind. Millie’s smile. Micah’s sobs.

A hand was on your back as you emptied the contents of your stomach, your throat burning. Once you finished hurling, you stayed on your knees, burying your face into the earth.

A scream ripped from your throat.

Millie Zimmerman

2001-2023

a shorter chapter but a lot happens so that makes up for it. as always, please drop a comment, reblog with reviews, or talk to me via ask. being able to hear what you guys think keeps me motivated so help me help you lmao.

thank you for reading!

beau<3

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!fic #non con fic #dark!fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #dark!outer banks #rise chapter six

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moonshynecybin · 2 months

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Hi, if its convenient can you put me a link to all Bezz vrimes of haterism on Marc. Is he really that insane to go on record like a drunken man

omg i would love to... those videos are so literally iconic and all of this is so funny to me... SO um. like marc absolutely had a hand in crashing bez out really early at valencia 2023, but it didnt get on the broadcast bc the fucking TITLE FIGHT was happening and stuff. like there were other priorities. HOWEVERRRR this reallyyyyy pisses bez off. like a lot. so he fucking shows up to honda hospitality to demand justice or something, maybe get an apology or explanation. i have no idea what he thought would happen tbh, because marc had ALSO crashed out of that race (jorge martin doing stupid shit) and it was his LAST RACE WITH HONDA. so marc is CRYING all over the place and trying to achieve emotional catharsis about closing a major chapter of his life and then bez (A FUCKING VALE CRONY??) shows up and starts literally maybe yelling at him. which i imagine did not impress marc. so he refuses to talk to him! or turns him away idk but SOMETHIN happens that pisses bez off even moreeeee so he goes into his post race briefing just absolutely spitting mad in like. a puffer jacket with a beer literally in his hand. messy.

so he starts YAPPING. calls marc the dirtiest rider in motogp and says marc only got away with it bc hes MARC MARQUEZ and there was a conspiracy from the stewards and the broadcast (um. buddy.) and its makes a bunch of headlines bc vr46/marquez flavored beef keeps the lights on around here. marc says to the media i dont wanna even talk about that person. NEXT. so it goes.

but its not even over! because later that day bez gets WAYY drunker (TOASTED.) and posts up to the ducati garage to celebrate with the championship win with pecco whereupon he steals a microphone from skyitalia and goes around bothering people and dropping little digs at marc the wholeeeee time it is VERY funny. hes like pecco hello how are you today congratulations i WILL beat you next year. did anyone know that marquez made me crash. now lets talk to your GRANDMA ! like its awesome. i watch it when i get sad and imagine the PR guy was locked in a closet somewhere screaming. theres a vid with excellent translation here. homie is on the MOON.

anyways he saw marc on track at testing was a lil annoyed but then he walked most of this back like three days later (i DO think some stories got published saying they physically FOUGHT and there were some made up quotes that were obvs crazy, but i also think my man marco got a taste of the vale/marc media divorce vortex and went runningggggg) which is. also so funny. "i dont care what people think" (cares sooosossoso much)

#LOVE a hothead who also is hyperaware of approval and loves attention. who is also an introvert. funniest thing a man can be #motogp #callie speaks #asks #marco bezzecchi #what beautiful posting we had that day... do you remember how we used to run...

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exo-raskreia · 3 months

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idk if it means much because gojo called a lot of people with their first name, but to me it means quite a lot that utahime gets mad at him for not using honorifics, but still turns her head and pays attention when he calls her name again after she scolded him. people can see it as she has no choice or just being business with him, but it also means she's comfortable and knows he's a brat and annoying to her and she still chooses to be kind and remind him he should respect her (funny). I remember a tweet saying she wears her heart on her sleeve and expressive and loud and if she wants gojo to stop the teasing, she possibly can, especially if she really hated him. but look at them, it went on for more than 10 years.

Well, Utahime is one of the 3 adults Gojo calls by first name with no honorific (the others being Geto & Shoko). It's strange & interesting when u think about it... 👀

Yes, Uta seems to have the personality to be able to tell off Gojo if she really wanted him to stop the teasing. The fact it's been going on for more than 10 years means that maybe, she's not that bothered by it. She seems to like bantering with him, matching his energy.

She's the only one crazy enough to feel competitive towards him 😂; probably thinks she can beat him at something. "He can't be good at everything!" she probably tells herself. (Girl, it's been years, lol...). It's cute & funny tbh. If she truly hated him, she wouldn't indulge him.

Even Uta's own students find her reactions to Gojo strange in the 2nd JJK novel (Chapter 2)...

We know she loves baseball, so of course she wanted her students to put their all into it, plus, it's Gojo's students they were competing with. She was all fired up. But for her students to compare her passion for baseball with her reactions to Gojo...well...that's an interesting observation 👀

Gojo must enjoy the banter too. He can't help himself every time they're in the same vicinity. He's so good at everything that he doesn't have particular hobbies (as stated by Gege) but he's been teasing Uta consistently for more than 10 years...never seeming to get tired of it...

They both act like teenagers 🤭. Maybe they should get locked up somewhere to finally confront whatever's going on between them... 🫢

I also think it's interesting how Utahime always listens to Gojo & trusts him so much despite her annoyance towards him. She didn't doubt him when he brought up the traitor & let him talk for 3:41 minutes on their phone call 👀. She was not informed about the attempted assassination of Yuuji at the Goodwill Event; it's like Gakuganji knew she wouldn't agree to it, & her students didn't even think to tell her either. She must be that kind, and/or maybe she trusted Gojo's judgement in keeping Yuuji alive, which Gakuganji may have suspected.

Then we know she not only did the risky task of investigating the traitor at Gojo's request, but buffed him against Sukuna... on Christmas Eve... barefoot... He most likely asked her for help again & she agreed... I still want to know how this went down 😫. You don't do all this for someone you supposedly hate nor ask this much of someone you find weak...

At this point, one's inclined to believe there might even be some sort of tension between them... Afraid (and/or unable) to take another step closer, but can't stay away, so they stick to what they know... Not too close but not too far from the other...

#gojohime #gojo and utahime #anonymous #reiapost

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justdeich · 1 month

Text

Oh boy oh boy overblot refs w @inquisiteur37

So Deich's overblot is based on Oswald the lucky rabbit + the blot from epic mickey.

Ver.2

If anyone interested oc info can be found here

Under the cut is me rambling abt overbloting and oc stuff I tried to put as much epic mickey refs as I could

I decided to mix them together because in the early concepts Oswald was supposed to be the main villain but it got changed and the blot got used instead. But in the game Oswald is still "kinda" a villain. Don't hit me I haven't played the game. I will. When epic mickey refurbished will come out.

The main reason for Deich's overblot would be jealousy and feeling useless/not being good enough???

Who wouldn't be sad. ya got transported to unknown place, get treated like trash and then, your friend seems to be adapting better than you. Look at them living life, new friends, new adventures, popularity, what fun.

And there's you. Didn't people forget that you gotta get home?? HELLO?? (Only in 7th chapter we really start to find info on how to get home soooo) You thought your friend will be there with you but no. They left you. For something better. But then you try to be as positive as they are, but you fail, you try to be helpful, it never works out, you try to regain control, but they seem.. to forget about you.. you were never enough. You don't belong. Never did.

Ya dont really wanna tell how you feel so not to bring the mood down..they seem.. so happy.. without you.. maybe its for the better...so it becomes a "habit" to just hide everything away and don't bring it up. You always managed to hide everything and be just fine. Just keep it up and you'll get through. What a "lucky habit" to have huh.

What great life they have huh. Do I get a chance to be a part of it?

Why does it hurt.. it hurts it hurts IT HURTS!! JUST MAKE IT STOP

I wanted Deich's overblot to be more destructive, to the body I mean. Deich been holding her feelings for a while. (i wanna make overblot happen in the 5th chapter. Or somewhere in that time period. For... romantic reasons..hehehe) ( Oswald trapping the blot reference) I think hiding singhs of ovebloting can lead up to some consequences.

Hiding symptoms of overblot may include: ink vomiting, hallucinations, body tremors- and maybe smth else, idk, need to think abt it.

Eee just sketches don't mind itttt it's baddd

Deich would get fully consumed by the fantom, (phantom blot. Get it?) like forcibly getting dragged. (Like how the blot takes away mickeys gang) Ya know, blot dripping, huge puddles of ink pooling everywhere.

The more you get corrupted by the blot the more sanity you loose? Right? I had this scene in mind where you're at the worst stage of blot but still try to communicate in a way, but the more you try to speak the more tortured you sound. Ink like acid running your vocal cords as more of it spills out, body tired from the amount of blot that covers your body but you still try to reach out.

#deich be doin art #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland #twst self insert #twst yuu #twst #twst oc #a bunch of nonsensical rambling #the blot #oswald the lucky rabbit #epic mickey

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fire-but-ashes-too · 8 months

Text

(Writerblr) intro post!

Hi! welcome to my blog! this is my (very late) writerblr/general/artblr intro, or just somewhere with all my general informations :)

please, go on and read *bows*

☆ Ash is my name on here and i go by she/her

★ Im a teen writer and artist, but i dream of acting

☆ im from italy

★ pan ace and quoiromantic (or wtfromantic its the same) (im still kinda questioning tho??? probs demiromantic??? idk?? feelings r weird atm)

☆ entp and introvert

★ im always up for tag games or stuff like that :)

☆ recently added tags! #ash writes- my writing ofc #ash and her rants- just me talking abt random stuff could be anything serious or not #ash on fire- probs me fangirling over something lol i may get overexcited beware

★ i relate to a spiritual and psychological level to black cats and all theur other forms (aka regulus black, tori spring, aristotle mendoza etc etc etc)

i mostly write fantasy or fanfiction, but sometimes i engage in various genres as mystery, dystopian or surrealism :)

★ So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since

genre: fanfiction

audience: general/ teen and up

tropes: rivals to lovers, college AU, slow burn, a lot of fencing, paris✨

cw/tw: past rape/non con, ptsd, homophobia, wounds/blood

progress: i try to update every week but nothing's promised 🥲

snippet here:

Years ago he’d learned to mask his handwriting, so now he could easily forge any handwriting he wanted, if he was given a good example of it being used. There was something extremely interesting in how each person connected two letters to each other. How they wrote an “ar” was different from how they would write an “or”, how much the words were apart from each other and how much pressure they put in the paper told a lot about someone, to him it was like zodiac signs. He didn’t always have to copy other handwritings, not unless he wanted to throw the blame on that person. He just had to invent a brand new writing style, and be careful to not slip his between the cracks. And that’s exctly what he did in the letter. Before Jesper could finish his monologue about how much he had missed out in the past few months holed up in his office, a blackmail threat was ready to be closed inside the paper envelope, just the signature was missing, but he didn’t bother to add it. A proper threat always had to be anonymous, it was always better to give as little information you could. Everything could be used against you. The maroon wax sealed the opening with a satisfying fizzling and a single wisp of smoke. The clock chimed on the wall, it was already 6 pm, he had to go finish some assignments.

