#a little angst snuck in there

[bloggerspam]

Gonna change it up a little and reblog from my sideblog bc ill be doing some little omake scenes (extras, and in this case not-quite canon but might as well be) over there (if i think of any/can manage to be funny enough)

If you saw me reblog the new update no you didnt it was a last minute decision. >.>

===

So.

The unnamed Cousin who caught him in his lies was not in fact, a bigot who was appalled about Jon's powers, but rather a concerned meta-human himself.

Good to know.

Kon uses his hearing to try and get a bead on the suddenly missing Cousin's whereabouts, his irregular heartbeat standing out amongst the crowd.

He grabs the red-headed cousin who made Jon on his meta-human status and tugs her along to where his little brother might be. He can already hear the un-named cousin scolding the younger kids for their recklessness, which makes him smile in relief. He's always been bad at that kind of thing, even though it's his job to do so as the older one.

Even if Jon has technically existed for longer than he has, Kon has way more information downloaded into him. The fact that they didn't download him with the intricacies of being an older sibling should honestly be a crime.

At any rate, Kon and Jon definitely owe these cousins for discretion. Even though Ma said the Walkers wouldn't have had an issue with them having powers, it was still dangerous to even give the possibility of a connection to the Supers.

Especially since Clark was already Smallville's biggest and worse kept secret.

Honestly, he shouldn't have trusted Clark in the first place, even if Pa backed him up on it.

Kon hates to say it, but this is exactly why Tim is so adamant on those stupid plans and practicing them.

It started out so well too—none of the Aunts or Uncles or older cousins suspected a thing! Kon introduced himself, gave his branch family name, and most of them just, moved on!

When Pa and Clark said it wasn't unusual in a big family like theirs, Kon almost didn't believe them. It was only through the virtue of Jon's previous memories of not remembering a single cousin despite going to three of these reunions already that Kon even agreed to the foolhardy plan!

Kon had even asked for Mom and Ma's help just in case, but then Auntie Agatha had her emergency and Kon had to drop them both off and Pa needed help carrying Ma's pies—

All this to say, he shouldn't have let his guard down just because a couple of relatives let it pass. There was bound to be at least one relative who would notice, and Kon knows more than anyone that twisting yourself up in lies can get you caught real quick—you don't stay on a team with Red Robin and not learn that lesson the hard way.

Have fun, Pa said. It'll be fine, nobody'll notice, Clark said. Seriously, you're starting to sound like Tim, Jon said!

And look how that turned out, Kon thinks viciously. Both Jon and Kon have been made by not just one but three Walker cousins, and Kon has to deal with it as the older one.

The absolute worst.

From a mission objective point of view, Kon has utterly and terribly failed. He was thrown into the deep with no basic research under his belt, no rudimentary plan, and worst of all, no back up plans or back up plans for the back up plan.

Kon should have insisted they waited for Mom, damn it. Tim would have done that. Cassie would have probably lied better than him, and Bart would have just coasted on his cute little baby face.

Kon hates to say this even more, but his brashness of just jumping right in with the confidence of success no matter what is probably something he inherited from Clark.

But Batman isn't here to clean up his mess, and his team is scattered doing their own secret identity obligations.

He really should have waited for Mom to come back.

Kon rounds the bend of one of the Uncle's houses, the Reunion being held in the neighborhood the local family members have low-key taken over. With a total of four ranch-sized houses owned, next to each other, it makes for a big enough space to host (or so he's been told).

"Ellie, you know you were supposed to stay out of the bounce house." A stern voice is staying. He and the red-headed cousin find their prize just behind the edge house, somehow empty and devoid of the reunion shenanigans.

Jon and (presumably) Ellie are sitting on the grass looking caught out but otherwise happy with themselves. They keep nudging each other as the meta-cousin stands before them, arms crossed and shaking his head in defeat. He's even pinching the bridge of his nose, reminding Kon of Tim when the team does something they're not supposed to be doing.

"Baby Jon, didn't Uncle Clark teach you how to control your powers?" The unnamed meta-cousin asks his brother, exasperated. "What am I saying, he doesn't have a subtle bone in his body when it comes to the family.."

Kon snorts, unable to help himself, drawing the trio's attention.

"Jazz!" Ellie beams, waving excitedly before spotting Kon. Her wide-eyes freeze him in place. "Who's that?"

"That's what I'd like to know." The meta-cousin grumbles, hands going to his hips and Jazz stumbles over to check over Ellie and Jon.

"I told you," Kon adjusts his sunglasses to dart a look at the meta-cousin, before smiling down at Ellie. "I'm Jon's older brother, Conner."

"Baby Jon doesn't have a brother." Jazz and Ellie say in unison.

The meta-cousin throws his hands up in defeat. "And Baby Jon didn't have powers either, clearly we're missing something!"

"It's a new development." Jon grumbles. "You didn't have powers last time either, Cousin Danny."

"It's a new development." The finally named meta-cousin mocks back. "And clearly, I have a better handle on it than you do, Baby Jon."

"This is so unfair." Jon huffs, flopping back into the grass. "And I hate it when you guys call me Baby Jon."

Danny points at Jon whilst Jazz rolls her eyes as they both say in unison, "You're not a Cousin until you bring your first dessert."

"But Ma never lets me near the oven!" Jon whines as Ellie giggles, tumbling back into his brother and making him laugh with her.

"I think that's kind of the point, kiddo." Kon ventures, unsure feeling less and less confident in Clark's plan.

"Don't think I forgot about you," Danny points at Kon, who puts his hands up in surrender. "Far as we're concerned you're still a Baby too. You did not exist before this, and therefore have not brought a dessert."

"You don't know that." Kon challenges, trying to at least get one lie through. "I don't come to these things often, sure, but it's not like you know every cousin in this gods damned family."

"That's the thing." Danny squints his eyes in suspicion, "You'd be correct if you weren't in my age range. My generation came out the smallest—there's only three of us cousins in this age bracket, and you sure as hell ain't tall and blonde like Cousin Mark is, and you're damned well not a girl like Cousin Jenny."

"Plus," Jazz interjects, scrolling through her phone. "I don't have your baby pictures."

"What?" Kon and Jon say in unison, the younger sitting up in confusion. Kon clears his throat, trying to sound authoritative. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Jazz has everyone's baby pictures." Ellie says as she also sits up. "Plus, she and Dad know every family member."

"See?" Jazz turns her phone around, showing a family picture of Ma and Pa and Clark and Mom when she was heavily pregnant with Jon. "I have every Kent's photo except for you."

Scrolling through, she starts showing them pictures of a toddler Jon on Clark's shoulders, Ma and Pa chatting at Mom's wedding, even a picture of Clark doing some kind of bull wrangling when he was Kon's age.

"And you just…have that." Kon stares disbelievingly at Jazz, "On your phone."

"Well, yes." Jazz looks at him confusedly. "I have most of the family's baby pictures."

"She even has some pictures of Great Aunt Martha's first date with Great Uncle Jon." Danny shrugs, as if this is normal.

As if this is sane behavior when you have 100+ family members.

"…How?" Kon asks, scrolling through her phone and jolting. "Is this Mom in high school?? Where did you get these??"

"They showed me once, so I took a picture of it." Jazz shrugs. "Sometimes the Aunts blast them out in group chats, or on InstaFace."

"Nobody even uses InstaFace anymore!" Kon feels like he might be crazy, this is insane right? None of his downloaded information is helpful, and Tim didn't include this in his powerpoint about social media.

"Jazz got one specifically to keep up with the family!" Ellie smirks, which makes Kon realize she thinks his reaction is funny. "She doesn't use any other social media."

"Aren't there like, a bajillion family members?" Jon chimes in from where he's hopping up behind Kon, trying to see. Kon bends over a little bit before he does something drastic, like fly. "Why do you have like, everyone's baby pictures?"

"I don't have everyone," Jazz argues, "Great Grandpa Arty and Great Grandma Bella didn't have pictures."

"Because that's what we're focusing on here." Kon snarks, looking to Danny and Ellie for help and getting exactly zero.

"It is not that strange!" Jazz huffs, snatching her phone back and scrolling through to a particular one. "It's nice to have memories and I like keeping track of everyone!"

She seems to find the picture she's looking for, shoving it in his face. It's a picture of an album.

There's a picture of Ma and Pa's wedding, a little sepia toned from sun or time damage where it shines a little unevenly in the album it's in. There are two hands in the photo holding open the album, a small pale hand with teal nail polish on it, and a slender woman's hand, wrinkles barely visible, with Ma's wedding ring on it.

Admittedly, Kon can understand wanting to save these kind of memories. Knowing Ma, she would have told Jazz the entire story too.

It makes a pang pulse through Kon, something close to jealousy and envy, but just a little to the left of it.

Something like loneliness.

"Is this Great Aunt Martha?" A tuft of black hair gets in his face, causing him to jerk back a little. Ellie has inserted herself between Kon and the phone, hanging off his arm and tiptoe-ing to see.

The point of contact soothes him a little, moreso when Jon nudges in from his other side, the two almost bumping heads and bickering over the photo.

Kon lets them have it, and the two sort of wrestle their way to the grass to peruse the rest of the album to try and find more of the Kents and Fentons like some kind of Where's Waldo game.

A hand clasps down on his shoulder, and when Kon turns his gaze away from the preteens he meets Danny's almost sad gaze.

"Listen. Clearly we need to do a sort of…" Danny steers Kon over to where Jazz has sat down neatly next to the kids on the grass, "debrief, I guess."

"Did Uncle Clark have you with a one night stand?" Ellie asks, which has both him and his brother choking on their spit. "Mom said he was hopeless with the ladies, but maybe he was good enough to have a rendezvous or two?"

The look on Jazz and Danny's faces suggest that they clearly don't think Clark is cool enough for that, and it warms the cockles of Kon's little heart.

"I don't think Uncle Clark is the...one night stand type." Jazz says, reasonably. "He doesn't really do anything casual by the mile."

"Conner's a Junior like me, so Uncle Clark would have been…" Danny does the math, "at least dating Aunt Lois, so if he did it'd be an affair."

"I am not an affair baby." Kon interjects exasperatedly, throwing one last Hail Mary out. "I was just really shy as a kid, and since Lois had me out of wedlock I felt real weird about it, okay!"

