#Midnight and Long night of Solace are so good

[drunk-on-starlight]

Halo needs more space combat missions.

[misted-dream]

DOPAMINE ﹒⌗﹒💒﹒౨ৎ˚₊‧ 제노 + fem!reader

in which . . . you and jeno are both too secretive and oblivious for your own good.

. . . BE MY LITTLE SECRET

content&warnings | MDNI smut, profanity, fwb dynamics, reader gets picked up, stomach bulge, kinda angsty kinda fluffy, unprotected sex, idk lmk if something’s missed

word count | 3k

notes | inspired by giselle's dopamine! this kinda went off track from what i wanted but oh well!

. . . KEEP IT HUSH HUSH, BUT I THINK I’M IN LOVE

it’s not the first time you find yourself at jeno’s doorstep this late into the night—and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. but it is the first time that it’s taken him this long to answer the door.

granted, you didn’t send a prior heads up like you usually do, but you didn’t plan on coming here either. you didn’t plan on being stuck outside jeno’s apartment waiting for a response that you’ve half-accepted isn’t coming.

still, you can’t bring your feet to move away from the entrance, like they’re glued to the floor.

you would be feeling ashamed right now if it wasn’t for the fact that you think you’re beyond feeling shameful tonight. which is what exactly led you here, to jeno.

and as if god took pity on you, your ‘resilience’ is rewarded when you hear shuffling from behind the door. the door creaks open and jeno stands behind it, craggy probably from being awoken well past midnight.

his hand cups the back of his neck, stretching his shoulders as he takes in who’s standing in front of him. “yn?” instinctively, his body steps to the side, allowing you space to step into his home.

the second the last syllable of your name dropped from his lips, you find yourself nothing short of lunging at him, arms wrapping tightly around jeno’s neck.

“woah,” he stumbles back, ultimately steadying himself before slowly running a hand down your back. “hey,” he murmurs softly next to your ear, “it’s okay.” his palm continues moving over you as a way of solace, gently pushing the door shut behind you simultaneously.

you didn’t notice how quick he was to offer comfort; not even knowing what ‘it’ was before telling you that it was alright.

you stay wrapped around jeno for what you wished was eternity, but more so like a few minutes. him staying completely silent as you inhaled deep breath after another, attempting to gain composure back.

jeno finally decides to break the silence, “wanna talk about it?”

“no,” you’re quick with your response, though your voice is slightly wavering.

“okay,” jeno faintly whispers, so quiet that you barely hear him.

you unravel your arms around him, pulling yourself away to look him in his eyes. your faces inches apart, “i just need you.”

jeno flickers between your eyes. he presses a delicate kiss onto your lips before taking in a deep breath, “i’m here.”

the ever-so-familiar all-consuming urge takes over you as you crash your lips onto his, breathing him in like he’s the very oxygen you rely on.

as if by habit, jeno immediately reciprocates. his hands positioned over the small of your back, supporting you as you lean back from the sheer force of jeno kissing you back.

the way you take each other in it’s like you haven’t seen him in years. a certain desperation tasting sweet on your lips as jeno presses himself firmly against you.

he hums into your lips before pulling away to catch his breath.

your thumb rests in the place between his ear and jawline, pulling his face closer until your foreheads meet.

through a shaky breath, you whisper, “i want you.”

“i can give you that,” jeno hauls you up into his arms with ease, like all the other times before this. gently pecking your lips as he carries you into his bedroom.

the room is lit only by the warm orange lamp in the corner. his bedsheets a faded black.

jeno reaches the end of his bed, dropping you onto the soft mattress and towering over your body.

he doesn’t say anything, instead letting his eyes tell you everything he’s thinking. they roam all over you, until his gaze finally fixes onto your face.

his breath hitches before he evens it out again. crawling over your body, you can see the muscles in his arms stretch and pull as he moves, caging you inside of him.

he leans down towards you, attaching his lips to your neck. rather than his usual penchant to suck on your skin as hard as he can so as to leave marks all over you, his lips are soft and fleeting against your neck—leaving a fluttering trail of kisses all the way to your collarbone.

you arch your back into the warmth of his lips.

jeno mumbles against your skin, “tell me what you want.” his breath fanning onto your chest.

your fingers lay flat on the planes of his face, the side of your thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth. jeno leans into your touch, tilting his head upwards to look at you.

you meet his gaze, both equally dark and lustful.

“i need you…”

there’s a second part to that sentence that you didn’t voice, but you’re sure jeno can fill in the blanks for himself.

on any other given night, jeno would’ve asked you to finish that statement. but not tonight.

his fingers hook into the hem of your shirt, quickly lifting it up and over you as if it’s the easiest thing to do in the world. he tosses the shirt over his shoulder somewhere—you don’t pay attention. immediately, he continues his trail of kisses down onto your chest, over your heartbeat.

his kisses get sloppier by the second, hands tugging at your waist like you can get any closer physically than you already are.

you can’t help the moans that rasp from the back of your throat as his hands make their way up your torso. the warmth of his palm covering the soft flesh of your chest as he hooks a finger into your bra strap.

he pulls his lips away from you, levelling his face with yours again.

jeno runs a hand down your hair, cupping his fingers over your cheek, “you’re so pretty tonight.” his voice coming out as a low, gravelly whisper.

you try to ignore the skip in your chest from that.

technically, he’s not breaking any rules, or rule. the rule being strictly no pet names. jeno thought it strange when you proposed that no matter what, no pet names are allowed to be used, but nonetheless, he went along with it.

“only tonight?” your eyebrows quirk upwards; not passing up on the opportunity he set up perfectly for you.

he subtly rolls his eyes, taking away his hand and planting it firmly into the mattress next to your head. jeno lets silence fill the next two moments, staring at you with an expression you haven’t seen from him before. much more serious than all the other ones you know.

“you’re always pretty. you know that.”

his words knock you speechless, staring at him half-blank and half-stunned as to how you should even respond to that.

you land a soft blow to his chest, “what is wrong with you?” you tease with the slightest hint of a nervous smile on your lips, trying to cut through the tension you’re feeling all over. “i came to get fucked, not… whatever this is.”

“oh, god forbid i be nice for once,” he sighs, causing you to slap your hand onto his chest once again—him chuckling lightly as a result. “who said i wasn’t gonna fuck you as well?”

he presses a faint kiss just off of your lips before moving down to work the buttons on your trousers.

his fingers tug impatiently at the waistband once the button is undone, pulling the fabric off of you. the cool air blankets your bare thighs, and the feeling is quickly replaced by jeno’s hand kneading your muscles underneath his fingers.

"you want to feel good?" jeno kisses your inner thigh, a heat sparking from where his lips touched your skin. "i'll make my pretty girl feel good."

he pushes the elastic band of his pajama pants down, revealing his lower stomach lined with hard packs of muscle.

jeno kneels in between your legs, hand wrapping around the base of his dick—slowly hardening as he pumps his hand up and down his length.

you watch him, flitting between his hand and his expression. jeno sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. just the sight of his cock in his palm is making your hunger pool in between your legs, knees pressing together as you feel the pressure build.

you don't notice jeno watching you as carefully as you were him until he lets a chuckle fall from his lips. "you do need to get fucked, don't you?" he teases with a smile.

your teeth has been sinking down into your bottom lip even without you knowing. growing desperate just at the sight of him kneeling over you.

"so, are you gonna do it or not?" the restlessness ringing in your voice. you feign reaching for your pants slid halfway down your legs, "'cause i can go find someone who—"

"no, no," jeno grasps the wrist that you reached down with, pulling it back up and pinning it to the pillow over your head. "you're staying right here."

he takes your other hand, joining it with the one above your head. though only one of his hands are holding your wrists together, his grip is so tight that you don't think you can break free even if you wanted to.

he leans in, caressing your cheek with his thumb—so close that you can see each individual eyelash lining the edge of his eyelids. "and who can fuck you the way i do?" his eyes travel to your cheekbones, brushing over it with his fingers, "hm?"

"that's a bit cocky, don't you think?" you say, tilting your head to the side and dropping your gaze onto his lips.

his rosy pink lips curve into a cresent shape. "just asking a question, pretty girl."

you're starting to think jeno may be teetering on the borderline of your rule, but you don't bring it up.

"so?" jeno widens his eyes at you slightly, and you meet him with a mirrored expression.

"what?"

"you haven't given me a name."

truth is, you haven't slept with other people since you started sleeping with jeno. and it's not like you're going to anytime soon. even if you did, you know they simply don't compare.

and the worst thing is you know he knows this, too.

"you're so annoying," you want to nudge him away, but he's got your hands trapped.

jeno only smiles an innocent smile, amused at the sight of you writhing to break away under him to no avail. "i'm not going to do anything to you until you answer the question."

you stare into his eyes, and you’re sure he can see the frustration evident in your own.

“really?” is the only response you can give, dipping your chin and cocking your eyebrows up. the tone of your voice telling of your annoyance.

jeno nods, still with that smile on his face—not giving you anything more.

you roll your eyes.

“no one,” your voice low, almost on the edge of being sheepish.

“sorry, what was that?” he tilts his head, turning his ear towards you.

he’s having way too much fun teasing you like this.

you let out a groan. “fuck you,” you spit bitterly, your voice back up to a normal volume.

he chuckles lightly, “you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

before you can even think of a witty response to his comment, you feel the friction of him dragging the tip of his cock over your clothed cunt.

“it’d be so easy to just put it in,” his fingers slipping into your underwear, “when you’re this wet.”

he pulls his fingers away, leaning into your face once again. “come on, pretty girl,” he brings his hand up to your lips, pushing them through and letting you suck on it, tasting yourself on his fingers. “tell me who can fuck you better than i can.”

he slides his fingers out, dragging along your lips before completing removing them.

“no one,” you mutter, trying to hide the desperation in you with a breath.

he smirks, “good girl.”

he looks down, bunching the fabric of your underwear to one side before grabbing the base of his cock and lining it up with your entrance.

you’re seeing a side to jeno that you haven’t seen before. usually, sex between you was a quick release. half the time it’s like he’s rushing to get through it with how hard and fast he’s pounding himself into you.

but slowly he pushes himself in you—being gentle with you, almost. moans erupting from his throat before he finally fills you up, as evidenced by the outline of his cock bulging up out of your stomach. the sight of it drives jeno fucking crazy—which is why he always fucks you like a dog in heat.

tonight, though, he’s determined to set a different pace.

his hips stills as your pussy swallows the entire length of his dick. no matter how many times you do it, it’s never something you can fully get used to. your back already arched into him, nails digging into your own palms.

“you always feel so fucking good,” jeno rasps, letting go of his grasp on your wrists and placing it on your waist instead.

he pulls his hips back at a steady pace. you feel every inch of it as it drags against your walls.

with your arms freed, you quickly wrap them around jeno’s neck.

he thrusts into you again, hips stuttering as he lets out a breathy moan. his head falls into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning over your skin.

you hold back a cry as he bottoms out, fingers holding furiously onto his shoulders.

jeno builds a steady rhythm, sliding his cock in and out of you—following each thrust with a grunt.

“fuck, jeno,” you whine, thighs clamping tight around him.

he groans, his entire body responding viscerally to his name falling from your lips. and he can’t hold back anymore.

his hips picking up speed as he pounds himself deeper and deeper into you. fingers gripping tighter on your waist and pushing you down on his dick, meeting his thrusts halfway.

he unravels one of your arms from around his neck, laying it out over your head.

“fuck,” jeno lifts his head, leaving your faces mere inches apart. he spreads open your palm, threading his fingers through yours and holding your hand tightly as he keeps up the pace of his thrusts.

your bottom lip is pulled back by your teeth, trying to contain the whimpers and cries that are threatening to escape. you feel the pressure within you building, and creeping dangerously close to its release.

jeno lets out a string of curses, feeling you starting to tighten around him. “baby, i’m gonna—”

with a sudden choke of his words, jeno pulls out. his cock twitching violently as his cum shoots out from his tip, painting your stomach in streaks of white.

the sudden halt of friction leaves your body aching, desperate for sensation again.

your breathing begins to slow as you watch jeno throw his head back, cock still throbbing. looking down, you can see the ribbons of his cum covering your entire torso.

jeno drops his head, seeing the mess he made all over you.

“i’m sorry,” he pants, “i swear to god, you…”

you watch the bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face for a moment.

“‘baby?’” your voice taking on a questioning tone, ignoring your body’s pleading for attention.

“it just came over me, i know—” he breathes heavily, giving your hand a squeeze. “i know you don’t like it.”

“then, why’d you say it?” you sounding more defensive than offensive, surprising even yourself when your voice rings in your ear.

“i don’t know, i—” jeno untangles his hand from yours, pushing his hair back from sticking onto his face. “yn, are we really gonna do this?”

“you broke the rule.”

the bluntness of your statement forces jeno to look you in the eyes.

in all honesty, you’re not upset at this. but just the principle of him breaking the rule makes it appear like you are.

“you have to know,” jeno simply mutters.

“know what?”

“god, yn,” he shuts his eyes, turning his face away from yours for a brief moment. “you think i fuck everyone like this?”

he continues when you don’t respond—how could you even respond?

“you think i even fuck anyone who’s not you?”

jeno’s chest swells as he speaks. he pushes a strand of your hair back, tucking it behind your ear. “i wasn’t being mean earlier when i asked you that question, i—i wanted to know.”

you bite down hard on your lip.

the feeling of not knowing what to say has never settled well within you.

“jeno, i thought we—”

“i know what we agreed on,” jeno cuts you off. “and i’m sorry i crossed that line. you don’t have to—”

“i like you.”

your voice cuts through his. his eyes fixed on yours as he takes in what he just heard.

“what?” jeno’s voice is weak, his face telling of him being caught off guard.

you cup his cheek in your palm, thumb lightly grazing over his cheekbone, “i like you.”

“i thought—”

you press your lips firmly onto his, breaking off the rest of his words. when you pull away, jeno chases after your lips with his own, kissing you like his very life depended on it.

“fuck,” he mumbles against you, letting out a soft chuckle. “you like me.”

you hum as he pulls back, lips glossy under the dim lighting.

“are you saying this is one-sided?” you rib.

a small smirk turns up the corner of jeno’s lips. “you haven’t cum, yet, have you?”

the sudden turn in topic draws your eyebrows together.

jeno moves lower down your body, hands running down the sides of it, until his mouth is hovering over your bare cunt.

“i guess i should show my pretty baby just how much i like her.”

[goldfades]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒, 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍' / 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐌𝐒 ─ QH⁴³

TRACK 7 ─── FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | he was always the first person she calls when she's broken up with her boyfriend. will this be like every other time, or something new?

─ word count | 2.2k

─ warnings | NSFW! smut with lots of plot, so much fucking angst (it's ttpd what do we expect?), mentions of cheating and manipulative (ex) bf, breaking-up, lots of cheating (on reader + kinda quinn/reader but depends on how you look at it), nothing else pretty much

─ ev's notes | yaya! another part!!! WOOO, but this one's an angsty one (but hey, at least this time it has SMUT WOOHOO)

THE FALLING OUT was bound to happen. You knew that at the end of the day, it was just simply fate. You weren't sure what the last straw was, all you knew was that you knew it was inevitable ─ it was supposed to happen that way.

You didn't even know where you were going until you got there. It was a habit, the moment you broke up with your boyfriend, you found yourself on Quinn's doorstep. Your mind was racing and somehow empty at the same time as you raised your fist to knock on his door. The familiar wooden door loomed before you as your hand hovered in mid-air, trembling with uncertainty.

Your hand trembled as you raised it to knock, the thud echoing through the silent night. Seconds stretched into eternity as you waited, the tension thickening with each passing moment. Then, as if on cue, the door swung open, revealing Quinn's disheveled appearance.

His gaze met yours and you offered no explanation, no justification for your sudden appearance on his doorstep. Instead, you simply stood there, searching for solace in the depths of his brown eyes.

Quinn's expression softened, a silent understanding passing between you. Without a word, he stepped aside, a silent invitation for you to enter his home once more.

You entered the familiar home. It's changed since the last time you'd been there, almost six months ago ─ the last time you and your boyfriend had taken a break, which funnily only had lasted a week, but you somehow still had time to see Quinn again.

You sat on his couch comfortably as a silent sigh left your plump lips. Quinn's gaze lingered on your form, a mixture of familiarity and longing evident in his eyes.

Quinn moved to join you on the couch, his presence a comforting in uncertainty that threatened to engulf you. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders.

"You want coffee?" Quinn's voice was rough and low as he spoke. Even though it was well after midnight, he still offered coffee ─ he was a caffeine fein but you didn't mind the bit. He always said the best therapy was warm drinks.

You nodded gratefully in response to Quinn's offer, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. As he rose from the couch, you watched him move with quiet admiration. There was a grace to his movements, a quiet confidence that spoke volumes without the need for words. It was moments like these that reminded you why you had been drawn to him in the first place, why his presence felt like a lifeline in the midst of uncertainty.

Lost in thought, you barely noticed as Quinn returned with two steaming mugs of coffee cradled in his hands. He settled back beside you, offering you gray Canucks mug with a small, knowing smile. You accepted it with a word of thanks, the warmth of the cup seeping into your fingertips.

Together, you sat in companionable silence, the only sound the quiet hum of the night outside and the occasional sip of coffee shared between you. You could feel Quinn's gaze on you after a few minutes and eventually, he spoke up.

"Are you done with him? For good?" Quinn's voice was gentle, yet tinged with a hint of envy. You could sense the weight of his question hanging in the air, the longing for reassurance mirrored in his eyes.

The honest answer was: you didn't know. You never knew, especially not with your boyfriend ─ no, ex boyfriend. You wanted to be done, you wanted to be out of the relationship that truly felt like a prison. But there was always that nagging doubt, that fear of the unknown that held you back from fully committing to moving on.

You struggled to find the words to explain the conflicting emotions that churned within you, torn between the want for freedom and the comfort of familiarity.

"I... I'm trying," you admitted, your voice shaky. "But you know how it is... it's complicated."

Quinn wanted to be angry, wanted to shout out at you and tell you that it would be okay. That he was there for you ─ that you never needed that cheating asshole you call a boyfriend. But he just couldn't, you looked broken already.

So he did what he knew how to do best, touch you. Gently, Quinn reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. Without another word, Quinn pulled you closer, enveloping you in the warmth of his embrace.

He pulled your chin up, for your eyes to meet his. He didn't say anything else, he just leaned in and planted a needy kiss on your red lips.

──

"I don't understand what the hell you mean," Nick's voice was bitter as he averted his gaze from your face. Your gaze was pleading ─ all you wanted was for him to have a shred of empathy, for him to understand you.

Before you could say another word, he threw his fork on the plate causing a loud noise to echo through your apartment. You flinched, the tears that were building in your eyes finally rolling down your cheeks.

"God, I can't even eat in peace anymore." Nick's voice was quiet but any less bitter. He finally met your eyes and you didn't see any empathy anymore, only anger.