(previously titled: questionable decisions)

☆ The Rogue

genre: fantasy, dystopian

audience: teen and up

setting: a fantasy world im currently busy (trying) building

progress: just vibes really, two mainc characters, a couple sides and an outline plus one of the first chapters, not much really but im working on it

characters:

anne: the rogue from where i took the title.

shes a 17 y/o girl who lives in a bunker in a forest, on the run from the government as she's a "high traitor and liar who must be destroyed".

she has the ability to modify her face and appereance for a while and she has a prosthetic arm connected to her virtual friend Indigo.

thanks to it she's able to teleport and keep track of various things.

alexander: the son of the dictator, he's lived his life in a bubble until 2 years ago, when he finally managed to get more social contacts with people and (slightly) catch up on what he's missed, behind his father's back of course.

he meets anne when she's captured and figures she's his best shot at escaping his father domain.

snippet:

This time, she materialised in the shadows behind a bulding, which gave her enough cove for her to shift her facial features. Her nose a little bigger, her hair some shades brighter, her eyes more elongated and greener than the grass growing outside her doorstep and a splash of freckles to top it all off. It was way harder to do it without a mirror, and way more dangerous. For all she knew, she could’ve been looking like a girl with a fish head, and she didn’t know if that would be better or worse than looking like herself. Anne took out a hat and a silk scarf, she wrapped it around her neck and jumped in a group of tourists gazing at the city. In no time she was in the square, vendor’s stands circling her, colourful flags waving in the wind. She could’ve stayed like that for ever, stuck in the memories of her old life, but she knew it couldn’t last forever.

★ Flowers and Homicide

genre: mystery

audience: general

cw/tw: blood, dead bodies, autopsies

main character: Giada

she's a forensics student who one day stumbles (metaphorically) over a dead body in her neighbour's lawn and starts investigating.

progress: actually finished but in italian sadly so in the translation process

☆ Confessions of a timeless man

genre: short story, surrealistic

audience: teen and up

content warning: suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression

plot summary: a man is stuck living the same day over and over, after almost 10 years there, he tries to escape his curse by killing himself

progress: completed XD

(here's my ao3 btw)

you want to know more about me! why than you, here you go!

★ my favourite artists are Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, Arctic Monkeys, Chase Atlantic, Marina, Lana del Rey, Sabrina Carpenter, Mother Mother and Billie Eilish (theres more but i cant remember whoops)

☆ i have a veryyyy slight synesthesia

★ other than writing, art-ing and reading i love baking/cooking and crocheting

☆ theatre kid over here, always up for screaming my lungs out

★ uhhh im a vegetarian

☆ i know a scary amount about death and murder (especially poisons)

★ i dont have a specific vibe, it usually changes every few months or so

☆ i probably have anxiety but ive never been to therapy so idk 💀

★ always up for fangirling :3 (im in too many fandoms *cries* buuut im most active on pjo, marauders, grishaverse and osemanverse, musicals and some books that i have boards for on my pinterest :D)

☆ i am terribly scared of insects, needles and dogs

★ my (quite unusual) sport is aerial dance, a circus speciality that looks really cool but is acctually really painful

☆ my pinterest, spotify and goodreads if by some reason you're really interested in the chaotic human being that i am :)

thank you for reading this farrr🥹🥹

have a great day/night/life/existence/other :D

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captain-mj · 7 months

Note

hey idk if I missed what it stands for somewhere or smth but. rlly curious what ESU stands for in the GhostSoap Handler fic.

also,, 100000/10 fuckign,,, LOVING that fic so MUCH I am bouncing off the walls like the roommate's crackhead cat at 2am that keeps one from getting decent sleep

So this is the last chapter! ESU stands for Experimental Soldiers Unit (not the most creative but are most military names?)

Previous Parts

Soap gently helped Ghost into his tac vest while Ghost checked Soap’s gun. He went over every inch, making sure it was working perfectly.

Ghost felt a kiss be placed to the base of his wings.

There was a funny sense of finality that Ghost knew everyone around him must feel. Surely they had to.

Yet no one acted any differently.

It was a simple milk run. The only difference was Valeria was the target. It was fine. Normal.

Fucking… normal.

Ghost felt like he was on a tightrope. Soap was perfect. Soap was always perfect. But Jesus Christ he was tired. It ached. This longing to curl back up in his chair in Glasgow.

Graves’s words were going to him. But now, so were Alex’s.

“Simon, do you ever wish you could retire?”

“No.”

“I do. I think of one day never shifting back. Putting the wings away. Maybe just cutting them off so i can never be asked again.” Alex had seemed far away. Something had changed with him recently. Or maybe it was Ghost seeing it for the first time. “Can’t do it yet. Not while they’re still things to do. People to protect.”

Ghost hadn’t responded.

Alejandro seemed happy. Graves seemed happy. Was it something they were doing? Some secret?

Alejandro and Rodolfo got married. He saw the way they looked at each other. It was the way he looked at Soap when he caught himself in mirrors.

Why was that not enough? Why was loving Soap not enough to fix it? Fix him? Make him less tired?

But he did his job just like always. He sat quietly in his seat on the truck, listening to a Gaz and Price and Soap. They were talking about the mission, planning.

Ghost would go in alone and they’d ambush her. She knew they were coming so they expected a lot of fighting. It’s why it was important they stay and watch his back.

His nails dug into his skin. They were concerned about him. Price asked if he could handle it alone.

“Yes, sir. I can.”

Ghost went into the building, taking special care to be silent. Everyone else could get the enemies' attention. He just needed to find Valeria.

And he did. He found her with a hurt monster. A Damaged thing.

Nunez's wings were beautiful, but he had the same staining on his skin that Ghost did. Same curse.

Valeria looked at him.

He understood.

"I watched the military destroy Alejandro. Take men and return pieces of them. I just... couldn't let that happen to him. I stopped it in Los Almas when no one else did!" Valeria hissed at him, standing in front of Nunez. "It was selfish and horrible what they did. You defend them you..." She stared, slowly relaxing. "You..."

Ghost stared. He swallowed thickly.

"No, you get it."

Ghost hated her.

"If we're found, they'll take him away from me. They'll start experimenting on him again. Can you live with that?"

Ghost thought of an airplane.

"Go." He rasps. "Just go."

Valeria smiled and Nunez dragged her away, going faster than anyone Ghost had ever seen. And Ghost went out a different door.

He heard them realize Valeria was going South and Ghost started going North.

Simon knew he had to go home.

Hopefully Soap wouldn't be so mad at him.

His radio went off. "Simon. Simon, how copy."

Ghost took his radio off and dropped it on the ground.

"Simon. How copy."

Ghost listened to them try to call him back. He took off his vest and left it on the ground. His dog tags were left a few feet away from them.

He hoped Alex would leave soon. He deserved it. Gaz deserved it. To know his sweetheart would be coming home.

Ghost remembered his journey to Texas after Mexico. It felt similar. His feet bled. His chest convulsed. The little thing called his heart beating and fluttering randomly. It begged him to go back or lay down and die.

What are you without the military?

Don't know. I'll figure it out.

What are you without Soap there to hold your hand?

If I never let go of his hand, I'll never have to know.

Ghost found himself crawling into Soap's bed in Glasgow. He showered first, not wanting to dirty his sheets. Soap had been there recently it seemed but left again. His body sank into the pillows. Too large and bulky but it cradled him gently.

When he got up, he ate. He showered again. He stared at the walls before using Soap's computer.

First thing he did was snoop through emails to look at reports. They were about him. All about him. Where was he? Why was his gear left? Is he okay?

In one of Price's reports, there was a message at the bottom.

"I hope it goes well."

It was an odd phrasing. Just odd enough for Ghost to know it was on purpose.

Of course Price would know.

After a week of searching, life returned to normal. For them. Ghost was still in Soap's home. And after a lot of rest, he started to do stuff again. He started to look through more reports, but nothing was that fun. Then, he started to search the internet.

Ghost found his brother's old music. Silly teenage band music. He liked hearing his brother's drumming. The person singing didn't really matter. Just Tommy's drumming.

It led Simon down a rabbit hole. About his murder apparently.

There were videos upon videos about his family.

He watched every single one.

True crime videos. Women doing makeup and men making jokes.

it was nice, seeing his family together again sans his father.

Then, someone showed a picture of him in a bar, clearly drunk and hunched over. His body was already changed but the baggy hoodie kept it semi hidden.

"It's time stamped for 9:17."

"Time of Death was put at 9:19."

"How did he travel all the way home and tear them to shreds in two minutes?"

Ghost didn't do it. That night wasn't his fault.

The realization had him clawing at his skin and wailing until he worried the neighbors may call the cops. His head throbbed and his throat ached.

The black on his skin spread. It burned and ached and for once, Ghost decided it wouldn't be so bad to be half mad and feral. His brain hurt. There was so much heat on his body. Intense and furious.

A fever over took him. It felt almost silly. Like his emotions had gotten so harsh and bad that it gave him a physical reaction.

His body had an intense ache over it and it felt like the light blistered against his skin. Everything was hazy and out of focus, unable to focus on anything.

So Simon showered in the dark and he ignored that his skin felt so uncomfortable and that his feathers had started to fall out.

And then one day, he woke up, body incredibly sore from his fever but no more hysteria or fever. He ran his hands over his face, pausing.

His hands. They looked.

Normal.

No claws.

Just pink flesh.

There was a sound and he perked up. It didn't ring in his ears or go on for ages.

There was a click of a door and Simon went downstairs. His clothes hung off of him, no longer tight.

Soap.

Soap put his keys into the bowl. He looked exhausted. Red rings around his eyes.

Simon was stupid.

"Missed me?"

Johnny went for his gun before freezing. He just kept staring.

"Ghost?"

Simon stretched, for the first time in years not feeling the weight of wings and guilt on his shoulders.

"Just Simon."

"Simon."

"How about I make you a cup of coffee? Or food? I'm sure you're starving." Simon wanted to feel useful suddenly. It was an intense need to help that was interrupted by Soap kissing him hard. Simon only flinched back, worried his fangs would cut his lips. But there were no fangs. Just lips.

Simon yanked him closer and kissed him deeply, pulling him in closer.

Johnny pulled away and shook him. "You fucking disappeared. You fucking... You..." He kissed him again.

"I'm sorry. I waited here for you. I'm never going to let go of your hand."

"Huh?"

"Don't worry about it."

#Experiment au #Monster au #Monster!Ghost #Monster Ghost #Simon Ghost Riley #Johnny Soap MacTavish #Captain John Price #John Price #Cod #Call of Duty Modern Warfare #soap x ghost #ghostsoap

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unreliablesnake · 1 year

Text

Wounded animals

Pairing(s): It's supposed to be a Joel Miller x reader piece, but Tommy took control when I wrote it so it might be a Tommy Miller x reader story. Idk.

Note: This is like a pilot chapter. I'm more of a short chapters kind of girl because–to quote Neil Ellice–I have the attention span of a bag of squirrels.

Warning: afab!reader

It had been a very long shift so far and you still didn't see the end of it. Since the night seemed to be relatively quiet, you lied down on the bottom bunk bed in the on-call room, hoping you could catch some sleep.

You had no idea how much time had passed, but you were woken up by someone coming in and talking to you, saying words you couldn't quite understand just yet. Your eyes slowly opened and you found a man standing there, suddenly falling silent as he watched you.

