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always-just-red · 2 months ago

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@lunariadew asked: 'Can you write a poly fic maby like a feel good fic or date night or something with all the boys! I’m greedy and I think there’s not enough poly fics as there should be'

Nothing profound this time around! Just some good old-fashioned shenanigans. I've wanted to do a fic with all the boys for SO long (Infold, hire me to write a sitcom-style show for the guys, PLEASE) I've kept it platonic since it's early stages; it's open to interpretation about how many sparks are flying and between whom exactly..... 👀 But if ppl want more of this, I'm all over it. Platonic or romantic? I'll play it by ear!

Game Night

L&DS Boys X Reader

Summary: The most important men in your life can manage one evening together, right? For you? Please? Pretty please?

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional Tags: f!reader, some swearing, a lil conflict, non-canon (I know some of the guys probably know each-other but we're pretending they don't 😇)

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Rafayel… what do you think this is?”

The artist stands at your open door, wearing a self-assured smile and one of the flashier outfits you’ve seen him in, and that’s really saying something. Between you is a bouquet of lilies, petals curled like frozen licks of fire that compliment— deliberately, if you had to guess— the warmer fires within his eyes. Those eyes narrow at your question.

“What do you think it is?” he says suspiciously, lowering the flowers.

“…Game night?”

You’re not sure why you phrase it so tentatively. You know what it is; you’re the host. You open your door wider, stepping aside to give Rafayel a better view of the apartment behind you, and the remainder of his smile sinks.

“Hi,” Xavier calls out, and you don’t have to see him to know he’s giving a wholesome sort of wave.

“Hi…” Rafayel answers, barely more than a whisper as his eyes flit between everyone else in the room, because he’s the last to arrive. “Game night, yeah,” he nods assertively, “I knew that.” Then a deep breath: “Can I, like, put these somewhere—”

“Kitchen counter,” you gesture.

“Got it.” He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Closing the door behind him, you watch as he skirts past the lounge and makes for your kitchen, where another bouquet already lies waiting. He zeroes in on it. “Looks like mine’s not the only heart you’re breaking tonight, huh, cutie? What are these—” he pokes at a petal— “daturas?”

“They’re her favourite,” speaks a distinctly low voice.

Rafayel doesn’t look up. He plonks his bouquet on top of the other and winces: “They’re really not, though.”

“He’s right,” you chip in, giving Sylus a sheepish smile, and now Rafayel looks up, beaming.

“She likes roses,” Zayne says, with the calm confidence he’d quote a medical journal. On the sofa beside him, Xavier nods, and you grin at them both.

“Noted,” Sylus chuckles.

Rafayel’s less convinced. “Since when?!”

“Since forever, Raf. I like lilies too, so I didn’t say anything, ‘kay?” You beckon him back to the lounge, ignoring his splutters of disbelief. “C’mere, let me introduce you to everyone.”

The man slinks to your side like a reluctant shadow, and your hands find your hips. “This is Zayne. Xavier,” you point out, putting faces to names; Rafayel’s heard stories about each. Then you nod towards Sylus. “Over there’s Skye.”

From his place by the window, Sylus lifts a hand in greeting.

“So… yeah,” you finish. Oh, wait! “Guys, this is—”

“They know who I am,” Rafayel shrugs, his fame apparently heavy on his shoulders. He glances around the room for validation, but he gets none, so he tries again. “You do know who I am, right?”

“Sorry,” Xavier admits with an awkward smile, glancing back at Sylus: you?

The man has to think about it. You know for a fact he’s traded more than one of Rafayel’s paintings for a profit, but he smirks and gives an even more exaggerated shrug than the artist himself.

Really?

“You’re Rafayel,” Zayne states plainly.

“Yeah! See, I told you, cutie—”

“You slipped on a paintbrush and checked yourself into Akso, right? The nurses still talk about it.”

Rafayel’s enthusiasm drains. He looks conflicted as he mulls over the additional information. “In, like, a good way?” he hazards.

Zayne stares back at him, wielding silence like a scalpel before cutting deeper with a: “…sure.”

You bite back a smile. Leaving the two to discuss the finer details of Rafayel’s notoriety at the hospital, you wander over to the kitchen, where you fish out a vase from the back of a cupboard. You fill it, set it down on the counter, then reach for Sylus’s bouquet. There’s a black satin ribbon; you untie it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, sweetie?” asks the man himself, joining you discreetly.

The others can’t really hear you— they’re still talking. “What,” you smirk, retrieving your scissors from a drawer, “you worried Xavier’s gonna arrest you?”

Sylus laughs lowly, quietly. “That’s adorable.”

“Good.” You pick up a flower and trim a leaf from the stem. “Because even if he wanted to—” you wave it, just short of his face— “I’d protect you, ok?”

He regards the flower beneath his nose. Smiles smugly. “These can be toxic, sweetie.”

“Really? Whoops.” You put it down, then snatch up a lily from Rafayel’s bouquet. “En Garde!”

“These too.”

“What the hell?”

The flame-red flower drops from your fingers, and Sylus laughs more sincerely. “Stick to roses, kitten. Or…” He moves his hand over his deconstructed bouquet, his Evol pruning the rest of the leaves from the stems. A tendril of it gathers the flowers, delivering them to him so he can hold them out to you with a flourish. “Live dangerously. Who am I to judge?”

You take them, then plop them into the vase. “Cute.”

“I’m here all week,” he grins. “You’d better wash your hands, hmm?”

With a hmph of agreement, you turn to the sink. You spend half a minute, rubbing soap and warm water over your hands, and when you turn back around— still drying them— something is different. The lilies are gone. Sylus is looking at you, innocuous.

“Real mature, Skye.”

He makes no effort to defend himself. You’re about to tell him that his magic better extend to making flowers reappear when your attention is whipped back to the lounge. The voices from that side have raised, so you lean forward on your kitchen island, watching their owners in a sort of stakeout.

“I take it you have a plan,” Sylus whispers, leaning with you.

You look at him. He looks back. “The plan is for hosts,” you scold, “not guests.” He’s much too close so you step away, reaching for the vase of daturas and holding them threateningly out, like you’re not afraid to use them. “Go back to the guests, deserter.”

Sylus lifts his hands in surrender, smirking in a way that says he knows he’s met his match. You shoo him further, back into enemy lines, then resume your stakeout. Xavier is sharing his own “embarrassing” medical story— talking about a time where he once passed out from exhaustion while fighting at your side, and you think it’s supposed to make Rafayel feel better.

It doesn’t, of course, and even Zayne is gazing down at the floor, self-conscious.

Sylus meets your eyes across the room, signals with a tip of his head: now's a good time for that master plan, sweetie.

Right. Your plan. Your master plan, yeah.

…

“You should have picked the doctor.”

Sylus’s words are near-silent: for you, not anyone else, and you pretend you don’t hear them. “But no,” he carries on, because he knows you can, “you just had to have the artist.”

“It’s Pictionary!” you snap, drawing all eyes in the room.

Lounging beside you, Sylus feigns an amused surprise, as though he hasn’t just been trying to elicit that exact reaction. On the other sofa, Zayne and Xavier stare, taken more genuinely aback. You give a smile of apology.

“Guys, concentrate!” Rafayel clicks his fingers at you. He’s stood in the centre of the space by a large drawing pad, and he goes back to frantically sketching on it. The drawing is… interesting. Abstract. Maybe even beautiful? But you don’t have a clue what it is.

“Thirty seconds,” warns Zayne, studying the little egg-timer he’s guarding.

You tilt your head at the drawing. There’s maybe a— wait, where did those extra colours come from? Where did he even get those pens? Anyway… there’s a circle. “A globe?” you guess. “Earth! No? Umm… oh! The sun! The moon!”

Rafayel shakes his head with every suggestion, adding even more intricate, unhelpful scribbles. Is that a fifth pen?! You nudge your other teammate, calling for back-up.

Sylus regards the drawing listlessly. “A unicorn.”

“What?!” Rafayel’s tone has reached a pitch that almost makes you wince. “No! C’mon, are you even trying?”

“No,” Sylus lilts with a pleasant smile, lifting the drink he’s been nursing to his lips.

You kick his foot. “A bowl of fruit!” you exclaim, determined to make up for the lack of enthusiasm. “A plate? A plate with food? Breakfast! Lunch! Dinner!”

“Time’s up,” Zayne interrupts, and it’s a mercy, really; you deflate with a sigh.

Rafayel puts his hands on his hips as he takes a step back to observe his work. He tucks four fine-liners back into his pocket— purses his lips as though he really can’t see a problem— and he’s keeping you all in suspense.

Sylus is up in an instant, stealing a card from where it’s been discarded on the coffee table. He reads the answer, then rolls his eyes. The original pen was also abandoned, so he plucks it up, then strides to the drawing pad.

He draws an oval. Then a triangle.

“A fish! A fish!” you cry out.

“You’re good at this, sweetie,” Sylus grins. He puts the lid on the pen with a click before dropping it into Rafayel’s hand.

“Is it my turn?” Xavier asks, trying to relieve the tension of the room. He gets up and smiles as Rafayel passes him the pen. “Your drawing is pretty. The composition is really—”

“Don’t,” Rafayel says. “Like, thanks? But don’t.”

“Fair enough,” Xavier chuckles.

You all prepare for the next round: Zayne handing you the egg-timer, Xavier re-organising the stack of prompt cards. Sylus takes a photo of the drawing pad before ambling back over— a moping Rafayel in tow— and they both sink down either side of you. You glance at the latter, giggling. “A fish, Raf? Really?”

“So I didn’t just wanna draw you some basic fish, ok?” The artist crosses his arms with a pout. “But fine, enjoy mediocrity, I guess.”

To your left, Sylus raises his glass in toast to the notion. There’s a noise: Xavier tearing the used page from the pad. You look up. “Xavier, can I have that?”

“Sure.” He brings it over to you.

You look at the drawing again, holding it at arm’s length and rotating it experimentally. You’re seeing a lot, but nothing that screams ‘fish’. There’s a circle, still. Oh! “It’s a fish bowl! Wait, wait, wait— is that Reddie?”

“Yeah!” Rafayel beams.

“Aww!”

The renewed team spirit drops off with Sylus; he’s on his phone, not paying attention. He seems to sense your scrutiny because he peers up, gives a ghost of a smile, then returns to whatever he’s doing. Meanwhile, Xavier is ready for his turn, so he signals for you to start the timer. You give him a thumbs up as you turn it over. “Go!”

He starts drawing.

“A car,” Zayne guesses after all of five seconds. Correct. Next. “A river? No. Oh. A snake.” Yes. “A cupcake?” Also yes. (In fairness, he was never going to struggle with that one.) “A person? Ok. Oh, a scientist, no? Ah, a doctor.” Yes again, and really— what?

