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evielmostdefinitely · 5 months

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a hazy shade of winter |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: wedding nuptials and coriolanus' upcoming inauguration, leads to press.

my first work lol <3 reader's surname is "duke" for the series. i picture the duke family being a rothschild similar type if that makes sense???

contains: possessive snow, nothing too graphic, he's manipulative and a little dark. established relationship. mentions of corio's mom. alludes to smut but none.

Coriolanus stared back at his own reflection, fastening the buttons to his shirt. A nicer fabric, Tigris still selected it but did not have to mend it together like before. No, now the Snow’s were back in power, still climbing that ladder of socialites and success- thanks to you.

A small rapping on the door pulled his attention. “Just a moment.” Corio huffed, looking at the clock. Flickerman’s producer said nine sharp, he still had twenty minutes.

The rapping didn’t stop, following again, heavier this time. Corio’s spine straightened, icy with fear. His mind raced with possibilities- a rebel outside the door, here to kill him; or perhaps it was the guards, they’d found the guns he threw in the river years ago and we're here for him too.

Corio reached for his own weapon, slinking to the door, peeking under the crack. Two white heels.

“Corio,” Your voice whispered, a hint of a giggle. “Let me in, Corio.”

Coriolanus relaxed, setting the weapon down, tucked under his jacket. The door opened, you in your pristine white outfit, the sapphire fixture on your ring finger. “What are you doing?” Corio scanned the hall. “You’re supposed to be in your dressing room.”

“Tigris finished with me.” You waved him off, slipping under his arm into his own dressing room. “She went to join my parents in the audience, and I wanted to see you.” You hum, eyes rolling down his frame.

Corio scoffed lightly, shutting the door. “This is improper.”

“I think they’ll forgive us, Corio.” You giggle. “We are married.” Your hand laid gently against his chest, smoothing out a crease on his collar, engagement ring sparkling even in the low light of the room.

Corio’s hand found yours, admiring the ring himself. His mother’s ring turned yours, one of the few items he had left of hers- that they hadn’t lost or sold to stay afloat. He added the halo of diamonds. After all, he was marrying into the Duke family, he needed it to be flashy- to be worthy.

“We’re not married yet, my love.” Corio muttered, thumb swiping over the ring. “Still two more sleeps.”

“And a press conference,” You sighed, leaning into his soft touch. “And a press tour.”

It had been your father’s idea. Coriolanus was to be President come the new term, and since marrying into Panem’s wealthiest, the press tour to each District seemed fitting. The communication was less and less now, Corio wanted to keep it that way, but have them still feel involved. Your father loved the idea.

“Mmm, but a solo press tour.” Corio hummed, nose brushing against yours gently. “Just us for weeks, days on the train. By ourselves.” His voice rapeseed, tone dropping to that dark octave that left you squirming, tummy flipping with excitement.

“We won’t really be alone.” You pouted, lip jutting in a petulant sort of sulk. It made Corio’s lip twitch. “There will be the peacekeepers and guards and Tigris and-”

“-But we’ll have a whole carriage to ourselves. A private one. I’ve made sure of it.” Coriolanus nodded, the pad of his thumb brushing over your lip. “Just for us. A honeymoon before we come back.”

You smiled softly, hands raking up the soft fabric of his shirt, careful not to bunch or wrinkle the fabric- you knew how much he hated that. Corio’s hands found your waist, pulling you into him, lips slotting over yours. He always took the lead, and you’d let him, his domineering personality never settling even in moments of intimacy.

Two sharp knocks pulled the two of you away, Coriolanus pausing rigidly. “Come in,” You called, your hand moving respectfully to his arm, smoothing out your skirt.

“Ah, the love birds.” Lucky Flickerman grinned. “See, Juno, I told you they’d be together, and it looks like they’re decent.”

Corio’s face swelled with heat, mouth settling in a fine, thin line. Once he was sworn into oath, he’d have his tongue cut out for that vulgar comment. Your hand squeezed his bicep lightly, soothingly.

“So, I wanted to give you the run down before we are live on the air to all of Panem.” Lucky grinned, you knew he was smug at his rising fame. “President Snow and the First Lady… Do you want me to address you as Snow or Duke?”

“Snow.” Corio hissed before you could respond. His hand was firm on your waist, pulling you possessively into him. “She is a Snow, now.”

Lucky blinked, awkwardly cutting his eyes to you. “Right. So President and First Lady Snow, we’ll talk about the wedding- the dress, the ring, the proposal, the details, the guest list. Really lean into that, ok? Get the viewers excited for the district press tour after.”

You nodded, Lucky’s droning instructions a blur to you. Your eyes caught sight of your and Coriolanus in the mirror. How tall he stood next to you, proud and boasted- powerful. He always had his chin held high, looking down his nose at others. You were just glad he had lessened the way he’d glare down at you, traded it in for a softer side you weren’t sure you’d ever see.

His hand stayed on the small of your back, respectfully, but holding that same ownership, leading you through the small studio. “You look beautiful.” Corio whispered, pushing a loose strand of hair back into place, tucking it behind your ear.

You blushed under his praise, looking down at your white kitten heels. “Don’t do that.” Corio frowned, hand pressing into the middle of your spine. “Stand up, darling. Don’t hide from them. Let them know.”

You followed him out, hand in hand, waving to the studio audience under blinding lights. Since the success of the Hunger Games, the donors- your family included- had poured in money to have the studio revamped. Something nice, more enticing. Your father and mother sat next to Tigris. Your fathers eyes were narrowed, watchful in nearly a predatory sense, a warning to the both of you.

“Mr. and Mr. Snow,” Lucky grinned, a toothy smile that dazzled under the lights. “Or so it will be soon, yes? The wedding is…”

“In two days.” Coriolanus nodded, shoulders squared, eyes sparkling, his hand rested on your knee.

“Marvelous, just marvelous. And what a beautiful couple they are, aren’t they?” Lucky turned to the audience, nodding at their applause.

You felt hot, skin boiling under the harsh lights, under your father and Corio’s even harsher stares. The pressure to not falter, not even for a moment, was making you dizzy. Do not stutter, sit up straight, smile.

“And don’t forget, President Snow and his First Lady will be making their way to each of the Districts out there before the Inauguration and of course, before the fifteenth Hunger Games.” Lucky called exaggeratedly, clapping with his cards with the audience. “Don’t forget to join us for the reapings, it’s only a month away, folks. And as always, Panem today, Panem tomorrow, and Panem forever.”

A pause and it was done. The lights went up, producers nodding, pulling out screens and wires. You looked to Coriolanus, but his attention was elsewhere.

“That was amazing.” Tigris greeted you with a warm smile. “You did not have to mention me as your designer. I told you to say the company-”

“-The company didn’t design my dress, you did.” You nodded, squeezing her arm affectionately. “And I’m not letting that bitter, miserable woman get the credit that you deserved, Tigris.”

Tigris beamed, hugging you briefly, before your father made his slow approach, your mother on his arm. He took slow, calculated steps, looking nearly bored, unimpressed. It made Corio’s heart race- he wanted to mimic it, perfect it to have the same reaction.

“My girl,” Your father gave a half smile, lips curling in nearly a snarl. “You did wonderful.”

“Thank you,” You nodded politely. “I was afraid I spoke too much.”

“Nonsense,” Your mother waved you off lightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You did marvelous.” Her eyes cut over to Coriolanus. “You as well, dear.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Duke.” Corio nodded, hands clasped behind his back respectfully.

“Are you happy, boy?” Your father looked at Corio, eyes beady and sharpened. “Excited for the wedding? The inauguration?” It was no secret your father and his pull were behind the election, Corio knew that.

“Of course,” Corio nodded, his hand finding yours gently, squeezing it. “I’m overjoyed, Mr. Duke. Moreso for the wedding, of course, but the inauguration as well. It will be hard to replace President Ravinstill but-”

Your father lifted his hand. “Save it, boy. This isn’t a political rally, you’ve already won.” He scoffed, shaking his head. You didn’t miss the way Coriolauns stiffened, his grip tightening on your hand. “As long as you keep my daughter happy, then you have my support.”

“Thank you, sir.” Corio forced out a smile through clenched teeth.

“The rehearsal dinner is tomorrow. At the Trinket Estate Gardens, dear.” Your mother nodded at you, like you’d forget.

“I’ll see you then.” You hugged her briefly. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, darling girl.” Your father hugged you, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

He shook Corio’s hand firmly, a shake and a head nod before they were both whisked off, chatting to his other friends who showed. Corio wished he would have introduced him to a few, helped him build a rapport that way. There would be time, he reminded himself.

“Tigris,” You held Corio’s arm, craning around him towards his cousin on his other arm. “The white rose was a lovely touch.” You smiled, looking down at your corsage.

“Oh, that was Coriolanus’ idea.” Tigris hummed, looking at the blonde next to her. “He wanted you to have that.”

You beamed, looking up at your fiance. “You wanted me to have it?”

“I thought it was a nice touch.” Corio hummed, glancing down at you. “Thought you would enjoy it.”

“I do,” You mutter, lifting his hand to yours, lips brushing across his knuckles. Normally, he’d scold you for doing it in public. He was against any signs of PDA, a sign of weakness, he said. But he allowed it, even blushing from underneath his stiff collar.

“Save the I do’s for tomorrow.” Tigris grinned playfully at you. “What are you doing on your last night as a Duke? Going to District Two?”

Coriolanus glared at her, jaw set firmly. You shook your head lightly. “Packing.” You sighed. “We leave from the reception straight to the train.”

“Oh, I can help you-”

“-That’s alright.” You shake your head politely. “It’s just a few things. Sleepwear, toiletries- minimal things. But thank you.”

Tigris nodded back, pulling from Coriolanus gently. “I’ll wait for you in the car?”

“Go ahead without us.” Corio nodded. “We have to speak to a few sponsors after.”

Tigris nodded, waving goodbye to the both of you politely. You stepped into Corio’s dressing room, smoothing out your skirt. “We have to speak to sponsors?” You hummed, reaching for your zipper. “I thought you already did that?”

“I did.” Corio’s tone was chilling, clicking the lock to the door behind you. You stilled, eyes catching his gaze through the mirror.

Coriolanus stepped towards you, slow, calculated, with heavy footsteps. He grinned, satisfied, at how you shivered. His hands moved yours, unzipping your dress slowly. You stayed still, watching him for any sign of what was to come. You knew he’d never hurt you, purposefully, never risk what would happen if he laid a hand on you. Still, Corio was unpredictable- you hated the way it excited you.

“I just wanted a moment alone with my wife.” Corio’s breath was hot on the shell of your ear, shuddering under his touch when he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, exposing you. Bruising love bites on your chest from the night before. You wondered if his back still bore your long scratches from where you’d clawed and raked at his skin.

“‘M not your wife yet, Corio.” You met his gaze, rounded eyes that had his cock twitching. “Still another two sleeps.” You repeated his words from earlier, the tiniest grin on your lips.

“How do you want to spend your last night as a Duke, my love?” Corio’s lips ghosted over the skin of your cheek, hands gripping your waist.

“With you.” You whispered, leaning back against him. “I want to spend it with you, Coriolanus.”

Corio grinned, salacious and satisfied, fingers splaying over your jaw, holding you while he kissed you, slowly, passionately. Your pristine dress was on the floor, his hands in your hair, legs tangled around his waist while he melted you with every hot kiss.

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byuljoonie · 8 months

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moonlight // knj

I’m sorry baby I’m just really hot…

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: one shot, slight angst, fluff, growing tension, boyfriend material, extreme smut, desperation, succubus intentions…

word count: 5k+ (sorry)

warnings: mentions of mature topics, spit, namjoon driving lmao, thigh humping bcs desperate, throat goat, dom!sub, dom rm!sub reader, alcohol consumption, probably a good amount of swearing, post-gym namjoon, grocery store activities, slight car play, teasing, oral, summer night, riding, overstimulation, a little masochism

summary: namjoon promised to go to the grocery store with you after the gym (extended ending on ao3)

note: just had what cody ko and noel would call a “power thought.” I literally just had a spark of inspiration bcs it’s really hot in the south right now and Namjoon’s vogue cover is to die for. enjoy and feel free to check out any of my playlists while reading. Sorry for any little mistakes. gonna make a tag list after I post 10 works! -ash (wrote this draft a few months ago so it might be slightly more extreme than expected.)

My reflection stared back at me, tracing the movement of the cloth against my skin. The long slit of the black fabric starts by the left knee and leaves an opening at the bottom of the dress. My manicured feet sat firmly against the hardwood bedroom floor, grounding me away from my persistent thoughts. I grabbed my sunglasses from the stand mounted on the cream walls and turned swiftly on my heels. Abandoning the mirror with a grimace on my face.

I loved this dress very much, the long sleeves light and airy protecting me from the harsh summer rays. The way it hugs my figure is like someone familiar. The same someone that bought this dress for me. He crossed my mind once more sending another surge of anger through me.

Namjoon promised to come along to the grocery store with me today but he’s been at the gym for almost 2 hours now. He said he’d only be gone an hour but an hour quickly turned to two, now I’m dressed and past ready to go. I hated going to crowded stores, at this rate we’ll never beat the after-work rush.

I sat on the bed putting on my anklet he gifted me for our 3 year anniversary. Yet another gift that I’m wearing today, being spoiled ruining my plans of holding a grudge tonight on our date. I slipped on some black socks and made my way towards the door. Listening as the front door swings open with a beep of the automatic keypad.

I excitedly descend the stairs, my black dress sweeping the floor behind me beautifully like a wedding gown flowing in the summer breeze. The second step I’ve already failed at trying to be mad at him.

“Baby! Where you at?” He says deep voice roaring through our apartment. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs almost running into his chest. He smiled at me taking in all of my body, returning to my eyes after his brief but thorough inspection.

“Right here NAMjoon,” I stated putting extra emphasis on his surname. I watched as his chest rose and fell with every breath, his skin glistened with sweat. Tan skin accentuating his muscular frame, my mouth parted slightly at the sight. He looked heavenly I almost lost my composure.

“I’m sorry I took so long Y/N my trainer wouldn’t let me leave until the workout was complete,” he said walking towards me. Smirking at the way my eyes followed his every movement.

“You look so gorgeous Princess, this dress is perfect for you,” he said pulling me into a tight embrace. Grabbing a handful of my ass as he reached over to rest his chin on my shoulder. I yelp in surprise at the sudden groping, melting into his body and giving up on being angry. I wanted to take him right now but first, we need food or we’ll be eating out for another week before we have time to shop again.

“Whatever Joon go shower we have to leave as soon as possible and you’re stinky,” I said pulling away from him and then standing on my tippy toes to kiss him quickly. He kissed me back beginning to deepen it before I push him away again. I give him a knowing look and bid him goodbye as I walk to the kitchen to make him a snack to eat in the car. The store was about a 25 minute drive from us but it was worth it for the produce.

I grab a few ingredients from the fridge to make him a nice sandwich with an everything bagel. I prepared everything quickly and put it in a small ziplock bag next to my purse. I heard Namjoon exiting our bedroom 15 minutes later, humming a sweet tune in his beautiful vibrato.

“Come on babe I already have the car warming up,” he said grabbing my hand and lightly pulling me next to him. He’s wearing a light brown shirt with a pair of distressed blue jeans. Looking as handsome as always I drink in his appearance for eternity. We walked to the elevator quietly, Namjoon tapping away on his phone until the elevator doors opened to be let us out.

As we walk towards our car I begin to sweat a little, the setting Sun still scorching my skin like its’ noonday twin. I started to speed up a little pulling Namjoon along so I could feel the relief of the A/C sooner than later. He swung the door open for me making sure my dress wasn’t in the way before shutting the door.

Namjoon jumps in quickly closing the door before the heat could penetrate the closed air. It still wasn’t cool enough in here, with the sun beaming directly on our vehicle the A/C felt like lukewarm hell. I let down the window hastily fanning myself as we pulled out of the parking lot.

