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bluetimeombre · 3 months ago

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・❥ 'Are you Hugh down under?' p2

You and Hugh were the stars of the biggest movie, Wolverine and Ladypool, and fans love the two of you.

[Here's p2, thank you for loving the last one and being as obsessed as I am. I hope i got everyone on the tag list and the second part to Ladypool and Wolverine is on its way. Again this isn't proof read, this is just vibes. There's some sexual innuendos and sexist comments that Hugh is at the rescue for. Also, i'm British so half of these interviews just end up being British icons]

part one

You and Hugh being in love for twenty-five minutes (part two)

2017, Y/N heart monitor

You were doing an interview for your latest movie with Nick Grimshaw on BBC radio one. It was a new thing he'd come up with, trying it with you for the first time as you were hooked up to a heart rate monitor.

'Is it working?' asked Nick. 'Is she alive?'

You help him put the stickers onto you. 'It's like, there's nothing there,' you joke with them.

'She's a robot.'

The beeping began and it found your heart beating at a steady pace, a good start.

'So, I'm going to show you a series of images and we're just gonna see how you react to these images, ok?' he asked.

You grin, nerves kicking in. 'Ok.' It could have been anything. And boy were you right.

Some of them were fine, easy, normal. A picture of a co-star the heart rate was fine, a pair of shoes that you wore a lot, a picture of cash and an ex that had it risen but not alarmingly.

'And finally,' Nick picked up an image. 'Hugh Jackman! How does he make you feel?'

Your cheeks go red and you laugh. 'I hate you all so much, um, Hugh Jackman?' you were too busy laughing. Once you had made a joke about Wolverine and how good looking he was, now it was following you everywhere.

'Heartbeats rising!' Nick cheered as you covered your face. 'Heartbeats the highest it's ever been, eighty-five, up to ninety! One hundred!' he claps.

You bang your head on the table, finally finding control over yourself. 'I can't believe you all.'

Nick slid the picture over to you. 'Here, you can take that one home with you.'

'Thanks. He looks great there, doesn't he?' you say. 'A classic, Hugh Jackman picture.'

'Yeah, you like it?' he teased.

You grinned. 'That's going on my wall when I get home.'

The Graham Norton show

You and Hugh had walked out, waving at the adorning crowd that cheered as you took the sofa.

‘Hello! Hello!’ Graham called.

The two of you looked the pair as you smiled and sat next to each other in spite of the space on the sofa.

‘Sofa to ourselves, i like that,’ you say, lying back.

‘The other guests were too intimidated,’ said Graham. ‘Now, was the walk out ok for you guys, Hugh, are you happy?’ He asked.

Hugh frowned. The crowd laughed. ‘It was very good, thank you.’

‘Because, is it true- and Y/N correct me if I’m wrong, you had a specific song you walked out onto set with?’ He asked.

Immediately knowing what he was talking about, you laugh while Hugh hangs his head and sighs.

You sat straight and took to explaining while patting his back. ‘You see, it’s very tough for Hugh to get into character as Wolverine sometimes. So the only way was to get him out the trailer was to play a specific song.’

‘Ok, ok so shall we do it again, this time with the song?’ Graham proposed. He ushered you both backstage, Hugh squeezing your shoulders as you went.

‘Whatta a man’ by salt and pepper started playing and you led the way out for Hugh who danced his way out. The crowd clapped along as Hugh shows his moves and ended with dipping.

‘Oh wonderful!’ Graham called as the two of you took your seats again.

For the rest of the interview thing went very smoothly.

‘Now is is true that the first time you met, Hugh, you didn’t actually meet Y/N?’

Hugh again huffed and shook his head. ‘This show is all to embarrass me, isn’t it?’

‘Makes a change honestly,’ you say.

Hugh looked back to you and started to tell the story. Through out, his body had moved toward you, his entire presence facing you despite talking out to everyone. ‘When I first walked on set, you know, at the ready, I was very excited to be there and even more excited to meet this wonderful lady here. And I got suited up, you know, went to hair and makeup and one of our first shots was quite a challenging one, a big stunt.’

‘Big,’ you agreed, taking a sip of your drink. You knew where the story was going.

‘Yea, so anyway, I walk over to Y/N whose already in her suit. Looks great by the way. Anyway so I start introducing myself and saying hello and how thankful I am for being here, a real heart to heart you know-‘ he says, ‘and then Y/N walked in and i realized I’d been speaking to her stunt double the whole time- whole time!’

The crowd laugh as do you, almost choking on your drink.

Wolverine and Ladypool press:

You and Hugh sat with each other all day doing press. You kept it light with jokes between the two of you, working through the people and questions.

One particular interviewer just had to get his answers though. ‘So your suit,’ he starts, looking to you. ‘It’s very tight and eventuated several parts of you, did you find that hard to manoeuvre around?’

Hugh answered before you had the chance to open your mouth. ‘I found it very easy to move around in. You know, first x-men movie, not so much but these suits, are perfect.’

The guy chuckled, it was clearly forced but you thanked Hugh for taking the question, patting his knee. ‘Can you wear like panties with them or thongs, cause they are skin tight.’

‘I’ll take this one!’ Said Hugh again. ‘I go commando, but that’s just because I like it.’

‘He does, he does like it,’ you nod, grinning. ‘He’s going commando right now actually.’

The guy tried one more time to ask you a question about the suit. At this rate, your entire body turned to face Hugh. ‘Do you feel sexy in the suit?’ He asked you.

‘Very,’ said Hugh.

After that, Hugh made several vulgar comments when you were alone, but luckily for you, Hugh was your own superhero.

Buzzfeed quiz

'Hello!' you greet the camera, holding your phone to your chest. 'I'm something-something Jackman.'

'And i'm the greatest actress of all time,' said Hugh.

You deflated, looking at him. 'Oh, well now I just look like a dick.'

'No, it's ok,' he shrugged. 'One of us has to look like a dick.'

The two of you were doing quizzes for Buzzfeed, answering if you're more Ladypool or Wolverine. Although you were sat next to each other, you'd both craned your bodies back so the other couldn't see what you were putting in, like it was a test.

'We're really competitive with each other,' Hugh told the crew.

'Yeah, not with anybody else, but I have to- I just have to prove i'm better than Hugh Jackman at something,' you said.

'Who are you hoping to get?' asked the lady behind the camera.

'Oh, Ladypool, obviously,' you said.

Hugh nodded along, watching you. (Did this man ever not look at you?) 'I wouldn't be angry about getting Ladypool either.'

You tut. 'So quick to betray yourself.'

If you could have a super power, what would you chose?

You read through the options. 'I think telekinesis,' you said. 'Mainly just because I'm lazy and it would be so easy to pick up the tv remote or close the curtains. Very practical.'

'Yeah, that's a good one,' Hugh hummed about it for longer. 'Maybe healing ability.'

You roll your eyes, throwing your head back. 'That's such a Wolverine answer!'

'I know, but I'm getting old, be nice for things to not hurt a lot,' he said.

Who's your favourite MCU character?

Hugh scanned the options. 'I er, don't see Wolverine on here?' he looked around at the crew behind the camera's shaking his head.

'Can't get the staff these days- oh my god Spider-Man's on here!' you cheered, distracted.

'She loves Spider-Man,' Hugh told the camera.

'I do. I really do,' you agreed. 'If it wasn't gonna be Wolvie, it was gonna be Spidey,' you look into the camera, holding your phone to your ear, mimicking for Andrew Garfield to call you.

Hugh dragged his finger of his neck in a cutting off motion if he ever did.

Who do you pick to be your road-trip buddy?

'You have to pick the Wolverine, c'mon,' Hugh nudged you.

You looked through the options which all considered x-men. You hesitated, humming. 'I dunno.'

'We had great fun in the car!'

A red blush took over your cheeks as you re-called the multiple, multiple takes you and Hugh had to do. Hugh saw this and draped his arm over the back of your chair.

'Yeah, but that was- that was different, this is a roadtrip not a porn video in a car,' you joked. 'And Wolverine's like so serious, Rogue, she's so fun.'

'Woah, woah,' Hugh paused everything. 'Rogue is great, don't get me wrong. But who's better!' he pointed at himself. 'Wolverine's not grumpy with you, he loves you!'

You look over at him, grinning sweetly. 'No, you love me and it's judging your character.' For five minutes, the two of you argued over who you'd rather have as a road-trip buddy. Most of it got sped up during the video. 'Ok, fine, I pick Wolverine. Who are you picking?'

'Charles,' said Hugh even though Ladypool was on the list.

You faced the camera, mouth hung open as Hugh laughed loudly and gave you a side hug, assuring you it was a joke but he still clicked on Charles!

Which musical number would you want to perform with your 'Wolverine and Ladypool' cast mate?

'Oh, some great choices!' boasted Hugh as he read through them all.

You smile at him, eyes softening. 'You've awakened the musical theatre beast.'

'Y/n, there's so many good choices! What do we pick?!' he grabbed your hand and squeezed as you watched him with joy.

There was a few choices: 'Love is an Open Door,' from Frozen, 'The other side,' which Hugh obviously did for The Greatest showman. But there was also 'The Love Melody' from Moulin Rouge and 'You're the one that I want,' from Grease and when you both saw that you gave each other a look and knew which one you were picking.

By the end when your results came up you cheered and punched the air, practically jumping out you seat. 'Ladypool! God, this felt like my audition for the character all over again,' you wipe pretend sweat from your brows. 'What did you get?'

Hugh showed you his phone. 'Ladypool! I got Ladypool!'

'We're so alike!' you entwined your fingers. Slowly and dramatically the two of you leant in, pretending you were going in for what would have been a very wet kiss before you both pulled back and explained your answers.

You and Hugh with Alison Hammond again!

The interview with the two of you and Alison Hammond was pretty much the two of you flirting and Alison fangirling. Fans couldn't stop editing it together.

'Ok so obviously there's been a lot of competition between the two of you, so we need to settle who's better once and for all,' said Alison. 'So i've got a series of challenges for the two of you to complete but there's a twist.'

'We're naked!' said Hugh causing you to laugh. 'No, sorry.'

Alison handed you both each a boxing glove. 'I want you to put one on each and sign your autographs, which ever is close wins the point.'

'You're on, Jackman,' you said, already sliding your hand into the boxing glove.

Hugh gave you a cocky smile. 'I am so gonna win this, you know why? Cause you've given me a right boxing glove, but i'm left-handed!' he quickly got to scribbling his autograph.

'Fuck!' you cursed, struggling with your own. (It was bleeped out on this morning).

When you handed them both back to Alison it was obvious who the winner was. 'Thanks for this guys, it'll do numbers on Ebay.'

The two of you practically topple on each other with how hard you laugh.

Next you had to try to open a bottle of water with your gloves on and pour it into glasses and try drinking from it, both of which you failed at. Then the two of you just started fighting each other so Alison called it off like she was your teacher in a rowdy class.

'So, as I am a morning presenter, I thought I'd see how good the two of you would be if you had your own Hugh and Y/N morning show- so here's some guards, scoot closer, scoot closer,' said Alison.

The two of you took the cards and moved your chairs together until your thighs were pressed together. You waited for your cue before the two of you began your audition for your own morning show.

Hugh threw his arm around your shoulder, drawing you in.

'No, Hugh,' you denied, 'we must be professional on tv!'

Alison cackled. 'Yeah, you wouldn't do that on tv.'

Hugh looked offended at the both of you. 'We're re-defining what it means!'

You push him off you and hit him with your cards.

Hugh assesses the camera. 'Where's the shot? Above our chests, perfect, so I can do this.' And he puts his hand on your thigh, sprawling it out as you bite your lip to stop the grin.

'I'm taking this audition seriously, Hugh!'

Finally, the two of you start, acting as if it was a real morning show while Alison gave you pointers.

'Did you have a good weekend?' Hugh asked you (in reality all your weekends had been spent in his company) 'What did you get up to?'

You shrug. 'Nothing much.'

'No,' he interrupted causing you and Alison to laugh. 'When I ask a generic how was your weekend, you have to tell me a great funny story that we've set up before. So, Y/N, what did you do on your weekend?'

'I went fishing,' you said the first thing that popped into your head.

'Did you fall in?' he asked.

'I fell in.'

'That's hilarious!' the way he said it and the way he looked into the camera, caring about it just made you laugh so bad. 'Don't go anywhere, we'll see you after the break!' you were still laughing when Hugh wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck, making kissing noises and hiding behind the cards.

Even more at the premier

You and Hugh stood next to each other, him keeping an arm around your waist as you both listened to the interviewer ask you questions.

'So, Y/N, we found this interview from 2017 and we thought Hugh might like to take a look at it,' they said, pulling out their phone and clicking on a video.

As soon as it started playing, you knew what it was. 'Oh god.' you hid yourself, turning to Hugh as he watched.

It was the famous heart-rate monitor interview, where, when you saw a picture of a shirtless Hugh Jackman, your heart-rate spiked higher than any other picture.

Hugh was smiling the whole time and beamed at you when the video finished. 'You have that effect on me,' he assured you, leaning his head on top of yours and smiling at the interviewer.

'Y/N, do you still feel that way when you look at him now?' they asked.

'More,' you said, speaking loudly over all the noise. 'I feel it ten times more.'

And fans, anyone, could see how much the two of you were in love. Whether it was just flirting or if it was real, it was there and everyone was happy for you.

As the two of you walked off, the camera followed you. Hugh's head was bowed low, seemingly taking low to you as his arm remained around your waist and yours came up to rub his back up and down. He laughed loudly at something you had said before dropping a kiss to the top of your head and continuing on the journey.

(there probably won't be part three but I'm working on another compilation with you and Hugh)

taglist (thank you all!): @geeksareunique, @angstdaddy, @tranquilty, @gotta-go-now, @pear-1206, @chronicallybubbly

#deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #x men #hugh jackman x reader #deadpool wolverine #logan james howlett #logan #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman wolverine

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alisonwritesimagines · 4 months ago

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Second Chance ~Logan Howlett Imagine~

Summary: Logan meets you. A variant of his dead wife.

Author’s Note: I won't lie, Hugh Jackman was hotter in the early 2000s.

Part Two

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE, mentions of character deaths, mentions of sexual innuendos

Do not repost this anywhere!

A new start for Logan was just what he needed. And thanks to the TVA, Laura was able to join him in the universe Wade was originally from. So this was a new start for the two of them. And to celebrate their success in saving the universe, Wade decided to have a pizza dinner party with all his friends so Logan and Laura can get to know them.

"We are missing one more person," Wade noticed as he looked around.

"Y/n will be coming soon. She had to deal with something first," Yukio tells him.

"Thank you, Yukio," Wade smiled at her.

"Y/n?" Logan asked Wade.

"Oh you are going to love her. Everyone does," Wade tells him. "You too Mary Puppins."

Ten minutes later, you finally showed up.

"As an apology for coming late, I made my famous brownies!" You announced as you handed the plate with the chocolate goods to Negasonic Teenage Warhead.

Logan looked over to see that the stranger who walked in felt like a walking corpse to him. His smile drained from his face as he stared at you who was greeting the people you knew.

"Y/n! I want you to meet our new friends! Logan and Laura," Wade said. It felt like a cheesy rom com slow motion turn to Logan. But he was still enchanted by your beauty.

"It's nice to meet you both," you smiled at them.

"It's nice to meet you too," Laura said as she shook your hand.

"Please excuse me," Logan said as he walked out. Your smile fell a little as you watched the man walk out. You looked back at Wade who had a confused look as well.

"I will be right back. But here. Meet Mary Puppins," Wade said as he handed the dog over to you.

Wade rushed out of the apartment to find Logan outside.

"Hey! What was that? You just ran out on one of the best people I have ever met. She is tied with Peter and Yukio," Wade tells him.

"I didn't realize you had a version of her here," Logan tells him.

"What are you talking about?" Wade asked him.

"Y/n. She was my wife in my universe," Logan explains to him.

"No shit. You were married?" Wade asked him in shock.

"She was also killed because of me."

"This one is different."

"And how's that?" Logan asked him.

"She's a really big badass here," Wade tells him.

"She was in my universe too. But I still let her and everyone down."

"This one could be different."

"I don't know."

"Why don't you come back upstairs and have pizza and get to know her?" Wade offered.

"I think I'm gonna stay out here for a bit," Logan tells him.

"Alright."

Wade headed back upstairs, leaving Logan all alone. Not fifteen minutes later, you came outside with a plate of pizza and a brownie piece and a beer.

"You are missing the pizza and my brownies which Wade was mostly eating all of them," you tell Logan as you handed the food and drink to him.

"Thanks."

"Are you okay? Did I do something?" You asked him.

"No. It's just... you look like someone and it's bringing back some memories for me," Logan tells you.

"Oh. Do you want to talk about it? If it makes you feel better, Wade has told me weirder things and more depressing things," you tell him. Logan let out a small chuckle.

"Maybe not now. I'm sorry for running out while you were introducing yourself."

"That's okay. Let's reintroduce ourselves. I'm Y/n. It's nice to meet you," you smiled at him.

"It's nice to meet you too. I'm Logan."

"Hi Logan. So, did you have to suffer with Wade alone for a couple of days too?" You asked him. Logan laughed a little.

"Yeah. I did."

"I can tell. You have a tired look on you," you laughed a little. Logan smiled softly, hearing your laugh. It was no different from his universe's you.

"You know, the party is upstairs and we are missing it," you tell him.

"That's true. Let's go," Logan said as he followed you back upstairs.

During the party, you sat next to Vanessa as you both were catching up. Logan kept looking at you whenever he could as he talked to Laura.

"You like her," Laura tells Logan loud enough for only him to hear.

"Come on kid," Logan groaned a little.

"She's pretty. And Wade talked to her about letting me stay with her and the other X-Men," Laura tells him.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Apparently she's a good teacher both education wise and powers wise," Laura tells him.

"She always was," Logan said, looking back at you. Your eyes met Logan's, making you smile at him.

"Oh he's cute. You should totally get with him when you can," Vanessa encouraged.

"You think I should?" You asked her.

"Yes! Plus he's handsome," Vanessa nudged.

"And his abs are amazing," Wade mentioned to you. You looked at Vanessa who also had the same look of interested with you.

At the end, you grabbed your bag and jacket before saying goodbye to Blind Al and Wade.

"You ready to check out the school?" You asked Laura.

"Yeah."

"Can I actually ask you something before you leave, Y/n?" Logan asked you.

"Sure. What's up?" You asked as you walked over to him.

"Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?" Logan asked you. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled happily.

"Yeah. I'd like that. Here's my number," you tell him as you wrote it down really quickly for him.

"Call me."

"I will."

"Alright. I'll see you soon hopefully," you tell him.

"See you soon."

"Bye, Logan," Laura waved at him before following you out.

"So, are you two just going to adopt Laura and start a family?" Wade asked him.

"Leave it."

"Just letting you know, she likes it rough in bed."

"You and her had sex?"

"Nope. But I did overhear her and Vanessa talk about what they liked in the bed one time," Wade tells him. "And trust me. She may look sweet and innocent, but she is a bit of a masochist."

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine imagine #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman imagines #xmen #xmen imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #alisonwritesimagines

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idolomantises · 4 months ago

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Wasn't sure when it would be the best time to discuss this, but since the ending is drawing near... yes, Bugtopia is ending.

It was a decision I really wrestled with myself for months over it, before finally concluding that letting it end after 40 episodes was the better option. Just to be clear, webtoons did not force me to end the series. They even offered to give me a pay raise to continue the series. It was my decision due to a multitude of personal factors. I'll just repeat what I said on my patreon:

I just want to say, first of all, thank you all so much for patiently waiting for my series to release and for supporting my work as I began developing the series. Bugtopia was a series I genuinely loved and adored and it made me feel so incredibly happy that people were turning their heads towards a series about weird bugs and their natural lives.

However, as you can probably guess, it pains me to say that I am concluding the series after season 1. I had 4 seasons planned with new characters to introduce, but unfortunately, I cannot see myself continuing to work with Webtoons and I want to pursue other projects.

This decision was due to a compiling number of issues with the company, the final straw was when they had a mass layoff, fired my editor that I've been working with for two years, and did not inform me for a week, leaving me in the dark until they randomly assigned me with someone else. My new editor is great and I'm glad I'm working with someone so patient and understanding, but this decision to fire my previous editor, the one who got me the job to begin with, without prior warning made me feel disrespected and disregarded, and it killed all motivation I had for properly completing the series.

I also felt incredibly overworked, I was spending vacation days working on comics and avoiding time with family just so I could get something done for webtoons once I come home. I feel like so much time was being wasted away for a company that paid me so little that I had to work twice as hard building up funds on my patreon. Bugtopia just ate up so much of my time. The pay also didn't make up for it. It's commonly assumed that webtoons authors make about $800 for the episodes they do, but that's not true. In fact, you can make far less depending on the amount of panels expected for your contract. It doesn't help that the artwork i did for banners and promotions were all things I had to draw and didn't get paid for, and the work I gave was either tampered with or scrapped, making me feel like I spent more hours of my day wasting time. There were also comics I had to censor and scrap, likely due to another series being in hot water for its racially insensitive content. But it was just extra work I wasn't being paid for. It also frustrated me because I was seeing other series with far more explicit content getting away with a slap on the wrist (turns out you can't say "fuck" anymore without it being hit with a mature rating, disappointing!)

In all honesty, it just felt like webtoons needed me more than I needed them. I was making more money from patreon in a week than I was making from webtoons in a month.

Personally, while I don't really regret my time with Webtoons and met some great people along the way, I honestly don't think any artist should work with them. You will be severely overworked and underpaid, and will barely be featured in ads unless your series becomes an instant hit immediately. It doesn't really matter how successful you are, you're just a product to Webtoons, put yourself above the corporation.

I have tried my best to provide you all with a satisfying conclusion to Bugtopia, even if some episodes may feel rushed or incomplete, but I completely understand if the conclusion isn't to your liking and I do apologize, but I could not continue working on this series if this was the mistreatment I was going to continuously get. I owe a massive thank you to my editor and assistants for helping me complete the series, I truly don't think I could have ever finished it without them.

Though I am done with Bugtopia, that does not mean I want to stop projects entirely, so please don't feel bad for me. I have a lot of upcoming projects and ideas in the works, and I'm still continuing the Monsters and Girls series.

Will Bugtopia ever return... possibly. I retain complete ownership of the series after a few years, and I wouldn't mind continuing the canvas series (or possibly starting over). Unfortunately I don't think I can continue the Webtoon Original as it belongs to webtoons now, but never say never I suppose!

#txt #bugtopia #sorry for the very long post but i wanted to be thorough

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kazvha · 8 months ago

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hiiii I loveee your blog sm <3

could you do bllk character introducing you (as the gf) to their teammates

{especially kaiser, Rin, sae and ness but anyone else is fine to}

have a lovely day!!!

Summary: Introducing you to his teammates

Including: Kaiser, Rin, Sae & Ness

Notes: Thank you & have a nice day too!!💐

MICHAEL KAISER

• I don't think he would even introduce you to his teammates, they would have to find out for themselves who you are and why Kaiser is always around you

• "Michael! Who is she?"

• Ness would immediately introduce you as Michael's amazing girlfriend, bragging about how great Kaiser is to be the only one on the team with a partner

• And Kaiser would tell Ness to shut up, sling an arm around your waist, and warn his mates,

"Now that you know that she's my girlfriend... Do one thing to annoy her and you will regret it."

ITOSHI RIN

• It was really noticeable when suddenly Rin, the lone wolf, was always around a pretty girl

• His teammates became curious and wanted to tease him, "Rin! Seems like you finally found your soulmate, huh!"

• Rin reacted clearly irritated, "Hah? What about it?"

• Before the situation could escalate, you pushed your boyfriend behind you and introduced yourself with a polite smile

• "Hey guys! I'm [name] and yeah, you're right about me being Rin's soulmate."

• "You don't need to talk to them [name], let's go."

ITOSHI SAE

• You visited him for the first time during his training

• His teammates noticed this straight away since he was usually alone, so they approached you two curiously and asked, "Hahaha Sae! Who is this beautiful lady next to you?"

• "This is my girlfriend.", he stated blankly.

• They were expecting more of a reaction from him, but that was all he said

• So they bombarded you with other questions "How long do you already know each other?", "How did you meet?", "When did you start dating?", "How do you manage to stay in contact?", etc.