Zayne continues to list correct answers, though thankfully, that’s the last of the coincidences. You watch on, vaguely in awe, until you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You check it casually, aware that Sylus is next to you, looking down at it too.

It’s a text from him: The drawing… Can I have it?

You glance up at him subtly, meeting his eyes and giving a discreet yet firm shake of your head. He frowns. You’re not having this debate here, now, so you let your gaze return to the drawing pad while idly retrieving your drink.

A few seconds later, there’s another text: Found buyer

Then another: Quarter of a mil

You almost choke on that drink.

“Umm… cutie?” Rafayel asks, poking you. He points at the timer you’ve left on the coffee table, and the top half is empty.

“Shit, yeah. That’s time!” you call.

Xavier stops drawing. The small, crude sketches behind him have reached double digits. He looks really proud. “Great! How many was that?”

His eyes find you. Zayne and Rafayel’s, too. Were you supposed to be counting? Uh—

“Eleven,” says Sylus, and it’s way too smug to be a lie.

“Awesome!” Xavier flips the drawing pad over to where you’ve been tallying point totals. He adds eleven marks to one side. “That’s—” he counts both— “ah, thirty-three to nine.”

A silence falls over the room. Unsure of what else to do, you give a half-hearted round of applause and Xavier laughs awkwardly, still humble, despite it all. “I think we’re kinda done with Pictionary, yeah?” you suggest, rising from your seat. “I should probably get started on food, anyway.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”

The insistence came from Xavier, and you freeze suspiciously; he’s never turned down free food.

“You’ve already done so much,” he explains, “setting this all up for us. You should relax, really! Leave it to me.”

The word ‘relax’ is not synonymous with the image of Xavier anywhere near your kitchen, but he’s looking at you so earnestly, blue eyes brimming with warmth, and what are you supposed to say? No thanks, Xavier— I value my life? Everyone’s watching you. Gods help you. “That’s really sweet, Xavier. Thanks.”

Your fellow Hunter’s smile widens even more. He heads off to the kitchen, a spring to his step that makes your heart sink with dread. “Actually—” you glance at your ex-teammates— “could you two go help him? Zayne and I’ll tidy up over here.”

Rafayel and Sylus do as they’re asked, even though their expressions remind you that cooking is not, typically, a three-man job. It’s tactical, though. You wanted a moment alone with Zayne. “Are you ok?” you ask, once the others are out of earshot. “I know this must all be a lot. The guys can be, well… yeah.”

He knows what you mean, right?

Zayne has slipped away from the couch; he’s crouched on the floor, collecting a few prompt cards that have wandered astray. He glances up at you, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “I’m ok,” he assures with a fond smile. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome.” He hands you the cards and you slot them back into their deck. Then you turn to the drawing pad. “You and Xavier make a good team, huh?”

The doctor straightens to his full height. “Mmm. It helped that we didn’t spend the entire game comparing the size of our… drawing abilities.”

You laugh unashamedly. The pen’s still at-hand, so you pick it up— reward another point.

Zayne chuckles.

“Food’s gonna be a while.”

You both turn, following the voice back to Sylus, who has apparently decided he’s had his fill of kitchen duty. What was that— a minute? He seems to have anticipated your dissatisfaction, because he’s brought a bribe with him: the box of chocolates that had come with his bouquet. It’s already open and he holds it out, tempting you.

He’s right— you don’t know when you’ll next be eating— so you select a heart-shaped chocolate, popping it into your mouth with a smile and a muffled: “thanks.”

Sylus smiles back. Then he holds the box out to Zayne. “Doctor?”

It takes a nod of encouragement from you to prompt Zayne into taking something. He chooses a white chocolate truffle, mumbles his own thanks, but Sylus doesn’t relent— not yet. He shakes the box slightly, incitingly, and he doesn’t move it away until Zayne takes two more.

Your physician shoots you a surreptitious smile as Sylus falls back onto the couch, content he’s won your hearts, and that he won’t be sent back to the kitchen anytime soon. His long fingers lift another chocolate from the box, and he meets your eyes as he slips it slowly past his lips, humming like he’s enjoying himself.

You cross your arms, unimpressed. He gives you the least convincing look of innocence you’ve ever seen.

There’s an exclamation from the kitchen: “Hey, where did my flowers go!?”

Shit. You hastily push the drawing pad aside then scurry over to assist Rafayel. You don’t have a plan, exactly; it’s not like you can help him look for them. “Umm… they’re around, Raf. I moved them somewhere safer, that’s all.”

“Where?”

“Uh—”

“Does it matter?” Sylus speaks from behind you, because he and Zayne are close at your heels. “She said they’re somewhere safe.” He leans on the kitchen island. “Don’t you trust her?”

Rafayel scoffs. “I trust her plenty.”

“So prove it. Drop it.”

“Skye,” you caution, “stop.”

Sylus does stop, but not because you asked. He’s done enough already, hasn’t he? Rafayel is bristling with indignance— a lit fuse— and behind him, Xavier sneakily checks the trash can, looking relieved at what he doesn’t find. He gives you a subtle glance: Where actually are the flowers?

You lift a shoulder an inch: Beats me!

There’s a soft, almost imperceptible crackle, and it draws your eyes to the vase of daturas between you all. They’ve caught light— their petals twisting, darkening, within larger flowers of fire.

“Rafayel!” you gasp. “No, no, no, the fire alarm!”

The torched flowers are encased, all of a sudden, in a fine layer of shimmering frost. Sylus blinks down at them, unmoved by their destruction. Zayne’s hand is still outstretched, snowflakes etched over his palm. Then something… odd happens. The ice doesn’t stop. It spreads over the rest of the kitchen island, to all of your bewilderment.

“Zayne?” Your voice is fraught with worry, but you don’t give a damn about your kitchen.

The man winces, and you so rarely see him out of control. The silver-white patterns have crawled up his wrist, and the ice continues to spread; even Sylus steps back. Sharp, jagged crystals start to form— inching out towards everyone.

“Zayne!” you try again.

His chest rises as he drags air through his teeth; it looks like it hurts, but the ice does stop. The others are still, suspended by momentary uncertainty, and you rush to Zayne’s side, taking his hand.

“What the hell was that?” Rafayel remarks, shaking away his surprise and thawing an icicle that’s way too close for comfort.

“He wouldn’t have needed to use his Evol if you hadn’t used yours.”

It’s Xavier, strangely— you would have expected Sylus. The Hunter’s tone is gentle as always, but there’s something behind it, this time: a frustration that lends an edge.

Rafayel hears it too. “Hey, I’m not the one who started this!” He points to Sylus. “He—”

“Has been lighting fires all evening,” Xavier finishes. “But at least his were only figurative.”

Sylus laughs, and it’s the kind of laugh where you just know he’s vying to make things worse. “Look at that,” he says, “the boy next door can bite.”

Xavier’s eyes sharpen. Beside you, Zayne slips his hand from yours. It’s an instinct you know well. This moment is volatile, and you have to be ready. It could go a dozen different ways; it’s just waiting for a spark.

“Guys,” you manage to get out, “please, just… everyone, take a breath, ok? Everything’s fine, we just have to—”

A spark.

There’s smoke. Actual smoke. “Xavier, behind you!” Zayne alerts.

It’s creeping out of the oven and Xavier turns— eyes wide— to open its door before any of you can stop him. Thicker smoke billows out, filling the air, and you all scramble away from it. The fire alarm triggers. You think Rafayel’s shouting something, but you can’t really hear him. Then Sylus is shouting. Maybe even Zayne. The alarm is piercing your ears and making you dizzy— or is it the smoke?

You feel a hand on your shoulder and suddenly everything changes.

There’s cool air, brushing over your skin, and it’s dark; you’re outside the building. You can still hear the alarm, shrill but further away, and your window is easy to spot: there’s a red light flashing behind it. Sylus leans into your vision, saying your name.

“Stay here,” he tells you, “alright?”

He’s gone in another moment, lost to a flicker of crimson-black darkness.

Gods, you’re so stupid.

…

You sit on a short wall outside of your building, and the street is full of people. You recognise most of them: neighbours. Every single one is mad at you. You’re all waiting for the alarm to cut out— for the all-clear to be given. The fire wasn’t that serious in the end, but there’s still a procedure. You would know; this isn’t exactly your first evacuation.

The guys are safe, which is good, because it means you can kill them later. They’ve all gotten lost in the throng, and your neighbours can keep them. Maybe they’ll kill them for you.

“Hey, cutie.”

You were staring down at your feet, but you look up at Rafayel’s voice. He’s coming towards you, evoking a sense of déjà vu, because he’s clutching a bouquet of flame lilies. That’s… the bouquet of flame lilies. How?

“Skye gave ‘em back to me,” he explains, chuckling at your expression, and he’s close enough now to hold the flowers out to you. “I don’t know where he was keeping them. His Evol’s weird, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say timidly, taking the bouquet and gazing down into the petals; they still smell sweet.

Rafayel sits next to you, shuffling close, and he leans his head on your shoulder with a tired sigh. You want to be mad at him. You really, really do— but you’re suddenly not.

“I’m sorry, Rafayel.” The admission barely makes it out of your throat.

You feel his head lift. “You’re sorry?”

“I know it was just a misunderstanding,” you speak into the flowers, “but tonight… wasn’t what you were expecting, I get it. I mean, I kinda threw you into the deep end with all this. You didn’t know you were gonna be around other people, and I—”

“Whoa— cut that out, yeah? You’re killing me, cutie. I spend the whole evening causing trouble, and you’re gonna take all the blame? Nope. Not happening. It was a collaborative effort at least, ok?”

You giggle. “Ok.”

“Good.” His head slumps back down on your shoulder, and yours tilts to rest against it. “Thanks, though. Really,” he whispers, so quiet you almost don’t notice.

Footsteps and familiar voices draw you from the intimacy of the moment. The others are wandering back to you, having finally escaped the veritable mob of your neighbours. They all look tired.

Xavier settles down on the other side of you, and Zayne sits beside him. Sylus takes a seat next to Rafayel with a huff, but he’s not half as unhappy as he’s pretending to be.

All of you sit in silence, gazes flitting between your window— where there are still glimpses of moving figures— and everyone else who’s been evacuated. For the first time all evening, the quiet isn’t tense. It’s peaceful. Easy.

“We’ll do better next time,” Zayne speaks softly.

Next time? You scoff. “Do any of you actually want there to be a next time?”

“I had fun,” Sylus chuckles. He’s taken his coin from his pocket, and he flips it, amusing himself.

“I had fun too,” Xavier grins.

“Cooking again, Xavier?” quips one of your neighbours, as they happen to pass by.