After I few minutes of fanning and desperation, I looked over and behold a sight that would make any woman yearn in an instant. A head of sweat moved swiftly down the expanse of Namjoons golden jaw. Resting at the base before dropping down onto his slightly exposed shoulder. His lips rose colored from his unconscious biting. I wanted to reach over and swallow him whole, I crave him so bad I can’t help but squeeze my legs together at the thought.

I was so caught up in my sinful thoughts I didn’t notice him glance over at me. A twinkle in his eye set off the indication of a torturous idea. Namjoon placed his large hand on my thigh, causing me to tense up instantly. Before I could utter a word he reached over my leg and grabbed his sandwich from my lap.

His smile turning into a stifled laugh as he continued to stare straight ahead. I must have let out the small noise I was holding in because he seemed to know exactly what would tick me off right now. I turned my attention towards the windshield trying to focus on the passing cars and people watching. Then an idea popped into my head.

I pull out my phone and open the group chat I have with our 6 best friends. I stop and think of what to type before another brilliant idea is brought to me. I pose provocatively making sure my cleavage was “present,” in my photo. I took a couple of pictures, some with sunglasses and some staring at Namjoon. He patiently drove, oblivious to my sly intentions. He hummed along to one of his favorite songs looking over at me to shoot me a wink.

I giggled and looked away almost feeling bad for what I’m going to do. Yet not bad enough because I went ahead and sent the photos with a message. “Should I post these on my close friends? I don’t know if I look good enough today…” I said ending with a sad face. It didn’t take long for our phones to simultaneously vibrate. Secretly glancing over at Namjoon, I unlock my phone knowing he can’t check his until we’re in the lot.

Hobi ddaeng: You look great !! Of course, you should post it, Namjoon talk some sense into her.

Me: He’s driving right now. I didn’t ask for his opinion yet I want to hear you guys first :)

Park Chanel: ooooh…I see…

Park Chanel: If you don’t post the pictures I will! Wow wow you look beautiful. Nice..dress and necklace.

I looked down at my neck realizing I didn’t wear a necklace today. Oh Jimin you’re evil Namjoon is going to kill me and you. I laughed a little at his crude behavior and read the next incoming message.

Yoongi: You’re gonna get hit Jimin *laughing emojis*

Me: mmm just because you guys said so I will post it hehe

Before I could read the next response I felt the car shake as we pulled into the grocery store parking lot. I quickly went on my sns and posted two of the pictures on my close friends. Picking the two the boys liked the most. I was starting to get nervous, I know how possessive he is with me and I’m the same but I want revenge for making me frustrated.

Namjoon pulls into an open parking spot almost near the front of the bustling building. I take off my seatbelt with a click grabbing my purse from my lap and swinging the door open. I wanted to beat Namjoon inside before he could read the texts and catch me. As I hurriedly closed the door I saw him reading the messages, jaw tensing with rage.

I hear him call my name from the car and a slam of a car door followed behind the sound of his sexy voice. His long legs easily closing the space between us as he grabbed my hand, squeezing it while looking at me. I put my shades on ignoring his questions. Stroking the back of his hand as I never break eye contact with the automatic sliding doors.

“Can you get us a cart pet?” I froze at the nickname. He knows what he’s doing, and I don’t plan on breaking that fast. I let go of his hand briefly going to grab the first cart I saw. Cleaning the handle before strutting back over to my boyfriend as he eyed me intensely.

I let him grab the cart from me but not before pulling him down to whisper in his ear. “Anything for you Daddy..” I say in a hushed tone. Making sure to leave a kiss on his sensitive earlobe as I pull away.

I walk forward trying not to laugh at the silly nickname I used to get him riled up. He trailed behind me, failing to hide his blatant staring at my ass. We make our way down the aisles trying to speed up the process as people begin piling into the store.

“Joonie baby I can’t reach this,” I said struggling to reach the box of goldfish on the top shelf. He moved over to me in a flash, pressing his front flush against my back. I heard his breathing stop as I purposely pushed my ass against him.

“This one, this one, this one, or this one…” He trailed off purposely picking the wrong boxes to tease me. He finally grabbed the correct item and tossed it in the cart. Walking away as if he didn’t leave me speechless and flustered on the cracker aisle.

I follow him to the snack aisle after grabbing a few bottles of wine and champagne for our date tonight. The empty aisle presents another opportunity for me to assert my dominance. I walk over to the chips looking at them inquisitively as if I’m mocking a character.

“Honey do you want this kind or this kind?” I said while bending over. Making sure to sway slowly as I wait for an answer. “Babe? Which-“ I was cut short as a hand firmly grabbed my ass causing me to yelp in surprise and sit up straight.

“I want this one right here,” he growled in my ear. I turned around and looked at him, watching his eyes darken with hunger. “Let’s get outta here yeah?” He questioned looking into my eyes. I nodded furiously ready to exit this hell and get home to what’s waiting.

We race to the self-checkout line, scanning and bagging groceries like a 5000-dollar prize is awaiting the winner. Namjoon grabbed my hand after he paid and pulled me along with him as he pushed the basket with his other hand. He was so warm, skin clear and kissable. I wanted to pull him aside and cover him in kisses, not caring about the people around us.

Namjoon unlocks the car as we stop beside it. I move to walk around the cart but he stops me in my tracks. “Let me help you get the groceries in the car love,” I say looking confused at his sudden maneuver.

Unexpectedly, he opened the car door and motioned for me to get inside. I insisted again that I help but he gave me a look that I know better than to disobey. I got inside praying I didn’t anger him too much. I set myself up for this one, didn’t I? It’ll be worth it in the end right? Maybe I went a little too far with the texts but I can’t help but shiver with anticipation. I pull out my phone to text Jimin about my bad decisions.

Me: I think I fucked up lol

Park Chanel: you’re welcome ;)

Namjoon slams the trunk shut causing me to jump in surprise. I close my phone sitting it in the cup holder beside me. He gets in the car, jaw still tense as he turns the key in the ignition. I thought about breaking the silence but the tension was so thick a knife would recoil at the slight pressure of penetration. Namjoon puts on his seatbelt then proceeds to look at me.

“ I don’t want to hear another peep from you Y/N..” he starts lowly not breaking eye contact for a second. “You’ve done enough for tonight, if you do anything stupid I swear I will pull the car over and take you on the side of the road. I promise you wouldn’t want that.” He deadpans and looks away from me, pulling out of the parking spot. I utter a soft okay and prepare to behave the rest of the way home.

I slide my palm over to his free hand resting on his thigh. I stare firmly at him, giving my best puppy eyes in return. He doesn’t look away from the road but I watch as his lip twitches into a small smile. He grabs my hand, rubbing his large thumb over the back of my hand. In love can’t begin to describe how I truly feel about this man.

I laugh as he tries to sing along to Smoke Sprite, raspy voice blending well with Soyoon. I rap along to his part of the song, stealing the spotlight and making him bop his head in excitement. The song finishes and we’re about 10 minutes from our place. I check my phone and see a text from our group chat, making the recent grocery store escapades flash through my mind. I want him to touch me again, I like it when he’s desperate and needy for me.

Another terrible idea floods my brain accompanied by a mound of outcomes. I suddenly let go of Namjoons hand causing him to spare me a confused expression. A smile graced my face as I turned my body forward, grabbing the slit of my dress and opening it over my legs. I let my left hand run down the front of my dress, stopping at my panties hesitating even.

I slide my hand under the fabric immediately coming in contact with the soft skin. I dip my fingers and get to work. I began letting out dramatized moans and grunts. I moan Namjoon's name and furiously let my hand lose control. I looked over and saw Namjoon gripping the steering wheel in frustration. Sweat adorned his angelic face, veins prominent in his hands. I let this go on until we reached the last stop light near our apartment building. I sat up and closed my legs acting like I didn’t just masturbate next to my boyfriend in a moving car.

We pull into the lot entering our designated spot. Namjoon quietly turned off the engine and released a sigh that he seemed to have been holding in. He looks absolutely pissed and it’s so sexy. His erratic breathing only made me wetter by the second.

“You’re going to follow my instructions carefully. I don’t want to hear a word from you or tonight will be your worst fucking nightmare got it?” He questioned angrily letting his eyes trail over my body once more. I nodded too scared to move an inch more.

“Go upstairs, get undressed, wait in the middle of the bed. If you’re not in that spot when I come up there in 15 minutes, you better pray you can stop time.” He seethes hotly. “Yes sir,” I say scared and ready for more. He gets out of the car walks around and opens my door. He grabs my purse from my lap holding eye contact, his brown almond eyes dark and predatory.

“Go.” He states motioning for me to exit the vehicle. I get out swiftly, grabbing my purse from his hand and sprinting towards the entrance of the building. The elevator took an eternity to bring me to our floor. I ran to the door and shakily put in the passcode, messing up a few times before it finally let me in.

My shoes are off in a flash, I leave my purse by the door as well abandoning my shades on the counter as I run past to the stairs. I burst into our room, slipping my dress off. Almost fell as I grabbed my silk lavender robe hanging on the wall. I threw it on and climbed onto the bed. My anklet glowed in the natural light seeping through the parted curtains. The front door swung open slamming against the wall.

I heard shuffling, cabinets opening and closing for 10 more minutes before his heavy footsteps echoed through our hallway. He walked into the room eyeing me before raising an eyebrow. I started to sweat nervously hoping I did what I was told.

“Who told you to put on your robe Y/N?” He questioned in amusement. He slowly walked over to me, grabbing each side of the robe and ripping it open. He discarded it onto the floor and stalked around the bed, he stood at the front motionless. “On your knees in front of me, now.” He said and I immediately left the bed. I swung my legs over the side and dropped to my knees.

Namjoon watched me through lidded eyes as I crawled over to him on my knees, stopping directly in front of his growing bulge. I was quick to unlatch the hook of his buckle, the metal of the belt clinging as it hit the hardwood floors.

“I’ll excuse the robe mishap since you’re so eager to taste me doll face,” he said reaching down to grab my chin. A loud moan echoed through the room as he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. He looked down at me, motioning his head back as if telling me to open up. I did as I was told and watched as he spit in my mouth and closed it back. He pulled his pants down and kicked them to the side.

“Good girl, now eat.” He said intensely. He hummed in satisfaction, eyes never leaving the way I wrapped my fingers around his cock and finally engulfed his length into the warmth of my mouth. I took him in slowly inch by inch, his girth heavy against my tongue as I extended my jaw wider and wider. I choked a little as he hit the back of my throat.

“You look so fucking gorgeous with your lips wrapped around me, pet,” his fingers tightened into my hair, his gaze stoic and heavy on me. Pet. The pet name earned a moan from me as I began a steady rhythm of sucking. My fingers were coated in a thick layer of saliva, Namjoon’s cock easily sliding against my pressured grip as my cheeks hollowed, jaw growing sore from my strenuous movements.

He groaned loudly, fucking my throat faster until I could no longer take it. I let my jaw go slack so he could use me as his personal toy. He grabbed my face and fucked it harder until I was seeing stars. A beautiful repetition of my name strung from his tongue, stilling as he came into my mouth. I happily swallowed every drop, coughing around his cock one last time, sending a shiver through his body.

“Good job, get on the bed I want to taste you. I can see you dripping on the floor,” he smirks as he picks me up and helps me onto the bed. He walks around and gets in the middle of the bed, watching me as I sit patiently waiting for instructions.

“Come here baby, sit on my face,” he motioned for me to come to him. I slowly crawled towards him, bracing myself on his lap. He kissed me roughly, tasting himself on my tongue, running his hand down to play with my chest. Nipples sensitive to the touch, he pulls away from me, taking my right breast in his mouth. Sucking and nibbling on me, teasing me. He pulled off with a pop, scooting further down the bed and then lifting me so I could move towards his face.

I place my hands on the headboard hovering over his face in anticipation. He suddenly grabs my thighs and pulls me down onto him. I scream out in pleasure as he dives into my center. Feverishly lapping his tongue at my pussy like it’s the last time he’ll have me. His moans send intense vibrations through my body, making me scream his name. We’ll have a noise complaint tomorrow.

I felt my orgasm coming on, riding his tongue until my legs were sore. He let go of my left thigh to slap my ass hard, signaling me to cum on his tongue. I came with a loud groan of his name. Shaking and twitching as I came down from my high.

Namjoon grabbed my hips, gently guiding me down to his lap. His face was covered in my essence, from nose to chin, he glistened like an Angel. He smiled and rubbed circles on my tummy as he watched me shake.

“Don’t think we’re done darling, I’m not finished until I see my cum dripping down your pretty legs.” He gave me one last smile before his eyes darkened once more. He grabbed my hips and lifted me slightly, sticking his girth fully inside me. I sank slowly, letting him fill me to the brim. Tears streamed down my cheeks loving the painful stretch in my core.

“Ride me until I say stop.” He deadpanned motioning for me to move or else. I started to ride him painfully slow, not being able to take much more. This was my opportunity to finally seize control. I picked up the pace, rhythmic grunts and sounds of skin slapping filled the room. I put my hands on his chest and let my hips do the talking.

I ground down harder, spelling his name with every swift motion of my hips. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, indicating he was close already. Now that I have control I’m going to make him feel everything he did to me. I moved faster, causing the bed to shake and tremble with every shout of his name.

He grabbed my hips trying to make me slow down but I only grind down harder. Clenching and tightening around him to send me him over the edge. I watched as his orgasm roared through him, eyes rolling to the back of his head. I kept moving, milking everything from him. Getting closer to my orgasm, I let myself go with one last yell of his name.

Squeezing my eyes shut as I finally stilled. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room, the bed creaking as I rolled off of him. Shivering as the empty feeling overtakes me when he’s not inside of me. “I hope I didn’t get too carried away,” I started while looking over at my completely wrecked boyfriend.

“That was perfect.” He said smiling over at me. He slowly stood up, going to our bathroom to retrieve a towel. He returned momentarily, cleaning me off and then cleaning himself. Throwing the towel in the hamper against the wall. I was so exhausted I could barely move. I got under our giant duvet, getting comfortable fairly quickly.

Namjoon glanced at me, nestled under the warm blankets, my eyes getting heavy with exhaustion. He promised me a special date night and he was determined to make it happen, even if he just put me to sleep. With a gentle smile, his aftercare continued.

“Hey, babe,” he whispered softly, brushing a strand of loose hair from my face. “I know you’re tired but I don’t want our date night to go to waste.”

I yawned in response and mumbled sleepily, “Joonie I’m so comfy right here.” Earning a chuckle from him, my reluctance seeped through the atmosphere. “I know, but trust me, you won’t regret it. I’ve got something in the living room set up for us.”

That caused me to sit up, curiosity overcoming my fatigue. “Oh? What is it?” I said carefully. “It’s a surprise, but I promise it’ll be worth it.” He said leaning in to plant a kiss on my forehead.

With his gentle encouragement, I reluctantly pushed the covers aside and allowed Namjoon to help me out of bed. He passed me the discarded robe and my slippers, and together we made our way to the living room.

Where soft candlelight flickered with a movie on the screen waiting to be played. As I settled onto the couch I couldn’t help but smile at the effort Namjoon had put into creating this romantic haven. A charcuterie board with our favorite snacks and 2 bottles of the wine we purchased earlier were on the coffee table.

Namjoon plopped down beside me, taking my hand in his. “See princess? Our date night in the living room isn’t so bad, is it?” He said grinning like he won the lottery. My fatigue began to dissipate as I basked in the warmth of Namjoon's love and effort. “Not bad at all,” I said, feeling grateful for his consistency and thoughtfulness.

“Let’s start the movie I’m so excited!” I exclaimed pumping my fist in the air embarrassingly hard. Namjoon laughed and mimicked me, making me laugh even harder than before. The first half of the movie went by as we stuffed our faces with food and downed wine like it was our last supper. I was starting to feel tipsy and before I knew it my thoughts started wandering again.