• You answered their questions in the shortest sentences as possible while Sae wasn't willing to say anything more. At the end you were both annoyed because they interrupted your time alone

ALEXIS NESS

• Would definitely introduce you to Kaiser first

• "Michael! Schau mal!* This is my new girlfriend! I met her at ..., and ..." He wouldn't stop talking until Kaiser interrupted him, saying he didn't care

• Then he introduced you to his other mates who also didn't care

• "Guys! Look at my girlfriend! Isn't she pretty?"

• All they did was glance in your direction for a second, then return to what they did before

• Ness became annoyed but you quickly reassured him, "It's okay Alex, don't you think it's better if you're the only one who has eyes for me?"

• His eyes regained their twinkle. "Yes! You're so right!"

* "Look!"

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hannieehaee · 4 months ago

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HOT TO GO! (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 461 (teaser); 7.1k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: september 12th

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: this is mostly word vomit but i enjoyed writing jk's character for this one<3

masterlist

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

...

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#jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts smut

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logansdoll · 4 months ago

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Heyyy. Ok really cheesy but I’d like to request a Logan x reader friends to lovers where it’s like an accidental confession. Maybe someone makes fun of the reader and Logan without thinking about it just starts yelling and defending why the reader is great and everything he loves about her? Ik it’s a little OOC but maybe he gets so mad (as Wolverine does) that he gets all mushy without realizing lol. Thanks ❤️❤️

lotus

while on library duty, Logan overhears two girls talking shit about you... and corrects it quickly.

CW: sorry i went in a little different direction, suggestive, profanity, takes place during the timeline of the og X-Men, these girls are bitches, etc.

"I just don't get what's the big deal about her," Maya scoffed, resting her cheek in her palm as she thoughtlessly flipped through her biology textbook.

Talia nodded, glancing up from her notes with an excitement that screamed nothing to do.

"No, seriously," she agreed. "Like we get it... you can grow shit. Big deal."

That piqued Logan's interest.

With Jean and Scott off on a date, the professor away, and you and Ororo teaching a joint class, he was slapped with library duty—watching the kids during their scheduled study period.

Now, originally, he planned on simply plopping himself down in a corner and puffing his cigar, hoping to fall asleep and just ride out his sentence.

And he was halfway there, too.

But just as he was about to catch some Zs, his hearing picked up on a conversation between two older girls who seemed to be trash talking his girlfriend.

"Word," Maya turned the next page, a grimace settling on her face when she noticed the image of a flower.

One you were very vocal about liking.

"She won't shut up about these stupid lotus flowers either... Hey! Did you guys know that the lotus is considered sacred in many Eastern cultures? And it often symbolizes purity, beauty, and rebirth!"

Talia let out an obnoxious snicker, the impression not nearly as funny as what she was making it to be.

But maybe she just hated you that much...

"You sound just like her," she commended, very much amused. "Only she's always smiling. Like I've never seen her frown before... it's almost creepy."

"Seriously creepy. But Peter can't get enough of it... you know he has a crush on her, right?"

"Seriously?!"

Logan let out a quiet chuckle, tickled by the news.

He'd caught the boy staring at you during a few Danger Room sessions, but didn't think much of it, assuming he'd just caught him while he happened to be looking in your direction.

Oh, how wrong he was...

He couldn't wait to tell you later tonight.

"Mhmm. Half the boys at school nearly fall over themselves to make sure they're not late to her class... It's almost funny."

"Funny, my ass. Why'd it have to be Peter?" Talia huffed, tossing her pencil at the textbook in frustration. "She's not even that pretty. I've had dogs that look better than her."

Maya attempted to muffle a snicker, but Logan heard it loud and clear, his brows furrowing at the horrible comment.

"I'm serious. She puts up this whole nice and innocent act, but I bet she's a raging bitch behind closed doors."

That was it.

All the stuff before was just normal, teenage jealousy; something he'd—albeit reluctantly—let slide.

But calling you out of your name?

Insulting your character?

Comparing you to a dog?

A line had to be drawn.

"Tali, you can't say that," Maya chuckled, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.

"Like I care," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I'd tell it to her face if I ever got the chance. Just walk right up to her and say—"

"Say what?"

The girls nearly jumped out their skin, whipping around, only to be met by Logan's arched brow, the man leaning up against a bookshelf as he puffed on his cigar.

They were at a loss for words, unable to say anything under his imposing presence.

"Don't get shy now," he goaded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go on. Tell me what you're gonna say to Dr. (l/n)."

The two were practically frozen, frantically glancing at each other for assistance, Logan's eyes flicking between the two expectantly.

"Nothing?" he hummed. "That's funny... 'cause you both seemed to have plenty of shit to say earlier."

Both their faces fell almost instantly, the color practically draining from Talia.

"You heard that?" Maya squeaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Every word," Logan nodded. "And what I managed to gather from it was that you both just can't stand her because she's kind, passionate, pretty, and beloved."

He listed each trait off on his fingers, glancing at the two for confirmation.

"How's that? Am I in the ballpark?"

They remained silent, hanging their heads in embarrassment as Logan's confrontation had garnered the attention of the whole library.

"Well, then, how's this..." he pulled the cigar out his mouth. "I'll let you both off this time with a warning... but if I catch either of you trash talkin' anybody again, teacher or student, you're grounded."

"'Til when?" Talia asked, nervously.

"'Til I tell you you're not."

The end of day bell punctuated his statement, a flourish of shutting books and closing pencil cases muffling the girls' sighs of relief.

"Now get outta here."

He had never seen two students pack up so fast.

They were gone in T-minus ten, and once the library was cleared out, Logan allowed himself to sit down, letting out his own sigh.

He could've tore into them infinitely worse—and he honestly wanted to for that dog comment—but he figured that was the right, and legal, amount for a teacher.

But even still...

'I dunno how a girl who can only float two inches off the ground is talkin' about (n/n) havin' a shitty power...'

#james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #x men x reader #wolverine

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natsaffection · 4 months ago

Note

Im glad i’m not the only one who saw 4ngel1v’s ai pics!! It just brewed up another idea! I told you it would be soon.

Think about Gp Nat as a beefy bodyguard and reader is like a famous singer or actor🤷‍♀️. And they didn’t meet on great terms, but reader ends up hiring nat and whatever it was between them grew. But thing is that they couldn't distinguish their tension from hate. One thing that reader could distinguish though, was Nats jealousy. SO LIKE A YKYK ENEMIES TO LOVERS BUT RLLY SLOW PROCESS TO LOVERS n smuttyy🤭

“What’s with the attitude, you weren’t as grumpy earlier?”

“Loosen up a little, it’s fine to be a risky once in a while, Natasha”

“You’re giving me a handjob at YOUR premiere. We’re thinking of two different versions of risky.”

-💋

I'm not going anywhere. | N.R

Bodyguard!Natasha x Younger!Actress!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, Age gap ( R is 22 and Nat is 32) Inappropriate behavior, so much teasing, kinda handjob, begging, rough sex, pet names, angst

Word Count: 9,5k

A/N: Okay, when this is posted I'll be driving 200 km/h on the highway for the next 36 hours. So I hope everything works out, because I don't have the chance to reply right now 🫶🏼🥸

Thank you my lovely anon, you served again 🌚 I really enjoyed writing this, even though I was very carried away

You were born and raised in a small, picturesque town in the heart of the countryside. Your parents, both teachers, instilled a love of learning and creativity in you from an early age. Your mother, an English teacher, often read you classic literature at bedtime, sparking a lifelong passion for storytelling. Your father, a drama teacher, introduced you to the world of theater and encouraged you to participate in school plays and local theater productions.

As a child, you were curious and imaginative, often inventing elaborate stories and characters in your head. You were very popular in your community for your kind heart and lively personality. Despite your small-town upbringing, you always dreamed of something bigger and longed for the excitement and opportunities that lay beyond the boundaries of your hometown.

At 16, your life took a decisive turn when you attended a summer acting camp. The camp was located in a bustling city, a stark contrast to your quiet hometown. There, you met aspiring actors, directors, and producers and for the first time, felt like you belonged. Your talent was quickly recognized by the camp leaders, who encouraged you to pursue a career in acting.

Upon returning home, you were more determined than ever to follow your dreams. You participated in every theater production you could to hone your craft and build a portfolio of diverse roles. Your parents, though initially concerned about the uncertainty of an acting career, wholeheartedly supported you and believed in your talent and dedication.

At 18, you moved to Los Angeles, the hub of the entertainment industry. The transition was daunting, you were a small-town girl in a sprawling, fast-paced city. You faced numerous rejections and challenges, working several part-time jobs to make ends meet while attending auditions and acting classes.

Your perseverance paid off when you landed a small role in an independent film. Though the role was minor, your performance caught the attention of a prominent casting director. Impressed by your natural talent and screen presence, the director recommended you for an audition for an upcoming blockbuster film from a major studio.

Nervous but excited, you gave your best at the audition. Weeks later, you received the life-changing news: you were cast in the lead role of the blockbuster film. The film was a huge success and catapulted you into the spotlight, making you an overnight sensation.

The sudden fame was overwhelming. You went from an anonymous aspiring actress to a celebrity constantly in the public eye. Paparazzi followed your every move, tabloids speculated about your private life, and fans demanded autographs and selfies everywhere you went. Although you were grateful for your success and the opportunities it brought, the lack of privacy and constant scrutiny were challenging.

Despite the challenges, you remained grounded, thanks to the support of your family and close friends. You continued to focus on your craft, taking on diverse roles to prove your versatility as an actress. You also used your platform to advocate for causes you believed in, earning you respect and admiration beyond your acting abilities

You are known for your down-to-earth personality and genuine kindness. You cherish your close circle of friends and often retreat to your hometown to escape the pressures of Hollywood and reconnect with your roots. Your parents remain your biggest supporters, proud of your achievements but always reminding you of the values they instilled in you.

In your free time, you enjoy reading, painting, and exploring new hobbies. You are a passionate traveler and find inspiration in the various cultures and stories you encounter. Despite your fame, you strive to lead a relatively normal life and appreciate the simple pleasures that keep you grounded.

4 years later.

The evening of the premiere was a whirlwind of flashing cameras, excited fans, and palpable excitement in the air. You, dressed in a stunning gown that perfectly captured your rising star status, had just finished a series of red carpet interviews. You felt a mix of excitement and nerves; this night was special not only because of the premiere of your new film but also because you were nominated for an award for another project. It could be the night you finally take home the coveted trophy.

As the event continued, you felt the familiar but inconvenient need to use the restroom. The premiere was in full swing, and you needed to be on stage soon. You made your way through the bustling crowd, your heels clicking on the polished marble floor of the grand theater.

Finally, you spotted the restroom sign and quickened your pace. But as you reached the door, you encountered an imposing figure: a tall, striking woman with piercing eyes and an aura of authority. Dressed in black, the woman stood guard in front of the restroom door, her stance rigid and alert.

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," you said, trying to maintain your polite demeanor despite the urgency of your situation.

The woman, whom you would later learn was Natasha Romanoff, did not move. "The restroom is occupied." Natasha replied sharply and unyieldingly. "Okay, surely there is a second stall..." you pleaded, glancing at the closed door behind Natasha.

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly. "You'll wait.“ Your patience was running thin. You were a rising star and not used to being dismissed so abruptly. "Come on, I need to go, please. This is really important."

Natasha's expression remained unmoved, her voice cold and professional. "I don't care where you need to go. My instruction is to ensure no one enters until it's clear. Now step back."

Frustration boiled within you. You couldn't believe this woman didn't recognize you, given the number of posters and billboards plastered with your face. "Listen, I understand you have a job to do, but so do I. And if I can't use the restroom right now, there will be a disaster."

Natasha smiled and leaned in slightly, "Then you'll have to hold it, sweetheart."

You were taken aback by the dismissive tone. You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could say anything, the door behind Natasha opened, and another actress emerged, thanking Natasha for her vigilance. The actress’s eyes widened when she saw you.

"Oh my God, Y/N! Congratulations on the nomination, I loved your performance in the last film.“ the women gushed, clearly impressed. You forced a smile, still simmering with frustration. "Thank you. I'd love to chat, but I really need to use the restroom." The women looked at Natasha with a mix of surprise and something different. "Did you talked to her?“

Natasha's gaze remained unwavering and ignoring the question of the Women. „The restroom is free now." she said, stepping aside without acknowledging the women’s comment. You didn't waste a second and hurried past Natasha with a grateful nod. Inside the restroom, you took a moment to breathe, still fuming from the encounter but also somehow fascinated by the unyielding bodyguard.

When you emerged a few minutes later, you felt much calmer. Natasha was still there, like a sentinel. You couldn't help but feel a sense of challenge. You weren't used to being treated like an ordinary person, and part of you found Natasha's attitude both infuriating and refreshing. Without a word, you walked past Natasha, not giving her a second glance. As you walked away, you heard Natasha call after you: "Next time, plan better."

Your cheeks flushed with anger. You clenched your fists and kept walking, refusing to give Natasha the satisfaction of a response. The audacity of this woman! You couldn't believe how rude and dismissive she had been.

The energy in the grand theater was electric. The audience buzzed with excitement as the prestigious awards ceremony reached its climax. You, still feeling the irritation from the encounter with Natasha, took a deep breath as you awaited the announcement of the award. The presenter, a well-known acting veteran, took the stage and held the envelope containing the winner's name. "And the award for Best Actress goes to..." He paused for dramatic effect, letting the suspense build. "Y/N L/N!"

The room erupted in applause and cheers. Your heart raced as you stood up, your initial frustration forgotten in the wave of exhilaration. You moved gracefully to the stage, your gown sparkling under the bright lights. As you accepted the trophy, you couldn't help but smile at the outpouring of admiration and support from your peers and fans.

With the trophy in hand, you took a moment to collect your thoughts before beginning your speech. "Wow, this is incredible. I can hardly believe I'm standing here holding this award. First, I want to thank the cast and crew who made this film possible. You are all amazing, and I couldn't have done this without you."

As you continued your speech, your eyes wandered over the crowd, taking in the sea of faces. Then you saw her. Natasha. Despite the distance, Natasha's piercing gaze was unmistakable. Your smile faltered for a brief moment, but you quickly recovered. Natasha watched you intently, a slight smile on her lips. When your eyes met, Natasha winked.

The gesture, small but significant, sent a wave of annoyance through you. You could feel your cheeks heat up, not from embarrassment, but from the irritating coolness of the woman who had previously dismissed you so rudely. You continued your speech, trying to ignore the irritation under your calm facade.

"...And finally, I want to thank my family and friends for their unwavering support. You believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself. This award belongs to you as much as it does to me. Thank you all." With a final wave, you stepped off the stage, your mind racing. The applause followed you, but your thoughts were fixated on Natasha. It was infuriating.

Backstage, you were surrounded by well-wishers and photographers, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Natasha. You couldn't shake the feeling that your paths would cross again in a significant way..

A few days after the awards ceremony, your agent called you with concerning news. "Y/N, we need to talk about your safety for your tour. There have been some..incidents." You frowned, recalling the increasing number of intrusive paparazzi and overly enthusiastic fans. "What kind of incidents?"

"Threatening letters, suspicious individuals trying to get close to you. It's getting serious, and we think it's time for you to consider a professional bodyguard." You sighed. The idea of having a bodyguard felt like a double-edged sword. You valued your privacy, but recent events had made you feel vulnerable. "Alright, who do you have in mind?"

Your agent hesitated for a moment. "There's someone highly recommended, but she has a... unique style. Natasha Romanoff.“ Your eyes widened. "You must be joking."

"No? She's one of the best in the field. Her methods are unconventional, but she gets results. Given the current situation, I think she's the right person for the job, plus she’s available now.“ Your mind raced back to the Gala night, the unyielding stance, the cold demeanor, and that infuriating wink. But if Natasha was as good as they said, it might be worth a try. Reluctantly, you agreed.

The next morning, Natasha arrived punctually at the agreed time at your residence. Dressed in her usual black, she looked every bit the seasoned professional. You opened the door, your expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "So, we meet again." Natasha nodded, her face impassive. "Hello, sweetheart. Patience today?"

You crossed your arms and stood firm. "Just so we're clear, I don't need you to treat me like a child. I can take care of myself." Natasha's lips twitched into a barely perceptible smile. "Noted. But my job is to protect you, even if you don't like my methods." You felt a flicker of the same irritation you had experienced at the Gala. This was going to be an interesting arrangement, to say the least.

A few weeks after the charity gala, you attended a book signing event for one of your favorite authors. The bookstore was packed with fans and media, all eager to catch a glimpse of the rising star. Natasha, as always, was nearby, scanning the crowd for potential threats.

As you chatted with fans and signed autographs, you felt a growing unease. One particular fan, a middle-aged man, lingered closer than seemed appropriate. His intense gaze and the way he approached you made you uncomfortable.

"Hello, can I take a photo with you?" the man asked, his voice overly eager. You forced a polite smile. "Of course," you said, posing for a quick photo. As you tried to move on to the next fan, the man grabbed your arm.

"Wait, you looked so good in the last movie... your style and all..." he said, tightening his grip. Your smile faded, and you tried to pull your arm back. "Please let go."

The man's grip only tightened, and he began reaching into his pocket. Before you could react, Natasha stepped in. She moved with lightning speed, prying the man's hand off your arm and positioning herself between you.

"Step back." Natasha ordered, her voice cold and commanding. The man looked startled but did not move. "I just wanted to give her something!"

Natasha remained unmoved. "I said step back. Now." The intensity in Natasha's eyes and the firmness of her voice finally got through to the man. He stepped back and disappeared into the crowd. Your heart was racing, but you felt a wave of gratitude toward Natasha. "Thank you.." you said, your voice shaking. Natasha nodded, her eyes still scanning the crowd. "Time to go."

At home, you couldn't shake off the day's events. You sat on the couch, replaying the encounter in your mind. Natasha stood nearby, her stance as rigid as ever. "Are you okay?" Natasha asked, her voice softer than usual You nodded. "Yes, just... a bit shaken." Natasha sat across from you, her expression unreadable. "You handled it well. But you need to be more aware of your surroundings. Fans can be unpredictable." You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. "I know. I just didn't expect that."

"That's why I'm here," Natasha said, her tone firm but not unkind. "To expect the unexpected and keep you safe." You looked at Natasha, seeing her in a new light. Despite the rocky start, you realized how much you had come to rely on Natasha's presence. "I appreciate it.“

Natasha gave a crooked smile, a rare expression on her otherwise stoic face. "Just doing my job, princess." You rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a small smile. "You're impossible, you know that?" Natasha's smile widened. "And you're stubborn. I think we make a good team."

In the following weeks, your relationship developed further. There were still plenty of tensions and your share of arguments, but a mutual respect began to grow. Natasha's relentless professionalism and your determination to live your life on your own terms created a dynamic that was both challenging and oddly comforting.

One evening, as you were preparing for another public appearance and saw the crowds you had to move through, you stood closer to Natasha, her presence calming you. Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips forming a teasing smile. "Careful, princess, it almost looks like you actually like me." You laughed and shook your head. "Don't push it, Romanoff. But, since you're here..." Natasha's smile softened a bit. "Anytime."

Despite the nicknames and teasing, there was an unspoken understanding between you both and you couldn't deny Natasha's skills and dedication. Natasha, for all her toughness, began to see the determination and drive behind your fame and youth that had brought you to this point. Slowly, you began to understand each other and formed an uneasy alliance.

Next up was another film premiere, where you were the guest of honor. The tension between you was palpable again, fueled by your contrasting personalities and constant proximity.

While you were getting ready, you felt Natasha's eyes on you, checking every detail. "You know, you don't have to watch me like a hawk." you said, your tone sharper than intended. Natasha leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "It's my job to watch you."

"I can take care of myself." you snapped, turning fully to face her. Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Really? Because from where I stand, you've been pretty naive about the dangers around you."

You felt stung by the implication. "Naive? Just because I'm younger doesn't mean I'm clueless. I've worked hard to get here, and I don't need you undermining me." Natasha pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer. "And I don't need you questioning my every move. You hired me to protect you, and that's what I'm doing. If you don't like my methods, find someone else."

You glared at her, frustration boiling within you. "Maybe I will! I can't stand you treating me like a burden." Natasha's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with anger. "You think I enjoy this? Looking after a spoiled little girl who doesn't appreciate what I do?"

The words hurt more than you cared to admit, and tears sprang to your eyes. "I'm definitely not spoiled! You don't know anything about me! And you know what? You are i-impossible, Natasha! I've had enough of your condescending attitude."

Natasha took a deep breath, clearly trying to rein in her temper. "Fine. Maybe I'm impossible. But at least I'm doing my job. You want to fire me? Go ahead. But don't come to me when everything falls apart."

You refused to let your tears fall. But Natasha saw them. "You're so arrogant... Do you even care about anything other than your job?" For a moment, Natasha's eyes softened, and you thought you saw a hint of regret, but it was gone in an instant. "I care about keeping you alive, even if you don't see it."

You turned away, struggling to compose yourself. "Just leave me alone for a moment." Natasha gave a curt nod and walked out, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You felt a mix of anger and guilt, knowing that despite everything, Natasha was right. The world you lived in was dangerous, and you needed someone like her to protect you.

Later that evening, you stood on the balcony of your hotel room, staring at the city lights. The day's events played over in your mind, and you felt a pang of guilt for the harsh words you'd thrown at Natasha. You heard the door open and turned to see Natasha, her expression unreadable. "Can I join you?" Natasha asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. You nodded, and Natasha stepped onto the balcony, leaning against the railing next to you.

"I'm sorry," you said after a moment of silence. "For what I said earlier. I didn't mean it." Natasha glanced at you, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have called you naive... and a little girl." You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "It's just... this whole situation is new to me, okay? I'm not used to someone constantly having to watch over me."

"I know," Natasha said quietly. "And I'm not used to working with someone so... spirited as you. But I'm here to protect you, Y/N. Whether you like it or not." You couldn't help but laugh. "Spirited, huh? That's one way to put it." Natasha's smile widened. "You're tough, I'll give you that. But you need to trust me."

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I trust you. Even if you drive me crazy sometimes." Natasha chuckled. "The feeling is mutual, princess." You rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a smile. "Thank you, Natasha."

"Anytime," Natasha replied, her tone sincere. She looked at you, and before you could think too much about it, you turned and impulsively kissed Natasha on the lips. Natasha stiffened for a moment, then returned the kiss, her lips moving confidently against yours.

Your heart raced as you kissed Natasha, a surprising warmth flooding through you. As you pulled back slightly, you felt something firm press against your hip. Your eyes widened in surprise as you realized what it was. Natasha smirked, clearly noticing your reaction.

"Surprised?" Natasha asked, her voice deep and teasing. You nodded, still a bit stunned. "A little. I didn't see that coming.“ Natasha's smirk widened, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Well, I'm full of surprises."

You felt a blush creep over your cheeks, but you couldn't help but joke to cover your own nervousness. "Didn't know bodyguards got excited so easily." Natasha's eyes darkened with something more than just amusement. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Only when it's worth it."

Your breath caught as Natasha's hand lightly traced over your back, sending shivers down your spine. Natasha's presence was overwhelming, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. Natasha leaned over you slightly, her lips brushing your ear. "You're playing a dangerous game, princess," she murmured, her voice husky with desire.

Your cheeks burned, and you felt a wave of excitement that both thrilled and embarrassed you. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Natasha straightened up, an amused glint in her eyes as she stepped back. "Get some rest," Natasha said, her voice returning to its usual calm tone. "You have a big day tomorrow."

With that, Natasha turned and walked back into the hotel room, leaving you standing on the balcony, your mind racing and your body buzzing with emotions. As you stood there, the cool night air brushing your skin, you knew that things between you and Natasha would never be the same again. When you lay down that night, replaying the memory of the kiss and Natasha's teasing words, you couldn't help but smile, your heart racing with excitement and curiosity about what the future would bring.

Your schedule had become a whirlwind of appearances, interviews, and fan interactions as you toured to promote your latest film. Everywhere you went, enthusiastic fans awaited you, clamoring for autographs and selfies. Natasha was always close by.

One afternoon, you were at a signing event in a busy city. The line of fans stretched around the block, and you took time with each person, chatting and taking photos. However, Natasha noticed a pattern: you were livelier and smiled brighter when interacting with your female fans. It was something you did unconsciously, but Natasha picked up on it.

During a break, Natasha couldn't resist commenting. "You really come alive around the ladies, don't you, princess?" she said, her tone teasing but with a hint of something else. You raised an eyebrow, noting the subtle undertone in Natasha's voice. "What's that supposed to mean?" Natasha shrugged, a smirking smile on her lips. "Just an observation. You seem to enjoy their company more."