The man beside you laughs, but you can tell it’s forced. Your hand finds his; you give it a little squeeze, letting him know that it wasn’t his fault. His heart was in the right place. It’s always in the right place.

You nudge Rafayel away from you so you can sit up straighter, your free hand rubbing your arm, caressing prickled skin. You’re about to ask for a jacket when something heavy drapes over your shoulders. It’s a coat— still warm— and its owner is stood behind you; you didn’t even notice him get up.

“Thanks, Sylus,” you smile.

All eyes turn to you. What are they—?

Oh.

#🖋rach is actually writing #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads x mc #shen xinghui #li shen #qi yu #qin che #lads #lnds #l&ds

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jinwoosbabyboo · 5 months ago

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“Will You Marry Me?"

How I imagine LADS Men would propose. This is part 2 of 2. I tried to do the sweet elegant writing, but that ain't me so here you go....

Xavier

Our lover boy Xavier is a literal prince. I feel as though he'd be very traditional with his proposal. The only unfortunate part is he can't ask for your fathers/family blessing because you know .... Anyway :)

He would definitely court you for a week even if you’ve already been together for over a year. The day of his proposal he would take you to a spot only he knows that has zero light pollution. Of course it’s deep in the forest.

MC: If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re trying to kill me and hide my body Xavier: You have such creative thoughts MC: Seriously where are we going? Xavier: Somewhere special MC: So mysterious even after a year of dating

He’d bring you to a clearing that seemed like it was being lit up by a spotlight. It’s not though he chose to propose on a night with a full moon and clear skies so you could see how beautiful the stars are without all the city lights.

MC: It’s otherworldly Xavier: This was my favorite place to come when I needed clarity MC: Why didn’t you show me sooner? Xavier: I wanted to save it for a special day MC: oh what are you going to propose or something?

You’d be laughing and boom he pulls a ring out of his pocket shutting you right up.

MC: Oh shit! You’re really proposing Xavier: Yes im really proposing

His speech is so sweet it could give you cavities not only would he emphasize how much he loves you he’d let you know just how much he is solely yours. Even if you were to one day forget him and how much he loves you he would still always be yours and would do anything to keep you safe & most of all happy.

Xavier: My lady will you marry me? MC: I want nothing more

He might’ve been sweet and soft spoken during his proposal but that shy boy facade went out the window when you two got back home.

Sylus

It’s canon that Sylus gets nervous when he wants to ask you out. So just imagine how nervous he is getting ready to propose! He already constantly gifts you pretty gems and the gifts just keep increasing over the course of 3 months.

He second guesses himself thinking you may say no so he keeps putting it off but continues to shower you in gifts, quality time, full body massages, shopping sprees, dinner dates, lunch dates, you name it he’s doing it, you want it he got it. He’d be spoiling you so much you’d have to sit him down and ask him what’s going on. He would dismiss your concerns of course.

MC: Are you guys leaving for a while? Kieran: Why do you ask? MC: Sylus has been acting weird I feel like he’s about to disappear again Luke: That was one time and boss only did that because you asked him to leave you alone MC: I know but I’m worried now Luke: Relax miss hunter you’re overthinking

The twins would indeed gaslight you while Sylus worked up the nerve to propose. When he finally has the nerve to do it he goes all out. I’m talking he'd rent out the most exquisite restaurant money can buy. A whole staff at your beck and call. He'd wine and dine you with delicious food and expensive wine. By the time dessert comes you'd want answers.

MC: You're leaving me aren't you Sylus: Jumping to conclusions are we? MC: I'm serious Sylus you haven't been yourself lately you're worrying me Sylus: I guess this is the part where I explain myself

With two snaps of his fingers the twins would rush out; Kieran placing a giant box bouquet of red roses in your arms and Luke placing a crown on your head before rushing out leaving the two of you alone.

MC: What's this? and what am I a Princess? Sylus: You are and I'd love to change your title to Queen MC: Stop are you....

I don't picture Sylus giving a long winded speech. I feel like he would be the type to write it down so you could cherish his words forever.

Sylus: Will you marry me Miss Hunter? You can say no if- MC: Of course I'll marry you

Yet again I'm tackling this man as soon as he slips that ring on. Need to be in his arms immediately. Expeditiously.

Zayne & Rafayel here…

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads xavier #lnds xavier #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #nikaaaaimagine

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undreaming-fanfiction · 10 months ago

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My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?

Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.

Steve is there to fix that.

One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.

He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.

He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.

Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?

And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").

And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"

"Eddie."

Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"

They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.

They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:

"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"

"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."

"What about a funeral?"

"It puts fun in a funeral."

"Touché."

They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."

And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.

They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.

And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."

Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."

...

Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.

Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:

STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?

EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!

STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.

EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!

And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.

But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.

"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."

Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.

Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"

Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.

The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.

Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.

No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").

Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.

The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.

Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.

But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.

The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...

Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...

"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.

There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.

And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"

The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.

"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"

Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.

"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."

Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"

Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"

"You already paid me, Eddie."

"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."

"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."

"I'm listening."

Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"

And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.

"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."

It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.

Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.

They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."

And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie drabble #stranger things drabble #steddie au #steddie fanfiction #dustin henderson #lotr steddie #ish #lord of the rings steddie #not proofread we die like Boromir MY BOY #ahem this got long #Steve the redorkifier Harrington #Eddie the reemerging dork Munson

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nerdlvr · 17 days ago

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✩ blindfold & binds

(MDNI)

smut , jisung x reader , sub jisung , blindfolds and binds (on jisung) , male masturbation i guess... , ji's completely naked and reader is NOT , teasing , mocking , dom-ish reader , requested here !

"ji-"

he shivered as he felt your breath against his ear, goosebumps forming on his soft skin,

"y/n can you-" he tensed at your light touch against his stomach, fingers dancing along the small patch of hair,

"can i what?"

his eyes were squeezed shut beneath the blindfold, arms stretched uncomfortably behind his back.

you watched as his hips rutted up into the air, tip leaking desperately, "please- touch me."

your teasing giggle made him whine, fingers fidgeting with the silk that bound his hands together.

you ran the tip of your finger along his length, tracing his pulsing vein. his toes curled against the soft material of your carpet, head thrown back in a silent whine.

"want me to touch you here?"

your fingertips grazed the head of his length, rubbing his slick along the flushed tip. you stopped your movements, instead pressing your thumb against his leaking hole, "answer me ji."

he drew his hips away from you hand, panting loudly as you chased after his length, thumb rubbing harshly against his tip.

"ah- ah, i'm gonna cum please."

you let go of his length watching as his chest fell and rose quickly, his cock throbbing against his stomach.

he felt you move off the bed, your footsteps echoing somewhere in the room, "wh-where are you?"

you bit your lip to hide your smile, not like he could see you mocking him anyways, as he squirmed against the bed, hands struggling against his binds.

"right here ji- don't worry."

your sweet voice made his stomach feel warm, cheeks flushing as his arousal only grew, "feel like i'm dying over here- please come ba-"

his last word came out choked as your soft moan resonated throughout the room, filling his ears.

"are-are you?"

"feels- feels so good ji."

your moans grew from your side of your room, whiny sounds exaggerated for jisung's pleasure.

"please don't do this to me- y/n- please."

he fidgeted in his seat, moving his face down to rub against his shoulder, the blindfold slipping from eyes.

his eyes scanned your body, fully clothed and standing, your gaze harsh, "who said you can take the blindfold off?"

you strode towards him, his eyes locking with yours, glossy with worry, "i-i'm sorry- i thought-"

you reached your hands towards his face, cupping his flushed cheeks, "my pretty boy, look at you-" his length twitched at your words, a hiss leaving his lips as his tip rubbed against his stomach.

"so pretty- yet so dumb." he whined as you patted his cheek gently, "i didn't teach you how to listen hm?"

his eyes watered as he looked up at you, "i'm sorry-"

you couldn't help but smile at the desperation on his face, pretty eyes sparkling against the dim light, "don't worry baby- you will be."

#nerdlvr #request #nct #nct dream #nct imagines #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream imagine #nct dream imagines #jisung #park jisung smut #jisung imagines #nct jisung #jisung smut #park jisung imagines

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kichiyosh1 · 8 months ago

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An eternity with you: I'll choose you time and time again

Wanderer x fem!reader

You always seem to find your way back to him. What a troublesome being you are. Fortunately for you, he wouldn't be able to stop you either way. You're the one he chose, after all.

Crazy plot twist that will leave you baffled🫨(but i think i made way to obvious lol)

"What's that?"

You always noticed the charm wanderer had next to his Anemo Vision. It was in the shape of a Sumeru rose, a vibrant chrysalis purple that, when caught in the light, would shine like the glowing bioluminescent beaches of Tatarasuna.

"Someone... gave it to me." For a moment, you could see the nostalgic expression on his face as he caressed the precious gem. It's an emotion so rare for him to display that you're unsure if you should be amazed by this new expression or perhaps a bit uneasy. It's rare for anything to capture the wanderer's attention, and if you were to assume how much that charm meant to him then

"This someone must be special," you subconsciously averted your gaze, but the wanderer was quick to pick up on it. He adorned a sly smirk on his face before it quickly turned to one of amusement. He let out a small chuckle before his eyes began to soften.

You sure like to poke around in my past, don't you?" He sighed, unsure where to start from there, but he's determined to convey his feelings.

"This person showed me the true meaning of eternity, something my creator was always so obsessed with. She was able to give it meaning to me with just her simple existence. It'd be an understatement if I wasn't just a little bit fond of this person."

You regretted asking. The look of bliss and admiration on his face made you feel like the most insignificant thing in the world right now, next to his special someone.

"Where is this person? Is she still around? Are you searching for her?"

"I'm... not exactly actively seeking her out right now."

"Do you keep the charm to remember her?" at that he simply looked to the side, a sheepish expression on his face before he went back to neutral.

"I've never forgotten her. She was the one who forgot me. We've crossed paths but she has no memory of me. She can't even recall the time she gifted me this charm."

He said it with such a casual tone that it left you feeling appalled.

How could she?!

You no longer regretted asking, only feeling indignation for what he's suffered through.

"Wanderer..." you put both hands on his shoulders, startling him in the process. You were too caught up in the moment to even notice the creeping tint of red on his face.

"What are you—"

"Please forget about her!"

"Wait I—"

"You deserve better! Deep down inside, actually maybe we need to dig down reaaaally deep but I know it's there! Someone like you deserves to find your own happiness! So please!"

Tears were gathering at the rim of your eyes, and you couldn't tell if they were from wanderer's sad, tragic love story or from the fear that if you didn't succeed in persuading him to move on, there wouldn't be any place for you in his heart.

The wanderer was baffled; he didn't expect this much of a reaction from you. It made his chest clench with that same feeling she always gave him—the same feeling you always gave him.