“Mmm, these snacks are-“ Namjoon started as he reached for the charcuterie board. I interrupted his thought by grabbing his hand. Namjoon looked at me puzzled, “huh?” He says in surprise. I move closer and settle onto his lap. “I want to be closer to you,” I said, hands resting on his toned chest.

Namjoon blinked at me, a tipsy smile forming on his lips, “Well I can’t argue with that pet.” I look into his eyes exploring the galaxies I can reach within them. “You know, I love nights like these, just you and me, a movie, some wine…” I rambled to him.

“Yeah, me too. It’s moments like this when I realize how lucky I am to have you in my life baby.” He said while lost in my eyes. Searching for something, something that he knows I have. I leaned in slowly, our lips almost touching, “I love you Namjoon.” I kissed him before he could respond. Feeling his emotions spill into our kiss. He pulled us apart gently, rubbing his hand on my cheek. “I love you too Y/N.”

He grabbed my face and captured my lips again. A thief that could do no wrong in my eyes, I deepened the kiss craving more of him. Needing to feel something more. I slowly began moving my hips on his thigh, grinding down onto the exposed skin, earning a guttural groan from his throat.

His hands moved down the side of my body, exploring every curve, touching every mark he left on me this evening. He landed on my hips, guiding me to my last orgasm with his strong hands. The air was hot once more, soft moans and sweet nothings penetrated the quiet.

The movie is long forgotten, the candlelight coating the walls in a beautiful golden glow. I felt my orgasm building quickly, still sensitive from the earlier assault on my clit. Namjoon began bouncing his leg, adding more pressure on my center, and sending me over the edge.

I kiss him one last time before I fall fast asleep on him.

The end.

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krirebr · 3 months

Text

I Know I Should Know Better 4

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader, references to past Colin Shea x Female Reader & past Johnny Storm x Female Reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Angst, adult themes, complicated power dynamics, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), drinking & implied drug use, explicit language, bad boyfriend (Colin continues to be awful, even though we haven't actually seen him since part 2), self-destructive behavior, anxiety, negative self-talk. She's still having a bad time, you guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Well, here it is! As I currently have it planned, this will be seven parts, so we're officially past the halfway point now. This part's a little shorter, but I'm hoping you'll think it's worth it.

Big thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down the new character here! (If you don't remember doing that Carly, it's because it was ages ago 🤣)

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screaming at me. 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

The drive to the restaurant was uncomfortable. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just you. Sitting in the backseat alone, while Curtis and Jensen quietly conversed in the front, you felt ridiculous. You should learn how to drive. You were a grown woman who couldn’t even get herself anywhere—just another way you didn’t know how to be responsible for yourself.

You stared at Curtis in the front seat. It’d been a few weeks since your boundaries conversation. You hadn’t spoken to him much since. He was right. It was better. Cleaner. But you missed being able to talk to him.

Something had changed about the way he watched you though. You would swear that it was more intense now, the way his eyes followed you around the room. And it always seemed like he had something to say, he’d just never say it. He didn’t make any sense.

You took a breath. You were nervous about this lunch. You weren’t entirely sure what the purpose of it was, aside from the fact that Marnie Reynolds had wanted to meet. You hadn’t seen her in years and then she just texted you out of the blue two days ago, asking if you wanted to have lunch. You assumed she was going to pitch you something. Why else would she want to talk? You hoped it’d be something easy to agree to. It would make Wilford and Tanya feel better if someone actively wanted to work with you, at the very least.

The restaurant wasn’t the kind of place you normally went to. It was nice, but tucked away, not designed for those who wanted to see and be seen. Marnie had chosen it. She was waiting for you at a small table in the back, even more private. She stood as you approached and enveloped you in a warm hug. She was just as glamorous as you remembered, suddenly hit by memories of sitting in her trailer while she let you try on her jewelry. She’d always been so nice to you. “Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you,” she said as you both sat down.

You smiled and nodded. “It’s good to see you, too. How are you?”

“Oh, good, good,” she said with a big smile. “Just got back from a shoot in Greece. Happy to be home.” Her eyes lost a little of their luster as she asked, “How are you, darling?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you said. You could tell she wanted you to say more, but you just nodded and shrugged.

“Well,” she looked at you carefully, “I can’t get over how grown up you are. I know it’s silly, but I think I’ll always see you as the sixteen-year-old I met at the table read ten years ago.”

“You and all of America,” you said dryly before you could think better of it.

Instead of chastising you, she just nodded. “I’m very grateful I didn’t have to grow up so publicly and then have to make that transition to being an adult. I can’t imagine how hard that is.”

You shrugged again. You didn’t really know what to say to her.

“Which, speaking of, I owe you an apology.”

Panic rose in your chest. Oh, god. Had she sold a story about you? Said something private in an interview? Blocked you from a new role? You weren’t sure you could handle one more thing right now. “Oh?” you asked shakily.

She nodded, seriously. “I should have done a better job of keeping in touch with you after we’d finished the movie. I owed you that much. I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your brow, confused. “That’s fine. You’ve been so busy. I didn’t really expect you to remember me. I mean, you won an Oscar. I know how much work that takes.”

“Mmm,” she said, “and you sent me flowers.”

You shrugged. You just kept shrugging. “Well, you were always kind to me, and I was so happy for you. It seemed like the least I should do.”

“You were always so sweet. I’m so happy to see that hasn’t changed.”

At the sincerity on her face, you looked down at your menu. You didn’t know what to say to that.

“How’s your mom?” she asked, her tone strangely cautious. “Is she still your manager?”

“Oh, no. Wilford helped me get a new one when I turned 18. He thought I needed someone more experienced.”

She let out a breath, almost like she was relieved. “I have to admit, I’m happy to hear that.” You gave her a confused look and she continued softly, “She was always so hard on you. It was part of why I always invited you to my trailer. It seemed like you could really use a break from her.” She gave you another impossibly warm smile. “Plus, you were such great company. I loved making that movie with you.”

You couldn’t hide your relief when the server chose that moment to take your orders. You didn’t know what to do with the fondness in Marnie’s eyes.

Once you were both done ordering, you decided you were ready to talk business. “So, what’s the project?” you asked.

She looked confused. “Project?”

“Uh, yeah. Whatever you wanted to pitch me? The reason you asked me here.”

“Oh, honey, no, I’m sorry. There’s no project. I just wanted to see you.”

That didn’t make sense. That she didn’t want to work with you again made sense. No one did, so of course she didn’t either. But then why else were you here? “I don’t understand,” you said quietly.

She let out a sad little sigh. “I’ve seen some of what’s been going on with you, online, and it just seems like you need a friend. I want to be that for you. I think about you more than you know.”

“Oh,” was all you managed to say.

She grabbed your hand over the table. “There’s so much going on for you right now. I can’t imagine how hard it must be, and then to have to deal with it in public too.”

You didn’t say anything, just looked at your joined hands on the table. Then, finally, still looking down, “Uh, yeah. I’m having a pretty hard time.”

She squeezed your hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever want to talk about it.”

You finally looked up and nodded, but didn’t say anything else. You weren’t sure you could.

She looked at you carefully. “Have you thought about taking a break at all?”

You were reminded of Curtis, sitting on your couch, looking at you so earnestly, talking about taking a year off. You shook the image out of your head. “No,” you said. “It isn’t a good time. My reputation isn’t great right now, so I need to get back out there and show people that I can do the work. I need to fix it.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, “that sounds like agent speak.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “he’s right.”

“Remember, though,” she said, slowly, “that you’re a person, too. Not just a career.”

You just looked at her, blankly. Your career had been the most important thing about you since you were nine years old. You didn’t know how to separate the two. Luckily, that was when the server returned with your food, and Marnie graciously took it as a sign to take over the conversation for the rest of your meal. She talked about the movie she’d just finished, how her kids were doing, and the large garden she was planting at home. It was nice. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a meal out with a friend like this.

Still, you left the restaurant feeling raw and restless. You weren’t sure what to do with that conversation, the hard parts of it. The way she looked at you like she actually saw you. There was an itch in you now that just made you want to run.

Instead, as soon as you got home, you poured yourself a glass of sangria from the pitcher your housekeeper kept in your fridge and took the latest script Wilford had sent you onto your deck. You could feel Curtis watching you as you moved through the glass doors. That was his job, you told yourself. It was just his job.

The script fucking sucked. It was awful. The opposite of what you wanted to do. But you knew what Wilford would say. Beggars can’t be choosers. This was your fault. You were the one who’d destroyed your reputation. You had to be the one to fix it. And if making shit like this would fix it, then that’s what you had to do. Too many people relied on you for you not to do whatever you could, take whatever paychecks you could get. You hated it. You hated it so much. But you would do it.

You picked up your phone. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed. It was well into the evening now. There was a text from Michelle an hour ago, letting you know she’d left. And a few minutes ago, one from Nikki, a girl you partied with sometimes, that just said ‘Fuck them both!’

What the hell did that mean? Panic began to crawl up your throat and your hands started to shake as you typed your name into Google and clicked on News. Your stomach dropped. Johnny Storm, that snowboarder you’d barely dated over a year ago, apparently had a podcast now. And the latest episode, posted that day, featured Colin Shea as its guest. Shit. Fuck. You couldn’t even look at what they’d said. There was no point. It was all just the same old bullshit.

You felt tears start to prick at your eyes. Why couldn’t everyone just leave you the fuck alone? You weren’t even that interesting. How could they possibly have anything to talk about?

Fuck that, you thought, as you stormed back into your house. You distantly registered Curtis calling after you, but you didn’t pay any attention. You were too focused. You headed straight up to your bedroom. They wanted something to talk about? You’d fucking give it to them! You charged into your closet and grabbed the sluttiest, shiniest dress you had. Fuck yeah. You could do this. You would be exactly who they wanted you to be. If they wanted a show so fucking badly, you’d give them one.

You ran back downstairs, looking for a particular pair of earrings that a costar had given you as a wrap gift a couple of years ago – huge dangly ones that said Fuck on one ear and You on the other. There was nothing subtle about what you were going for tonight.

You’d have to think of someone to call, too. Someone suitable for the kind of scene you wanted to make, the kind of big mistake you wanted to fall into. You were so fucking tired of holding it all together. You were done. Your mind immediately landed on Lucas Lee, your costar in that dumb action movie last year. He was awful but so hot. Nothing but trouble and always up for whatever. Perfect.

As you entered your living room, your eyes landed on one of your jewelry boxes on the coffee table. There they were! As you picked up the box, you realized Curtis was sitting by himself on the couch. You saw him take in your short, sparkly dress and grimace. You weren’t in the mood to analyze it. “I’m going out,” you announced. “Have Jensen get the car ready.”

You were already moving through, headed back upstairs when you heard Curtis rasp, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You turned on a dime. “Excuse me?”

“I think,” he said slowly, so calmly you wanted to break something, “that going out right now, in the sort of mood you’re clearly in, would be a very bad idea.”

What the actual fuck? “Since when,” you asked, your voice quiet with seething anger, “is it your job to tell me what to do?”

He shook his head and you didn’t know how to react to how sad he looked. “I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m asking you to stay home tonight. For your own safety, which very much is my job.”

You just stared at him, dumbfounded. You didn’t understand him. He told you you weren’t friends. He was the one who said he was just your bodyguard. So what the hell was he doing now?

In the moment you stood frozen, just staring at him, he took a cautious step forward. “Did something happen?” he asked barely above a whisper.

You shook your head furiously. You felt like you could barely form words. You were so angry and lost, and scared, and sad, and confused. You were feeling more than you thought your body could contain. And you knew, you knew, the only way to get these feelings out would be to go out and get as wild as you could. And here Curtis was, not letting you. You were afraid you were going to explode. “That’s fine,” you finally got out, ignoring his question. “You don’t have to come with me. Jake neither. I’ll get a fucking Uber.” You took a step towards the opening of the room. “Go home Jake!” you shouted through the house. “I won’t need you tonight!”

Curtis sighed your name. “I’m not going to let you go out by yourself,” he said firmly.

You threw your hands in the air. “Then make up your goddamn mind!”

Jake appeared in the doorway, looking confused and Curtis turned to him. You took the opportunity to get back to the safety of your room, leaving your security detail to figure their shit out. Once back in your room, you dug through the jewelry box until you found the earrings you were looking for. You heard your back door open and close. Good. Jake, at least, was gone. You knew Curtis would be harder, but you were fucking determined.

Just as you were opening Uber on your phone, Curtis appeared in your doorway. “What,” you growled.

“Would you just listen to me for a minute?!” He said, not quite a yell, but not not that either, as he barged into your room. All of his practiced calm from downstairs was completely gone. “Something bad is going to happen if you go out tonight! It is, I know it is. And I know you can feel it too!”

“Why do you care?!” You shouted at him. “No one else does! Why do you care so much?!”

“You know why!” he shouted back, and took another step toward you, but then suddenly stopped. Much, much quieter, much softer, and with eyes so pleading, he said “You must know.”

You didn’t. You really don’t think you knew until that moment, when the realization slammed into you. Every look, every sigh, all of the moments of him that hadn’t made sense. You took a step back. “What?” you breathed, barely realizing that you were shaking.

He took a step forward to follow you, then stopped. He opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head at him. “No,” you said. “You can’t.”

“I can’t?!” he asked, incredulous and upset again.

“No!” you shouted, but it was so much weaker now. “I just– Why would– I’m such a fucking mess!” You were starting to cry, the adrenaline of the last half-hour finally leaking out of you, replaced by that same bone-deep exhaustion that you’d had for too long. “I barely have a high school education. I don’t know how to do anything for myself. No one wants to work with me. I am barely keeping it together and everyone knows it. I’m a trainwreck! Why would you–” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that you knew he meant. “Why would you have feelings for someone like that?”

The sadness was back in his face. You looked away, unable to bear it. In your periphery, you saw him take a cautious step forward, then pause. When you made no move to run, he eliminated the distance between you, standing directly in front of you. He slowly, gently, carefully brought one hand up to touch your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I know,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I know all that and I still love you. Because I also know that somehow, despite everything, you are one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met. You are so kind. And thoughtful. You let everyone see your soft spots, even when all they do is hurt you. You have every reason to be awful or bitter or mean or any of a thousand things. But you aren’t. It’s all of it, it’s all of those things and the ones you said too. All of it together, that’s why I love you. I love you because you’re you.”

You wanted to sob. No one had ever said anything remotely like that to you before. Not anyone in your family, or a single one of your exes. No one had ever cared enough to say any of that. Except for Curtis. He’d always cared, hadn’t he? Since that first day he’d showed up, when you’d been so scared about the possibility of a stalker, he’d taken such care with you. He was the most caring, thoughtful, beautiful person you knew. You took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. You could see his worry, but also the deep conviction with which he’d just said all that to you. You couldn’t help yourself anymore. You surged forward and you kissed him.

He made a noise of surprise—you didn’t know how he could possibly be surprised after all that—but after just a moment he was kissing you back, bringing both hands up to cradle your head. You were getting your tears all over him, but he didn’t seem to care. He was soft and gentle and passionate. You needed more. You needed all of him.

You took a step back, breaking the kiss. You did what you could to brush the tears off your face. You grabbed the bottom of your dress and pulled it over your head, then tossed it on the floor. You stood in front of him in the lingerie you’d picked out to fuck Lucas Lee of all people and couldn’t understand how you’d ever been able to think about anyone but Curtis. But you did know how when you stopped to think about it. You’d never been able to fathom that you might deserve this man. That he might actually want you.

He stared at you. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re–” you braced yourself for what might come next. So hot or fucking sexy. You’d even gotten beautiful once or twice. He only took a second before he finished his sentence “–incredible,” with such awe on his face that you actually felt your knees go weak. You had to look away. He was too much.