You felt a spark of defiance. Remembering the balcony scene and Natasha's teasing nature, you decided to push it further. If Natasha wanted to tease you, you'd give her a taste of her own medicine. "Maybe I do," you said, your tone playful. "Is that a problem?" Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, but she maintained her cool demeanor. "Not at all. Just interesting to watch."

You decided to take it up a notch. For the rest of the event, you made an extra effort to be even more attentive with your female fans. You laughed louder, leaned in closer for photos, and gave their conversations more attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Natasha watching, her jaw tensing slightly.

You found it immensely amusing. You liked seeing the usually unflappable Natasha show a bit of emotion, especially jealousy. It gave you a sense of power in your otherwise tense dynamic.

Later that evening, you returned to the hotel. You were in high spirits, still buoyed by the interactions of the day and the success of your plan to annoy Natasha. As you entered the hotel suite, Natasha finally spoke. "You really enjoyed today, didn't you?“ You turned to her, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I did. It was a lot of fun. Especially to see how you lose your composure"

Natasha's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and something deeper. "My composure? I have not lost my composure." You stepped closer, lowering your voice to a teasing whisper. "Sure looked like it to me." Natasha's gaze hardened, but there was no denying the hint of jealousy there. "Careful, Y/N."

You felt a thrill at the challenge in Natasha's voice. "Nope." Natasha stepped closer, the tension between you crackling like electricity. "You're testing my patience." You smiled, enjoying the power you held in this moment. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire, and she stepped closer, her body only inches from yours. "Do you really want to know?" Your heart pounded in your chest, the air between you thick with tension. "Maybe I do.“ Natasha leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Don't forget who you're playing with, princess. I don't give in easily."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you refused to back down. "Good. Neither do I." Natasha's smile widened, and for a moment, you thought she would kiss you again. But when Natasha turned and walked away, you couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and excitement. You had pushed Natasha's buttons and gotten a reaction, but you knew that this game you were playing was far from over.

In the following days, you continued to tease Natasha, finding new ways to provoke her jealousy. You found it incredibly amusing to see the normally composed bodyguard show signs of possessiveness. And despite the tension, there was an undeniable thrill in your interactions. Natasha seemed to enjoy the challenge as well. She never backed down and always met your provocations with her own brand of teasing and intensity. Your relationship was a constant back-and-forth, filled with playful banter and underlying desire.

The evening of the final premiere had arrived, and you were in your hotel suite, getting ready for the event. Your hair and makeup team were putting the finishing touches on your look, ensuring every detail was perfect. You wore a stunning dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, the shimmering fabric catching the light beautifully. You looked every bit the star you were, ready to captivate the crowd and cameras.

As you admired your reflection in the mirror, the door to your suite opened. Natasha walked in, looking as composed and confident as ever. She wore her usual black ensemble but had her jacket casually slung over her shoulder, and her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of her toned chest. The sight made your heart skip a beat, and you hated yourself for finding Natasha so attractive.

Natasha's eyes scanned over you appreciatively, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, don't you look like a million dollars tonight." You rolled your eyes and tried to hide your blush. "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself."

Natasha chuckled and stepped closer. "You really know how to turn heads, princess. Try not to cause too many heart attacks out there." You felt a mix of irritation and something warmer, more exciting. "I'll do my best." you said, your tone half teasing, half serious. Natasha's smile widened. "Remember, I'm here to protect you. Can't have you distracting me too much." You laughed and shook your head. "I'll try not to be too much of a distraction."

Natasha's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she nodded. "Good. Ready to go?" You took a deep breath and cast one last look in the mirror. "Ready."

The red carpet was a flurry of activity, with flashing cameras and cheering fans. You moved gracefully through the crowd, stopping for interviews and photos. Natasha was always nearby, her eyes scanning the surroundings for potential threats. Despite the busy environment, your mind was elsewhere. You had been thinking about the ongoing game with Natasha, the back-and-forth of your interactions, and the growing tension between you. Tonight, you decided, you would take it a step further.

As you entered the theater for the premiere, you could feel the electricity in the air. You excused yourself from the group of people you were with and moved to a quieter part of the lobby. Natasha followed you, her vigilant eyes missing nothing. "Everything okay?" Natasha asked, her tone professional but with a hint of curiosity. You turned to her, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, I just needed a moment. It's so hectic out there."

Natasha nodded, her stance relaxed but alert. "You should have thought of that before." You stepped closer, your hand lightly brushing Natasha's arm. "You weren't so grumpy earlier. What's with the attitude now?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but cautious. "I'm not grumpy. I'm just doing my job." You smiled, your hand sliding down to Natasha's waist, your fingers tracing the edge of her pants. “Loosen up a little, it’s fine to be a risky once in a while, Natasha.”

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire as she realized your intentions. "You're giving me a handjob at your premiere. We're thinking of two different versions of risk." You leaned in, your breath warm against Natasha's ear. "Maybe I like my version better." Your hand moved bolder, stroking over the bulge in Natasha's pants. Natasha gasped, but quickly placed her hand over yours to stop your movements. Her grip was firm, and a smirking smile played on her lips as she leaned closer, her voice a soft, seductive whisper.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Natasha murmured, her breath hot against your ear. "If you keep this up, I'll have you on your knees, begging for more. I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a week." Your heart raced at Natasha's words, a shiver running down your spine. You felt a mix of excitement and nervousness, your breath hitching.

Natasha stepped back slightly, her eyes meeting yours. "You have no idea what you're getting into, princess." You tried to regain your composure. "Then show me." Natasha's smile turned dangerous and seductive. "Not here. Not now."

Your heart raced, your mind buzzing with anticipation. You stepped back slightly, your eyes meeting Natasha's. "When then?" Natasha's smile was dangerous and seductive. "You'll see." You felt a thrill run through you. You had challenged Natasha, and now you were ready for whatever came next. As you returned to the premiere, the tension between you was palpable, an unspoken promise of things to come.

The premiere went smoothly, but your and Natasha's thoughts were elsewhere. The silent promise you had exchanged hung between you, intensifying every glance, every touch. As the event came to an end, you felt both excited and nervous about what would happen next. Natasha's presence, as always, was a calming force, but now it was charged with a new kind of tension.

As you finally returned to the hotel, you couldn't resist teasing Natasha one last time. "So, what's next, bodyguard? Do you still think I'm playing a dangerous game?" Natasha's eyes were dark with promise as she stepped closer. "Oh, princess, the game has only just begun." You felt a shiver of excitement. "Good. I wouldn't want it any other way."

You turned to head to your room, thinking you had the upper hand. But before you could take more than a few steps, Natasha grabbed your arm and effortlessly swung you over her shoulder. You gasped in surprise as Natasha carried you into the bedroom.

"Natasha! W-What are you doing!?" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of shock and excitement. Natasha didn't answer immediately. Instead, she gave you a quick, firm smack on your butt, making you gasp. "You wanted to play games, princess. Now it's my turn." Your heart raced as Natasha carried you into the bedroom and tossed you onto the bed. Natasha stood at the foot of the bed, removing her jacket and unbuttoning her blouse with deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving yours.

"You've been teasing me all night," Natasha said, her voice deep and commanding. "Now it's time to show you what happens when you play with fire." You felt a wave of heat wash over you as you watched Natasha undress. You bit your lip, your breath catching in anticipation.

Natasha climbed onto the bed, her movements predatory and deliberate. She leaned over you, her hands pinning your wrists above your head as she kissed you deeply and possessively. You responded eagerly, your body arching into Natasha's. She broke the kiss, her lips brushing your ear. "You belong to me tonight, princess. And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

Your faces were only inches apart, and you could feel Natasha's breath on your skin. The tension between you crackled like electricity, a mix of anger and desire. Your teasing had always been a game to provoke Natasha, but now, faced with the intensity of Natasha's gaze, you realized how far you had pushed her.

"You drive me crazy, Y/N," Natasha whispered, her voice rough. "Now it's my turn." Your heart skipped a beat, your body trembling with anticipation. "Then don't hold back, please.." you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. Natasha's smile widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Oh, I don't plan to."

Natasha's lips crashed onto yours, the kiss fierce and demanding. You responded eagerly, your body arching into Natasha's, your skin tingling with the intensity of the moment. Natasha's hands moved purposefully, one sliding down your side, her fingertips tracing the hem of your dress before slipping underneath.

You gasped into the kiss as Natasha's fingers drew patterns on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. You had never experienced such a touch, so firm, so assured. It was as if Natasha knew exactly how to unravel you. "Natasha.." you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. "Please..." Natasha pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her gaze fierce and intense. "Oh, I like that. Please what?" she demanded, her tone commanding.

"Please... more.." you begged, your body aching for Natasha's touch. A satisfied smile spread across Natasha’s face as she obliged, her fingers finding their way to your most sensitive spots, drawing moans and gasps from you that filled the room. Your world narrowed to the sensation of Natasha's touch, your body responding with an intensity you had never known.

Natasha's hands moved expertly, teasing and pleasing you until you trembled with desire. Just as you thought you couldn't take anymore, Natasha pulled back slightly, her gaze dark and full of promise. "You're not ready for what's coming next," Natasha said, her voice deep and husky. She stood up, her movements intentionally slow, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

You watched with wide eyes as Natasha unbuckled her belt, your gaze following her every move. As Natasha's pants fell to the floor, you caught your breath. There, proud and ready, was Natasha's member. Natasha reached into her pocket and pulled out a condom, rolling it on with practiced ease.

"You were prepared," you teased, your voice breathless. "Did you know the night would end like this?" Natasha gave you a sly smile. "I had a feeling. And by the end of the night, you won't have that attitude anymore."

Your body responded to Natasha's words, a mix of excitement and anticipation coursing through you. Natasha climbed back onto the bed, positioning herself between your legs. She leaned in to capture your lips in another searing kiss, her hands roaming over your body, stoking the flames of desire even higher.

As Natasha slowly entered you, you gasped at the sensation, your body arching into hers. The feeling was unlike anything you had ever experienced, a perfect blend of pleasure and connection. Natasha moved with a careful rhythm, watching your reactions to ensure every movement brought you joy. "Do you like that?" Natasha whispered, her voice deep and rough. "Do you like feeling me inside you?"

"Y-Yes, oh God, yes.." you moaned, your hands clutching at Natasha's back, your nails digging into her skin as waves of pleasure washed over you. "Good," Natasha growled, increasing her pace slightly. "Because I'm not stopping until you've learned your lesson." Your breath grew heavy, your moans louder with each thrust. Natasha's lips found your neck, kissing you, making you tremble. Natasha's hand slipped between you, her fingers brushing over your clit in teasing, light touches.

"Natasha!" you gasped, your body jolting at the sudden rush of pleasure. "Please, stop..."

"Just a taste of your own medicine," Natasha murmured, her voice a husky whisper against your skin. She kept her slow, torturous rhythm, her fingers lightly dancing over your sensitive spot, driving you wild with desire. Your frustration mingled with your arousal, the teasing making you desperate. "Please, Natasha... I need more.." you begged, your voice trembling.

Natasha's smile deepened, savoring your pleading. "You need to learn that actions have consequences," she said, her pace increasing, each thrust deeper and harder. "Is this what you wanted, Y/N? To be dominated, made to beg?"

"Yes, yes!" you whimpered, your body arching, seeking more. "Please, Natasha, I need you..“ Seeing your desperation, Natasha finally relented. She increased her pace, her thrusts becoming rougher, harder. Her fingers pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with her movements. "You feel so good," Natasha groaned, her own arousal evident in her voice. "So tight around me. You love being fucked like this, don't you?"

„God.." you cried, your body shaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

"I'm not," Natasha promised, her voice rough with desire. She began slowly, her thrusts gentle and deliberate, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. Each movement was measured, designed to build the pleasure slowly. Her fingers pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with her movements. "You feel so good," Natasha groaned, her own arousal evident in her voice. "So tight around me. I told you how it would end."

"Oh God!" you cried, your body shaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop..“ Natasha's breath came heavy, her movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to take everything I give you," she growled. "And you're going to love it." Natasha's eyes burned with a mix of desire and something deeper. "Turn around," she commanded, her voice rough. "I want to take you from behind."

You complied, your body trembling with anticipation. Natasha positioned herself behind you, her hands gripping your hips firmly. With one swift motion, Natasha entered you again, the new angle sending a fresh wave of pleasure through your body. "God, you feel so good," Natasha groaned, her pace rough and relentless. "Do you like this, Y/N? Do you like being fucked like this?"

"Yes, Natasha, y-yees.." you cried, your body pushing back against each thrust. "Harder, please, harder..“ Natasha's grunts filled the room, her movements becoming more powerful, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. "Fuck, what would your fans say if they saw you like this?" she growled.

Your world was a whirl of sensations, your body burning with pleasure. "Please, please, please!" you gasped, your voice breaking with need. "Please, I'm so close.."

Natasha's hands slid to your shoulders, pulling you back with each thrust, her pace unrelenting. "I want to see your face when you come," Natasha demanded, her voice rough. You turned, your eyes meeting Natasha's intense gaze. Natasha didn't break the connection, her thrusts deep and powerful, her eyes locked on yours. "You're so beautiful," Natasha murmured, her voice filled with raw emotion. "Come for me, Y/N. I want to see you come."

Your body obeyed, the intensity of Natasha's gaze and the power of her movements driving you over the edge. You called out Natasha's name, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm, your eyes never leaving Natasha's. She followed you, her own orgasm hitting her hard, her body tensing with the release. She held you close, your bodies entwined, the intensity of your connection overwhelming.

When it was over, Natasha collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. You looked up at Natasha, your eyes shining with gratitude and something deeper. "That was... incredible," you whispered, your voice shaking. Natasha smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You're incredible," she replied softly, her touch now tender, filled with affection.

You snuggled into Natasha's embrace, feeling safe. You had challenged Natasha, teased her, but now you understood the depth of it and the passion that lay beneath your banter. It was a night you would indeed never forget.

The next morning, the sunlight filtered gently through the curtains of your hotel room, casting a warm glow across the bed. You stirred slowly, a pleasant ache in your muscles reminding you of the intense connection you had shared with Natasha the previous night. A contented smile spread across your face as you replayed the events in your mind. The way Natasha had made you feel cherished and desired was unlike anything you had experienced before.

As you stretched lazily, you noticed Natasha already up and moving around the room, her movements efficient and purposeful as she dressed in her black uniform. Still feeling the warmth of the night, you sat up and instinctively pulled the blanket around you.

Natasha caught sight of your movement and smirked. "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've already seen everything." You felt a blush rise to your cheeks but managed a small smile. "Force of habit, I guess." Natasha chuckled softly and walked over to the bed, sitting down beside you. She reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "How are you feeling?"

You leaned into her touch, savoring the intimacy. "Good. Better than good, actually." Natasha's smile softened, and she pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Good. We've got a busy day ahead. Remember, it's the final interview for the film today." You nodded, the reality of the day settling in. "Right. The last interview." Natasha's eyes searched yours, a hint of concern flickering in them. "Are you ready for it?"

You sighed, feeling a pang of anxiety. "I think so. Just... nervous, I guess." Natasha squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You'll do great. And I'll be right there with you."

As Natasha continued getting ready, you reached for your phone on the nightstand. Unlocking it, you saw a barrage of notifications. Among the messages was one from a close friend, marked urgent. Curiosity piqued, you opened the message thread.

The message read: "Y/N, have you seen these articles? Be careful with Natasha Romanoff. She's got a reputation." Attached were several links to articles and gossip columns detailing Natasha's past relationships, her numerous one-night stands, and her professional life as a bodyguard. The headlines screamed warnings about her dangerous allure and the trail of broken hearts she had left behind.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the articles, each one chipping away at the happiness you had felt just moments before. The friend’s message continued: "I just don't want to see you get hurt. She might be good at her job, but she's also known for not sticking around."

Natasha's teasing smile from this morning flashed in your mind: "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess. I've already seen everything." What if you were just another conquest for her? The memory of her passionate words from last night seemed suddenly tainted "You belong to me tonight, princess. And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

Natasha noticed the shift in your expression and the way you had gone quiet, your eyes glued to your phone. "Y/N, is everything okay?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. You quickly locked your phone and forced a smile. "Yeah, just... some messages." But the seed of doubt had been planted. Despite your efforts to focus, the words from the articles lingered in your mind. Was last night just another notch on Natasha's belt?

As you got ready, Natasha left you alone for a moment to gather your thoughts. The anxiety gnawed at you, turning the warmth you had felt into a cold pit in your stomach.

The day passed in a blur of preparations and travel to the interview location. Your mind kept drifting back to the articles, the warnings, the doubt. By the time you arrived at the studio, the unease had settled deep within you.

When the time for the interview finally arrived, you found yourself sitting in a brightly lit studio, facing a well-known interviewer. The cameras rolled, and the interview began. You tried to concentrate, but your mind kept wandering, haunted by the headlines and Natasha's reputation. "So, Y/N, this film has been a huge success. How has the journey been for you?" You forced a smile, trying to gather your thoughts. "It's been incredible. The cast and crew were amazing, and I learned so much."

But even as you spoke, you couldn't shake the memory of Natasha's voice from last night"Do you like feeling me inside you?"

"Can you share any particularly memorable moments from the set?" You hesitated, your mind momentarily blank. "Uh, there were so many great moments. I think... the camaraderie we shared off-camera was really special."

Natasha's teasing smile from this morning flashed in your mind "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess. I've already seen everything."

"What are your plans after this film? Any new projects in the pipeline?" You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. "I'm exploring a few options, but nothing's set in stone yet."

Natasha's concern earlier replayed in your mind "Are you ready for it?" The interview continued, but your responses grew increasingly mechanical. Natasha, standing just off-camera, noticed the shift in your demeanor. Her brow furrowed with concern as she watched you, sensing something was wrong. She began to worry that she had overstepped last night, that perhaps she had pushed you too far.

When the interview finally concluded, you left the studio feeling drained and unsettled. Natasha was by your side immediately, her eyes filled with worry. "Y/N, what's wrong?" Natasha asked, her voice gentle yet urgent. "Did something happen during the interview?"

You shook your head, avoiding her gaze. "No, it's not that. I just... need some space right now." Natasha's heart clenched at your words. She followed you silently back to the hotel, the worry gnawing at her. Had she misread the signals? Had she taken things too far last night? The thought of having hurt you in any way made her feel sick.

Back in the hotel room, you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. Natasha hovered nearby, her concern evident "Y/N, please talk to me," Natasha said softly. "I can't help if I don't know what's wrong." You took a deep breath, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm.. scared, Natasha..“

Natasha's heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice. She stepped closer, her hand gently cupping your cheek. "Scared of what? Talk to me, please." You finally met her gaze, the tears spilling over. "I'm scared that last night... that it was just a one-time thing for you. That you only wanted me for my body."

Natasha's eyes widened in shock, and she immediately knelt in front of you, taking your hands in hers. "W-What?“ You reluctantly lifted your gaze to hers, seeing the sincerity and depth of her feelings reflected in her eyes. "Last night was not just a one-time thing for me," Natasha said firmly. "I didn't just want you for your body. You mean so much more to me than that."

You searched her eyes, your voice trembling. "But what if... what if this changes things between us? What if it's just a fling?" Natasha shook her head, her grip on your hands gentle but steady. "It won't be. Because I care about you, Y/N. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time. Last night meant everything to me, and I don't want it to end there." Tears flowed freely now, and Natasha wiped them away with her thumbs, her gaze never leaving yours.

"But what about all these articles and rumors about you?" you asked, the fear and doubt still lingering in your voice. "They say you've had so many one-night stands and relationships that didn't last. How do I know I'm not just another one?" Natasha sighed deeply, her expression turning serious. "Do you remember the actress you met at the restroom at the Gala?" You nodded, recalling the striking woman who had seemed so authoritative.

"Her name is Jessica," Natasha continued. "We were in a relationship a few month ago. It was toxic and manipulative. When I finally managed to leave her, she was furious. She threatened to ruin my reputation if I ever left her." Natasha pulled out her phone and showed you a message thread. "Here, look at this." She scrolled to a particular message and handed you the phone. The message read:

"If you leave, I will destroy your life, your reputation, everything, Natasha. No one will ever trust you again."

You felt a chill run down your spine as you read the words. Natasha's voice was steady but filled with pain. "She's the one who started those rumors and spread the articles. I'm already taking legal action against her, but these things take time."

You looked up at Natasha, seeing the sincerity and anguish in her eyes. "I had no idea..." Natasha cupped your face gently. "I would never use you, Y/N. What we have is real, and I want to protect it. Protect you. Please believe me."

You searched her eyes, feeling the sincerity in her words. "But how can I be sure?" Natasha's grip on your hands tightened, her gaze unwavering. "Because I'm standing here, telling you this. I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I want to be with you, not just for a night, but for as long as you'll have me."

You felt a flood of relief and emotion wash over you. "I want that too, Natasha. I just... I needed to know." Natasha pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." You clung to her, feeling the warmth and strength of her presence. The fear and doubt that had plagued you melted away in the face of Natasha's unwavering support.

As the day continued, you felt a renewed sense of connection and understanding with Natasha. The bond between you had deepened, forged through honesty and vulnerability. With the whirlwind of your film promotion tour finally over, you felt a mix of relief and excitement as you arrived back at your home. For the first time in months, you had some well-deserved time off. Natasha, your steadfast bodyguard, was right by your side as you walked through the front door of your cozy house.

"Home sweet home.." you sighed, dropping your bags and stretching your arms. The familiar surroundings brought a sense of peace that you had missed during your hectic schedule.

Natasha smiled, leaning against the doorway. "It's nice to see you relax." You turned to her, a question lingering in your mind. "So, what happens now? Do you move on to another client with a tour or something?" Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Actually, I took some time off too."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You took time off to stay here?" Natasha nodded, stepping closer. "Yes, I wanted to spend more time with you. I meant what I said a few days ago, Y/N."

A wave of warmth and happiness washed over you. "You really do care," you whispered, feeling your heart swell with affection. Natasha cupped your face gently, her eyes soft and sincere. "I care a lot, and I want to make the most of this time we have together."

The next few days were blissful. You and Natasha spent time just enjoying each other's company, something you hadn't been able to do during the tour. The bond between you grew stronger, built on trust and genuine affection. One lazy afternoon, as you lounged on the couch together, you started discussing potential vacation destinations. "We should go somewhere special," you suggested, scrolling through various travel websites on your laptop. "How about a trip to a secluded beach resort? Just the two of us."

Natasha leaned in, looking at the screen. "That sounds perfect." You found a beautiful resort that offered private bungalows by the ocean and various activities for couples. "This one looks amazing," you said excitedly. "Let me book it."

Before you could click the "book now" button, the doorbell rings, "Food is here!" You sprint over and meanwhile Natasha took the laptop and made the booking. When you come back with two pizza boxes, you pouted playfully. "Hey! I wanted to pay for it!“ Natasha chuckled, pulling you into her arms. "I know, but I wanted to do this for us." You gave her a mock glare. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Natasha silenced you with a gentle kiss, her lips soft and tender against yours. "Shush," she whispered against your lips. "Let me take care of you for once." You melted into her embrace, feeling the love and care she poured into every touch and kiss. "Okay," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. "I guess I can let you spoil me this time."

The anticipation of your upcoming trip added an extra layer of excitement to your days. You spent your time planning activities and daydreaming about the sun, sand, and sea. The more you got to know Natasha in this relaxed setting, the more you realized how deeply you felt for her. As the departure date for your vacation approached, you and Natasha packed your bags with a mix of excitement and eagerness. The thought of being in a beautiful, secluded place with her made your heart race.

Finally, the day arrived, and you both boarded the plane to your dream destination. The flight was smooth, filled with laughter and light conversations about the adventures you planned to have. Upon landing, you were greeted with warm ocean breezes and the sound of waves crashing on the shore.

Your bungalow was even more beautiful than the pictures, nestled right on the beach with a stunning view of the turquoise waters. As you stepped inside, you felt a sense of tranquility wash over you. "This is perfect," you sighed, looking out at the ocean from the large windows. Natasha wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. "It really is. I'm glad we're here together."

You turned in her arms, looking up at her with a smile. "Me too. Thank you for everything, Natasha." She leaned down and kissed you softly. "Anything for you, Princess." The days that followed were filled with pure bliss. You and Natasha spent your time exploring the beach, swimming in the crystal-clear waters, and enjoying romantic dinners under the stars. Each moment felt like a precious gift, strengthening the bond you shared.