"Aunt Lois wouldn't have been ashamed." Jazz's voice is stern, which makes his spine tingle the same way it does when Tim or Ma or Mom scold him—like he's done something really wrong and should cop up to it. "Great Aunt Martha wouldn't have let her, I wouldn't have let her, and you've got another thing comin' if you think I'm gonna let you keep talkin' 'bout yourself like that young man."

"Shit," Danny cusses, rubbing the back of his head and pressing Kon down into the grass between the kids. "You might as well get talkin'. When Jazz's accent gets all funky it means she's real mad."

Kon looks at Jon, at a loss.

They don't know each other well enough to have built up some kind of sibling communication, and most of all Kon's still new to this whole, human/family/community thing even if YJ has done its damnedest.

But somehow, both of them know they've got to give up the ghost.

This is definitely all Clark's fault.

"…We tell you ours," Kon offers as Jon employs his deadliest puppy dog eyes, "and you tell us yours?"

Before Danny or Jazz can even think to interject, Ellie sticks out her hand towards his little brother to shake. "Deal!"

Cousins, Clones and Conning the Family

Family Reunion AU, where cousins Maddie and Clark try to smuggle their clone children into the family reunion that happens every 5 years and pretend they've been there the whole time.

Spoiler alert, one of them does significantly better than the other. Mainly Kid POV, and also on AO3! Multichapter. ===

The problem with big family reunions, Danny thinks, is how utterly fucking lost Danny is all the gosh dang time.

"Well now, you're Maddie's son now ain'tcha? How old is you now?" The woman standing before him guffaws, ruffling his hair. He lets it, trying desperately to remember the speadsheet Jazz created for the family and (obviously) failing to recall this woman's name.

Agatha? Selene? Riri? No, Aunt Riri is over there—

"Yes ma'am," Danny smiles up at the unnamed aunt, accent going a little twangy like it always does at these functions, "I'll be hittin' 17 in a coupl'a months or so."

"My, my, you youngin's sure grow like weeds!" The aunt coos, gesturing to a height by her hip, "You used to be this tall last time I saw ya, betcha don't r'member me now do ya?"

It's a trap. If he says he doesn't remember, which is expected at reunions such as these that happen every 5 years or longer, she'll start going on and on about the stories she has of the family. Danny would have to stand here and demure and laugh at these cousins he doesn't really remember too well, but know enough to know that she's gotten them all mixed up.

"Pshaw," Danny doesn't react when a whisper breathes the answer into his ear, "I'd never forget a pretty lady like you, Aunt Helena!"

It works like a charm.

The second he's out of her clutches, he feels around for a cold spot. There, trailing just behind him, is Ellie. She's not invisible anymore, so he tucks her under his arm and bee-lines it towards the metaphorical kid's table.

"Thanks, Ellie. Weren't you supposed to stay with Dad?" Danny leads them around, trying to avoid any other mishaps. "Did Jazz send you?"

"She made me flashcards!" Ellie smirks up at him, ignoring his other question and pulling a corner of an index card out from the palm of her hand. She's always been better than him at manipulating the ecto in her body, for obvious reasons. Danny's not bitter about it at all.

"Damn, all I got was a presentation." Danny grumbles. Jazz and Dad somehow know every single one of their family members, which is ludicrous when even Mom doesn't know despite it being her side of the family.

He still can't really believe how big his family actually is, but he supposes that's natural. He only sees them once every couple of years, the only relative they see even on a remotely regular basis is Aunt Alicia, who has no kids and refuses (rightfully so) to remarry.

Danny's fine with that, he gets the best of both worlds after all. Cozy holiday stays with Aunt Alicia and he has places to stay all over the country if he really needs it, no questions asked.

Plus, crazy as they can be, these reunions have always felt like a big country festival for Danny.

"She likes me better." Ellie snickers, tugging him back to avoid Uncle Charlie's drunken stumbling.

"Everyone likes you better," Danny rolls his eyes, pushing Ellie's head down and ducking to avoid a stray kid's toy flying overhead, "I like you better."

As if somehow knowing Danny's being self deprecating again, Jazz shows up to smack him on the head. "I like both of you equally in special ways."

Danny makes a disgruntled noise, grumbling as he rubs his head, "Mooooom, Jazz is therapizing me again!"

Even though he was only half joking, Mom does show up specifically to laugh at him. "Honey, your father and I love all our children equally!"

"It's a secret," Dad says from behind Jazz, kids climbing all over him, "But Ellie's the favorite!"

"Jack!" Mom yells at the same time Jazz screams, "Dad!"

Ellie dissolves into giggles, making everyone but Dad helplessly laugh. It's good to see Ellie laugh, she does it a lot but it still doesn't feel like it's enough. Danny picks her up, giggling mess and all, and tosses her at Dad.

She lands, as expected, straight into the pile of children who scream and accept her easily.

"Nice." Jazz chuckles, this time patting him gently on his head in approval. Danny shrugs, dusting his hands off and heading back towards salvation: the food.

He and Jazz mingle a bit, exchanging greetings and school updates with the Aunts and Uncles they occasionally bump into, making their way slowly through and keeping an eye out for the other cousins.

Eventually, Jazz gets nabbed by Cousin Dermot just as Danny reaches the table, tossing a pig-in-a-blanket into his mouth and chewing with glee. The locals of the family usually something potluck style—and though Dad's genes are strong and the Fentons can't cook, the bulk of the Walker family definitely can.

In fact—Great Aunt Martha said she was going to bring some mini pies right?

Danny spies a pile of them in the middle of the large table and reaches for one, only to bump into the spikes of black fingerless gloves.

The gloves are, of course, attached to someone else.

It's a boy, around Danny's age, in a spiked leather jacket (matching the gloves) and white tee shirt with ripped jeans. He's got the tiniest John Lennon sunglasses and piercings everywhere—it makes Danny squint at him, with how much the sun keeps catching on everything—the spikes, the piercings, the metal arms of the sunglasses, is this dude also wearing lipgloss?

Danny's not judging, a guy can appreciate proper hydration to avoid chapped lips or even just for the aesthetic, but it doesn't help with the glare.

"Sorry, my bad." Right, okay, city slicker then. Not that Danny's much of a country boy or anything. "Did my spikes get you?"

Maybe Cousin Jenny brought a plus one? Danny eyes the guys jeans—they look tight. Was Cousin Mark into guys? Is this dude a guy or possibly a masculine girl? Ack. Stupid sun frying his brain.

"It's okay," Danny says, blinking away and tossing mini pie to the other person. "Aunt Martha's pies are worth the minor injury. You comin' in with one of the cousins?"

"Uh, yeah." Citypunk looks at Danny nervously, "I mean, I am one of the cousins." The guy bites his lips, shrugging, "Uh, one of the Kents, actually. Ma's real proud of the pies."

Danny blinks.

"…You're not Jon." Danny says, very carefully and slowly.

"…No…" Stranger Danger draws his vowels out, "I'm Conner. His, uh, older brother? Can't blame ya for being confused though!"

"…You can't." Danny agrees, because out of the two them, Danny definitely isn't to blame for the confusion.

"Yeah, lots of cousins, and all," Curiouser and Curiouser beams at Danny, shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck, "Plus, I know Jon's more sociable at these things."

"Right, he really is rambunctious, that guy." Danny nods, as if that's the problem, and not the fact that Danny knows every single cousin his age. Big as his family might be, Danny's generation came out the smallest. Cousin Jenny and Cousin Mark are the only two his age.

With Ellie and Jazz each being four years younger and older than Danny, and the other cousins being well beyond those ages in gaps, there is no way this guy is a cousin.

"Don't worry," Punk'd laughs self deprecatingly, "I know he's the favorite. even if Mom won't admit it."

Danny feels a vein throb in his right temple.

He's unsure if he should slowly back away or get up in the guy's face. It's just—now that Danny thinks about it, if wedding crashing is a thing, does that mean family reunion crashing is a thing too?

What's the protocol here? Should he fight this guy for having the audacity to use Great Aunt Martha's name in vein?

Wait, no, that's Jesus.

Is Great Aunt Martha Catholic? ...Is that the one with Jesus, or was that Christianity?

Wait, Danny, you knuckle head, Uncle Clark was adopted. Conner could be adopted too! Even though he looks exactly like that Uncle Clark when he was younger…

"Is this your first time at a reunion?" Danny ventures, "We only have 'em—"

"Every 5 years, yeah." Conner huffs, "Nah, I just used to hide with Ma in the kitchens."

Okay, clearly Great Aunt Martha isn't in on this, because Danny used to hide with Great Aunt Martha in the kitchens. Danny's about to lose his shit on this guy—or maybe sic Ellie on him. Whichever is worse.

"Oh yeah? That's must have been cozy." Danny grits out, taking a deep breath so his eyes don't flash.

"Yeah, it was!" Conner beams shyly. though all Danny sees is a smug smirk. "She's real nice-like, I'm sure you know. Real lucky to have her for a Grandma."

"Real lucky." Danny agrees, because Great Aunt Martha really was one of the better Great Aunts. Though most of the Walker Kin were hardy and tough, in that badass kind of way. Mom really liked Great Aunt Martha's lessons on bull wranglin' back when they were younger. "Speakin' of, she ain't here?"

"Nah," Conner makes a sad little pout. "She hadta stop by Auntie Agatha's for an emergency. She left two days ago, so she's runnin' a little behind. Cl—Dad went to go pick her up."

Danny squints at the possible imposter. That sounded like he was going to call Uncle Clark by his name, which makes things confusing for Danny. Guy will call Aunt Lois Mom but he won't call Uncle Clark Dad easily?  Maybe he's a kid Aunt Lois had before marrying Uncle Clark? But Aunt Lois would never hide a kid, and Great Aunt Martha would never let her treat a kid like that. That's not even taking into account that this kid looks way too much like Uncle Clark for it to be a fucking coincidence. Plus, Danny knew about Aunt Aggie's emergency and how she might not be making it to this year's reunion—this gives Conner's story credibility.

But Danny knows that the best way to lie is with truths, even if the truths are confusing.

So what the hell is going on? Is Clockwork fucking with him? Did an alternate timeline get switched with his?