He took your face in his hands again and placed a soft, short kiss on your lips. “But would it be ok if we slowed down?” he asked.

You couldn’t keep the disappointment out of your voice. “Why?”

“This is real for me,” he said. “And if we do this, I want it to be real for you too. I want you to be sure. And for now,” he stroked one thumb over your cheekbone, “right now I just want to hold you. Is that alright? If I just hold you tonight?”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Sex had always been the best, most important part of any of your relationships. It’d been the biggest thing that any of your previous partners had wanted from you. You weren’t sure you knew how to do it any other way. But he was holding you so gently, looking at you so softly, all you could do was nod.

He kissed you once more. Then stepped back and started to take off his clothes. You made your way to your bed and got in, watching him as he shed his clothes. He really was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Nothing on any movie set you’d ever been on, any party you’d ever been to could compare to him.

Once he was down to just his boxers, he crawled in next to you and pulled you close. Your lips touched his shoulder as you asked, barely audible, “You really love me?”

He kissed your forehead. “Yes,” he whispered. “I really love you.”

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k-s-morgan · 4 months

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This is a belated post where I wanted to briefly address the outcomes of 2023!

While Ukraine mostly faded from the stage of world's news, unfortunately, the situation didn't get better for my people. Every day Russia kills, maims, and ruins everything it can touch. Every day civilians die from its imprecise missiles, random shootings and artillery, and outright executions. I often see that those living in other countries call this Putin's war, but it really isn't. This is the war sponsored by Putin and his regime, true, but first and foremost, this is the war of Russian people. It's hundreds of thousands of Russian people who arm themselves and go kill our defenders and our civilians. It's Russian people who fire from tanks and other deadly weapons to ruin the Ukrainians' homes, to scorch our land, to leave nothing but destruction instead of cities and villages. It's Russian people who build the missiles, load their bombers, and fly for 5+ hours to direct them at our cities, homes, factories, and even empty fields.

This is me during one of the latest massive attack that took place on January 2. At first, at night, 35+ Russian-Iranian drones bombed us. Then Russian people sent about 100 missiles at us, mainly at my city Kyiv.

Our air defense system managed to intercept the majority of them, but while it sounds like interception is an entirely positive thing, it might have terrible consequences. Because the parts of the missiles fall down randomly. They can kill any human or creature walking down the street; they can collapse on top of a residential building. There is no escape, no way to feel safe even with the best air defense systems surrounding the city. Here's one of many disastrous results of this attack.

Dead and injured people and animals. Damaged and lost apartments.

On December 29, another attack killed over 30 people in Kyiv alone. You can see their faces below. They deserve to be seen and remembered.

This is a short story of just two latest attacks that took place just within one week, just in one city. Imagine how many of them me and my people lived through during the entire year? How many more we will have to experience?

Actually, we lived through another one before I finished writing this post. It happened on January 8, and it killed even more civilians.

I know that there are good, sane, compassionate Russians. I have some relatives among them. One of them, my aunt, can't keep herself entirely silent: she's deeply religious, and a few weeks ago, in a church, she risked saying that killing Ukrainians is bad. Another man told her that she's scum and that if she dares to open her mouth again, he will report her to authorities. The headmaster of a school where my aunt teaches was imprisoned for 7 years for refusing to hold a Z-event among students. Living there must be a torture of another kind, where you are surrounded by zombies who openly promote terrorism and bless missiles sent to kill other human beings. The problem is that sane and compassionate Russians are the minority - the vast majority is happy to either kill us or they support those who kill us. Or they simply don't care, trying to claim that everything is complicated when in reality, there is nothing complicated about it at all. Russia is a terrorist state and the world allows its people and its government to keep being monsters.

Seeing the indifference and impotence of seemingly powerful countries makes me increasingly concerned and depressed. At this point, I don't think I'm simply affected by my experiences: the world is rapidly going to hell, with terrorist countries like Russia being allowed to revel in their blood-thirstiness and the other terrorist countries, like North Korea, or potential offenders like China, observing and taking notes. When a criminal sees that no one is punished for a crime, they escalate. More criminals appear. This is what I feel is going to start happening more and more, until half of the planet is plunged into death and destruction. I'll be so very glad to be wrong.

On a personal note, I lost my most beloved pet pigeon Daikiria in 2023. I love her and miss her so much that I still cry whenever I think of her. In turn, I acquired a red nightmare of a rabbit who eats everything, including my feet, and two more pigeons. Taking care of them brings me joy - I only hope that my effort will actually benefit them.

Here's a pigeon that I named Noveria the day I found her, in a video I made for my vet. Attacked by a cat, bleeding all over, with broken ribs and a missing piece of her wing, with no tail:

Here is she now. She is feeling much better, although unfortunately, she got sick because of her weakened immune system.

My kitties continue to be adorable dorks. Here's me sleeping with my cat Tom after one of the attacks - he's really scared of loud sounds, so he sleeps like a rock afterward, just like me.

My family stays strong, and I hope we will remain to be so.

Writing stories remains a huge source of relief and distraction to me, and your support, love, and care give me strength even when I feel like I'm about to run out of it.

Thank you to those who support me on Patreon and give me a chance to have a safety net shielding me from some of the horrors and insecurities - thanks to you, I can rest sometimes when I would have to work instead; I can afford some more distractions and to write more as a result. Thank you to those who leave comments, kudos, asks; thank you to my friends who never fail to message me with questions about my well-being. I love and I appreciate you tremendously, and despite all my fears and worries, I hope that we will get to see a better future still.

#personal #ukraine #kyiv #kiev #russia is a terrorist state #my fics #thank you

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ofherpinkways · 4 months

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No matter how many girls

( ⚠️🚫MDNI cod men x fem reader smut with aftercare⚠️🚫 ) < a/n: my first smut sorry if it's shit yall

Imagine dating for years being power a couple that the whole Base talks about

Fuck even the other Units do

Unfortunately things go south and you two break up

Causing an uproar. Now that you're broken up the both of you are free for the taking now

Of course instantly the new recruits, ran straight for him. Fighting over him like hungry vultures

Teasing him during missions and off

Wearing small tight pieces of clothing around him

Those shorts barely covered her stupid ass last

Showing off their perky little tits at the clubs and bars

Grinding against him on the dance floor

Worse of all? The little tramp is looking at you the whole time trying to get under your skin

Admittedly to youself it was working leading you to be snappy towards him during missions and around base the following week

Which of course leds into massive argument between the two of you

God how your temper turns him on causing to not pay attention to anything you're saying as you chew him out

His poor brain is too lost thinking about the dirty little things he wants to do you again

Watching you throw your hands around as you yell at him

Missing how those pretty fingernail with the newly pained black nail polish would ruined from you dipping them in his back as you fucked you all those weeks ago .

Without any second thought he grabbed your arm dragging you to his room and throwing you on his bed. Looking at you lustful eyes as he towered over you

You looked back at him shocked unable to say anything. Heart pounding against your chest. Embarrassing for yourself in moment a wet patch is starting to ruin your fleshly washed panties

Before you knew it. He was inside of you pounding his cock into your pretty pussy as you cry into his chest moaning loudly unable to control yourself

He looked down at you admiring the cute little mess he was making of you

"No matter how many girls I've been since we broke up I couldn't stop myself from pretending they were all you " he whispered grunting , warm lips on your ear

His lips traveled to your cheek planting small kiss on it slowly down his thrusts "every fucking time angel" he whispered softly looking at you with love leaning for tender kiss

He pulled out of you bringing into his arms running his fingers through your messy hair. Giving small pecks all over your sensitive body

"You did so good today love ,you took me so well I'm so proud of you " he whispers in soft happy tone "rest for now yeah? We'll talk about getting back together tomorrow "

(A/N: lol very clearly first smut Anways apparently my seasonal depression makes me incredibly horny , although with that this be my last post [other for reblogs] while because ya girl is going through it right so I gotta take a break)

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shady-swan-jones · 12 days

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Captain Swan Fic Recs are back, baby! - April Edition

Hello, cs friends! It's been like, what, seven years since I last did this? Who's counting. Enjoy the fruits of y'all's labour and some amazing stories. Keep writing, we need you

-Sophie

when Emma falls in love [from the vault] by @spartanguard

Inspired by "When Emma Falls In Love" by Taylor Swift, part of series based on songs from the vault

everyone's wondering why Emma doesn't screw the hot bartender already, it's not like he hasn't given signs. but with emma's romantic past it's not like she's throwing chances to anyone, scruffily attractive as they may be. yet, it's not her past that's worrisome. will they break the curse?

rated T | 6.2k words | AO3

“Didn’t you pay attention to trigonometry, Jones?” she balances her weight on the stick, languidly, in a way that ticks something into his already drowsy brain. “Is this the part where you offer to teach me, Swan?” he says, advancing to her.

Read on Ao3 or ff.net

I, lost, was passing by - by @dykelilypage

Five years ago, Emma's father had given her a necklace for her birthday. It was a beautiful ruby encased in a golden chain, that sat heavy on her chest. It was safe to say then, that Emma was more than a little bit pissed off to discover that it had been stolen from right around her neck. The one stroke of luck to the whole ordeal was that she knew exactly who had taken it. Killian Jones. rated E | 6267 words

love scare by @exhaustedpirate

it's a little canon-compliant one-shot that i place during the six weeks of peace, more specifically, like a day or so before 4B rated G | 922 words | ao3

Expecting a Secret [3/3] by @walviemort

Summary: After the events of 3x19, Killian is at his lowest after being rejected by Emma. When Snow’s labor turns out to be a false alarm, Zelena offers Killian a deal: she’ll leave the Charmings alone…if he gives her the baby she needs for her spell instead. There’s just one hitch: he has to keep it a secret. At least it will only take 10 days, right?

The Heart of a Villan (5/5) by @beckettj

There are only two people that can make me care about football: Ted Lasso and this. Words: 6181 ~ AO3

Perilous Harbor by @veryverynotgoodwrites

Emma Swan is heir apparent to her parents' kingdom in the Enchanted Forest, and a powerful wielder of light magic. This makes her the most wanted woman in the realm, not only for marriage, but for leverage against the king and queen. While her parents have been able to keep her safe so far, an attack is launched on Princess Emma that leaves her no choice but to seek the protection of her worst enemy - Killian Jones, infamous captain of the Jolly Roger and his pirate crew. ao3 in progress 19/23

a work of art by @sotangledupinit

“I always have to clean up your messes,” she mutters to herself angrily, eyes glaring down at the red liquid on the floor.

Between Waking Life and Our Dreams (12/?) by @nachocheese-itsmycheese

Season 3b canon divergence: Storybrooke is still missing when Emma, Killian, and Henry reach the town line. AO3 T

The Fluffy Problem by @ineffablecolors

"Oh, I'm going to have fun paying you back, Captain."

ff.net

The Cure for Loneliness (4/?) by @laianely

Killian went to the world without magic to finally kill Crocodile, but instead he met Emma in Gold's shop. And his whole life turned upside down overnight.

E 16k words in progress AO3

Pan Says... (8/?) by @hollyethecurious

After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

To Cleave Destiny by @iamstartraveller776

She was going to pass the night the same way she did every year in adulthood: by getting drunk enough to forget that the world was incredibly unfair. Ao3, in progress, T, 4k

Note:

Don't forget to comment and show some love. To me too. Come on. Anyone else who wants to be tagged can request it.

If you have more fic recs or more links, drop them in the comments and I'll include them. You creative mermaids, love ya.

@kmomof4 @caught-in-the-filter @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @justanother-unluckysoul @karlyfr13s @snowbellewells @xarandomdreamx @klynn-stormz @omninerdgirl @facesiousbutton82 @finmnsoh56 @followbatb @killianxswan @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd

#cs ff #captain swan #ouat #killian jones #emma swan #ouat ff #cs modern au #cs au #cs fic #my lists

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katyaromanoffpetrova · 2 months

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A lifetime of dates (part 3)

After being together for twenty years, Natasha and Katya have been on many dates in their lifetime. In this series, we see one from every part of their lives.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova from the Forgotten Ghost series) • Wordcount: 1.8k • Warnings: very angsty!!! • This part takes place a month or two after the events in Infinity War (after Tony gets back on Earth) do not repost my work as your own or translate my work Masterlist

A/N: thank youuuu @milfs69420 for this idea <3

2018

"Meet me on the roof."

Natasha hated herself for perking up with pointless hope when her phone chimed. But she hated herself even more for the way her stomach fell with disappointment when it was just Katya's name flashing across her screen. In fact, she resented herself for it.

Every night, when Katya cautiously reached for her body in bed, she counted herself incredibly lucky to still have her wife. The odds had always been against them; Katya should not be here right now. But she was, and Natasha struggled to find solace in it.

Sam, Wanda, Fury, T'Challa, Peter, they were all gone, their names never popping up on her phone anymore. Their absence outweighed Katya's presence by miles, and she couldn't get it to change. The darkness was too powerful, the one single star that represented Katya lost in the vastness.

The lights in the Compound flickered on as the motion sensors picked Natasha up along her journey to the roof. She could hear the fluorescents in the eerie silence, above the sound of her shoes on the stairs and the soft click as the doors fell into the frame behind her.

Everything was fully abandoned two weeks ago. Recruits left to find out what remained of their families, and the other Avengers—Steve, Bruce, Tony, Thor, Clint—abandoned their tasks and left the two Russians to fend for themselves, just as the world needed this team the most.

Tony fled to the countryside with Pepper, Steve into the city. Duties to his own people called Thor away, and Clint chose to run away from his pain instead of facing it. Nobody had been in contact since, their coats still hanging on the coat rack in the hallway like they left behind a past life.

Why were they allowed to move on and not her?

Natasha didn't have it within herself to be angry about it anymore. She had been, in the beginning, but everything took so much energy these days. Eating, getting out of bed, brushing her teeth, showering. She had no energy to even think about anger as an emotion. The empty pit in her chest sucked it all in.

She didn't want to acknowledge it for what it was, but the diagnosis lingered in the back of her head.

The roof was so dark that she had trouble locating Katya when she first stepped through the door. Where the city's skyline and the Compound's outdoor lighting used to outline her seated figure, there now was nothing. Half the city missed electricity, and entire buildings were abandoned. Natasha had to squint to make her eyes adjust quicker.

She found Katya at the very edge of the roof, facing the silent city. Her back was turned and her legs dangled off the side of the building like it wasn't a three story drop, a bottle of some kind in her hand.

She looked peaceful, but a dark thought flashed through Natasha's mind as she crossed the distance, fueled by the knowledge of her wife's unstable past. It was obvious Katya was struggling again, dangerous thoughts no doubt infiltrating her brain and convincing her to do irreversible things. But Natasha breathed easy knowing they lived for each other. As long as she was alive, so would Katya.

Quietly, she sat down beside her, the smooth pebbles that covered the surface of the roof unpleasant under her butt. Katya didn't acknowledge her in any way, but Natasha had a feeling she knew why they were up here. It wasn't for nothing that she planned a "date".

Neither of them said anything. They just sat there, watching the dark skyscrapers, the rustling trees, the rolling clouds that revealed parts of the moon. One nice thing about the reduced city lights; the stars were visible again.

Katya handed Natasha her bottle of beer. She felt indifferent about it, but she took a sip anyway. It tasted like crap.

They'd done this countless times before, having a drink on the roof. Especially after a tiring day, or on a warm summer evening. It was a nice way of unwinding and finding more privacy than their apartment provided. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they sat in silence. But it had never felt like this.

The air between them wasn't tense, but it was loaded with unspoken knowledge. They were losing their grip on each other and they both realized it. Natasha could feel her wife starting to slip away. She could feel herself starting to push her away.

There was already a distance between them. The love that had always been right there on the surface when she was around Katya was being pushed under by feelings stronger and more powerful. Anger, sadness, guilt, self-hatred, fear, they made that fiery flame turn into a smoldering piece of wood.

"Stay with me." Katya said suddenly.