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armxnh · 1 year ago

Text

i know we just met, but i love you

synopsis: love at first sight with the tokyo revengers men.

characters: manjiro 'mikey' sano, takashi mitsuya, chifuyu matsuno

genre: fluff

warnings: none (i think...?)

masterlist.

manjiro 'mikey' sano

"ken-chinnnn" the leader of the toman whined at his taller friend. draken rolled his eyes in response, "no mikey, drop it."

"come onnnn-" the said man pouted exaggeratedly, "what did i do wrong?"

"nothing." the delinquent replied taking his wallet out of the pocket of his jacket, "you just don't need to eat twenty-five taiyaki."

"sorry to bother you but there are a lot of people who are waiting take their orders so if you could-" daiki, as it was written on his name tag, tried to cut them off from behind the counter.

for the past ten minutes, the two delinquents were arguing about their order. draken wanted to buy mikey five taiyaki, while mikey wanted his friend to buy him twenty-five of them.

draken turned his head to the cashier, "yeah, so five taiyaki and-"

"twenty-five taiyaki." "damn you-"

"hurry up! unlike other people, some of us have important things to do!" a customer yelled from the back of the line.

manjiro snapped his head to the back of the line, narrowing his eyes at the older man who had just yelled at him. "see now you're making people angry, mikey. 'm not gonna spend ¥5,272 on snacks."

"i need to eat a lot if i want to be taller!"

"for the last time. you won't get taller! you are at your maximum height!"

"alright! i'm not going through this again." a soft voice cut both of them before they could start the same argument they had 2 minutes ago. "daiki, i'll pay for their order- just make his goddamn snacks, please."

when manjiro turned to look at the person who 'saved his life', he felt like he has just died and miraculously came back to life as he made eye contact with you.

you were... pretty.

his eyes were set on you, taking in every single detail he could as if he was scared to forget how you look the second he'll look away.

"thank you, but that's not necessary!" draken politely thanked you as you grabbed your fidelity card of the small shop.

"don't worry about it! after all, those fidelity points have to be used for something." you waved him off, looking back at daiki, "could you also add my regular oder with that, please daiki?"

"o-of course, (y/n)!" the young worker quickly tapped your oder in the computer, a red hue covering his cheeks when you smiled at him.

"mikey, what do you say?" draken looked at his friend, hinting him to thank you, but his words fell into deaf ears as mikey kept looking at you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky.

"mikey?" He nudged the said man's shoulder trying to snap him out of his thoughts, only to be ignored once more.

the tall blond dropped the smile as he turned to his friend hitting the side of his head, finally snapping him out of his thoughts, "mikey!"

"um? what?" mikey barely glanced at draken when he responded, his heartbeat increasing when you looked back at him with your receipt in hand.

"i said, what do you say to the girl who just bought you your snacks?" he replied, glancing between the two of you clearly wondering why his friend was acting weird all of the sudden.

"marry me."

ken ryuguji never whipped his head to look at his friend so fast in his life. What the hell did he just said?!

you felt your face warm up at his words, chuckling as you walk past him, placing your hand on his shoulder, "do you ask every girl who buys you snacks to marry you?"

manjiro felt like he was in heaven when you stood closer to him. how can someone be so pretty and be so nice and smell so good and be so pretty at the same time.

"what?" toman's leader came back down to earth when you handed him the box filled of taiyaki. "did i say that out loud?" manjiro mumbled, frowning to himself. before looking back at you, just to see you making your way outside. "hey- wait!"

he tossed the snacks at draken jogging to meet you outside of the shop. "w-wait!"

you turned to look at him, the soft summer breeze sweating through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open, "yes?"

"you're (y/n), right?" he asked remembering how the cashier called you when you were ordering, "i'm mikey..." he wanted to say something else but the words got caught in his throat when you smiled at him.

"nice to meet you, mikey" you replied before your eyes drifted behind him to the small group of guys that were looking at the two of you intensely, the 'ken-chin' guy from earlier standing with them. "i think your friends are waiting for you"

manjiro glanced back to see his best friends looking at them with knowing looks on their faces, "never mind them- this is- you are more important."

you looked away from him, his intense eye contact making your face feel warm, "you really know how to talk to girls you know?"

"thank you for earlier... the snacks and all..."

"that was 2 months worth of fidelity points- you better eat every single one of those taiyaki" you playfully warned the gang leader.

"don't worry about that..!" mikey replied knowing damn well that he will inhale those snacks. "can i walk you home? it's going to get dark soon- wouldn't want my wife to get attacked or something!"

wife?!

you suppress a smile at his words, "of course, wouldn't want it to get dark at 2 pm, and then get attacked by who knows what next to a bakery."

"exactly! let's go, wifey!"

takashi mitsuya

"what did you say you're brother's name was?" you asked the crying girl in front of you.

"...t- taka-shi" the small girl sobbed in your shoulder as you gently patted her head.

"alright and what's your name?" you gently asked as you scanned the area trying to find someone who looked like they had just lost their child.

"i- i- i'm mana"

"you have a really pretty name, you know?" you smiled fondly at the girl as you whipped the tears of her face with your thumbs.

"really?"

"heck yeah! it's a badass name!" you felt relief wash over you when you saw a smile spread across the kid's face, "i'm (y/n) and i'm gonna help you find your brother alright?"

"thank you..." she mumbled quietly.

"you're going to hop on my shoulders and tell me when you see your brother okay?" the girl looked up at you with stars in her eyes, you pulled mana on your shoulder, her small hands on your head.

you walked for a good 15 minutes before mana tapped your head with on hand while the other pointed toward an unknown man in the crowd of person, "they're there! that's draken!"

draken? wasn't her brother's name takashi? you wondered as you put mana to the ground your hand grabbing hers just in case she got lost again.

"mana!" a little girl's voice called out as you arrived next to the very tall guy with a dragon tattoo on his head. the small girl that looked very similar to mana hugged tightly the younger girl.

"mitsuya! ' found her" the tall guy called out for someone else behind him. the 'mitsuya' guy appeared from behind the 'draken' guy not long after he called out from him. the purple haired teen practically attacked his sister with a hug, sighing in relief.

"don't ever do that again, mana." he gently scaled his younger sister, "you could've gotten lost and we would've been really sad, al-?"

"it's fine! (y/n) helped me find you!" she pointed her finger at her. mitsuya ruffled his sister's hair, before straightening up to thank the person that help his mini-him, "thank you so mu..."

he felt like the world had stopped moving. like it was only the two of them in the middle of the festival. takashi mitsuya was in a trance. he was simply mesmerized by the sight of you.

"it's no problem, really! " you softly smiled at him, "your sister is a real angel-"

anything else you said after wasn't even registered but the delinquent in front of you. he was usually so good at this- talking to people was what he did best so... why couldn't he utter a single word for you.

his cheeks were red, his palm were sweaty, why was he anxious?- he was hanging on everything you did. even if he felt like he had forgotten how to speak, your voice felt like melody to his ears.

he snapped out of his trance when someone nudge his shoulder. mitsuya glanced at draken beside him, suddenly remembering that they weren't alone and that you were talking to him.

you looked at him with a puzzled look, "are you alright?

your question made him overthink about everything that happened in the last 2 minutes of your meeting. Did he look like a creep?

"i- i- great."

the hell was that takashi? he cursed himself.

darken cleared his throat, holding back his laugh. he brought his fist to his mouth faking coughs as he muttered a small, "real smooth, mitsuya".

you chuckled at his friend's comment, making mitsuya straighten up, you pulled out your hand for him to shake.

"let's start over, alright? i'm (y/n)... you're takashi right?"

draken stepped up clearly expecting his friend to be to lost in space to answer you, "he prefers mitsuya-"

"takashi's fine!" the said man interjected, as he quickly grabbed your hand to shake it, sending one of his pretty smile in your direction.

"i-"

"are you going to marry my brother?" he couldn't catch a break could he? luna asked you with big eyes.

you chuckled softly at her words, "how about this... i will give my number to your brother. then we'll go out to eat something to talk about marriage alright?"

"yes!" the girl tightly hugged your leg as you said that.

"does that sound like a plan to you, takashi?" yes!

mitsuya hurriedly started to look in his pocket for a pen, when draken pulled one out of his pocket with a piece of paper and handed it to the purple haired boy, "there you go, casanova"

takashi handed you the paper and the pen, before you wrote your name with your phone number on it.

"see y'a soon, taka! bye, mana don't get lost again alright?"

as soon as you were out of sight takashi turned to draken with a stern look, "not a word about this, alright?"

"you're crazy!" draken crackled putting his hand in his pocket, "i'm going to tell everyone!"

"draken!"

"as your wingman i feel like it's my responsibility-"

"no it is not!"

chifuyu matsuno

"hurry up, chifuyu!" takemichi yelled at his friend. they couldn't be late. not for that.

"how come you are slow as hell during a fight, yet you sprint your life on a sunday at 8 am?" the blond joked as he calmly walked behind takemichi with not a care in the world.

"come on! we're gonna be late!" he repeated hurriedly before stopping abruptly while looking around him.

"late to what?" chifuyu yawned, before looking at his friend, who stood there looking around, up and down as if his brain had finally snapped, "you alright?"

"alright stand here and don't move." takemichi moved the delinquent around so that he would stand in the middle of a park- an empty park.

"did you finally snapped or...?" he asked when the time traveler started to back away from him, "are you going to kill me? is this really how it's gonna end-"

"watch out!"

a voice yelled, but it was too late.

a ball directly hit his face, knocking chifuyu to the dirty ground, his eyes closing due to the shock.

it took him a couple of seconds before finally opening his eyes again, only to realize that he was in heaven. the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life held his head in her hands, her index and middle finger pressed against the front of his neck just below his jaw- making sure that his heart was still beating.

"oh- thank god! you're not dead!"

"are you an angel?" chifuyu mumbled placing his hand on top of yours- making sure you were real, "am i in heaven?"

you let a breathy chuckle at his words, "you're cute- but no you're not dead... i kicked a ball in your face- unintentionally of course!"

his eyes finally focused on you, remembering what had happened. he blinked a couple of time, his eyes scanning your face- a pretty girl's face... so close to his face with her hands on his face and his hands on her hand-

what?!

chifuyu's face became as red a tomato straitening his posture to apologize for touching you without your authorization, "i'm so sorry-"

his head came in contact with your head, making you pull back immediately from the blond. "ow! i told you i didn't do it on purpose!" you groan holding your head with your hands.

chifuyu gasped in horror at his own clumsiness as he placed a hand on the back of your head. hopping that the coldness of it would help you a little, "i'm sorry! i swear i didn't mean it! please hit me again so that we're even!"

...what? now why would he say that?

"what? what's wrong with you?! do you get turn on by getting hit or something?!"

chifuyu panically looked around to search takemichi so that he could help him. when he finally spotted him, hiding behind the swings, the time traveler was smiling proudly with his two thumbs up in the air.

his action making him recall a conversation the two of them had a couple of weeks earlier.

"so... am i married in the future?" chifuyu asked takemichi as he bit down the sandwich he made himself for lunch.

takemichi raised his brows at the question, "yeah-"

"really?!" the blond gasped, with heart in his eyes, "do i know her?! no wait- that'll ruin the surprise- is she pretty?! no wait- of course she's pretty you idiot!"

the time traveler chuckled at his friend's words, rubbing the back of his neck, "do you want me to tell you how you met?"

"no! it has to be a surprise!" chifuyu refused, "wait am i going to meet her soon? is that why you said that?! takemichi?! answer!"

"nah- like you said it has to be a surprise~"

"takemichi!"

"if it makes you feel better- you embarrassed yourself in front of her"

"how would that make me feel better?!"

that sneaky bastard.

"i'm sorry! i don't know how to talk to pretty girls..." chifuyu mumbled looking to the ground, but his face snapped back at you when he realize what he had just say, your eyes round at his words, "i- i mean not that don't know how to talk you! wait- not that you're not pretty! you are pretty- beautiful even! but that is not the point! i don't need you to hit me! just please don't think i hurt you on purpose- i don't hit pretty girls! no wait- i don't hit girls at all! but you being beautifully-pretty is just a plus you know! an-"

you smacked your hand on his mouth, stopping his rambling, the butterflies in your stomach flying way to much due to his words. "please stop-! you're too cute..."

takemichi titled his head at the scene in front of him, clearly not remembering that part of the story your older self told him in the future about how chifuyu and her had met-

but... mission failed successfully... i guess?

ⓒarmxnh

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu matsuno #takashi x reader #takashi mitsuya #manjiro x reader #mikey x reader #manjiro sano #armxnh writes ♡

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sonnenreich · 6 days ago

Text

Shock could not describe what Zeev felt at that moment. Stunned, paralysed and unable to utter a single word, he watched what was happening as if he were having an out-of-body experience in his own nightmare. Even as the first accusations had been spewed in their direction, Zeev had been struck by a feeling so intense that he had never felt in Isaiah's presence—so negative and harsh, it shook him to the core. Zeev had already suspected that his beloved was not in control of his senses, that he was rejecting himself, lost in grief, but now the picture expanded.

“And you are afraid you're gonna be alone again, oh, what a terrible fate it must be.”

By this point at the latest, Zeev knew that Isaiah had been cursed, and given the spectacle unfolding before them, it was not difficult for him to fathom what was involved. He didn't have time for anger, however, his gaze only going to the blood, as if Isaiah had been inspired by one of the many movies they liked to watch together in front of the fireplace.

His gaze was fixed on the dark underlined eyes, the otherwise beautiful bright blue only washed out and veiled. When he looked inside him, he was sure Isaiah was looking back, only hidden. He was still there. He would get him out. No matter what the cost.

The witcher didn't react to his words, didn't respond to the sneering comments and insults that were no doubt meant to hurt him and tarnish what he had built. But how could they? He was proud of everything he had achieved. He was proud of the life he led with the love of his life. He was worried about being alone again, but he knew he never would be. The only thing that really scared him was a life without Isaiah. And the only ones who threatened that were the witches.

Concerned, he looked at his family, Sarah and Richard, who were overwhelmed by the whole situation and couldn't even begin to explain what was going on.

“Hey, so, your son has been cursed by dark magic of witches who aim to hurt me and Isaiah, because of reasons I'm not quite sure yet. By the way, I'm a witch, too and your son knows, he had always known there's magic in the world and things beyond human comprehension, one reason why we even found each other. One reason why it was possible for me to be who I am.”

It wasn't hard to imagine the looks he would receive and the thought that they both must have lost their marbles. Perhaps they'd even turn to him and realise that he hadn't kept their son safe. That he had failed them all. He might have been able to fix all of this sooner before it could have escalated into this display of utter dark madness.

Staying level headed was hard, to keep the composure and self-consciousness that he held dear to himself in challenging situations. But Isaiah was a weak spot—and the witches knew. What they didn’t know was that this blonde man, who had changed his life for the better, also was his biggest strength. With that, the feeling in his limbs returned and he placed a gentle hand on Sarah's shoulder for a second, smiling reassuringly at her, the sadness sticking to his eyes. “Do you trust me?” he asked carefully, the question in her eyes moving along her worrisome features.

“Of course,” she answered without missing a beat.

“Thank you,” he smiled. “I'll need you both to trust me a bit more than usual and I need your help. He needs our help more than ever.”

“He needs an ambulance…” Richard said justly.

Zeev nodded. “He does, but… I know this sounds confusing and weird, I want him well more than anything, but an ambulance won't help him right now. Give me some time, please, and then I'll even get him to the hospital myself.” The witcher studied the broken down person who once had been full of life and energy, crushed down to a mere shadow figure himself. Cursed. His mortal body wasn't made to withstand this much pressure and it was obvious how it wore him down. He wouldn't have much time. “Two days, tops.”

Sarah, and he couldn't blame her, winced at the idea of waiting this much longer.

“Please,” Zeev begged, squeezing her hand he must have taken instinctively. “Please”

Sarah looked at her son, a pain in her eyes that was in line with his, as was the helplessness that Richard threw back at them with similar intensity. Isaiah's father had always been the quiet sort, reserved in the way he communicated his emotions, showing them in other ways; with joint building projects in the workshop, involvement in his ideas about renovations or the simple family shopping together. Acts of service. And Zeev needed those more than ever.

“Let us first take care of him and then… We’ll talk,” Sarah reluctantly gave in and all her son-in-law could do was nod.

Despite what had happened a few minutes ago, none of those present were shy about touching Isaiah and carefully moving him to the nearest armchair. He held himself like a wet sack and let himself be led around as if the destination mattered absolutely nothing to him. His gaze was glazed and unfocussed, introspective in a way Zeev could no longer bear. Of course he wanted Isaiah to return, but it was far more important to him that Isaiah could be who he was again. This stunning, intelligent person who looked at the world and its inhabitants with a childlike curiosity and could recognise something beautiful in everything, even when it threw bad things at him.

While Sarah swept the shards off the floor and Richard made up the bed, Zeev took care of the wound on his hand. He had carefully removed the shard of glass, cleaned the blood from his hand and applied an ointment whose greenish colour could only indicate a mixture of various herbs. His lips moved softly as he wrapped the bandage around his weak hand, which would simply fall onto his lap without his help.

“I'm so sorry, baby,” he whispered a little later, stroking the back of his hand and looking up at him from his kneeling position. With his other hand, he gently stroked his cheek, whose cheekbone nestled far too clearly against his palm. “You'll be alright, I promise. I won't let this happen to you any longer.” He stroked his head, rose and kissed his forehead and just sat beside him on the armrest of the brown armchair for quite a while. The bandage on his hand was rough against his palm. Blood that shouldn't have been spilt.

“I hope you can hear me, love. You’re doing so good, I’m so sorry this has befallen you. I’m sorry I hadn’t prevented this from happening, but I’ll fix it now. I will. I won’t rest till it is.” Carefully, because he didn't want to cause him any more unnecessary pain, he rested his head against his chest, stroked his hair and kissed his hairline. “You're so strong, Isaiah, you have no idea how strong you are, even if it doesn't feel like it right now, but I need you to keep being strong. Can you do this for me? Just a little bit longer, just a little bit more time. Everything will be well soon.” Perhaps he was lying to himself, perhaps these words were just as important for him to hear as it was for Isaiah to know. And when he felt the shallow, if faint, pressure of his fingers around the witcher’s hand, Zeev knew he was right. Zeev was unspeakably proud of him, yet it broke his heart into a thousand pieces that he had to endure it regardless.

Together, they guided Isaiah back to bed, trying to relieve his body as best they could. Zeev told Richard to stay with him, if that was okay, and smiled gratefully when he accepted the suggestion without hesitation.

In the kitchen, the witcher met Sarah again, who was sitting restlessly at the table, kneading her hands until they turned red. Zeev realised that she must have cut herself on the glass and moved to the medicine cabinet without comment, took out a pack of band aids—the ones with little planets and stars on them—and sat down next to her. He gently took her hand in his, squeezed it lightly and wrapped a band aid around her finger.

“What is happening to my baby boy?” she whispered, her voice so weak and fragile it brought tears to the corners of Zeev's eyes. He held her hand in his.

“I will take care of this,” he promised her, unable to give her a real answer to her legitimate question. “And I will need both of your help. Do you think you can do that? Isaiah needs us more than anything right now.”

She nodded weakly. “What can I do?”

“First and foremost, I need you to take care of each other, too. Richard needs you and you need him, please don’t abandon your own needs in favour of Isaiah. Which is an impossible task, I know… But there is no use if you neglect yourself. I need you both the strongest you’ve ever been. As much as it hurts to say, but I won’t be around much the next two days and I’m sorry for putting all of this onto you, I’ll make up for it as soon as I can. In the meantime, please make sure he eats, that he moves, even if just the littlest, that he gets out of the room and no matter what, make sure he doesn’t hurt himself like he did just now. Keep him safe when I can't.” He kissed her hand, followed the look in her glassy eyes and reached out for her, wiping the tears from her cheeks without realising how his own were falling. “Richard will keep an eye on him, but make sure he gets some rest, too. The bedroom is made for you and always a place you can rest, but it's okay if you stay with Isaiah, too. Don't be a stranger around this house, this home belongs to you, too.”

He tentatively released his hand and rose from the chair, reached for the stack of papers and paused for a moment. They used the sticky notes for their shopping, especially Isaiah, so that he wouldn't forget what he was supposed to get. His last entry was ‘Cornflakes?’ with a forbiddingly cute smiley face and a multitude of little stars, suns and daisies taking up most of the space on the paper. His heart contracted painfully.

Isaiah would get so many cornflakes, strawberry and lava cakes, Snickers, soft drinks and greasy food that a stomach ache would be his only concern. Zeev wrote down a colourful mix of necessities, including a variety of vegetables and herbs that they no longer had in the house. He slid the list to her. “Can you get some groceries? Get yourself and Richard whatever you want as well, don’t be stingy, it’s alright.”

“Where will you be?”

“I’ll get some more help and a few insights from others. I most likely will be home late, but never refrain from calling me, writing to me, whatever, I’ll be here in a second if anything happens with him. Actually, now that I think about it, tell me whatever happens, even if it seems insignificant.”

She nodded once more, remaining quite for another intake of breath. “Why did he say those things? He… He’s a kind and soft and loving…”

“I know,” was all he managed to answer, the truth too confusing to tell. “He still is, mom.” He stepped over to her, the surprise of the term on his part giving her the faintest hint of a smile. “He's not feeling himself right now, but he will be again. I will make sure of it.” He didn't know how many times he had already said it, he had long since stopped counting. But the more he said it, the more he hoped it was true.

“What by the crooked surface of the pale moon is this shit?” Amber had exclaimed, shaking her head full of red locks, framing her in the dim light of the candles throning on the round dark table. Her home smelled like warm soil, the greenest of woods and a little bit of Henna die. Her hands were covered in brown swirls and flower patterns, something Zeev focused on as he watched her reaction towards the photo he had made of the sigil on the back of Isaiah’s currently most prized possession. Helena leaned forward, using her pointer and thumb to expand the symbol.

“I know I’ll be pointing out the obvious, but holy shit, this is worrisome.” The black haired woman reached over towards Zeev, brushing his arm affectionately, her expression filled with the utmost compassion and something akin to anxiety.

“How is he holding up?” Amber wondered, her green eyes still fixated on the picture, tilting her head just the slightest as if being able to see beyond the surface.

“Not at all,” Zeev sighed, shoulders hunched forward, hands resting on the side of his face, keeping him somewhat upright while his spine was giving up under his body weight, too tired to work, but he couldn’t grant himself any sleep nor rest. “I should have known there is more to it sooner. How could I have been so blind?”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Z” Helena tried, still rubbing his arm, which was comforting to some extent, but not enough to reach his mind. “You didn’t expect this to happen and in the end we’re human, too. We don’t expect being cursed out of a sudden, you tried to find logical reasons, human reasons. All that matters is that you know now and we can work with that.”

“I don’t have much time, I feel like I’m losing him.” Despite not wanting to, he broke into another sniffle. A waste of time. “I can’t lose him. Not like this, not ever.”

“You won’t. We’ll help as best as we can. Do you have an idea already what this means?”

“I think it goes without saying that it is dark magic,” Zeev groaned, wiping his face. “I thought I’d never be confronted with that ever again. I turned to so much light in these past years, the darkness just felt like a minor part of my past and suddenly…” He glanced down at his open left palm, the scar a white line of memory, any palmistry would have called it an overcome hardship. Perhaps, all that was happening now, was yet another consequence of his own actions; unpredictable and unmeasurable.

“I can’t believe we got witches among us, let alone in Macomb, who conjure these sorta magic.” The redhead grumbled, the distaste in her voice as palpable as the teacup in Zeev’s other hand. He winced slightly, still enraptured in who he used to be.

“You’re an exception, honey,” she quickly added upon noticing. “And you’re not cursing anyone anymore, do you?”

“Well,” he huffed. “I can’t deny the thoughts I’m currently having.”

“Thoughts are fine.” Helena nodded. “Can’t deny the murder I’m having on mine right now. They are a threat for everyone, who knows what else they have done already if they are willing to curse the sweetest sunshine the line must have been crossed earlier.” Her black strands were falling from her untidy hairdo. They knew Isaiah quite well and how could they have not? Being close to Zeev required anyone to meet his husband—and listen to his praise and affection over him countless times. The witcher had known Amber and Helena were people—and witches—to keep around the second they got along with Isaiah, being equally giddy about topics too strange for most others, listening to him with shared fascination over the wondrous world and what lay beyond. Amber, knowing more about the solar system than Zeev ever could and Helena, being a history student, never letting the opportunity slide to talk about lost civilisations.