He composed himself, awkwardly patting you on the back in a way to comfort you. "It's not that big of a deal you know. It's not like the story ended there." you just kept on adding pages

"Well, guess what." You didn't give him time to think before you started tugging him by his arm.

"We're going somewhere to get your mind off her. Oh, and we'll need to get rid of that charm. That way, you won't think of her anymore."

Unbeknownst to you, you were the one that gave it to him.

"I don't think that's necessary," he says, but he's smiling. Your worried and determined attitude made it clear that you cared about him, and he couldn't be any more grateful.

"Nonsense, I'll buy you a gazillion way better charms, so you can forget about this one." You glared and pointed at the item like it was the bane of your existence.

"If you're that insistent, then I want it handmade." His hands, though he's done this many times before in the past, trembled slightly when he properly grasped your hand in his.

"Alright." You grinned and he looked fondly at you in return

It was amusing how you got so worked up about, well, yourself. But at the end of the day, it's still you, isn't it? It will always be you, you, you.

"I'm more than content that you're still by my side."

Before he erased himself from Irminsul, he never would have thought he deserved a happy ending with you. Fate had a funny way of leading people on, and he was led like a moth to a flame. Maybe an eternity with you wouldn't be so bad. No, he didn't mind, as long as it was you he'd be spending it with.

His precious sumeru rose.

─⁠──⁠──⁠──⁠─

"Heh, you always have a peculiar way of coming into my life."

"Is this about how I sneaked into the academia?"

"Mhm, don't worry. I'll make sure to leave the door wide open for you next time."

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #inspired by one of the character's stories in LDS #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche

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hoffmansgirl · 1 month ago

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❛ 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐄 ❜ 𝐍𝐀𝐂 𝜗𝜚

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. nicholas chavez x shy!actress!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. christmas time seems to be the perfect opportunity for confessions, questions and... gifting presents. ⇄ ⟡⟡ 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨: mistletoe — justin bieber 𓍯

𝐚/𝐧. a short, christmas-y, extra fluffy fic for y'all! i hope you have the best christmas ever (nicholas, i'm waiting for you to appear under my christmas tree) !!! ꨄ︎

The December air felt cold on your skin as you stood on the first step leading to your trailer, a warm cup of tea in your hands — it somehow managed to heat you up. A familiar scent of orange and ginger filled your nostrils as you brought the cup to your lips, taking a lingering sip, careful not to burn your tongue in the process. Your cheeks were brightly flushed as you watched the snow-covered roofs, pavement and some surrounding trees — some snowflakes landed on your hands, and you studied them carefully, small smile playing on your lips as you watched them melt on your skin. It was already getting dark, yet the whiteness of the snow seemed to light up the set on its own.

"Enjoying yourself?", you heard a teasing voice from somewhere behind you, and you couldn't help the smile that crept up onto your face. You muffled a laugh with a bite of your lip as you slowly turned towards him, wrapping your free arm around you in order to warm yourself up.

"Yeah. It's beautiful. Haven't seen snow in years", you admitted, studying Nicholas' face as he stood just a feet away from you, his puffer jacket wrapped tightly around his upper body, cheeks cutely flushed from the cold air. A newfound warmth enveloped you as you watched him, his brown eyes glimmering as he stared back at you. Snowflakes landed on his hair, melting immediately, adding to the — rather rare — boyish look of him.

"Really?", he questioned, stepping closer, until he was right next to you, his eyes following your own as you stared at the sky. You simply nodded, taking a sip of your, now cool, tea to cover up your sudden fluster. "You don't really seem excited about Christmas, though".

There was a hint of softness and curiosity in his voice as he casually leaned back against the trailer.

"Well, I never really got to... really experience it", you muttered, dropping your gaze to the ground — your leg warmers suddenly becoming very interesting. "The fact that we get to spend Christmas here, on set, is kind of comforting — well, to me. I guess you'd rather be anywhere else", you chuckled, sending Nicholas a glare, noticing that he was already looking at you. When he met your gaze, soft smile appeared on his lips, his eyes staring back at you with an intensity and quiet adoration.

"Actually, no", he retorted, and your eyebrows rose up in pure surprise. You tilted your head, hiding your face in the fluffy fur coat adoring your form, waiting for him to continue. "I mean, we are family now. Whether we like it or not", Nicholas nudged your side teasingly, winking at you, causing a quiet, muffled laughter to escape your throat. "It's nice to be somewhere different, just for once. And also, you're here. My favourite costar in the world".

You shook your head, although you could feel the heat building up in your stomach at his words. The cold, December air didn't feel so depressing and suffocating anymore.

"You're so sweet", you chuckled, pouting your glossy lips, watching as Nicholas' eyes followed the movement. A sudden shiver run down your spine, and your body shook lightly. Nicholas straightened his posture, a hint of nervousness in his movements as he offered you a hand.

"Come with me?", he asked softly, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that left no room to protest. You nodded, feeling your heart thudding in your chest.

A spark of excitement run down your spine as you grabbed Nicholas' awaiting — and, surprisingly warm — hand, his fingers intertwining with yours; the gesture so natural it felt as if he has already done it multiple times. His thumb brushed against your knuckles as he led you to his trailer that was just across from your own. Snowflakes landed on your entwined hands, and you couldn't seem to look away, blinking rapidly, as if to make sure the moment was real.

The air inside the trailer was hot, fogging up your glasses the second you walked in. You let Nicholas' hand guide you as the squeaky door slammed shut behind the two of you, nothing but comfortable silence filling the air.

You set the, now cold, tea cup on the wooden table by the door, moving to take off your furry jacket — it felt almost suffocating, now, in the quietness of Nicholas' trailer. You quickly cleaned your glasses, oblivious to the man's eyes on you as you did so.

"I like your glasses", he commented casually, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the coatrack by the door. "You look pretty".

You chuckled, your cheeks somehow becoming even hotter, now — your gaze falling to the floor as you fixed the gold rims on your nose, unsure how to reply.

Nicholas cleared his throat, his hands behind his back as he figured what to say next.

"So... I actually got you something", he said, and your eyes shot up in surprise. There was a hint of visible nervousness on Nicholas' face as he fidgeted with his fingers, soft blush covering his skin.

"Nick...", you started, feeling your heart flutter in your chest — affection mixed with adoration making it hard to breathe. "I— You didn't have to".

His eyes met yours, soft smile playing on his lips, and you thought you'd never seen him that flustered before. Cute.

"I know, but I wanted to. I want... I just want to make this Christmas special for you", he laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair, before turning away to grab a little box from one of the drawers. Your breath hitched as he got closer to you, his presence intimidating but not overwhelming — the warmth of his body surprisingly soothing your mind and wrecked nerves.

The tiny, shammy box caught your attention, and you were sure Nicholas could hear your loud heartbeat in the silence of the room.

"Ever since I first saw you, I just knew you're special. You seemed to light up the room the second you first walked in — and I thought, oh my God, she's so beautiful", he started, meeting your eyes that began to well up with tears the longer he talked. "I figured Christmas time would be perfect to ask you this. Uh, I know we don't know each other for long, but... I can't wait any longer. Would you want to be my girlfriend?".

Your lower lip quivered as you watched his worried expression, not an ounce of confidence in the way he spoke — which was a surprising contrast to his usual self. You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding, reaching for Nicholas' hand. His gaze met yours, soft and gentle, your cheeks lightly flushed as you run your thumb over his palm, soothing his nerves, watching as a small smile made its way onto his face.

"You don't have to reply right away. I know it might...".

"Stop it, Nicholas. Of course— of course I want to be your girlfriend. God, I wanted this ever since I first met you", you jumped in, squeezing his hand assuredly, a wide grin making its way onto your face.

Nicholas exhaled loudly, his shoulders, visibly relieved with your reply.

"I wanted to make it perfect. So I got you something. It's not much, but...", he shrugged, lifting the little box and opening it right away.

A glimmering, heart-shaped centre stone framed by a halo of small, sparkling stones caught your eye immediately, your breath hitching at its beauty. The band was sleek, adorned with additional small stones.

"Nicholas, this is...", your words got caught in your throat as you stared at the gorgeous ring that seemed to catch the light every time Nicholas' hand shook slightly. "It's beautiful. I...".

"Don't say anything. Just, let me", he chuckled, taking the ring out of the box softly before taking your hand in his, slipping it on your ring finger.

"Thank you. Thank you so much, Nick", you whispered, lifting your hand to your eyes to take a better look at the glimmering stone. "You didn't have to".

"I wanted to. Do you like it?".

You felt bad when you heard the hesitation in his voice, almost as if he was scared of your reaction. You lifted your gaze, sending him the warmest smile before stepping on your tiptoes to hug him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your face pressing against his chest as you breathed in his intoxicating smell — you felt his body relax against yours, his hands resting on your lower back, his face hidden in your hair.

"Do I like it? I love it. This is the best gift I've ever gotten— I can't thank you enough".

You felt him smile into your hair, breathing in the smell of your shampoo heavily. "Everything for you. I have liked you for a while now, y'know? I just didn't know how to approach it", he whispered softly, pulling away just slightly to catch your face in his hands.

His touch felt soft on your burning skin, not helping with stopping the flames of excitement that licked your insides. Your face heated up as your eyes locked, his face now closer than ever — except for the few times you filmed a steamy scene together. This time, though, it was raw, the passion between you melting into words that couldn't quite be addressed out loud just yet.

"Look", Nicholas ordered softly, gently lifting your face to make you look up.

There it was — on a hook, protruding from the ceiling, hanging just above Nicholas' head — a mistletoe. It was decorated with a light pink bow, adding to the charm of the little moment between the two of you.

"You planned this", you laughed slightly, and Nicholas grinned, shrugging as if it was nothing.

"Wanted to make sure this moment was perfect. You're the woman of my dreams, Y/N. I've wanted to do this the exact moment I first saw you".

With that, he leaned down, his hands gently guiding your face until his lips met yours. It was as if fireworks erupted around you, making your whole body surrender to the soft touch Nicholas offered you.

Your hands tightened on his shoulders as he brought you closer, lifting you from the ground, his arms keeping you from falling down onto the floor. Your lips worked together, softly and deliberately, as if you had the whole time in the world.

"Merry Christmas, girlfriend", Nicholas whispered against your lips, his hot breath tickling your cheek in the process. You grinned, your eyes falling open at his words.