You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your fists. "All I asked was for you to was for you to listen, to hear me out, to try to understand where I'm coming from."

"Understand, what exactly?" Nick scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain as he cut you off. "Understand your excuses? Your lies? Your betrayal? I'm tired of it, I'm tired of being the one who always has to bend over backwards to accommodate your feelings."

"My betrayal?" You responded, your hurt turning into anger. "My damn betrayal?! Me? You were the one who cheated on me, while we were together."

"What about Quinn, you think I don't know?" Nick glared at you with pure anger.

"What about Quinn?" You answered with the same tone, your voice tinged with defiance as you met Nick's glare.

"You think I don't know what's been going on between you two?" Nick shot back, his voice rising with each word. "I've seen the way you look at him, the way you act around him."

"I've never slept with him while we were together, Nick. Do you think I'm sick, like you? You've fucked every girl in Vancouver, you think I don't know?" Your voice cracked with the weight of your words.

The accusations hurled between you were like daggers, each one piercing through the fragile facade of your relationship, leaving behind a trail of devastation in its wake.

Nick's expression darkened at your retort. "Don't you dare turn this around on me," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "You're the one who's been lying to me, sneaking around behind my back."

You let out a bitter laugh and now it was your turn to throw the fork in the plate. You stood up from the seat, your heart racing with anger.

Standing up from your seat, you faced Nick with a fire burning in your eyes. "You accuse me of lying? Of sneaking around? Look in the damn mirror, Nick. You're the one who's been cheating, not me."

"You're the one who's been living a lie, Nick. Pretending to be something you're not, while sneaking around behind my back."

The words spilled from your lips in a torrent of pent-up emotion, each accusation a barb aimed squarely at the heart of the matter. You refused to back down, refusing to allow Nick to blame you for your relationship problems.

"I'm done." You grabbed your coat and purse, practically running out of the home. You pulled out your phone, shakily sending a text message.

i need you can i call you? please

He responded within a couple minutes and by then, you were almost at his house.

of course i'm home

──

In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of Quinn's lips pressing against yours, a desperate plea for you. As your lips met his, the weight of the world fell away, replaced by the intoxicating rush of desire that surged between you.

You let him take control, his hands roaming your body. He pushed you down softly, letting you fall back on the couch as he got on top of you. You were breathless as he pulled back from you, his lips pressing soft kisses on your neck.

He pulled your legs up so that you were straddling his waist, while your hands pulled on his ruffled-up hair. You let out soft whimpers as you let him kiss you and take care of you ─ the way Nick never did. His touch was soft, tender and sweet. Every touch was meaningful and filled with care and neediness.

He hadn't felt your touch in months and he was so needy, so desperate but he was still careful and soft. The way you liked, the way he knew Nick never treated you. "God, you're beautiful."

He mumbled softly against your neck, soft praises leaving his chapped lips. Quinn pulled off your shorts carefully, throwing them on the ground before he pulled off his sweatpants.

Wordlessly, you both stripped until you were both naked. He held you close to his chest as he let out a desperate groan, your arms around his shoulders to keep close as possible. He needed you so bad and you wanted to feel him inside of you, to feel him as close as physically possible.

He didn't waste any time, he pulled out his hardened member as slowly pushed into your already soaking hole. He held you close as he bottomed you out, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as a moan fell from your lips. God, how much he missed that sound.

He waited as you adjusted to his length before he began thrusting in and out of you, his movements became more desperate. His hands gripped your hips as he fucked into you, making his own desperate grunts.

You felt so full and you swore this was exactly where you wanted to be, always and forever. All thoughts of your problems were dissipated the moments his lips touched yours and it felt like now you were floating, you and Quinn in your own world. Lost in the warmth of Quinn, you surrendered yourself to the blissful oblivion of the present moment; you felt weightless, untethered from the burdens that had weighed you down.

As the world faded into the background, you allowed yourself to be consumed by the overwhelming tide of emotion that surged between you and Quinn.

And as quick as it started, you felt yourself come close. "Fuck, Quinn. I'm so close," you whined as Quinn grunted in response. He pulled your legs further up, pulling them on to his shoulders so he could you feel even deeper.

The new angle made the knot in your stomach snap unexpectedly, a guttural moan coming out of your mouth as your head fell back. You cried out, tears slipping from your eyes from the pure bliss you felt.

A few more deep thrusts and Quinn's seed was spilling into you, he fell onto your chest quickly. Both of you caught your breaths, your minds empty except for each other.

As you lay entwined in Quinn's embrace, a sense of calm washed over you and in that intimidate moment, you felt the fear of unknown slowly dissipate as you felt Quinn's arm held you close.

With each beat of your heart, the truth became painfully clear: Quinn was the only person who truly understood you, who accepted you for who you were, flaws and all. In his arms, you felt seen, heard, and loved in a way that no one else could ever compare to.

"I don't wanna lose you, never again." Your voice was hoarse and full of emotion. "Quinn, look at me."

As you spoke, your voice trembled with the weight of your emotions, raw and unfiltered. With a gentle touch of his chin, you urged Quinn to meet your gaze, your heart laid bare before him, vulnerable yet overflowing with love. In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming need to express the depth of your love for him.

Quinn's gaze met yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and understanding. "I don't want to lose you either," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper yet filled with a fierce determination. "You mean everything to me."

There was a vulnerability in his words, a raw honesty that came from the depths of his heart. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew without a doubt that he loved you.

With a trembling hand, you reached out to brush away the tears that glistened in Quinn's eyes, your touch a silent promise of the love that burned brightly within your heart.

"I'm here," you murmured softly, your voice a whispered vow of commitment. "I'm not going anywhere."

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[leafzu]

What if Levi left the Survey Corps and ran away with you, far away. Where no one would find the two of you. Only you and him. Living life in peace and solace.

Levi quits the Survey Corps for you after the encounter with the female titan. He lost too much and many important people. He doesn’t wanna lose you too and spend the rest of his life in regret. The world he lives in is cruel. And he wants to spend the remaining time of his life with you, some place far away. Just the two of you.

Levi and you leave quietly one dawn. The sun had yet to rise. It was the perfect time. You both take whatever’s important to you and leave on his horse which he brought back with him from the Corps.

Levi and you settle in a quiet countryside much far away from the Corps or any place that might hold trouble. Move in a cottage big enough for the two of you.

Levi and you open a tea shop together. He makes tea while you bake. Sure, it’s not much, but as long as you both are together, nothing else matters to him.

Levi and you hold each other close every night. This is what he always dreamed of. Your fingers playing with his soft hair, his hands around your waist. You know he has trouble sleeping and his insomnia won’t go away in a day. But still, with you by his side every night, Levi now sleeps better than before.

Levi and you both know how cruel this world is. How uncertain and unpredictable things are. Yet, you both long for that one thing silently. Neither has the courage to bring it up. Worried what the latter might think.

Levi was the first to break the silence.

“How do you feel…about..” “About?,” You tilt your head in confusion. Nervousness swallows him whole. “Levi?”

“Starting a family.”

He wanted this for so long.

Levi while being in a relationship with you, before marrying you, would think about the possibility of you two starting a family. Having a baby. But alas, he always pushed it far in the back of his mind. The world you both live in, bringing an innocent child here? That would be selfish. He didn’t have any childhood let alone a good one. But.. would it really be selfish?

Levi is so much in love with you. He loves you so much that, he wants to share a life with you. Build a family. A family to call his own. His own precious world. Was he being selfish? Was it too much to ask for?

Levi’s heart fluttered when you said yes.

Levi would go against the world for you. You’re his world. He would give up anything and everything just to be with you, for you. The love he has for you is just incomparable to anything in this world.

This world was cruel, yet beautiful. He had you by his side. Sure the days weren’t easy, but both of you tried your best to make it to the next day together.

Levi’s heart stopped the day you told him the news. You were expecting. No, you both were expecting. It felt surreal to him. Like a dream. A very good one. Too good in fact.

Levi’s tight embrace around you expressed his happiness and the warmth he was feeling. He was holding his whole world in his arms.

Levi buried his head on your neck and pulled you closer to him, afraid to let go. He was happy, truly happy. But also scared. This was something too good to happen to him.

Levi who vowed from that day onward that he will protect you and your little one with his whole life. The world was dangerous, but he would make sure his little one doesn’t experience the same fate as him.

Levi who doesn’t let you lift a finger in your current state. Heavy lifting? Absolutely not. He’ll do that. Laundry? Done. Cooking? He’s a good cook so, don’t worry. Just lay down and rest.

Levi who always gets you your cravings no matter what time of the day it is. Be it midnight or early hours of the morning he’s always ready.

Levi who falls in love with you all over again. Watching you carry and grow his child, both of yours child is like something magical to him. It’s like you’re glowing. You had that fresh and vibrant aura that Levi can’t get enough of. You looked so so beautiful. Was it the motherhood glow or his undying love for you? Levi doesn’t know, he just knows whatever it is, he loves you so much and the life you’re carrying.

Levi who showers you with affection. Carrying a child isn’t easy. The journey was both a mixture of joy and hardship. And Levi was with you through it all.

Levi who holds you when you cry in the middle of the night because you couldn’t sleep. You wanted to, but couldn’t. Your body was so tired, but the baby wouldn’t stop kicking. He holds you against his chest, one hand intertwined with yours and the other running softly through your hair. Sometimes he would rub your belly to soothe it. And when you would fall asleep he would still be awake, making sure you’re okay. Sleep wasn’t important to him. You were. And your little one.

Levi who drops everything from his hands when he comes back home to you writhing in pain. “Levi..,” you cry out in pain. “Help…me-”

Levi who is with you during your labor. Holding your hand tightly and giving you words of encouragement and praises. “Almost there.” “You’re doing so well.” “Just a little more, I know you can do it” “you’re so strong.”

Levi who freezes when he hears the cries of his newborn.

“It’s a girl.”

Levi kisses your forehead wiping away the tears you cried and sweat you had to break to give birth to your little girl. Whispering infinite ‘thank yous’. His forehead on yours.

“I love you.”

Levi who cries for the first time after a long time when he holds his tiny little girl in his arms. She was so soft, so warm and so tiny. So delicate that he was afraid, afraid of hurting her.

Levi who melts when his baby girl coos and nuzzles into his arms. She was now someone very special and precious to him. Someone he vowed to protect with everything he had. He gently kisses her tiny forehead. “I’m so in love with you, tiny brat.”

Levi always thought he would end up alone in his life. His mother left him at an early age. Kenny didn’t stick around for long. His two closest friends died and he couldn’t do anything. And so he quit the survey corps. Because he wanted you. He wanted to spend his remaining days with you. He didn’t want to see his hands stained in the blood of his comrades and innocent youths dying.

Levi who wrapped his one arm around you while the other held his tiny little girl. Your head on his chest and you poked the little one’s cheeks. “She looks exactly like you. I love that.” And indeed she did. The little one was a copy of her father. The nose, the lips, her hair, everything. Everything except, “The eyes are yours.”

“I love your eyes.”

Levi loves you eternally. His life felt meaningless at one point to him, losing people close to him. But you brought meaning to that life. Before, Levi would only fight to live, to protect. He had a duty towards the people inside the walls. An oath to keep to Erwin. A responsibility towards his squad. But now, he fights everyday so that he can live, for you and your daughter. He fights everyday so that he can see you and your precious one. He wants to be with you. To grow old with you and watch his little one grow.

Levi wasn’t alone anymore. He has a family, someone to love and cherish for the rest of his life. He has you.

And you are all he ever wants.

I love you Levi. Happy Birthday 🍮 ᥫ᭡

[tsumuus]

Years had passed since UA High, where heroes were forged and futures decided. Bakugo Katsuki had emerged as one of Japan's top pro heroes, his fiery determination and explosive quirk propelling him to success. Meanwhile, you had carved your own path, Denki Kaminari's twin sister, without a quirk but with a sharp mind for business. Fate, it seemed, had intertwined your lives once more when you became Bakugo's PR manager.

In the bustling heart of the city, Bakugo's agency was a beacon of heroism. You navigated through the chaos of press releases and public appearances, your days filled with strategic meetings and late-night brainstorming sessions. Bakugo, ever the hero of action, relied on your expertise to shape his public image, to smooth the rough edges without dulling his fierce persona.

From the beginning, there was an unspoken tension- a current of something unsaid between you and Bakugo. You knew him from UA, where your brother and Bakugo had been classmates. Back then, you admired his unwavering determination from afar, a quiet observer in the background of heroics. Now, in the present, the dynamics had shifted but the unspoken remained.

Bakugo's office was a reflection of his persona- bold, unyielding, with trophies and accolades adorning the walls. On evenings when the city lights painted the skyline in hues of orange and gold, you found yourself poring over strategy documents with him, discussing the next big campaign or handling the fallout of a recent skirmish.

He was intense, passionate about his work, his heroism, and his agency- but there were moments when you glimpsed another side of him. A rare smile when a child asked for an autograph, a fleeting softness in his eyes when he spoke about training the next generation of heroes.

Yet, beneath the surface, Bakugo struggled with words that didn't involve battle plans or heroics. And you, with your own hidden admiration for the hero who dared to dream bigger than anyone else, navigated the delicate balance of professionalism and unspoken feelings.

One crisp autumn evening, after a particularly grueling day of interviews and photo shoots, you found yourselves on the rooftop of the agency building. The city sprawled beneath you, a tapestry of lights and life stretching into the horizon.

"You're doing good work," Bakugo said suddenly, his voice softer than usual, eyes fixed on the cityscape.

You smiled, a small, genuine curve of your lips. "It's what you hired me for."

He glanced at you then, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. "Yeah, but..."

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning that neither dared to voice aloud. There were boundaries, unspoken rules that governed your professional relationship, and yet the heart was seldom obedient to reason.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and the unspoken grew louder in the silence of shared moments. Bakugo's gestures were subtle- a coffee brought to your desk when he knew you were burning the midnight oil, a spare jacket offered on a chilly evening when the wind whispered through the city streets.

One night, as you watched him train in the agency gym- an inferno of determination and raw power- you realized how deeply intertwined your lives had become. The hero, the same boy she once admired from afar, and his PR manager, navigating the uncharted waters of unspoken words and silent glances.

In the quiet of your own thoughts, you wondered if he saw beyond the professional facade you wore, if he sensed the echoes of admiration and unspoken longing that mirrored his own.

But for now, beneath the city lights and the weight of unspoken words, you continued to navigate the complexities of heroism and heart, finding solace in the silent understanding that bound you together.

a/n my first writing for mha so be nice. i wanna get around to writing for more series in addition to haikyuu, so if you'd like to send in some requests about what you'd like me to write i'd be more than happy to because im lowk running outta ideas🫠

masterlist

[katszumi]

“haji?” his name escaped your lips in a whisper.

the lamps from the street lit up the night sky, the stars from above doing it’s best to keep the night awake. still, darkness surrounded the area, only dark figures could be depicted from their eyes.

you could only guess it was close to midnight from the way the moon shone and the cold slap of wind that gushed your way. however, the quick warmth of your face and the rapid throb inside of your chest disregarded the chills.

iwaizumi analyzed you, his eyes wandering your body as if you were a stranger.

“haji, what are you doing here?”

his lips parted, he wanted to answer you, but he wasn’t even sure why he ran to your house at midnight. he just needed to see you.

“my flight is tomorrow.” he announced like you hadn’t known. all of the third years celebrated one final time before his departure, resulting in endless laughter and tears. as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t want to leave japan behind, because you were still here.

“i know. that’s why you should be getting some sleep, you have a long day tomorrow.” you forced yourself to swallow; to eat away the gnawing feelings that were in the back of your throat aching to come out. you didn’t want to put that burden on him, especially at a bad time like this.

iwaizumi dryly chuckled. of course you were trying to care for him, but he could see the wistful look you gave him. he could tell you were tired due to the bags under your eyes, but your eyes were wide with adoration and hope.

he took a step forward, “you’re too kind, you know that?” his words soft. “can i sleep here tonight? i can’t wake up to an empty room, i just can’t.” he rambled.

without hesitation, you widened the door for him to come inside. you knew it probably wasn’t a good idea for him to stay, but, who were you to tell hajime iwaizumi no?

quickly, iwaizumi welcomed the warmth of your home to his body. his eyes traveled the rooms nearby, he took a mental screenshot, because who knew when was the next time he’d be here or if you even still lived here when he’d come back. he wanted to remember as much of you as he could, but he knew the figments of his memory just wasn’t enough.

he followed you to your bedroom, the two of you sitting next to each other on your queen-sized bed. he always loved the size of your bed, it seemed to fit him more than his own bed at home.

“i’m sorry for knocking at your door so late.” he apologized, his eyes finally settling in to the dimly lit room. he could now make out your features that he was so infatuated with.

“don’t worry about it. i’ll always answer the door for you, haji.” and god, he loved the way his name fell from your lips. like you were destined to say only his name only.

iwaizumi sighed, “america is going to suck without you or oikawa there. it’s like i have to start all over again, just without the company of you two.” he confessed.

your hand found his, gently grabbing it and rubbing circles against his rough skin. you could feel the callouses that were starting to form on his palm, most likely from lifting weights.

he allowed you to fiddle with his hands, he found solace in your touch. his eyes closing for the first time tonight.

“you’ll do great in america. you’ll find new friends and new company to keep you busy. who knows, you might even find someone you’re interested in.”

immediately, his eyes flew open, his head turning to face you. haven’t you realized that it was you he was interested in. it was you that won his heart years ago.

“wha—“ you said from his sudden turn, wondering if you said something wrong, but he interrupted you before you could finish.

“i don’t want to do that. i don’t want to find someone i’m ‘interested’ in. it’d be useless anyway.” he murmured the last part.

now your ears piqued at his comment.

“what do you mean it’d be useless?”

he paused. “i’d be searching for you in every girl i’d meet.” iwaizumi declared. “that’s why i’m here, y/n. it crushes my soul that i’m leaving you behind. i want you by my side, i feel empty whenever you’re not.”

you could’ve sworn that you heard a sniffle emit from the male beside you, but you knew not to comment on it, or he’d probably end the conversation right there.

you cupped his cheek with your hand, a half smile forming on your face. only you were able to see this side from him; the affectionate, tender side that no one else have been able to witnessed.

“it breaks my heart you’re leaving me too. but i know you’re destined for great things. but i know you’ll be able to visit and i’ll always be a call away. it hurts me knowing my two soulmates are moving thousands of miles away. but i can’t be selfish, haji. it’s not about me.” you protected your feelings, because you knew if it turned into more, the morning would be too much of a heartbreak.

iwaizumi shook his head. “but i want you to be,” he pleaded. “i don’t want to get on that plane tomorrow morning with regret because i didn’t have enough courage.”

“courage for what?” it was a stupid question. you knew what he meant, but you were so nervous.