“So, let’s get to the bottom of this, shall we?” Amber clapped her hands, rubbing them together in a motivated manner, her optimism radiating from her like the warmth of her fireplace. “So, you said he withdrew himself, neglected himself, didn’t say much, cried a lot, seemingly lost in grief and sorrow. Sounds like a big time depression, but I ain’t a doctor, so don’t quote me on that. It’s just an easier term. And just today he spoke in a tongue most definitely not his own. Manipulating a human that way is such a pathetic and foul play. And considering what they made him say, it’s definitely aimed at you.”

Not a consoling thought, it made things even much more worse. Getting to him by using Isaiah hurt the right spot. All his fault. Guilt washing over him, threatening him to drown. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let this feeling be his downfall. Isaiah needed him.

The redhead continued. “Needless to say, if the curse ain’t broken, he won’t recover. I’m not that versed in dark magic, but we got an expert on the table. Zeev, I know this will hurt, but for once you gotta stick to the past. What do you know about breaking those?”

Never had he needed to break curses, as the people who had reached out to him were just looking for quick solutions of problems they had caused themselves or were brought upon due to consequences of their own actions and those of others. Zeev, however, had cursed an entire village just to protect his family. He stirred awake.

“A curse breaks when the conjurer dies.”

Helena winced. “Yeah, well… we can’t have that as the first entrance in your criminal records.”

“Honestly,” the other chimed in. “I thought that’s going to be public indecency.”

The joke didn’t resurface as much amusement in Zeev as it would have in any other situation. His jaw clenched as he considered the options. “The thing is, dark magic isn’t… Well, it’s just magic like any other essentially, just way more drastically. It manipulates, changes, alters and affects areas that can not be changed naturally. If you’re sick, surely a doctor could help, but that’s not always the case, especially not in a short amount of time. Dark magic speeds up the process tremendously, but asks for a price higher than usual. While white magic is soft, gentle and slow, dark magic is rough, fast and painful. And while the former is limited, the latter is endless.”

Whatever those witches had to give must have been worth the sacrifice—and it didn’t make much sense for Zeev to go beyond those lengths, just to hurt Isaiah and thus him. On the other hand, who said they had to sacrifice anything?

“Dark magic can do anything, it surely doesn’t stop at breaking curses.”

Amber cleared her throat, eyeing him curiously. “Zeev…”

“Any other ideas?!” he snapped, causing Amber and Helena to twitch. He rubbed his face. “I’m sorry… I—I’m sorry.”

The dark haired student rose from her seat, sitting down next to him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and stroking his back. “It’s okay. When did you sleep last?” He didn’t answer, but his shrug was enough.

“How about Amber and I dive deeper into these matters and see if we find any other solution? Dark magic should never be the first option, if one at all. Even if it seems the easiest, that’s why it’s so tempting, but you must know, of all witches I ever encountered, what it can do to you. We want you well, we all do, everyone in your family. No matter what happens, you will never be alone.”

“What if it’s my last option?” His voice was a mere whisper.

“Then I’ll whoop your ass gently, but you will not go through this alone. Please consult us first, before you do something you might regret.”

He nodded, took a sip of the tea and cried.

After the meeting, he had gone back home, if only to make sure that things hadn't got drastically worse. Richard sat at the kitchen table, bent over a newspaper from yesterday, but no doubt not reading. The coffee next to him showed no sign of being warm and at first it seemed as if he hadn't noticed his son-in-law's presence. It was only when Zeev inquired about Isaiah that he looked up, paused and replied that nothing had changed and that he had fallen asleep from time to time—probably more out of exhaustion than tiredness. Zeev had silently accepted this information, thanking him a little later and forcing a faint smile as he turned to the kitchen and into silence, broken only by the quiet hum of the cooker and fridge. He was preparing a vegetable soup and garnishing it with all kinds of herbs. Whenever he turned the spoon, he went clockwise. Attract. While the soup simmered in the largest pot, he turned his attention to the windowsill, where there were all kinds of fresh herbs; lush green basil, coriander, oregano and sage. Dried bundles of already harvested versions, including rosemary, hung from the curtain rail. He neatly cut off a few stalks, tied them into small wreaths and spread them on and over all the thresholds of the house. A little later, he filled three bowls with the soup and placed one of them by Richard's side, along with bread that Isaiah had bought a few days ago, before the incident. He made his way up the stairs with the remaining two and saw Sarah at her son's bedside, his hand firmly in hers, her eyes glancing only fleetingly at him. He offered her the meal too, stroking her back gently as he stepped towards her. He asked her to give Isaiah his portion, if only a little, as soon as he woke up. It wouldn't change his condition, but it would hopefully alleviate the symptoms. He lovingly stroked his forehead and kissed it gently. He also thanked her for everything she did and the trust she continued to place in him. He could only imagine what was going on inside her. The sight of Isaiah hurt him, for Sarah it must have been agony.

A little later, Zeev entered his husband's office, ignoring the pain in his stomach. He grabbed the laptop, older than their marriage, and flipped it open. What would Isaiah do? He knew by heart. He had watched him countless times, from much the same position he was in now, when he didn’t want to interrupt his work, but couldn’t bear staying upstairs alone. Fondly he remembered moments on this couch, wrapped in a knitted blanket of Sarah, reading in a book while listening to the fast clicking of the keyboard and the every now and then huffs and cracking of his spine as he adjusted in the office chair. Reading though was a bit of a lie, if he was entirely honest with himself. More often than not he just sat there and watched the light tangled in Isaiah’s hair and illuminating his face, his features throwing shade and giving him depth. Sometimes Zeev adjusted on the couch just to have a better look to admire him as he worked, how the concentration wrinkled his nose and how his cheek hollowed when he chewed softly on the inside. Zeev had looked up from his position and for a brief moment he thought to see him there, just as he remembered. Researching.

And research Zeev did. Anyone who ever used the internet left traces. Nothing was ever lost in the stream, just covered by leaves, trash and other remnants. If the witches had ever done that, they surely could be traceable. If his past self would be sitting where he sat, he would be overwhelmed and too inexperienced, but the Zeev now had the best teacher there is. So he started with the basics: witches of Macomb.

Funnily enough, their shop popped up, which wasn’t that surprising.

He kept looking, skipping down the results. The less relevant ones always came much later.

Coven of Macomb

Witch coven of Macomb

Witches of Illinois

Coven of Illinois

Witchcraft illinois

He clicked through a variety of websites, one worse in design than the other and more than once did he wince at the supposedly witchcraft those held. Esoteric beliefs and the need for “alternative medicine” was worrisome to some degree, but not really what Zeev wanted to look further into. Huffing, he paused. Glancing at the coffee mug on Isaiah’s desk. Before his mind's eye he saw him reach for it, just to place it right next to the coaster like the rebel he was, not paying enough attention to do so. He smiled warmly. If google wasn’t enough, there was another hell he could rip open.

He opened Reddit.

There was a thread for everything. Cooking, dreams, technology, books, home decor, fashion, relationships, crafts; central themes for anyone to engage with.

But also the little more specific ones. Vegan, nightmares, sleep paralysis, nasa technology, smutty books, western styled interior, boho, high fashion, toxic relationships and witchcraft.

Zeev wouldn’t say he was good at navigating through the site, but his experience in browsing through all that had to do with The Distorted Files, Isaiah’s work in general and strangely enough their relationship (or what people thought their relationship was like and meant, moreso back then than now), came in quite handy now.

Witchcraft in general was a too much of a wide theme, he’d search ages just to find anything useful. Instead, he narrowed it down by specifying. People loved to connect, especially as close as possible. There were exact areas and places and so there was Illinois, too. “/illwitches”. Perhaps he allowed himself to chuckle in amusement, perhaps it was just madness getting a hold of him.

Mostly it consisted of recipes, spells, tips and tricks, suggestions and anything in between. It would have been a wholesome browse and he made a mental note to check it out once all was over and well again, but he couldn’t dwell on the idea of having more like minded people—and perhaps true witches—in the area. He just wanted to find a specific kind. Zeev wasn’t sure how much time had passed, just that he knew that he grew more frustrated the longer he stared at the screen. For once he experienced first hand what Isaiah went through whenever he tried to find hints and clues; no wonder he grew tense over time. Zeev didn’t try to linger too much on the memory of his hands on his back as his finger dug into his sore skin and muscles.

His brows furrowed at a topic that caught his attention right after he had scrolled past it, caught in the vivid and inappropriate memory. His pointer scrolled upwards again.

[Long] my father passed away and I don’t know what to do, it said.

He skimmed over the text with restless eyes, just enough to grasp the problem. The grief over losing a loved one and the effect it had on others. In this case, their mother. She suffered, withdrew, got lost in her grief and isolated herself from anything, even her child. The redditor asked for help, but Zeev knew nothing could help them, but he wondered if someone would mention they could. Most just shared their condolences, but answered as any would: there was nothing magic could do. Still, the sentiment in their suggestions was warming. Proposing their help, suggesting mundane things and sweet activities. Until:

↪ u/markofsolaris replied • 2 months ago We can help.

They remained vague in their statements, causing quite the ruckus amongst the other members, but every question of how wasn’t truly answered. And when Zeev checked their profile, it stayed that way. Never giving fully fleshed out answers, but always keeping the attention on themselves. Zeev stared at the name of the member.

That was a joke, right?

Adrenaline rushed through his veins, something akin to a fight and flight response causing him to shiver violently. Next to the anger he felt, something else erupted, too. He opened his e-mail inbox, frantically browsing through everything he had ever received—contrary to Isaiah though, he kept it clean. He deleted all that wasn’t necessary anymore and he remembered that he had deleted those mails, too. Unfortunately, the bin cleared itself after a certain amount of time. But what Zeev never tended to and what didn’t delete itself either, was the sent folder.

He had forwarded all to Isaiah that was either weird, concerning or all he just didn’t get or wasn’t addressed to him anyway. Hence, the ominous mails he had received a long time ago. Mails with no caption, with no clear message but: We know who you are.

How long has it been? A lifetime, he felt. And to find them had taken much longer than he had wanted, luckily being able to filter the folder down to specific timeframes. Unfortunately he couldn’t remember the exact year, so he closed his eyes and used milestones of his life to narrow it down furthermore.

Before the wedding.

Before Richard’s sickness.

Before Amber and Helena.

Before Zara.

Before Jersey.

Before his citizenship.

But after he had decided to come to the states.

After he had moved into the house they called a home.

It’s been ages and never would he have thought they would turn relevant again. He picked his phone and dialled Jemma’s number.

“Oh my god, Zeevie,” she yelled into the phone like a grandma, seemingly unaware that she didn’t need to make up for the distance between them. “I’m so glad you’re finally calling. How are you? How’s lanky boy? Is he feeling better? Is he okay? Are you okay? Have you eaten anything? I’ve been looking for short-term flights all day, but they will cost me all of my organs. You know I’d gladly cut them out myself, but you know how it is, I get nervous and then probably just die cause I cut something important.”

“I’m pretty sure no organs will kill you anyway,” he chuckled lightly, for a short second forgetting about the worries he held close to his heart. Quickly, he filled her in with all he could tell her, which was quite a lot. Some years ago he had confessed to her who he was, which she had responded to with a laugh, until proven. Frankly, it had been a stressful evening for him and yet, she had taken it quite well. He’d never forget her saying “you just got 99% hotter, but you’ll never surpass my 200”. He loved her, dearly. And he loved that he’d been able to have her know a bit more about himself, too.

“That’s horrible,” she breathed. “Can’t you just, like, cast fireball and call it a day?”

“Honestly, there’s nothing I’d rather do, but not only would that raise lots of questions, you know I unfortunately can’t.”

“Bummer,” she sighed. “How can I help?”

“I need Jemma magic.”

“Uh, I like that sound, am I invited into your Coven?”

“You’ve always been part of it.”

“Don’t make me cry, I’m already emotional and worried shitless. So, what’s the deal?”

“I’ll forward you an email, is it possible you can find out who sent it? Like, from where it was sent from?”

“Baby, call me Elliot Anderson.” He could feel her smug smile through the phone. Zeev didn’t know who she wanted to be associated with, but it didn’t matter much as it conveyed she knew what she was about to do.

She kept him company on the phone as she got to work and it was helpful, he had to realise. Just to listen to her talk, to hear about her day and how much she cared about Isaiah, who oftentimes had felt like she wasn’t as fond of him as she was of Zeev. He had always known she loved them both and she was well aware of her role in having brought them together in the first place. Jemma took pride in a lot of things, her self-confidence a worthy opponent to his own, but nothing had ever filled her with more joy than being an integral part of their relationship. She wasn’t just a friend, she was yet another of his sisters and part of their chosen family ever since their meeting.

“That’s weird,” she hummed at a certain point, Zeev’s attention perching up. “It’s in Macomb, but I can’t tell from where exactly.”

“Thank you, sun, Jemma, I could kiss you right now. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Uh, first of all: I’ll remind you. Secondly, shouldn’t that be worrying you?”

“At this point, it doesn’t. It’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“More than you can imagine. I’ll need to get to work, I’ll call you soon. I promise. Thank you, truly.”

“You’re welcome. And Zeev?”

“Yeah?”

“Please be careful.”

“Of course.”

“Will he be alright again?” Her voice turned slim.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

“Okay… Okay,” she paused. “I love you. Both of you. Please call me soon.”

“I love you, too and I will. Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Zeev felt elevated when he came upstairs again, a new found hope giving him enough optimism to tackle the next hours to come. It had turned dark by now, time was running low. One last night and one more day, that was all he thought Isaiah might bear. He had to. Zeev knew he could. Despite him thinking that the witcher usually put him on a pedestal too high, Zeev knew he was capable of so much more than he allowed himself to credit. The lights of the living room were turned off, he glanced into the kitchen and noticed with relief that Richard must have eaten the soup. Quietly he went upstairs, saw some faint light from underneath the bedroom door and stepped inside. Sarah had fallen asleep in the armchair across the bed, while Richard sat on the bed, caressing his son’s arm, eyes glued in him much like Sarah’s had been the last time he had come into the room. Isaiah must have been moved, changed into more comfortable clothes and considering the dried line inside the bowl, some of the soup has been eaten. It wasn’t much, but the amount mattered little to its effectiveness. Zeev circled the bed and gently brushed Sarah’s shoulder, stirring her awake.

“Did something happen?” she jolted, hands gripping his arm tightly, all eyes on her son.

“No, no,” he said calmly. “I just wanted to suggest going to bed. We’re here, you need to rest properly.”

“But…”

“We’re here, it’s okay.”

The hesitance on her face was obvious even in the dim light of the nightstand lamp, but she rose regardless. She moved carefully towards her husband, leaning down towards her son, caressing his cheek and whispering quiet “I love you”s in his direction, kissing his pale forehead. It took her several more seconds to manage to turn her back towards him and kiss her husband good night as well, who nodded at her—reassuring her that he, in fact, was here. For a moment, Zeev felt like he was invading a privacy he shouldn’t be part of. He hadn’t kept Isaiah safe. He couldn’t help the guilt that had blossomed in him since the circumstances had grown much bigger than he had initially suspected them to be. Not only guilt over what had happened, but guilt over not being able to tell them truly what had befallen Isaiah. On the other hand, it wouldn’t change much. They’d still be powerless in the eye of the supernatural.

But he wasn’t.

His eyes dropped, allowing them the moment of shared compassion for one another; mother, father and son.

Awakened from his thoughts, he noticed the hand on his cheek. A motherly tenderness that twisted his heart and dampened his eyes. She didn’t say anything, all she wanted to convey was locked in her eyes, openly displayed without resentment, without anger, without hatred or betrayal. Softly, she kissed his cheek, too and left the room.

Silence fell over them once more and it felt wrong to break it.

“Would you give me a moment with him?” He asked, a permission that might as well could be declined and he wouldn’t blame him. Instead, Richard rose to his feet, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and nodded wordlessly, shuffling out of the room after his wife.

Zeev stood there, hovering above the love of his life on the verge of death. This wasn’t fair. It should have been him, but there would have been no use of that either. Despite his caution, he felt Isaiah stir when he moved into the bed. His lacklustre eyes caught Zeev’s, but it seemed almost like he didn’t recognise him.

“It’s me, love. It’s me…” Perhaps he didn’t want him to be. “Zeev…”

As if his name had triggered a memory, his body started to shake and the strengthless crying forced Zeev to join. He laid down beside him, moving as close as he could to not need to move him much as he wrapped an arm around him and rested his head against his chest, combing through his hair with shaking fingers. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.” He whispered, voice trembling, trying his hardest to remain steadfast. Isaiah cried in his arms and Zeev had never felt heavier, the sobbing and the sniffling engraving itself into his heart, scarring forever. If he’d fail to save him, there was no way it would ever heal. “I love you, I love you so much…” He wanted to tell him what he had discovered, how he had talked with Amber and Helena, how he had envisioned him while diving into research, how he had tackled Reddit—which under any other circumstances would have made him laugh—how Jemma had helped him track down the sender of those ancient Emails and what he had planned to do this night, but he didn’t. Those witches had used him as a mouthpiece, who knew if they were able to listen in on him. Instead, he told him of the memory he had while sitting on the couch, remembered him—as if he could ever forget—of the day of their first love confession, how much he hated the winter but loved his Hoodies, of their long car-rides to places he had never seen, their countless museum dates and how much Zeev loved to just lay on the couch in front of the fireplace and listen to him breathing. In between those stories, he told him how much he loved him, how grateful he was to be part of his life and that he’ll never let it go to waste. At some point it seemed Isaiah had fallen asleep—at least that thought felt more comforting than imagining his body shutting down due to his weakness. For a few minutes longer he made sure he wouldn’t wake up again and slowly, but determined, he retrieved the picture Zeev had grown to hate. Which was nonsensical, since it wasn’t the true cause, but the spell of those who had harmed him, but it was the only thing he had in a physical way. Stealing it, as far as Zeev had learned, wouldn’t do any good, but that wasn’t his intention anyway. Not yet. He knew, at some point, he needed to and he feared what that would break forth. For now though, all he needed was a little bit of human remains.

He had placed Isaiah back safe and secure into the pillows before, turning towards the nightstand on his own side, pulling a napkin free from the box and placing it unfolded on the sheets. Carefully, he pricked with his fingernail at the brown edges. Watching the slightest hint of black dots highlighted on the white ground. How much he just wanted to toss the picture into the fire and watch it melt and crumble and turn to dust. But not only wouldn’t that do nothing, it would also eradicate any hope of breaking the curse. He felt Isaiah stir again, forcing him to stop in his movements, exhaling when he kept sleeping. Figuring he had pushed his luck long enough, he folded the picture again and put it right back into the bag. He neatly folded the napkin, too, and withdrew from the bed.

Richard returned into the room when Zeev opened the door for him, offering him to sleep in the bed as well, if he wished, followed by a question if he needed anything, but he just shook his head no. When the witcher turned to leave, the mechanic softly but firmly grabbed his arm, squeezing just the slightest. “You need some sleep, son,” he mumbled, eyes as tired as Zeev felt.

“I know,” he had answered, patting the other's hand. “I will.” It wasn’t a lie. Zeev knew he probably would sleep for ages if he truly succeeded, but it wasn’t tonight. And it wouldn’t be tomorrow.

Leaving the room, Zeev followed the hallway and turned right, moving quietly and tiredly into the attic.

Macomb had turned into a home for both of them. They had lived long enough in the city to know their way around. They’ve walked the streets countless times, just to explore or to stretch their legs. The witcher knew all by heart. From the La Moine River to Lake Michael, from Taco Bell, to the Walmart Supercenter, every greasy fast food chain and grocery store, even the churchyards and the University area. The day he and Isaiah had talked about having children—the idea much appealing—he had started to see the city differently, too. The closest way to any school, the amount of playgrounds and how to get to them safely and public transportation possibilities. It had always been tremendously important to Zeev to know by heart where he was living.

And that came very handy today.

Tracking down a person wasn’t hard of a spell. All it took was a general idea of their whereabouts and something that belonged to them. It wasn’t the most exact—that would have required different measures—but it would be enough. It had to be.

He moved sluggishly around his workspace, glad enough to his way around even blinded. Placing a silverware tray on his table, filling it with just enough with by the sun energised water to create an even surface, picking a stem of thyme for clarity, lighting a white candle for illuminating the path and sprinkling iron filings onto the surface, glistening in the shine of the candlelight. He pulled out the napkin and shook the blood scrapings from the surface into the water as well. The surface stirred, the smallest of faces distorting his reflection. Then, he pulled each individual leaf of the thyme and let them fall as well. Afterwards, his scarred palm hovered over the tray.

Blood to bind, thy path I see, thy essence calls, now come to me. By earth and flame, by sky and sea, as I will, so mote it be.

Behind his closed eyes darkness hovered, a veil too thick to cut through. Specks of light reflected, cones breaking through tree tops and illuminating luscious green fields of meadows. His mind rushed through fields, the intense smell of damp grass tickling his nose; a familiar smell, inviting as it was challenging. He needed to stay concentrated, not letting his memory twist what he was searching for. The faint sound of fluttering wings brushed his ears, a variety of sounds that seemed too unlikely to be found at a mere park. Brown, almost black eyes, obscured by the wave of curly brown hair, hurriedly passed his inner eye. And with that, blackness fell over him again.

But it was all that he needed to know.

It was all that’d lead him to one place specifically.

The Wigwam Hollow Bird Sanctuary.

He leaned powerlessly against the solid wood of his altar, his fingertips dug into the texture and once again he closed his eyes in order to master whatever was threatening to fall over him. But every minute he didn't spend mastering the puzzle was considered a betrayal of Isaiah in his eyes. His limbs ached, his eyes burned and his head throbbed in such a way that he thought it might burst at any moment. Still, he had no choice but to take the moment as it was. To briefly remember that he, too, was only a mortal body that was losing strength, especially without the sun. One more day. Another day and everything would come to an end. It had to. He would allow no other outcome. No matter what he had to do.

The first rays of sunlight would come to the city in a little over an hour, bathing it in a beautiful light and reminding the rest of the world that after every darkness, beauty would return. Macomb knew nothing of the challenge Zeev faced, but he knew all the more. He consulted a few books on witchcraft sigils around the globe and used the time to further explore the meaning of the curse. He set a timer for every five minutes, worried that he would simply fall asleep.

His sore body hadn't even noticed that the sun had awoken—his instincts were usually more reliable than any clockwork in this regard—when Zara's messages reminded him that she was his sister and thus awakened.

“What is going on?”

Only now did he realise that his messages to her had been more than cryptic, especially as he had hardly spelt a word correctly.

“Meet me at the Bird Sanctuary in an hour.”

“Yay!”

The Bird Sanctuary stood nestled against the Wigwam Hollow woodland, a private and restricted area for preservation of endangered species and served as a safe habitat. Zara, however, had sneaked her way into the heart of any wildlife caretaker and thus, had unlimited access to most areas.

As much as Zeev was stubborn, he wasn’t too keen on dying on his way to the meeting point. He didn’t like driving as much as it was, so he turned to public transportation instead. When Zara, looking like the sun herself, saw him approaching, every cheerful smile fell off her face, hitting the gravel beneath her feet with an almost audible clang.

“By the love of the sun, Zeev!” she exclaimed, wrapping him into a hug that wiped out every last breath he had held. Her hands covered the sides of his face, turning and twisting him like a loose tooth. If she had kept going, he was sure his head would have popped off just as easily. “You look absolutely terrible and—oh sun.” Not only did she see what he was conveying with his looks, she also felt it. Every little worry, every little fear, every little sadness and sorrow and grief and the boundless exhaustion. He didn’t need to tell her much more but he did regardless, updating her on what had happened between the break-in and now.

She sniffled, but he couldn’t join her for once. His body seemingly had forgotten how to mourn, his mind too detached from his bodily reactions.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner, you fool.” Lightly, she shoved him, enough for him though to topple backwards and flat on his ass. He grew dizzy. She apologised worriedly and pulled him back on his legs, his movements all but elegant.

“What are we doing here? I mean, I’m sure you’re not here to watch some birds with me.”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“Who?”

“She must be in this area.”

“You mean the one who…?”

He nodded.

“But the woodlands here are no place to live and I’ve been everywhere already.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s living here, but it seems to be an important place for her.”

Zara scrunched up her nose. Usually, the blonde wasn’t one to feel resentment towards other people. On the contrary, she seemed to love everyone. Somehow, Zeev was glad she seemed to have exceptions to that rule.