"I can't believe it," he muttered under his breath as he walked inside and closed the door behind him. "It's really you."

He knew you, he was familiar, but the pieces of the puzzle simply didn't click in your head after spending so much time awake. But then you noticed a scar on his forearm, right below his elbow, that jump-started your memory. "Tommy!" you squealed as you stood up and rushed over to hug him.

His arms sneaked around your waist as he embraced you, keeping you in a bear hug you couldn't escape from. "We thought no one got out of the hospital alive, we thought you died," he said, chin resting on top of your head.

With a quiet chuckle, you leaned back a little to look up at him. "The military came in and took every staff member somewhere safe. They put us in quarantine to see if we were infected, but once we were proven to be clear, they took us to different clinics to help whoever got injured in that mess," you explained.

"I'm so happy to see you," he said, murmuring into your hair before reluctantly letting you go as he stepped away from you.

"What about Joel and Sarah? Do you know anything about them?"

"Sarah was killed by a soldier right at the start, we couldn't save her," he began to tell you, sitting down on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his thighs. "Joel… Something broke in him that night, he's… not the same."

Not the same. Tommy's words echoed in your mind, making you wonder what had happened to him. Losing his daughter and finding himself in a strange new world probably had its toll on him, but at the same time his younger brother seemed perfectly fine. How bad could that be?

"Is he here in the QZ?" you asked quietly.

Tommy nodded. "He's right here, on this floor. I came in here because he finally woke up and it would be great if someone could take a look at him. The doctor who helped him went home apparently," he told you with a smile.

You sat down next to him, your eyes fixed on the door as you thought about this. Twelve years. It had been twelve years since the world went crazy. Since you had to leave everything behind. Since you were separated from Joel. Since you last felt love.

Now? Now you weren't sure you could look Joel in the eye. Your heart had been empty lately. It was much easier to deal with your job in this new world if you didn't have any feelings for others. No friends. No lovers. No family. Nothing. You were just an empty shell compared to your old self.

Suddenly you felt Tommy take your hand in his, fingers absentmindedly tangling with yours as he watched you. Tilting your head to the side, you gave him a questioning look. Something was wrong, you could feel it, but you also didn't want to force him to tell you what bothered him.

Then he stood up and pulled you up with him, his hand not letting go of yours, even when you left the room. As he led you to the room Joel was in, you wondered what you should say to him. What do you say to your ex-finacé you hadn't seen in over a decade?

"It's gonna be alright," Tommy told you when he stopped in front of a door. You gave him a doubtful look, and he leaned down to kiss the top of your head in return. "Just don't expect the old Joel, okay?" You nodded obediently. "Good. Let's go."

Your heart was beating in your throat, the world around you slowing down as he opened the door and stepped inside. You followed him like a lapdog, your eyes fixed on your shoes as you walked. It was hard to look up, to look at Joel again after all those years.

"You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me," you heard Joel say bitterly.

That's when you finally looked up, facing the man with a sad look in your eyes. He didn't sound like the old Joel. Your Joel. This man was a stranger, with no softness in his brown eyes.

"I found her sleeping in a room," Tommy said with a short laugh, probably to lighten the mood. "After all these years it turns out she survived."

"I heard what happened to Sarah. I'm so–"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," Joel growled like a rabid dog.

You took a step back at the same time you felt Tommy's hand on the small of your back. When you looked up at him, he only shook his head with a sad smile. Don't ask, don't object, just stay calm. You could certainly do that.

With a sigh, you finally pulled yourself together and walked closer to the bed. "Can I take a look at your wound?" you asked cautiously. You were a doctor, it was your job to help him.

But Joel had a different idea. "I want another doctor," he snarled.

This took you off guard, and you soon felt Tommy put a hand on your waist to pull you behind him. "Joel, calm down, she just wants to help. She's a doctor in case you forgot, and you're a patient. Let her help," he tried.

"Get out. Both of you."

He didn't have to say twice, you shook your head and turned around to leave the room as he asked. Once outside, you leaned your back against the wall and started to cry silently, his words replaying in your head over and over again, each time hurting you more than before. Tommy had been right, this wasn't the Joel you knew so well.

"Hey, hey, don't cry, it's not worth the tears," Tommy said when he showed up in front of you, raising his hand to wipe your tears away. "He's been like that for a long time, don't take it personally. I think you remind him of his old life, of Sarah, and it's too much for him. Also, he's like a wounded animal now, attacking anyone who goes near him."

You didn't object when he pulled you into a hug, his hand rubbing along your spine to soothe you. Soon you stopped crying, your brain focusing on him instead, listening to the mixture of the steady rhythm of his breathing and the way his heart pounded against his chest.

Maybe this was for the better. If he really had changed this much over the years, it would probably be for the best if you didn't talk to him. He was in the past, it would be better to keep nothing more but the good memories.

Your hands instinctively moved to your necklace and the ring you had on it. He gave you this engagement ring before the military took you away, and you weren't about to let it go until now. But today you realized the Joel you remembered was nothing more but a ghost that kept haunting you.

So you took it off and placed it into Tommy's hand. "Could you give it back to him?" you asked.

He took a look at the piece of jewelry and you saw a glint in his eyes that you didn't really understand at the time. But he eventually flashed a smile at you and nodded. "Sure. When will your shift end?"

You let out a long sigh as you thought about whether or not you wanted to think about hanging out with him. Because that's what he wanted to ask, you could feel it. In the end you looked at your watch and let out a thoughtful hum.

"I still have five and a half hours left, and then I'm gonna hit the bed at home," you replied.

Tommy suddenly leaned over to place a kiss on your forehead. "Okay, sleep is important, especially in your line of work," he began. "I know where to find you now, so we'll talk some other time then."

Apparently he wasn't about to give up so you gave in. After nodding, you said goodbye and left to return to the on-call room, hopefully catching some sleep.

Not like you could sleep with Joel on your mind.

••••••

Taglist (although I won't do this in the future - hit the get notifications button and you'll know when I post something): @kyuupidwrites

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #the last of us #tlou

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pandalexoxo · 3 months

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i can’t stop imaging myself being transported into tokyo revengers. though, personally, i believe it would be bitter sweet.

TOKYO REVENGERS X MALE READER

i’d love to imagine meeting takemichi, and confiding in him that i know about his power, that, i too, have a secret. i would tell him that i’m not even from this universe. he thinks time leaping 12 years is weird? try telling him you’re from another reality (basically) where he’s an anime.

to sum up my thoughts (i wrote 13 paragraphs before deleting it bc this is suppose to just be a ramble lmfao, maybe i’m uploading it later and get your guys inputs) i just feel like i would try to be the sunshine guard dog protector, y’know? not necessarily swoop in to save takemichi (tho, i’d definitely swoop in to beat some characters asses just bc i have a personal vendetta) because damn! look at how badass and hot takemichi is, whenever he fights?! (that ass. thiccimichi 😩😼)

now, here’s where my heart aches and my brain fries from overthinking. do i tell takemichi that i watched the anime (read the manga too) and know who will die in the end? do i tell him that i know of the anime but haven’t seen it or read the manga?

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR TOKYO REVENGERS ANIME AND MANGA!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

so, we know that in chapter 275 of the manga (probably season 5 in the anime if we’re lucky) takemichi ends up dying by mikey’s hand, a blade through his chest (heart? stomach? idk i haven’t read the manga in a few months. i sobbed hysterically over his death and refused to open the manga back up. that was until chapter 276 came out, how foolish of me to believe takemichi wouldn’t stand back up like he always does. what a true mc)

funny enough, by using mikey’s hand, he’s able to time travel him and mikey, not just 12 years, but back to when they were kids (i think they were 8 or somewhere around there). thus they are able to help each other create their perfect ending.

though… this “perfect ending” can’t happen unless the characters who died stay dead. shinichiro, baji, emma, izana, draken. with these deaths, mikey indulges in his “dark impulses” and thus the kanto manji gang and toman gen 2 end up fighting to lead to takemichi’s death and end with the perfect book closing page.

it’s unfortunate. it makes me tear up, sob, want to throw up (maybe throw myself out the window) but everything needs to happen. not only the deaths but takemichi’s mental health diminishing needs to happen to. this (others teaching him how to fight and his visions) helps takemichi in the last battle to dodge, punch and get close to mikey.

though, how easily takemichi forgives?! boy just smiles off his pain and forgives others, especially in the final chapter??? he just has his beautiful dopey smile on his face when mikey recognized him and then they ride off into the sunset to save their future??? hell. no. i need everyone to put their fists up, stand in a line, and eat my fucking fist.

i need a takemichi villain arc series. would someone be willing to make that for me? what do you want? a cookie? therapy? a hug? emotional and mental stability? no mommy and daddy issues? (i can’t provide the last two unfortunately, still trying to figure that shit out myself lmfaooo. though, my dms are always open. i love chatting with people and sharing dark humor. muah!)

then again, this is why i whole heartedly admire takemichi. he may not be physically strong like the others but as mikey says, he’s incredibly mentally strong. he gets back up. he stays standing. he’s determined and won’t fall until he wins. he’s too kind. i love him so much guys you don’t understandddd. hina, please share, fuck i am on my knees, foaming at the mouth and barking.

ugh :( it’s okay michi. you get your perfect future, though, are you truly happy and at peace? just keep smiling, okay? anywhooo, you know, i could treat you better anyway! xoxo 😼🕺😽

#rambles #blurb #takemichi #hanagaki takemichi #tokyo revengers #takemichi x reader #takemichi x male reader #takemichi x gn reader #takemichi x hinata #mikey. when i catch you mikey.#ken wakui #ken wakui i love you #ken wakui why do you hate me?#ken wakui why do you hate us?#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader

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ashturnedtomist · 11 months

Text

Keep it Covert: Ch.0

Prologue

@morgansplace came up with the title. everyone say thank you.

Summary: in which, things are not kept covert.

Next Chapter

TW: panic, cursing, force, Geordi starts to have a panic attack but you don’t really see anything

Read it on Ao3 too :)

Based off of this post

Morgan sighed, knitting his brows together.

Standing before him was the only other Seer Obscura that he knew existed, and they were exhausted.

“Can we just…take a break? Please?” They were working on honing their abilities and they had worn out their core.

“That’s fine, just sit down,” he gestured to the couch. He slumped down beside them, undoing his tie and turning on the TV. He flipped to a random news channel.

He froze.

‘-American government has already started making plans and precautions against this unknown threat. The leaked documents call them, ‘empowered.’

Morgan leaned forward, his heart pounding.

“Morgan?” He glanced at his trainee. “What-what does that mean?”

He shakes his head, his eyes trained on the screen. “I-I don’t know.”

‘We know little about these people. Where did they come from? How long have they been living among us? And, are they a danger?’

———

“Shit,” James muttered. “Shit, shit, shit.”

His phone had been ringing off and on for the past half hour.

“Your stress levels are elevated.” Asset sat to the side, eyeing their superior.

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” he muttered bitterly. They hummed in acknowledgment. “What has happened?”

James sighed, bracing his hands on his desk. “The Department was exposed.”

Asset tilted their head to the side. “What does that mean?” James looked up at them. “It means-” his phone rings again. “That the unempowereds know we exist.”