“to tell you i love you.” his eyes searched you for any discomfort, the words almost causing him to have a heart attack. iwaizumi knew he was bad with feelings, especially with how he dawned this proposal onto you a night before he leaves for another country.

but if he didn’t tell you now, he wasn’t sure if he would even board the plane tomorrow morning.

disregarding your feelings before, you leaned into his touch, your nose touching his. you could feel his breath hitch, the warmth of him radiating onto you. your free hand cupped the other side of his cheek as you pressed your lips onto his. years of emotions spilled from the delicate kiss you shared, like a river overflowing its bank.

and you two laid there, peppering slow kisses on each other’s faces, wiping the tears that slipped from both of your eyes.

iwaizumi knew more than before that he was so terribly smitten with you, but he wished that his final hours with you weren’t ticking away with a plane ticket to america with his name on it.

—

ahhh there’s nothing like a man who’s bad at expressing feelings till the last minute🤌🏽

[coeurify]

i cant find this req for some reason but here is a ss i took of it.. enjoy ! 18+

Abby was the best roommate. Really. She was kind, always cleaned up after herself, was respectful, and just so quiet.

Abby would likely say the same thing about you, a slight grin on her face as she spoke to one of her friends about how lucky she had gotten with you, and how her friend agreeing to move in with her had been just an oh so perfect decision. How sweet and lovely you were to live with. Her pink lips wet as her tongue licked over them, quieter confessions about how attractive she found you usually followed. Not that she would ever admit that to you, however.

Nor would you divulge the information of just how many times you had shoved your face into a friend’s pillow as you rattled on about how good Abby looked when she came home from the gym, how badly you wanted to be the one she was always leaving the apartment to go see.

Neither of you minded the soft touches when you passed each other, the quiet breaths on your shared couch that always came when one of you pressed a little too close during movie night. In fact, Abby would even go out on a thin tree limb to say you both enjoyed toeing the line between platonic roommate activity and something more.

Most everything about this living situation was just perfect. Except for a tiny problem.

The painted white walls always held a certain hum to them. Whether it be music you tried your best to keep low.. or Abby watching a movie. It always sunk between the foundation between your rooms, echoing the covered walls in a way that had become clear very soon into moving in with your friend. The walls were so incredibly thin, but you thought you had adapted.

Abby always disappeared into her room early most nights, unless you asked otherwise. By midnight on most days, the walls fell utterly silent, aside from a few creaks of Abby’s bed. The night had become your saving grace, the only time you didn’t have to worry about your roommate hearing anything.

Usually.. she didn’t. Tonight, however, the story was completely different.

It didn’t really matter how you had ended up here. Maybe Abby came home with a little extra confidence after the gym today, smiling and leaning over you at the table, questioning what book you had your nose dug into, large arm on full display for you. Maybe Abby sat a little too close during the movie you watched, and stared at you a little too hard during certain scenes.

By this point, you couldn’t even remember what had gotten you to this current place. Your door cracked open, letting in the breeze that came from the air conditioner in the living room, the only solace to your sticky hot skin. Your thighs draped lazily around your favorite pillow, clenching around the soft pink cloth as you ground down into it. The pretty black lace of your panties acting as an added friction for your heated core as you moved your hips against the material. Your mouth gaped open, panting as you let out the softest moans you could muster, sweat shining in the furrowed space between your brows.

On any other day, you would have gone undetected. But tonight, of all nights, Abby found herself in a long battle with sleep.

She had tried every method known to mankind to rest, the early morning ahead a perfect candidate for why she should be squeezing her eyes closed the moment the clock on her bedside flashed the numbers “2:35 am” on the digital screen.

But now? Now Abby was thankful for three things, despite this sleepless frustration.

One, she was happy she wasn’t tired suddenly. Two, she was so fucking delighted the walls of this apartment were thin. And three? Abby was just purely ecstatic that you didn’t know at all how to keep quiet.

Abby tried to be a kind roommate at first. She pressed further away from the wall when she heard the first few soft grunts on the other side of the wall. Hell, Abby even put on headphones and began scrolling through her playlists to find a good set of songs so she didn’t invade your privacy like that.

But the moment she found her finger hovering over the blue-lit screen to begin a song, she heard it.

The softest, whiny calling of her name she had ever heard. It rang straight through the white paint, right over the posters plastered there, and settled sweetly in her ear.

You were moaning her name.

Though she couldn’t see it, her imagination could only assume what you may be doing. What her sweet roommate was doing to herself thinking of her.

If she could see it, your quivering lip, open and panting Abby’s name, again, Abby may have died on the spot. If the blonde could bear witness to the wet spot that dripped through the fabric of your panties and onto the plush pillow... Well, she would have taken you right there.

All Abby had, however, was her imagination, just as you did. Though neither knew the fantasies that plagued both of your minds muddled together just a bit too much.

“Abby,” you whine into the quiet air, a mouth full of saliva— causing another choked sound as you swallow it down, hips pressing further into your pillow. You imagined it was her hands on your hips, leading all of your rushed and messy movements against the fabric.

You squeezed your eyes shut and did your best to paint the picture of the pillow being the blonde’s thigh, that your trembling hands were actually gripping the flesh of Abby’s shoulders as she urged you to keep going. You could almost pick out her tone of voice perfectly, a tape om loop in your mind of her urging you to keep going, ‘c’mon sweetheart... there you go, angel,’ she would whisper against you, lips pressing to your skin just so softly. If you held your breath long enough, you could almost hear it.

Abby, on the other side of the wall, did her very best not to stand straight up out of bed and let her feet find your door. This proved itself a difficult request for both her mind and body when your sounds sped up, growing louder and louder against her very honed in eardrums.

The blonde rubbed her eyes, hands aching to grab something very different. Maybe the fat of your thigh as she pressed them open, leaving you all out in the open for her to admire. Maybe the palm of her hand slapped over your mouth as she pulled you closer to her, humming near your cheek that you needed to, ‘Be quiet for me, doll. You know how thin these walls are, don’t want our neighbors to hear, right?’ She even imagined them pressed impossibly far between your legs, fingers so deep into your aching cunt that one curl would have you gushing around her digits.

Though that night, neither of your nighttime fantasies came to fruition. You had climbed off your poor pillow one mindblowing orgasm later, thighs shaking as you made quick work of cleaning your mess.

Abby stayed silent as possible until you fell asleep, and dug her own hands down into her pants— someone, and some noises specifically in mind.

(random cut off sorry uhh p2?)

[faggot-vampire-dies-epicly]

Love me in spite

Summary: In the dimly lit corridors of a warehouse, Vanessa seeks solace for the haunting memories of her father's legacy—animatronics that once brought joy, now concealed in the shadows. As the newly hired security guard, you find yourself drawn into Vanessa's world, your professional duty transforming into a deeply personal connection. | Words: 3.072K

Warnings: References of child death, murder, trauma, references of manipulation and coercion, references of stabbing, hurt/comfort, some fluff, kissing. Fem!reader.

A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long, writing is way harder than I remembered. I still don't know if I did well, so if you have any advice or compliments or even criticism you can comment. I promise to be quicker with the other releases. Title's from Out like a light by The Honeysticks.

Main Masterlist | Vanessa Masterlist | AO3

After months of job hunting and sending resumes, you were starting to lose hope. You had applied to any possible position just to pay the bills, but still, nothing came of it. 

The day you finally contemplated just giving up, the phone rang. Stunned, you had answered to find a woman on the other end offering a job - night guard at a warehouse. You had never wanted to work in a warehouse, let alone as a night guard, but you were desperate, and the thought of having a salary seemed heavenly, even if the pay was narrowing the minimum wage.

You agreed with the woman to meet the next day at the warehouse and hung up.

The next day you showed up at the warehouse and found a police car parked outside. You frowned, confused as why would a police car be in a place like this. The warehouse's door opened, and a police woman stepped out of the building. Her gaze met yours and she smiled, “are you Y/N?”

Your heart fluttered, her voice was soft and sweet. You nodded and she gestured at you to follow her.

“My name's Vanessa. Vanessa Shelly. I was the one who called yesterday,” she explained as she guided you around the building. You arrived at a room where animal looking robots were standing on a makeshift stage.

“The job is simple, the shift starts at midnight and finishes at six. All you have to do is stay awake, keep an eye on these guys,” Vanessa said, pointing at them, “and of course, make sure no one gets in.”

You stared at the curious looking robots, you had never seen anything like them before. “What are these?”

Vanessa grinned, “animatronics. They were used for children's birthday parties back in the 80s.”

You hummed, getting closer to them to see them better. “How come they're in a place like this?”

Vanessa shifted, a little uncomfortable and sighed, “well, I suppose the owner brought them here for a good reason. It's not part of our job to ask those questions.” She shrugged nonchalantly, you stayed silent.

She stared at you for a moment, “come, I'm going to show you your office.”

“How come you are the one hiring me and not the owner?” You asked, entering the office with her. She hummed. It looked like she didn’t like being asked too much questions.

“Well, let’s say I owe the owner a favor,” she spun around, facing you. “This is your office.” 

You looked around the room, it had just a few things. A bunch of monitors with the security cameras footage, a desk and a chair. 

“Cozy,” you murmured and Vanessa chuckled, making your heart skip a beat. You could feel heat crippling from your neck to your face.

She cleared her throat, “Well, that’s basically it. Remember, no sleeping,” she warned. “Hope you have a good first night,” she turned to you, extending her hand and you shook it. She smiled at you one last time and then left the building.

You had stood there, heart beating wildly in your chest. It looked like it was going to be harder than you initially thought.

It had been weeks since that first encounter and you had grown accustomed to her presence. She would sometimes show up to bring you food or coffee, and sometimes even just to check on you.

After the first night with the animatronics, she had called you to check up on you and you had frantically asked why those things moved. She sighed, explaining everything to you. From the disappearances of the kids in 1985, to where the bodies where.

You had been horrified, and she offered to just pay the night, saying you didn’t need to come back again if you didn’t want to. But you stayed, “I need the money after all,” you told her, and she let out a sigh of relief.

“Why did you want to hire someone instead of leaving them here?” You had asked Vanessa, one of the times she had shown up to bring you food. She sighed, lowering her gaze, “I… I don’t want the kids to be alone. I wanted someone to check on them. I know, it’s stupid.”

You hummed. “I don’t think it’s stupid, I guess it’s kind of sweet?” You said, chuckling. She smiled. 

“Does the owner know?” You asked absentmindedly as you checked the cameras, Foxy was still in his cave, and Bonnie was beginning to move. “Know what?” She asked, her voice cautious. 

“Does he know what’s inside the suits?” 

She shivered, her expression dropping. She looked uncomfortable, frightened. You frowned at her silence, turning to look at her. “What's wrong?” 

She realized she had to tell you everything. And she did.

She told you about her dad, how he had forced her to help him with his crimes, even when she was a child. “He said he was doing bad things to other kids so he wouldn’t do them to me,” she whispered, teary eyed and a knot formed on your throat. 

She told about what happened the last time he tried to harm someone, how a guy named Mike and his little sister, Abby, had saved her after her father had stabbed her. She told you she had spent weeks in the hospital, slipping in and out of a coma. How relieved she felt he wasn’t here to manipulate and harm her anymore, how guilty she felt for that relief. How grateful she was of Mike and Abby, who had understood her, and helped her when she believed no one else could.

And you felt for her. You felt her pain, her relief, her gratefulness. You felt angry, too. At her father for being a horrible person, at the world for leaving her on her own to deal with all this trauma. How did no one ever realize something was wrong?

You hugged her, and Vanessa, sobbing, returned the hug.

After that, you only grew closer.

She would visit more often, smile more, and worry about you. You couldn’t stop noticing the lightness on your chest whenever you thought of her, the way the blood rushed to your cheeks when she touched you absentmindedly as she told you about her day, or how she got closer when she told you something she was excited about. You didn’t know when it started, you just knew it was too late to prevent your feelings from invading your mind and senses.

It didn’t feel like a burden to you, though. You were ecstatic. Every day you were more excited to go to work, you wanted to see her, hear her, be close to her. You didn’t know if she felt the same, but you didn’t expect it either. You knew she still had a lot of things to sort out, and you didn’t want to become one of those things and give her more trouble than what you were worth. You were more than happy being just her friend.

It was a day like any other when Vanessa arrived at the warehouse, unannounced. She opened the door to your office and stood there,keeping a strong grip on the doorknob, looking at you before she had the courage to step in. 

You were in your chair, reading. The animatronics hadn’t been active that night, and you took advantage of that to finally start a book Mike had sent to you as a “welcome gift” as he and Vanessa had put it. You didn’t lift your gaze from the pages, choosing to tease her first. “What can I help you with, officer?” You said, amused.

She swallowed, looking at the floor before looking back at you, a few seconds passed in silence before she gathered the courage to speak. “He's back,” she whispered, her grip on the doorknob becoming stronger. 

Confused, you lowered the book before straightening up on the chair, “who’s back?”

Vanessa sighed, letting go of the doorknob and making her way to your desk, her head low and shoulders slumped. She slowly sat on the edge of the desk without answering your question. Your heart immediately sank.

“Vanessa,” you reached for her hand, “who’s back?”

Vanessa closed her eyes, breathing shakily while squeezing your hand. “My dad. He’s… he’s alive,” she took a sharp breath, “he’s alive and he’s looking for me. For this place.” 

She swallowed. "You need to run away from this place. From me."

You quickly stood up from your seat, grabbing her shoulders in an attempt to ground her. “Vanessa, look at me, okay? Breathe, take a deep breath with me." 

You guided her hand to your chest so she could feel you inhaling and exhaling.

She shook her head, agitated and retired her hand. ”He’ll come. He'll find you. He always does,” she said desperately, tears slowly spilling from her eyes.

She looked so fragile, so small. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around her, maybe give her a kiss or two, but you scrapped that thought quickly, aware that this wasn't a good moment to yearn for that kind of contact. “How did you find out?” You asked. She shook her head again, “ it doesn’t matter.”

“Hey, look at me,” you cupped her face with your hands, her green eyes met yours and she relaxed slightly, her breath starting to calm down. "Nothing is gonna happen to me, alright?"

You slowly brushed away the tears with your thumbs and she closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. You whispered reassuring words to her, as her grip on your shirt eased. But her calmness didn't last long.

"You don't know that for sure." She answered, opening her eyes, her voice still wobbly. 

Vanessa had a pleading look in her eyes that said “please listen to me, please take my advice.” 

You sighed. “Vanessa…” 

There was no way in hell you were going to escape and leave her behind. You just couldn’t.

Her hands started smoothing out the wrinkles she had left on your shirt with her grip, “I know you need the job, but please. This isn't worth risking your safety.”

You frowned. “So you're just going to deal with him on your own?” 

Vanessa tried looking away, but you stopped her, gently placing your fingers under her chin, turning her face towards you and looking into her eyes. You smiled, trying to comfort her.

"You don't have to confront him alone anymore. You have me and Mike by your side."

Vanessa sighed, looking down, “with you, it's different.” Her voice was barely a reluctant whisper, and you had to lean in to catch it.

Vanessa pressed her face against the space between your neck and your shoulder, finding solace in the comfort of your embrace. She held onto you, desperate for warmth, for understanding. You wanted to give her that.

"Vanessa," you whispered. She raised her head, meeting your gaze. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, her eyes glazed and vacant. Your heart ached at the defeated look she gave you, Vanessa had always seemed so strong to you, it was the first time you had seen her act this timid and vulnerable.

“I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to simply leave you behind to save myself. I'm not like that, and you know it.” She let out a soft whine, muttering something about you “being impossible” as she tried to pull away from your touch, but you didn't let her.

“I care about you, Vanny. I really do,” you said softly. Her eyes widened at the nickname.

“I know,” she said, not looking at you, she couldn’t meet your gaze. “But that doesn't change anything. He's still looking for me. He's going to find this place, and you with it, and I won't be able to stop him.” Her bottom lip quivered and she finally pulled away from your warmth.

“I… I just, I just can't let you get hurt for my sake, I wouldn't forgive myself.” She bit her bottom lip, worried. You wanted to look at the beautiful green eyes you had grown to love and tell her she didn't have to worry about you, but she kept avoiding your gaze, wrapping her arms around herself.

You reached out to her again, but she drew away from your hands. “I can take him on by myself,” she offered, giving you a weak and sad smile. “You shouldn't become a part of this.”

“But I already am!” Your voice sounded desperate, you couldn't believe she would rather confront her father on her own than by your side. “Please, Vanessa, you are important to me–”

“You're important to me, too! That's why I want you safe!” Her sudden outburst left you speechless.

“You– you came into my life like a ray of sunshine, dissipating the shadows obscuring my heart and I just can't stand the thought of him hurting you.” 

Her voice broke, tears threatening to spill from her eyes and down her face again. You were shocked, your heart skipped several times and for a moment you thought you were hallucinating.

“You're just so… perfect,” she sniffed, blushing and looked away. You felt your face heat up as you blushed as well.

Your trembling hands reached out for her again, gently cupping her cheeks and she didn't push you away this time. 

She finally met your gaze, eyes wide and shiny. She focused on every detail of your face. “You fill me with a warmth I thought I would never experience,” she mumbled and you felt like swooning. “I’ve felt cold and alone for so long, but your presence is something that warms my heart and my soul. When I'm with you I feel alive.”

Her words and the look of utter adoration she was giving you felt overwhelming.

“Vanessa–” you began to say before she interrupted you. “I think that I… that I'm in love with you,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

You felt like all the air from your lungs disappeared, you couldn't believe what you were hearing. At your silence, she opened her eyes and noticed your shock. She tried to pull away again, giving you an apologetic look, but you spoke before she could.

“I'm… I like you a lot,” you said, breathless. “I've wanted to tell you how I feel, how I've always felt since the moment I first saw you at this warehouse.”

She shuddered, eyes watering again. You let out an incredulous chuckle, “please don't cry, I don't want our first kiss to taste like tears.”

She chuckled and closed her eyes. You smiled and leaned in, pressing your lips against hers. Her lips were soft and warm, and you felt time slow down as you took all in, from her sweet words to her gentle touch. Vanessa tilted her head to the side, deepening the kiss, pressing her lips to yours harder. Her fingers traveled from your shirt to your hair, pulling softly at your strands while one of yours stayed on her cheek and the other found the small of her back.

You pulled her closer and felt her hum against your mouth, and you knew you had to pull away before you got too lost into her. When you did, you felt her breath against your lips and it took every ounce of strength in you to not kiss her again.

You pressed your foreheads together as you tried to process everything. Her voice took you out of your thoughts, “this is the most cliché thing I've ever done,” she murmured and you laughed.

She pulled away just enough to look you in the eye, a small smile on her lips. “I never thought I would be here kissing you and telling you–” she cut herself off, red as a beet, “you know what.”

You smiled back at her, finding her blush extremely endearing. “I know.”

You let a few seconds pass in silence, “so, are you still going to tell me to run away and leave you? Because if you weren't going to convince me before, you definitely won't convince me now.”

Her smile wavered a little. “I… As much as I want this… I don't know if there's any hope for us.”