"Merry Christmas, boyfriend".

tags (click here to be added): @darlingnikkisixxxx @titsout4jackles @brlwla @blackynsupremacy @mrs-riddlexo @essentialwriter @nicholaschavezslut69 @niteskysx @emluvsuxo @nicholaslut @greengoblinswifey @sin-deciric @onlyangelicc @urlitttlevenicebitch

#nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas alexander chavez #charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew smut #charlie mayhew x reader #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #father charlie mayhew #father charlie smut #father charlie grotesquerie #father charlie mayhew smut #father charlie mayhew x reader #father charlie x reader #nicholas alexander chavez smut #doctor charlie mayhew smut #doctor charlie mayhew x reader #doctor charlie mayhew #doctor charlie

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thewertsearch · 24 days ago

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@krixwell asked: I think it's general theory summary o'clock. Broadly, what are your expectations for the rest of Act 5 and its ending?

I'm a little late answering this one - but hey, better late than never!

I can't predict the rest of the Act anymore, but I can try and predict the ending. Here are my predictions for what'll happen in Cascade, organized by character.

Rose & Dave

The Derse twins, who have dispatched DD together, meet Aradia at the Green Sun. The Tumor detonates as planned, but Aradia is able to save them somehow, possibly by spiriting them away with time travel...

...or, by telling them how she cheated death.

Aradia was able to resurrect herself without a backup body, from a pedestal hidden within the moon of Derse; the very moon the kids are currently piloting. Doc Scratch has already hinted that Rose might ascend on 'another quest bed somewhere', and I think this is how she - and Dave - could do it.

If Rose and Dave died destroying the Sun, it would almost certainly count as Heroic – but that doesn't actually matter. If the twins die on Quest Slabs, they won't die as God Tiers - they'll die as mortals, and resurrect as God Tiers. They should reincarnate safely, as the Sun collapses for good.

The Meteor Crew

To be honest, I don't think the trolls will have much of a role to play in the endgame. All the action is happening in the kids' session, and now that the Scratch has started, they can't even contact that session.

In any case, these kids are planning to follow the Green Sun's explosion to a predetermined rendezvous point. I'm not sure how they're going to get there - but Kanaya is a wielder of the Space Aspect, so maybe it's her time to shine.

...I mean, shine even more brightly than she already does.

Jack

After he absolutely kills CD, Jack is destined to travel to the troll session, but I still have no idea how. Perhaps the dimensional instability created by the Scratch will start to rip holes into other sessions, and he’ll be lured into one? Who knows.

I'm as stumped as I ever was. Only one way to find out, I guess!

John

Once he's triggered the Scratch, this kid's going to need an out. He'll need to make himself scarce in order to avoid being erased...

...or, perhaps he won’t. Perhaps, as the Heir of Breath, he’ll be able to use the Breeze to conceal himself from whatever force is destroying the session, the same way he hid his scent from Jack.

Either way, he'll probably be fine, while the same cannot be said for...

Jade

The greatest of Fs for our girl. Jade's been killed in an extremely tense situation, without leaving much hope for her resurrection before the Scratch.

The Sprites are still around, but I don’t know how they’d revive her- like, sure, Nanna has a healing beam, but I don’t think she can heal death. Plus, Jade made a Choice with Echidna to locate her Final Frog - and it seems that accepting a Choice will inevitably lead you to sacrifice your life. If Jade's death was immediately undone, would it really count as a sacrifice?

I don't want to call it too early, but... it isn't out of the question that Jade is gone for good. Especially when she's already got a replacement, waiting in the wings.

Jadesprite

I think it's genuinely possible that Jadesprite could take over Jade's role as one of the 'main' four kids.

She's about to lose her First Guardian powers, but she should still have time to fulfil Echidna's request in her realself's stead, simply by shrinking the entire session, and teleporting it to the Furthest Ring, where her allies can captchalogue it. Hell, this would be easy for her.

I really, really don't want Jade to be dead. But, well... she made a Choice.

The Endgame

Finally, we see the consequences of the Green Sun’s destruction, which I’m sure are as cataclysmic as they are unexpected. Rose realizes how badly she was played, as Scratch's full hand is finally revealed. All of Paradox Space shakes from the impact. Scratch and Snowman die, and English consumes the troll universe.

Everyone meets up on the exiled Lands, and they resolve to travel to the reset session, once it’s spawned.

Act 6?

After we're done, I’m hoping for the Guardians-as-Players to get the Hivebent treatment – by which I mean, I’m hoping Act 6 gives us the full story of the Scratched session, right from kid Nanna standing in her bedroom. It’s also possible, though, that we’ll join their session in medias res, as our protagonists' teenage parents face hitherto unknown challenges in a new Medium. I'll talk more about my specific predictions for the Guardian session in their own post, once Act 5 has fully concluded.

The adventure continues, as the kids slowly realize that English, and the Paradox Space twisted to suit his ends, is the true enemy, and they begin to make plans to confront him directly.

#asks #homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #theories

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laviexenrose · 2 years ago

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“Yes, we do.” She glanced over at him in time to catch the incredulous look on Ben’s face. Isabelle nearly laughed. The idea that one could be fined for moving only 12 miles per hour was risible, but she reminded herself where he had come from was a far different time, and any traffic law, whether it was of the past or present, were meant to keep the general public safe. “I- I don’t know. I haven’t seen any Troopers since we’ve been on this road.”

It was always came as a bit of a shock when Ben couldn't understand what she was trying to say, even if they were speaking the same language. “Oh, it’s when you... never mind. I can explain once we’re not in the car anymore.” Isabelle would have reached out for his hand, if she thought he wouldn’t panic at her steering with one hand, which was easier now that she had more experience behind the wheel. “You’ll be fine. You’ll survive,” she offered, flashing him what she hoped would be a reassuring smile.

“Satellites,” answered Isabelle simply, looking up from the device to Ben for a brief moment before her gaze rested on the road ahead. She knew her answer would inspire more questions rather than quell his curiosity. “Well… it’s- it's more complicated than I could tell you, but nonetheless fascinating.” At least, Isabelle thought so. Despite her childhood being so far behind her, the immense desire to learn as much about the world as possible had carried over well into adulthood. Much like Ben in this century, she was constantly learning new things about life and the world as it was today, or more recently, about history and the countless stories of the past. She’d be lying if that wasn’t slightly influenced by having met Ben.

There was a sheepish expression sprawled on her face as she glanced at him. “Before you, I didn’t even know Setauket existed.” It was a bit strange to think about what her life was like without Ben. While Isabelle couldn’t say she’d been truly unhappy -- there was always something to smile about -- she also couldn’t say she’d been as happy as she was now, with him at her side. “That would be a good starting point, and maybe... if you’re feeling up for it, we visit your father’s home afterwards. We should try any place you’re closely associated with.”

“You have driving laws as well?” Ben asked, flashing her a disbelieving look. “They certainly do not behave as though there are penalties in effect…in the city, if you surpass 11 miles per hour via carriage, you will get penalized with a fine. Where is the constable to fine these ruffians?”

Throw up?

Head swimming, Ben stammered, “I, um…I-I don’t know what that means…throw what up?” Exhaling, long and slow, he gripped more tightly at the grab handle and squirmed. “I’m all right,” he said after a moment. “A little shaken, perhaps, but I’ve certainly had worse.”

He most certainly had not. Or at least, nothing that could compare to this alarming venture.

While Isabelle checked the magical box that gave directions, Ben found himself fascinated by the strange-looking map. “How does it move?” he asked. “Your map…it dances.” The strange markings twisted left and right, hypnotic and fluctuating as they drove.

Twenty minutes wasn’t so bad – in his experience, travel took far, far longer – and clearing his throat, Ben shifted in his seat and winced when the restrictive harness kept him from properly moving. “I was thinking we could go to my father’s home,” he said, “but…perhaps that would be too much. Maybe we should start in the heart of town first, where everyone would always gather.” Reluctant, he pressed, “Has it changed terribly much? Or have you never been?”

#honorhearted #// LOL why did i just imagine them in a horse drawn carriage on the highway #cue ben breathing into a paper bag xD #i don't mind driving but only when i'm not stuck somewhere in traffic bc the traffic can get really bad here #tho it's so much worse in LA so i can't really complain i guess #i'm crying lol why couldn't they just say THROW UP wahha #so weird #v: la vie en rose

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ellastone-olsen · 11 months ago

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Smoking kink with mommy Wanda.

Warnings: NSFW 18+, mommy kink, smoking obviously, shy reader, alcohol, age gap

AN: lmao guys I’m back after month of silence, I'm rested and ready to worship Lizzie and other women again.

I was just thinking about my smoking kink and a picture of you and mommy Wanda, standing on the porch of her house appeared in my head. Perhaps you just went to visit your friends and met her, perhaps it was a small neighborly gathering, but it doesn’t matter.

The main thing is that you are standing together on the porch, and there is the second glass of wine already in your hands, which she kindly offered you. She tries to light a cigarette, it seems that it was some kind of thin and menthol (such a cliché) and because of the strong wind, the weak flame of the lighter goes out every time and you move closer to her to cover it from the wind. And when the cigarette begins to smolder, you look in a trance at her lips wrapped around the filter and smell the smell of tobacco, which is instinctively associated with Wanda.

You cover your face in shame, pretending to enjoy the wine, when in fact watching her smoke was the hottest (literally lmao) sight. She says something about the terrible weather and the constant rain, but you only half listen to her as your eyes follow her hands. Behind her thin long fingers with a cigarette and you think what these fingers could do with you... And then you look up and watch how smoke comes out of her lips and Wanda’s tongue passes along her lower lip.

It seems that this smoke went straight to your head, otherwise why else can’t you think in another direction other than about obscenity with this woman.

Oh, of course, she noticed that you were mentally somewhere not here and finished her monologue about the weather and asked. "Do you want?" You didn’t immediately understand what she meant, only when you saw her handing you a cigarette. Wanda knew that you didn’t smoke, but her first guess about your reaction to her bad habit was that you were simply afraid to ask her to let you try. You looked at the smoke that rose between you both and did’t move. “I...no thanks, I don’t smoke.”

Silence followed you again and the puzzle in the older woman’s head began to take shape. “Are you sure you don’t want to?” She asked in the hope that you would think twice about it. All that came out of your mouth was a string of unintelligible stutters and then she placed her free hand on yours that was holding the glass and lowered them so she could see your red face. Wanda advanced on you, gradually pressing you into the railing until she was so close that her chest was pressed against yours. "I think you will like it." She whispered and took another drag, looking into your eyes. And then she leaned towards your lips, barely touching to exhale the bitter smoke.

Now the smoke that was in her lungs ended up in yours and the nicotine instantly entered your bloodstream, causing you even more dizziness and an attack of euphoria. Wanda's hand with the cigarette rose to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and the woman asked another question in a whisper. “Well, dear? How do you like it?” An uncontrollable moan escaped from your mouth, giving Wanda the green light and she broke her lips on yours, immediately using her tongue inside you. The glass of wine was put aside somewhere and your hands grabbed the railing because you felt like you might fall.

Wanda took your face in her hands and kissed you so greedily, as if she were a wild animal, whispering “Good girl” between kisses and “Let Mommy do the work” which made your core throb.