The spell had led him here, it must mean something. It must mean something today. He glanced up at the rising sun, inhaling within her gleam, the tip of his nose tingling. If the universe had an ounce of luck left, he wanted to be allowed to be egotistical.

“Okay, so, there’s Stephen, the owner. Then there’s Marissa, his wife. They’re usually around, one or the other. Then there’s Paul, Lucas, George and Timothy, as well as Francesca, Lorena and Yashka, but they are all sweethearts. I surely would have noticed if they’re… like that.” He nodded, he couldn’t bring himself to do much more. Eyes scanning the area as he followed Zara through the entrance. “Oh, but we got some volunteers from the University, some Seniors who’ve been here for, uh, three semesters I believe. I don’t do much with them, since I’m usually gone when they arrive, perhaps the one you’re looking for is amongst them?”

“When do they arrive?”

She glanced up at the sun, taking her brother’s hand in hers. “Hm, around an hour or two?”

Two hours. How much time could he waste before it was too late?

The strangest thing was, what if he met her? What if he stood in front of the witch who had brought this curse into their home, defiling their sacred place and destroying their peace? His hands twitched, which Zara answered with a squeeze. He thought of murder, cold hearted, rage filled murder. A thought was okay. He knew he wouldn’t do it, but he wished he could. All he wanted was answers.

And perhaps a little keepsake to bring home.

Zara pulled him along through the fields, showing him their newest protégés, trying to keep his mind free of the dark that undoubtedly has covered his heart. She didn’t dare asking about Isaiah, and she didn’t need to. Just by looking at her brother, just by seeing how much he suffered. If she would know that pleading for his well-being would help, she would have done so.

Much like his conversation with Jemma, the mere presence of his sister soothed some of his senses. Keeping him company and holding him steady—if she wasn’t pushing him that is—when nothing else seemed to. She was there, she was herself and she tried her best to reach his goal.

An hour later, they returned to the main hall, a sweet little and private gathering centre for all employees and occasional visitors alike. A man, presumingly Stephen, just welcomed a small group of students.

Zara remained close as Zeev’s eyes skipped over every face. A blonde man, a brunette woman with green eyes, a dark haired man with blue eyes, another blonde, a redhead, someone with blue styled hair and lastly a young woman with dark skin and a buzzcut. Zeev, finally, felt like crying again. Reassuringly, his sister rubbed his back. “I’m sorry…”

Defeated, he turned to leave, overcome by sorrow and grief of the worst kind.

They left the building towards the entrance, following the path in silence.

“Is there anything else I can help with? You don’t have to go through this alone…”

“I don’t even know what to do myself…”

“Then let’s figure it out. Come, I’ll got with you and then we’ll—”

Within a second, Zeev’s spine straightened, his head shot upwards, his entire body covered in goosebumps, attention displayed on his features as it hadn’t in the last few days. He stared at a young woman, most likely not older than twenty-five, just passing through the security barrier of the entrance. She, too, suddenly looked up. Zeev didn’t hear it, but the way her mouth moved implicated two significant words: “Oh shit.”

Her dark eyes had widened and she tried to step back and flee, but the barrier wouldn’t let her, her body retorting to standing still, as if he’d be unable to see her then. A deer in the headlights. All the anger he felt towards her knotted in his chest, pulling a thread around his heart and tightening, but he remained quiet.

He let go of his sister’s hand, his movements deliberately and refined by steady superiority. She was scared. Good. She should be.

She was a mere child in his eyes, naivety plastered all over her soft features. She didn’t move.

“Zeev…”, Zara mumbled quietly, but he ignored her. He came to a halt in front of the witch who had started it all, most likely not alone, but that mattered little to him. He was nothing more than two quick steps away from her.

“You did this”, he said, his voice lacking softness.

“I—,” she tried. “I didn’t.”

He narrowed his eyes, his presence expanding, the full force of his anger enrapturing her. He watched her inhale sharply.

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” he warned. “Why did you do this?”

“I—,” she swallowed, looking at Zara. He stepped into her view.

“You’re answering to me, not her.”

She nodded hesitantly, her throat twisting as she swallowed once more.

“I’m waiting”, he reminded her.

“We—They—You consort with a human, that’s… that’s unjust. He knows too much. You should—They say you belong—”

“What in the sun’s name is that sorta bullshit?”

She winced, looking around for another attempt to flee at any given moment, but he kept pressing down on her with his glare. Untended hatred piling up in his throat.

“Mother said you belong to us.”

“You expect me to feel flattered? You think destroying my life will make me tend to yours? How about you write me an invite next time that doesn’t consist of curses?”

As much as he would have loved to grab her by the hand and pull her along back home, to get rid of the curse and never have to see her face again, he knew that was an impossible act. “Break it.”

“What?”

“Break the curse.”

“I can’t.”

“Bollocks,” he snarled, moving a step closer to which she reacted with another step backwards, once more nudging into the barrier. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I can’t! Mother wouldn’t—” She sniffled, if that was her trying to reach for his compassion, she was talking to the wrong person.

“Who’s mother?”

She shook her head, tears pooling at her chin.

“Where are you hiding?”

She remained silent.

“Fine, I’ll get my answers.” He closed the remaining distance, hovering above her like the sun itself, he raised his hand and took a brown curl of her hair between his fingers, brushing it back just the slightest. He leaned down close enough for her to hear, whispering calmly: “Tell your mother I made a whole town forget my family ever existed, if he dies, you underestimated me for the last time.”

“Everything alright?” a young man yelled towards them. The girl rubbed her head and darted to the side, taking the distraction and running off towards the exit, leaving the place and Zeev altogether.

“Yes, yes, all is well, sorry Tim!” Zara snaked her arm around her brother’s and pulled him towards the exit as well. “Sun, Zeev, what was that?”

“A step forward,” he mumbled, still caught up in the anger fueling his heart. Between his pointer and thumb, he twirled a few individual curling strands of hair.

As well as for her own conscious and Zeev’s unpredictable demeanour, Zara had accompanied him home, greeting Sarah as she made herself and her husband a morning coffee, words of compassion spilling from her mouth as she had her arms wrapped around the blonde woman, who had welcomed her into her family just as she had welcomed Zeev. Who, contrary to his sister, hadn’t had so much than a nod left as he had entered his home, that felt—despite the people inside—awfully cold without Isaiah well and awake.

“That was unnecessary dramatic, Zeev,” Zara had scolded her brother once Sarah went upstairs to accompany her husband.

“Be glad,” he huffed. “You don’t know how all of this went in my head instead. I think I held it together quite well.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Well, considering option one, letting the one who conjured the curse lift it, didn’t work out, surprisingly, I’m planning option two.” Zeev pulled a napkin from his pant pockets, unfolding it to reveal the hair.

“Zeev, this can’t be the solution…” The worry on her face was quite touching and he understood where she was coming from, but what else was there, if not, by some miracle, Amber would call and tell him the solution was just to kiss his lover awake? That, in essence, was the only sort of pure magic he conjured daily and so far it hadn’t worked.

“What else do you suggest? You think they'll grant me my wish if I ask them nicely enough? This is a dark magic problem and only dark magic can solve it. I'm breaking a curse, not putting one on someone.”

“But it will still leave a mark…”

“That's okay”

“No it's not, Zeev… Where is the point in helping when you hurt yourself in return?” Her hands flung towards his shoulder, shaking him lightly.

“Because I love him more than anything, he's my life and they are killing him. A little dizziness and the possibility of feeling the temptation again is nothing compared to the pain I'm feeling right now. Besides…” Cautiously, he shoved the wrapped napkin back into his pockets, tenderly grabbing her hands, his thumbs brushing over the back. “I'm not alone anymore, I will have y'all to help me get through this, to keep me from succumbing to the pull. I'll not die, I didn't back then and I will not now. And he won't either.”

“What… what will be the consequence?”

“His sickness isn’t a natural cause. It’ll cut the cord they have spun around him and it will snap right back into their faces. I’m not manipulating him, I’m not creating anything out of thin air, I’m just cutting him free. If anything, I restore the balance they have tipped off.” It didn’t need words to see how much Zara disliked the thought and considering the history of them both, he couldn’t say it wasn’t reasonable. But what else did he have?

“Can we please wait for Amber and Helena to call?”

Zeev glanced outside, the sun on its highest point. He had a few more hours. But they’d pass—he wouldn’t wait any second longer than.

Despite all their efforts, it was needless to say that, when Amber called, she hadn’t had good news. However, they had used their network to gather some information about a few Covens around the area, some rumoured to have rather questionable practices. That didn’t necessarily mean there was an ounce of truth behind it, but he’d look into it, when the time was given. Time he didn’t have anymore. He had asked the witches to come to his home and they followed, not questioning the reasons.

“So you’re gonna do this?” Amber had whispered, unsure how soundproof the walls actually were.

“Yes.” There was no time for hesitation.

“How?”

“The blood on the picture isn’t fresh enough, but her hair will do just fine.”

“Geez,” Helena exclaimed, patting her messy bun. She always looked as if she had rushed through the morning routine and still managed to pull off a look. “I’ll be completely honest with you, I don’t like this, but… But I don’t want Isaiah to die like this either.” She paused. “Or at all, that came off wrong. Anyhow, what can we do?”

“First, we need to get the picture from Isaiah’s bag, then we gotta get to the attic without raising suspicion. Sarah and Richard don’t know anything about this and I’d like to keep it that way.” No one argued with that.

Zeev opened the door carefully. This time, Sarah sat on the bed, holding her son as he had placed his head on her lap, his eyes closed. Good. Gently, she ran her fingers through his hair and smiled softly at Zeev as he entered. Richard sat in the armchair, reading in a book he must have found in the living room.

“How’s he holding up?”, Zeev asked carefully in a hushed tone.

“Barely,” Sarah mouthed. “How are you getting along?”

“Closer. Is he asleep?”

“If you can call it that way…”

“Can you reach his pocket?”

Sarah knitted her brow in confusion. “Why?”

“I need the picture.”

“But the last time…”, she gasped lightly.

“I’ll make sure it stays the last time.”

Once again, she stayed quiet, contemplating his instruction. Then, as she kept drawing soothing circles over his scalp and tried to reach for the bag, Isaiah moved slightly. Zeev held his breath, waiting. But he didn’t wake.

“Let me,” Richard offered. His wife needed to move too much, but he had free access. As a mechanic, he had quite the steady hands for his age and if Isaiah didn’t know better, he might have assumed he’d been a surgeon in a past life. He gave him the picture. Gratefully, he took it. “I’ll be back soon.” As he wanted to close the door behind him, Zara stepped next to him.

“I’ll stay with them,” she mumbled, pulling her brother into a tight hug in front of the bedroom door. He didn’t ask her to change her mind, and in a way, having her with them, taking care if against all odds something happened, they’d at least have someone who understood enough to help. He tightened the grip around her. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too, stop being dramatic.” She chuckled softly, nudging his shoulder but for once he didn’t fall.

The three witches retreated towards the attic, the steps of the stairs creaking slightly underneath their shared weight. Amber, who had stepped in last, locked the door behind her. They heaved the table to the side and created an open space. The blonde grabbed a piece of chalk and drew a wide circle over the floorboards. On five ends they placed white candles for dissolution and removal. The convenient thing about black magic was that it didn’t require as much as any other.

The picture as the bearer.

The hair as the conjurer.

And Zeev’s blood as the breaker.

He knelt inside the circle, Amber and Helena watching him attentively, in some way curiously, but worried the most.

“Don’t look at me like we’re all about to die,” he sighed. “You’re making me nervous.”

Amber huffed. “Well, it’s the first time for me, mind you.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

It felt strange to hold the athame in his hands and not just use it for just cutting herbs and envelopes. He stared down at his hand, his heart thumbed heavily in his ribcage, pressing against his skin, daring to bolt out. Adrenaline rushing and numbing his ears, the mere thought of doing what he had done numerous times years ago, resurfaced emotions and temptations he had held so dear to himself. But he had been alone back then. Had thought, if he just grew strong enough, everything would change for the better.

He, however, wasn’t alone anymore and he wouldn’t lose himself again, not after having found what truly mattered. Sarah and Richard, Jemma and Zara, Amber and Helena and most of all, the love of his life—Isaiah.

“Just… stay with me.”

“We can do that,” Helena promised with a smile, kneeling down and enlightening the candles. Amber mirrored her task and both of them sat down on the ground as well, just outside the circle, holding each other's hand as they closed their eyes alongside Zeev. You’ll be alright again, he promised him in thoughts and hoped it would reach him. Hoped, it would be true. If not, the Mark of Solaris would learn who the sun shone for.

He inhaled once. Exhaled deeply. Inhaling again, the blade cold against his heated palm, then he spoke:

Chains unseen, now come undone, by moonlit power and rising sun. Let shadow’s grip release its hold, and cleanse this soul, both brave and bold.

Warm, wet blood dripped from his palm, frizzling as it met the back of the picture. The bitter taste of the steam covering his tongue. For a moment he clenched his jaw, pain searing through his body, his muscles contracting and causing him to twitch. He groaned, gasping in exhaustion.

No thread remains, no tie shall be, the bond is severed, I set thee free. with power mine, I end this plea, as I will, so mote it be.

One candle after the other blew itself out, the hissing sound of his blood on the sigil kept filling the room. Neither Amber nor Helena dared to breath, both eyeing what was happening with growing anxiety. With a clatter, the ritual knife fell out of Zeev’s hand as he bent over in pain, restraining himself from suffering too loudly, pressing his teeth together till his jaw hurt. The witches were unsure if they were allowed to move at all, to touch him, to console him, to do anything.

And then,

nothing.

Zeev exhaled. His body beyond tiredness, beyond exhaustion, beyond consciousness. Or at least, he should be.

And yet he toppled onto his feet, swaying left and right, bumping into the table they had put aside and soon after felt the hands of Amber and Helena wrapped around his arm and hip, preventing him from falling. With hazy, fogged eyes he stared down towards the circle onto the surface of the picture.

And there was no trace of the sigil. Had it worked?

Rough hands gently stroked the blonde's cheek, who has spent hardly any time out of bed for a good two days. His eyes were severely reddened, his cheeks slightly sunken, his whole spine groaned with pain, a kind of pain he had never experienced before and which seemed downright unbearable. Sometimes he writhed a little, which in itself took everything out of him, exhausted and beside himself. “My boy...” was all his father had said, and even though Richard wasn't necessarily a man of big words, the concern in his voice and on his face was clear to see. “Your mom's downstairs with Zeev, we're here. She got some people to cover her shifts so we could be here. Maybe you want to come downstairs, huh?” Richie carefully stroked his son's hair, studying the otherwise lively eyes for a while. “Let's get you a shower first, son...”

Zeev had tried to talk to him two days ago. Told him he would call his mother, commanded him to eat something, explained and reminded him that it was okay to grieve, but not to give in completely to the feeling and lose yourself. It was important to carry on, he himself had preached that, too. And he confronted him. That he too was hurt and sad, that he too was suffering from the break-in, that Isaiah hadn't asked once how he was doing with all this. His hands had clenched, holding the picture frame tightly in his grasp and pressing it against himself as Zeev spoke to him. His spine ached, a pain so present and unavoidable that it paralyzed his whole body and took up most of his focus.

Baby, I want to know how you're feeling, I'll hold you and comfort you and I'll be all yours. You can tell me everything and I am so sorry this happened to you, too. I will try my hardest to get those books back and I promise you I will not rest until I return them to you. You are the love of my life and I'm so sorry all of this is so tiring. But you did so well, the dinosaur never looked better and I cherish and appreciate all that you do. I love you more than anything. All I wanna do is kiss you. I miss you so much. I want to have dinner with you tonight and just be close to you in front of the fireplace. There for you. You are the love of my life, Zeev, please don't throw me away.

And every word died on his lips before he could say it. As if something was keeping him from saying what he felt in the midst of all the sadness that paralyzed his limbs and denied him all his fundamental needs. With every word from Zeev, he felt worse, a sadness and despair that was completely foreign to him grew and flourished within him. But he was his own worst tormentor, he didn't know what was going on inside him, but with every minute that passed, all this seemed so much more pointless. He longed for rest. For peace and quiet.

At some point, his parents seemed to have stopped by. First, he had heard the doorbell, then Zeev's voice, then his mother's. He didn't hear what they said, only that they were talking to each other. He heard Zeev crying and his mother comforting him. How the kettle whistled on the stove. Then heavy footsteps going up the stairs. While his mother took care of his husband, it was Isaiah's dad who first checked on his son's well-being. How carefully he had stroked his hair and looked at him with big, caring blue eyes.

It was embarrassing to be undressed by his parents and guided (or rather helped) into the bathtub because he simply didn't have the strength. Gently, his mother had bathed him, talked to him and, when she realized he wasn't responding, had decided to tell him a little while Isaiah looked absent-mindedly straight ahead, barely managing to keep his focus on his mother. “Emma sends her best... She offered to come, too, but Dad and I wanted to check in on you and Zeev first... Zeev was quite worried about you, too, when he called, just as we were. And he said you stopped talking to him. Did anything happen, love? Did the two of you fight and you don't know what to do? This isn't like you... You were always great at communicating,” she spoke to him calmly and washed his arms, while Isaiah's gaze remained fixed straight ahead. His gaze lingered on the bath oils and shampoo bottles, wondering what would happen if he drank them or if the hairdryer fell into the bath water.

I'm so thankful you're here, mom. Thank you for bringing dad. You have to take care of Zeev for some time. I don't know what's happening to me. Everything hurts, mom, I can't move properly. I feel foreign in my own body. Mom, I feel horrible. Please just hold me, mom, I need you. I can't breathe properly. The last thing I want to do is disappoint you. Mom, please be proud of me. Please love me, mom, I'm still your son.

With difficulty, his mother had helped him into his fresh clothes, dried his hair just a little and told him they would sit together downstairs and maybe it would help if they ate together and just talked—not necessarily about what was going on, just talking. Isaiah looked after her as she left the bathroom, leaving him behind. For a while, he eyed the curtain rod, the shower head, then the rafters in the hallway to the bathroom. Only the latter would be able to support his body weight. If you added the additional force of gravity as soon as he stepped off the chair, nothing could have supported him in the bathroom. A hallway, however, felt less... intimate. His spine ached again, he groaned softly and drew his eyebrows together, leaning forward slightly as if it would help the pain to spread, but to no avail. He didn't want to eat, didn't want to sit with the others and talk about what was wrong with him. All he wanted was to lie in his bed and hold on to all that was dear and sacred to him, all he wanted was the picture-

Irritated and angry, he furrowed his eyebrows. Someone had changed something about it. It was tilted slightly to the left, unlike before. Hasty steps towards his sanctum. Almost reverently, he stroked the frame, the printed face of the man he loved most. “My baby...” he whispered solicitously, as if someone had hurt his heart and pressed the frame closer to him, almost to the point of pain. The pain in his spine radiated, it hurt more than anything had hurt him before, reverberated to his head, buzzing from everything.

“What did you do?!” he spoke in a firm voice, looking angrily at his father, mother and Zeev at the table. There was a skillet in the middle, full to the brim with food. God, how he loved Zeev's food. And he missed it. “You changed it, you had no right to do that,” he spoke into the room without accusing anyone in particular. One of them, however, must feel responsible. Richie drew his eyebrows together and straightened up slightly, taking a few careful steps towards his son. “Isaiah, we didn't do anything,” he said reassuringly to the podcast host, who clutched the picture angrily and drew his eyebrows together. He had rarely felt such anger. Such rage. Silent tears ran down his cheeks as his spine began to ache again, almost numbing him. “You changed it. It wasn't like this before. You defiled it!” The accusations were as absurd as they were unfair. Richie took a step towards him and Isaiah looked at the picture, it had changed so much, too much, it was no longer his, no longer the memory he had held onto so dearly. The one memory that had survived.

He hit the frame hard on the hardwood floor, causing the glass to shatter and smash to the wood. Almost reverently, he picked up the picture amidst the shards and pressed it firmly against his chest. “I'll protect you,” he whispered to himself in the silence, looked down at the glass and picked up the shards, pressing hard so that the sharp edges dug deep into the palm of his hand. The radiating pain in his spine overshadowed this feeling, too. Richard dropped to his knees beside him, gripping his wrist tightly as Isaiah brought the shards to his mouth and indicated he would eat them. “Stop that, Isaiah,” his father had said, trying to hide his shock and his fear, looking at Sarah and asking her to call the ambulance. The son struggled against his father's firm grip, moving his mouth closer and closer to the glass, but the mechanic shook his head. “Isaiah!” his father repeated in a firm voice before the blonde looked up at him, put the photo in his fanny pack and perhaps became one with him. “You're just scared you're gonna lose your sweet, sweet baby boy,” he began and looked up at his father, his voice mocking, overdramatically melancholic, as if he were standing on stage, his gaze going to his mother, then to Zeev. For the first time in almost seven days, he really looked at him. But there was no compassion in his gaze, no love, just mockery and a smile that hinted at the intention of his words. Contrary to that, tears had formed in his eyes, but he smiled as the warm blood ran down his wrist. “And you are afraid you're gonna be alone again, oh, what a terrible fate that must be! But you don't have to be afraid. I promise you, you will never be alone again, you will be taken in.” Richard's grip on his wrist tightened, Isaiah dropped the loose shards of glass, the ones that had become stuck in his palm stayed. Sarah had stood in front of Zeev, protecting and positioning him entirely behind her, even though she was smaller than him. She had taken Zeev in like a son, and in moments like these it was clearer than ever: she would never let anything happen to him. Not even through her own son.

Isaiah made a sweeping gesture and pointed at the interior, then looked back at Zeev: “All this, this mediocre, mundane life— this isn't you, Zeev. This is not what you deserve. But luckily, all of this isn't over yet. You will see and realize that there is so much more to life. And soon, you will be free.”

Zeev? ... Zeev, I need you here. I don't know what's going on. Zeev, I feel so terribly alone and I'm scared. There's something here and it won't let me turn away. I love you. Please help me. Please help me, Zeev. Please.

#*✹˰ ʾ answers . ʿ but you need your rotten heart; your dazzling pain like diamond rings.#hochmvt #( i proudly present 26 pages of a reply )#( and 11k )#( i got no other excuse than spines forever )#( this ship is the most important thing to me currently and for months now and i'm not complaining )#( i'm so thankful these two characters met )#( they are everything )#( and i'm crying )

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dotster001 · 8 months ago

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Eric Venue

Summary: Vil x gn!reader (technically). Vil has always found your mannerisms to be endearing. They are less endearing when they are evoked by his father.

A/N: NEW DILF DROPPED AND I HAVE ZWRO SHAME AWOOGA!!! Special thanks to @animepaniclover122403 and @l1ls4y0 for being my eyes on the inside and getting me pictures. Warning, I'm on the EN server so I know absolutely nothing about Eric Venue so this may be very out of character.

Note: It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age.

Vil remembers the first time you met him. You wouldn't look directly at him, opting to stare at the floor as you mumbled incoherent sentences. Not a clear thought left your mouth.

Were you scared? Intimidated? Or, worse, did you not like the way he looked? That last possibility kept him up longer than he'd be proud to admit.

When he moved in with you during SDC training camp, he watched you walk into a wall three separate times. It was that third time that he realized what the situation was. You were flustered. How absolutely adorable.

Over the course of the weeks, you were eventually able to say more than three words to him. You continued to have issues looking directly at him, but he didn't mind that. It was cute. And a little bit of an ego boost.

Now the two of you were thick as thieves. And, in a teasing mood, he decided to ask you about your initial reaction to him.

As expected, you couldn't look directly at him, staring at the floor as you fidgeted with clasped hands.

Then he heard, barely above a whisper, “I've never seen anyone who is as beautiful as you.”

His heart fluttered. He knew you well enough now to know that you were from another world…

Which meant…

He was more beautiful than anyone you'd ever seen in two worlds.

“Sometimes…sometimes I can't look directly at you because when I look at you I…I can't think, and my mouth goes dry.”

Adrenaline rushed through him, and he couldn't fight off the vicious grin as he cruelly took your chin in his hand, and forced you to look at him.

“You are so adorable.” Then, to absolutely destroy what little calm you had left he pressed a kiss to your nose. You immediately crumbled, your only life line the hand still holding your chin, as he hid his laugh behind a delicate hand to his mouth.

And now? Now he'd invited you home with him for summer break. He'd planned every day's outfit down to the hour, hoping to absolutely destroy you with his casual attire. Not that it was ever truly casual, but that was by design.