You stroked her cheeks tenderly with your fingers, humming softly. “I have hope. I can hope for the both of us until you can see the light at the end of the tunnel, too.”

"I don't think I'll ever see the light at the end of this tunnel," she whispered quietly, "I always thought that I'd leave this world with nothing but my fears and regrets. That I would be buried and forgotten, taking my father's sins to the grave.”

Vanessa looked away, "I've spent the past all my life hiding from the world." There was sadness and resignation in her tone, and you wished you could take all that away. "I don't want you to carry my burdens, too.”

“Maybe I can't do much, but I can always offer a shoulder for you to lean on. I can always offer you my comfort. I'll always be here for you. We can get out of this, Vanny. Together.”

Her green eyes met yours, and she blushed again. This time, she gave you a small smile, her eyes sparkling with something you couldn't quite decipher. 

“Together.”

You nodded and took one of her hands.  raising it to your lips, you pressed a tender kiss on the back.

She stayed with you until your shift was over, and you slowly made your way out of the building between kisses and giggles. 

The morning air was cold and crisp, but her fingers curled around yours made you feel warm. She pressed one last quick, tender kiss on your mouth before getting in her patrol car, promising she would call you later and then finally drove away. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world as you watched her car disappear in the distance.

Of course, you were worried about what would happen once her father found the warehouse. Of what would happen and what would you two have to do to avoid disaster and/or getting hurt. All the possibilities flooding your mind. But when you felt Vanessa embrace you tightly, you also knew that as long as you had her by your side, you felt like you could take on the world.

A/N: Reblogs are appreciated.

[fayes-fics]

Happy Birthday, Mr Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict's wife gives him the best possible birthday gift.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, masturbation, vaginal sex, massage, pregnancy.

Word Count: 3.0k

Author's Note: A more romantic fic than my usual. The sweet, soulful artist deserves to be loved and cherished. Enjoy <3

It’s midnight, and a birthday has just begun.

You pad through the house to Benedict’s studio. He is perched on a stool, busy sketching. He often works late into the night when the muse takes him. You pause in the open doorway to watch him work. Admiring his skills as he feathers his charcoal across the page. Admiring him, the movements of his artistic hands, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his braces hanging loose around his hips.

“Happy birthday, my love,” you call softly as you close the door.

“Thank you, my lo…” his answer dies on his lips as he turns and sees you.

Speechless is a good start.

Your skin feels aglow as you bask in his attention, sauntering towards him. His eyes track your every movement. His hand is still suspended in midair, charcoal in hand.

Your gown is totally sheer, the colour of your flesh, its only adornment being tiny starbursts of silver sequins that glitter in the candlelight. You feel beautiful in it, like a walking shimmering fireworks display. With a few layers of chemises, this would be a stunning ball gown; without them, it’s a scandalous sight. Everything is visible through the translucent tulle layers. And you wear absolutely nothing underneath except a dab or two of his favourite perfume.

He still hasn’t said anything, but he is breathing slightly heavily as you draw up to him, his eyes raking up and down your body. You pluck the charcoal between his fingers and place it down on his easel.

“I am the luckiest man in the world,” he exhales quietly, finally finding his voice.

Warmth blooms in your chest, and you smile fondly at his compliment, stepping between his slightly bended knees; one of his feet looped onto the stool, the other kicked out towards the easel. You set aside a little glass vial you came in holding.

“Wh…” he begins, but you hush him with a soft finger to his lips.

“Shh, you don’t need to speak tonight, my love,” you murmur, running your hands into his hair, “just feel.”

His eyes soften and give silent acceptance, and his body relaxes a notch. Even though he finds solace in his art, he’s had a long few days; you want to soothe him and bring him peace.

His soulful blue eyes watch your expressions as your fingertips trail across his cheekbones, curling inwards to brush the back of your fingers down his jawline to his chin, mapping the structure of his face. There are libraries worth of literature extolling female beauty, but you’ve found precious few pieces that capture the truth of male beauty such as his. Your thumb traces gently over his lips, and you ghost a smile as he busses gently against your digit.

You move your hands to outline the shell of his ears, passing his earlobes between your fingers, sweeping down to cup his neck, pressingly on the tension points you feel corded there. He exhales deeply, leaning into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. Tonight it’s all about making him feel special, not just because it’s his birthday, but because he spends so much of his time catering to the needs of others, most of all yours, and he deserves to be indulged.

Splaying your fingers upwards around the back of his head, you enjoy running them into his thick hair. He hums contentedly as you massage lightly. Then his breath hitches as you scrape your nails lightly across his scalp, the skin around his open shirt collar erupting into goosebumps. Oh, the responsiveness is so enchanting.

You lean forward and kiss his lips softly, just a brief touch. His eyes fly open, and he chases your lips as you pull away. He pleads with the most mournful expression, so you relent and press your lips to his again. His hands curl around your shoulders, their sizeable warmth at once both centring and sending you soaring. He kisses back slowly, opening his lips slightly, his tongue requesting permission to yours. Hands still in his hair, you pull closer, deepening the kiss. His arms now slide around your back to hold you close. It’s luscious and languid. Shared breaths and gentle flirtation.

You reach down and tug his shirt up. He assists your efforts, removing his arms from around you and pulling the garment up and over his head. You catalogue the sculpted plains of his arms, chest, and stomach. He is watching your face with a crooked smile; he knows all the telltale signs of your desire. Your tongue feels thick, wanting to run over every inch. For later, you tell yourself.

His brow knits in puzzlement as you circle him, coming to a halt behind him instead. You kiss the back of his neck, running your nose up into his hair, where his natural scent is most potent. On instinct, it draws you closer; your hands curl around his biceps as you press your upper body against him. The rasp of your tulle dress against his shoulder blades hitches his breath and yours, the friction causing your nipples to pebble heavily. Knowing he can feel it too—a little tease of what else will come later.

He is listening intently as you reach for the small glass vial you came in with, opening it and pouring a little oil into your palm. Usually, by now, he would be asking what you're doing, using the velvety tone that makes your body sing. Tonight he is quiet, but one look into his eyes would say everything his lips are not.

Notes of orange and bergamot swirl into the air as you massage the oil into your hands, warming it. His inhale is a sign he recognises the scent from the hours of pleasure in your bedroom. Usually, it is him massaging your body into a blissful state before slipping his fingers inside you, making you come over and over. More derailing thoughts you need to put aside.

You begin by running the flanks of your hands firmly down either side of his spine, all the way from his neck to his waist. His moan is one of relief, not desire, but your body reacts regardless; the sudden want to be filled by him is visceral. Your lips tingle to kiss him again, but you resist the urge, focussing on bringing him serenity.

Feeling the tension easing under your fingers as you work on the knots around his neck is a mutual reward. His breath is deep and even; he shifts to place both feet flat on the floor. You spend many minutes mapping the stress points in his back and kneading the flesh until it relents into a relaxed state. His hums and sighs act as the guide for your progress. You circle back to his front when it seems he is entirely free from any strain.

“Does that feel better, my love?” You know the answer, but asking gives you a moment to indulge your heart, appreciating the blissful look on his face as he nods contentedly.

He pulls you in for another kiss and gently bites your lower lip. The room grows a few degrees warmer, a sparking feeling notching up your spine, radiating out across your skin.

You run your hands heavily up his thighs, admiring the latent power you feel underneath the material, him watching your movements. Your hands reach his hips and pause, waiting for his gaze to meet yours. Then you start unbuttoning; you know he’s not wearing anything underneath today; he often doesn’t when you are home. It’s gratifying to watch his pupils dilate as you twist your mouth into a playful pout with each button relenting.

As you reach the last button, you grin broadly, grab his hand instead, and pull him bodily across the room towards the emerald green chaise. The one you have posed on countless times for him. He trails behind you with a carefree laugh, holding up his britches with his free hand.

“No need for modesty Mr Bridgerton” you tease as you pull him to a stop next to the chaise. He raises an eyebrow and lifts his hand, his britches falling to a heap on the floor. Your gaze descends to his cock, standing proud. So familiar to you now, but every time as tantalising and thrilling as the first time he showed you his body.

“Why do you ever wear clothes?” you think wistfully. Your cheeks flush as his lopsided smile tells you you have voiced your thoughts.

“If the lady wishes, I never will again in this house”, he whispers seductively. “But only if you only ever wear this dress” His fingers trace the neckline of your gown with feather-soft touches. “Or nothing at all.” His lips find the spot just below your earlobe that makes you shiver.

“This evening is supposed to be about me seducing you, birthday boy,” you admonish affectionately, pulling your neck away reluctantly, “not the other way around.”

“By all means, Mrs Bridgerton, please continue,” using that voice he knows makes your knees weak.

“Lay down,” you whisper.

He relaxes back on the chaise, one arm tucked behind his head, with an easy smile, an innate confidence in his nudity. You wish you had his skills to capture this moment on a canvas. You take your time surveying the sight before you, shameless almost in your ogling. Ladies of good breeding are not supposed to be so lascivious, but you can’t help it when it comes to your husband. He is gorgeous to you. And, based on how heads turn when he walks into a room, you are not alone in that sentiment. Not for the first time; you consider yourself very lucky he returned your feelings.

“Penny, for your thoughts, my love,” his arm reaching for you, his fingers gently circling your wrist.

“I was just thinking I am the luckiest woman in the world,” you reply truthfully, echoing his sentiment when you walked in earlier, leaning down to kiss the hand that holds your wrist.

His smile turns almost shy, and he averts his eyes, long eyelashes fluttering as a slight blush colours his cheeks. It makes your heart melt and your pussy clench simultaneously. How he can do that astounds you. You want to wrap him in the tightest, sweetest hug but also fuck him so hard your teeth rattle. What a beautiful contradiction.

“I had all these plans,” you sigh, “but I find myself impatient for you, my love.”

“Tell me about them,” he requests, looking back up at you, his lips tugging into a playful, beautiful crooked grin.

“I planned to tease you for ages, kiss every inch of your skin from your ankles to your hair,” you reply, your gaze tracking up his body again, fingers itching to trail over his contours.

“Sounds lovely,” his voice teasing.

“Mmmm, but,” you hitch up your dress and straddle him, settling your hips on his waist, your dress fanning out over him, your fingers tracing the constellation of freckles on his breastbone, “you are too tempting, Mr Bridgerton, and I find I just want you inside me.”

“That sounds even better,” he admits, his voice rough as he grabs your knee and runs a hand up your thigh under the gauzy layers. His questing fingers slide between your legs, and you moan as he expertly flexes them against you.

You grab his forearm. “No, my darling, it’s you who gets the pleasure tonight,” you counter, gently shaking your head and pulling his hand away.

“But I want to watch you. I love your face when I do this to you,” Benedict pleads, his eyes so beseeching.

“Then allow me,” you offer with a raised eyebrow.

Gathering your dress slightly, you slide your fingers between your legs, loving the wetness you find there, all for him. You moan gently, holding his gaze as your fingers move. His grip on your thigh tightens; you intuit what he is asking for and speed up your ministrations. You bite your lip and groan loudly, not daring to break eye contact. His other hand behind his head moves to grip your other thigh; his Adam's apple bobs visibly as he swallows, and his chest rises and falls more visibly.

“I need you,” his voice breathy and low, “please…”

Your fingers slip from your body and reach behind to grab him, and he groans as you give him a few gentle pumps with your hand before shuffling backwards to line him up with your body. Watching many expressions flit across his face, revelling in his breathy anticipation, you allow his tip inside. His moan is like poetry, and you sink fractionally lower, loving how it feels when he invades your body—the insistent stretch and heat. You roll your hips, eager to envelop him but also to maintain a slow tease. He looks at you pleadingly.

“What do you need, my beautiful birthday boy?” you ask softly.

“Please, my love, take all of me; I need you,” his voice sounds so needy it makes your chest flutter.

You smile as his eyes burn into yours, then sink down, gasping at the hot, plunging invasion pulling you so taunt. The lustful noise he emits makes you pulse around him, which in turn makes him call out your name, a wanton call and response that has you grabbing his hands and placing them on your breasts. The tulle of your dress scrunches against your nipple, sequins catching against your sensitive skin and between his fingers. He slips his hand inside the neckline and grabs your naked flesh as you press into his touch and start to rock gently.

Usually, you talk to each other when you make love, whispering debauched thoughts or just communicating how you feel. But tonight, you enjoy a silent, almost psychic connection, something more sensual and decadent, staring into each other's eyes, saying everything without words. Your movements are fluid but slow and deliberate, savouring the intoxicating feel of him sliding within you.

He lifts your left hand from his body and brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips over the wedding ring you wear proudly. You mirror his actions, taking his left hand, but instead plunge his wedding ring finger into your mouth, sucking it gently, the metal of his ring knocking against your teeth as you rise and fall. Hoping to convey through your actions the depth of emotion and passion you feel for this man.

He groans and drives his hips upwards, sliding even deeper, catching against the top of your channel, your toes flexing at the pleasure that causes. You call his name, releasing his hand, your nails scratching over his abs. Something more carnal, taking you both somewhere frantic.

You surge up and down, chasing all the sensations, his hands running down your back, warm through the layers of your dress, grasping your hips and pulling your down harder into him as your fingernails drag against the ripples of his abdomen muscles. Over and over until your thighs burn, and still, you don't ever want to stop, revelling in the feeling you get every time he nudges that place inside you that makes all the exertion worth it.

You see in his eyes as he is approaching his peak, the desperation for you to join him, making you reach under your dress and touch yourself, him hissing encouragements as you do so. His voice rockets you to the edge, the sonorous rumbling through his body that sweeps you over to a place that is a kaleidoscope of bliss; breath stolen, body tensing and releasing, firing a euphoria in every fibre from your scalp to your toes. Distantly, you can hear him climaxing, his fingers a vice-like grip as his groan turns guttural, and he holds you down fiercely. All his muscles tense in rigid relief as he comes hard. He looks so beautiful in this moment, biting his lip and screwing his eyes shut, that you collapse onto him and kiss his jaw, even biting gently in a way that makes him more vocal and his grip stronger.

Then as the intensity of the moment passes, all is serene as you recover together, breaths evening out, hands laced together. These quiet moments after the passionate storm feel the most intimate—the languid caresses, soft kisses and whispered words.

“Thank you for the most wonderful birthday gift,” he sighs, sated, as you lay atop him, your head on his shoulder, drawing idle shapes on his pectoral muscle with the tips of your fingers.

“A massage and making love are not your gift, my love,” you refute quietly, twisting your head to look up into his inquisitive eyes. “You deserve those and so much more. No, your gift is something else entirely. There is a reason I dressed like this, to look like the nicest gift wrapping that I possibly could,” you explain and sit up, straddling him again.

“I will always think of you as the best gift in my life,” he chuckles happily.

“Not me, Benedict.” You grab his hand and place it on your dress, just below your belly button.

“There is a gift in here for you, my love. It will probably take another, hmm, seven months, but I think it will be the greatest gift you, and indeed I, could ever receive. A beautiful gift we made together.”

His breath catches, and his mouth opens a fraction in surprise; his eyes suddenly go glassy and soft with emotion.

“Are you with child, my love?” he murmurs excitedly.

“I believe I am Mr Bridgerton. Or should I say papa?” you smile indulgently. Suddenly he is sitting up and pulling you into an embrace with his other arm, his lips finding yours.

“This is the best gift ever,” he grins, his eyes damp, his hand cradling your still-flat belly as if it is the most precious thing in the world.

“Happy birthday, Mr Bridgerton,” you beam as you place your hand over his, “from both of us.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld

[stupidfuckingwindow]

highkey wondering if you’d do any kind of smut where ken is actually a cowboy? 🤠

Campfire // Ken

Notes: Thanks, RDR2, for giving me slight help w the setting. I read too much Arthur Morgan porn. I loved writing this, thank you for requesting it.

Content/warnings: Technically public. Ken jerks off in the woods and has no idea you're watching.

Word count: 833

The morning of December 18th, 1899 was particularly freezing. Snow packed on top of roofs, so tightly pressed together that it became hard; almost so like ice. But the nights and mornings got harder and worse in the north- Way up in the mountains and stuck in some dead little abandoned mining town near a frozen-over lake. Run up here by the law for a robbery turned out to be a set-up was something you had regretted deeply, cold long having seeped past your skin, and powdery snow falling through small cracks in your wooden shelter. The move had brought chaos- Separated you from your gang until you were lost.

The only solace brought to you is the man who'd stumbled upon your camp. Neatly combed blond hair and a pretty, shaved face was Ken- Some little outlaw from some ways east, wanted alive for a few meager thefts and no gang of his own (or, so he'd told you, anyway). You'd seen a couple posters warning folk, his bounty a good 30ish dollars across one to two states. Ken is suspiciously too sweet and naive for an outlaw- Taking everything you told him as gospel. You force your worry down your throat and run with his all too trusting attitude, noting the gun on his hip. But if push comes to shove, you suppose you and Ken will shoot each other and bleed out in the cold if you have to.

He insisted on following you back to your gang in the following days, when the law's frenzy was beginning to die down and before bounty hunters would start prowling the roads in search of their next payload.

Ken is surprisingly quiet, as his horse trails a little ways back from yours. His curious nature draws his attention to every noise, focus darting all over the place between what few creatures are out and about. He doesn't ask you anything about all the new little things- Ken lets his eyes do all the prying and studying. He watches as the trees change along the way, forests going from the cold-resistant pines to leafless willows and oaks. He gets especially excited when the two of you pass any wild horses, and only then does he ramble on about all the pretty colors and different kinds of species. About how his favorite kinds of horse are the fast race horse species, so he can travel better and see everything.

Over the course of three days, you and Ken are forced to camp together. While you make the fire, Ken sets up the tent with practiced ease, like he'd done this a thousand times over. And he probably has, you think. The heavy storm clouds have you and he anxious, huddling in his small tent together with the heat of the campfire warming the both of you.

He gains confidence once the clouds roll past without rain, climbing out of the tent to better sit by the fire. He sticks a sliver of some big game animal's meat on the end of his knife, holding it close to the flames in order to cook it. Ken offers you a piece, and you take it. Still, despite his kindness, you're suspicious. Worried he might hurt you, and cautious he'll try if you sleep in the same tent as him. You don't say a word to Ken as you lay on your side, back facing him and revolver close by.

But your attention is caught and you're startled awake hours later, in the depths of midnight.

Ken's climbed out of his own sleeping bag, gone. Panic strikes you, seeing as his boots are gone from the tent entrance. Your worry is dampened only slightly by the sight of his horse still being here, but there are still worse dangers in these woods for him to just be alone. As you clamber out of the small sleeping space, you spot tracks in the dirt- Undeniably Ken's trail. The longer you follow his tracks, the more you hear it.

Groans that he probably thinks are quiet. Whines and moans that were probably supposed to be muted or muffled but aren't. And when you finally see him, he's lit by the soft golden glow of his lantern, eyes shut tightly and erection in hand. Ken's mouth hangs open, quietly panting. His strokes are slow and sweet- Methodical as his long fingers squeeze gently at his cock. Ken's bangs fall over his eyes as he hunches over himself. When his eyes do flutter open again, they're fixated on the way his hand moves.