It wouldn't be the first time, but Clockwork at least had the decency to let him know at least.

"What the—" Danny blinks, as Conner picks up a very familiar, eye-searingly green colored post it note that was stuck to the plate under a mini pie. "Is this yours?"

"Yeah," Danny huffs. taking the note and rolling his eyes as lies roll off his tongue, "Sorry, y'know how it goes with Jazz."

"Oh, yeah." And Danny has to give it Conner, he at least rolls with the punches real quick, "I heard about it but didn't ever uh, see it in action."

"Really?" Danny feigns surprise, head pulsing in irritation at the words all is as it should be written in purple pen. There's no mocking smiley face, but Danny feels it in the ink anyway. "Thought she got all the cousins at the last reunion."

Conner chuckles nervously, "Oh, yeah—Guess I'm just, easy to miss you know?"

"Uh huh…" Danny eyes the guy and his piercings and very distinct style, from the tip of his clearly styled hair and needlessly ostentatious big black studded boots. "…Right."

Conner laughs, wincing. "These're new. High school debut."

"…You're a freshman?" Danny tilts his head, squinting.

"Junior." Conner automatically corrects, before stiffening. "…I just wanted to reinvent myself for Junior Prom."

"Right." Danny repeats, drawing out the vowels and finally giving up. He can tell Conner already knows what Danny is going to ask, and is trying to exit this conversation post-haste.

Fortunately for Conner and unfortunately for Danny, Jazz comes barreling in, almost knocking the former out in the process as she grips the latter's biceps tightly with her eyes wide and nervous.

Unfortunately for Conner and fortunately for Danny, though the look in Jazz's eyes thoroughly distracts the latter and gives the former a window to escape, Jazz's hissed out words end up keeping Conner rooted to the floor.

"Baby Jon has powers!" Jazz hisses as she moves Danny away from the possible imposter a couple feet. Even though she says it low enough for only Danny to hear, Conner's wide eyes as he whips his gaze towards them suggests that Jon's not the only one with powers.

And then words actually register along with that thought.

Danny hisses out the first thing he thinks of. "Since when?? I thought he took after Aunt Lois!"

"Since now," Jazz gruffs, switching her grip to drag Danny away, "and I need you to do something about it!"

"What?" Danny doesn't struggle, going along even as he eyes Conner who seems to be following them at a distance. "Why?"

Jazz pushes him towards the kid's area, rushing out a frantic "He's in the bounce house with Ellie!"

Danny freezes, or tries to even as Jazz keeps tugging him along, before shaking off her hand and booking it towards the bounce house.

Once the bounce house (a castle) comes into view, Danny clocks several things in succession:

One: Ellie and Jon are thankfully the only ones in the bounce house right now.

Two: Ellie and Jon are laughing, and through the mesh Danny can see Ellie watching Jon jump way too high to be considered normal.

And three: The bounce house is about to fucking tip over.

There's a gaggle of Aunts herding the younger cousins towards the food that's dense enough for cover, but sparse enough for Danny to dash through.

Between one blink and the next, he disappears.

[hemlockalope]

I'm having fun on HSR chat maker (Lost post below!!) Website I used: https://hsrchat.pages.dev/

and by having fun i mean making jiaoqiu angst

Text format: Jiaoqiu: Sushang, guess who's on the Luofu~ Sushang: Uncle Jiaoqiu!! Really?! We should meet up soon then! Sushang: I miss your cooking! (Sushang send an emote of herself throwing a chicken) Sushang: Though not the spicy ones, haha... Jiaoqiu: Of course, haha Jiaoqiu: I'm going to be busy with the General the next few days on official business Jiaoqiu: But I should be free before we go back to the Yaoqing! Sushang: Great!! Sushang: Oh, will it be okay if I bring a friend? Jiaoqiu: Of course! Invite whoever you want Jiaoqiu: Just let me know how much I should cook Sushang: Okay thank you! Sushang: She'll want to try your spiciest hotpot, I don't know if she'll be able to finish it though Jiaoqiu: That'll be great! I always make the spiciest for myself, there'll just be more for me haha Sushang: I seriously don't understand your spice levels... (Sushang sends an emote of Pom Pom scared) (Jiaoqiu send an emote of Pom Pom dancing) (A few days later) Sushang: Hey!! How has your time on the Luofu been? Sushang: and when would be the best time to meet up!! (Sushang send an emote of Pom Pom excitedly waving) (A few hours later...) Sushang: Uncle J? Sushang: You're probably busy with the General Sushang: Sorry for bothinger you!! (A day later...) Sushang:... Sushang: The cloud knights announced that a messenger from the Yaoqing has been taken hostage. Sushang: Please don't be you Sushang: please text me if your okay (A day later...) Sushang: Uncle J, the Cloud Knights said you're still missing. Taken by the borisin Sushang: Please be safe Sushang: I called my mom too. We're both worried, please text me if you can

[caer-gai]

Reincarnation AU Aggravain's brothers surprise him for his birthday.

[darkwitchoferie]

Stolen Hoodie

Summary: You've been best friends with Chan since he started at your school. You've had a crush on him since you were both at least 20. Now you've decided it's time to ruin the friendship.

Cw/tw: daddy kink, praise kink, a lot of pet names (baby, pretty baby, good girl, etc), a little breath play, oral (both receiving), face-fucking, face-riding, unprotected vaginal sex (mc mentions she’s on birth control), thigh riding, nipple play, brief bit of angst (insecurities specifically), after care fluff. Also, did you know that like, 1/3 of the population has no gag reflex? That’s a wildly high number compared to what I thought.

Wc: 5.8k

This fic is part of a series of unconnected best friends to lovers fics, the others of which can be found on my Master list

You’ve been best friends with Chan since he moved to Seoul, basically. He’d started going to your school when you were both 13 and the two of you hit it off practically instantly. It wasn’t for another year that you learned he’d moved to become an idol.

Since then, you’d watched him work and struggle for his dream before finally, spectacularly, achieving it. You’ve met, and you adore, the seven other men who’ve achieved their dream with him.

You’ve also had a massive crush on him since you were 20. For years, you’ve relegated your crush to impossible-never-going-to-happen territory. And that was fine. Yeah, it was more than a simple crush now and that made things harder for you. But you’d rather suffer with unrequited love than lose him.

Except, you’ve started to notice little things that all add up to him wanting you too recently. Sometimes he would get this look in his eyes when he thinks you’re not paying attention, like he wanted to devour you. Other times, he’d look heartbreakingly fond.

Or, though he’s tried to hide it, you’ve noticed the way your best friend looks at you when you wear his clothes. It’s mostly things like borrowing his jacket when it gets colder than you expected so you didn’t have your own. Or one time when the pair of you got caught in the rain and you had to borrow a shirt and sweats while your clothes dried.

Just to test it, you’d lightly flirted with Hyunjin the other day. Nothing that couldn’t be excused as just friendly, but definitely enough to make someone with a crush jealous. You weren’t sure Hyunjin noticed you were flirting, but Chan certainly did. He’d clenched his jaw, eyes darkening, and quickly excused himself.

You were on your way up to his apartment for your semi-regular movie night. Jeongin was out for the weekend, visiting home, since the group had the time off. Glancing down at yourself, you adjusted the hoodie you’d snuck out of Chan’s room the previous week so that it hung almost completely over the shorts you were wearing, leaving only about 2 inches visible, before knocking on his door.

He answered the door with a smile that then froze on his face. You could practically see the blue screen in his eyes. “Hey Channie. We did agree on today, right?” You knew you had, but wanted to make sure the day didn’t start off awkward.

“Hm? Oh yeah. Sorry, I dunno what that was. Drifted off. Hi Y/nnie,” he tugged you into the apartment, wrapping you in a tight hug. “How was your week?”

As you ranted about your week, you toed off your sneakers, dropped your overnight bag, and followed him into the kitchen. He’d already made dinner, so the pair of you sat at the table while you ate and caught up.

You pretended to ignore that he wasn’t really listening to you, looking at your bare thighs where you sat beside him, or eyes traveling over your torso in his hoodie. That look that said he wanted to devour you was back in his eyes. Periodically, he’d catch himself staring, shake a hand like he was trying to shake himself out of it without making it obvious, then go back to trying to follow along with what you were saying. It never lasted long before he was staring at you again.

You noticed the bulge growing in his shorts – how could you not – but chose not to say anything about that either. Just like you were focusing on not giving in to your own arousal. Yet.

After you finished eating and cleaning up the kitchen, the pair of you started to head for the living room. But, you decided, that just wouldn’t do for what you wanted today.

“Hey Channie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we go to your room? I just... after this week I could really use some quality cuddling time.” You hadn’t had a terrible week, it had been perfectly normal, but it’s not like he’d been paying enough attention to know that.

“Of course, sweetheart. Anything you need,” he answered with a sympathetic smile. You felt the tiniest twinge of guilt but reasoned that it was only a partial lie, and a white one at that. Besides, he’d have known you were lying if he’d been listening to you.

He headed to his room to set everything up, including his projector and setting his led lights to blue. You stayed in the kitchen, getting drinks and snacks for both of you, then followed him back. When you got to his room, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, facing the door, but not looking up.

You set the drinks and snacks on his desk and asked, “Everything okay, Channie?”

He looked up at you then took a deep breath. "I need you to take that off," he said, gesturing to his hoodie.

"Why?"

"Just... please?"

You shrugged and start to take it off. "Wait!�� His shout stopped you. “Are you not wearing your own shirt under there?"

"No bra either," you said, lifting the hoodie high enough to flash him then dropping it back into place when he groaned and looked away. "What's the matter Channie?" you teased, getting close to where he was sitting on his bed. This was going better than you anticipated. Or, faster at least. You thought for sure he’d try to hold off until you were cuddled together in bed. "Ya know that look you get when you think I'm not paying attention? The one that says you wanna devour me? What would you say if I want you to give in to that look, Chan?"

"Don't.” You watched his hands nervously running up and down his thighs, tugging at the hems of his shorts.

"Don't what?"

"Don't say things you'll regret later."