Surprised, Natasha turned to look at her, thrown off by the interruption of the silence and the odd conversation starter.

Katya's words sounded like an order. One that Natasha could not disobey for the desperation that lay right underneath the surface. A plea, hidden as a command.

The light of the moon caught the fearful, sorrowful glint in Katya's eyes as they flickered towards the sky. Natasha was caught by surprise when the sight triggered a rush of feelings within herself. She didn't think she could feel anything other than heavy emptiness.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised.

"You're already miles away," Katya whispered, carefully glancing at her.

Shamefully, Natasha averted her eyes to the bottle in her lap. Her heart ached in her chest, but she cherished the sharp stabs. It meant that she still cared about Katya's pain.

"I'm just so…" Her fingers curled into fists, that powerless feeling that threatened to crush her day and night fighting its way to the surface and making her tear up with anger.

The tears kicked Katya to life. Broken souls or not, they were wives, and protective mode would always kick in when the eyes glossed over. She leaned into Natasha's side, carefully prying her clenched fingers open to slide her own between them.

"I know. Me too."

Natasha relaxed slightly, but she couldn't help but focus on how even this touch felt foreign. Their palms were touching each other, but it's as if they were both wearing gloves. They couldn't fully reach each other. And the more she fixated on it, the more terrified she became.

She loved her wife. She loved her. Why could she not summon that feeling through the thick cloud of emptiness? Why did this touch not magically heal her?

Panic rose in her throat.

Not this, too. After everything they lost, she couldn't lose this too.

"I'll always stay with you," Natasha vowed desperately, the beer bottle in her hand trembling along with her fingers.

Katya didn't relax, her voice fragile and quiet as she asked, "Even if we'll forever feel like this?"

Dread wrapped around Natasha's broken heart. Forever? Forever this emptiness, forever this awful feeling of guilt and self-loathing? The only thing she feared more than living the rest of her life in darkness, was blindly stumbling through it without Katya. To have no one to talk to. No one to find comfort in. No one to live for.

She'd already gone through life like that once, before Clint found her, but she knew she wouldn't survive that a second time. Not after knowing what she'd lost.

Her throat closed with tears. "I don't want to be alone again," Natasha choked out.

"You will never be alone again." Katya's voice wavered with tears too, her grip on Natasha's hand tightening. "I'm staying too."

Natasha wanted to feel confident in their future, to know that she could provide what Katya needed. But the truth is, she already had nothing to give. All her energy and focus she put into running the Avengers brand alone. "I can't give you what I used to," she muttered, fearing Katya would leave eventually after she figured that out too.

Katya looked away, towards the swaying trees, the dark city. The reality slowly started to sink in. This would be their future for a while. Bland, hopeless, empty. It'd be hard. "Neither can I," she whispered. "Maybe we just give what we can."

Maybe. It'd have to be enough. She wasn't leaving, and Natasha wasn't leaving either. They had to make this work. They'd been through worse. They'd faced armies, death, and losing the love of their lives, and overcame it all.

Natasha's tears had long dried, the lump in her throat shrinking until it was easier to swallow. She wanted to scream in frustration. Beg whoever was listening to just fix this, so the world would be okay, and so she and Katya would be okay. But there couldn't be a god after what happened.

Her thumb traced the scar on the back of Katya's hand, memorizing the shape in case she wouldn't feel it for a while. "The love I have for you is always there. Even if you can't feel it, and even if I can't show it," she said into the silence. No horns, no sirens, no birds.

Seeing the acceptance in Katya's eyes broke her. They wanted to cherish each other like they deserved, but they knew they weren't able to give that. And to see her wife accept that reality hurt more than getting stabbed in the gut. Katya deserved everything and more.

Katya gently squeezed her hand. "Knowing is enough." The dark circles under her eyes betrayed that she'd not slept in a while, but her mind appeared clear. This bottle of beer must have been alone. "Never doubt my reason for being here, for staying. I love you, and I always will. And that single thing is enough. You are enough."

Those stupid tears. First, Natasha felt nothing, but now that the dam broke, the emotions would not stop flowing out of her.

She was never enough. Not fast enough, not smart enough, not cold enough, not ruthless enough. And not enough to stick around for.

Nobody thought she was worth more than someone to throw away if it was more convenient for them, if she could no longer provide what they needed.

Nobody but Katya.

Katya didn't need anything from her. Not a hug, not a kiss, not a home cooked meal, not a way to fix every problem in the world. Natasha just needed to exist, and that was it. Exist in whatever way she could and Katya would love her.

"We have to be okay," Natasha said, in the same tone as Katya started this conversation. An order, filled with desperation. They both knew what would happen if they wouldn't be okay, and it would not be pretty.

"We will be," Katya promised, her determination falling slightly flat. "We will be."

#katandnat #katyaromanoffpetrova #natasha romanoff #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #black widow #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu

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sparrowrye · 1 month

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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 16

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 16: may I have this dance?

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

A hurricane ransacked the nation.

The cities and towns that didn't have many Demons, or those who weren't well versed in their magic, suffered greatly. Overlords with heavy control on their territory did well to keep the raging storm from destroying them. The Hazbin Haven was among those who came through the storm unscathed.

Alastor kept the Haven wrapped in a safe little bubble that allowed only the rain to get through. However, he couldn't keep it up all the time and so, when he needed some time to recover, he had me do it. I found it surprisingly easy to control the weather so the magic hand off was fluent and easy.

Demons hated the rain, though, so construction on the site was momentarily paused. Yet I noticed the children, Demon or Human, loved to play in the rain. The littles were determined to make themselves as dirty and mud-coated as they possibly could, while the older ones were more prone to just laying in the rain staring up at the cloudy sky. Reagan was among them, making sure none of the littles wandered too far out of the slightly invisible shield. Whenever I wasn't keeping up the shield, I was down with Reagan in the rain.

"So how's Lucas?" I teased, nudging her with my shoulder. We sat under an overhang of one of the buildings, both holding out a hand to the rain. The others played in front of us.

"Fine," she said lightheartedly, trying to pass it off. Lucas had joined the Haven a few weeks ago. He had a complicated past. He lost his father four years ago, before the Demons revealed themselves, and has been trying to survive with his sickly mother. It wasn't until about a year ago that she remarried. The man had hidden the fact that he was a Demon and when Humans started hunting him, he took Lucas and his mother into Hell to escape. Lucas had seen the posters for the Haven and, after much arguing with his step-father, came to join us soon after. He had deeply rooted untrustworthiness for Demons since. It was no wonder he and Reagan, who had no magic whatsoever, hit it off.

"Any new updates?" I pressed with a smile.

"Nope."

"I do."

Reagan turned her head to look at me. "On what?"

"On him." I tilted my head up so my smile turned into a smirk. "Want to know?"

Her eyebrows furrowed and I realized just then how much she was starting to take after me. "Sure."

"You know how you two run into each other a lot on the main street? That's not an accident. When he sees you, he runs to one of the other buildings and pretends to be walking from the direction."

"You don't know that." She crossed her arms.

"You've seen me. I'm always on the porch when I'm not doing something." She turned to watch the youngsters playing in the mud. "Oh come on," I shook her shoulder gently, "admit that you like it."

"He's just being nice."

"That's the point, sweetheart." I leaned my head on her shoulder and wrapped an arm around her back. "So do the boy a favor and let him. Maybe he'll even ask for a kiss--"

She shoved me away and covered her ears. Her face was bright red. I continued to press the tease, quickly earning a tackle from her. We rolled out into the rain and started to wrestle, the others stopping to watch us. Our feet slipped in the mud and her small stature allowed me to pick her up and toss her to the side. She tried going for my feet to make me fall but I just went with the momentum and rolled over, taking her with me.

Eventually we were out of breath and stopped the play fight when we had put distance between us again. We were both coated in dirt and soaked to the bone. I noticed Lucas, his blond hair a stark contrast to his dark environment, and casted a sly smile at Reagan. She followed my gaze, defenses dropping as he walked over to talk to her. I gently nudged her back with my fingers and walked up to the house to change.

Alastor stood on the porch, watching and waiting. I came up on the steps and used magic to take the mud off my feet so I wouldn't track it through the house.

"I do not understand your desire to do that," he said.

"It's just fun." I faked a genuine, confused look. "Do you know what that is?"

He dulled his claws and gently shoved my head away so I stumbled back. "We have very different ideas of fun."

"You're right," I walked into the house, a smile on my face, and made my way up the stairs, "Mine are better."

"I left an outfit for you on your bed," he changed the subject, making me stop at the top of the stairs. "We have an Overlord meeting tonight." He then fizzled into the shadows before I could say anything.

As I expected, it was a dress. It was a deep red and silky smooth, and I was actually excited to try it on. I showered quickly and used magic to dry out my hair.

The front of the skirt came just past the middle of my shins while the back stretched just a few inches further above my ankles. It hugged the middle of my figure perfectly. The top half was form fitting but loose, not hugging anything too much to distract wandering eyes, and the sleeves flared at the end. The edges of the shirt, from the skirt to the sleeves to the area around my chest, were all lined in white.

I looked at myself in my Demon form. I looked astounding. I looked elegant. For once, I actually really liked the way I looked with my Demon attributes. I looked scary but beautiful. Gone was my scarred, child-like face and in that place was a young woman with experience.

A knock came at my door a second before Alastor stepped in. His eyes immediately looked me up and down, smile turning to yellow teeth. "You look gorgeous."

Heat rose in my cheeks and I looked down at the fabric to avoid his eyes. "Thank you," I said quietly.

He walked behind my back and looked at me in the mirror. He twirled his claw and I watched my hair smooth out and fall loosely over my shoulders. That topped off my look entirely and my mouth dropped open a little. Before I could say or do anything else, he pulled something from his pocket and draped it over my neck. It was a silver necklace of one of his symbols: a circle inside another with two arrows crossing each other.

A strange feeling creeped in my chest at the sight of Alastor standing behind me, colors complimenting each other perfectly.

We then walked to the symbol on the cliff, Alastor using magic to keep the rain from touching us. I asked about keeping the Haven safe while we were gone and he said Husker would take care of it if the storm grew worse.

I let him put an arm around my shoulder and wrapped my own around his back. Warmth merged with the energy, elevating my confidence despite the looming palace in front of me. Lucifer had been the one to call the surface Overlords under Alastor's request. At first, the King of Hell wasn't interested in obliging, but after Alastor had explained the instance with Blackwater, he found it necessary.

We were one of the first to arrive. I recognized none of them until Vox and his trio walked in not long after. The TV screen caught sight of me and instantly made his way over. I clenched my jaw and forced everything in me not to bristle.

"Well if it isn't a pleasure to be seeing you again, sweetheart." He gave a short, half bow. "I must say, what a show you gave me with that Striker fellow."

"It's a good thing you broadcasted it," Alastor said in my place, "Perhaps your audience will know not to test her again." A smile pulled at the corner of my mouth.

"Oh for sure, she's definitely trending," Velvette popped out from my behind me and stood too close for comfort, "as a cheater."

"We are Demons, darling," Alastor didn't skip a beat, "we don't play by the rules." He placed a hand on my shoulder and soothed the anger and embarrassment running through me.

"I must say you look stunning tonight," Vox drew my attention back to him. He reached for my hand but Alastor was fast, grabbing the man's wrist and pulling it far away from mine.

"Do not touch her," he hissed.

Vox took a step closer to him, mouth in a wide, sharp smile. "What are you gonna do, Alastor? You can't do anything while we're in Lucifer's palace."

"You are free game once this meeting is done." Alastor looked undeterred, smile nearly matching Vox's.

My nose curled at a familiar scent. I turned my head to see a trail of pink smoke coming from Valentino, the ring owner who had drugged me the first time. I casted wind to dissipate the smoke and hardened my stare at the Overlord. "You could be so much more than his accessory."

"So true." Velvette snapped a selfie with Alastor, Vox, and me in the background.

"I'm the guardian of a safe haven," I answered, trying hard not to let my voice shake, "saving Demons and children from persecution. What are you doing?"

"Having secure territory keeps plenty of Demons and their families safe from Humans," Valentino replied. He leaned his waist to the side and put one of his many hands on it.

"On their own free will?" I taunted, eying his pink smoke.

"That depends on what you consider free will."

Before anyone could say anything else, the doors to the usual meeting room opened. Alastor dropped Vox's wrist and wiped his claw on his coat. Vox's smile turned into a snarl as we walked into the room. Just like before, the surface Overlords brought a second-hand that stood behind them against the many pillars.

"Alastor called this meeting." Lucifer joined us a moment later, sitting himself at the head of the table. It was strange, but oddly satisfying, to see him in a commanding aura. From my sessions with the King of Hell, I discovered he was a lot more anxious, depressed, and self conscious than he let on to others. "So, what do you want?"

"How many of you know the name Blackwater?" Alastor immediately got to the point. Only three of the twelve present Overlords raised their hand. Vox was one of them. "Do you know what he does?"

"He's an inventor," Vox answered.

"Of what?" Alastor pressed.

"He's an inventor. Anything is on the table, but he likes bringing back technology from before the Great Collapse."

Alastor turned to look at the rest of the table. "Blackwater has recently created a device that uses Demon's blood to allow Humans with Slight magic to have more than they're born with." Murmurs spread through the Overlords. "And in case you haven't noticed, two surface Overlords are missing tonight." Heads turned to examine who was present and who wasn't.

"So Humans can use more elemental magic. Why is that concerning for us?" Valentino asked, taking another puff of his smoke.

"If he's managed to craft a device that can gift a Human elemental magic, imagine what he can do with a powerful Overlord's magic."

The room fell silent. I glanced at Lucifer who seemed deeply concerned about this. His apple cane sat in his lap and if I listened close, I could just barely hear the sound of his glove gripping it painfully tight.

"Blackwater has been operating in the grey area of public and private for some time. He has several factories around the nation and has been presenting them to a private class of individuals. It wasn't until recently that he has started to go fully public and advertise his inventions. I want to know why he wasn't someone's concern before this point." He sent pointed looks at those who had answered earlier that they knew of his name.

"He wasn't and still isn't a threat," Vox said first.

"If he has factories all around the nation, it would make sense that he would go unnoticed," the woman with the huge white horns spoke next. "If all his assets were in one's territory, then of course it would cause concern. Sounds as if he knows we don't communicate with each other."

"His factories need to be destroyed. If his operation grows, we will find ourselves against an army of Humans with our magic." Alastor had a commanding tone and it was obvious the other Overlords weren't taking it lightly. Yet, he had a point. Humans with Slight magic still outnumbered Demons ten to one and if they were given a way to harness more powerful magic, it would lead to a devastating war.

"If we want to stay united against the Humans and keep Hell from becoming even more overrun," Lucifer finally gave his insight, "then we will need to communicate with each other more often. I will make these meetings more frequent. For now, each of you should search your territory for any of Blackwater's assets."

The meeting ended soon after, each Overlord leaving the palace before teleporting back to the surface. Lucifer pulled me aside to ask about Charlie. He didn't want her to going out with me to break up the ring fights anymore. If Blackwater was serious, having the blood of the Princess of Hell would be the worst thing possible. He knew if he told Charlie not to do it, then she wouldn't listen on the account of "not needing to be protected anymore". I reassured him that I would make sure she didn't go with me.

It was still raining by the time Alastor and I teleported back to the house. The storm blocked out the moon, casting the whole haven in darkness. I could feel that Husker wasn't in the house and couldn't help but smile. Recently, he had been spending some of his nights with a certain Demon in the huts.

I walked through the living room to the stairs but stopped when the radio turned on. Green magic whisked out of sight from the dials as a slow, unfamiliar song began to play (I love you for sentimental reasons - Nat King Cole).

"Will you indulge me, darling?" Alastor bowed low in front of me and held out a hand. "It has been some time since I last danced with anyone. And you do look astounding in that dress."