His hips buck against his hand ever so often, palm curling further around his cock. His thumb rubs at the sensitive tip, swiping a bead of pre-cum from the slit to use it as lube. Again, he whines at the feeling. A shuttering breath leaves him, head falling back and hitting the tree he's propped himself up against.

You can't look him in the eye in the morning.

[promptthebear]

🐰 Edmund Pevensie #14 please

Edmund Pevensie x Reader- "Please, tell me this is not why you woke me up.”

Part 1/2 <- ***UP NOW!!!!***

Summary: Soulmate AU. Set during the "Golden Age", Edmund thinks he's doomed to be alone for the rest of his life. Until his fated match appears in the most unlikely of places. 2nd person, reader is written as "you"

A/N: Hey guys, sorry I've been go so long. Part two for this is literally being written right now and will hopefully be up very soon. I just thought I should give y'all SOMETHING to end the dry spell. Enjoy!

TW: None that I know of, but please message me if you need something tagged.

Rain was falling in sheets outside his study window, and the sound of the drops against the panes had soothed Edmund into a light doze. It was late, most likely past midnight, and his candles had burned down to almost stubs in their holders. He’d been reading for hours, lost in tomes of Narnian history and retrospects on ancient magic traditions. As fascinated as he’d been, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from growing heavy, and the blue velvet chair felt almost like a lover’s embrace.

Not that Edmund would have any idea what that actually felt like, though he could muster up a pretty good guess. Over the years, he’d watched his brothers and sisters find partners, wed, and have children of their own. Even little Lucy had been married last summer, leaving Edmund as the last bachelor among the family. That was one of the many reasons he’d been taking solace in his study over the last few weeks. He was plenty used to being alone, but there were only so many nights in a cold bed one could take before it started driving him a little mad.

Another man may have sought out comfort in the village pubs, but the idea of a hot, stuffy room and the press of drunken, sweaty bodies held about as much appeal to Edmund as driving straws under his fingernails. So, instead, he filled his waking hours in the company of books, often choosing to fall asleep among them than make the long, solitary walk back to his dark and empty chambers. This would be the third night in a row he’d spend here, and regardless of how Susan chided him that sleeping in his chair would ruin his back, Edmund also knew it wouldn’t be the last either.

A sudden, sharp rap at the door startled the young king from his near stupor. With a snort and a grumble, he rose from his chair, rubbing at his stiff muscles and silently cursing whoever chose to disturb him at this hour.

The hallway felt far too bright after the dim, golden light in the library, and for a moment after he opened the door, Edmund stood there, dazzled and blinking away stars from his eyes. When his vision cleared, he found himself staring into the face of one of the city guards. The young man seemed nervous, shifting from side to side and not quite able to meet Edmund’s gaze. Aside from the familiar uniform, the young man was little more than a stranger to him, and Edmund wondered why the captain would have sent someone so young to speak with one of the high kings.

“Your majesty. I beg forgiveness at the disturbance, would this matter have waited until morning I assure you I would not be here now.”

His voice betrayed his age, confirming Edmund’s suspicions that he was a new recruit, barely older than sixteen and almost twelve years his junior.

“Speak your piece and be on your way,” he replied, running a hand over his face to try and clear away any drowsiness that still clung on “It is far too late for either of us to be away from our beds”

The guard jumped at the sound of Edmund’s voice, and did some sort of half nod, half bow that made him look like a fish jerking around in a net.

“Again, my most sincere apologies your majesty. Once more, if it were not for the urgency of the situation I would not have caused you upset. My captain insisted that you be spoken with directly and that this message reach no ears but your own. I tried to tell him you’d be abed by now but-”

“Out with it, lad. The longer you speak, the longer the hour grows and the more weary I become.”

The edge to his words almost made Edmund wince. He hadn’t meant to be so sharp with the boy, but Susan had been right. Spending nights in his chair had made him incredibly sore, and had kept him from having a decent rest for far too long. The combination of both was not providing him with an overabundance of courtesy.

“We caught a pick pocket, your majesty. In the market, earlier this evening.”

Edmund reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying desperately to ease the throbbing that was starting to grow behind his eyes.

“Please, tell me this is not why you woke me up.”

Yes, Edmund acted as the King’s Justice and presided over all cases brought into court, even trifling ones like pick-pocketing. However, as far as he could tell, there was no reason something that simple would bring a guard to his door in the middle of the night.

“It is, your majesty”

“And? Have you all suddenly forgotten how to do your jobs? The thief can spend the night in lockup with your other petty criminals, and I’ll be there to preside over their trial in the morning. If that’s all you came to tell me, then I suggest you be on your way before I take it upon myself to serve you with a demerit and suspend you from service for the next week.”

The door was halfway closed when the young guard’s boot wedged itself between the door and the wall. Edmund stared down at it for a moment, trying to process the sheer gall of this otherwise seemingly placid young man. Nobody, in his recent memory, had ever kept him from closing a door when he wished. If he wasn’t contemplating sending this man to scrub out the barracks privvies for the rest of his natural life, he almost would’ve been impressed at his tenacity.

“Alright, that does it, I’m giving you until the count of three to get out of my sight and if you aren’t gone by two then so help me-”

“She has the mark, your Majesty”

It felt as though someone had just dumped a bucket of freezing water upon Edmund’s head. For a moment he stood, still as a statue while his mind raced at frantic speeds to try and make sense of what he was hearing. The lad had to be joking, there simply was no other explanation. This was all part of an elaborate prank someone was pulling on him, like Peter maybe, and Edmund would walk all the way down to the dungeons only to find a sow or donkey painted with a mark that matched his own rather than the girl he’d been promised.

He opened his mouth to tell the young guard he was a liar, along with a few other choice phrases, only to find his voice had left him. What was the worst that could happen, if he followed this boy? Experience told Edmund that he could end up being the kingdom laughingstock the next morning, but what of it? Most of his subjects, noble and common alike, either ridiculed him behind closed doors or pitied him to his face, which was somehow worse. The Lonely King, they called him. A solitary man in a world where everyone was fated to find their perfect match at some point or another. Would a lifetime of isolation be truly worth avoiding a few moments of ridicule?

The carved animals in the wooden door stared blankly back at Edmund, and though the flickering candlelight made their faces seem to dance and move among the shadows, they had no more answers for him than the young King had for himself. With a sigh, he clasped the edge of the door and pulled it open. It creaked loudly, a sound made louder still by the otherwise hushed air in the sleeping castle. The young guard waiting beyond started at the noise, and took a step back towards the far wall as though he expected Edmund to leap out and bite him.

Now standing in the full light of the hall, Edmund saw in earnest how young the guard really was. He may have been a youth of sixteen, but he had the face of a twelve or eleven year old, making him look like a squire rather than the soldier he was. A light dusting of fuzz across the boy’s cheeks, a hint of a beard, was the only thing to suggest he was near manhood and it made Edmund feel all the more guilty for being so hard on him.

“Come on,” he said, clapping a friendly hand down on the guard’s soldier as he moved past him “Let’s get this over with.”

[coriannawrites]

Side Chick Ministries: Tales From Homewreckers. Pt 1

Gratuitous cheating from MC to their unnamed partner, talk of sex.

Feel free to pint out any errors!

Barbatos, Lucifer, Asmodeus and Leviathan

My personal opinions of who could be side chicks and not, and how they’d handle it.

Starts off as a side chick, elevated to main relationship

You didn’t think you’d find solace and comfort in Lucifer’s arms, sneaking kisses in his study, a glass of half-drank Demonus on the table. Lucifer always had a special room in your heart, but by the time he confessed to you, you already had a lesser demon partner hanging off your every word.

What’s a Casanova MC to do? You really liked Lucifer, but a part of you felt some form of pity to your current partner. It’s the Devildom, you can have it all— and that’s what you resolved to do.

If you really cared about your partner, you’d have broken up with them. Not started an illicit affair with Lucifer. You thought he’d say no, had put the idea out there half as a joke. But he’d just smirked at you, and said you would find yourself in his arms soon enough.

As the embodiment of pride, there’s nothing more ego boosting than usurping a relationship and being adored. Yes, he could kill your partner with ease, but that’d rob him of the chance to see you throw yourself at him.

There’s nothing more energizing than seeing the downtrodden face of the “main chick” who thought they were better because they had an official title. Lucifer’s surprisingly fine with starting off as a side chick, and even happier when you finally break it off with your pest of a partner.

This demon lives to serve. He’s resourceful and adaptive, years of being Diavolo’s right hand man priming him for the position of second best. Barbatos is undoubtedly patient, intent to slowly court and woo you with flowers and tea. If he gets the time.

When Asmo rattles on about your newest tryst-turned-partner, Barbatos ups the ante. He’s happy to be the shoulder you rant to, whispering to Asmo to send you his way whenever your troubles weigh you down. He’s thrilled to mess with your partner, so they can turn their anger against you and when it hits the fever pitch, when you’re filled with indescribable rage and want some form of sick revenge, Barbatos is happy to be your outlet.

Isn’t it much nicer, when your partner isn’t shouting at you all the time? Barbatos is discreet, too. Absolutely no one will know, so don’t worry your pretty little head about your partner finding out.

Why care, actually? They don’t deserve you, nor do they kiss you as well as Barbatos does. Frankly, they’re a bit unreliable compared to him. Why lie to yourself and deny that you prefer the taste of the demon prince’s right hand?

It’s not long before you parade a new, much higher quality boyfriend.

Side chick, never elevates.

Leviathan is pathetic. You knew that already didn’t you? That’s why you interrupted his midnight raid, urging him to confess his feelings for you. It’s fun to see Levi squirm, stammering about you “having a partner” and “that he’s not good enough”.

Deep down though, he’s exhilarated. Have the curses he’s been putting in your partner working? Are you finally going to realize how shitty they are, and choose Levi instead? He’s been green with envy ever since you paraded your new partner around. Levi was so sure you had something going on, the secret kisses and giggles you shared in his room must’ve meant something!

Delusional he was, paling when Asmo bragged about you leaving the single club. But you’d still crawled into his room that night, shared a kiss and left his heart pounding.

What are you guys? Levi’s not sure, he’s your secret at best, the guy you turn for when you want to touch and nothing more.

But this is more than he deserves, even if he desperately wants you to show him off. He’ll take it.

You should reconsider having him as a side chick

Sure, Asmo can be your side chick. A quickie, a hump in the dark, a kiss at night. It’s only naturally that you can’t resist the Avatar of Lust, tripping over yourself to be in his eyes. Your relationship had been a bit stagnant, your partner not fully giving you what you wanted or needed. But you liked them, you think? That’s why you haven’t broken up yet.

It’s not your fault you preferred Asmo’s touch and caresses to being a faithful partner.

And well, Asmo’s never been one for being discreet, you know. It’s awfully rude to try and make him hide away his beauty, to skulk away in the dark.

So when you tiredly wake up to your phone buzzing, your partner demanding to know what Asmo’s latest Devilgram means and why you were in his bed, half-naked… you know your little secret affair is over.

Not that Asmo minds. More Devilgram posts for him!

[ficthots]

2F

A/N: Josh is an annoying neighbor. Come on, we all know it's true. This is what it would be like to be his neighbor. If you're lucky. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT. DNI if you are under 18. 18+ content only

Word Count: 8.2K+

Manors. You are taught them from an early age and if you are a gracious person, they stick with you throughout your adult life. Most people with common decency and respect for others can even mutter out a please and thank you on their worst days. These small things are ingrained in you from such earlier times that they truly become second nature at some point, simply transforming you into being a good person. 

The bigger person. A phrase you had heard since your mother first said it to you when you got in an argument with a school friend about them taking your Lincoln Logs without asking. Your mom had sat you down once you had gotten home from school that day and said while she understood how upsetting it could be, that you needed to try and see it from their point of view. Perhaps they didn’t realize you were using them or they thought you were done. Go back to school tomorrow, be the bigger person, and forgive them.

That mentality had followed you through life thereafter. You reconciled with your friend and were now able to apply that mentality to many petty disputes from then on out. However, being the bigger person is not always the best option. 

Take for example, your incredibly shitty neighbor that lives directly across the hall from you. That prick of a human being did not have a sensible or courteous bone in his body. It has been going on for months now. The incessant throb of a bass that jolts your walls and nearly knocks your favorite mugs from your shelves. A screeching of a voice that you cannot make out the words they are attempting to belt out, only offering a migraine. Starting near eight or nine every night and going well past midnight. 

After bitching to your mom on the phone for the millionth time, she suggested approaching them as kindly as possible. Let them know they are kind of disturbing the peace and move forward. The thought of crossing the hall and actually speaking to them for the first time ever had you on edge. 

You were going to try the friendly approach. Being a non confrontational person meant slipping an anonymous note under their door, a nice message and asking to keep it down attached to it. It did not work. A small bout of hopefulness spread through you as the music came to a halt that evening, letting the blood rushing in your ear to cease for only a blissful minute before starting right back up.

Being the bigger person. You had tried that. Attempting to see it from their point of view. There is a chance they did not realize how loud they were actually being. Offering a peaceful chance for them to quiet down, letting their neighbors think again. That was the entire purpose of the note. No embarrassing or awkward conversations between strangers. You truly thought it would work and they would realize their actions were actually quite rude and attempt to be a better neighbor.

Nope. Nada. Zilch. 

Whoever they were picked it right back up. A small, frustrated yelp left your throat. You were shocked that they had so blatantly ignored the pleas from their desperate neighbors. Was it too much to ask that after a long day at work to come home, watch trashy television, or simply read a book in quiet solace? No, it was not. 

And whoever was living across the hall was fucking that up. You didn’t even know their name. Only knowing them by the marking next to their door. 2F. You had never even seen them either, working opposite schedules obviously. Sometimes it seemed like they were gone sporadically for weeks at a time, signaling their arrival once again by the vibrating floors. 

You had reached a breaking point one night. What had been occasional night time music thundering in the building had seemingly turned into a near twenty-four seven parade. You attempted to ignore it to the best of your ability, even making yourself a nice cocktail after a rough day at work. 

It felt like you couldn’t escape it. Far too chilly to enjoy your patio, you wandered through the rooms of your apartment, trying to find any break you could from the incessant noise that seemed to follow you like a shadow of death. 

They had been home for weeks now, more than likely unemployed you assumed by the constant, never ending noise streaming from their home to yours. At first it had been the same as it normally was, annoying, but at least you were used to it. Until you woke up one morning to it. After that, it seemed to never stop. 

This particularly shitty day had you on edge, wanting to come home and soak in the tub, read a smutty novel about a mafia boss forcing an arranged marriage, and then fall asleep a tad bit tipsy. You were already working on the latter of your wants, second mixed drink in your hand and nearing its end. 

It was a Friday afterall. 

Your plans had come to a screeching halt when you arrived home and you could literally see their door slightly shaking. “Be the bigger person,” you whispered out, hand clutching your door knob and entering your own apartment. You tried. Truly you did.

As you had called it quits on the alcohol for the evening you knew you needed to get some food in your system or it was going to become a sloppy night. You made dinner, sat down to enjoy it, trying your hardest to tune out the high pitched wailing crossing the hall that was forcing its way into your space.

But when you missed what one housewife had said to another during a heated argument in Bali you had reached your limit. Feeling more confident with the liquor still in your system, you were nervous to approach them, but it needed to be done. It was time to teach the douchebag some manners.

Slamming your bowl down on your coffee table, standing from your sofa, and walking across the small hall to their front door, your fist connected with the wood, pounding on it repeatedly until the mystery person opened it. 

A curly, almost mohawk of a style sat atop his head. Some sort of beads swayed with his movement, moving across his bare chest, sweats hung low on his hips, his bare feet crossed as he leaned on the door. A large smile greeting you displaying the complete opposite emotion you were currently feeling. “Hi there!” He spoke loudly, excited and eager to speak to you. 

“Do you understand how loud you are? It has been months of listening to this every single-” you were nervous, trying to get your trembling hands to stop the shake, but he cut you off as you started your tirade. “You’re the note!” His smile somehow grew bigger, reaching behind him and grabbing the piece of paper from what you assumed was an entryway table behind the door. 

You nodded, starting back up, irritated that he had interrupted you whilst speaking. How incredibly rude. This kid seriously had no idea what manners were.“Yes and I tried being nice about it, but you obviously don’t seem to comprehend that you live in an apartment meaning you share walls-,” his eyebrows furrowed at your wording, the tip of his tongue poking out from behind his teeth. 

“We don’t share walls.” He had cut you off. Again. Your nostrils flared slightly at that, using that observation as your point of reference. “Exactly. We don’t share walls and yet mine are vibrating every day because of your music that you’re blasting. You can’t even pause it for a conversation!” A laugh escaped you at the end, arms crossing in disbelief at this guy. 

He rolled his eyes, smile never leaving his features as he grabbed his phone and hit pause. You took in a deep breath, already feeling the tension releasing. “It’s late, I got home from a crappy day at work, all I want to do is get some sleep and I cannot do that with you blasting whatever it is you listen to. Honestly, it sounds like the same song over and over which I mean power to you if that’s what you like to do, but please, just turn it down.” He hummed at your response, opening his notes app as you spoke. 

“Sounds the same,” he mumbled, typing that into the note. His eyes darted up to meet yours after he slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Did you say you were going to bed? It’s 9:30, grandma.” You gasped in surprise at his harsh judgment. “Listen,” he leaned to the side to see around you and squinted his eyes, “3F. You seem to be the only person that has a problem with this. I actually share walls with 1F there and they have never complained. Seems to be a you problem,” your jaw hung slack at his words. 

You narrowed your eyes to slits as you stared at him. “Just keep it down, asshole.” His eyes went wider, a scoff of a laugh billowing from his lips. “Ouch, 3F. That wasn’t very nice.” You turned on your heels, entering your apartment and slamming the door behind you. 

The music started right back up. The same song on repeat for the remainder of the night. You weren’t sure when it ended, deciding to sleep with your duvet entirely covering your head, but you knew it carried on late. You could tell by the endless tossing and turning all night. When you looked in the mirror the next morning, the deep bags that sat under your eyes confirmed it. 

You hated him.

Sitting at a dimly lit table in a dimly lit restaurant with your best friend meant you were struggling to view the menu. She grabbed it from your hands, putting them on the table and smiled at you. “Don’t worry, I know what we’re ordering.” As she quickly spewed your order to the server, you sat enjoying the low chatter and jazz music that flowed through the room. 

See, this was a respectable level of volume. 2F should take notes. Your eyes darted open as she slapped her hands on the table top. “What’s up with you? You look exhausted,” she sipped from her cocktail as she eyed you. “Wow, thank you, that’s exactly what I needed to hear today,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing a piece of bread and tearing it apart, stuffing it into your mouth. 