"No regrets here. I love the way you look at me. The way you've been trying not too look at me since I showed up wearing this.” You’d been steadily moving closer and were damn near in his lap now, knees nearly pressed against one of his knees. You stuffed your hands in the hoodie pocket to avoid the temptation to touch him. You wanted him to be the one to make that move. “Channie?” He still didn’t look up at you, so you decided to play your ace.

~ About 1 month previous ~

Neither of you was drunk, but you may as well have been. You were both so sleep deprived, you were impressed you were able to hold your eyes open. But Chan had been gone on tour for ages and you didn’t want to miss out on any time with him while you had it. Clearly, he felt the same way as he hadn’t even hinted at going to bed.

You weren’t sure how the conversation had started, but you were complaining about how unsatisfied you were by your ex. You’d broken up while Chan was away and now you felt free to complain about all the things that had annoyed or pissed you off about him. Like how he never texted first, that he thought you wouldn’t want something for Valentine’s day despite you mentioning how excited you were about the upcoming day.

“And!” You said, sitting up from where you’d been slouching on the ground against his bed beside him. “He never got me off! Well, not never, just very occasionally. Like, okay, I understand that some kinks aren’t for everybody. And it’s not like I wanted him to choke me every time we had sex – but sometimes at least. Plus, I thought guys like having sex without a condom?! I have an IUD, we were both clean, we’d have been fine!”

“Hang on, are you telling me you have a breeding kink?”

You faltered for just a second, kind of surprised you’d said that. “Okay yeah,” you admitted after a moment. “That’s not the issue here, Chan.”

“I mean, maybe it was for him? Did you ever talk about it?”

“Yeah. He thought it was weird.” Chan scoffed. “I know! And it’s not like I was asking him to hit me or anything extreme. I don’t like that. Just a little light choking and some hair pulling, ya know? Some praise, tell me I look good. Call me a slut if the situation calls for it. It’s not asking for much, I don’t think. But he was... boring. Like, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy missionary, but there are other positions.”

It seemed admitting to your best friend that you had a breeding kink had taken away any filter you may have otherwise had. Or it was the sleep deprivation. Either way, despite a part of you thinking you should, you just couldn’t stop talking.

“And then! Okay, worth saying, I don’t like the overly-jealous, you-can’t-have-any-male-interaction-at-all thing. That’s toxic as fuck. But like, if we’re out and someone’s blatantly flirting with me in front of you, at least act like we’re together, ya know? A hand on my hip, kiss my cheek or neck? Then a quiet promise to me that later that you’ll remind me who I really belong to. Just a little possessive, enough to make a girl feel wanted. Not that I’m surprised he didn’t, not really. He barely made me feel wanted in bed, why would he out of bed?”

You sighed heavily. “I should’ve known it wasn’t gonna last though. He was nice enough, but like.... I dunno, Channie. I’m an independent woman,” you looked to him for acknowledgement.

“You are,” he agreed easily.

“And I can take care of myself.”

“You can.”

“But sometimes, I just want someone else to take care of me for a little while, ya know?”

“I can appreciate that.”

You sighed again, slumping back down against the bed. You were both quiet for a few minutes, long enough that you wondered if he’d fallen asleep. Glancing over, you saw that he hadn’t.

“What about you?” you asked.

“What about me?”

“I just shared like so much about my sex life. What about you? Do you have any kinks to share with the class?” you gestured to the completely empty bedroom.

“You shared unprompted though. I didn’t ask for that information, but now it’s in my head. Why does that mean I have to share?”

“So I don’t feel so alone here. Please?” you batted your eyelashes at him. He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his hair and mumbled something. “What?” He repeated it just loud enough for you to hear. “You have a daddy kink? Ya know, not actually surprised by that.”

“You’re not weirded out by it? Like, plenty of people are.”

“Best friend,” you held your hand to your own chest. “That means, totally judgement free.”

Eventually, the pair of you fell asleep in his bed, him spooned behind you, like you had countless times through the years. Neither of you mentioned the kink discussion after you woke up, but you, at least, never forgot it.

~ End Flashback ~

"Please, Daddy,” you nearly whined the words out. Chan's eyes snapped back to you then and you smiled in triumph. "Don't make me beg for what we both want."

"And what exactly do you want?" His eyes had darkened, the pupils blowing out, but he was still trying to hold onto his self control as he gripped the edge of his bed. The tone in his voice and look in his eyes had a rush of arousal gushing from you.

You wanted your voice to come out sultry, seductive. Instead, you feared you sounded desperate. Which you were, but you didn’t need to sound like it. "Want you to ruin me. Wanna feel that thick cock I've seen in your sweats spilt me open and claim me. I wanna be fucked so hard that I'll still feel you when I move tomorrow. Want you to fuck me raw, Daddy, so I can feel you cum in me."

His hand shot up to wrap around your neck, applying just the slightest pressure. Not enough to cut any air flow, just enough so you knew he could. "You think you can take it?" You whimpered in response, pussy clenching. "Shorts and panties off, baby girl. Leave the hoodie on." You stepped out of just your shorts. "No panties either? Naughty girl."

"Wanted it to be easy for you, Daddy." He groaned, pulling you in for a hard, sloppy kiss by your neck, his other hand reaching for your pussy.

"Good god, baby girl. You're already so wet for me, huh?"

"Always wet for you." He muffled his groan against your neck, biting and sucking a bruise into your skin as his fingers slid back and forth along your wet folds, avoiding your clit, a single finger just barely dipping into your cunt and making you whine with want.

Sliding his hand from your pussy to your hip, he tugged you down to straddle his thigh. His shorts rode up a little with your movement, so you were sitting against his bare thigh.

With a whimper, your hips started rocking, almost without your conscious decision to do so. "Yeah, baby? Does Daddy's thigh feel good on your soaked pussy?"

"Feels so good. Love feeling you on my pussy. Can't wait to have you in me, Daddy."

"You cum on my thigh like a good girl and I promise I'll fuck you so good, baby girl,” he said against the side of your neck. The hand that had been around your neck came down onto your other hip. His grip was firm as he helped keep you flush against his thigh while you rocked your hips. He flexed his thigh muscles, pressing up more firmly against your cunt, making you whimper and drop your head forward, your hands coming up to brace on his shoulder and chest.

From the corner of your eye, you watched him watch you. His eyes bounced from your slick covering his thigh, to your face, to as much of your cunt as he could see. You raised your head to look at him and saw him hesitate for just a second, before he said, voice husky with want, “Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?”

You moaned, back arching, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and pussy clenching around nothing. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss.

You were a little surprised at how close to the edge you were getting, just riding his thigh. Despite the delicious friction against your clit on every motion, you’d been sure it would take more. But the quivering in your thighs and tightening in your belly assured you that you were wrong. You shifted your rocking motions as you got closer, swiveling your hips instead. That motion worked so much better and had you pulling away from Chan’s mouth, head tossed back with a moan as you came all over his thigh.

“You did so good baby girl,” Chan said, soothingly rubbing his hands up and down your thighs as you came down from your high.

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Made such a mess of my thigh too. Love watching you make a mess of me.”

“Oh really?”

He tugged your hand off his chest, bringing it down to press against his clothed erection. “Yeah, baby girl.”

“Oh God.” You wrapped your hand around him as well as you were able considering the clothes that were still in the way. Your mouth started to water at the prominent outline of his cock. “I need…. I need….”

“What do you need? Tell Daddy, whatever it is,” he squeezed your thigh reassuringly.

“Oh God. I need to taste you, need to suck your cock.” You scrambled back off his thigh, dropping quickly to your knees just in front of his legs. “Please, Daddy?”

He groaned, dropping forward to press his forehead to yours. “You’re a dream, baby girl,” he muttered, softly enough that you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it. He sat up and quickly pushed his shorts and boxers down his legs, kicking them off to the side somewhere.

The outline through his clothes didn’t do him justice, to your mind. His cock was gorgeous, long, and thicker than any you’d had before, with just the slightest curve. His tip was leaking precum and you couldn’t wait to taste it. You shuffled forward on your knees, making yourself comfortable between his thighs. You raised a hand, lightly scratching your nails down his inner thigh and watched his cock twitch at the action.

“Wait, baby,” he suddenly leaned back, almost laying flat on the bed. When he straighten back up, he held one of his pillows. “Here, lift up just a bit.”

You should have expected that, even in this, he would be looking out for you. Before anything else, Chan was your best friend. You situated yourself comfortably on the pillow then leaned forward and licked a thick strip up the underside of his cock, swirling your tongue around his head and gathering his precum on your tongue. You hummed, enjoying the taste of him on your tongue, before opening your mouth and sliding down on just the first inch or so.

You felt his fingers weave into your hair as you sank further onto his cock. You relaxed, breathing through your nose, until you sank down completely, your nose buried in his pubic hair. You held yourself down until you felt his hips kick up. Smiling internally, you lifted part way off his cock, keeping his tip in your mouth, before sinking down again. You set a comfortable pace, bobbing your head up and down, swirling your tongue around his tip.

Then Chan changed the angle on you by standing up. “Baby, can I...?” He trailed off, thrusting his hips slightly. In response, you relaxed back on your heels, held your mouth open, tongue out, and just looked up at him. “Oh God damn.” He used the grip he had on your hair to hold your head still as he steadily thrust into your waiting mouth.

His grip on your hair tightened as he sped up, pulling on the roots. You moaned around him, eyes rolling up with the combination of the pain of him pulling your hair and the pleasure of him using your mouth. “Look at you,” his voice was breathy and low as he spoke. “Such a pretty slut with my cock in your mouth.” You moaned, pussy clenching at the praise and saliva leaking onto your chin from around his cock.

You got lost in the pleasure of his cock on your tongue and the praise continuously falling from his lips in that breathy, low tone that you just knew you’d be addicted to by the end of the night. You felt his cock start to twitch in your mouth before he could warn you. When he sank completely into your mouth, you gripped his hips to hold him there and intentionally swallowed around his head a few times, until he was coming down your throat, head dropped forward and eyes locked on you.

He dragged you up off the floor with his hands under your arms and collapsed back onto the bed with you on top of him while he worked to catch his breath.

“God baby, I’m almost afraid to ask how you got so good at that.”

You smiled slightly. “I have no gag reflex,” you answered. “Nothing dramatic.”