She having to pull away because someone came outside looking for the two of you and she ended up smoking the rest of her cigarette like she did in the beginning; leaving you at the railing with burning cheeks and heat between your thighs.

The last thing Wanda said to you was “Go upstairs when they’re all gone, second door on the right.” She turned around and winked at you, walking into the warmth and noise of the house.

#wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff imagine #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda marvel

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rose-petles · 3 months ago

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Wake up -> Y.JW [ 정원 ]

Warning → None.

Paring → Softdom!Jungwon x Softiefem!Reader.

Synopsis → Jungwon comes home early from work and finds you sleeping.

"Love I'm home!!" Your boyfriend, Jungwon, shouted from the hallway as he entered you the shared apartment.

The smile on his face was unbreakable. The sun was still up, the time only a little after three o'clock in the afternoon.

It's rare that he gets to be home this early but hw wasn't gonna complain about that. He always came home later in the evening, so he was happy to come home earlier.

He was practically over the moon about it; knowing he's got the remaining hours of the day left to spend with you and only you.

It was a little unusual.

The living room was empty.

Odd, considering that he knew you planned on binge-watching some k-drama's or movies a bit today.

Jungwong thought he’d find you on the sofa, covered up with a cozy blanket, and intrigued with whatever it was you were watching on your phone or ipad or even your imac.

He checked the kitchen but it was also empty.

He started to walked around the hallway and he did so quickly, curious, and slightly nervous, as to see where you may be hiding.

But a moment later, when he stood in the doorway of your shared bedroom, all of his worries faded as he was met with a precious sight.

Curled up on his side of the bed, you were sound asleep, wearing one of his hoodies. Small, quiet snores fell from your parted lips.

Your cheek was pressed against his comfortable fabric of the pillowcase, and you were covered with his blanket and dressed in his hoodie.

It was all so much for his heart to handle, a feeling of love causing it to swell and skip a beat again and again.

Jungwon tiptoed to you and crouched down in front of you.

He reached up to caress your cheek lovingly and when your eyes opened slowly, you were met with her soft brown orbs gazing into yours with a look of adoration.

"Hey, my love." He smiled. "How's you sleep? Did you Sleep okay?"

His heart fluttered when you wrapped your fingers around hus hand and brought it to your lips for a few kisses.

"Yeah. I guess I fell asleep somewhere along the line during my binge-watch. Missed a few episodes." You pouted, causing him to chuckle softly. "You're home awfully early."

"Yeah. Didn't have a lot to do today, so they let us all go home early. I'm definitely not complaining. Means I get lots of time with my love and the more time i spend with you is the most time i'm happy."

You grinned and cupped his cheek to bring him in for a kiss.

"Are you tired still?"

You shook your head and scooted over in bed, pulling the blanket up for her to climb under the covers beside you. He was happy to do so, joining you in a heartbeat.

You rolled into her arms, feeling comforted as soon as they were wrapped around you.

"I'm so happy you're home early. I've missed you so much really i do..."

"Missed you more, baby," Jungwon spoke before pressing her lips onto yours for a few more loving but passionate kisses.

"Now, what are we watching? Fill me in so we can watch it together!"

Your eyes lit up. It always makes you feel good about how he always takes such interest in the things that are so important to you. You know he cares so much, finding that the things you love most become just as important to him.

You put your head on her his, ear resting right over her heart so you could hear it beat while you explained the first episode to him. He was all ears, looking at you with the most loving look in hus eyes.

And you were happy, you had him for the rest of the day.

Back to -> | Navagation | Masterlist

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punkshort · 1 year ago

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somewhere to run | 4. the carnival

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel wants to take things further after you both come clean about your feelings, but some new information comes to light about your past that causes a problem.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, boatloads of sexual tension, some sexual situations but no smut

WC: 6.5K

A/N: I'm dropping this chapter and running

Series Masterlist

You awoke the next morning wrapped in a comforting warmth, but not the warmth you were used to from your blankets. You couldn't put your finger on it, but something was different. Why did it seem so much brighter behind your eyelids? Were you in the living room? Then you felt rather than heard a low rumble, the sound reverberating under your palm and through your cheek. A distinct deep, throaty, masculine noise that you never heard before.

Finally, curiosity got the best of you and you opened one eye. Your hand was resting on top of Joel's chest, your leg was intertwined with his. You should have jumped away immediately, but you didn't. You just stared with your one eye still open, watching as your hand rose and fell rhythmically with his breath.

Then you felt his hands on you. One on your hip, the other on your arm and that did it. You sat up quickly. Too quickly. You wrenched yourself out of his grasp and leapt up from the couch, the sudden movement causing him to stir and rub his eyes. Backing up to put more space between you, you wrapped your arms around yourself protectively, staring at him as he sat up and looked around.

"Shit. We must've fell asleep waitin' for the rain to stop," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep and you felt an unexpected jolt between your legs.

He really should have felt guilty. He was a fucking liar. He knew what he was doing last night, but you didn't. You fell asleep all on your own. Innocent and soft and sweet. But he intentionally tucked you into his side, purposefully wrapped his arms around you. Because he was greedy and desperate. Ever since that day, the attempted robbery, he ached to hold you so badly that it was painful. So he was selfish and took what he wanted, but he could see now by the look in your eye that it wasn't the right thing to do. Shit.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, standing up and ignoring the cracking in his lower back. "Nothin' happened," he added, and you blinked rapidly at that, stunned.

"Okay," you managed to whisper, eyes wide as you tried to grapple with the situation. You stared at each other for a moment, each searching the other's eyes, neither of you acknowledging the obvious shift.

Suddenly, an alarm went off on his phone. He broke eye contact to fish it out of his pocket and turned it off, checking the time.

"Gotta get ready for work," he said regrettably, wanting so badly to stay with you, to talk about what happened. He needed to know why. Why were you so distant? Why didn't you want to let him in? He was beginning to second guess the looks you've given him, the color in your cheeks when he flirts with you. Did he completely misread things? Maybe you just weren't attracted to him the same way he was to you. Fuck, he hoped that wasn't it.

"Don't overthink it," he told you curtly, trying to backpedal now that the morning wasn't going at all like he had hoped. "We just fell asleep, that's all."

"Okay," you said again, a little more clearer now.

He looked like he wanted to say more, but he glanced down at his watch and brushed past you to the door. He slipped his shoes on and swung the door open, but the. he paused, his fist tightening on the doorknob before looking back at you once more.

"See you at lunch."

With that, he closed the door behind him. You listened as his heavy footsteps trotted down the steps and then the click of the door unlocking down below. You had to hold yourself back from rushing to the window to watch him leave.

"Fuck!" you shouted out loud to yourself, all alone now in your tiny apartment. You crumpled to the ground and wrapped your arms around your knees, rocking back and forth while you tried not to cry.

You couldn't let this happen. You had to pull back. He didn't know it, but it's for the best. You were doing him a favor. But it was hard. It was so, so hard because for the first time maybe ever, you woke up in someone else's arms and you were happy. Your instinct was right. Avoiding Joel's touch for as long as possible was the right move, because now that you knew what it was like, you craved it. It's only been ten minutes and you already yearned for it again. You were weak. And the worst part was you were going to have to face him again in just a few hours, and you had no idea what you were going to do.

The diner was busy that morning. Maria asked you to clock in right away so you could help take some tables. You were relieved to have the distraction. It helped keep your mind off the time, to stop yourself from counting down the minutes until Joel's broad frame walked through the front door.

It was late in the morning when the rush finally died down and you were helping Betty clean all of the abandoned tables in the dining room. You lost count of how many bus tubs you filled up so far as you hoisted the latest one on your hip and made your way to the dish area in back. One of the other waitresses, Gina, gave you a sideways glance as you walked by. You smiled at her but she didn't return it. In fact, it almost felt like she was mad at you. You hardly spoke to Gina since you started. Your shifts didn't usually overlap. It was ridiculous to think she would be mad at you. But something was definitely off because another older waitress, Vicky, who was never very outgoing but never really gave you a hard time, either, glared and muttered something under her breath as you passed by her in the kitchen. You frowned and turned around, watching her shake her head and continue to mutter to herself as she made her way out into the dining room.

"Betty?" you said quietly when you found her alone behind the counter.

"What's up, sweetie?" she asked as she filled the coffee machine.

"Did I do something to offend anyone?"

She paused what she was doing and considered her response before setting the coffee down and glancing around.

"What makes you ask?"

"I'm probably just being paranoid but it feels like some of the waitresses here don't really like me for some reason," you said, then chuckled. "I sound crazy, I'm sorry."

"They're just jealous, hun. Don't let it bother you, they'll get over it," she whispered, then turned back to the coffee machine.

"Jealous? Of what?" you asked, completely taken aback. So it wasn't just all in your head.

"We live in a real small town, I know you ain't used to that but what people do 'round here never stays secret for long," she said, as if that somehow answered your question.

"What does that have to do with me?"

She smiled at you and gave you a knowing look, but you were still confused.

"Oh, c'mon. You don't gotta play coy with me. Connie was openin' up the boutique this mornin' and saw Joel leave your apartment."

All of the blood drained from your face.

"What?" you whispered in disbelief.

"Nothin' to be ashamed 'bout, sweetie. All the women 'round here either want him, or they want their daughters to have him. They're just ticked he's finally off the market, is all," she explained, walking past you to greet a customer, but you grabbed her elbow, making her swivel around in surprise.

"I'm not - we aren't - that's not at all what happened!" you stuttered, your face growing hot now.

"Sure, hun," she said with a wink, then turned on her heel to greet the man at the end of the counter, leaving you slack jawed and shocked.

"Oh my god," you whispered, turning away from the counter to hide your face. How could this day get any fucking worse?

You heard someone sit down at the counter and clear their throat, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You knew that sound already. When you turned around and met Joel's eyes, he frowned, sensing immediately that something was wrong.

"C'mon, you can't still be upset about earlier," he said as you approached, and you winced.

"It's not that," you murmured, glancing around and noticing a couple of the waitresses from across the dining room watching you and whispering. You felt your stomach clench with anxiety.

"Then what's wrong?"

You looked back at him again, your eyebrows pinched with worry.

"Someone saw you leave this morning and now the whole town thinks we're sleeping together," you said as quietly as you could, your eyes still flicking around the dining room, trying your best to make your interaction with him look as innocent as possible.

"Oh," he said, sitting back in his chair as he thought about what you said. He looked around and saw a couple of the waitresses giving you nasty looks and he sighed.

"I'm so sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I'll set people straight, I promise. Just gimme the rest of the day and I'll make it right."

You immediately felt bad when you saw the stress and exhaustion that appeared on his face.