Nerves prickled in the back of my neck. "I uh...I don't really know how to dance." I backed away with my hands raised.

"It is more of a sway, then a dance. It's rather easy to teach." He didn't move from where he bowed, hand still outstretched. "I suspect there won't be another time I can ask for a dance from you."

"Why do you want to?"

"You have intrigued me, dear. And I do so miss dancing."

For awhile I still didn't answer. The song played softly in the background and Alastor's appearance seemed less sharp and intimidating than usual. He straightened up but still held his hand out, eyes refusing to leave mine.

"It is easy to learn," he pressed gently, "I will not make fun."

Against my better judgement, I stepped forward and placed my claw in his, letting him pull me from the entryway to the center of the living room. He restarted the song and the fire grew, illuminating the room with its orange glow. The muscles in my body tensed as he raised our clasped hands and slid an arm around my back. I wasn't sure where to put my free hand and settled on the outside of his arm, anxiously pinching the fabric between my fingers.

He moved slow, taking one step towards me then followed with his other foot. He shifted his weight side to side then stepped away to repeat. I had my head down as I tried to move in time and prevent myself from stepping on his feet. The sweet piano played in the background as I gradually moved in time with him and the music.

"Head up, darling." His radio filter was gone and his smooth voice filled my ears. It made me tilt my head back to meet his red eyes that were somehow softer. He wore a gentle, simple smile. No teeth. I felt his warm magic seep into my back and force my muscles to relax. My shoulders lowered, as did the fear, and moving in step with him became second nature.

His smile grew and he tilted his head to the side. The gesture made my face grow warm and I looked at the fire instead. His arm around my back pulled me closer so I was flush against his chest. I instinctively pushed with my free hand but he held me firmly, patiently waiting for me to look up at him. And it worked.

"You're a natural," he praised.

The song ended too soon. Before he could play another song, I let go of his hand and put both hands on his chest, trying to put space between us again. In retaliation, he interlocked his fingers behind my back and kept me securely against him.

He was the master of silence. I kept my gaze averted while his bore into the side of my face. I made sure to keep my claws off his jacket in case they caught a thread, but my foot claws openly dug into the carpet. My tail was wrapped around my own leg.

Another slow song came on, this one slightly more upbeat and full of violins in the beginning (welcome to my world - Jim reeves).

"My mother taught my sister and I how to dance when we were little," he admitted.

"Your sister?" I suddenly stopped trying to push away from him. We were now simply swaying side by side, no footwork needed.

"That's the woman you saw in my memories." His smile was still gentle but there was an edge to it. Was it perhaps pain from the thought of his deceased sibling? "She is my twin sister."

There was prolonged silence as I looked between his eyes and observed the strange expression on his face. Alastor, the Radio Demon, once had a twin sister. "Wow," was all I managed.

"Surprised again?" He tilted his head in the other direction.

"Well...yeah. I'm not sure why, though."

He let out a small chuckle. "She loved to dance. Once my mother taught us how to slow dance she could never stop. She explored different styles and settled on the more upbeat and sporadic ones. Couldn't say I minded it much myself, either."

My eyes were wide and glued to him now. That was the most he had ever shared about his past in the near four years I had known him.

"She caught everyone's attention," he went on, "and I was always there to keep the bad ones away. We couldn't ever be separated." His smile faltered and I guessed he was now thinking of her death that did in fact separate them.

"I'm surprised you had the time to watch her. I'm sure you were also popular on the dance floor." The compliment had slipped out and inwardly cringed when his smile turned into a smirk.

"Perhaps I am sensing jealousy?" he teased, lowering his face closer to mine. His presence was sitting comfortably around my shields.

"You-you just...you know...you clearly know how to dance so I'm sure you were...well liked when you were..." my voice trailed off. I didn't want to say younger because that almost sounded insulting.

"Indeed you're right, I was quite different in the first fifty years of my life." He straightened up again and pushed his presence gently against my mind. "I had many good dance partners and acquaintances, but my sister always came first."

His tentacles crawled out from behind and gently wrapped around my wrists. He pulled my hands up so they would stretch over his shoulders and lock behind his head. The proximity made my hair stand on edge, a nervous bolt sprinting through my body.

"While you may not have danced before, music seems to have an effect on you as well." His clasped hands tightened ever so slightly behind my back. My tip of my tail tapped the floor nervously.

"W-well I...my mother...she uh...she...she had a radio in the cage. I remember falling asleep to all kinds of music." I hoped he couldn't heart how loud my heart was beating.

"It's no wonder you wait outside my room to listen, then."

I immediately pulled my hands back at the revelation of being caught. He wrapped his arms further around so he was gripping his elbows and holding me in place, trying to contain his laughter.

"Do not be embarrassed," he tried to reassure, "I'm quite flattered, actually." I tried pushed on his arms, face bright red and gaze averted to the floor. "I'm quite pleased you do not hate me so anymore." He dared to unwrap one arm and gently, but firmly, pulled my unwilling chin up to look him in the eyes. "Do you still despise me?"

My claws pressed into his arms, dangerously close to puncturing his skin and putting holes in his jacket. "I...well...I don't think so. Now that you're treating me properly."

Another chuckle. "I do suppose I wasn't as nice as I should've been when we first met."

The violins slowed to a stop and the room fell silent, save for a an occasional pop from the fire. My pounding heart blocked out all other noises. I suddenly became aware of his thick, earthy scent tinged with sweat. I tried to focus on that particular one as his breath, which smelled much like his last meal, fanned my cheeks.

His eyes moved so quickly and slightly that I almost didn't catch it. And even though I did, I still wasn't prepared for when he closed the distance, gently pressing his lips on mine in a careful kiss. My eyes widened and my ears and hair stood up. I wanted to run but wanted to stay. I wanted to scream but wanted to continue. My claws tapped his sleeves vividly, my body as stiff as wood.

He fixed that a second later, sending his magic up my back and spreading to the rest of my muscles. It forced everything to relax and he opened his mind to me. My eyes closed as he drew me further in.

I didn't realize how deep I had fallen until I was watching a memory from his eyes. He was speaking to Rosie in her store again.

"Oh Alastor, can't you see? You're falling in love with the dear thing." Her voice echoed like she was in a bigger room.

"I am not," he hissed. "Our connection has strengthened, that is all."

"Well, falling in love is a process after all, dearie."

"I am fond of her but I do not love her." Ouch. "Our bond will provide us with more energy and she may finally be able to handle her own magic."

I pulled out of his mind too quickly. It felt like a rug burn on my mind as I shoved him away and tripped backwards on my tail. He nearly lost his own balance and pressed a claw to his head.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" I practically screamed.

"Perhaps I miscalculated—"

"Miscalculated? Miscalculated!? This isn't something to miscalculate. I'm not your accessory! I'm not something to be manipulated, I'm not a tool to be fined and sharpened so you could use me!"

I threw my hands up and spun in a circle, tail whipping about furiously.

"Ugh I can't believe I let you trick me into thinking you actually cared."

Alastor tried to say something but it never left his mouth. For once he was at a loss for words. His yellow smile was plastered on his face but his eyebrows were showing a strangled emotion I had never seen before. His ears were as pinned back as my own.

When he failed to say anything, I whisked up the stairs and slammed the door. I threw the dress on the window seat along with the necklace, pulled on an old outfit I hadn't worn in a while, and slipped out the window.

Althea would let me sleep in one of the empty beds for the night.

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

Author's Note:

Eat up my little devils >:)

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #soulmate au #soulmates #hazbin hotel #reqs open #hazbin vox #hazbin velvette #hazbin valentino #lucifer morningstar

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bigification · 4 months

Text

Fit to Fat to Fit - Male TF

Nate stood in his bathroom, staring at his own reflection. "What have you become?" He asked himself. His untamed hair. His big ball belly. His moobs. It physically and mentally weighed him down. He grabbed a measuring tape and wrapped it around his gut. "48 inches, a new high. I'm truly at rock bottom."

He spent a few more minutes poking and prodding at his fat. Being more and more depressed as he discovered new rolls of fat and bulges that stuck out farther than they did before. He then pulled out his phone and started looking at photos of himself from years prior. He landed on one from 3 years ago. He had taken a selfie of himself in a jockstrap.

"That was the beginning of the end for me." Nate stared at the photo. It was taken just after he stopped playing hockey, though he never lost the appetite he had while he played. "Man I thought I was so fat in this photo. It was the first time I realized I was getting fat, but if he could see me now I don't think he would feel so bad. Or maybe he would feel worse knowing this is where he ends up in three years." Nate can't help but to spiral. He thinks of what he could have done differently. Maybe if he just stayed in hockey, or if he just slowed down on his eating after hockey. Maybe he wouldn't end up like this.

In the middle of Nate's spiral of self pity, his boyfriend Andres walked into the bathroom. He noticed the measuring tape on the counter and picked it up.

"You shouldn't worry about it so much, it happens when you're in your thirties and you have an office job." He said trying to cheer Nate up."

"That's not helping. Besides can't you just do your weird magic thing and make us skinny and hot again." Nate sulked.

"For one, I promised never to use that on us. And also you're hot now so why bother." Nate just sulked in response. "Look, if it makes you feel better, I know the feeling." Andres continued. "Before we met, I was so hot, so fit. I was even an underwear model, although that was due in part to me using my power to make myself skinny. But that's beside the point." He pulled up a photo of him from before the two had met and showed it to Nate.

"The point is that I fell in love with a beautiful man with amazing cooking and now look at me. In a couple years I turned into a fatass with a beer belly and I couldn't be happier." Andres gave his gut a jiggle.

Nate seemed to chuckle a little, lightening his mood. Though he still seemed to be unsatisfied with his body. "Can we at least get a personal trainer." Nate asked. "Fine, if you really want to." Andres responded, feeling as though his reassurances failed to comfort his boyfriend.

A couple weeks went by and it was time to meet with their new personal trainer. The couple had tried to begin adjusting their diet to ease into the training, but both of them had gained weight leading up to it. Nate's cooking was just too good to give up so easily. They both drove to the gym and paused in the parking lot to gain their composure before going in.

"Does this shirt make me look fat? I hope it's not too small." Nate asked Andres.

"No you look great!" Andres reassured.

"I'm scared our trainer is gonna be a dick. What if he's like some jock douchebag that's gonna make fun of us for being fat."

"Well we're paying him so I don't think he'll care how fat we are, I don't think he'll be a dick. He looked pretty nice in the photos on the website." Andres pulled up the photo of their trainer. "Ok, he kinda does look like a dick." Andres said. Their trainer was posed in his car, flexing and pointing at his arm with a smug look.

"You know what, don't worry about it. Let's just go in." Andres said quickly as he got out of the car and went to Nate's side of the car to drag him out of the car.

The two sheepishly entered the gym, being that it was the first time they had entered one in years. They made their way to a private office to meet with their trainer to discuss a routine and diet before the training would begin. They knocked on the door and a tall strong young man answered. "Andres and Nate, yes?" He said politely as he let them in. "Take a seat." The trainer said pointing at a couple chairs across the room. The chairs seemed to let out a squeal as the two men sat down.

The session went on normally. The trainer introduced himself as Kent. He then went through a workout schedule and a diet schedule after asking a few basic questions about their life. After a little while, Kent excused himself to get a protein shake before they would finish up the meeting.

While Kent was gone, Nate leaned in toward Andres. "He's nice but he's still kinda scary."

"Well maybe... I could make him less scary." Andres suggested.

"You mean-"

"Ya." Andres interrupted. "Have you ever seen fit to fat to fit?" He asked.

"No, what is it?"

"It's a show where personal trainers gain a lot of weight so they can then lose it with the person they're training. It makes the weight loss feel more personal cuz both of them are losing the weight together." Andres suggested.

"So you're saying we make him fat so he can lose the fat with us." Nate questioned.

"Yes!" Andres responded.

They were both interrupted when Kent entered the room. He sat down at his chair and began typing away at his computer. Andres winked at Nate as he got up and approached Kent. He put his hand on Kent's neck and he almost immediately froze. Fat started to pile into the young man's body. His cut six pack became a large muscle gut that stretched his shirt to its limit. His solid pecs became soft moobs that pressed firmly against his shirt. His arms started to look soft as a thick layer of fat covered his muscle, though they still looked large and imposing. His ass widened until it took up the entire office chair he sat in. And his legs thickened until they permanently rubbed against each other. Andres was feeling generous as a large bulge formed in Kent's pants. Finally Kent's jawline disappeared under a layer of fat and a double chin folded under his shirt stubble.

Andres seemed like he was just about to end the transformation, but wanted to add one final touch. Kent's face seemed to mature as wrinkles formed on his face and his hairline receded. It receded almost to the point of leaving bald. His build also seemed to change as his already broad shoulders broadened and his belly and ass stuck out a bit more. Finally Andres lifted his hand from Kent's neck and sat back down in his seat. "Now he's about our age, and much heavier. He should be no problem." Andres said confidently to Nate.

As if nothing had happened, Kent swung his chair around toward the couple. He lifted his hand up to his gut and began rubbing it.

"Well let's get started."

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fuckinthewholetown · 1 month

Text

Fallingforyou - Matty Healy Chapter Two

Chapter two is finally here!!! Thank you all for the support on chapter one, none of the comments made me cry which means I’m clearly doing something right. I’ve tried something a bit different with this one so you finally get some insight into what the hell Matty is doing.

Tags: Angst, slight mentions of smut, swearing

Word Count: 4985

Minors do not interact!!!

Your POV

The UK/Europe leg of the tour was over in a flash, doing a full lap of Europe before you end back where you started, Wembley Stadium. Now, you have three months to relax until you kick off the North American portion of your tour in Arlington, Texas. However, there’s one thing the Lost Atlantis girls don’t know how to do and that’s take a break. Somehow, despite all of your success, you end up in a dingy Premier Inn just North of central London on a random Sunday in the beginning of July.

“If I knew you’d get free tickets to 1975 gigs, I would’ve slid into Ross’s DMs for you years ago.” You say, slicking your hair back into a low ponytail in the dim lighting of the bathroom.

“This is why I was hesitant to tell you, because now you’ve got us dressing up like we’re spy’s.” Maddie says, chuckling as she sticks a skinny black tie around her neck.

“I thought considering you’re shagging a member of the band you’d understand this but I’ll gladly explain it to you again. This is a formal situation, and there’s a dress code. It’s essentially a Matty Healy cosplay competition disguised as a concert.” You reply, exiting the bathroom and doing a spin to show Maddie your entire get up.

“I understand the whole dress code thing, what I don’t understand is why you want to follow it. All you’ve been doing for the last two months is performing and slowly falling into a downwards spiral over Matty hating you. The last thing you want to do is look like him.”

“Maddison, when will you learn? Yes, I am constantly having a mental breakdown over the fact he hates me but my power as a fan girl trumps that any day of the week. I tried getting tickets for this gig and I couldn’t, so now that God has dropped free tickets into my lap I’m going to seize this opportunity.” You respond, sitting down on the rock solid mattress probably worth about a tenner.

“That was an excellent speech, there’s a reason we make you do all the talking.” You both fall into a comfortable silence, doom scrolling until the rest of the girls are ready.

Truth be told, you were putting on a front, acting all excited to see the boys again. And you are, both because you missed them and because you’ve spent the last four years waiting to see The 1975 at Finsbury Park. Despite this, there’s still a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. The thought of seeing Matty again and once again being rejected leaves a lump the size of a golf ball in your throat. Maddie was right, you haven’t been able to enjoy the last two months of tour. Despite traveling Europe with your best mates, performing at some of the biggest stadiums in the world, you’ve only got one thing on your mind at all times. Matty.

How he brushed you off when you first met, the snarky comments made in your direction, the infuriating nickname meant to be a jab as your band name. Despite this, the thing on the forefront of your mind is the hug. You know it was a group hug that he was forced into, and knowing how he acts towards you he would have rather been standing next to anyone else. However, all you’ve been thinking about since you last saw him was the fact the area his fingers touched has been noticeably colder since he pulled away.