He tugged his shirt off, successfully doing so without making you get off him, and used it to wipe the drool from your face before tossing it somewhere off the bed. He claimed your lips in a hungry kiss, one hand sliding down and between your legs. This time, he didn’t just tease – almost immediately he pushed two fingers into you, swallowing your moans.

You broke away from his lips, moaning against his neck as he hooked his fingers to rub against that spongy part of your walls that had you clenching around him.

“Yeah, baby? That feel good?” You whimpered, nodding against him. He added his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bud. You writhed against him, bucking your hips against his leg where you laid. Then, just as you could feel your orgasm coming, he pulled his hand away.

His chuckle cut off in a moan when you whined, “Daddy, was so close.”

“I know baby girl. Come here, Daddy needs to taste you.” He manhandled you into position over his face. You were a little hesitant, having never had a boyfriend who’d wanted you to sit on his face before. “Sit, baby. I can take it.” When you still hesitated, he gripped your hips and pulled you down onto his mouth.

The moan you let out was something straight from a porno as he immediately thrust his tongue into you and started lapping at you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. His nose bumped against your clit with every motion of his mouth and tongue.

“Oh God,” you reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair as you felt your denied orgasm building back up. His hands smoothed over your hips and thighs, no longer holding you against him as you rutted against his mouth. He shifted slightly to wrap his lips around your clit and gently sucked it into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it until you arched back, pressing your cunt more firmly against his face and moaning his name as your orgasm rushed through you.

His responding moan vibrated against your pussy as he continued to lap at you through the aftershocks. “Good girl,” he praised, helping you slide off his face and onto the bed. “So good to me, letting me eat you out like that.” He leaned over you, claiming your lips and pushing his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste yourself.

Without breaking your kiss, he manhandled you until you were lying against his pillow. Then he broke away, trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, pausing to suck a bruise into the skin of your neck. He pulled back to look down at you for a second.

“Time to take this off, wanna see those pretty tits again.” Chan tugged his hoodie off of you, tossing it across the room. “God, look at you. Gorgeous.” He sat back on his heels, just admiring you for a moment, running his fingers over your thighs. You returned the favor, openly gaping at the well defined chest and abs you’d always been able to feel any time the pair of you hugged or cuddled together.

Then he was back on you, picking up his trail of kisses from the hickey he’d left on you. He continued kissing down over your chest, capturing one nipple between his lips, sucking the bud into his mouth while he pinched and rolled the other between his fingers. Then he switched sides. He had you moaning and writhing under him as he sucked a hickey into the side of your tit, then against your ribs, and another on your belly.

You tugged his hair, unable to take it anymore, moaning out when he looked up at you. “Please, need you to fuck me Daddy.”

“Okay, baby girl,” he grinned at you, that dimpled grin that was as familiar to you as your own face bringing on a gush of arousal as he hovered over you. After a swift kiss, he leaned over the edge of the bed, grabbing the pillow you’d been kneeling on. You lifted your hips for him to slide it under you.

He wrapped your legs over his hips and steadily slid into you, watching your face the whole time. Once fully inside you, Chan leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead. When he pulled back, he offered you a sweet smile. His thrusts started slow, like he was savoring the feeling of being inside you. Every time he bottomed out, you could swear you felt him in your stomach. You couldn’t take your eyes off his face, watching every expression.

He readjusted himself on his knees, gripped your hips tighter, pulled out and slammed back in, pulling a strangled moan from your throat. He smirked down at you, keeping this new, harder pace. You flailed for a few seconds until you grasped his forearms, nails digging in.

“That’s it, baby girl. Look at you, taking my cock so well. Wish you could see how well my cock splits open this pussy,” he spoke between thrusts, voice low and almost sounding like he was growling out the words. “God, you feel so good around me. Warm and wet and perfectly snug. Like you were made to take my cock.” He groaned, dropping his head forward for just a moment before suddenly pulling out.

“It’s okay, pretty baby,” Chan soothed when you whined as he pulled out of you. “Here, just need to flip you over.” He quickly had you in the position he wanted – face and shoulders pressed to the bed, ass up. He gripped your hips hard, sliding back into you. The new angle felt amazing and you clutched the sheets as he started thrusting into you.

“God, baby, wish you could see yourself. See the way you take my cock so good,” he groaned out between thrusts. You whined, pushing your hips back against him. He draped himself over your back, pressing open mouthed, sloppy kisses against your shoulder. Then one of his hands left your hip to wrap around the front of your neck.

Using the hold he now had on you, he lifted you up with him, so your back stayed against his chest. You brought one hand to grip his thigh but the other one slid down your own belly and then you felt it. You looked down, just to see that you were feeling what you knew you were. “Oh God,” you moaned, seeing the bulge of his cock every time he slammed into you. “Channie,” you whined.

“What is it baby?”

“Feel.” You pulled the hand that had been on your hip over to your belly, pressing his hand against the bulge in you.

He groaned, burying his face against your shoulder and tightening his hold around your neck. You felt more than heard him whine when you clenched tightly around his cock. You could still breath, but his grip was definitely tight enough for you to get that lovely light headed feeling.

“You gonna cum, pretty baby? I can feel you gripping me. You gonna be a good girl and cum on Daddy’s cock?” You nodded as well as you could, feeling the coil tightening in your belly. He squeezed your neck hard enough to cut off your air flow, just for a second. As soon as he relaxed his grip, you gushed around his cock, orgasm crashing through you.

You were pretty sure you blanked out for a few seconds because the next thing you knew, Chan’s hand was pressed against your chest, between your tits, to hold you up and he was muttering against your neck about how good you felt coming on his cock. His thrusts had also slowed noticeably.

“Mm, back with me baby girl?” You nodded. “Gonna need words.”

It was a struggle for a moment, getting your mouth to form the words you needed. “Yes,” you nodded again. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Oh baby, you are more than okay.” You could hear the teasing edge in his voice, chuckling a little. Now that he knew you were okay, his hips picked up again, driving his cock as deep into you as he could. The hand that had been on the bulge in your belly slid down your body until his fingers slid over your clit.

You moaned, tossing your head back against his shoulder, as he rubbed firm circles against the bundle of nerves. You hadn’t thought you had another orgasm in you, particularly this soon. But you were wrong. You could already feel it building up.

He suddenly pulled out and flipped you back onto your back, then slammed back into you. “Wanna see your face when I cum in you. See your face when I make a mess in this pretty pussy,” he said over the squelching noises your pussy made with every thrust.

“Gonna fill me up? Make me all nice and messy, Daddy?” Chan groaned, dropping his face forward against your neck, and biting down harshly where your neck and shoulder met. You arched, the orgasm that had been building very suddenly crashing over you.

He pulled away, surprise on his face that mirrored your own. He didn’t comment though, instead lifting one of your legs and pressing it back toward your chest as he chased his own orgasm. It only took a handful of thrusts more before he was stilling inside you and you felt his cock twitch in your cunt, filling you with his warmth.

He collapsed against you and you held him tightly for a moment, both of you panting, until he pulled out of you as gently as he could. Still, you whined with the loss of his body on yours as he flopped down next to you.

“Who’d have thought I liked being bitten that much?” you commented after you got your breath back.

Beside you, Chan chuckled. “You really didn’t know?”

“No one’s ever bitten me before. Like little love bites or hickeys, sure. But a bite like that? Nope.”

He rolled on his side, fingers lightly tracing over the spot he’d bitten. “I may have left a mark,” he admitted.

“I have a bite mark on my neck?” you giggled. “Goes with the other marks. Pretty sure I’ll have finger bruises on my hips.”

The pair of you were quiet for a bit while he traced his fingers over the mark on your neck, down your torso, over the red marks on your hips. You could practically feel him thinking and you weren’t sure at all that you were gonna like where his thoughts were going, but you didn’t say anything for fear you were wrong about what he was thinking. You waited, knowing he’d tell you.

“You were wrong,” he whispered after a while.

“’Bout what?” you asked, matching his tone.

“About not regretting it,” he spoke quickly, like trying to rip off the metaphorical bandage. “You will. You’ll say we should just be friends and then you’ll feel awkward about it and pull away from me. And I’ll lose you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have given in, I knew it. But I wanted – want – you so bad I –” You hated the sureness and sorrow in his tone.

“Why would I, Channie?” You interrupted, your tone soft but firm. “I’ve been in love with you for years. How could I possibly regret finally having you?”

“Ah!” You giggled as he propped himself up on his elbow to look down at you, the tears you’d heard in his voice, swimming in his eyes. “What?!”

“You heard me,” you smiled up at him, reaching up and cupping his cheek. “I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with you, but I know I am. I love you, Channie.”

He leaned in, quickly scattering kisses over your forehead, cheeks, and nose, making you giggle. Then he stilled, pressing 1 – 2 – 3 soft kisses to your lips. “I love you too,” he sighed happily, a few relieved tears slipping down his cheeks. He spent another minute brushing his fingers over your skin – from your neck, down between your breasts, over your belly and back up again. “Wait here,” he pressed a kiss to your temple and rolled out of bed.

He didn’t bother pulling his boxers or anything else back on as he headed toward the bathroom. You lay on his bed, appreciating the view as he walked out. You heard the shower turn on, then he was back. He scooped you out of the bed, one arm under your knees the other under your shoulders. “Channie! Put me down, I’m too heavy!”

“You are not,” he rolled his eyes fondly as he carried you into the bathroom. Together, the pair of you showered and you let Chan gently wash you then wrap a towel around you when you stepped out of the shower. Back in his room, he gently toweled you dry and sat you on his desk chair while he quickly changed his bed sheets. Then he silently stood in front of one of his open dresser drawers.

“What’s wrong?” You asked after a moment.

“You should have something to sleep in, because I don’t know how well I’ll be able to resist you naked in my bed. But, in my t-shirt in my bed presents the same issue.”

“I did bring my overnight bag, it’s in the living room. It has my pajamas in it.”

“No.”

Smirking to yourself, you stood up from where you’d moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “I could always grab something of Innie’s. Surely he wouldn’t –” you cut yourself off at the possessive, warning look he shot you. “Or not,” you said with a small smile. He narrowed his eyes at you until you sat back down.