"Don't - it's fine. You have more important things to worry about," you said, picking up a clean mug and filling it with coffee for him.

"You're important to me, too, y'know," he said softly.

"Joel-" you said, setting the coffee pot down and pinching the bridge of your nose. He cut you off.

"You don't gotta say anythin'," he said, swallowing his pride.

"It's just not a good time for... this," you said, your voice pained as you pointed between the two of you quickly, then dropping your hand so no one else would see.

The way he looked at you caused your chest to squeeze and you felt the tears burning in the backs of your eyes. You could see it written all over his face, although he tried to mask it, it was clear you hurt him.

"Can't we just be friends?" you finally asked.

"Yeah," he said quietly, then looked down at the menu. "That's - yeah, 'course we can."

And you thought your day couldn't get any worse.

Miraculously, after only a couple of weeks, the people in town seemed to move on from the rumor about you. You couldn't be sure if it was Betty or Joel or just the passage of time that did it, but the women in town stopped giving you nasty looks and you stopped hearing whispers after you walked by a table at work.

You knew it was for the best. You knew you were saving Joel from all your bullshit and that was the right thing to do, but selfishly you wished you could have him all to yourself. Was that so wrong? To just want something that was good and sweet, something that made you feel hopeful? Didn't you deserve that?

Joel stopped appearing outside of work as well. You found yourself looking for him all the time now. When you walked back home after work, when you were at the grocery store, everywhere you went you looked for him or Sarah, missing them both, but you never saw them. The town was so small, how the hell was it even possible?

At least he still came into the diner, but you got what you asked for. He stopped flirting with you and he treated you as a friend and nothing more when you waited on him. And even though you were the one who drew the line in the sand, you hated it.

It was your day off and you found yourself at the library picking up the book you had on hold for that month's book club selection. You were surprised you were still invited to the book club meeting after the rumor about you and Joel spread through town like wildfire, but you had a sneaking suspicion Hailey was the driving force behind your invite. You considered turning it down, but what would be the point in that? Then you'd really be all alone.

The library was peaceful. Sometimes when you felt especially lonely, you found a quiet corner when you stopped by to read, which is what you decided to do that day. There was something soothing about it, knowing people were nearby, but you also didn't feel forced to talk to anybody. That was, until you heard a young girl's soft, familiar voice heading in your direction. You heard her say your name, her voice hushed so as not to disturb the other patrons, and you dragged your eyes up from your book to give her a little smile.

"Sarah, hi," you said, standing up as she approached. And sure enough, Joel's towering frame trailed moments after her. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stiffen but then force himself forward. Inwardly, you cringed at his reaction to seeing you, but you knew you had nobody to blame but yourself.

"What're you reading?" she asked, tilting her head to the side to try to read the title of the book left hanging limply in your hand.

"Oh, it's for a book club I'm in," you said, lifting it up to show her. She nodded and scanned the cover.

"Any good?"

"I just started it but so far, it's not too bad. I wouldn't have picked it for myself, but that's the cool thing about a book club. Sometimes you read things you wouldn't normally think you'd like," you said, glancing up at Joel standing behind her, giving him a polite smile. Sarah's eyes drifted between you and her dad, and she got a playful look in her eye.

"Will we see you at the carnival tonight?" she asked you, and you dropped your gaze from Joel back to her.

"Oh, yeah I heard about that," you told her, then lowered your voice when you saw an older woman glance up at you three angrily. "No, I wasn't planning on going." You considered it, but you weren't friendly enough yet with Hailey to join in with her friends and you felt funny going alone.

"Oh, come on! It's only one weekend a year, and the entire town goes. It's so much fun, you'll love it!" she said, bouncing on her feet and ignoring the dirty looks she was getting.

"Shh, babygirl, you're bein' too loud," Joel finally spoke up behind her. The deep, low tone he used reminded you of what he sounds like when he first wakes up in the morning, and you felt a familiar stirring below your waist at the sound.

"Uh, I don't know then, maybe," you finally relented, just to hopefully quiet her down.

"Dad usually takes me to the same spot for dinner every year, it's a fried chicken stand and the line is like, a mile long but the wait is so worth it. Do you wanna join us?"

"Sarah," Joel whispered warningly.

"What?" she whispered back, annoyed.

"If I go, I'll definitely find you, how's that sound?" you told her, hoping that would be enough to end the conversation. The awkwardness was just too much at this point. It wasn't her fault, she was just a kid.

"Promise?" she begged, big brown eyes all wide. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Promise," you assured her. She grinned then turned to Joel.

"I'm gonna go check out the DVDs," and before he could reply, she hurried away. If you didn't know any better, you would have thought she was intentionally trying to get the two of you alone.

His eyes trailed after her, his hands on his hips and his jaw ticked to the side as he struggled with what to say.

"Don't worry 'bout it, if you don't wanna go later."

"Oh... okay," you said, and he must have heard the uncertainty in your voice because he finally looked at you.

"Unless you want to, you're more than welcome to join us. Just didn't want you to feel like you had to," he explained, eyeing you up closely.

"She put up one hell of a case for it," you said with a smile.

"Yeah, she tends to do that," he said with that grin that made your knees weak, then dropped his gaze to the floor.

You were so stupid. Why did you push him away? Well, you knew why, but it still wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to either of you.

"Well, I should go," he said, still looking at the floor, racking his brain for something else to say to keep him near you, but he knew it would just cause him more pain in the long run.

You nodded and he finally looked up at you, holding your gaze for a moment before he forced himself to move. He only took a couple steps before you spoke.

"Fried chicken?"

He stopped and turned around in surprise before slowly nodding his head.

"Nothin' like it," he said. You furrowed your brow as if deep in thought.

"Maybe I'll come see what all the fuss is about," you told him. You knew you were sending him mixed signals, you knew it wasn't right, but you missed him. You missed the way he made you feel. Safe.

He let a slow smile spread across his face before he shrugged and pursed his lips.

"You won't regret it," he said with a wink that made your heart flutter.

Before you could think of anything to say, he disappeared down the row of books in search of Sarah.

It only took you the rest of the afternoon to figure out what you were going to wear and how to do your hair. And you didn't want to admit it, but it was the happiest you felt in a long time. You knew deep down that you shouldn't feed into this little crush you had, but what was the harm in having a little fun? It didn't have to mean anything. You could spend time with Joel as just friends. But every time you overthought your outfit you needed to remind yourself he is just a friend. This was not a date. The yellow dress you picked up from a second hand store that fell right above your knee was not necessarily a 'date' dress. It could pass as a casual dress. You definitely didn't choose it because you wanted to look good for him. It was hot out, and the dress kept you cooler than a T-shirt and shorts. That's all it was.

After you parked and paid for admission, you picked up a map at the entrance and scanned the fairgrounds, trying to pinpoint where you currently were in relation to the food stands. Sarah was right: the entire town seemed to be there. The place was packed as you made your way through the crowds, occasionally stopping to check out a vendor or watch someone win a prize at a game you most definitely wouldn't be any good at. When you started to smell sugar and fried food, you knew you must be close, so you began to pay closer attention to the booths, scanning for a place that advertised fried chicken.

It was easier to spot than you thought. The line really was a mile long. And the food smelled delicious. You slowed down so you could scan the crowd, trying to find them when you heard your name from behind. You turned with a smile to see Joel and Sarah already seated at a picnic table with half eaten food in front of them and Sarah waving you down. As you approached their table, Joel slid a plate of untouched chicken towards the empty spot next to him, hiding a smile behind his food as his eyes lingered a moment too long on your dress.

"How'd you know I would show up?" you asked him with a grin as you sat down, your mouth watering as you inhaled the delicious aroma.

"Lucky guess," he said as he bit into a chicken leg. You picked up a piece and took a bite, Sarah watching you for your reaction with bated breath. You moaned and nodded to her, still chewing, but giving her a thumbs up. She was right once again.

"Told ya," she said with a grin.

"Do you guys come here every year?" you asked, covering your mouth as you spoke while you chewed. She nodded and swallowed.

"Every year since as far back as I can remember," she said. "It's like a tradition. We always come for the chicken and Dad always wins me a fish."

"A fish? Like a real fish?"

"Yep. I have a small aquarium at home. I have one fish that's been alive for like, five years, I think. Right, Dad?"

"Somethin' like that," he said with a nod, dropping his gaze to his plate.

"Wow," you replied. "That's pretty impressive for a carnival fish."

"I know. Dad says I have the magic touch. That maybe I should be a vet, or a zookeeper, or a marine biologist."

"You would be awesome at any of those things," you said with a smile. Joel's eyes flicked back and forth between you as you spoke, the warmth in his chest blooming at the way Sarah looked at you.

"Thanks. I've always loved animals, I think I would like to do something like that when I grow up. What did you want to be when you were little?"

"Me?" you asked, taken aback by the question. "You know, I barely even remember. I think for a while I wanted to be a teacher. Then I got older and... I don't know. I worked odd jobs here or there, then I didn't work for a while, and now I'm here."

"Did you work as a waitress before?" she asked. Joel stayed suspiciously quiet while you spoke, pretending to focus on his food but in reality was hanging on your every word, eager to learn more.

"A long time ago, yeah," you said after swallowing a bite of chicken.

"Do you like it at Uncle Tommy's?"

"Sarah, give her a second to eat, will ya?" Joel finally interjected, giving her a look. You laughed and waved him off.

"It's okay. Yes, I really like it at the diner. Everyone's really nice there. Your uncle is a really good boss."

"Is my dad your favorite customer?" she asked with a playful smirk, and Joel groaned into his palm next to you.

"I mean, obviously," you replied, rolling your eyes and making her giggle.

Fortunately, a marching band was making their way down the main drag of the fairgrounds, drowning out any remaining questions Sarah might have had. Grateful for the break, you ate as much as you could before pushing the rest to Joel, insisting you couldn't finish it. He gave you a fake disappointed look before he finished off the rest of your food, and you giggled as he pretended to scold you while Sarah smiled, watching the two of you quietly.

After you were done, the three of you walked the fairgrounds for a bit, heading towards the rides. Sarah spotted a group of friends from soccer and begged Joel to let her go hang out with them. He nodded, but only after he scanned the group and made sure he recognized the girls.

"She's gettin' to be that age where she ditches me for all her friends," he said as he watched her run off with a couple twenties from his wallet.

"That's gotta be tough," you said sympathetically, your eyes drifting over the different rides as you walked past.

"Not so much today," he replied, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye and watching your cheeks flush.

"Joel..." you said quietly. You needed to remind the both of you where you stood. Now that you were alone, it felt too much like a date, and you felt yourself slipping into that grey territory again.

"I know, I know. Just friends, right?" he said, as if reading your mind.

"Yeah," you said softly, looking down at the ground, unable to look him in the eye. You wanted to be so much more than just friends but you just couldn't let yourself be honest with him.