You’re quickly pulled out of your shame spiral by what could best be described as an assault on your hotel room door. That means one of two things, either a mob of angry fans have found where you’re staying or the girls are finally finished getting ready. Luckily for you, it’s the second one. You have about 30 minutes until you need to leave so conversation fills the room, with the dulcet sounds of Being Funny in a Foreign Language playing in the background to hype you all up. Final touches are made to hair and makeup and next thing you know, you’re all barrelling out to the streets of London.

Despite not growing up here, London feels like a second home to you. Even though you’ve been on tour most of the time, you’ve lived here since you were eighteen so navigating the streets comes with ease to you. It’s also the one place where no one cares who you are. Everyone’s so focused on themselves, they don’t pay attention to the fact that one of the biggest bands in the world is just casually walking around next to them. It’s an introvert's dream.

You eventually get to the entrance of Finsbury Park, blending in with the thousands of fans wearing the exact same thing as you. You knew these outfits would be a good idea. Bypassing the general admissions entrance, you and the girls walk over to the VIP entrance. Introducing yourselves to the security, you’re quickly escorted through the park towards the side of the main stage.

Before you even see anyone, you hear them. The rowdy conversations echoing in the corridors, long before you even get close to reaching their dressing rooms. You hear him, his laugh as George says something out of pocket. That stupid laugh that you know you’ll never get to hear unless you’re outside the room.

“Hey boys!” Ava says, entering the dressing room and making your presence known. The room erupts with cheers at your arrival. Matty seems happy, until he makes eye contact with you and his smile drops. This is going to be a long day.

When he sees you, George immediately wraps you up in a hug that makes you actively try to keep both your feet on the floor. It’s the kind of hug that makes you forget all of life’s problems. It’s the kind of hug that makes you forget that the man you’ve dreamt about since you were sixteen is currently sitting in the corner giving you a look that could burn through your scalp.

“Todays gonna be a good day, pretty girl! We’re performing at fucking Finsbury Park! I know that’s not a big deal to miss ‘I casually play Wembley Stadium’ but it’s a big deal to us.” He says, slowly putting you down. You chuckle at his slight dig at you, knowing full well he means no harm.

“Oh George, I love how you’re always here to remind me how much more successful than you I am.” You laugh, playing into the egotistical role he’s forced you into, “but seriously, this is gonna be one hell of a gig. I had tickets back for the 2020 show, but that damn covid ruined all my dreams.”

“I always forget you’re a fan. Like, it’s so weird to imagine you just casually listening to our music before you win a Grammy.” He says, sitting down on the edge of a chair and pouring a glass of water.

“I don’t listen to music before a gig, it stresses me out too much. But you know what I make sure I do before every show? Cleanse the space.” You say, pulling out a stick of incense from your bag. George gives you an apprehensive look, clearly not buying into the hippie shit you know and love. “Come on, it can’t hurt. It’s won us 2 Grammys for album of the year. You can argue with that logic.”

“Fine, but if Matty shits himself on stage it’s on you and your incense.” He laughs, holding out his lighter. You go around the room, getting some weird stares from some and knowing stares off the girls.

“Hey, don’t knock it. She forgot to do it before a show once and the sound system stopped working halfway through and a rogue pyro burnt me and I ended up in A&E at 3am. That shit works!” Moon yelled, somehow making herself louder than the countless conversations that we’re going on at the time.

Then you got to Matty, who’s been side eyeing you the entire time you’ve been walking around the room. You make sure to linger in his area for longer than the rest, aggressively cleansing him of any negative energy.

“This is the biggest gig of your life and yet I’m getting a lot of negative energy from you. Might wanna fix that before the show.” You say, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He scoffs, you instinctively roll your eyes as the horrendous nickname before walking off towards the rest of the group.

Luckily, you could ignore the side eyes and the snarky comments by supporting all your friends. The highlight of your day being The Bleachers. You’ve known Jack and the rest of the band for years, almost as long as you’ve been in the industry, so seeing fifty thousand people yell the lyrics to their songs makes your heart swell with pride. However, nothing will beat hearing the entire crowd chant the name of Mattys mum. Knowing the entire audience is secretly there for Denise, makes you and the rest of the girls burst out with laughter.

Before the boys go on stage, you meet them all at the side. Giving each of them a hug and your best wishes for the show. You can’t hide it, your inner fan girl starts coming out at this point. You go up to Matty, trying to create some element of peace.

“Do me a favour and play Love Me?” You say, a glint of a smile on your face. He doesn’t return the favour.

“In your dreams, Princess.” He responds, before walking off to do some final preparations before heading on stage.

However, you could forget all about this when you hear the first few notes of The 1975 from Being Funny in a Foreign Language. All of a sudden, you’re no longer the lead singer of a world famous band. You’re just a girl, standing in London, watching her favourite band perform her favourite songs. All your problems wash away, and you get absorbed by the charismatic nature of Matty.

Every so often, you’d catch the eye of one of the people on stage. Throwing up a heart to Polly, blowing a kiss to George, and giving Hann an enthusiastic thumbs up. That’s until you meet eyes with Matty. Not sure what to do, you stand there staring at him. A mischievous grin falls upon his face, a smirk that’s going to haunt your dreams. And also, the first bit of actual emotion he’s shown you. You’re unsure what to think of this, until the end of Happiness comes around.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” He says into his mic, despite putting on an act his charisma is palpable. No wonder you fell for the act. “Welcome to The 1975 At Their Very Best! Now normally, we don’t take requests this early on. Especially not from blonde bimbos who think crystals do shit. However this songs a banger and you all deserve it!”

You know what’s coming next, however it’s still whiplash hearing the opening notes to Love Me. You’re not sure how to feel. On one hand, they’re playing one of your favourite songs. On the other hand, the man who you’ve considered to be your musical inspiration just called you a blonde bimbo on stage. Clearly, you’re not hiding your disappointment as well as you thought you were as you feel Maddies arms snake around your waist.

“You good?” She whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“Yeah,” you nod, “I’m great.”

The rest of the show goes off without a hitch. If you ignore the comment Matty made early on in the show, you’d go as far as to say it’s the best gig you’ve ever been to. Tim Healy singing All You Need To Hear, About You with Carly at golden hour, Be My Mistake. It’s a show teenage you would’ve dreamt of seeing.

You head backstage after the show, the energy from everyone is radiant and even Matty can’t keep up his stoic demeanor. Annoyingly, his smile lights up the room and you find yourself feeling things you haven’t felt since you were in your peak tumblr days. These feelings quickly get diminished when you realise that everytime he looks at you, the light behind his eyes dwindles.

All of your fears are washed away when you hear the familiar voice of Charli. You first met six years ago, when she opened for your band on the UK/Europe leg of your second world tour. You’ve stayed close friends since, however both of your busy schedules have kept you apart. You spot her, realising she’s mid conversation with Matty and George. Deciding to talk to her later, you turn to look for one of your bandmates however fate has other plans.

“Holy shit, come over here you sexy, blonde bitch!” She yells, dragging you over to join the conversation. She pulls you into a hug that rivals George’s from earlier in the day.

“Damn, I forgot you two know each other. Don’t know how, Charli constantly reminds me that she’d leave me for you in a heartbeat.” George laughs, handing you another drink.

“I have that effect, the girlies love me.” You reply, taking the drink off George and winking at Charli. Matty scoffs.

“Yeah, whatever you say.” Matty responds, taking a sip of his drink to muffle what he was saying. It doesn’t work, silence falls over the group. The silence is palpable, until someone decides to play Boom Clap over the speakers and the group erupts into laughter.

You can’t help but feel guilty for bringing the mood down backstage. You know it’s him who started this, but you play into it. When Ava comes over to you to inform you that everyone’s going to a local bar, you decide to opt out of it. Using the excuse that you’re tired after a long day and you just want to go back to the hotel to sleep. Once you get back, the silence envelops you. You realise it’s the first time you’ve heard nothing all day. Before you knew it, tears started rolling down your face. Over analysing the day's events didn’t help. Every comment, every look, everything he’s done towards you crosses your mind, and the more you think about it the more tears stream down your face.

You did not expect sobbing in a Premier Inn to be how you end your day.

Mattys POV

The 1975 at Finsbury Park has been a long time coming, getting canceled due to Covid when it was first announced. He’s waited for years for this moment, and it’s finally arrived. He’s sat in the dressing room with the rest of the band, conversations about who knows what are flowing. The adrenaline in the room makes everyone unusually talkative.

“I’m just saying, would we be as successful if we were worms?” George said, with the most deadpan look on his face. The room erupts into laughter, joy that is only boosted when five unexpected guests walk into the room.

“Hey boys!” The drummer of Lost Atlantis, Ava Fletcher, yells over the roaring conversation. It’s all fun and games until he spots her. They’re all dressed in their best 1975 concert attire, dressed in different variations of his suit getup. It’s her outfit that catches his eye first though. Opting for a short sleeved shirt and a mini skirt that perfectly frames her body. Her blonde, curly hair pulled up into a low ponytail. She looks annoyingly beautiful.

His face drops instinctively when he sees her, refusing to have any feelings that may give his thoughts away. He recognises the disappointment on her face, and he knows it’s his fault. He can’t help but feel guilty, knowing he’s the reason she never truly has a real smile when she’s around them. Yet he’s not sure why he does it, maybe it’s because he’s been hurt by women like her before, maybe he’s afraid of rejection. Who knows?

He can pinpoint the exact moment these feelings started, he was on a night out with the boys when Ross pulled up a video on his phone. It was a video of a girl, clearly pissed out of her mind, singing the ending of Robbers. Ross informs them it’s the lead singer of Lost Atlantis, who’s apparently been very open about being a fan for years now. However, for some unknown reason he’s never seen her face. Even drunk, she’s beautiful. The way her curls perfectly frame her face, the makeup that’s clearly been smudged by a night of drunken antics, the dress that perfectly frames her figure. She’s everything and more.

Despite acting cold towards her, the secret looks still brings a smile to his face. Watching her interact with his boys as if she’s been a member of their inner circle for years. Watching her perform at Wembley, like she was made for that stage, hiding her fear with bravado and excellent stage presence. He’s never met anyone like her.

After sitting in the corner for what feels like hours, she finally walks over to him holding a stick of incense. He’s never brought into any of that shit, but when she does it it’s weirdly endearing. The fact that she’s so set in her belief system, it just makes her more beautiful.

She stays near to him for longer than she does elsewhere, giving him the opportunity to bask in his presence for a second longer. Her perfume envelops him, luring him further down the rabbit hole. She aggressively incenses the area he’s sitting.

“This is the biggest gig of your life and yet I’m getting a lot of negative energy from you.” She says, her voice acting like a siren luring him in and yet he continues to walk to the other way. “You might wanna fix that before the show.” She continues, almost at a whisper. Without warning, his trousers suddenly become two sizes too small. If she keeps acting like this, it’s going to be a very long day for him.

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He responds, clearing his throat to try and hide any arousal that the previous comment caused. Rolling her eyes in response, he can’t help but let the intrusive thoughts roll over his mind. The thought of him being the reason she’s rolling her eyes, but instead of it being out of frustration it’s when she’s lying naked underneath him. Now his trousers are three sizes too small. He watches as she struts away from him, going back into idle conversation with the rest of the boys.

He tries his hardest to ignore her the rest of the day, which is an impossible feat when she’s so unknowingly beautiful. Watching as she jumps around to The Bleachers, or whooping and cheering George on as he steps on as drummer for The Japanese House. She’s always there, just in the corner of his eyes. He knows he hasn’t had a great life, but this is a cruel act even for God.

Despite this, he manages to pull himself together by the time he needs to get on stage. Standing in the wings, silently hyping himself up, he’s joined by the rest of the band as well as the Lost Atlantis girls. They’re wrapped up in hugs, which he reciprocates for most members of the band. Before he knew it, she was standing in front of him like a sight out of a dream.

“Do me a favour and play Love Me?” She says, a smile on her face, the only smile he’ll get from her for a while. That damn smile.

“In your dreams, Princess.” He responds, knowing full well they were already planning on playing it early on in the set. The thought that maybe he’d get to see her enthusiastic reaction is the only reason he can justify his response.

He stands behind the door at the back of the stage, reveling in the cheers from fifty thousand fans standing in the field before him. The adrenaline is enough to forget everything around him, he’s no longer a love struck boy from Manchester, he’s a performer ready to put on one hell of a show for the fans who have traveled far and wide to see them.

The opening notes of The 1975 blares over the sound system, somehow still quieter than the screaming fans. He looks out, reveling in the moment of fifty thousand fans screaming along the lyrics he wrote. He also notices how she reacts to making eye contact with other members of the band. Throwing a heart up to Polly, blowing a kiss to George, and meeting his stare with a deadpan expression and quickly looking away.

The first three songs are over in a flash, and before he knows it it’s time to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to The 1975 At Their Very Best! Now normally, we don’t take requests this early on. Especially not from blonde bimbos who think crystals do shit. However this songs a banger and you all deserve it!”

He’s not sure why he says it, it just slips out. This whole hating thing is way too easy to fall into. It doesn’t make seeing the look on her face any easier. The way her smile drops at what she hears is heartbreaking, turning a moment of joy into something she’ll have nightmares about. He knows the bimbo label has tormented her on the internet over the years, but he guesses hearing it on stage come from someone she’s been a fan of for years affects her differently than when it’s coming from an anonymous journalist.

He manages to put this at the back of his mind as the show goes on. And he can’t deny, despite some hiccups the show goes amazingly. Bringing his dad out for All I Need To Hear cemented this show as one for the history books, getting deservedly emotional over how far they’ve come since they were 12 playing in his mum's garage. He occasionally looks to the side of the stage, hoping to catch her eye but it never happens, either catching her eye at the wrong moment or she’s refusing to look at him for the rest of the show.

Once the show’s over, they all head backstage for a post show party. He’s dragged around left, right, and center, forced to take part in some of the most mind numbing and repetitive conversations known to man. That is, until he’s saved by George and Charli. He’d much rather be a third wheel than have corporate conversations with sleazy businessmen trying to profit off his success.

He’s too distracted to take part in the conversation though, his eyes constantly finding the cheery, blonde figure in the room. Her smile emits a light source, drawing everyone towards her including Matty. His feelings are only heightened when Charli calls her over.

“Holy shit, come over here you sexy, blonde bitch!” Charli yells, grabbing her by the forearm and dragging her over to the group and pulling her into a hug. He forgot that they knew each other, making his situation ten times more awkward.

“Damn, I forgot you two know each other. Don’t know how, Charli constantly reminds me that she’d leave me for you in a heartbeat.” George chuckles, handing her a drink that he ,not so sneakily, puts extra alcohol in.

“I have that effect, the girlies love me.” She says, looking at Charli and winking at her. A soft groan escapes his lips that he manages to cover with a cough.

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He responds, taking a sip of his drink to calm him down. An awkward silence falls over the group, no one really sure what to say in response. Luckily, someone starts blaring Boom Clap over the speakers, causing an annoyed groan to come from Charli before she starts loudly exclaiming how the song was a quote unquote “mistake”.

He jumps at the opportunity when Hann asks if he’s coming out with the rest of them to a local bar. However, when they get there he notices one person is missing from the group.

“Hey, um where’s your little friend gone?” He says to the four remaining members of Lost Atlantis.

“She’s gone back to the hotel.” Maddi responds, clearly annoyed. “She claims she’s tired, but I think it has something to do with the fact an egotistical asshole called her a blonde bimbo on stage.” A look of regret floods his eyes, he knew it would affect her but he didn’t think it would be that bad.

“Look, I'm sorry but,” he starts talking but is quickly cut off.