Ring.

“Which means our entire project could be shut down.”

Ring.

“Which means you could be shut down.”

Ring.

They stare at him blankly before looking away. “I see.”

Ring.

“God damn it!” He flung his phone across the room, a shattering sound echoing across the empty walls.

Asset looked around for a moment before facing him.

“Take my memory card.”

He looked up at them again. “What?”

“Take my memory card.” They repeat. “Or at least make a copy. That way, if they shut me down, you will at least have a way to put my memories somewhere else. Maybe you could make me again. Somehow.”

A glimmer of their old personality shone in their eyes. James swallowed thickly. “Okay…okay. We can-we can do that.”

———

Geordi was exhausted. He’d had a long day.

First, his internet went out, and so did his cable. So he had to get that fixed.

Then he phone broke, so he had to get that done too.

And when he finally turned his phone on when he got home, he was bombarded with messages and calls.

15 unread messages from Guy

3 missed calls from Guy

5 unread messages from “Honey”

2 missed calls from “Honey”

1 missed call from Cutie

1 unopened voicemail from Cutie

His stomach dropped. What happened?

Cutie hadn’t contacted him in weeks, let alone Guy’s partner. They were friends, sure, but not that good of friends.

Geordi swallowed thickly as he opened his messages

Guy

dude

where are you

have you read the news

do it asap

wait

maybe dont

well it might be better if you do

honey says you should

but idk

just do it

please

and dont panic

unless you heard something from them

then maybe you can panic

im definitely panicking

“Honey”

Read the news. Now.

I don’t care what you’re doing.

This is more important.

Ignore Guy. He’s in a bad headspace right now.

Check the news.

Geordi scrambled to open his news app. His eyes scanned the screen until he found what they could be talking about.

Friends or Foes? Who are these ‘empowereds?’

Geordi almost dropped his phone. He quickly scanned through the article, his heart rate picking up with every word he read. He felt like he was going to be sick.

He quickly checked his voicemail.

‘U-um, hey Geordi, I know I haven’t checked in in awhile but-‘

Something cuts them off. They sound like they’re crying.

‘S-sorry about that. Um, anyway, I just wanted to get this message out to you in case you don’t hear from me for awhile. I’m sure you’ve seen the news.’

Geordi bit his lip. So that’s what this was about.

‘I lost my job! Well, I think I did. Things are kind of a mess over here-’

Their voice cuts out.

‘-don’t know what’s gonna happen now. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. I just- I-I love you, okay?”

Their voice grows more tearful.

‘I love you and I’m sorry I couldn’t have been a better partner to you. I’ve been trying so hard to get better. So hard. I don’t know when you’ll see me or hear from me next, so…’

They sniffle

‘I love you. Goodbye, Geordi.’

His phone clatters to the floor. He slides down the wall as his breathing grows heavy.

“No. No, no, no, no…”

———

Angel hums to themself as they mess around on their switch, Minecraft lighting up their screen. They had just finished building a house for themself and their dog when their phone went off. It was David.

“Hey, Davey, what’s-”

“I’m coming home. Don’t check the news. Just-just wait for me.”

“What? David, what’s-”

“Just wait.”

Beeping sounded in their ear, signaling that he had hung up.

Angel couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in their stomach

———

Aaron pressed a heated kiss to his partner’s lips. “I’ll teach you to talk back, Smartass.” They giggled against his mouth, moving to unbutton his shirt when his phone went off. They whined as he pulled away. He chucked. “Hold on, it’s Elliott.”

He pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Flustered shouting could be heard from the other line.

“Woah, woah, woah, Elliott. What’s going on?”

As his brother chattered on from the other line, Aaron grew pale.

He hung up the phone.

“Aaron? What’s wrong?” Smartass clambered onto his lap. “What happened?”

He took their hands into his. He was shaking.

“The human government knows about empowereds.”

——-

It was supposed to be a good day. An amazing day. They were gonna finish work, pick up dinner, and cuddle Aggro until Milo got home so they could eat and watch a movie.

It was great.

But now, they were hiding under their desk while sirens wailed above them, and black military boots stomped by.

It all happened so fast.

One moment, they were talking to their coworker about their latest therapy session, and how they were going to reach out to their boyfriend again, and the next, the emergency sirens were going off and government troops stormed the halls.

They huddled under the protective covering of their desk, trying not to make too much noise.

Their phone started vibrating. They scrambled to silence it.

‘God damn it, Milo.’

A gloved hand reached under the desk and pulled them out.

“What a sweet little thing you are.”

Sweetheart yanks their arm away. “Get the hell off me.”

The man in front of them scoffs and says, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. A lot of your colleagues have slipped away, but we have a few in holding.”

“Slipped away, huh?” Sweetheart says. “Well,” They look him up and down. “I guess they didn’t tell you how stealthy I can be.”

“What do you-” The man cuts himself off as Sweetheart disappears from his sight.

———

“Come on, Damien. I promise it doesn’t taste that bad.” Freelancer begged. Damien looked at the meal in front of him that Gavin had made. Everyone around him insisted that he try it.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad, Dames.”

“R-really, it’s good. Gavin outdid himself.”

The incubus in question leaned in close to the fire elemental.

“Please? For me? Don’t make me beg, Damien.”

Damien’s cheeks flushed a fiery red. “Fine. If it’ll get you out of my face.” Just as he went to go take a bite, Gavin’s phone rang.

“Ah…just a moment.” Gavin rose from his seat. “Don’t eat any just yet, I want to see the delectable look on your face when you try it!” He called before he disappeared out the door.

Freelancer furrowed their brows. What was that about?

They filled the time that Gavin was gone with casual conversation and some banter here and there. After about 15 minutes, Gavin came back inside.

He came back into the room, looking pale.

“Gavin?” Freelancer stood up. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Turn on the news.” Everyone looked at each other. “Now.”

Notes: Geordi and Guy are friends

Honey and Cutie are friends

Honey is also empowered bc I said so 😍

Also: this will be centered around an idea I came up with, so stay tuned.

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wcbweblog · 8 months

Text

WELCOME!

WHAT IS ‘WHAT COULD BE WORTH ETERNITY,?

What Could Be Worth Eternity?, or wcbwe for short, is an art/storytelling project of mine! I currently have a comic (very early stage) in-the-works, as well as some writing and other art pieces. In short, wcbwe is what I call the original universe that holds a number of stories and characters I want to share!

OH, SO THIS BLOG IS FOR THAT COMIC?

………not exactly, unfortunately. The comic is still very early in its production, and as the only person working on it, progress is slow going. I think taking the extra time will be worth it in the end, but I’m biased lol. As it stands, this blog is not specifically for the comic in the works, but when I am ready to start posting pages, this is where it’ll happen!

…ALRIGHT. THEN WHAT IS THE POINT OF THIS BLOG? WHY THE COUNTDOWN, IF THE BIG PROJECT ISN’T GOING TO BE READY FOR A WHILE?

Wait, countdown? For anyone who doesn’t know, for about two months, I was doing a… daily, countdown on my main blog, and it ended today, 2023.08.28, the day this blog goes up.

To be honest – the countdown wasn’t for this. In fact I’m writing out this lil intro post the day it’s supposed to go up while at work haha! I am incredibly unprepared. The countdown was to something at work (that never ended up happening, to my knowledge), I think we were supposed to do some sort of… media blackout? Like I said, it didn’t happen, so it doesn’t really matter. But, well, a couple of my moots saw the countdown and got curious, and I thought ‘well I should do something on tumblr, too!’. So here we are. Art blog! Yup, this is an art (and sometimes writing) blog centered around the wcbwe universe. Right now the plan is to update every Monday, but that’s subject to change because I have no clue what my uni schedule is yet XD

YEAH YEAH COOL. GO BACK TO THAT COMIC FOR A MINUTE?

Ah yes. The comic. My pride and joy, should I actually manage to stick with the project. Like I said, it’s still very early in its production; only the prologue and first chapter have been scripted, and only half the prologue has been storyboarded. And it’s going to be a very long comic, so that’s not a lot. I’d prefer to have the whole thing, or almost the whole thing, storyboarded before I start making pages. If you want an estimate? I’d say it’ll be about a year or more before I can start posting pages.

OKAY, SO IF YOU WEREN’T PREPARED TO START THIS BLOG, WHY DO IT?

Well, there’s no time like the present! I need somewhere to organize my thoughts and concepts for the universe, story, and characters, and I’m hoping having a dedicated blog might motivate me to sort out my ideas haha.

*INSERT FANCY LIL PROGRESS BAR HERE*

Wow! What was the progress again? Not to worry! I’ll keep the progress updated here :]

scripted up to chapter 4

21/? pages storyboarded

0/? pages completed

IF THIS IS AN ART BLOG, WHAT KIND OF ART WILL YOU BE POSTING?

In short, anything wcbwe related! Digital art, traditional art, short writing things, animations, concept art, storyboard sketches, etc. etc. Anything I make that has to do with the wcbwe universe will end up on here eventually! Not all of it will be Quality Art TM lol

ALRIGHT, BUT WHAT’S THE STORY ABOUT?

I don’t want to get too into spoilers, especially since I don’t have most of the plot ironed out yet. Up until the comic’s production is further along, the main focus here will be on worldbuilding and designs. With that said – you might be able to put together pieces of the plot with the art provided! I’ve got a couple big pieces coming up that have some kinda major spoilers. I just don’t want to actually talk about the plot things until I know what I’m doing. With that in mind, some art might end up getting retconned in the final production. Though, there’ll be a liiiiiiiitle plot sneak peak at the end of this post. Very small :p (it comes with art!)

ASKS ARE WELCOME!

Idk haha, if you’ve got anything to say, or any questions, drop an ask! It might take me some time to answer or I might want to save it for whatever reason, but I’ll answer eventually! Oh – asks are exempt from the Monday Updates btw! I’ll answer them whenever I answer them :3

…oh yeah I should probably mention. C a t s. (also tags are in the. tags-)

Without further ado – welcome to What Could Be Worth Eternity? Let’s dive in.

…

….

…..

……

………

……

.....

….

Arceli dies.

And then she doesn’t.

#wcbwe #wcbwe art #wcbwe writing

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randomshyperson · 1 year

Text

Yellow Curtains - Chapter Eight - Wanda Maximoff Series

Summary: Wanda Maximoff's senior year at Novi Grad School is duly planned for her. She has good friends, good grades, and a good system to hide who she really is. Or, the one based on Evak from the Norway Skam series, where Wanda is queer and tries to survive the last year without anyone knowing about it.

Warnings: (+18), general warnings about language and violence, legal drug use, mentions of underage drinking, high school, internalized homophobia and discovery of sexuality, explicit mentions of mental disorders (bipolarity and depression), dysfunctional family, making out, and eventual smut.

A/N- So, the final chapter is here (I might have said somewhere that it would be 10 chapters? Idk where that came from; I can't do math that's clear) and I hope everyone had a great reading with this it surely meant a lot to me to write about bipolarity. Let's see what comes next.