Her laugh echoed in the space, kicking you lightly under the table. “You know what I mean! Seriously, what’s up?” You sighed, leaning back in your chair as you chewed. “My shitty neighbor won’t stop playing his shitty music through all hours of the night. Last night was the second week in a row of it.” She nodded in response, checking her phone as she intently listened to you. 

Ha ha. 

“Report him. It’s a lease violation. Email your property manager and it’ll stop literally that day. Look at Shelby, can you believe she’s pregnant?” She leaned across the table, shoving her phone in your face, but all you could think of was how great of an idea it was. 

As she spent the rest of her evening gossiping with you hardly contributing to the conversation, you drafted out an incredibly detailed email to send to your property manager. 2F was going to shut the fuck up. He was going to be told to. By someone other than you. 

You sent the email the next morning, listing all of the hours that the music had been playing and how incredibly disruptive it was even after you had asked him to keep it down. You received a response within an hour saying that they were going to handle it. 

Entirely unsure how long you had been perched on a barstool next to your front door, offering a great view of your peephole, you felt giddy. Were you waiting to see if he was going to be getting the violation? Absolutely, and you were doing so with a drink in your hand, occasionally peeking into the hallway to see if it was happening yet. 

When your property manager appeared, you scooted the chair away from the door, too excited to sit, instead standing with either hand on the door, eye glued to the small view of the scene playing out in front of you. 

Watching through your peephole you sensed victory as a lease violation was, in fact, handed off to him. You cheered, a tad bit too loud, because once the noise escaped you, his eyes darted across the hall setting sights on your door. 

Your hand clamped down on your mouth, cursing yourself for being so stupid. When he knocked, your eyes went wide. Pretend you’re not home, you thought to yourself. “3F, I know you’re home. I literally just heard you,” your eyes squeezed shut, muttering a silent fuck. 

Opening the door, his fuming gaze met yours. “Hi, happy hump day to you. What can I do for you?” You gave a large smile, happy to finally feel in control of the situation as he held up the paper. 

“A lease violation. Seriously? You know this is a $145 fine, right?” You shrugged, acting as uninterested as possible, motioning your head down the hall to the other lone door on this hallway. “Don’t know. Maybe 1F got tired of it. Anyways, not my problem, but you have a great night.” A look skirted across his face that said do you really think I’m buying that before he spoke up, again.

“You know if you had asked nicely I would have gladly been more accommodating-” you cut him off, holding a hand up as you did. “Oh, I did! You chose to ignore it!” He shook his head, a small chuckle falling from him. “No, you did not. Slipping an anonymous note under my door, demanding that I be more quiet is not a friendly way of handling the situation.” 

You stood staring at him in astonishment. That’s not what you had done. The note was very well thought out and precise in how you worded your request. Did you include the specific rule from the lease? Sure, but how else was he supposed to know it was against the rules? 

He started back up, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So, now you’ve asked for it.” Your brows drew together, scoffing in response. “Look dude, all I want is to come home and relax after a day of work. You ruin that,” he shrugged at your words. “And that noise is my work.” 

You couldn’t contain the gut punching laugh that fell from you at the absurd claim. “You’re telling me that being loud is your job?” He nodded his head, bottom lip lightly pushing out as he did. “You haven’t even asked my name 3F,” your arms crossed over your chest. “Because I’m not interested in knowing it. 2F suffices.”

His head slightly tilted at you, emotions displaying as he thought. It was like he was trying to figure you out. More than likely trying to figure out all the possible ways to piss you off. “Well, I would like to know yours.” You shake your head, deciding to end this conversation, stepping back into your home and closing the door with a no thanks being offered to him in return. 

2F had said now you’ve asked for it. What the hell did he mean by that? That’s what all of your thoughts had been about since you had closed the door in his face. It had been a little over a week since that day and despite the normal abhorrent noise, nothing else had happened.

Until you received a knock on your door.

Confused because you weren’t expecting anyone, you opened the door, a large smile gracing your face as you saw your property manager there, he offered a sad smile as he took you in. “Hi, Mr. Jameson! How’re you?” He sighed, a folded paper in his hands as he looked at his shoes. 

“Great and I’m sorry to be doing this, but I have to give you this and advise you to heed it well.” Your face must have displayed how muddled you were feeling because he sighed again, turning and walking down the hall. 

You opened it right there, crumpling it in your hand and storming across the hall, banging on his door as you did. When he pulled it open, his head had a tilt and a smirk on his stupid smug face. “3F! What brings you to my neck of the woods this fine evening?” You shoved the paper in his face, knowing he couldn’t read it because of the state it was in and the close location to his face, but you didn’t care.

“Disorderly conduct of a neighbor! Are you joking? This is literally what you do every single day,” he tsked at you, pulling his phone from his pocket as he did. “No, that’s what you do. According to the lease you are not to pester and harass your neighbors which,” he looked back up at you from his screen, “is exactly what you’re doing right now.”

You huffed, feeling anger coursing through your veins as you stared at the devilish little man. “I am not harassing you!” He sighed, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest as he did. “I mean, you are. The note, the first interaction, storming over here and pounding on my door, that’s harassment 3F.” 

He couldn’t contain the laughter being held in his throat as he saw how irritated and befuddled you were. “You are such a dick.” You mumbled out, going back to your own apartment. Not only had he cost you your sanity, but actual money. Paper currency. He wasn’t going to get away with this. 

Absolutely not. For the next two weeks the noise never ceased. You kept your distance though, not particularly fond of getting another lease violation charge added to your account. Instead, you took another route. 

Being the bigger person, of course. You frosted the last cupcake, smiling at how uniform they all appeared. It was your olive branch. You were known for your baking, every holiday season you were asked to bring some form of baked goods. It was relaxing and a sort of therapy to you. 

As you knocked on the door, it opened with a woosh of air and you offered a kind smile to him. The kindest one you had yet. The tray was balanced on both your hands, a dozen cupcakes sat on it, and you could see he was taken aback by the offering. 

“Look, I apologize. I am the type of person who prefers ambiance and low volume noise compared to blasting whatever it is you play. Everyone has their preferences, I get it. Here is my peace offering.” You handed the tray over to him, pointing to one that sat in the middle. 

“Eat that one first, it’s my special recipe that everyone raves about. I don’t make it for just anyone so enjoy it.” He was dumbfounded, standing there holding the tray, speechless for the first time since you had met him. “Thank you!” He called out as you shut the door behind you.

The son of a bitch didn’t even attempt to apologize. Instead, he just took the damn cupcakes without even so much as the beginning of an apology. That’s why you didn’t feel bad. Not in the slightest. 

When he appeared at your door the next morning as you were leaving for work, you were surprised to see him up. Well, not that surprising. “You fucking poisoned me!”  You rolled your eyes, locking your door and adjusting the bag on your shoulder. 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It was a little miralax in the one singular cupcake,” you checked the watch on your wrist and began walking down the hallway, calling out to him as you did. “Oops, I’m going to be late and I wouldn’t want to harass you anymore. Have a good one, 2F!” A cackle bounced off the walls as he groaned, running back into his apartment as you sauntered off. 

Okay, maybe you did feel bad. In your defense, the jackass deserved it. He couldn’t be nice to his neighbors despite their numerous attempts so you had to do what you had to do. Should you have put a laxative in the cupcake? Debatable. 

But you couldn’t spend a lot of time dwelling on it. You did what you did and screw being the bigger person. Not with him at least. You were a good person. A kind person. He just seemingly brought out the worst in you for some reason. 

All you wanted to do was slap that stupid smug look off his face that always seemed to be there. Expressing your anger in the form of violence sounded especially intriguing on a Sunday evening as you heard the remnants of a party happening across the hall. You were snuggled into bed, ready to call it for the night when you realized that it wasn’t just the normal throbbing of music he offered, but a plethora of voices shouting as well.

You honestly could have burst into tears on the spot. You had work early in the morning, not wanting to deal with the shit storm that this work week was going to be offering you, and he was over there being the most assholey asshole that you had ever encountered. 

Remembering your christmas gift from your best friend had been a state of the art pair of noise canceling headphones meant you were running to put them on and they had been your savor that night. Uncomfortable to sleep with, of course, but at least you could sleep. 

The work day was exactly what you had been expecting. Wanting nothing more than to come home and spend the evening trying to destress was halted as you rounded the corner for your door.

Bile rose in your throat as you approached your front door. Your hand went over your mouth, the stench of garbage flowing from the hall. A tremor appeared in your hand as anger surged in you, never having felt such animosity before in your life. Both of your fists pounded on his doors until he appeared, extremely hungover, but munching on an apple like he didn’t have a care in the world at the moment.

You pointed to the piles of trash that sat blocking your door, a fire dancing in your eyes as you stared at him, speaking through clenched teeth. “Get your fucking garbage off of my door. Now,” he looked around you, seeing the piles of trash and shrugged.

“Not my trash, 3F.” You didn’t have the energy for these games tonight. “Move your fucking trash. I know it’s yours. I know you had a fucking party on a goddamn Sunday. It is yours. Move it.” He was entirely unfazed, shaking his head as he took the last bite of his apple. 

“Like I said. Not my trash. Have a good night,” your mouth hung open as you watched him toss the apple core onto the bags of trash sitting at your doorstep. It took you almost an hour to get all of the tash bags moved to the trash shoot. 

After that night, you didn’t retaliate. He carried on in his normal irritating ways, but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to care. The headphones constantly rested on your scalp now, never leaving anymore. You connected the television to them, played your own enjoyable music, or just sat in the quiet. They were an actual god send. 

Work had been driving you up the wall, no problems could seemingly be handled without you and it was driving you mad. You enjoyed being good at your job, knowing you were succeeding and that people turned to you for answers to issues and questions was rewarding, but it seemed now that it was more about everyone turning to you for any little thing they could.

It’s why your best friend suggested going out one night to relieve the stress and tension from the work week. You jumped at the opportunity, going to your favorite bar and wanting to enjoy spending some time out and about, allowing yourself to think about anything other than the two most annoying things in your life right now.

Work and 2F.

You were standing at the bar, ready to order your first of what would be many drinks for the evening when you heard it. His voice. He had saddled up beside you, eliciting a groan to fall from your lips. “If it isn’t my favorite neighbor! What brings you out? I thought you hated enjoying things? It’s quite loud in here, are you going to report it?” You rolled your eyes, opting to ignore him and catch the attention of the bartender. 

“Two Moscow Mules!” You shouted out, seeing him nod as you went to hand over your card, 2F spoke up. “Put all her and her friends drinks on my tab. Thanks, bud!” You shot daggers at him, shaking your head and going to hand the card over anyways. 

“Absolutely not! Here’s my card,” his hand came over yours, pushing your hand back, a large smile taking over his features. “I insist! Especially after that hefty lease violation fine. It’s on me!” He turned and walked away towards his own group as you were handed your two drinks, fuming as you walked back towards her. 

She giggled, nudging her head in the direction he had gone in. “Who the hell was that? He’s fucking hot! I hope you keep tabs on him for the night,” you let a forced shiver roll down your spine, gagging as she spoke. “That’s my fucking neighbor from hell! The little goblin put our drinks on his tab. How stupid is that shit?” 

She choked on her drink, coughing as she laughed. “No fucking shit! Oh my god I had no idea he looked like that. If he were my neighbor he would be making all the noise he wanted to. Particularly at my place. In my bed! And I think he has the same idea because he bought your drinks,” she batted her eyelashes at you as she sipped her drink again. You waved her off, downing your drink.

“You’re disgusting! We’re not like that. At all!” She shrugged pointing in his direction. “Oh really? Then why is he staring at you like he wants to take you into the dingiest bathroom he can find and rail you?” Your face burned at her words, letting your eyes glance in the direction he was in and noticing his eyes locked on you. 

You set your drink down, moving back towards the bar once you noticed that his attention was back on his group, back turned towards you. Getting the bartender's attention you leaned over and handed him your card. “That guy over there? Put his drinks and his group drinks on this card, don’t charge his card,” he nodded his head, taking the card and taking another drink order for you. 

Sporadically throughout the night, you could feel eyes on you. You knew exactly who it was. Why he couldn’t keep his own attention on his own group instead of eyeing you all night, you had no idea, but it was starting to get beyond annoying. He had, quite literally, the largest eyes you had ever seen so it wasn’t like he could hide where he was looking. Not like he was trying to either. 

The night had been fun apart from your own personal stalker. Many laughs were shared between friends, one drink too many, but as the night wound down and you went to collect your card, the bartender assured you that 2F’s tab had been charged to your card. With your friend having slipped out a bit ago, you sat on a stool at one end of the bar, watching as 2F’s group left, having him head to the bar and collect his card.

You laughed seeing his face show one of confusion after being told his tab had been taken care of for the night. You watched as he mouthed who and as the bartender pointed at you, his head whipped towards your direction. You gave a wave, hopping from your stool and leaving the bar. 

When you got home, you fumbled with your keys as you tried to unlock your door. “3F!” You sighed, turning in defeat as you heard his voice echo in the hallway. “Yes, 2F?” He walked towards you, hands in his jacket pockets as he stood in front of you. His hand came from the pocket and your eyes went wide as you saw the amount of money he placed in your hand. 

You shook your head, trying to shove it back in his own hand. “That’s for picking up my tab at the bar, your tab at the bar, a cleaning service to come and clean your apartment for me placing the trash bags at your door, and for the lease violation.” Your jaw hung slack, not able to formulate any words, eyes looking up to meet his and see the soft gaze that sat on his face. 

“Oh my god, no. I can’t accept this. Take it, 2F.” He shook his head, putting his hands back in his pockets. A small laugh fell from his lips as he eyed you. “Josh. My name is Josh,” shaking your head, your eyes shut, an exasperated breath leaving you. 

“I don’t want your money, Josh. That is absolutely the last thing I want or need from you,” he took a step back as you tried to shove it at him. Your jaw set, irritation bubbling in your system at how stupid he was being. In what world would you just accept a huge chunk of cash like this? There wasn’t a world where it would happen. You wouldn’t. 

Instead you stepped around him with a shrug, hearing his laugh as you crouched down. “What are you doing?” One by one you slipped the bills under his door. “I told you I’m not taking your money.” You could hear the frustrated intake of breath as you continued with your task, not noticing when he stood to the side of you, unlocking his door and opening it.

Your neck fell back to peer up at him with a scowl on your face. You weren’t even halfway through with the stack of money. Reaching your arm up and forward, you hand grabbed onto the cool metal of the door handle and yanked it towards you, shutting the door as you two stared at one another. 

Letting your head fall back so your eyes could once again focus on the task you were trying to work on, you heard him let out a shaky laugh. “You are so fucking stubborn,” you only mumbled out a response, almost done with the cash when he crouched down to your level, locking your eyes to his. 

When you turned your head to face him, your noses nearly brushed against one another with how close he was to you. The smell of tequila was on his breath, you were sure yours had faint notes of vodka and ginger beer, but you were rooted to your spot. Not necessarily making any move to lean away from him or go further towards the man. 

His dark brown eyes had an almost ombre effect, you noted. Unlike most people who had the lighter hue near their iris, the eye growing darker the closer to the edge you got, his did the opposite. They were so dark near his iris that the chocolate practically melted into it. The outer color only got slightly warmer, only noticeable from this closeness. You could get lost in them for hours if you had the time to. Prick. 

The cupid's bow of his lips were not sharp, rather they rounded off at the top peaks, only marginally dipping down to give the plush skin a break. One thing you had taken into account upon the many interactions you had with him was that they were never chapped. Quite the opposite. Always glistening like he had just swiped his pink tongue along them. The picturesque teeth that you could have sworn were veneers from farther away, but upon closer inspection were his actual chompers. Bastard. 

A perfect nose. You were envious of it. What man needed a nose like that? Entirely unfair, you noted to yourself. He had some of the unruliest eyebrows you had ever laid your eyes on, but for some reason it worked. The unkempt hair paired well with the faux curls that were always a permed out mess. Why did you like it so much then? Asshole. 

While you took stock of who was taking up your personal space, he was doing the same. Reveling in the closeness to you. How your kneecap would knock against his every few moments, the hollowed out divet in the base of your neck as you took in stabilizing breaths, the flutter of your eyelids as you were attempting to process the situation you two were in. 

Josh took the opportunity that was being presented to him on a silver platter, knowing there was not going to be a better chance than now to act on this. The feeling of enamorment he had been reeling in since he had first set his eyes on you all those months ago. Trying to decide how to approach you, but when you approached him he was elated. Until the ridiculous feud began between you two. 

He was going to bridge the gap. Leaning forward and capturing your lips with his, hand cradling the soft skin of your jaw, lightly pulling you closer to him. You didn’t fight it. Not in the slightest. Instead, savoring it. How the feeling of him moving against you seemed to set you alight. Tingling from either the amount of time you had been crouched down or the nerves erupting in you with joy. Excitement. Yearning. 

You moved to deepen this. Letting your mouth fall open in greeting to him to explore you, learn you, relish you. When the tip of his tongue accosted yours, the noise that ruptured from within you was a mixture of a sigh and moan, feeling the heavenly encounter for the first time was unlike anything you had ever experienced before in your life. If you could have it bottled up to revisit whenever you wanted to or needed to, you would. 

2F took it as a welcoming invitation to continue on. A sense of relief washed over him, knowing you were indulging in this, accepting this, trembling for this just as much as he was. He wanted to chase you back to him when you retreated, breath stuttering in your throat, almost pained to come to a stop, even if just for a second. 

Your eyes opened, meeting his and you stood, taking his hand with yours and moving back towards your door, silently asking him to come with you. He followed instantaneously, swallowing thickly as you turned to open the door and lead him into your home. The sanctuary he had been destroying for months.

His hands found home on your waist, tilting your head to the side as he pressed himself against your back, the warmth of his breath fanned across the skin causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. He wasn’t rushing, skilled hands knowing exactly what to do despite the slight tremor giving away the nerves that played at him despite his calm demeanor. 

As his mouth worked your pulse point, your hands sat on his, lightly squeezing as your breathing grew deeper. Uneven. Josh turned you around in his grasp, you wasted no time, letting your fingers card through his hair as his arms encircled you. 

His scent was intoxicating, something that made your head swim and cloud over with pure arousal. The feel of his facial hair running along your smooth skin had you pining. Your tongues danced in a rehearsed manner despite never having mingled before, but it felt known. Comfortable. Soothing. 

Despite your pleas and desperate noises, Josh pulled away from you. His hands moved to cup your cheeks, forcing your eyes to meet. “I’m not going to fuck you without knowing your name.” You swallowed slowly, his thumb skirting across your lower lip as you whispered it out.

He repeated it, eyes shut as he let it settle. You had never felt more one way than the other about your name, but as soon as it was graced from leaving his lips, you never wanted to hear another person say it again unless it was coming from him. 

Josh’s hands had lost their unsure hesitancy, moving to the underside of your shirt with poise and steadiness. His fingertips gripped and removed it, letting you two reconnect once more, not wanting to lose the contact again.