After a minute, he walked back out to the living room, coming in with your pajama shorts in one hand and the bag in the other. He dropped your bag beside his dresser, snagged one of his black tank tops, and tossed the two articles of clothes at you. You pulled on your clothes while he pulled on just a pair of boxers. Once he pulled on his clothes, he grabbed the snacks and drinks you’d brought in and piled them on his bedside table. Without a word, he pulled up some movie the pair of you had seen a bunch of times on Netflix, reclined against his headboard, and tugged you to lay back against his chest, between his legs.

“Here, baby. Drink this,” he opened and held out one of the fruit juices to you. Then, when you handed it back, he started steadily feeding you snacks.

It’s not like it was much, just fruit juice and pretzels, but after showering you – God. It was so sweet, so caring of him that you felt tears gathering.

“Baby, are you okay?” You were, truly, but you couldn’t find words to reassure him and tell him why you were crying all of a sudden. You could only nod. Apparently, he understood anyway. “You’re an independent woman, I know. But sometimes, it’s nice to let someone else take care of you.” He used as close to your own phrasing from that sleep deprived day as he could. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “That’s what Daddy’s here for, sweet girl.”

[cheriecoke]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ HOME COOKED MEAL — nanami kento

you bring itadori home for dinner & he gets to see a different side to kento

contents. aka you dig up some teenage photos of nanami, fem!reader, husband nanami, fluff, yuuji being your adopted son, i haven't watched the new ep (& i won't) but there is enough nanami angst so i am here to fix that — 1.7k

when you got ready to leave the school, your jacket on and bag tugged over your shoulder, you passed yuuji itadori in the halls, his expression suspiciously similar to a kicked puppy. 

yuuji perked up a bit as you walked by, offering you a small smile and a wave. and though you considered heading on home for the night, eager to see your husband, you slowed, hesitant to leave the poor kid all alone. 

“everything okay, yuuji?” you asked, frowning as he rested his elbows on his knees, studying a stain on the floor of the school. 

“hm?” the teenager glanced up, eyes bright and wide. his sweet smile was back on his face, so innocent and kind. for someone who had been through so much already, he was more caring than many people that you’d met in your life. “oh, everything’s fine. everyone’s just out on missions, so i feel a little…” he pulled up one shoulder in a shrug. “useless.” 

you knew it must have been hard for him, being a student that wasn’t quite like the others, having to train a little differently, adapt differently. but yuuji took it in stride, and he handled it better than any normal person would. 

with a nod, you secured your bag around your other shoulder, shifting your feet. “it’s just going to be you here tonight, then?” 

he hummed, sticking his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the wall. “i think so. some of the others might be around, but they’re resting up.” 

“oh.” though you were certain yuuji had no qualms about spending an evening on his own, the thought of it made you feel like you were leaving a kitten out in the rain. almost pitiful. 

yuuji waved before you could say another word, smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “have a good night! i’ll see you tomorrow.” 

the car ride was spent listening to yuuji tell you story after story, the boy opening up to you in a way that he hadn’t quite related to any of the other sorcerers, even gojo.

you smiled to yourself, enjoying his stories as you wondered how to tell kento that you were bringing your student home for dinner. 

there was still a bridge to cross between them, and though you knew they both liked the other more than they let on, kento hadn’t quite connected to the boy like he wanted to.

you hoped that by inviting him over, yuuji would see that kento, truly, wasn’t as intense as he let on. he was sweet, caring, and he did have a sense of humor… even if gojo didn’t really believe that. 

you led yuuji into the house, and stopped him when you heard the sound of kento in the kitchen. his mission had ended earlier than yours, and he’d offered to cook tonight; there would be more than enough food for the three of you. 

“i’ll be right back,” you said, tapping yuuji on the shoulder. “let me go tell kento you’re here.” 

you’d considered letting your husband know before you arrived, but you hadn’t wanted him to protest. kento would try to make a fuss of having a guest over, even if it was only yuuji, and he certainly didn’t care about formalities. 

your heart skipped when you reached kento, his back turned, finishing up the meal that was steaming on the stove. even just standing in the threshold of the kitchen, you were overwhelmed with all of your love for him. 

but it didn’t take much… it never had. you’d always been sickeningly in love with nanami kento. 

your footsteps were soft as you snuck up behind him. “kento,” you said, just above a whisper, snaking your arms around his waist. you kissed the muscles between his shoulder blades, listening to the steady thrum of blood pumping through his body. 

“hi, sweetheart.” he’d heard you approach, and he turned, eyes softening when he glanced at you over his shoulder. “everything okay at the school?”

you nodded, squeezing him tighter. even though you’d seen him just a few hours prior, it felt like a long time—time apart when you were battling curses always dragged as you worried for each other’s safety. “did your mission go okay?” you asked. 

he took your hands from around his waist, bringing them to his lips softly. “everything went fine. dinner’s almost ready so—” then, he noticed your guilty expression, one that you were clearly horrible at hiding. “is something wrong?” 

you smiled innocently. “no! i just… brought a guest.” 

kento’s eyebrows raised, his smiling falling quickly. “well, you could’ve told me before.” he sighed, shaking his head as he turned around to face you. 

“sorry, i thought i’d surprise you.” 

kento’s lips drew into a thinner line. “honey, please tell me gojo satoru is not in my house right now. he’s not welcome here anymore, because the last time he almost destroyed our fucki—” kento glanced up, his words falling away as he glanced over your shoulder. “itadori. hello. i didn’t realize you were there.” 

you turned, releasing kento as yuuji gawked back at you. he’d caught in such a loving embrace with kento. yuuji’s normally stoic teacher was in the middle of swearing, blonde hair tumbling over his forehead. kento had replaced his suit with casual wear, and his contacts had been taken out. in place of them were wire-rimmed glasses. 

“nanamin!” yuuji gasped. “you look so different.” 

“yes, well, i apologize for my apperance.” kento sighed, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “i wasn’t aware we were having guests.” 

“one guest. its just yuuji,” you said, poking him in the middle of the chest as his professional tone returned, so easily taking over. “i don’t think he cares what you’re wearing.” 

“no, i don’t!” yuuji backtracked, eyes wide as he shuffled forward. “no, you look cool, you don’t look so…” 

kento raised his eyebrows, amused, even if yuuji couldn’t detect the humor in his expression. “so what?” 

the boy’s cheeks turned pink, embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “um—”

“you don’t look like you’ve got a stick up your ass.” you said, voicing yuuji’s obvious thoughts as you kissed kento on the cheek with a short laugh. of course, it was only to embarrass him further in front of his student. 

kento feigned a scowl, but didn’t push you away, his gaze firmly planted on yuuji. “that’s because i try to keep my relationships at work strictly professional.” 

“really?” yuuji grinned, stuffing his hands back in his pockets, his posture relaxing as he grew more comfortable in your home. “not very professional to marry someone you work with, is it?” 

you laughed loudly, already caring so deeply for the boy that you’d known for such a short period of time. 

“that was certainly an accident,” kento muttered, but his fingers lingered on your spine, tracing each of the bones. “i’ll have you know we were not working together when we got together.” 

“really?” yuuji’s curiosity spiked. “how long have you been together, then?” 

you thought back to when you were teenagers, when kento had a haircut that he had since regretted, and smiled mischievously. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through old photos, back from when you were just kids, the images grainy and of much lower quality than the ones from your recent vacation. 

“hey, don’t show him those!” kento protested. he reached for your phone, but you scrambled under his arm, stretching your hand out to give yuuji the device. “itadori, don’t—” kento’s voice held a hint of panic, his cheeks hot with embarrassment as he grabbed you around the waist, trying to stop you from giving yuuji the phone. 

but it was already in yuuji’s hands, and you laughed loudly, knowing that while you looked a little more awkward than you did now, your appearance had changed near as drastically as kento’s. 

yuuji squinted his eyes at a sixteen year old nanami, blond hair long enough to reach his eyes, dressed in an all black ensemble, an earbud in one ear. kento was hardly smiling, but you beamed next to him in the photo, dressed more childishly than you were now, but just as pretty. the image from when you still fumbled around each other, unsure how to admit that you were both in love. 

a roar of laughter left yuuji as kento’s expression fell, and he released you, snapping the phone out of itadori’s palm. “that’s you, nanamin? no way. how did you…” yuuji glanced between you, squinting his eyes. “well, i guess looking at you now it makes sense.” 

“i know,” you agreed, covering your smiles with your palms. “we looked a little silly together back then. i saw the potential in him, but satoru certainly loved to make fun of us, didn’t he, ken?” 

“i have absolutely no desire to relive those days.” 

yuuji laughed. “you were just like fushiguro, i bet!” 

“scarily similar,” you agreed, as kento rolled his eyes beside you, putting your phone in his pocket to keep you from scavenging any older photos to share with the kid. “and he still loves to listen to—”

“don’t finish that sentence or i’ll save this dinner all for myself.” 

yuuji eyes flew up to his hairline, but you just snorted, knowing that kento’s threats were about as scary as a puppy.

“he’s still sensitive about it,” you whispered to yuuji. “gojo and his friends made fun of him all the time.” 

“oh really. just me?” kento retorted under his breath.

“you must have been pretty popular, then!” yuuji grinned. “if you were friends with gojo. he said all the girls in school loved him!”

kento made an irritated sound, stirring the spoon roughly against the pot. “well, satoru is the last person you should listen to. he has an ego bigger than the sun. and my wife is leading you astray. she was not similar to satoru, she was painfully shy, and it took weeks for either of us to talk to each other.” kento took the pan off the stove, peering over his shoulder at you. “and she is very lucky i love her too much to dig up any embarrassing stories of her.” 

“well, stories about me aren’t that interesting anyway.” you laughed, pointedly turning your back to kento. “yuuji, the good news is, i’ve got some more photos in kento in the old photo books. let’s go see them!” 

[retrosabers]

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

*relationship & smut hcs written with fem!reader in mind*

contains: a lot of angst (mentions of insecurity, past trauma), some relationship fluff, 18+ SMUT CONTENT BELOW THE CUT. MINORS DNI (praise kink, dry humping, fem receiving oral, a tinge of dirty talk)

word count: 2.2k

a/n: if you had a dollar for everytime i apologized for not posting, boy would you be rich LMAO

this writer’s block is no bueno. but, i can sense my bucky era coming back full throttle and i think he might be the cure. enjoy these unnecessarily angsty hcs in the meantime ;) and feel free to share any of your own!