Skamverse | Series | General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

Chapter Eight - Minute by Minute

Četrtek 17:45 (Thursday 5:45 pm)

Wanda hadn't seen you in days. She had been keeping those thoughts away because she got a job - she was supposed to start next week -and Pietro had finally told his mother about the reason for the fight. Because he didn't want to involve Erik, he was waiting for his 18th birthday in February to take any legal action - if he decided to pursue any charges anyway. Natalya said that she would be with him for whatever he needed.

You hadn't shown up at school since Monday. Wanda tried not to look so worried; she had met the guidance counselor Agatha who told her that she had given you the freedom to take some days off, and study at home, whenever you needed, and the school had already been notified about your absence. In addition, Carol also said that you seemed fine, just a little grumpy and that you were working normally. She also mentioned that Peter had shown up at the apartment to take the rest of his things away.

And now, in the kitchen where Wanda was sitting at the table, cutting tomatoes for dinner, she didn't expect her mother to describe your appearance.

She blinked confusedly away from the task, looking at her mother who was pointing to the window.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Outside, dear." Natalya says. "There's a girl knocking on our neighbor's door. Is it someone you know? If it's a saleswoman let's pretend there's no one home..."

Pietro, who had gotten up to get a glass of his water, let out a laugh as he looked out the window. "It's Y/N Danvers, Mama. I bet she's looking for Wanda."

"Oh, is that a new friend?" Natalya asked curiously, but Wanda was already running out of the kitchen as soon as she wiped the fruit juice on a dishcloth.

She opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony at the same moment you were apologizing to her neighbor for the mistake.

"Y/N." She called out a little louder, and you turned your head, almost tripping over the step you were coming down. You smiled at her, before making your way to her entrance.

"Hey." You greeted gently, putting your hands in your pockets as soon as you passed the gate. "Did you know that identical houses don't help people with bad memories? I couldn't remember your place number and I've been bothering your neighbors for about twenty minutes."

Wanda hides a small smile. "You could have asked Nat."

"It was a last-minute decision." You shrug. "Besides this, it's more fun this way."

She swallows dryly. "What do you want?"

You sigh, but before you can speak, two figures are squeezing through the door behind Wanda.

"Aren't you going to introduce your friend, dear?" It's Natalya with a curious look on her face. You smile at her, nodding, and Wanda feels her ears heat up.

"Mama, that's Carol's sister, Y/N, a friend from school." She murmurs, looking at you only for a moment. You waste no time, moving forward several steps until Wanda can smell your perfume again in the closeness that occurs when you walk up the stairs and squeeze yourself next to her to shake Natalya's hand and greet Pietro as well.

"Hello, it's a pleasure." You say politely. Wanda looks out into the yard, away from the open buttons of your blouse that allow her to see part of your collarbone.

Natalya narrows her eyes a little. "You wouldn't be the reason my daughter has been so gloomy the last few days, would you?"

"Mama!" Wanda protests in shame, but you clear your throat quietly, stealing a glance at her before turning back to face Natalya.

"I am sorry to say that I am yes ma'am." You say upset. "I was unnecessarily rude and mean to her. But I am here to apologize, and make things right."

Natalya approves of your sincerity. "Well, it's a pretty mature decision. How old are you?"

"Eighteen, ma'am."

"And you work?"

"Yes, I am a parkour instructor for a gym in the capital."

"Interesting. Do you plan to go to college?"

Before you can answer, Wanda is giving you a gentle push by the hand. "Okay, end of the interrogation. We're gonna take a walk, okay? I'll be back for dinner."

"Goodbye, Mrs. Maximoff, it was a pleasure meeting you!" You waved goodbye, letting yourself be pulled by Wanda's hand out of the yard.

She didn't realize she was still holding it until around the corner, and let out an embarrassed exclamation that made you chuckle.

"Let's go this way." She pointed to the left, and you nodded before following her.

–//–

Četrtek 17:55 (Thursday 5:55 pm)

Rays of sunlight illuminated the playground where you both stood. Sitting side by side on the children's swings, Wanda studied the features of your face from the side as you stared at your shoelaces.

A long moment of silence stretched between you, and Wanda spoke before it became uncomfortable.

"You said you had something to tell me." She teased gently, making you smile.

Your gaze returned to hers, but only for a brief moment.

"I want to, but I don't know how to start."

Wanda firmed her foot on the floor to keep her swing from moving. "I've heard that apologies begin with I'm sorry."

You chuckle softly, and unlike her, your feet push a little dirt to rock your swing very gently.

"I'd like this to be my last apology but that's nearly impossible." You confess sincerely, and that surprises her a little. Your gaze meets Wanda's, searching for some kind of annoyance, but all you see is her curiosity. You sigh. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you last week, and for being absent for so many days. My head was a mess. It was the bad mood."

Wanda reaches out for the chain of your swing, following the rhythm of the gentle motion. "You don't have to go through any of this alone, Y/N. You know that, don't you?"

You look away, with a sad smile. You try to mumble that you do, but you don't believe it, and Wanda would probably realize it's a lie. It's all right, if it was for her, you would know that by heart.

"Maybe we should just not do this, Wan." You mutter looking away. Wanda feels her heart tighten in her chest. Your gaze returns to her, and it is as sad as your next words, "I am just going to hurt you, and then you will hate me."

She denies it with her head, and her hand leaves the chain to touch your wrist. "I would never hate you. Never. I want to be here, Y/N. For the best, and for the fucking worst too."

You don't reject her touch, but you give a humorless laugh.

"I can hardly stand myself, Wands. How can I ask you to do that?"

She releases her grip to slide her fingers down your hand, pulling you in and bringing it into her lap, where she intertwines your fingers. The motion of her swing begins to mimic yours.

"But that's my choice, you know? I want to be with you, and I don't need more than you."

A small smile emerges, but you shake your head, your free hand pushing your hair back.

"You say that now, when I'm okay. But when I'm not, I'll fuck it up and you'll go away-"

"Hey, stop, look at me." She gives your hand a squeeze and waits for you to obey. Her gaze, though gentle, contains no hesitation whatsoever. "Let's do something, alright? Let's stop thinking about tomorrow, and just slow down."

You frown softly. "What do you mean?"

She smiles, her thumb caressing your hand, and her gaze focused on yours. "For example... Do you think you can stay well for the next 60 seconds?"

You give a confused laugh, but with Wanda's look of encouragement, you nod. "Yeah, I can try."

She chuckles lightly, leaning over to bring her free hand up to your face. Her finger draws a heart on your cheek.

"Then we'll do it like this." She whispers like a secret. "All you need to worry about are the next 60 seconds. Not a week from now, or even tomorrow. Just the next minute. That's the way we're going to go, Y/N. Minute by minute."

You smile, resting your forehead on hers. Wanda strokes your cheek, smiling too. You just hold hands, and breathe together, for five, and then ten, and finally fifteen seconds.

"Can I use the rest of my minute to kiss you?" You ask in a whisper, and Wanda chuckles, nodding before you break the distance.

You both miss the feeling with all your hearts.

The sun has already set by the time you walk Wanda back home. She pushes you out of the window's view, against the entrance wall, to kiss you deeply goodbye, and you almost give up on leaving.

It's probably the happiest you've been in a long time.

–//–

Torek 15:10 (Tuesday 3:10 pm)

"I have a gift for you."

Wanda could imagine your expression, especially the little smile she loved because she thought it made you look charming, as you typed, "Really? Now I'm more excited than before. Come soon, Maximoff!" followed by two more 'Run! Get here soon!" with a giggle emoji below.

The subway was pretty quick, but Wanda still took almost forty minutes from Barton Construction to Novi Grad, at the Academy where you worked. She had to walk a bit but followed Google Maps to be able to find the small building.

It looked like a great place to work - besides the good location with several stores around, it was an open area, and before even passing the gate, Wanda could see you teaching outside to kids between 10 and 12 who seemed to be having the time of their lives jumping through false obstacles.

You two had been going out for a few weeks, taking things slowly as you agreed. And with school and work, you didn't see each other as often as Wanda would have liked, but that only made the moments together even more precious.

She announced her arrival at the gate to one of your co-workers, and as soon as class was over, you led the students out of the room and walked over to her.

Wanda giggled against your lips as you pressed her behind the lockers at the entrance to the locker room - a needy kiss that left her all flushed.

"You're sweaty." She teased, but you twitched your nose at her, kissing her again. Wanda was grateful for the hands-on her waist that provided support for her weak knees. "Aren't you hungry?" she reminds, half breathless from the exchange of affection, and you pull away only to kiss the tip of her nose.

"I'm going to take a shower and we'll have lunch in a minute." You say. "But can you please kiss me for real? I missed you."

Wanda giggles embarrassedly, looking away for a moment. "We're in the middle of your work, babe..."

"Just one kiss? I promise I'll return it to you later."

She giggles, but accepts, pressing your lips together. It is Wanda who slides her tongue into yours, pulling you by the shoulders to press her harder against the wall, and then breaks the kiss with an affected gasp.

"There you go, baby, now go take a shower." She prompted, shuddering at the way you were looking at her with your pupils fully dilated. "Y/N?"

You shook your head, grinning affectedly. "Okay, wait for me outside if you don't want the staff filling you with questions." Was your warning before you released her and headed for the locker rooms.

Wanda thought it was okay, and went to the reception desk, so she spent the next 20 minutes listening to questions from her co-workers who called her the mystery girlfriend you kept talking about. She didn’t mind.

–//–

Torek 15:35 (Tuesday 3:35 pm)

Wanda got off your back with a giggle. Although you had been the one working on physical activity so far, it was enough that she mumbled that her feet were a little sore from walking from the subway to there that you insisted on carrying her to where you were going to have lunch.

The food-truck area was empty, and you got a bench at the end of the hill that accommodated the food carts.

"What do you want, Italian, Sokovian, or Mexican? I think they're doing Thai now too."

"Surprise me." She retorted with a little smile, and you had to kiss her for it. You left a second later, going to buy the food, and Wanda adjusted your present in her jacket pocket.

You soon returned with lunch, and Wanda almost forgot about the gift because she got so caught up in the conversation. There were empty packages next to you when you entwined your hand in hers to play with her fingers while you asked: "Wasn't there something you wanted to give me?"

She exclaimed softly as she remembered. "Oh, that's right. Wait a second." She asked, releasing her hand to grab the gift from her jacket pocket.

You frowned slightly as the item was placed in your hands, a short chuckle escaping. "That's..."

"The church." She completed in expectation of your reaction. "I printed the picture and made it myself. Did you like it?"

You giggle, nodding, and twirling the item in your hand. It was a CD, with songs by Taylor Swift, but the cover was a picture of the church. Everything was handmade, and the dedication made your chest inflate with tenderness.

"I love it, Wands, that is really sweet."

"There's something else. Open it." She asks while studying your reaction as you busy yourself with obeying.

Inside is a CD, which also has handwritten markings in black pen. But what catches your attention the most is the song list on the inside. There are 20 tracks, all the songs that you imagine are Wanda's favorites, but the 21 just says 'I love you'.

You smile, kind of emotional, and stroke the track with your finger.

"Did that come from you, or is it an unreleased song?" You joke, receiving a light nudge but managing to make her laugh.