The pure temperature of his body was setting you on fire, your skins nearly sizzling as they pressed against each other. As Josh made his ascent from your mouth towards your chest, leaving peppered kisses along the way, your mind was reeling.

Unable to form coherent thoughts, any chance of intelligent sentences thrown out the window as he took a perched nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the perked bud. 

Your breath caught in your throat, back arching into his chest. A smile played at his occupied lips, his free hand traveling from the curve of your waist to your abandoned breast. As his teeth held your nipple, his fingers twisted the other, eliciting strong moans to release from the confines of you.

When he switched, he didn’t give you even a nanosecond to catch your breath, continuing his motions. “Pl-please, Josh.” His doe eyes peered up at you, hooded with lust and a fire burning in them as he heard you moan his name for the first time. 

“What, baby? What do you need me to do?” Instinctively, your legs widened further, the small cloth covering your core dampened beyond belief, signaling your need for him. Wanting nothing more than for him to touch you. 

He shook his head, grabbing your chin in between his fingers, making you look at him. His voice was deeper, a gravelly tone accompanying it. “I need to hear your words, sweet girl.” 

Your head fell back, arms crossing over your face as you decided how bluntly you wanted to put this. Deciding you simply did not care, you groaned out, “Touch me, use me, demolish me. I don’t care, just please, fuck me, Josh.” 

Those seemed to be the magic words because in the blink of an eye your panties were gone, lost in the heap of discarded clothes, and your core felt his cold hands. 

Gasping, eyes shooting open to watch this happen, his fingertips moved your lips. The sticky signs of your excitement stretched as he lightly traced his hands around you. “God, look at you. You’re a fucking mess,” his words came out under his breath and his thumb slipped in the slick, gathering it and bringing it to his lips. 

As he sucked the digit into his mouth, your jaw slightly fell open. Watching Josh do this, act like this was mesmerizing. It was an entirely new side to him and it made you desperate for him. 

Josh moved behind you, letting your confusion become evident as he smiled. He leaned back against your headboard, pulling you to lay in between his legs. As your back met his chest, your head against his shoulder and neck, his cheek against your forehead, you were alight in anticipation.

“Relax, sweet girl. I’m gonna take care of you,” his legs hooked around your own, forcing them to remain open. His fingers reached down, collecting your wetness once again, bringing it to his mouth. “I will never get tired of that taste.”

Too entranced in the display of him, you didn’t notice when his hand had disappeared down again, but when you felt his thumb press against your clit, a small, surprised yelp left you. A permanent smirk was on his lips, memorizing your reactions and movements for the first time.

Given how thoroughly soaked you were, when Josh’s middle finger slipped into your entrance it was met with no resistance. It offered a sense of relief, not near enough to satisfy the craving you were begging for. 

Slowly moving his finger in and out, hearing the mess you were making on his finger, he quickly added another. As soon as the other entered you, he picked up his pace. Incoherent mumbling and moans tumbled from your lips as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to your release.

Josh offered words of praise as a silent scream escaped you, white light clogging your vision. You were contracting around his fingers, not wanting him to remove them, but it wasn’t enough. 

You were incredibly needy for more. Turning around in his grasp, your hands landed on either of his thighs. Reaching your hand out, you cupped his stiff cock, gently squeezing, and pulling his head towards yours. 

The sensation of his lips finding yours once again was palpable relief. You straddled him, having him remain where he originally was. The head of his cock rubbed against your slit, whimpers falling from both of your lips. 

Letting yourself sink down onto him, your eyes remained shut, head falling back as you took him all. Josh’s arms closed around you, crushing you to his chest. Slowly starting to move, the stretched sensation began to subside, immense pleasure taking over. 

His thrusts met your moves, both of you crying into the other's mouth, against their sweat covered skin, becoming one with each other. He alternated between leaving searing marks on your chest or neck, capturing your mouth, or uttering filthy words of encouragement. 

The two of you were close to your finishes, chasing your highs, your hands tangled in his locks and pulling as you felt it crash into you at a blinding pace. Gasping for breath, his cum leaking out of you and back onto his still hard shaft, you two leisurely came down from your highs.

You didn’t make a move first, letting Josh kiss all over your skin, licking the sweat away that poured from you both. Your eyes didn’t want to open, too heavy with exhaustion to even try. He moved you off of his lap, wiping you clean with a towel, and kissing your forehead as you felt asleep. 

When he left that night, you weren’t entirely sure what the next move was. Were things different? Absolutely. Was he still the prick that had been purposely fucking your life over for the last few months? Undoubtedly. Was he so attractive that your mouth went dry when you replayed certain aspects from the night before over in your mind? Unfortunately. 

The actual peace offering. The real olive branch. The non-poisonous ones that is. They were sitting on a tray, perfectly frosted, sitting in the shape of a large smiley face. Now, there could be the possibility that just the sight of cupcakes could cause a visceral reaction, but you were going to take your bets. 

Until the music started up. 

Your head snapped up and in the direction of his apartment. Wide eyes, jaw set, and shoulders tensing at the unbelievably loud music. It didn’t even sound like the normal noise, instead like there was a concert happening a mere fifteen feet away from you. 

Closing your eyes and forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you crossed the hall, tray in hand as you knocked on his door. There wasn’t an answer at first, so you knocked again, hearing a slew of voices on the other side of the wood. Maybe now wasn’t the time to do this if he had people over. 

When he didn’t answer on the second knock you quickly turned, feeling your face warm in embarrassment. His door flew open, your name escaping his lips to get your attention. You cursed to yourself, turning back around and offering a sheepish smile. His grew exponentially when he saw what you had in hand. 

You thrusted the tray towards him, trying not to peer behind him and see an audience watching this exchange. “For you. An actual I’m sorry for everything. Not spiked, promise,” you laughed at the end, doing the scouts honor salute. Before he could respond, someone who looked just like him appeared at the door.

The man’s eyes widened, a large beaming grin plastering on his features. “Oh my god, are you 3F?” A surprised expression took over your features, eyes darting between the two of them. Why did this stranger know who you were? Another figure appeared with the pair, startling you as he seemed to appear from thin air. He looked like the two, but stood a few inches taller than them.

“No way, 3F? We have heard so much about you!” The apples of Josh’s cheeks flushed red as he turned and handed the tray to the taller boy, speaking through clenched teeth as he did. “How about you shut the fuck up and go stuff these in your fat fucking hole, yeah?” You giggled at the exaggerated wink the boy offered him, taking the offering and looking back to you. 

“Well, it was a real pleasure getting to meet you 3F. I do hope my brother has learned your actual name, but he has no game so,” Josh cut him off, shoving him inside and slamming the door behind the laughing pair. 

His hands rubbed over his face, the tips of his ears burning like his face. “I am so sorry about them,” his thumb pointed over his shoulder in the direction where they had gone. You gently nudged him, wanting to egg him on. “Telling people about me, Josh?” 

Watching his eyes go wide and hearing him stutter over his words was far too entertaining. “Oh, no, no. I mean I mentioned some of the stuff to them and look they’re my little brothers so it’s like their thing to make my life as awkward as possible, like you should see some of the band interviews with them doing this shit-” you cut him off, eyebrows furrowing at his words. 

“You’re in a band?” He took in a short breath, head bobbing in response. “Greta Van Fleet. That’s what we’re called. That’s what the noise is that you’ve been subjected to for the last few months. It’s our new album and I get spurts of ideas at random times,” you nodded, finally beginning to understand his point of view. 

You eyed him, arms crossing. “Should’ve told me that. Maybe this all could have been avoided.” It was time. Time to be the bigger person.

Josh stood next to the table, dressed in a suit that perfectly encapsulated the entire being and existence that he is. The microphone in his hand, a glass of champagne in the other, speaking out to the guests in attendance. 

It was his incredibly long winded speech that everyone had been anticipating. The man did not know when to stop talking, but as his tale was about to wrap up, his eyes fell to you, sitting next to him. “Anyways, I’m not entirely sure what that story of Danny, Sam, and the giraffe have to do with this, but-” laughter flowed around the room at his tangent, your eyes filled with love and adoration as he held your gaze, “I am so glad my plan of being a complete neighbor from hell worked because I truly didn’t know how else to talk to you. I saw you when I was moving in and felt like the gods had sent you to change the entire directory of my life. You are my everything, my entire life, and I cannot wait to craft the rest of our story together.” 

You weren’t sure if you should have been happy or down right pissed, but as his co-best men all stood, raising their glasses, you wanted to table it. “To Mr. and Mrs. Kiszka!” The cheers erupted around the room, sipping from your glass and letting your husband lightly peck your lips before taking his seat.

“So your entire plan was being the biggest pain in the ass you could and hoping you would land me that way?” You leaned into his side as he beamed at you, leaning further towards you, lips landing on your cheek. “Yes, and it worked, my darling girl,” you rolled your eyes, downing the rest of your glass as he snickered in your ear, your giggles mixing with his as you watched his twin begin prepping for his turn.

Jake stood dead center of the room, microphone in hand as he began his speech. “Hello all. I want to say a quick congratulations to my brother and his wife. If there’s anything anyones ever been told it’s about being the bigger person. That’s not the case tonight. Joshy boy, strap in.  Now, everyone knows my brother peed the bed until he was eleven years old.” 

[pandoa]

Hello hello! Pando!!,for you even can I request

Zinnias &Snapdragons for idia?,just a lil theme of him and his s/o after hanging out!

Zinnias ~ “i miss you” “you just saw me, silly” “and? i wanna see you again so come back~”

Snapdragons ~ “this can’t be real…it feels too good to be real. tell me this is all a dream before i start believing”

~idia shroud x gender neutral reader~

AAAA thank you for requesting!! i had so much fun writing this one lol idia is always fun to write for~ hope you like it!

♡player two♡

For the first time in—well—forever, Idia Shroud had found that he did not wish to go home.

There the blue-haired boy stood under the dim lamp posts spread across Night Raven College, silent and still, as he stared at the iridescent glow coming from the moon with the multitude of stars accompanying it in the stratosphere. The sight had solaced him as it always did, and Idia had never failed to let the restful gleam of the moon entrance him all throughout the night. The housewarden then slowly walked the path back to his dorm room at Ignihyde, eager to make it back to the comforting sheets of his light blue bed. He imagined the disorderly mess that he was much too used to—even the thought of organizing the chaos left him with an odd discernment at the unfamiliarity of it all. He imagined the rows and rows of his beloved manga collection, the posters hung up on his walls, various electrical chords entwining his room like the veins of a living being, and, most importantly, the silence of it all. The silence that let him roam free from the taunting gazes of the public; the silence that let him escape.

Idia had always loved the night. Idia had always loved his dorm. 

But staring at the night made him realize he had missed one main thing. You. Because for some strange reason, the moment the two of you bid your goodbyes, the instant you shut off your rather old gaming monitor, the second his two legs had managed to drag themselves out of Ramshackle, stepping further and further away from you, Idia had found that the moon he once adored was simply just a gray piece of matter waiting to mock him with the stars in the sky. That the comforting feeling of home was not complete without you there to fall asleep with him, empty bag of chips laying in your arms and inches away from falling to the ground. That the quietness he had once longed for pierced his ears like a sharp ache in his head every minute he was not surrounded by the frustrated groans or contagious laughter coming from your form each time he had beat you in a riveting game on your console. 

It was weird. 

Sure, you two had been dating for quite a while now—that he knows—however, since when did Idia ever dread alone time in his comfy, cozy, humble dorm room? Ramshackle wasn’t nearly half as up-to-date as Ignihyde had been, so what’s up? 

Idia reluctantly continued walking back to the mirror chambers, crickets hidden in the trees chattering and chirping a midnight song, as he reminisced the time he had spent with you within the dark walls of your dorm’s lounge. His visit to Ramshackle was sudden on your part; an act of playful impulsiveness from Night Raven’s prefect. Crowley, as competent as could be, gifted you a rather out-dated gaming console featuring a copy of Magic Gario Cart—retro and rare among Twisted Wonderland’s gaming community. And knowing your boyfriend’s raging interest in video games of all kinds, you took your phone and immediately called him over to your dorm, as if on instinct. 

The time spent playing games with you then dashed past in what seemed like an instant. Every second with you was a second he wished would never end, but it was still odd nonetheless. He had never been this way before, not to anyone. But then suddenly, with you around him, days spent outside his room weren’t as dreadful anymore. Isolation was a distant memory; anxiousness had faded away.

Idia found himself not wanting to leave just yet. 

“This can’t be real… It feels too good to be real,” Idia muttered as his steps slowed, mind still processing the luck he had struck with you being his romantic partner, “Tell me this is all a dream before I start believing—”

Beep, beep! A small noise peeping out of the blue-haired boy’s pocket then interjected Idia’s roaming thoughts.

“Huh?”

Beep, beep! It rang again.

“H-Hello?” Idia hesitantly said as he stared at the amusing profile picture he had set for you on his phone, “(Y/n)?”

“Come back,” a stern and certain voice came from the other side of his phone, causing the Ignihyde housewarden to halt in concern.

“What?”

An exasperated sigh then escaped your mouth, tone wistful and as-a-matter-of-fact, “I said come back. I miss you.”

“You just saw me, silly.”

“And? I wanna see you again so come back~”

Idia pondered carefully of your request as a joking hand made its way towards his chin, imitating and feigning deep thought, “Fine. But only if you let me be Player One this round.”

“What? No way.”

“Why not?”

“Because Crowley gave the set to me, not you,” you said defending your position on your console, “Therefore, I will always be Player One. Plus, you get to be One when we play at your place; let me have this.”

“But I wanna be Player One.”

“And so do I.”

“Please?” Idia began to lightly beg.

“No.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll let you be Zoshi this time.”

The boy, begrudgingly, caved at your offer, “...Deal.”

“Good,” you grinned into your phone’s speaker, “Now get back here. There’s this level I found that we haven’t tried out yet.”

a/n: i love zoshi from magic gario cart on mimtendo

[bellofthemeadow]

The Road Ahead - Epilogue | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 4K

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: This isn't the end, rather it is just the beginning of the rest of your life.

Notes: All right everyone, this is it. I can't believe this story is over, I am so happy I took the plunge and started to post online. This experience has been wonderful and you all have been amazing. Thank you to everyone who commented, liked or reblogged this story you guys helped me so much when I thought about giving up. If ever anyone wants more content from this universe I'd be more than happy to answer any prompts or asks. Now I am unto my Joel Miller x reader fic, I know a bunch of you want to be tagged and I am working on figuring out how :D

Hope you all enjoy this last chapter and in the meantime, take care of yourselves and I love you all very much xoxox

Family

"Here you go, a large sparkling water with three slices of lemon. You know I would've made a lemonade if you wanted; it would probably taste better than that stuff. Smells sour as hell." Will puts the large glass on the small table next to the pool lounge chair. You smile over your sunglasses.

"Thanks, Will. I really appreciate it," you express with gratitude. "Lemonade is just too sweet, these days only something that packs a good sour punch can even begin to curb my cravings. I think that if I send Frankie on another midnight hunt for Warheads, he might just end up moving back in with Alma," you add playfully, a mischievous glint in your eyes. As you speak, you pluck one of the large lemon slices off the glass and eagerly sink your teeth into the tangy, bitter flesh, savouring the burst of sour flavour hitting your tongue.

Will scrunches his nose. "Fish told me he saw you put a whole bag of Sour Patch Kids in your vanilla milkshake last week. Anything else we gotta be worried about, except for major heartburns and fried taste buds?" Will teases. You playfully put one of your hands on your taut round stomach. "Gotta keep the little one happy, and he insists that a milkshake with Sour Patch Kids is the breakfast of champions." Will smiles, trying to hide his amusement. "Hope you're still getting all of your food groups, though." You roll your eyes in jest. "My goodness, you're worse than Frankie. Don't worry, this isn't my first rodeo. I know what I'm doing." Will raises his hands in surrender. "My apologies didn't mean to offend. I know you know what you're doing. I just want to make sure you're all right.” A pause, as pregnant as you are, emerges “Are you alright?"

A giddy smile makes its way to your face. "Better than ever. Honestly, you have nothing to worry about, Will. I am thriving," you exclaim as you shimmy your shoulders in a little up-and-down dance. Will softens at your little display. "I am glad, then. You know I am always there if you need anything, right?" "I know, Will. And thank you." You hum in response before a comfortable silence opens between you two as Will looks over to where his brother is trying his best to not burn the burgers under Pope’s disapproving glare.

You gasp as you feel your baby start kicking you as if there's a goddamn karate class going on near your ribcage. You hold your breath for a second, feeling the rhythmic movements, before the kicking recedes. You lovingly place your hand on your stomach, feeling the gentle flutter within. "Are you okay? Is anything hurting? Do I need to get Fish?" Will's voice is filled with genuine concern.

You let out a joyful laugh. "No, no, don't worry, it's all right. Don't bother Frankie; he seems very focused on his task at hand." With a playful gesture, you wave your hand in Frankie's direction, where he's holding a not-so-little Ella just above the water, teaching her the proper way to kick her small pudgy legs to stay afloat. Despite being just over 3 years old, Ella is more interested in gleefully splashing her papa with water kicks than learning any of the supposed swimming techniques. Frankie, however, looks absolutely delighted, and after a particularly vigorous splash to his face, he playfully plunges Ella with him underwater. When they resurface, Ella is screeching with excitement, her tiny fists reaching out to grab her father.

Both you and Will can't help but laugh at the adorable display, shaking your heads with fondness. You return your attention to your growing bump and softly caress it. "When I was pregnant with Ella, she was the calmest little baby around. It all changed when she was born; then she turned into a little tornado," you reminisce, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I hope that since this little one enjoys using my bladder as his personal trampoline and keeps me up until the early hours of the morning, it means he'll be a little ray of sunshine after he is born."

You feel another kick, causing you to huff in response. Your eyes shift to Will, who looks amazed by your side, and you can't help but smile. "You want to feel it?" you ask, noticing Will's uncertainty and the hesitation in his eyes. "Come on, I'm sure he's excited to meet his uncle." Seeing him struggle a bit more, you take matters into your own hands, guiding one of Will's hands decisively to your round, 6-month bump.

You both wait with bated breath, but it's not long before your little karate champion makes himself known. "Woah, that's insane! Does it hurt a lot?" "It's uncomfortable, but nothing that I can't handle." Honestly, you love how rambunctious your little baby boy is. Since you started feeling him, some of your best memories were you sitting on the couch with Frankie's hand sprawled over your taut stomach and Ella sitting in your lap, talking to her soon-to-be baby brother.

"It's been great, magical really. Couldn't ask for anything better." You gulp the last of your sparkling water and suck another lemon slice into your mouth while Will shakes his head affectionately. "I am glad to hear it. We were all a bit worried when you two announced this new baby. I guess we were a bit scared Frankie was going to fall back into... old destructive habits. But I guess we were worried for nothing." Will gulps from his beer, while you munch on your slice of sour heaven.