“We don’t care about how sorry you are, Matty. We just wanna know why you did it? You’ve been an ass to her ever since the Wembley show. She’s been nothing but nice to you, and you’ve responded by being a childish dick head.” Ava snaps, giving him a glare that resembles daggers.

“You’re in a band as well, I’m sure you understand why we’re being so protective. But whenever she’s around you, she isn’t herself and we’re not losing her over some petty grudge you hold for god knows what reason.” Moon follows up, not giving Matty enough time to respond.

“Disrespectfully, but we’ve lost all respect for you after the bimbo incident, so fuck off and leave us alone for the rest of the night.” Maddie continues, walking off before he could say anything. He walks over to a booth in the corner of the bar, cradling his drink and thinking how he’s going to grovel at her feet the next time he sees her. This self pity spiral is quickly ruined when Sienna Turner walks over and sits down next to him.

“I know why you’re acting like this.” She says, giving him a sympathetic look. “I get it, I don’t agree with the way you’re doing it, but I get it.” The confusion is obvious on his face, unsure of what the hell she is on about. “You like her, trust me I totally understand. She’s a total smoke show, and I’m not just saying that because she’s my best mate. And I get that you probably have commitment issues, you’re not the first rock star I’ve met, but being a little bitch and calling her a bimbo on stage is not the way to cope with it. You’re just getting a one way ticket into us five shunning you, and that wouldn’t be fun for you because as long as Maddie and Ross are sleeping about you’re stuck with us.” She finishes, leaving the two of them in a comfortable silence.

“I’ve been hurt before.” He starts, unsure of why he’s spilling his secrets to who is essentially a stranger but he continues anyway. “And when I first saw that video of her, drunk and singing along to Robbers, I was smitten. But I never expected to meet her in real life, I mean you girls are stars and we’re just four men in our thirties. So when I did, I panicked. I mean, she’s somehow even more beautiful in real life than she is in that video.” He chuckles, taking a sip of his drink to collect his thoughts. “You know flight or fight? My response was to be a dick, and now I’ve pushed her away and she thinks I’m an asshole which I guess I am after what I said today. It’s probably for the best, your songs are amazing but those breakup songs are brutal. I think I’d have to go into hiding if one was written about me.” He laughs, making eye contact with Sienna for the first time since the conversation started.

“I’m going to give you some advice, and don’t take this as me liking you, I’m doing it for the beautiful woman who we need to be as mentally healthy as possible because she pays my rent. She’s been hurt by men before, and I’ve just sat back and let it happen but I’m not going to do that again. Despite everything that’s gone down in the last couple of months, I want to believe that you are a good person. However you need to prove that and apologise. I know it’s going to be awkward and uncomfortable, but you will do whatever it takes to make her forgive you. I don’t care if you have to get on your knees and beg, next time you see her you will be a groveling little bitch.” She says, with the most serious expression on her face. He knows she isn’t joking, those girls are protective over each other and will fight heaven and earth to make sure each other is safe.

“To being a groveling little bitch.” He says, holding up his drink for a cheers. Sienna clinks her glass with his, giving him a small yet comforting smile.

As harsh as it was, he needed that reality check. And not from someone who was close to him, but from a stranger who doesn’t care about his feelings. Sienna was right, he can’t keep hurting the people around him just because he has been hurt before.

He goes back to his apartment, ready to start planning the best apology ever given. But he doesn’t know where to start, considering he writes songs for a living he can’t seem to find the right words to explain how he’s feeling without exposing all of his feelings. He decides to give up, closing his laptop and falling into his bed. Letting sleep take over him as images of her flashes in his mind.

#adam hann #matty healy #george daniel #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #ross macdonald

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anangelwhodidntfall · 11 months

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If you're requests are open can I request for Rip. Being where Kayce has a daughter and she has a secret relationship with Rip. So the pair have to tell Kayce that she is pregnant 😊

A/N: I made the reader about 22, meaning that Kayce had her when he was a teenager and thus he is about 38 in this and Rip is about 40.

Forgive Me Father: Rip Wheeler

You thought you were gonna faint seeing the two positive lines on the multiple pregnancy tests sitting on the counter there was no way this was happening. You sighed trying to regather your thoughts when a knock came on the bathroom door making you panic.

"You alright in there, darlin'?" Your boyfriend asked.

You took a deep breath and opened the door deciding to face this head-on with him, and then based on what his reaction was to it, would determine your next steps.

"Rip I need to tell you something." You said reaching for his hand as he walked into the bathroom with you.

"I'm pregnant." You said showing him the multiple positive pregnancy tests that rested on the counter.

You became more nervous the longer he stood there looking at them not saying a word and his emotionless face didn't help either. Finally, he turns towards you and wraps you in his arms with a huge smile.

"I can't believe we are going to have a baby, darlin'. Sure we won't be able to keep this a secret anymore, but I'm so happy." He said looking at you with a huge smile.

"You mean that? Because I don't want you to feel like...." You started to say but he cut you off.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life." He said placing a kiss on your lips.

The next few days were full of bliss for you guys, as you both went to verify the news of your pregnancy with your doctor before you told anyone. You were very much pregnant about six weeks and the doctor got you set up for all of your appointments and gave you some recommendations on what to do and not to do.

"What do you mean you knew grandpa?" You asked your grandfather after you knew.

"I know everything that goes on at this ranch. But I'm so happy to have another grandkid on the way, what did your father say about it?" He asked.

"We haven't told him." You said quietly as Rip squeezed your hand.

Told me what?" Your dad asked walking into the room with Monica.

Your father looked at your grandpa and then over to you and Rip who were holding hands and that's when the realization hit him.

"How long?" He asked you two.

"Almost a year." Rip said.

"You've gotta be kidding me." He said looking at you two.

"Wish we were." You said looking at him.

"You took advantage of my daughter! I should've known that letting her work here would be a mistake. and how could you as her grandfather let this happen?" Your dad said angrily.

"Dad he didn't take advantage of me! We didn't even pursue anything until this year! Now I love him and I'm gonna have his kid whether you like it or not." You said.

"I'm gonna kill you." Your dad said to Rip.

A fight broke out between the two of them as you watched in horror, you knew your dad would be mad but never did you think that it would be this bad. Eventually, Rip got off your dad off of him and walked over to where you were.

"I'm disappointed in you, y/n." Your dad said before him and Monica left.

You were upset for the next few days, you really wondered if you were a disappointment to your friends and your wonderful boyfriend tried everything in his power to cheer you up but nothing was working, so he stepped out to go grab you guys dinner.

Your dad on the other hand felt guilty about what had happened a few nights ago and after speaking with Monica, he decided to go make things right with you before he lost you forever. He pulled up to yours and Rip's place and knocked on the door where you answer it.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" You asked him shocked.

"I was hoping we could talk things out and I could apologize for being a jackass the other night." He said as you nodded your head.

"Baby I'm not disappointed with you, I was just in shock to hear that you and rip were expecting let alone dating, it was a lot, and apologize for my actions. If I am being honest, I'm glad you are with Rip because I know that he would protect you and my grandkid with his life. Do you think you can forgive me?" He asked you.

"I can, thank you for saying that daddy." You said hugging him.

Rip walked in with dinner and smiled when he saw you and your dad hugging meaning that you guys had finally made up.

"Rip I know we don't have the best history and I'm sorry for the other night." Your dad said to him.

"It's alright, I would've done the same thing, would like to stay for dinner?" He asked your father who nodded his head.

#rip wheeler x reader #rip wheeler #rip wheeler imagine #rip wheeler fan fiction #rip wheeler fan fic #kayce dutton #kayce dutton x daughter!reader #rip wheeler x y/n #rip wheeler x dutton!reader #yellowstone imagine

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galvanizedfriend · 3 months

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Fic Update: The Wolf III [21/21]

Summary: Months after their return to New Orleans, Klaus and Caroline try to settle into a semblance of normalcy, while Elijah struggles to forgive his brother's sins. But a mysterious prophecy that foretells the downfall of the Mikaelson family brings them all together in a war that will reopen ancient wounds and see each of the siblings doomed: one by friend, one by foe and one by family.

[It's The Originals Season 3, but Caroline had Klaus' baby, now she's a vampire and they are back in New Orleans after a stint in Mystic Falls. It's mostly about Klaroline, obviously.]

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S03E21 The Bloody Crown Caroline wakes up from something that doesn't really feel like sleep. It’s as though her brain disconnected and went into a blackout state for a few hours. She doesn't feel well rested, not even close, but there's a soft tingle chasing across her skin that is oddly soothing.

She blinks out the drowsiness and follows the sensation, finds Klaus tracing the arm she has draped across his middle. It's a feathery brush, an absent-minded movement he probably doesn't even notice he's doing, but it still has the power to awaken butterflies in Caroline's stomach. Even after years, she feels it every time he touches her. Fire at the tips of his fingers.

He's facing away from her, staring at the sliver of daylight trickling in through the curtains, his usual dark and devious look replaced by something weary and distant. Caroline watches him for a long time, trying to peer through the mask of impassiveness, past the glacial ice in his eyes. She hates it when he's like this, lost in the corners of his own mind where she can't follow. With Klaus, that always spells trouble. The anger she knows how to deal with. The barks and snarls she can handle. It's the blank stares, the emptiness and the silence that scares her the most.

Read the full chapter here

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😃 Two updates in less than a week, and TW3 is over. 😃 Who am I, what am I doing with my life? 😃

There are loads of info on the actual story about how this will continue and some other stuff as well. We have reached the 1M words mark and I can't decide if this is impressive or if I have just completely lost control of my life. Either way, thank you so, so much to everyone who had read my long-ass fic and stayed with me through all of this. 💜 It's a mess, but I have loved living in this universe, and I hope some of you have too. 🥰

A special shout-out to my friend @definedareasofuncertainty, who was holding my hand when I posted the very first chapter, almost five years ago, and who is still somehow my friend. 🥹

I hope you guys enjoy it! And as always, your reblogs/comments/kudos mean the world to me, please support your local insane fic writer. 🥹

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fic #klaus x caroline #kc fandom #kcfic #kcfanfiction #the originals rewriting #the wolf universe #yokan writes #holy shit i actually finished this!#can't believe it #no rly i did not think i would #last time using this ugly ass edit yoohoo!#now to find something else lol

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penvisions · 8 days

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🐎 small talking about …worst weather they’ve each been in, or best/favourite weather they each have. Everybody can talk about the weather, even grumpy Joel Miller…

@jessthebaker ooooh yes i LOVE this idea, even the grumpiest of grumpy joel miller can dad talk about the weather

word count: 1k (got a little carried away bc i love these two so much, oops)

warnings: horses be tricky, reader has phonophobia, thunder, storms, summer storms

a/n: this was so fun! i decided to write about their experiences with bad weather, but i made him not grumpy since well, i was feelin' like this would be a bit further along in their patrol partnership

series masterlist || main masterlist

“This pressure in the air is…” You trailed off as you gazed up at the darkened sky. The deep, moody gray having crawled across the sky to blanket the sun. Lightning burst to life on the horizon, making you freeze atop Lowry. The sweet horse so attuned to you that she paused in her slow, meandering steps.

Thunder boomed, echoing across the open plains, startling you even as you waited for the sound with a held breath.

“We should head back, storm’s comin’ in fast.” Joel regarded you atop his own horse, Kiana. She whinnied, not liking the direction he was turning her toward with gentle motions of the reigns. The hush of rain on the horizon was loud as it moved toward you both. Wetting the plains with fat droplets that did nothing to quell the humidity that had made the air dense and hard to breath. Intensifying the heat of the mid-summer day and almost instantly flooding the ground into a muddy mess.

“Yeah, good call.” Following his lead, you steered Lowry to turn around. It had been too slow a realization on both your parts, clothing soaked and sticking to your skin and weighing down your hair as you closed the distance back toward the settlement. With a piercing whistle just as you crested a slippery hill, Joel let the guards on duty know that you were back.

Laughter bubbled up from them underneath their makeshift protection against the rain atop the tall, foreboding wall that protected your town. You couldn’t help but share in their good moods despite the sudden shift in weather when you and Joel finally found yourselves underneath the eaves of the stables.

His graying curls were soaked, one of them so affected it looked like a ringlet as it fell over his forehead and flopped with his every move. Heat bloomed in your chest when he tossed you a mild glare, but the sparkle in his dark eyes told you he didn’t mind it so much.

“Alright, I get it, I look like a drowned rat.” He shoved at you lightly as you dismounted and began to tend to Lowery. She knickered before she shook out the water from her fur without warning. Kiana imitated her, pelting you both.

“Alright, enough.” His quiet command had the two horses baring their teeth in a true flehmen response.

“That the worst weather you been caught in?” You removed your wide brimmed hat, grateful for the little shield it had made over your hair and face. Until the horses had decided to mess around, picking up on the easy-going mood despite the rain.

“Nah, worst would be a snowstorm back in Boston. QZ hadn’t been prepared for it, we lost what little power we had for nearly two weeks.” He easily spoke as he began to tend to his own horse, rich velvet voice soothing with the backdrop of the hard rain. “Before that it had been…fix or six years ago when I was out on a run. Nearly got picked up by a tornado as I sought out shelter where I could.”

“Oh geez, that’s intense.” You hung up the saddle just outside of Lowrey’s nook, closing the tall door behind you and ensuring the lock latched shut.

“What about you?” You turned from where you had offered the appaloosa a handful of hay. The tickle of her soft, velvety muzzle bringing a smile to your face. Joel was hanging up his own saddle, detaching the supplies he had fastened to it. His shot gun still secured across his broad shoulders.

“Hands down the ice storm that hit my city before the year before the Outbreak. Entire thing shut down because ice was built up about three inches thick on every roadway and street. Then it hailed and snowed for a week straight. Took forever for it to thaw out with the temps below freezing for so long. It was a bad winter, that’s for sure. But we never lost power, thankfully.” Walking side by side, you stoon just inside the stables with the man. Both of you staring out at the sheet of steady rain coming down from the even darker sky. It looked like dusk, even though the day had been new and the sun had just risen a few hours ago.

“Chicago?” He looked over at you, eyes roving over your profile. He noticed how your long lashes stuck together, the way your clothing stuck to your skin. Stepping away he rummaged around the collection of items stored around the doorway. With a grunt of appreciation at his stroke of good luck, he presented you with a worn umbrella.

“Yeah, born and raised.” Your eyes held long felt emotions as you shook your head at his offering. With a tug, you secured your leather hat back atop your head. Fingers tipping the brim, you dismissed him. “Got my hat, you need it more.”

“Why don’t we share, sweetheart?”

“Joel Miller’s gonna walk me home in the rain.” The teasing tone of your voice may have been lost in the way your voice lilted but he didn’t seem to show if he noticed.

“Someone’s gotta protect you from the thunder.” A raised eyebrow, a challenge from the handsome man had you feeling weak in the knees. He was teasing you, he was actually being friendly with you and your stomach flipped. It had been so long since anyone outside of your extremely small circle had felt comfortable enough around you to do so.

“Y-yeah, I’m not the biggest fa-fan of loud noises.” One of your hands rubbed at the back of your neck, heat filling your cheeks as you realized he had noticed your twitch of every boom as you made your way back to the settlement.

“Don’t worry, I gotcha. But once the ice forms, you’re on your own.” His lips quirked up in a grin as he opened the umbrella and sidled back up beside you. With a small brush of your shoulders against his in silent retaliation, you both stepped out from under the safety of the stables and into the rain.

come celebrate the last chapter with dev!

taglist: @joelsgreys @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk @littlemisspascal @merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon

@keylimebeag @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc @part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel @blueberrylemon7 @maryrhodalouandted @joelsdagger @fluff-lover

@communism-bitches @slugz-writes-shit @mosssbawls @vie-is-punk

@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @r4vens-cl4ws @picketniffler @joeldjarin

#submission #dev answers #dev celebrates #fic: by the grit of sandpaper #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #final chapter celebration #oh look dev has a queue

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