GENERAL/PERSONALITY:

is very fond of the outdoors. he’s not a “take a hike and run a mile” kind of guy, but he gets genuine enjoyment and relaxation from sitting on a park bench and breathing in the fresh air and soaking in his surroundings. one afternoon you surprised him with a trip to a botanical garden on the outskirts of the city and he absolutely loved it. you don’t think you’ve ever seen bucky more at peace than when he was wandering amongst the greenery without an ounce of tension in his body.

can’t stand clutter. once he warms up to acquiring more belongings, everything has its designated place and it needs to stay that way. call it a mild case of ocd, or an undying need to control the ins and outs of his day to day life, but bucky can’t even think about shutting down for the night if his apartment is a mess. any files out on the table get tucked away in a well organized filing cabinet, dishes are dried and placed in the cupboard, laundry is either in the hamper or folded neatly in its respective drawer. he keeps everything as neat and pristine and possible for the sake of his sanity.

one of the only useful pieces of advice he retained from therapy was journaling. bucky still struggles a bit with verbalizing his feelings, so he often just writes them all down in lieu of talking it out. after he realizes just how much it works, he starts to journal about his days in detail. doesn’t matter if he’s feeling calm, or anxious, or how mundane the itinerary is, he makes sure to document it. partly because of the relief it brings, and just in case something happens to his memory again.

secret candle enthusiast, except it’s just one specific scent. you bought it for him as a housewarming present and he was absolutely certain that it was going to smell atrocious. what could possibly be so great about amber vanilla musk. turns out it’s the most perfect gift you ever could’ve given, so much so that he snuck over to bath and body works the next day to buy another one. the aroma fits him in a way that’s indescribable, plus it makes his apartment feel more like somewhere he wants to be rather than has to. it’s become a running gag to gift him one for every special occasion, and he always accepts it with a small, appreciative smirk.

this man is a real life disney princess. animals follow him EVERYWHERE and he’s got no clue as to why. you say it’s because they can sense at his core that he’s kind and gentle, and he always waves it off with a frown and a grumble (and a blush he desperately tries to hide). he feeds all the strays on his block, and eventually caves and brings one of them home. when you went to his place and found a tiny white kitten sitting on the counter, you thought you were hallucinating. then bucky walked in and gave a little scratch between her ears and it all pieced together.

“i knew it,” you mutter knowingly, eyes fixated on the way she preens from his touch. “you’re just a big ol’ softie.” bucky doesn’t offer any sort of rejection or rebuttal, only a halfway pointed stare before simply scooping the little animal into his arms and showing her off to you like she was a rare jewel.

he is very opposed to listening to current music, and the only way you can even remotely convince him to give things a try is if they’re on vinyl. it’s a happy medium, because even though the tunes may be vastly different than back in the 40s, he still has the familiar comfort of a record player. it’s still an uphill battle to get him to listen to anything made after 1950, but persuasion comes a bit easier when you pull out a record from your personal collection.

*psst. i have a fic about this you can kinda read about this here*

introducing him to doordash was a mistake because this man racks up an insane charge on his credit card with takeout. he hates the unnecessary socialization aspect of ordering at a restaurant so you best believe those delivery apps are his best friend.

loves to bitch and complain about maintaining his bike when in reality he enjoys it far more than he’d ever care to admit. he likes being able to fix something; to put his hands to good use and they actually have a positive impact instead of negative. offers to help any of the old timers at the va with their bikes if they have any trouble.

you know how some people get seasonal depression during the winter months from the bleak weather? bucky has that times a million, because the bone chilling cold never fails to trigger his ptsd, and send him right back into reliving his hydra days of being frozen against his will. when you catch wind of it, you make it a note to try and spend as much time with him as you can; make sure he’s not alone or that he at least has something else to occupy his mind other than his traumatic memories as the winter soldier.

IN A RELATIONSHIP:

old fashioned in the best way possible. while he strongly agrees with most of the 21st century’s stance on gender equality, he’ll never stop believing it’s a man’s job to take care of his woman. don’t get it twisted, he never tries to stifle your independence; it’s one of the many things he loves about you. but bucky can’t help but be a little “old-timey”; whether that be paying for your meals, or encouraging you to take a day off to relax while he’s working. it’s one of the only things he’s happy to have hardwired in his brain.

not entirely fond of pda but will ALWAYS have a hand on you when you’re out and about. usually a protective arm slung over your shoulder or a hand pressed into the small of your back. something that keeps you close to him for safety reasons, and also to let everyone else know that you’re taken.

doesn’t like to admit it but he can be a tad bit possessive. when you’ve spent nearly a century having zero control over your life and your choices, being territorial is inevitable. bucky will be damned if he loses the one good thing he’s ever had, especially to some punk who needs to learn how to back off. it’s a bit irritating at first, but once he lets his walls down and confesses the reason behind his actions, you let the man stake his claim every now and then. only because you know there’s no toxic intent behind it and because it’s lowkey a little hot.

#1 cheek kisser oh my GOD. this might not make sense to some people but if you’ve ever seen grey’s anatomy, derek has the most gentle way of kissing meredith on the cheek and that’s exactly how i picture buck.

the “i hate everyone but you” boyfriend (except he’s not really mean to anyone per se, he just does a complete 180 and turns into a big pile of mush when you’re around.)

king of random gestures. he loves making you happy and will take just about any opportunity he can to see you smile. you got a raise at your job? there’s a bouquet with a note waiting at your desk. sometimes you’ll come home to little “just because” presents on your dining room table because bucky can’t help but find little glimpses of you everywhere he goes. it’s his unspoken way of showing just how much he loves and appreciates you.

when he’s tired and grumpy he 100% does grabby hands (with a sweet lil pout might i add) to get you to come into bed and it’s the cutest thing ever.

sam wasn’t kidding when he said bucky’s got a staring problem, but it’s much more endearing in a romantic context. he finds you so beautiful, so mesmerizing; how is he not supposed to stare? and it won’t always be because he’s admiring you externally. sometimes he’ll be so caught up thinking about how lucky he is that you; sweet, kind, funny, and caring you, chose him as your person. he can’t help it if his eyes are glued to you while he’s pondering. everytime you catch him, he breaks out that shy little smile of his, and you find yourself falling in love all over again.

“you’re staring y’know,” you tease, feeling your face warm under his observation. he just shrugs, gaze unwavering as he saunters closer. “can’t help it.” he always take pride in watching you grow flustered as he closes the gap and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

hot take: everytime i see “doll” used in fics for him i cringe real bad. i see bucky as more of a “honey” and “sweetheart” kind of guy. more honey than anything. in all honesty, i don’t see him breaking out pet names often, but if he’s going to, it’s one of those.

throws you over his shoulder like it’s absolutely nothing when you’re being difficult or arguing because he knows it’s a way to help playfully ease tension, as silly as it is. if he can get you laughing then you’re not mad, and if you’re not mad, he can reason with you a little better. it also leads to some very delicious sex afterwards when he conveniently drops you onto the mattress.

he’ll do the sweetest thing where if your hands are full this man will come up behind you and either put your hair in a braid or a ponytail (a pretty decent one might i add) if you need it away from your face. it’s always sealed with a kiss to the crown of your head and a squeeze of your hip, and never fails to give you butterflies.

SMUT:

i swivel back and forth between thinking that he’d be a bit hesitant or shaky with intimacy or that he knows how to please a woman in under five minutes. i honestly believe it’s somewhere in the middle; that while he does indeed have experience from his whore days back in the 40s, nowadays he’s not as willing to get to that point with someone unless there are deep feelings involved.

with that being said, when bucky decides to take that step in your relationship, boy does it take you by surprise. there’s a level of confidence that comes with being able to satisfy someone with such skill and ease, and he’s got it down pat. he’s even a little bit cocky with it, looking down at you smugly after your first orgasm, and it only amplifies your already flaming attraction to the super soldier.

nine times out of ten, sex is focused on your pleasure; he’s not cumming until you’ve cum at least once, and he’s not giving you a half assed release either. no, he’s working hard to make sure you see stars every damn time.

pussy eating king and i don’t think i need to elaborate on that.

is always down for a good dry hump. bucky loves kissing, kissing you more than anything, and one day he was particularly worked up, and it just…well it just happened. he was bright red once he realized what happened, but you quickly quelled any embarrassment he felt when you expressed that it was insanely hot. he didn’t even remotely understand why, until the next time it occurred. you were the one who came prematurely. and that, was when bucky understood the arousal behind it. now he’s got no qualms about having a good old fashioned makeout that may or may not end with a shared orgasm.

praise kink praise kink PRAISE KINK. it’s something he tries his hardest to hide but the boner he pops whenever you tell him he’s doing a good job in non intimate settings, and the increased speed of his thrusts when it happens during sex, are a dead giveaway. you tell bucky he’s being so good for you, making you feel so fucking good, and that man’s a goner. in his brain, it’s refreshing, exciting almost, to be told that he’s doing the right thing after a lifetime of being forced to make the wrong choices. what better place to hear that he’s right on track than when he’s with his lover?

hung. as. fuck.

i don’t foresee him being very vocal, but when he is, jesus take the wheel. somehow he always knows what to say and when to say it, no matter how few and far between the occasions may be.

“that feel good honey? yeah that’s right it fuckin’ does.” “always gonna take real good care of my girl.”

i don’t care if he’s got the serum stamina i 100% see this man conking out after sex. while he may be able to last a few rounds, the second you call it quits, the exhaustion overtakes him and he’s snoring into your pillow, but not before he pulls you close and peppers your face with kisses, muttering a final “i love you” before succumbing to slumber.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @dameronology @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

[lqveharrington]

Just One Smile | F.W.

summary: fred weasley was always trying to see you smile. even for just a second.

pairing: fred weasley x malfoy!reader

includes: imprisonment, draco going through hardships, crying, cursing, small bit of angst, mainly fluff, fred being the best boyfriend, kissing

a/n: i’m so busy for the next couple of months 😭

When you graduated Hogwarts, the last thing on your mind was your father’s imprisonment. You knew he was doing horrible things for the Dark Lord and he got the strict punishment for it. However, you were not onboard when they suddenly chose Draco to replace your father. Draco was merely sixteen when your aunt suggested he become a Deatheater.