And, by the end of the summer, you'd ask him out, and he'd graciously accept. And then you'd live happily ever after.

He forgot to account for one thing…

“It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard quite a bit about you,” his father said with an amused smile, as he pressed a light kiss to each of your cheeks.

Vil knew immediately. Your eyes flicked to his father's, then your entire being crumbled.

“H-h-h-hi, Mr. Venue-”

"Oh please. No need to be so formal. Call me Eric.”

“E-E-E-”

“Father! I thought you had a meeting today,” Vil cut you off quickly, an unconcealed tinge of irritation to his voice. Not that you'd notice. You were too far gone, your face unsubtly turned down to your feet.

“I did, but I'd be a poor host if I didn't come meet your- what are they again?” His father smirked, a challenge in his eyes.

“I'm-I’m his-”

“Y/N’s my guest. My guest. No need to be a host, I have it all taken care of.”

Vil and his father smiled at each other for a moment. A moment too long apparently, because you ended up trying to speak again.

“Thank you for letting me stay in your home,” you whispered, barely audible.

“It's not a problem!” He reached out for your hands, taking them in his own, his thumbs gently caressing your knuckles. “It's wonderful that my son has people that are important to him. Would you, perhaps, like to stay forever?”

In a move very much like one of Vil's, Eric gently tipped your chin up to meet his gaze. Vil watched your face fall under the spell he himself often placed you under. It took everything inside him not to act like a child in a rage. Instead, he placed his hands on your shoulders, and quickly steered you away.

“Y/N is very tired so I will show them to their room,” Vil said. “As I said, I will be their host, no need for you to take time off.”

His father laughed as he quickly shoved you into a nearby guest room. Not even the one he had intended to put you in. But he had to get you away from his dad.

“He smelled nice,” you whispered.

Of course he did. His father smelled of mahogany and expensive cologne. When he was little, that smell meant home. Now that smell meant-

“He was so pretty,” you said with a rather nasty voice crack.

Vil grunted. Grunted! Sevens, the effect you had on him.

Just as his father had done, he took your chin in his hand, and said, firmly, “You're min-my guest. Not his. So try to keep your attention on me.”

You looked at him with big innocent eyes. Vil fought back a distressed, lovesick sigh.

“Understood…but…what if,” you bit your lip, and Vil knew whatever was about to come out of your mouth would give him gray hair. Though, clearly that would be something you would like.

“What if, you shared me?”

He stared at you, opening and closing his mouth a couple times.

“I could be both of your guests!”

“What! Do you know what you're saying?” You had to! At least a piece of you had to, or you wouldn't be continuing the conversation.

“I don't feel safe answering that question,” you said, your eyes narrowing in suspicion at his attitude.

“I'll be blunt, Y/N,” he said firmly. “You cannot date my father.”

“I never said-”

“You didn't have to. It's written all over your face.”

You opened your mouth to protest, closed it, huffed, looked away, then you turned back to him.

“Why not?”

Vil’s jaw dropped. He sputtered, then exclaimed, “Are you seriously asking why you can't date my dad?”

“He's a dilf,” you shrugged.

“You also can't look directly at him!”

“I can change-”

“Doubtful.”

“Wow, okay. I see what this is. You are intimidated by the thought of me as your step parent.”

“You can't be my step parent!”

“I knew it! You're scared of me wearing the pants between the two of us!”

“No! You can't date my dad, because you are supposed to fall for me!”

You blinked at him. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two perfectly manicured nails. There went his summer plan.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” He sighed heavily. “Oh, as in, you feel the same? Or oh as in, awkward, leave me alone?”

You looked away, and Vil was certain if he felt your cheeks, they would feel feverish.

“I-er-ugh.”

“Take your time,” he hummed his amusement coming back to him.

You glared at him, before crumbling again, and mumbling some gibberish.

“You can't even talk to me, but you think you can handle my father?”

You glared at him, then took a calming breath.

“I like you too.”

“Thank sevens,” he pulled you in for a hug, holding back a snicker as he felt you tremble a little.

“You smell good, too,” you muttered, before hiding your face in his shoulder. He could feel his pride swelling.

But only you could bring it down just as quickly as you brought it up.

“Why can't you share me?” your tone sounded innocent enough, but he groaned as he pushed you out at arms length.

“I absolutely forbid you from flirting with my father.”

“I have two hands, so I could hold both of your hands at the same time!”

“Y/N, do not make me use my unique magic on you,” he warned. He watched you glare at him, but you quickly lost your composure as he reopened his arms to you, and you buried yourself against him.

He had a whole summer to keep you away from his father.

Wonderful.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #eric venue

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bluetimeombre · 3 months ago

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ׂׂૢ Hugh and you are WIRED,

You and Hugh take part in the Wired autocomplete interview

[this has been sitting in my drafts collecting dust, enjoy! Not proof read, just the vibes]

'Hello, I am Hugh Jackman,' he smiled at the camera.

'And i'm Y/N.'

'And we're doing the autocomplete interview,' he said.

You smile at how he tried his best. 'The WIRED one,' you added.

Hugh looked back to you. 'Oh yeah.' he laughed and apologised to the crew. 'I'll hold, you peel and read and I'll answer,' said Hugh, taking the board that started with him.

You leaned back in your chair, eyes peering at him. 'So, I do all the work and you sit there, ok, yeah, that's fair.'

He chuckled as you peeled away the first question.

'Is Hugh Jackman Australian?' you read, screwing up the paper and chucking it behind you. 'Um, no, he's not. It's all a bit he does, it's incredible he's kept it up for years,' you answer for him.

Hugh laughed. 'I am, I am Australian,' he insisted.

You shook your head, nudging him friendly. 'Such a good actor. Is Hugh Jackman retired?'

'No, just old,' said Hugh.

You chuckle before looking at the camera. 'He said he was retired but that was a lie,' you poke fun at the amount of times he said he'll never do Logan again... but did Logan again. 'He's a lair like I said- a good actor.'

You rip the next one off. 'Is Hugh Jackman... a good singer? Uh yes!'

'Thank you, there you go,' nodded Hugh.

'He's such a good singer,' you boast, holding his knee. 'Les mis, Oklahoma, The greatest showman.'

'That's where we met,' he smiled. The two of you did meet during the filming of The Greatest Showman.

You smiled back at you. 'We did. Yeah, highly recommend having Hugh Jackman sing to you, it's-it's magic.'

You do a couple more questions before finishing his first board and letting Hugh break it over his knee before chucking it away. 'Oh woah. You know, people would pay to have that done to them.'

Hugh laughs. He takes the board meant for you and peels the first away. 'I've got it love, let me. Is Y/N dead?'

'Starting off strong here,' you said. 'Um, only on the inside.'

Hugh chuckled. 'That's horrible,' he said through his laughter.

'Don't worry babe, I'm still here. Alive and kicking,' you mumble off.

Hugh eventually peeled away the next one. 'Ok, is Y/N in Wolverine origins.'

'No, thank god,' you said as Hugh, again, keeps laughing. 'No, I do not appear in that movie. But a version of my character does for like ten minutes. And i'm sure it was the better ten minutes of the movie.'

'I won't argue with that,' said Hugh.

'So it wasn't me but another actress playing my character.'

'Right, not confusing at all,' said Hugh. 'Just don't think about it really. Yeah. Right, is Y/N a billionaire? If she was, I would've married her by now,' said Hugh.

You laugh, rocking back and forth. 'Now I really need to reach that billionaire status,' you said.

Hugh's board was next.

'Ok, how Hugh Jackman got jacked?' you read, looking over to him. 'How did the Jackman jack?' you asked, the question coming out a bit more on the naughty side than you intended.

The both of you looked at each other promiscuously.

You held up a finger. 'Maybe I should have worded that differently.'

'Yeah,' he chuckled. 'Um, I basically was miserable for six months. No I'm kidding, a lot of training and boiled chicken.'

'Yum! How tall is Hugh Jackman?'

'6'2- 6'3,' he hummed, thinking about it.

'Do you think people are asking cause they're angry you're not 5'3 like Wolverine should've been in the comics?' you asked.

Hugh's face straightened. 'Why'd you have to bring that up?'

You chuckle, peeling away another one. 'What is Hugh Jackman.., made out of?' he laughs as you whisper to the camera. 'Boyfriend material.'

'Is that actually what it says?' he turns the board, checking it. It really did. 'Oh woah. I assume the interweb means the Adamantium in Logan?'

You snorted. 'The interweb, is that what you just called it?'

'Isn't that what the cool kids call it these days?'

You shake your head and toss his board behind you without sparing a thought.

Hugh stared after it. 'Is that how you treat all yours lovers?'

You purse your lips, trying to hold in a laugh. 'It's just a board, babe, you're the real thing.' You picked up the next board for you and handed it to Hugh who was peeling the first one away immediately.

'How is Y/N... oh it ends there. Well, that's very nice, how is Y/N?' Read Hugh, answering before you got the chance. 'She's very well, er, cause she's with me. Next one. Is Y/N single? What a good question.'

Next to you, Hugh was grinning like a mad man, or a man who knew a secret. Or just like an idiot in love. Any of them worked as you just stared back at him. 'Um, you'd have to ask her,' you said, trying to do what you did best and avoid questions.

'We are asking you, c'mon, the people want to know, are you single?' Hugh teased.

You shook your head with pursed lips. 'You know, Y/N is...' you trailed off, mumbling incoherently under his breath.

Hugh chuckled before looking into the camera. 'His name rhymes with Pugh Ackman.'

'Ryan Reynolds, of course!' you say, peeling off the next one yourself. 'Ok, is Y/N in marvel movies? um yes, a few.'

'Most,' Hugh corrected. 'If not all,'

'Yeah, i've done a few in my time,' you answered. 'Started when I was like, sixteen now i'm,' you pretend to count on your fingers, freaking out when you realised the numbers were high. 'Anyway, Hugh's turn!'

'Ok, i'll peel now,' said Hugh, giving you the board.

'Oh thank you, give my poor nails a break,' you said.

'Does Hugh Jackman... smell nice?' he leant over to you and you took an inhale.

You shrug. 'Yeah, he's alright.'

He chuckled and made a gesture at you before going onto the next one. 'Does Hugh Jackman, my name is falling on deaf ears I think now, does Hugh Jackman do all his own singing?'

'Yes, he does!' you yell. 'He's a great singer guys, no debate.'

'No cap!' added Hugh.

'Oh jesus,' you hide your face and laugh into it.

'What?' asked Hugh.

Eventually you moved onto peeling the next one. 'Does Hugh Jackman have tik-tok?'

You laugh too loudly. 'No, could you imagine if he did? I have to help him out with instagram for gods sake.'

'That's true, I do not know what the tik, nor the tok is,' said Hugh. 'Ok, last one on this board. Does Hugh Jackman do all his own stunts? No.' he threw the board.

'That was an easy answer,' you scoff. 'Do you want to tell us why?'

Hugh thought about it. 'No.'

'Alright then, my turn,' you said.

Hugh took the board before you could, not letting you hold it or do your own peeling. 'Alright, ready? Does Y/N do all her own stunts, aw, we're matching.'

You laugh. 'Um, I try to,' you answer. 'I try to, I really do but some are just too dangerous. Like I'm legally not allowed to jump from a building into a dumpster or walk away from an explosion.' You give Hugh a look, referencing that scene in Wolverine origins which he cringed at.

'Does Y/N write her own songs in The Greatest Showman? Can I answer this?' Hugh asked you.

You lean back. 'Only cause I know you're going to gush at me, so go ahead.'

Hugh got his answer ready. 'So when Y/N came on the project, it was only a half developed idea- if that. And I'd seen her at an Oscar's party and we started chatting and I asked if you were interested in this little project we were doing, you immediately came on board and started writing songs for this. I think, in total you wrote, what was it four- five?'

'Five I think,' you nod.

'Five of the greatest songs on that movie. Honestly, hearing it live and in the workshops was just, the best thing i've ever heard,' Hugh looked back at you, a loving smile on his lips.

You pout and rest your head on his shoulder. 'God that Pugh Ackman is a real nice guy.'

Hugh laughed and pecked your forehead. 'Does Y/N enjoy being in the avengers?'

'I do yeah,' you answer. 'I think there's like a lot of talk that when you stop playing a role you're supposed to come out and say you hated it, but I loved it. And I still love it. And I'll always love it.'

Hugh held up a hand. 'That being said. She would love being in the X-men more.' He waited for you to reply but you didn't and just stared at him. 'Ok, never mind. Anyway. Does Y/N drive?'

'Absolutely,' you nod. 'I've got the speeding tickets to prove it.'

'Ok, so these are your last boards,' said the lady behind the camera.

Hugh frowned. 'Oh, i'm having fun,' he said, taking his board.

You shrug. 'We'll just have to google ourselves at home more often.'

Hugh agreed and peeled the next ones, these questions beginning with 'Why'. 'Why Hugh Jackman, returned as Wolverine?'

'Good question, liar,' you said.

'Well, at first, you know, I wasn't going to, I really wasn't,' he spoke, looking to you as if cameras weren't pointing at you. 'But then this Ryan... Gosling guy? I think that's his name. He just kept asking and asking, turning up at my house, he got my number, I don't even know how-'

'Yeah, sorry about that,' you added.

Hugh laughed before carrying on. 'Eventually you know, he waved a bag of cash in my face and I knew, just to get him off my tale, I had to.'

'Yeah, that sounds like a Ryan Gosling move.'

'Why didn't Hugh Jackman win an Oscar?'

'Guys, that's mean,' you tell the camera.

'Thank you, interweb for reminding me I didn't win an Oscar,' said Hugh. 'Well, listen, when you find out you're up against Daniel-Day Lewis, you kinda know not to prepare a speech. And then when your publicist the next day calls and says yeah don't worry, you- you don't worry.'

'You were robbed for Logan,' you mused.

Hugh agreed with a chuckle. 'She's my number one fan. Why Hugh Jackman ran naked?'

You perked up. 'Hello, he what?'

The crew laugh at your excitement.

'It was for X-men two... well, I feel like every X-men movie I strip down,' said Hugh. 'Thinking about it.'

'Got to get that watch rate up,' you said.

'Yeah, exactly. So I did a scene in X-men two where I was running the corridor after just finding the metal in my body and the claws,' he explained, again only looking at you.

You nod, like it was the first time you were hearing the story. 'As you do.'

'And then I turn the corner and the entire crew of women are just there waving dollar bills and I, on reflex, went to cover myself you know and then I cut myself.'

You seethed in pain. 'And then you did it for Wolverine one and two and the next X-men movie,' you listed.

Hugh nodded. 'Then I never stopped.'

'Why would you?' you asked, raking your eyes up and down him and winking.

The last board up was yours.

'Ok, let's go,' said Hugh, scraping at the board. 'Why Y/N is famous?'

You laughed.

'Because she's fucking talented!' said Hugh, 'why wouldn't she be famous?'

You shrug. 'It was gonna happen one way or another. I became famous because I wanted money. And Hugh Jackman, one of them i've got, the other i'm still working on.'

Hugh grinned, wriggling his brows. 'Why did Y/N win an Oscar? Oh, you won one,' he joked, glaring at you as you laughed. 'Lucky you.'

You read the question again. 'I mean- that feels almost condescending you know like oh she won an Oscar, why?'

Hugh stared and pointed at the camera again, repeating himself. 'Because she's fucking talented! Why wouldn't she win an Oscar?'

'I won best actress for a movie called Room, which was very tough, very well written annnndddd I deserved it,' you shrug.

'Why did Y/N marry Hugh Jackman?' he gasped. 'You married him?'

'I have not yet, but I am engaged to Pugh Ackman, so um, please, feel free to send us gifts,' you say causing Hugh to drop the board and laugh. 'Um, I really need a new toasted and he likes watches.'

'Oh, he sounds like a nice guy,' said Hugh.

'He is, he's great.'

taglist (thank you!): @oatmilkriver, @angstdaddy, @chronicallybubbly, @white-wolf-buckaroo, @th3mrskory, @wolfyychan, @chaimshelii, @wolviesgirl @haytchee, @aoi-targaryen

#hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #hugh jackman edit #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman wolverine #Hugh Jackman x femreader

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ienjoywritingfilth · 5 months ago

Text

a sinner i am

If its so wrong, why does it feel so good?

trope: Boyfriend's Dad PP character: Joel Miller x f reader summary: Your boyfriend Shawn Miller and his dad Joel bring you along to Hawaii for Christmas vacation. Things don't go as planned.

warning: 10/10 on the sexual tension scale, slowishh burn, kissing, grinding, cheating on your bf (but it’s cool, cuz its with Joel and everything is fictional in this universe), alternative universe b/c daddy miller stays alive and hates golf and he has a son named Shawn, no Sarah. rating: E

words 6.8k

wanna see my other stuff?

part i : takeoff

The best things in life are the people we love, the places we’ve been, and all the memories we’ve made along the way. - author unknown

"Loving him is a sin; of that I'm fully aware. But a sinner I am." - Bella Jewel

Your boyfriend Shawn brings over two iced coffees as the two of you work on a crossword together at your local coffee shop. You have been filling in the squares quickly.

"Thanks babe," you say warmly as you take the coffee from him. He presses a kiss to your temple, taking a seat next to you.

"Damn, you're fast this mornin'," he says when he sees all you've filled in. It's a tradition for the two of you; weekend crosswords over coffee. It's nice. It's domestic.

It's a little boring.

You're college sweethearts who met your sophomore year and have been inseparable since. And while the love is still very much there the butterflies have unfortunately been hibernating for a while.

It's normal, you tell yourself when you sometimes zone out during sex. It's normal when you've been together with someone so long.

"It's so nice to be doing this instead of college essays," you say.

"Fuck yeah it is."

This is your first summer of freedom without the threat of schoolwork looming in the near distance. Shawn is starting his master's in the fall and you've just accepted a position at the local museum.

“Just think I’ll actually be able to enjoy Christmas this year,” you tease. “Unlike someone who’ll be working on essays.”

“Hey now,” Shawn says with mock offence. “I’ll be able to enjoy my Christmas just fine. Actually, my dad wants to celebrate Christmas somewhere warm this year. He's talkin' about some resort in Hawaii."

Shawn comes from money, the son of the infamous Joel Miller of The Miller Company, the premiere construction firm in Texas. This means expensive vacations, nice cars, all of that is normal for him. You meanwhile have had to work hard for everything you have.

Being left behind at Christmas seems strangely unkind for the normally thoughtful head of the Miller family. Shawn's dad has always treated you like one of the family so this news is unexpected.

"Have a great time," you say trying not to be jealous. "Bring me back some chocolate macadamia nuts."

You can admit that even though both Shawn and his father are humble, kind men, you're always a bit bitter that they live so nicely. Leaving you out of their holiday vacation seems especially unkind.

"He's taking both of us babe," Shawn says with a grin. "You think he's gonna leave you behind on Christmas? After you’ve spent the last six with us?"

Christmas in Hawaii? Is this a dream? Your pencil lays forgotten on the table as you gape open-jawed at your boyfriend.

"Are you serious?"

"Babe," Shawn says meaningfully. "My dad likes you better than he likes me. Of course you're invited."

You've always gotten along with Joel. It's impossible not to. He's friendly, funny and charming. There's a reason he's good at his job. And you're a good girl, a kind girlfriend to his son with clear career ambitions.

A smile breaks out over your features and you pull Shawn into a tight hug. He chuckles, embracing you back, kissing your cheek.

"Make sure you don’t overpack, okay?" He murmurs in your ear as you giggle. “I don’t feel like helping you haul six bags of shoes for a week-long trip.”

Thoughts of lounging by the pool with a drink in one hand and a magazine in the other while the Hawaiian sun beats down on you is all too enticing. You kiss him fiercely, imagining the time together.

"I can't wait."

The two of you finish the crossword puzzle all the while talking about the drinks and food and the excursions you'll both take.

"Maybe once I've got a handle on school we can think about findin' an apartment in the new year," Shawn broaches, his hand over yours.

Sex fades, but this? This domestic stuff you have with Shawn? That's special. That's love.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

He gives you a smile, that dimple poking out of his cheek that makes you swoon.

"Ready to go?" Shawn asks, extending his hand to you when your coffees are drained.

"Yeah," you say with your hand taking his. "Let's go."

When December twentieth announces itself with a thunderstorm you couldn’t care less because you’re at the airport. Your large rolling bag bag is stuffed with cute outfits, swimsuits and even some snorkelling gear.

"Feels like you got a dead body in here," Shawn laughs as he struggles with the two bags, handing you yours before swinging an arm around your shoulders.

"I wanted to be prepared."

"Let's go my little Girl Scout," he laughs with a gentle kiss to your temple. You both check in and then find your boarding gate.

"I'm gonna grab breakfast, you want anything?" Shawn asks as he parks you and the suitcases by the gate full of noisy travellers.

"Nah, I'm good."

Shawn jogs off in the direction of a Starbucks you passed on your way in.

Out the larger windows you can see planes taking off. You've never flown before; you thought that you'd be excited. But at the first view of those planes out the window you feel your stomach drop.

They’re so big and bulky. How does it fly properly? It couldn’t. What if people shift around too much in their seats? Surely this can’t be a safe form of travel!

You pull out your phone, distracting yourself with a game. You try for several moments but your eyes keep being drawn to the huge planes outside. You grimace, wondering if you should have gotten your doctor to prescribe you something for anxiety.

"Cheer up," a voice says. "You look like you're goin' to prison, not a five star resort."

You glance over to see Shawn's dad, Joel, at the other side of you, an amused look on his handsome face. He's wearing jeans and a faded grey Longhorns t-shirt. You're momentarily thrown as normally you see him in dress pants and button downs for work.

"I'm excited for the resort, just not the giant metal death box hurling through the air that is my only means of getting there."

"Touche."

Shawn jokes about Joel liking you better then he likes him, but the truth is you and Joel are very similar. Your senses of humour, your ability to read people, your tendency to see the worst in people before they prove themselves worthy.

Shawn is more like his mom, sweet and naive at times, always seeing the good in people. It's ironic considering which parent stuck around to raise him and which one escaped the country six years after Shawn was born.

Joel takes the empty seat next to you, his kneecap kissing yours as he pulls out his phone.

"Never flown before," you explain.

"Ah, I see," Joel puts his phone in his pocket, his attention fully fixed on your face. "Well what if I told you it's actually the safest way to travel?"

"I'd call you a liar."

Joel chuckles richly, his hand falling to your knee and squeezing as he laughs.

"I promise you, I wouldn't take you on anything unsafe. And if all that's not good enough, you'll have Shawn beside you holding your hand the whole time."

You grin at that, nodding. The thought of Shawn being there does help your anxiety. Joel smiles back, eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Thank you so much for inviting me along in this trip, Joel. I've always wanted to go to Hawaii."

"S'a beautiful place," Joel nods. "And you don't need to thank me. You're practically family at this point."

Shawn returns with a muffin and two coffees in hand.

"Hey dad, got you a coffee," Shawn says handing it to his father.

"Thanks," Joel says gratefully. Just then the intercom alert sounds

"Good afternoon passengers.This is the announcement for flight 82B for Oahu, Hawaii. We are now inviting passengers to begin boarding. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Thank you.”

“That’s us.”

The lineup goes uncomfortably fast. You stand beside Sean who is talking to Joel behind you, the two of them deep in conversation about football, a subject you couldn't care less about. You are still too preoccupied with the flight, being surrounded by almost all strangers sailing through the sky.

You're not a fan of heights. So when you get to the door of the plane you hesitate, willing your foot to move. When it doesn't and the flight attendants shoot you a confused look, you feel yourself start to panic.

Shawn has gone on ahead to grab your seats and place your carry-on bag in the overhead bin, not noticing that you're not behind him. A large hand flies to the small of your back, a comforting gesture. Joel. He rubs there, soothing you.

"You'll be okay darlin'," he rumbles in your ear. "Remember, it’s safer than drivin' a car."

“Liar.”

Joel’s deep chuckle makes you grin and you allow Joel to gently prod you onto the plane, shooting the waiting attendants grateful looks for their patience. He takes his seat near the front, watching as you make your way to your seat next to Shawn. As you buckle in a thought occurs to you and you move your voice to a whisper.

"Isn't it gonna be kinda weird with us being there all week with just your dad? I mean, sharing the place and all?"

"Nah, he made sure the rooms were far apart. Plus, he invited his girlfriend to come along so I doubt we'll see much of him."