"It’s all coming from my dirty little heart." She teases back, and you smile, reaching over to kiss her gently for a long moment. Wanda sighs, but when she goes deeper you break apart. You brush your noses together, and whispers:

"I love you too, Wands. Never doubt or forget that." You ask, and she smiles, a hand going to your neck.

"I won’t."

–//–

Sreda, 23:12 (Wednesday, 11:12 pm)

Wanda's birthday is a bad day for you. It's all very unfair, you both think. You had been great the previous few days, incredibly supportive to her about the whole Pietro thing and how he had finally decided that he was going to pursue the case against Jake for the assault, and how Erik, as soon as he heard the news, said that they could stop counting on his financial support once they came of age for embarrassing him in front of the whole community.

Pietro would be starting work in a few weeks, he had gotten a trainee instructor position at your gym and Wanda was immensely grateful for this.

She had hoped that you would celebrate her birthday together, but on the day, you texted her.

"I don't feel well. I'm really sorry." And Wanda can't even blame you for that.

Pietro was sympathetic about the whole thing - While you were at home, buried under the covers as Carol informed Nat, who in turn informed the twins, Wanda went out. She wanted to stay with you, keeping you company, but you insisted that she enjoy her birthday, and your friends made sure of that.

Although she spent the day feeling a bit guilty, thinking about you alone, Wanda knew that there was nothing to be done, and tried to respect your request that she enjoys her 18th birthday celebration. Since it was a weekday, her friends took her to an arcade after school and promised that they would throw a decent party at the weekend.

Wanda came home with a dozen gifts, just like Pietro, and her first thought was to call you, even though you hadn't answered any of the dozens of messages she had sent you earlier.

"I don't think that's fair." Pietro declares from her door when Wanda has been staring at the screen of unanswered messages for some time. She blinks away and stares at him with confusion. He puts his hands in his pockets. "Why couldn't she just be there?"

Wanda sighs and blocks her cell phone, adjusting herself on the bed. "Don't be like that." She says seriously. "Y/N doesn't feel well. If she forced herself to go, she would be cranky and irritable all day. She'd end up saying things she'd regret, and I'd be worse off if she ruined the party than not going at all don't you think?"

Pietro hums grudgingly, shrugging. "I'm sorry, you're right. I know she likes you."

"She loves me, Pietro." Wanda corrects, and the boy gives a small smile, rolling his eyes in good humor.

"All right, birthday girl. Happy birthday and good night to you." He says, making her smile.

"Happy birthday to you too, Pietro."

She has already fallen asleep when a knocking sound wakes her up. Fighting sleep to get to her feet, Wanda shouldn't be so surprised to see you on her balcony.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" she asks confused, her hair half messed up and using one hand to scratch her eyes while the other opens the balcony door for you.

You stumble inside with a mischievous smile on your lips. "I felt better. I didn't want to miss your birthday."

She looks away at the little study table by the window, "But babe, it's late..." You cut her off with a kiss on the mouth, it's short, more like a greeting, but it makes Wanda smile.

"Happy birthday." You say, taking off your jacket as you walk away from her. The item goes to the couch in the corner of the room. "Come, I want to show you your gift."

You throw yourself on her bed, adjusting yourself against the pillow, and Wanda steals a glance at the closed door. You shouldn't have to worry about Mom or Pietro waking up, because it was just you, in her room, at night, alone..."

"Wands, come on." You rush her and she gives a little giggle before going to lie down beside you.

As soon as she is comfortable, you take the cell phone out of your pocket. Wanda twitches her nose in curiosity.

"Your cell phone is my gift?"

You laugh. "You're pretty funny, aren't you, Maximoff." You retort back, resting the cell phone on her stomach. "I made you a video with my amazing cinematography skills."

Wanda chuckles, watching curiously as you open the youtube app. Once she read the name of the video 'Deklica, ki ni mogla zadržati diha pod vodo' (The girl who couldn't hold her breath underwater) she let out a soft exclamation of protest. "Hey, I won that challenge!"

You giggle, turning your face to kiss her cheek quickly. "Watch the video, Ariel."

Wanda adjusted herself against you and clicked play. The title screen gave way to a montage of videos with the sound of La Vie En Rose - all recorded by you and her over the weeks of your relationship. Saved moments of Wanda cooking in your apartment, sleeping in your bed, studying with you. At school, waving from where she was talking to Nat and Carol, or standing next to you, making disgusting sounds to the couple in love. There were videos she recorded, of you training for work, doing push-ups on the bedroom floor with her on your back, both of you laughing your asses off. You, wearing social attire and offering a wink as you caught her recording through the reflection of the mirror.

Wanda, sleeping on your chest as you stroke her hair.

The video ends with you, speaking to the camera: "Zdravo lepo dekle! (Hello, beautiful girl!) I wanted to make something special for your birthday, something about all the happiness you are bringing me, and what better way than a video showing it? I hope you enjoyed the present, Wands. I love you. Happy birthday."

You put down your cell phone, looking at her for a reaction. Wanda thinks she might start crying at any moment, and once you see the tears in her eyes, you let out a sigh. "Is that a good sign or a bad sign?"

She laughs tearfully, leaning in to kiss you. Your cell phone slides off the bed as Wanda intensifies, straddling your lap to press you onto the bed. You gasp softly but respond. And she doesn't stop, which you honestly find incredible.

By the time your hands have moved up to her stomach under her blouse, and Wanda is panting on top of you, you break the kiss with a sigh.

"Wands, wait."

She stares at you with dark, but concerned eyes. "What's wrong?"

You smile, stroking her hip with your thumb. "You...are you sure? I want to, but your mother and brother are in the next room..."

"I'll be quiet." She assures you in a whisper, leaning in again to kiss you before giving your bottom lip a tug that makes you grunt. "Do you think you can be quiet too, babe?" She challenges affectedly, and you sigh deeply before flipping your positions on the bed with a single movement, stifling any sighs of surprise with a hungry kiss that Wanda matches in the same second.

Wanda likes this more than anything else. Your hands feel right, tracing every line of her body as if to memorize it. Your mouth is hungry but follows her motions. Wanda loves the sounds you make as if you are as affected as she is, even though you are in theory doing all the work.

She figures you have more experience, by the way, you steady your knee between her legs and cover her mouth before she moans loudly to the ceiling, and she tries to think of something other than the desire burning in her system but nothing but how much she loves and trusts you come up.

Your hands pull off her pajama top, and Wanda has to force her face against the pillow when your mouth latches onto one of her breasts. Your tongue teases the nipple, and you bite and suck and Wanda whimpers against the pillowcase, a hot tingling sensation spreading throughout her body. She struggles to throw her hips against you, but you only giggle, forcing her back on the bed by her waist.

"Calm down. There's no rush." You tease, cupping her hardened nipple, and have only half a second to cover Wanda's moan with your hand. "Damn, baby, I love those sounds but you need to be quiet. You don't want to wake up the other people in the house."

She grunts against your hand, a whimper threatening to tear her throat when you continue to grab and stimulate her breasts. "I-I need... more. Babe, please..."

"Shh, it's okay. I'm right here. I'll give you what you need." You meekly assure, as affected as she is. Your hands reach down to pull on her pajama shorts, and once the item comes off, you turn your face to hers.

You kiss her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, and the tip of her nose before brushing your lips together. Wanda is ready to respond to your kiss when you slide your hand between her legs, pressing on her clit and drawing all the air out of her lungs. She chokes, and you kiss her, swallowing her moans that increase as you tease your way inside - first with one finger, and then with two.

The knee that has been applying pressure until now is the one that holds her legs open for you. And when you have stretched it far enough to move in, Wanda digs her nails into your back as she feels two fingers sliding in.

You both moan at the sensation. "Fuck, you're soaking wet." You grunt affected, feeling her pulsing in your fingerprints. "All this for me, my love?"

Wanda whimpers, hiding her face in your collarbone. She feels the stretch, but the pain has long since given way to throbbing pleasure. She needs you to move, or she thinks she's going to explode. And part of her thinks that might be a good thing.

Her hint is to push her hips against your hand, and you follow willingly, removing your fingers only to sink them again, and again, in a slow, intense rhythm as you turn your face to her, to kiss the sounds she lets out with each thrust.

"Baby..." Wanda whimpers, nails digging into your waist. "There's-fuck-something happening." She gasps with her eyes closed. You breathe her an affected laugh, curling your fingers inside her wet intimacy and making her see stars. Her body tenses and her legs twitch. You know exactly what is happening.

"Come for me, pretty girl." You ask with kisses on her jaw, your fingers never failing inside her. "I want to see you fall apart."

Wanda moans in your ear, struggling to breathe as her orgasm washes over her, the blinding pleasure making her clutch at you in desperation, squirming beneath you as she soaks your hand. You pant against her neck, kissing her skin as she calms down.

Once you rise to face her again, you meet Wanda's lazy eyes, and slide your fingers out, enjoying her sigh against your cheek.

You wipe your hand on her thigh, resisting the urge to sink into her again.

"Did you like it?" you ask in a whisper, rubbing your nose against her jaw before kissing her skin a few times. Wanda chuckles, still twitching lightly as she nods. "Was it good for you? Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." She retorts in a false offense, her hands going to your neck. "I feel really good. Thank you."

You smile, kissing her before retorting, " Don't mention it." You whisper in a slightly teasing tone. "Can I sleep here? Just sleep. Or not just sleep, if you prefer."

Wanda laughs, pulling you to lie down on the bed next to her. "You don't even have to ask, darling." She reminds you, kissing you again, and again until you breathe a sigh. Wanda opens her eyes first and brings a hand to your cheek. She traces a heart with her index finger, and you smile, closing your eyes. She swallows dryly. "I love you."

"I know." You respond immediately, wrinkling your nose when she chuckles. You open your eyes at her, and stare at her. "I love you too, Wands." You assure her. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday."

She frowns in surprise at the subject, but quickly shakes her head, providing an assured smile for you. "Don't be, it's not your fault. And you're here now, aren't you? And you gave me an incredible gift..."

"I'm glad you liked the video."

"Oh, I was talking about the sex but sure, the video is cool too." She jokes, giggling at your exclamation of indignation. You move on top of her, teasing her with tickles, and soon you are laughing together.

The noise is enough to wake her mother, and when the hallway light comes on, Wanda pushes you lying on the bed and covers herself with the sheet.

"Honey, are you still awake?" Natalya asks as she enters the room, her expression going from confusion to surprise at seeing you. "Oh, Y/N? I didn't know we had guests..."

"Hey, sorry, Miss Maximoff, I came to bring Wanda's birthday present." You clumsily clarify, trying to look decent despite the crumpled hair and clothes, hyper-conscious that Wanda was without her panties under the covers. The brunette next to you was completely red. "B-but maybe I should go, it's late-"

"Don't be silly, Y/N, it's unsafe this time of night." Natalya cut her off with a nod. "Since you're already here, take the guest room. Have you eaten?"

"Hmm- a few hours ago..."

"Good, we still have a little left over from dinner. Come, come."

"Okay..."

Wanda covered her face with her hand, ignoring your plea for help in your gaze to escape the unexpected dinner with her mother.

–//–

Sobota, 09:43 (Saturday, 09:24 a.m)

"Can I eat this?"