"It's okay, you know," he said, finally drawing your gaze back to him. "I can be okay with being just friends."

"Really?" you asked, but you felt your stomach twist and the little voice in your head was screaming at you for being such a fucking idiot.

"Yeah, really," he said with a chuckle. "If you don't feel the same way, it's fine. I understand."

"That's not-" you began with a shake of your head. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" he asked instantly. You paused, not sure how much to tell him. He must have picked up on your hesitancy because he quickly retracted his question.

"Sorry. You don't gotta - just forget it."

"I really like spending time with you. I just have some stuff I need to work through on my own," you finally admitted, not wanting to elaborate further but you felt compelled to give him something.

"Y'know, friends would tell each other what kind of stuff they're strugglin' with," he said with a teasing tone, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinning.

"Is that so?" you replied, and he nodded.

"Oh yeah. All my buddies spill their guts to me whenever they're dealin' with somethin'," he said, pursing his lips to try to keep up the serious facade.

"And what kind of stuff do your friends tell you, Sheriff?" you asked, still smiling as you glanced over at him walking by your side.

"Oh, the usual. Boss is bein' too hard on 'em, car's givin' 'em trouble... girl they like won't call," he said, watching you giggle at the last one.

"What advice do you give them?" you pressed, and he finally grinned.

"Find a new job and take the car in to Connor's," he said with a shrug, as if the answer was obvious.

"And what about the last one?" you asked slowly, biting your lip and keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead. You knew you shouldn't encourage him, but you couldn't help yourself.

"That one's tougher," he said with a dramatic sigh. "But I would tell 'em not to give up. And if they have an adorable daughter, I would tell 'em to bring her around to help play matchmaker."

You giggled and he smiled, pleased every time he could make you laugh. He had to resist the urge to reach out and hold your hand. He missed talking with you like this too much to risk ruining it again, and if this was all you were willing to offer him, he would take it.

As you walked by a carnival game, Joel chuckled under his breath at the men trying and failing to impress their girlfriends by shooting poorly at the moving targets with fake guns. One of them heard his laugh and twisted around.

"You think you can do any better, Sheriff?" one balding man asked with a smirk.

"I should hope so, Kenny," Joel said, stopping and shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

"Why don't you put your money where your mouth is, then?" another man said with a grin. A couple people walking past overheard the conversation and stopped to watch.

Joel shrugged and turned back to you.

"D'you mind?"

"Not at all," you said, waving him forward. You stood back with your arms crossed and watched as Joel tossed a five dollar bill on the table and took a seat on an empty stool. He picked up the toy gun and twisted it around in his hand, testing the weight and the sight before readjusting himself, spreading his legs wide and straightening his back. Your mouth went dry as you watched him lean forward and take aim before slowly letting a breath pass through his lips, gently squeezing the trigger and hitting the moving target right in the center.

A chorus of groans and jeers from the other men drowned out the low sound you made before you took a deep breath and watched him take aim once again. Your gaze was too focused on him and the way he handled himself with such ease and confidence to notice that the crowd behind you grew bigger, some were even recording it on their phones.

When Joel repeated the same action, deftly squeezing the trigger and once again hitting his mark, you felt a pull below your waist that completely distracted you from the loud cheers.

Three more times you watched Joel take aim and hit a bullseye without even breaking a sweat. Your pulse was racing and your knees felt weak by the time he stood up with a bashful smile and took a bow for the crowd. His gaze landed on yours and his smile faltered when he saw the look in your eye, but his attention was immediately stolen by the teenager running the game.

"Here you go, man," he said, handing over a stuffed penguin half your size.

"Christ, Joel, way to make us look bad," Kenny teased good-naturedly with a playful punch to his shoulder. Joel grinned and shrugged, his cheeks dusted with the slightest bit of pink.

"Better hit the range, then, boys," he said, turning away from them and heading over towards you, his gaze darkening as he approached.

"Here you go, buddy," he said with half a smirk as he handed you the prize. You cleared your throat, trying to rid your mind of the lust driven thoughts that took over your brain for the past five minutes.

"Don't you want to give it to Sarah?" you asked, hesitantly accepting it.

"Givin' it to you," was all he said, then jutted his chin, urging you to start walking.

"Thank you," you said breathlessly, looking down at the stuffed animal as you let him lead you away.

You walked side by side, a few people stopping to pat Joel on the shoulder and glance at you curiously before you managed to melt back into the crowd.

"That was something else," you finally said, breaking the silence.

"I'm an assassin in my spare time," he joked, and you giggled, the heat rising to your cheeks almost immediately. God, you were so fucked.

You went to the restroom to try to collect yourself, reminding yourself quietly over and over in the mirror he's just a friend, he's just a friend, stop it.

When you came out, your eyes scanned around until you spotted him with a funnel cake sitting at a picnic table with your penguin sitting in the seat next to him, his eyes cast down on the phone in his hand. Fuck, even just sitting there scrolling on his phone, he was too damn good looking. You slid across from him and squeezed your thighs together under the table, looking for some relief and hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Hey," he said with a warm smile, then tucked his phone back into his pocket. "Sorry. Just checkin' in with Sarah." He reached forward, ripping off a piece of the funnel cake and popping it in his mouth, then pushed the plate towards you, encouraging you to help yourself.

"How's she doing?" you asked. You took a bite and then closed your eyes, moaning a little when the sugar hit your tongue. When he didn't respond right away, you opened your eyes and paused your chewing. His eyes raked over your face slowly, his heated stare burning you from the inside out. You swallowed your food roughly and cleared your throat. Just friends.

"She's good," he finally said softly, still giving you that look that made your heart skip a beat and your insides feel like jelly. You nodded, your head spinning, trying to think of a way to break this sudden tension when he reached out a hand, his fingers pinching your chin and his thumb swiping over your lower lip, collecting some powered sugar that gathered there. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his touch on your lips. When your eyes reopened, you held your breath as he pulled his hand back and sucked the pad of his thumb into his mouth, his plush lips wrapping enticingly around his finger, refusing to break eye contact.

You could barely breathe. You needed to say something before you lost all control, but unfortunately, he spoke first.

"You're makin' it real hard to be your friend when you make noises like that, sweetheart," he said lowly. You felt the slick between your legs as you pressed your thighs together even tighter.

"You're not exactly making it easy, either, you know," you said, matching his tone. You could see the playful glint in his eye as the corner of his mouth tugged into half a smile.

"Yeah? How's that?"

"Showing off those shooting skills in front of the whole town like it was nothing," you told him, the words tumbling out before you had a chance to think. He leaned across the picnic table and licked his bottom lip.

"You liked that?" he asked, his gaze flicking between your eyes and mouth. You leaned forward as well, getting caught in his magnetic pull.

"Mhmm," was all you managed to get out as you felt yourself falling under his spell.

"Why?"

"Hm?" you asked, looking up and dragging your eyes off his little exposed patch of chest, your mind growing hazy.

"Why did'ya like it?" he clarified. His voice sounded strained and his jaw looked tense as he continued to stare you down across the picnic table. You grinned and sat back, trying to put a little distance between you, hoping it would cause one or both of you to snap out of it, but it didn't work.

"The answer to that question isn't exactly a friendly one," you finally told him, biting your lip to hold back your giggle when you saw his pained reaction. What were you doing? This was so wrong, but you couldn't stop.

"Tell me, I wanna hear it," he whispered desperately, his eyes dark pools of lust as he waited for you to speak.

You knew if you said what you wanted to say, there would be no going back. It would go a step beyond innocent flirting and it could lead you both somewhere you knew you shouldn't go. But you were weak, after all. So you said it, anyway.

"It made me think about what else those hands could do."

It was a good thing you weren't leaning forward any longer because the look in his eye made you believe if you were within reaching distance, he would have had you bent over the picnic table already, dress hiked up around your waist for the whole town to see.

"Fuck," he rasped, finally breaking eye contact so he could rub his face roughly with his palms. Suddenly he dropped his hands back down on the table, his eyes ablaze.

"Come home with me and I'll show you," he begged. Your arousal was becoming far too evident, to the point where you worried you would leave a mark on your dress. You wanted nothing more than to go home with him, but it wouldn't be right. You weren't being honest. He deserved to know the truth before he got mixed up with all your shit.

"That's not very friend-"

"Fuck being friends, I want you," he said, practically out of breath while his hand gripped the side of the table so tightly you thought the wood would crack. "And you want me, too. So what the hell are we doin' here?"

"I-" you stammered, immediately regretting letting this get so far out of hand. You weren't ready to tell him the truth. You knew if you did, it would ruin everything.

"What am I sayin'? I'm movin' way too fast," he said, his tone softening as he misread your hesitancy. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pressure you. We can go slow, okay?"

And because you were so weak, you nodded.

"Slow. Okay."

He leaned back and the look of relief on his face instantly filled you with guilt. If you were going to do this - if you were going to really try to do this with him - you needed to tell him the truth. Sooner rather than later.

He insisted on walking you to your car, his hand finding yours at your side while he carried the stuffed animal with his other hand. The parking lot was dark and quiet the further you got away from the fairgrounds. He was telling you something about being safe at night but all you could hear in your head was tell him! tell him!

When you got to your car, he put the penguin in the front seat and jokingly secured the seatbelt around it, making you smile nervously. You couldn't let this go any further.

But when he rounded the car to say good night and looked at you with those soft, beautiful eyes, you felt the voice in your head grow more distant.

He reached up to cup your face with both hands and looked you in the eye for just a moment before bending down and brushing his lips against yours. It was so soft and sweet and gentle and unlike anything you've ever felt that you just melted into his touch, your shaky hands coming up to his chest. He tasted like sugar and he smelled like heaven and you couldn't get enough, so you deepened the kiss, your tongue tentatively exploring his mouth as he walked you backwards a few steps so you were pushed up against your car. His hands fell from your face to your hips, squeezing them gently with his fingers and pulling you ever so slightly forward so you could feel what you were doing to him. You gasped at the hardness caged within his jeans, and he took the opportunity to venture down your jaw, his lips gently nipping while he went as you instinctually tipped your head back, the sensation far too intoxicating.

"So beautiful," he murmured into your neck. "Gonna take real good care of you one day. Gonna make you forget about every other man who's ever had you, you hear me?"

Your eyes snapped open, reality finally sinking in.

"Joel, wait," you whispered, and reluctantly he pulled back, but he kept his hands firmly on your hips.

"What's wrong?" he asked, lips parted and slightly out of breath from excitement.

"I need to tell you something."

His grip loosened on your hips but he still held them there as he began to grow concerned by the serious look on your face.

"Okay," he said slowly.

You took a shaky breath in, knowing it was now or never.

"I'm married."

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