Joel is a chronic workaholic, often pulling late nights and working on his phone. You’ve seen him out and about with beautiful women at the events Shawn takes you to but never formally dating them. You always assumed to be a lifelong bachelor. You wouldn't blame him, especially after what he's been through with Shawn's mother.

"I didn't know he had a girlfriend," you say honestly. "Good for him."

"A couple months now," your boyfriend tells you. "You know my dad, mister private. But he took me to dinner and told me about her so I think he's getting serious."

"That's really sweet," you say honestly. You want nothing but the best for him.

All of a sudden the plane starts to jiggle, sending people stumbling down the aisles and others gasping in surprise. You reach over and grab Shawn's hand, trying to regulate your breathing.

"Not so tight, babe," Shawn complains before gently sliding his hand from under yours. "You scratched me with your nails."

"Sorry," you mumble, eyes closed as the jostling of the plane continues.

You tighten your seat belt before gripping the seat arms so tightly that your knuckles are white. Sean squeezes your kneecap, murmuring that everything will be okay and that you’re safe. You keep your eyes closed, trying to focus on the soothing sounds of his words.

Eventually the plane enters smooth skies and the seat belt sign is turned off. Despite this you remain keyed up, sitting stiffly as Shawn fades into a nap.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

You crack open an eye to see a beautiful redheaded flight attendant bending down towards you with a glass of what appears to be whisky in her hand. She extends it towards you and you take it confused.

"This is from the gentleman in A-1. He says to take this and you'll be relaxed for the rest of the flight."

You look up a few rows to see Joel giving you a brief wave. You thank the women before raising it towards Joel in a Cheers motion.

Drink it. Joel mouths.

Yes, sir. You mouth back complete with a stiff fake salute before tossing back the drink.

He grins at you before settling back in his seat.

The drink does the job.

"Here we are."

The cab drops the three of you in front of the beach resort. When you step out the air is fragrant with the scent of flowers. You wait while Joel checks you all in before he's back, motioning for you both to follow.

There's the main section of the resort with luxurious hotel rooms. The more secluded section contains a variety of self contained houses that dot the waterfront. Its reserved for people who have unlimited credit card limits and drive cars that cost more than your parents first home.

When you arrive to your unit, your eyes are ready to bug out of your head. It's massive, as far as vacation rentals go. When you all step into the air conditioned unit you have to take a moment to take it all in.

The beach house is beautiful with floor to ceiling windows, stunning tile floors and tasteful furniture. All of this is topped off with spectacular views of the beach outside your door.

A plate of sliced pineapple and chilled wine sits on the kitchen table, along with a note that Joel reads when he wanders over.

"Welcome note," he explains when he sees you looking at it. "I knew the owner back in trade school."

You and Shawn nod, your boyfriends hand trailing down your back gently. It's much the same as what Joel did back at the airplane, but it feels different. You trail your suitcase behind you hearing the clack of it against the stone floor as you move around the room.

"Wow."

It's all you can utter as the three of you tour the rest of the unit. There’s a simple kitchen with an expensive looking coffee machine and a brand new bag of kona coffee waiting to be used. The living room holds a table and four chairs, a few board games and a list of nearby places to visit along with the wifi code. The couch is simple, placed in front of a large television that you’re sure you won’t use.

"My bedrooms on the right," Joel tells you both. "Yours it's on the left. We're sharin’ a bathroom, sorry about that. Pretty common in these places."

Who cares about sharing a bathroom when you're in one of the most beautiful places you've ever been? Even the bathroom is beautiful with its high waterfall shower head and sleek marble. This place must have cost a fortune for the week.

Joel encourages you both to take a look at your room down the hall and you don't hesitate to take Shawn's hand, dragging him there. Shawn pushes open the door to the bedroom and you can't hold in your shriek.

"Holy shit! It's gorgeous!"

The big windows overlook the ocean, the late afternoon beach beckoning to you. The bed is large and plush with white sheets, and framed prints of Oahu sunsets. Its spacious, the bed so large it looks like two giant beds pushed together. The closet is spacious and boats dozens of wood coat hangers.

“Wood, because it’s classy,” you tell Shawn in amusement who is already unpacking his suitcase while you continue to stare in a daze.

"You like it?"

Joel is standing at the door frame, a shoulder balanced against it, watching you take it all in. He's smiling at you in that gentle, sweet way of his that makes you feel cared for.

You're suddenly overcome with gratitude and you streak over to him.

"Thank you, Joel!" You say, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him. "This is the most beautiful place I've ever been."

Joel laughs along with Shawn at your embrace and enthusiasm, holding you around the middle and hoisting you in his arms. Your face presses into his neck as he squeezes you, and the scent of leather and sandalwood envelops you.

You've never really hugged Joel before. Maybe a polite side hug during family events, a high-five during baseball games and even once a hard push to his shoulder when he made fun of you for being afraid of a spider that had gotten into the house.

But you've never had your front pressed to his, never really felt the muscles of his back and arms, seen the tendons in his neck or realized just how big his hands are when they squeeze your waist before lowering you.

"I guess that means you like it," he says, red-faced. You pull back, embarrassed at your overzealous response.

Shawn and his dad are very similar in their looks. Except Shawn is clean-shaven while Joel has a beard and Shawn's eyes are hazel like his mom's while Joel's are the darkest brown you've ever seen. You've never really noticed how dark until this very moment.

You shoot him a cheery thank you again before smiling and skipping over to Shawn announcing that you'll unpack as well.

"You two enjoy, I gotta make a few calls but then we can head out to dinner."

"Sounds great," Shawn says as he searches for his phone charger.

Joel closes the door behind him and you turn to your boyfriend. You can't explain it but you feel turned on. The Hawaiian air must be doing something to you because

You crawl towards where he kneels unpacking. You grin, feeling the pulse of desire hitting you below the navel. You kneel beside him, dropping your voice to a husky murmur.

"Should we break the bed in?"

An hour later the three of you are sitting at a local eatery. Joel and Shawn are talking with one another while you scan the busy restaurant.

Couples, families, all laughing and cheerful. And why wouldn't they? This is Paradise after all. But you don't feel anything like it, if anything, you feel like a little black rain cloud.

Shawn turned down your earlier advances, citing that he was too tired. The problem is for the past three months Shawn has been too tired most of the time. At first he blamed grad school but when you pointed out he still made lots of time for gaming with best friends Brian and Kevin he'd been quick to explain that gaming relaxed him.

That conversation had gone over about as well as a turd in the punch bowl. You remember being so hurt at what you felt was a slight against you. Weren't you relaxing? Weren't you something that made him happy?

So yeah, you had hoped that this little vacation might stir some of that old spark back. But maybe you were too eager. You had just arrived at the place after all. Maybe you were being unfair. Still, the rejection stung.

"Thought we could do all the tourist-y shit while we're here," Joel says after you've all placed your orders. "Luau, sunset cruise."

"Snorkelling?" Shawn offers.

"Hell yes," Joel nods grinning. "ATV tour too."

The Millers like to have fun. They also like to keep busy. It's like second nature to them to be off on adventures or activities. You meanwhile plan on spending lots of time by the pool or the beach, reading and drinking.

"What about you, darlin'?" Joel asks between sips of whisky. "What're you hopin' to do?"

You know exactly what. The thing you've been dying to do since you were a kid at the aquarium.

"I wanna swim with the turtles."

Shawn bursts into amused laughter beside you, and if you weren't already irritated with him before, you certainly are now. He grins at you not understanding that you're secretly furious with him.

"Turtles? Really?"

"What's wrong with turtles?"

"Seems kinda babyish doesn't it?"

"What's babyish about liking animals?" Joel cuts in. "You forgetting about the time we wouldn't let you in the petting zoo and you threw your shoe at me?"

"I was five, dad."

"Yeah well, some things don't change," Joel says with a smirk. "Still throwin' tantrums when you don't get your way."

"Fuck off old man," Shawn says through chuckles. “Don’t forget I’m your only child. I pick which retirement home I’m gonna stick you in when your mind goes.”

“Little bastard,” Joel mutters, trying to hold back a loud laugh.

He settles for tossing a drink umbrella in Shawn’s direction, chuckling when Shawn dodges it easily. You can't help but laugh along with him, your bad mood fading.

By the time dessert arrives you're all several glasses of wine in reminiscing about Shawn's last attempt at surfing.

"I've gotten better," he exclaims. “I swear.”

"Yeah well we'll see about that," Joel says paying the check. "Alright team, let's head back and get some shut eye. This old man needs it."

You roll your eyes at that. Joel isn't even fifty and even if he was he's about the best looking man his age bracket and younger. You've seen the way women stare at him, whispering, blushing when he looks their way. He is not what you’d qualify as old.

The three of you arrive back at the unit to the sound of nighttime creatures croaking and buzzing.

"Alright I'll meet you two out here tomorrow morning around nine. We can go to the excursion desk and plan the week. Sound good?"

"Sounds good, night Dad."

"Night Joel."

The three of you part ways into the opposite bedrooms. Shawn nuzzles your neck gently kissing there. He always does that when he's been drinking. You smile delightedly at this, eager to get into bed.

When the lights are off and the two of you have slipped off your clothes and under the covers you roll towards him, peppering his face with soft kisses.

"It's late, babe," he murmurs, kissing you sweetly but with finality.

"We're on vacation," you remind him, slipping your hand under his boxers.

You feel him slowly start to harden in your grip. You hear his breath hitch and you smile, knowing those sounds so intimately. You tug off your panties and slide onto his lap, preparing to ride him.

"Fuck me," you whisper, hips grinding against his. "Wanna feel your cock in me."

“Baby, no.”

Shawn pulls you off of him and you tumble into the bed next to him, feeling your cheeks grow hot with humiliation.

"My dad is right across the hall," Shawn hisses. “I don’t want him hearing us.”

Rejection never sits well with you and immediately you feel yourself growing defensive.

"You're dad is gonna be across the hall the whole week, Shawn,” you whisper angrily. “So what, we're not going to have fuck this entire trip?"

"We'll have sex," Shawn said rolling his eyes. "Just not when my dad is ten feet away sharing a fuckin' bathroom with us."

Bullshit. Another excuse to put off the intimacy that’s been dwindling for months. You push yourself from the bed, tugging on your dress from earlier. Shawn leans up on his elbows, giving you a look of concern.

"Where are you going?"

"A walk."

"I'll c---"

"No," you say sharp as a knife. "I want to go alone."

You stalk out of the house, eyes glossy with hurt and anger. That's the thing they don't tell you about relationships that have gone on so long -- both partners need to work to keep the fires going.

You make your way to the beach along the softly lit pathway. Its well after midnight and the resort is quiet; the lights dimmed or off entirely. You take a seat on a nearby rock, listening to the gentle sound of the evening waters lapping by the shore. You're very excited to go swimming tomorrow. To feel the warm sand underneath your feet.

You can hear noise coming from the far end of the resort. You remember over dinner Joel going through the resort map on his phone, letting you know what amenities they had. He had told you both about the dance club the resort had.

Shawn had immediately laughed, stating that he’d take a pass on it. Shawn hates dancing. You tried to get him to do dance lessons with you once but he wouldn't even give it a shot.

Right now it seems all you can do is focus on Sean's flaws. You know that he's a decent man, you know the treats you well, but there are these bugaboos these irritants that can't help frustrate you right now.

"Fuck it," you murmur to yourself, raising yourself from the sand and brushing it from your sundress. You follow the sound of the music, stopping in front of a door with blinking lights. A man in a blue Hawaiian shirt smiles at you when you approach.

"Aloha, may I ask your Unit number?"

"Number 4, under Miller."

The man types into his computer before nodding, opening the door for you. You step into the darkness, letting your eyes adjust to the blue lights and colourful dance floor. The speakers are playing typical vacation music with a heavy bass.

Bodies writhe on the dance floor, half naked in revealing dresses or in the men's case, unbuttoned shirts. You order a drink at the bar, taking it with you as you scout the area for a free chair. A hand on your wrist surprises you.

"Joel?"

Joel is seated at one of the small circle tables nursing what appears to be a tumbler of Scotch. He motions for you to take the free chair next to him and you do gratefully falling into it, your arm bumping his.

"What are you doin' here? Since when does Shawn dance?" He asks over the bass, grinning. He looks a bit tipsy, his neck red.

"He doesn't, I'm here alone. I needed to blow off some steam," you tell him over the music.

"Me too," he says loudly back. "Couldn't sleep. Too excited, I guess."

You nod, looking back at the dance floor wistfully. Everyone looks like they're having such a fun time, their worries and concerns far away from them as they undulate to the rhythm of the music. Joel takes another sip of his drink, watching you from the corner of his eyes.

You wish Shawn was here with you, you wish he was spinning you around on the dance floor. You wish it was like those early years where you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

"You and Shawn doin' okay?"

Joel's voice cuts into your confusing thoughts. You glance his way.

"Why do you ask?"

"Cuz I'm a dad," Joel. "And I've been married. And I know what tension between two people looks like."

You sigh heavily, your mind drifting to earlier. You don’t answer Joel because what would you tell him? You can’t tell your boyfriend’s dad that you’re worried his son is growing distant. You can’t tell him that your sex life has been disintegrating for the past several months. Instead you just shrug.

"You two talked about marriage?"

"What? No.”

You and Shawn have been together a long time, but you have no intention of settling down anytime soon. Sean is still doing his masters and you're loving your job at the museum.

"Good. No, not like that," Joel amends when he sees your stricken expression. "I just mean you're both so young."

"You were younger than us when you got married.”

"Yeah and look where that got me," he says with a scoff.

"Yeah, well, I think it's just been a long time and we're hitting a rough patch. Nothing we can't overcome," you add quickly. "It's just hard sometimes, you know?"

"Yeah," Joel nods. "I know."

The two of you lapse into silence, watching the twirling, shouting, laughing people swan around you. You shouldn’t be glum, you should be experiencing life!

"You wanna dance?"

His voice is low and husky in your ear. You start, surprised to see Joel inches from your face. You know he's speaking so close to you because it's so loud in here, but it doesn't stop your pulse from ticking at the shock.

"Don't really know how.”

"Shit reason. C'mon."

Joel throws back the rest of his drink and drags you onto the dance floor. You laugh as he spins you, both of you almost knocking into an older couple who are taking the dance very seriously. They shoot you both a nasty look and you and Joel have to work hard to muffle your laughter.

"You're gonna get us kicked out!"

"Nah," Joel shakes his head, spinning you again but closer to him. "I'm too charmin’."

"You think pretty highly of yourself don't you?"

Joel shrugs, laughing as the song ends. Another quick one begins and Joel looks serious.

"I'm gonna teach you some moves Shawn's mom taught me."

"Okay."

You're surprised, he doesn't really mention Shawn's mother very often.

You watch as Joel attempts to teach you some simple dance moves. You don't know if it's the stuffy club, the drinks running through your veins or the fact that you're dancing with your boyfriend's dad, but you can't really focus on the steps.

"I give up," you moan after the fifth failed attempt at a two-step.

"You ain't a quitter," Joel assures you, trying to spin you slowly so you can get your footing.

You never realized that Joel was such a good dancer. Watching him move his tall body is strangely hypnotizing, mainly because you never expected a man that broad and muscular to move so fluidly.

"Atta girl," he says proudly when you get some of the footing correct.

You smirk when you see the women nearby watching him, shooting him smiles. But his focus is on you, teaching you the moves and assuring you: it's alright darlin', we'll get you there just take your time.

You're having so much fun with him you barely realize that an hour has gone by and you can only tell when you realize the back of your neck is damp with sweat.

You're about to announce your heading back to the unit when the beat slows and many trickle off the dance floor. It's a slow song, and only the couples remain in the glowing dance floor.

You go to step off when you feel Joel spin you again, back into his arms. You smile breathlessly up at him, the two of you shiny from perspiration from the dancing and the warm crowded space.

Joel is looking at you strangely, his eyes luminous in the reflection of the twinkling club lights. When he slides a hand at your lower back and urges your hands around his neck you don't hesitate. You lace your fingers there, shifting from foot to foot.

You feel strange to be dancing with Joel. And not because he makes you feel uncomfortable, it's the opposite, actually. You feel almost too comfortable. Joel’s eyes are trailing over your face, sometimes highlighted by the flash of the DJ’s lights.

“You talked to Shawn about all that’s botherin’ you and this rough patch?” Joel asks out of nowhere.

He looks vulnerable; unlike the Joel you know who is all smiles and jokes.

“Kinda,” you say shyly, looking over his shoulder. “It’s just hard. . . We can both get pretty defensive. Plus, I wonder if I’m maybe being unfair. He’s in school and everything.”

“Uh huh, and you started that museum job didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Pretty demanding job, ain’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Joel gives you a look as he rocks you both from side to side

“Can I say somethin’ you might not wanna hear?”

You nod.

“In my experience, it takes two people to make a relationship. Not one puttin’ in all the effort while the other one has his or her head in the sand.”

You nod slowly, absorbing his words. The song ends and Joel releases his hands you’re your waist before he announces he has to hit the washroom. You head to the bar for a glass of water and to wait for him.

"Hi beautiful."

An Australian man around Joel's age with a moustache is leaning against the bar next to you. His eyes are bleary and red-rimmed, his cheeks ruddy. He’s obviously very drunk. You give a forced smile before going back to wait for your water.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"No thanks," you answer quickly. "Just getting water."

"How about a dance then?"

"I'm good," you say forcing a polite smile. You’re facing away from him, eyes on the bartender hoping he notices you.

"C'mon beautiful," the man insists, eyes sliding over your chest in a very obvious way. "I'm a good dancer too. Could give you lots of lessons."

"She said no."

Joel's voice is there, having clearly come back from the bathroom. You step backwards and before you know it Joel is sliding his arm protectively around you. You glance up to see Joel's face contorted into a mask of fury. His teeth are bared like some wild animal and he grips you tightly to him.

"Sorry man," The guy says holding his hands up in surrender towards Joel. "Didn't know she was taken."

Joel sneers before leading you out of the club. The cool air is a welcome reprieve when you step outside, breathing deeply.

"That place is nothin' but perverts," Joel growls as the two of you make your way back along the beach in the direction of your unit.

"Joel, you were there," you say giggling. "That make you a pervert?"

"Ha ha."

You walk quietly along the shoreline, confused as to how you can feel this good when just an hour ago it felt like everything was falling apart. Maybe it’s the drink in your veins, maybe its Hawaii, or maybe it’s just Joel.

"Watch it--"

Joel takes your hand when you stumble over a rock in the semi darkness. You let him, not dropping it even when your walking evens out. It feels nice to walk hand in hand with him, it feels safe. He doesn't let go of your hand either as you continue along, your shoes making dual footprints in the sand.

"Thanks for in there," you say. “I hate creepy guys like that.”

"Was nothin'," he says, then he drops your hand after a moment. "Shawn would have done the same."

"No, he wouldn't have."

It slips out before you can stop yourself. Joel stops in the sand, his concern there in his face. It’s clear that what you’ve said has upset him.

"What?"

"He doesn't like confrontation, you know that," you say with a shrug. "And I like that about him."

"You do?" Joel challenges. "Really?"

"Sometimes."

Honestly you’ve never enjoyed the men who start fights for no reason, who act like cavemen when someone looks at their girlfriend. Shawn is too smart for that, too above it to engage with assholes like that. But you have to admit that there was a part of you that found Joel’s actions inside the club to be a bit attractive. Is that the word? Would you really call your boyfriend’s father attractive?

You look at him standing there, his grey t-shirt clinging to his muscles and wide shoulders, the muscular thighs in denim and you think, fuck, yeah he is attractive. You knew he wasn’t ugly, you’d just never looked at him like that. Like he was a man outside of being Shawn’s dad.

"I come from a time when you take care of what's yours." Joel runs a hand through his messy curls. "If you were mine I wouldn't let anyone talk to you the way that man did, let alone touch you."

If you were mine.

You can't understand why but you're nipples tighten under your dress at those words. The possessiveness in Joel's voice is so dark and husky. He’s looking off into the dark like he’s really upset.

"If I was yours," you murmur.

His glazed eyes move from the beach over to your face. You’re standing so close to one another and you can see his chest rising and falling quickly as he breathes. His scotch-coated breath huffs over your cheeks and you swear you’re getting drunker just inhaling it.

You must be, because why else would you be putting your hands on his shoulders. Why else would you be pressing your mouth to his? Why else would you be tracing his plush lips with your tongue and whimpering when he groans into your parted mouth?

And he must be drunk because he doesn’t pull away or hesitate. He dips his head and his hands wrap around your waist, bringing your body against him tightly. His palms slide over your skin, desperate to touch you everywhere as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. You welcome it, going gooey in his arms, allowing him to take what he wants from you.

He’s so fucking broad, so strong, so masculine. You gasp into his mouth when he grips your ass with his big hands, pulling your hips against his, circling them as he kisses you. You feel his hardened cock through the layers of fabric, straining against the zipper of his jeans, desperate to bury itself in your slick heat.

To be desired like this feels powerful. It feels like years since Shawn wanted you like this much. It makes you lean more into Joel, desperate to keep the sensation going. His hands are sliding under your dress, up your silken thigh and you tremble.

A splash sounds nearby in the water, a fish or something startling you both and you simultaneously break apart. You both take a step back from one another in the sand, eyes wide. Joel looks completely crazed.

“The fuck—what are we doin’?” Joel whispers, the regret clear in both your faces.

You bring your trembling hands to your warm cheeks and tears immediately spring to your waterline.

What have you just done?

“Oh my fuck, no no, I don’t – I don’t know why-“

You bend at the waist, hands braced on your knees as you start to hyperventilate. Joel is pacing up and down the sand, his silhouette barely seen in the darkness of night. You can see his feet pacing back and forth. . . back and forth . . . He stops when you let out a hiccup, on the verge of throwing up.

“Honey stop,” Joel says, a hand on your back, rubbing gently along your spine. “Calm down. Calm down, its okay.”

“I don’t know why I did that,” you say, tears streaming down your face and dropping into the sand below. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“S’not your fault,” Joel says, his voice even and calm. It makes you feel calm. And yet, guilt still bubbles up in your lungs, making a small sob escape.

“I have to—you need to—I need to tell Shawn. Right now.”

“Hold on,” Joel says roughly, gripping you by the shoulder and urging you to stand. He peers into your face with a grim expression.

“You cannot tell Shawn anythin’.”

“I have to,” you whine.

“It’ll just hurt him,” Joel insists, nodding and hoping you’ll do the same. “It was a mistake. It was nothing, it was just the booze. We just drank too much and we were all hopped up on that asshole inside the club and we weren’t thinkin’.”

“Right,” you agree, relief sliding through every vein you possess as he lays it out for you. “That’s totally what it was. The drinking. We’re drunk.”

“Completely.”

“Okay. Good.”

You’re still shaken up by what just happened, still tipsy from the drinks. Joel runs an anxious hand through his curls, looking utterly wrecked.

“Let’s go back.”

The two of you walk the rest of the way back in silence. You still cannot believe what you did. You kissed your boyfriend’s father. You kissed him and he kissed you back. Fuck, you both must be utterly wasted. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll both forget it even happened. You would welcome the hangover from hell if it could erase the last fifteen minutes from both your minds for good.

Joel tugs open the sliding glass door, not able to look at you as you both pad towards the opposing doors. You glance over your shoulder to see Joel staring at you as you enter the bedroom where his son sleeps. You give him a sorrowful smile before closing the door.

You crawl under the covers, thankful that Shawn is asleep. You slip off the dress, your hair wild from dancing, your skin sticky with sweat, and your mouth still tasting of scotch. Your cunt flutters at the memory of the noises he made.

You roll onto your side, trying to drift to sleep. Shawn, still half-slumbering snuggles up against your back. His arm slips over your waist and he holds you, as he often holds you back home, gentle and tender and full of love.

“I’m sorry about before, babe,” he murmurs into your hair.

You feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You blink rapidly, closing your eyes and trying to swallow the guilt.

You know that Joel is in his bed right now similarly afflicted, thinking about how he did something so unforgivable and to his own son. Joel is the kindest dad you know; he loves his son more than anything. You know that what you both just did was awful and disgusting.

You also know that there is something deeply wrong with you because as you lay there in Shawn’s arms your pussy floods with memories of his father’s mouth on yours still vivid in your mind.

do you guys want more of this? or should it be a one-shot? also trying a new aesthetic what do we tthink?

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #joel x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x oc #joel the last of us #tlou joel #joel miller x original character #au joel miller #bdf!joel #but the dbf stands for boyfriend's dad #joel miller x you

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