Wanda chuckles at your startled cat expression. You have been so adorable all day, respectful of this symbolic and more intimate version of what for years was a traditional Orthodox Shabbat of her family, that she thinks she is falling even more in love with each of your questions.

"Yes, darling." She assures, moving closer. "You're not Jewish, you can eat whatever you want."

"But I..."

"It's okay, Y/N. It's not disrespectful." She clarifies, pouring some of the grape juice from the table into two glasses. "Besides, you're kind of pale. This is your first time fasting, right?"

You chuckle embarrassedly, accepting the glass of juice. "I didn't want you to feel lonely."

Wanda smiles warmly, placing a hand over your face. "I never feel lonely with you, sweetheart. Besides this, Pietro also did the fasting. You didn't have to starve for me." You sigh, shrugging. Wanda raises her cup, to toast with you. "Eat to your heart's content. Please. You wouldn't want to pass out in front of my family, right?"

You grunt softly. "You've convinced me." You joke, taking a large gulp before focusing on the food table.

Around it, a dozen or so Maximoff family members circle around. Natalya and Wanda look beautiful in their dresses, and despite what Erik would call a blasphemous mix of Wiccan and Jewish cultures in one room, everyone there is having a great time.

Wanda's cousins run around, and her uncles chat. There is no electronic equipment on, and the light comes from candles and the sun itself outside through the wide open windows. In addition to Wanda's family, there are you, Natasha, and Clint, all dressed half-formally for the Maximoff Shabbat.

You leave the food table to sit in an armchair, engaging in conversation with Pietro, and Wanda is trying to pretend she's not stealing glances at you all afternoon.

"You both look happy." It is Natasha who says, coming to get some more juice. Wanda adjusts some napkins on the table, and waves to her friend.

"We are." She says with a smile. "Like, really. I didn't even know it was possible to love someone that much."

Nat smiles affectionately. "I'm glad you two have found each other." She says, making Wanda smile. They look away, at you laughing with Pietro, before your gaze meets Wanda's. You offer her a wink before returning to the conversation, and Wanda looks down to hide the soft pink of her cheeks.

Natasha watches Carol go out onto the balcony to answer the phone, and sighs lightly. "She's thinking about going back to New York." She comments, surprising the brunette next to her. But Nat smiles, "To NYU, Wanda. Carol sent her letters last week. If she gets in, she'd like to go back home."

Wanda steals a glance at you before facing the table again. "Y/N and I sent ours as well. Half of Europe, including Novi Grad. But she doesn't want to go back to New York."

Nat hums in understanding, changing hands off her glass. "Do you guys have any plans for the future?"

Wanda smiles, looking at you for a moment. "I don't know." She says. "Life is good right now. I'd rather enjoy every minute I have with her than grow anxious about what hasn't happened yet."

"That's clever." Natasha flatters with a smile, taking a long sip of juice. "Stop wasting time on me, Wands, go sit with your partner."

Wanda chuckles, hugging Natasha before pinching her nose in affection and turning away to go sit next to you on the couch.

Pietro is excitedly telling about another one of his pranks at school, and she takes the opportunity to slide her hand over yours, intertwining your fingers on your lap.

When one of Wanda's uncles enters the conversation, you divert your attention to her. "Everything okay?" You ask quietly, squeezing her hand gently.

She smiles, resting her face on your shoulder and kissing your cheek. "Everything is perfect."

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #skamverse collection #alt er love series #yellow curtains

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bolontiku · 2 years

Text

"Chasing Pumpkin"

Chapter 1

Characters: Syverson x Reader

Posted: Sept 17th

A/N: this was a work drabble but... anywhooo, I put reader there but the more I worked on this the more OC she got, so I nicknamed her Pumpkin.

There will be at least one update (when idk) but I couldn't get this out of my head for the last week and am now shoving it into yalls faces. Idk where this came from I'm sorry.

Hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, smut (it happens), no under 18 please, there is fluff, surprisingly no angst.. hints at a bad past relationship.

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.

"We have a problem."

The small crowd of men turned to the best man, well second chosen, first having been Syverson himself but he had politely declined knowing the groom's brother had been expecting to get the part.

They waited for the kid to speak, Syv motioning for him to continue, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up; he was ready to finish the night.

"There are wedding crashers."

"What?" The men groaned, discussing over each other until he cleared his throat. "Let's not make a scene, Heather would be disappointed and it's her day, which is almost over, the worst they can do is show up in a few pictures and steal some of the free booze and we all know Davidson's dad is footing the bill for that so-" he shrugged broad shoulders and met the gazes of the five men around him. "Damage control, just make sure nothing goes awry."

The men nodded, maybe that was asking for a bit much from this crowd. They had all served together and he knew they were a bit too close to ask they not get in trouble much less keep complete strangers from causing trouble, they were also a little past drunk, fuck he had had his fair share, leading him to shed his jacket somewhere along the night, but most of the men had after the main ceremony.

The wedding was in the mountains, the venue was huge and it being a vacation spot meant they were not the only ones on the grounds but the hotel had been primarily booked by the family and guests of both bride and groom. There had been a few rooms left though. Everything had been rented and decked out, he himself had managed to get one of the cabins skirting the lake, more comfort and privacy. There were only two days left for the guests to unwind once Heather and Gregory left for their honeymoon tonight.

Civi life was nice, he thought. He was still looking for a place to call home, his dad kept his room available and had gotten him a temporary place at his job. It worked but Syverson still felt as if something was missing…

The fact that he and some of his men stayed in touch was nice too. And then there had been the phone call and invite by Gregory Davidson. Heather was a sweet thing, Syv had nearly carried her off himself. Inviting smile, light chestnut hair, she could not keep her eyes off the idiot that he had saved too many times out in that godforsaken land.

It was good.

The 'crashers' were easy enough to spot, aside from the bride's family, anyone not in the military was easy to spot. Gregory's family had all served. Syverson figured they were vacationing in the same area and probably came upon the end of the party, a small group of four girls that ended up in the mix of dancers, they almost passed for the occasion. Syverson smirked, he had met plenty of girls like them while on leave, harmless really. Yet he spotted one off to the side of the dance floor, watching, and he found himself watching her in turn. Eyes drifting down her full figure and pausing on her ample hips, he let out a low sigh bordering on a growl, what fun he could have with a woman like that.

It had been awhile.

Since you had egged them on, really it had been months of being a responsible adult, buckling down and working. After everything that had happened with your ex you started all over again, moving out of your apartment into a small house and beginning all over again. You had basically disappeared from your friend group and found excuses that were barely passing plausible to not go out.

The fact that you had managed to wrangle time off from work was a fucking miracle, you had told them it wouldn't be possible, to not expect you. They in turn said you no longer loved them. You knew they were bluffing, alligator tears, saying they would never forgive you… you had threatened to quit if your manager didn't give you the time off.

And that is how you found yourself deep in the mountains by a pretty lake. It was your friends' hesitancy though that made you tug them towards the dance music. You couldn't remember the last time you had danced, the girls took after you, quickly joining in on the dance floor. Yet, once they joined, you took a step out, easily falling into the crowd outside and watching them. You guessed it was a wedding once you had taken time to breathe and were grateful no one had spotted you, the men quickly took up with the girls and you kept an eye on them to make sure they didn't get into trouble.

Syverson smiled, arms crossed over his impressive chest; he watched as you leaned forward, eyes bright as the bride leaned into her new husband, he was positive you were a complete stranger yet you looked absolutely overjoyed for his friends, he supposed weddings did that to a person. He didn't know where you came from but he found you absolutely adorable. Making his way to stand beside you he was surprised that you didn't automatically turn to him, he stepped a bit closer, pumpkin. You smelled like pumpkins and vanilla, an odd mixture, but not in a bad way, you smelled good enough to eat.

"Not your scene?"

You nearly leapt out of your skin at the low sultry southern voice next to you. Glancing over you found a broad chest at your eye level and craned your head back to meet the most vibrant blue eyes you had ever had the privilege of meeting. This one was trouble. Your heart skipped and you swung your gaze back to your friends, biting your bottom lip, you had been found out. Of course you had, the girls were dressed well enough to pass, you had gone for comfy jeans and a top that was barely dressy, if you squinted.

"I had a dance," you answered with a shrug of your shoulder.

Syverson hummed, a little curious at your reaction, he liked the southern in your voice but it seemed out of place, not Texan. Maybe you knew he knew you didn't belong? "Friends of the bride or groom?"

You sucked at lying. "I used to date the groom's brother…?"

Syverson nearly lost his composure, coughing to cover his half escaped laugh. Joshua was nearly married to his partner Liam. "Ahh."

You nodded pleased with your lie, glad there was a brother. "Well," you nodded at the couple that were currently waving their goodbyes and escaping the crowd that rushed to see them off. "That is my cue to get on to bed," you would have to text the girls and remind them to check in with you to assure they got back to their rooms safely.

Large hands caught at you and your eyebrows rose as you stared up at the man, Jesus, he was absolute sin on legs… long thick legs, with a thick solid massive body to go with it. Though to be fair most of the men in attendance were fit enough to tackle a bear in these woods and survive to tell the tale. Dark hair that curled, seemingly just growing out, a carefully trimmed and maintained beard, the way he carried himself screamed military. Yet it was his flash of teeth that caught your attention, a mischievous smile, you swallowed as you caught sight of sharp canines. Your will to leave wavered. If you stayed it would be so much trouble.

"You can't leave? It's early yet and I haven't had a dance."

You frowned at him, "there is no way you ain't gotta date."

Syverson smirked down at you, "you confident about that pumpkin?" Oh, the way you looked away, your bottom lip disappearing between your teeth, he was enjoying himself knowing that you wanted nothing but to escape. He gave you no choice, wrapping a large hand around your waist and leading you on the dance floor.

He knew the men were watching, there had been a few offers and he had obliged but had yet to approach anyone. They had teased him and it had ended with a small warning growl from him, the guys laughing, but he couldn't let you escape. Not before he got a taste.

The dance floor had become crowded yet again now that the bride and groom were off, so he tugged you in close as the music continued, fast paced and loud. He was slightly surprised at how quick you were to keep up, following his lead and laughing when he intentionally tugged you closer. Your hands were small in his, you had to stretch on your toes when he pulled them over his shoulders and he still dipped low, easily leading you through the dances.

His smile was brilliant, cologne a little intoxicating, he smelled like woods and whiskey. You could barely keep his intense gaze, it helped that he was a bit taller, fine- much taller. And you took advantage when the movement changed and slid your hands down his broad muscular back, dropping them to his waist before he dragged you in front of him, one thick thigh pressing between yours as he swayed his hips against yours and you felt your face heat as he grinned at you.

It was a good while before the tempo slowed and you nearly escaped him, hurrying from the floor towards the open bar.

Hecaught you glancing around and frowned, "lose somebody?"

You shook your head, "I mean, my friends that came, but I don't have a date."

He leaned against the bar, "is that so?"

The way he dropped his head to the side, bright eyes softening as he looked at you made you feel things you weren't ready to feel. The bartender slid your order towards you and you smiled into your drink as he served your new friend a whiskey. "Syverson, though most call me Syv."