"I was worried too, don't get me wrong," you admit, a hint of vulnerability in your voice. "Those first few weeks, I was so afraid Will. Couldn’t keep my eyes from Frankie, I hovered like one of his helicopters, like I already condemned him you know. God, I could barely sleep. But now, looking back, I realize that we were all worried for nothing."

You pause for a moment, a sense of pride evident in your words. "It's going to be three years in two months, you know. Three years of sobriety." A spark of excitement lights up your eyes as you share your plans. "I'm planning a pretty big party to celebrate, so you and Ben better clear your schedules for late May," you say playfully, wagging your finger in front of Will's face, reminiscent of a mom giving orders to her child. Will responds with a smile, placing his hand over his heart in a salute stance. "Roger that," he affirms seriously.

You smile, relishing in the tranquillity of the moment, before feeling a pair of wet arms envelop you from behind. An equally wet torso presses against your back, and you can't help but let out a playful screech as you try to wiggle your way out of the tight embrace. Your legs flail in the air as Frankie's nose nuzzles against your neck, eliciting a tickling sensation, and his hands dance across your side. You laugh so hard that tears fall down your eyes, while Will is laughing even harder at your predicament.

"Stop it, Frankie! You're getting me all wet!" You can feel Frankie's smile turn devious against your neck as he hikes up toward your ears and whispers low enough so that Will wouldn't hear. "That's not what you were saying last night when I was getting you wet. You were a bit louder, screaming my name for 'More, more, Frankie!'" He finishes his sentence in a shrill tone, a poor imitation of your voice. You swat him, feeling heat rushing to your body.

Will looks at both of you with a knowing smile before teasing you more. "You look overheated. Maybe you should lie down for a bit." "Shut up, Miller," you grumble. "I can't believe you two are ganging up on me!" you exclaim dramatically.

"Sorry, mi cielo," Frankie begins, attempting to untangle his arms from your side, but you swiftly grab hold of him, keeping his arms right where they were. "Don't you dare, Morales," you assert, a hint of playfulness in your voice. Frankie responds with an affectionate eye roll, nudging your side in response. "Let me tell you, Will, pregnancy makes them hard to follow," he remarks, attempting to defend himself. You let out a displeased huff, not fully convinced. "Don't talk as if all women are a monolith," you retort.

"Sorry, you are right, mi cielo," Frankie says reverently, acknowledging your point. However, a mischievous glimmer dances in his eyes as he turns to face Will. "Pregnancy makes this one hard to follow," he playfully adds, eliciting laughter from all three of you. You let your head fall back onto Frankie's firm torso, playfully nipping at his jaw. "You shouldn't be mean to me. You know it's your baby who's been using me as his private target practice," you retort with a hint of mock indignation.

Frankie's expression softens as he leans in to kiss the top of your head. "You are right. Will my beautiful pregnant wife forgive me?" You respond with an exaggerated haughty tone, pretending to consider his plea. "Maybe, what do I get if I grant you leniency?"

"We could stop by Sonic after the BBQ, grab..." "Milkshake and Sour Patch Kids?!" You screech. "Forgiven, completely forgiven!" You exclaim excitedly. You hear Will laugh in front of you. "You two are a sight to see, making me believe in love and all that jazz." "What can I say? You won’t find a woman like my beautiful wife on every street corner. I gotta make sure that she is as happy as possible. Can't lose her, so if that means that everything in the house tastes like lemon or acid mouthwash, then so be it."

"Where is our little tornado?" you crane your neck trying to check your surrounding as you realize that Frankie came to see you alone. Frankie points back to the pool where she is getting thrown around by an overexcited Benny. It was a hard process to get Benny and Frankie's relationship back to what it used to be. Both men bruised, Frankie believing that Benny wanted to replace him in your and Ella's life, and Benny angry that Frankie would think so low of him.

It was only after you and Will had conspired to lock them in the Miller's basement for an entire day that things had begun to repair themselves. When you had come back with Will and opened the door, you had seen the two men sitting down, their backs against the hard concrete walls, and a bunch of beers littering the unfinished floor. You had scrunched up your nose, put your hands on your hips, and spoke in the same tone you used when Ella was misbehaving. "Are you two ready to get along, or do we need to lock you in overnight?" Will had stood behind you like a bouncer, ready to throw hands if necessary.

But in the end, both men had simply laughed and, clearly drunk, had held onto each other as they scrambled to their feet. The sight would have been rather pathetic if it wasn't for the laughter the two men were sharing. They assured you that they were the best of friends again before launching into a long-winded explanation, cutting each other off with "You know I would die for you, Ben" and "Nothing compares to you, Fish. You are the best man ever." All in all, it was a good result, one that you and Will were satisfied with. You had let the two men leave after getting them to promise that they would start getting along again, which led to another rant on promises, brotherhood, and love. So yeah, satisfied.

Now it was as if all those awkward months between the two men had never existed, and their bond was stronger than ever. Frankie didn't feel insecure that Benny was Ella's favourite uncle (although that changed every day and highly depended on who brought the biggest gift or the sweetest treat—today it was Benny with the new rendition of "Mermaid Barbie"). And Benny was just happy to be a part of your extended family of six.

Frankie tenderly strokes your belly, his touch filled with love and gratitude, before locking eyes with you. In that silent exchange, you offer him an encouraging nudge with your shoulder, urging him to speak his mind. Frankie coughs, trying to mask his nervousness, before finally gathering his words. "Actually, Will, there's something we wanted to ask you," he begins. Will nods, signalling for Frankie to continue. "You know how challenging these past couple of years have been, overcoming my struggles with drugs and everything. But through it all, you've been there for me. You've helped me immensely with the court case, my sobriety, and supporting the girls. I feel incredibly fortunate to have you as my brother, Will."

Touched by Frankie's words, Will's expression softens, genuine gratitude shining in his eyes. "Fish, we're family. I'd move mountains to help you, and your work at the VA has been remarkable. The conferences you lead on addiction and recovery for veterans are making a real difference. I should be thanking you.” A tinge of embarrassment colours Frankie's cheeks, his friend's compliment catching him off guard. Ever since Frankie achieved sobriety and regained his piloting license, Will arranged for him to lead weekly conferences at the VA. Frankie would meet with a group and talk about his experience, the importance of speaking up and opening up, the importance of seeking help, and how it wasn't a failure to help yourself and be there for those you love. Frankie had flourished in this role, finding purpose and fulfillment.

"But really," Frankie continues, breaking through his momentary bashfulness, "I wouldn't be where I am today if you hadn't paved the way for me at the VA. For that, and for everything else, we want you to play a significant role in little Javi's life.”

Will frowns in incomprehension. "Well, I intended to be a part of Javi's life. You don't have to ask so formally." Will teases, while Frankie shakes his head. You come to the rescue, placing a comforting hand atop your husband's, resting on your growing belly.

“What Frankie is trying to ask, Will, is if you would consider becoming Javi's godfather." Will's eyes widen in surprise as if the notion is beyond his wildest expectations. "Me?! Godfather?! Shouldn't you be asking the Pope for something like that!?”

Frankie shakes his head, rejecting the suggestion with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Don't be stupid, ironhead," he retorts. "Pope’s head is big enough as it is being Ella's godfather. And I don't want to inflate his ego any further. Besides, there's no one I'd rather have as my boy's godfather than you."

You see Will soften as tears well up in his eyes. "Thank you, Fish. That means... It means the world to hear that," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to live up to what you expect of me." You can't help but let out a playful snort, knowing all too well that his formal tone is a feeble attempt to conceal the depth of his feelings. Behind that stoic facade, Will is a big softie, and right now he is on the verge of dissolving into a puddle of tears.

Will clears his throat once again, and you notice tears glistening in the tall blond man's eyes. "I... Thank you, Fish... I... I have to tell Ben!" Will scrambles to his feet and exclaims loudly, "Ben, guess who's going to be the godfather!!!" The response is a shocked "WHAT?!" as you spot Ella attempting to use Benny's head as a trampoline. A snort escapes you as you relax against your husband's chest, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. With your husband's strong presence behind you, your daughter happily playing with her uncles, and your baby boy safe and snug in your belly, you softly whisper, "I don't think it can get any better than this."

Frankie's gentle humming resonates behind you, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your growing belly. You turn your head, a quizzical expression lighting up your features as you meet his gaze. A warm smile graces Frankie's lips before he leans in to plant a soft, tender kiss on yours.

"I wouldn't know," he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress. "Every day I spend with you is more wonderful than the last, mi cielo. I can only imagine how tomorrow will surpass even today." His words send a rush of heat through you, a deep feeling of being cherished and adored. One you only feel with Frankie.

You shift your body, the weight of your burgeoning belly making it a slight challenge, until you face Frankie, perched securely on his strong, muscular thighs. He holds you close, ensuring you won't slip, his touch providing both comfort and desire. You love how Frankie can make you feel safe and excited at the same time in an overpowering cocktail of desire and want. You press your lips against his, murmuring against his plump ones, "You have such a way with words, Mr. Morales, and I love you deeply." Frankie's smile blooms against your mouth, his affectionate gaze locked on yours.

"I also know how insatiable you've been lately, Mrs. Morales," he playfully remarks, allowing one hand to wander downwards, firmly grasping a handful of your soft, supple ass. He kneads and squeezes the plushness, igniting a delicious tingling sensation throughout your body. You tease him in response, slowly grinding against him, making sure that no one is looking at the pair of you.

"Ah, but I don't think I'm the only insatiable one here, my love," you whisper mischievously as you feel a bulge growing in Frankie’s swimming trunk. Frankie's breath catches in his throat. "Of course, how could I be anything but insatiable when my wife is out here looking like a goddamn dream." You roll your eyes. "Please, my belly is the size of a basketball, and I'm pretty sure my ankles have disappeared with how swollen they are." Frankie starts kissing your face all over, punctuating each kiss with an endearing word: "Beautiful. My. Beautiful. Girl. Never want anyone else." You feel yourself melt against him.

"OI!" Both you and Frankie turn your heads where Benny stands in the shallow end of the pool, Ella perched on his shoulder, her little hands covering her eyes. Benny's exasperated tone fills the air. "Can you save that for the bedroom, you animals? There are children around!”

"Pendejo," Frankie whispers under his breath, while you try to wiggle out of his grip and gather yourself in a more presentable position. But Frankie holds you where you are. "It's high time you find yourself a girlfriend if you need to get your rocks off looking at my wife and me!" Frankie screams back.

Benny gets all red and huffy, and you can hear some expletives being thrown your way. "Goddamn idiots... acting like high school kids... no shame... A girlfriend?! Idiots." In response, Ella swats him hard on the head where she is still resting and screeches, "LANGUAGE! Mama, 'cle BenBen said a no-no vord!" You smile. "Indeed he did, Estrelita. Looks like Uncle BenBen needs a little punishment!" Ella erupts into laughter, thoroughly amused by the prospect, while Benny's expression betrays a mix of fear and unsureness as Ella proceeds to sway back and forth on his shoulder screaming loudly about the bad language.

"You think we should rescue him?" Frankie asks. You consider the situation before responding with a noncommittal tone, "Nah, he's a big boy, he'll be fine.”

Frankie looks pensive for a second "Do you ever regret it?" he asks, his tone laced with vulnerability.

"Regret what?" you reply, genuinely puzzled by his inquiry.

Frankie's frown deepens, and he searches for the right words to convey his thoughts. "Taking me back. Starting again. No one would have blamed you if you had chosen to leave,” Frankie, for all the work he has been doing for the past three years, for all the individual and couple therapy he has attended, still sometimes feels like a scared little boy, yearning to be good enough for those he loves.

A soft smile graces your face as you gently stroke his cheek, your touch filled with reassurance. You guide his hands to rest on your taut stomach, emphasizing the life growing within. "There is no one I would rather be with than you, my love," you say tenderly. "Nowhere I would rather be than in your arms. You are everything to me—always have been and always will be.”

As Frankie's tears flow freely, his emotions cascading over him, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours, seeking your warm solace and quiet reassurance that he is enough, that he is loved. Frankie’s voice quivers as he whispers, "I love you so much, Mi Cielo. Thank you for everything you have given me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” A tender silence wraps around you both, allowing space for the weight of his words to settle between you. Frankie's murmurs against your collarbone provide comfort, his soft words acting as a balm to your souls. After a minute, Frankie's voice gently resurfaces. "The road ahead looks rather bright," he begins, his tone soft yet resolute, "and I can't wait to keep walking it with you."

Your smile widens, illuminating your face with pure joy as you savour the sweetness of Frankie's words. The road ahead does shine brightly, you think, as you tenderly place a kiss on Frankie's lips. And no matter how stormy it may become, as storms are inevitable on any journey, you are certain that you wouldn't walk it with anyone else by your side but your beloved Frankie. Like the sun and the sky, you are forever intertwined, destined to navigate the highs and lows together, casting light on each other's path.

Loving each other until the end—that's the life you've always wanted for yourself and Frankie and as you feel another kick from your baby boy and feel Frankie screeches excitedly and he start talking to baby Javi (well to your belly) in quick Spanish, praising the to be born baby. And as you spot baby Ella trying her best to run after Will and Benny while Pope eggs her on you thnk back to when she could barely crawl around. Your hands join Frankie and you feel your heart swell with love and happiness, yes this is all that you’ve ever wanted.

Loving each other until the end—that's the life you've always wanted for yourself and Frankie. As you feel another kick from your baby boy and hear Frankie's excited cheer, expressing his love and admiration, you can't help but smile. He speaks to baby Javi in Spanish, filled with warmth and anticipation, knowing that your family will soon be complete.

 Across the yard, you spot Ella as she playfully chases after Uncle Will and Benny. Surrounded by the warmth of your found family, you feel a deep sense of contentment. This is everything you've ever wanted—the love between you and Frankie, the growth and happiness of your children both here and yet to be born, the bonds of friendship that only strengthen over time. Holding Frankie's hand, you know that together you will continue to build a life filled with love, support, and countless moments of joy. This is the life you've always dreamed of, and it fills your heart to the brim with love. The road ahead is bright indeed.

[soaplickerrr]

Stray Love

~ The Tour ~

Chapter #9

〉〉 Previous Chapter

〉〉 Next Chapter

Warnings ~ Fem Reader, Quitting your job for a man(/j)

This is short, all chapters will be short, and the story will overall be short. I'm trying to get used to writing again.

Proofread by @hereforthedrinkss

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In the months following your baking date, your relationship with Hyunjin flourished. Every moment spent together was filled with joy and laughter, and you both found solace in each other’s company. Hyunjin's devotion to you became increasingly evident. After practice, he would either invite you over to the dorm or, in a heavily disguised outfit, sneak over to your apartment. His time was divided between his demanding career and you, but he managed to balance it with surprising ease.

Whenever he spoke with the other members, your name would inevitably come up. He’d mention how much he admired your interests and how you’d indulge in his. The other members would tease him, but Hyunjin didn’t care. He was head over heels for you.

Every day, without fail, Hyunjin would find a way to connect with you. If he couldn’t see you in person, he’d call or video chat, sharing snippets of his day and asking about yours. Your conversations were filled with warmth and comfort, a testament to the strong bond you both shared.

One evening, as you were on a video call, Hyunjin mentioned something that sent your heart racing. “I have a world tour coming up soon,” he said, his tone a mix of excitement and hesitation.

You nodded, a smile on your face. “That’s amazing, Hyunjin. I’ll miss you, but we can always call. I’ll be right here when you come back.”

Hyunjin paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “What if... What if you quit your job and came on tour with me?” he blurted out, his eyes wide with hope.

You froze, your mind racing. “...Really?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin seized the opportunity, his words tumbling out in a rush. “Yes. You don’t have to worry about anything—money, food, anything. Let me take care of you.”

You shook your head slightly, struggling to process his offer. “Hyunjin, that’s too much to give. It feels like I’m using you, and I don’t like that. I would have to think about it.”

Hyunjin’s eyes softened, and he nodded understandingly. “Take your time. I just don’t think I can last that long without seeing you in person.”

The subject was dropped, but the thought lingered in your mind. You continued to talk for hours, the conversation flowing effortlessly. Nearing midnight, you both fell asleep on the phone, the connection still open.

The next morning, you woke up to the soft sounds of Hyunjin stirring on the other end of the call. “Good morning,” he mumbled sleepily.

“Good morning,” you replied, smiling at the sight of his bedhead. You both brushed your teeth and had breakfast together, continuing your conversation from the night before.

As you finished your meal, you took a deep breath, the decision made. “Yes, I would love to go on tour with you.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in disbelief, then lit up with pure joy. He jumped up, almost knocking over his chair. “Yes! Yes!” he shouted, running out of his room and barging into Chan’s room. “She said yes!!” he chanted, over and over.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm, watching through the phone as the other members looked at him with amused expressions. Chan laughed, patting Hyunjin on the back. “Congrats, man.”

Hyunjin returned to the call, his face flushed with excitement. “This is going to be amazing,” he said, his voice filled with happiness.

The days leading up to the tour were a whirlwind of preparations. You handed in your resignation at work, packed your bags, and made all the necessary arrangements. Hyunjin was by your side, supporting you every step of the way.

When the day finally came, you stood at the airport with Hyunjin and the rest of the group, dressed like the other staff there, so you wouldn't stand out. The excitement was palpable, and you couldn’t help but feel a mix of nerves and anticipation.

Hyunjin leaned closer to you, whispering in your ear. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, his eyes shining with excitement.

You nodded, smiling up at him. “Absolutely.”

The tour was a dream come true. You traveled to new cities, experienced different cultures, and made unforgettable memories. Each concert was electrifying, the energy from the fans infectious. But the best part was being with Hyunjin, sharing these moments with him.

In the quiet moments between shows and travel, you and Hyunjin would find time to be alone together. Whether it was exploring a new city (privately of course, or just pretending to be staff and bringing actual staff with you so it wouldn't look weird.), or simply cuddling in the tour bus, each moment was precious.

One evening, after an especially exhilarating concert, you found yourselves back at the hotel room, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Hyunjin sat next to you on the bed, his hand intertwined with yours.

“This is everything I ever wanted,” he said softly, his eyes reflecting the dim light of the room.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Me too. I’m so glad I decided to come.”

Hyunjin kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering. “Thank you for being here with me. It means the world.”

As the weeks turned into months, the tour continued to be an incredible journey. The bond between you and Hyunjin grew even stronger, the love you shared evident in every look, touch, and word.

One night, after a particularly long day, you both fell asleep in each other’s arms, the comfort and warmth of his presence enveloping you. You woke up the next morning to the soft sound of his breathing, his head resting on your chest. Smiling, you gently ran your fingers through his hair, savoring the peaceful moment.

Hyunjin stirred, blinking up at you with sleepy eyes. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice husky.

“Good morning,” you replied, your heart full.

The days on tour blended into a beautiful blur of music, love, and shared experiences. And as you stood by Hyunjin’s side, you knew there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

NEXT CHAPTER IS LAST CHAPTER!!!!