You blinked, a little surprised you hadn't even asked yet and introduced yourself in return. "I should be getting back-"

"Let me walk you then," he offered, straightening and tucking your arm in the crook of his giving you no chance to deny him. Although being beside him made you feel tiny, it was a feeling you rarely got to relish in and you took it, feeling a bit greedy.

You let him lead you from the crowded area, a few of his friends shouting at him as he waved them off. You found yourself talking as you walked, a nervous habit, the cabins had been taken for the day so your group had to find rooms in the hotel, but in the morning you would be headed out for them. You and your friends lived two hours away and just needed the time to get away, this had been perfect.

"Then you're here for the weekend with them?" You kept silent knowing your answer would oust you, "nothing to be worried about you and your friends are safe."

"What gave me away?"

"Joshua is dating Liam three years now," he answered honestly without pause, looking up at the night sky. Not like home, but damn near close enough. He liked your voice, the calm you seemed to radiate seeped into him.

You couldn't help but laugh at his answer, eyes closing as you held onto him to keep from tripping over your own feet. You snorted and laughed a little harder.

Syverson stopped and couldn't help but laugh along with you, your laughter contagious.

"I- it's jus-" you shook your head and wiped at the tears that escaped. "Of COURSE!" You paused when he reached up and swiped his thumb over your cheek, hand cupping your jaw. You reached up and caught his wrist, your gaze held by his mesmerizing one, you scrambled for a change in conversation. "You haven't told me anything, what do you do? You're no longer in the military huh?"

He tilted his head and pursed his lips, you had a habit of doing that, steering the conversation away as if you were trying to keep him at arm's length, it made him want. He wanted to listen to you go on about your friends and your work, listen to the way you sighed softly while holding onto his forearm. Watch the way your eyes crinkled at the edges as if you laughed all the time, but it seemed that it had been awhile since you'd had the opportunity to do just that. He wanted to give you that, he wanted to give you more than that. "Be honest, you the leader of your little girl group?"

"I take offense to that sir! We are women!"

Syverson watched as you pulled away and placed your hands on your thick hips right before pointing at him, he liked your hips, he liked dancing and having your hips sway and grind against his. Actually he liked all your thick curves, especially when they were pressed up against him, all that softness begging to be kissed and nipped at. He wondered if he could coax you back there? Get you to do that a little more. "You didn't answer…"

The way his voice dropped, admonishing you, he must have figured you out. You smiled at him taking a step back as he stepped towards you, the wooden planks beneath your feet shifting as the two of you moved, "where have you brought me? I thought you were walking me back to the hotel? Are you a serial killer?" You asked, narrowing your eyes at him accusingly.

"Just now wondering about that?" He watched your eyes flicker around, though you tucked your arms behind you, "no, I am not a serial killer." He had just wanted to listen to you talk some more.

"A serial killer would deny it."

"Any experienced killer would know to not let anyone see us leave together. And didn't you text with your friends not a second ago?"

You huffed and turned away from him, the lake spread out in front of you, the narrow boardwalk opening up to a small dock and noticing the two of you were truly alone you decided to change tactics. He was someone you could end up liking and that made him dangerous. You toed your shoes off, "let's have some fun," it would be fun and you could keep from answering anymore questions.

You were steering the conversation to what made you feel safe, he had figured that much out. You talked about things and people in your life but not yourself. It both drew him in and irritated him and he had known you for less than two hours. "Something fun?" He asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest.

You nodded, smirking at him. "Yes, it's my vacation and I am allowed to do something fun, maybe a little bad."

"Is it a vacation if you live here?"

You huffed, hands going to your jeans, you watched those bright eyes widen before he looked around. "I might live in the state but I work hard and hardly play, it's time I think."

"By skinny dipping?" He could hardly speak when your jeans dropped to the wooden planks underfoot, pretty dark red lace panties making his mouth go dry and he took a step toward you, fingers itching to touch.

"Skinny dippin'?" You shot the word back at him, the spot was secluded enough, you reached down and pulled the bottom of your shirt up and over your head, skin pimpling at the cool breeze and not the way those bright eyes darkened, "that what they call it? Back home it was called chunky dunkin'," you stopped, standing before him in your skimpy underclothes, watching the way those bright eyes darkened and dilated, he had turned into a predator spotting his prey.

This you could work with, this was more natural than any other feeling in the world. Pure physical reaction, you didn't need him looking at you softly, but this way? Hunger in his eyes as they scanned down your body before jerking back up? This was comfortable and empowering all wrapped up together and this was addicting.

His heart skipped as you reached back, tongue peaking out quickly as your bra came off next, it took him all of five seconds to get undressed, by the time he managed to nearly strangle himself with his damned dress shirt you were in the water, panties laying next to your discarded clothes. "Holy fuck," he breathed out, you were a dangerous woman, before stepping off the dock into the dark water.

You cried out as his larger body crashed into yours, warmth chasing away the cold of the lake as you wrapped yourself around him; thick corded muscles under your fingertips as he tugged you into him, lips searching for yours. You let him, your own answering his demands, giving in with a small bite.

He growled, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before swiping his tongue over it, licking in and swallowing the soft gasp that left you. You were so damned soft, with a quiet wildness that he had peeked as he had slowly begun to know you, dragging a few secrets out of you. There was no way in hell he was going to let you get away.

You squeaked as he gripped your ass in one large hand, laughter spilling out of you as he kissed just under your chin. "Gettin' a little frisky aren't we soldier?"

"No longer in the service remember? And I will take what you are willing to give, no more than allowed ma'am, just say the word and I'll behave."

"Behave? Now where's the fun in behavin'?" You asked as you pulled back, staying in his hold, just enough to meet his mesmerizing gaze.

He leaned in, giving you ample time to pull away, you hesitated, fingers curling on his shoulders. There was something there, the way you held yourself in his arms, a hesitancy, he recognized it. There was pain and distrust you hid behind a practiced smile, the way you kept things lighthearted, "ah, pumpkin, you can trust yourself with me…"

The sincerity cut through, making your throat tighten, you wanted to believe him, there was something in him that broke through your carefully constructed walls. "It's deeper than I thought-" you whispered against his lips, allowing a little vulnerability to show through. It wasn't a lie, swimming wasn't your strong suit and you had come out further than you had anticipated, but that wasn't really what you meant.

It was the most honest you had been with him and he wanted nothing more than to protect you, from whatever or whomever had hurt you before. He wanted you to know that with him you wouldn't need to be afraid. "Just hold on to me."

You whimpered as he crashed his lips against yours, hands slipping up into the curls at the nape of his neck, curls that were just growing back. You let him drag you closer, kissing him as fiercely as he did you. Dropping your hips, pressing closer to him and smiling against his lips as he grunted softly, feeling him press up along you.

"Fuck sweetheart-"

"Kinda hoping for that," you dropped your head to his shoulder as he laughed, rich thick laughter, which carried across the water.

"Then hold on good." It was his idea of a warning.

You couldn't help the moan that escaped you as he pressed into you without hesitation, large hands on your hips guiding you, urging you to take what you wanted as he pressed hungry kisses to your shoulder and neck, teeth marking your skin, you were tight around his cock, skin warm against his own, your chest pressed against his, nails dragging into his back as you drove your hips into his, taking him deeper.

He cursed as he watched your eyes flutter shut, attempting to stifle any noise by biting your bottom lip, brows drawing together in concentration. You were quite simply intoxicating, he was drunk on every little breath and whimper that escaped you, the feel of you as he pressed in and dragged out achingly slow and addicting. Better than any whiskey he had ever imbibed, you laughed softly, it turned into a delicious moan that he swallowed as he quickened the pace before reaching down between the two of you.

The moment his thumb swiped over your sensitive nub your grip tightened, legs tensing up as fire lit through your veins, you muffled your cry by biting down on his shoulder.

It drove him over the edge, your stifled cry, the way you tightened around him even more, body coiling and tensing as he drove in, seating himself completely with every thrust into you until he came, buried deep inside you.

He got you back to the dock, a little miffed as he pulled out and kept his eyes on you as the both of you dragged on your clothes. It took little to persuade you to come back to his cabin, closer than the hotel, where he was quick to tug your clothes back off.

There was his intense gaze as he pressed you gently into the warm bed, eyes locked on yours as he knelt between your legs and dragged his tongue through your folds slow and torturous. You dropped your head back, hands curling in the bedding as he continued, his beard burning into the skin of your thighs, a surprised cry escaping you as he drove two thick fingers into you, your hips twisting and jerking up, seeking more.

Fuck he was damned hard as you writhed under him, chest rising and falling as he took his time, dragging deliscious moans out of you. Your hips bucked up and Syverson planted one large hand on your tummy to hold you in place until you let go and came undone, body going limp. It wasn't until then that he crawled over you and pressed his thick cock into you slowly, filling you inch by impossible inch.

He watched as your eyes darkened, pressed kisses to your lips as you whimpered and pulled your arms around his neck as he finally seated himself completely in you.

"Syverson! Ahhnnngh!" You met his gaze, eyes unfocused as he pulled out and slowly drove in one hand dragging your leg around his waist as he groaned softly above you. You lifted your hips to meet his, his cock stretching you impossible wide, his thighs pressing up into the back of yours and forcing your legs open wide, tongue seeking yours as he planted himself so deep you were a little afraid you wouldn't be able to escape him.

He wanted you, more than just tonight, he wanted your little gasps, your moans, the way you smiled so softly. He wanted to wake up to the smell of pumpkin and vanilla, listen to you laugh and learn everything there was to know about you; so he drove in a little rougher, kissed a little harder, he wanted to imprint himself in your heart so that if you disappeared there would be no other, but he had another few days with you. He had been planning on leaving after tonight, but then you had come along.

"Syverson?" You gasped, tightening your legs around his waist and he knew with one look you were close again.

"Atta girl, that's right, need you to come all over my cock sweetheart." And you did, his low groan fueling the fire within you, your walls clenching down on him. It took him a few more thrusts, before he came, pulling out reluctantly and only when he was soft before dropping to the bed beside you.

He pulled you in close, you wrapped around him dropping your head to his shoulder, "glad you decided to crash the wedding…" he hummed, eyes closing with the weight of exhaustion.

You laughed softly, "me too," you answered, watching as he drifted off to sleep. You laid there enjoying the delicious burn between your legs, you would be sore for a couple days, and you hadn't planned this. It had been so long you had gotten carried away and it would be a good memory.

The bed barely shifted when you moved, yet a big beefy arm wrapped around you and Syverson dragged you back against him, beard scratching your sensitive skin, voice low and gravely, "mmmnn, stay, don't go, stay here pumpkin."

You tensed, heat hammering against your ribcage. Pumpkin. He had called you that a few times already.

"It'll be okay, I promise…"

He was dangerous. You had known it. The way he watched you, his smile, how he kept you close, it was all dangerous and you had kept yourself safe for so long. You took a moment, leaning back into him, savoring the warmth radiating from him, reaching back and running your fingers through his beard.

But you had to keep protecting yourself, slipping out from under him proved a little tricky but you managed, whispering that you had to use the restroom, you studied him as you dressed quietly memorizing his face, and then you slipped out the door.

#chasing pumpkin #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #syverson

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