You were heartbroken at the development — even more so when Draco came to your room and cried in your arms right after he received his Dark Mark. He said it burned.

Unfortunately, the visit to Diagon Alley — the one place you and Draco loved to visit — wasn’t any better.

Many shops you used to enjoy as a kid had closed and the only lively place was Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Everything else seemed ransacked or broken into, and it terrified you. The impending war already began and you knew it would be for the worse. Even Narcissa Malfoy found herself holding her children’s hands tightly when they entered Borgin and Burkes.

The Deatheaters were to give Draco his task regarding the Vanishing Cabinet, but you simply couldn’t bear the thought of your baby brother being broken down into pieces of the boy he once was — it was torture. Before anyone else could regard your presence, you slipped out of Knockturn Alley and hid in the shadows of Diagon Ally.

You tipped your head back on the brick wall and simply existed. You listened to the soft wind blowing through the broken signs and the clacking of hurried feet across the bricked road. Your eyes were shut as you thumbed the engravings of three simply words on your necklace before releasing a tired sigh.

With your father in Azkaban and your mother in shambles about the entire situation, you were in charge of caring for Draco — and Merlin knows that boy could be stubborn. All you wanted to do was run away from the mess the Dark Lord created and completely leave the wizarding world, but you could never do that to your mother and brother. You could never leave him.

Taking another shaky breath, you composed yourself and entered Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. You prayed that the store would ease — distract — your mind for at least a few minutes before your mother would come find you.

And distract it did.

There were fireworks going off at every corner and the displays were so colorful you swore you were in a children’s coloring book. There were little kids running around moving staircases leading up further into the store and students testing out products that would surely get them out of class.

You only just missed a Gryffindor trying out a portable swamp. You would’ve thrown a fit if the muck got on your clothing — your aunt Andromeda gifted you the black dress for your birthday.

Tucking a strand of your platinum blonde hair behind your ear, you snuck past the love potion display and headed up the stairs, gaze glued onto a product you were a victim to many times.

Flashback: Year 3

“Why do you spend all your time trying to impress Malfoy? You know their entire family hates us.” George rested his head against his palm as he watched his twin set up an elaborate prank down the end of the dungeon hall. “More importantly, she hates you.”

“She does not!” Fred protested and settled beside him, string wrapped around one hand on his. “Besides, I just want to see one tiny little smile from her — that’s all.”

George rolled his eyes and patted his brother on the back, “Whatever you say, Freddie.”

He knew that setting dungbombs on you was not going to make you happy, but George wanted to see his twin crash and burn after your wrath. It was truly going to be a sight to see; The Slytherin Princess cursing out the Joker of Gryffindor.

Fred shoved a hand to his brother’s shoulder before peering over the half wall to spy on the students leaving the Slytherin common room. It took him weeks to memorize your schedule, and he knew Fridays were the days you would head out to the Black Lake to read.

Why willing spend your free time reading when you could do anything else? We go to a magic school, for Godric’s sake. Fred thought before shaking it off, eyes locked on your approaching figure.

Unfortunately, Frederick Gideon Weasley was about to catch you after the worst week of your life.

You were walking with your godfather when a fog of green consumed your every being. A horrid stench filled the air as you began to wave your hand in front of you face, eyes watering from how pungent the scent was. The green muck colored your blonde hair and your perfectly pressed clothes were wrinkled from how abrupt the attack was.

Snape waved his wand over the hall and scanned the growing crowd of students, piercing eyes scouring for guilty faces before scoffing. He pulled you with him and headed straight for the horrified twins he found hiding behind the stone wall.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor. Each." He glared at the Weasley boys and confiscated Fred's leftover dungbombs. "I will be owling your mother and Professor McGonagall will determine your punishments. For now, I expect you both to apologize to Miss Malfoy this instant."

You looked away from the red-haired boys, refusing to show how vulnerable you were at the moment. You were supposed to be composed and poised, but they always made your life difficult. Perhaps your father truly was right about them.

George apologized quite quickly — he knew he wasn't at fault here. On the other hand, Fred ran his fingers through his hair and met your eyes, his own widening at how cold they were. You were on the verge of tears, yet you looked like you were going to murder him.

"I'm so sorry, Malfoy. I didn't mean to—"

You shook your head and pointed a manicured nail to his chest, your grey eyes practically red. "Stay away from me, Weasley. I don't know what you and your brother have against me, but I swear to Merlin this is the very last time you prank me or my father gets your muggle obsessed father fired."

Leaving a gaping Fred and George, you whipped around toward the Slytherin common room and stayed there for the rest of the day. Snape rolled his eyes at the two boys before taking his own leave — presumably to McGonagall's office.

"Bloody hell." George rubbed his face and shook his head, eyeing his brother. He didn't know what he was thinking, but the stupid look on his face meant another stupid idea. And their pranks were rarely stupid. "What are you thinking about now?"

"How to apologize correctly."

End of Flashback

Shaking your head at the memory, you placed the colorful box of dungbombs back on the shelf and wandered across toward the stained glass window. The colors reflected their logo — purples, yellows, and oranges sticking out compared to the darkness of the current state of Diagon Alley.

More students ran behind you as they chased one another with fireworks, their shouts occupying the space. One student grabbed a Pygmy Puff and rested it on their shoulder, smiling brightly at the pink creature before running after the rest of the students.

You smiled at how joyful it truly was in this store. No matter who walked into the store, you were sure a smile instantly appeared on their faces. Turning your attention back toward the beautiful window, you noted the different shapes taking place.

Your finger traced the intricate details on the colored window, smiling at the stars decorating the edges of the logo. The stars were so messy compared to the rest of the window and you knew it was his personal touch to the logo. Especially the oh-so familiar constellation your middle name came from.

Flashback: Year 6

The Yule Ball was as entertaining as Professor Kettleburn teaching about Flobberworms. Intriguing at first but boring by the time you got to handle the actual event itself. You didn't even have a proper date because Draco or your father didn't approve of any of the men asking you. Instead, you went with a family friend from Durmstrang. But it couldn't be worse than Draco's date. He ended up taking Pansy Parkinson because he was so invested in all the different men asking you he forgot about his own date.

How pathetic.

By the end of the Yule Ball, you were already long gone. You found yourself climbing the stairs to the astronomy tower and clinging to your shawl at how frigid the air was when you made it to the top. Luckily, the sky was perfectly clear — just how you liked it when you wanted to find constellations.

You always made it your job to find your family's stars and constellations whenever you had the time, and tonight was no different. Instantly, you found aunt Andromeda's constellation, aunt Bellatrix's star, uncle Sirius' and uncle Regulus' bright stars, and your own constellation.

Right as you found your brother's dragon, you picked up on heavy footfalls ascending that staircase. You pulled your wand out only to find yourself releasing a breath of relief. If it were anyone else climbing those stairs, they would have found themselves stuck up here until someone came to counter the binding curse.

"You looked quite happy with your date." You murmured and wrapped your fingers around your necklace, allowing him to join you on your right. "Angelina Johnson?"

He hummed and looked up at the stars, "She thought I was Georgie when I asked her. Granted, I didn't think she would go with me."

"Mhm." You tilt your head to the left and gaze at his face, his features practically glowing underneath the night sky. "Did you want to ask her? To be your date, I mean."

Fred crossed his arms over the railing and met your curious stare, biting back a smile at how gorgeous you were when you didn't have to uphold your family's status. "No."

"No?"

"No." He cleared his throat and conjured a piece of parchment with a wave of his wand, unfolding the crinkled note. "I wanted to ask my dear girlfriend to the ball, but it seemed like her brother was out to get every male she encountered."

You rolled your eyes and rested your head in your palm, tucking a loose piece of blond hair behind your ear. Draco was out to get everyone for the last two months and you were glad he nor your father knew about you and Fred. It would cause an uproar between both families.

"What's that?" You gestured to the parchment in his hand, eyes gleaming with curiosity when he handed it to you. On the inside of the note, there was a messy drawing of the Lyra constellation. Each star did not look like a star, but you appreciated the effort. "When did you make this, Weasley?"

"Meant to give it to you with your Christmas Present." Fred shifted around his spot to lean back on the railing instead, keeping you in his eye line. He narrowed his eyes when you cracked the smallest smile, "What are you laughing for?"

"M'not laughing." You tuck the parchment away and school your expression. "It's just... Your stars aren't stars."

He gasped and clutched his heart in a dramatic fashion, making it seem like he was about to fall off the tower. "You wound me, princess. I worked hard on making that drawing for you."

"Well, I love it either way." You pat his chest and melt in his arms when he pulls you in, his lips kissing your forehead in an affectionate manner you were never used to. "Maybe I should put you up for drawing lessons if your Weasley products are coming out of your designs."

"George designs all our products," He countered and thumbed your green dress, the silk touch rival to the softness of your hands. "I'm merely the genius behind all charms and potions."

You hum and lace your hand with a free one of his, letting him sway the both of you to the nonexistent music. You weren't exactly sure when you stopped loathing Fred after his horrid pranks toward you, but you wouldn't change the outcome. Sure, you had to hide your entire relationship from everyone — everyone except George — but you were sure it was going to be alright eventually.

"I expect to see that brilliant mind of your displayed in a store then."

"Expect it soon." He grinned and leaned down to capture your waiting lips. "Our shop will be displayed for everyone to see, even your dear father and brother."

End of Flashback

You were so enthralled by the added constellation that you didn't notice the looming presence behind you until a voice spoke up, spooking you. Your heart was racing when you heard your name fall from the person's lips only to find the person you hadn't seen in months.

"I've been waiting for you to visit, princess." Fred crossed his arms and leaned on the shelf beside him, waving his hand to redirect a staircase toward the other side of the room, leaving the both of you isolated on a small platform of the store. "How are you feeling?"

"So tired." You whispered before wrapping yourself in his familiar hold, burying your head in his chest. "Nothing good has happened since you left, Freddie."

"I heard about your father." He murmured and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm sorry."

You scoffed and shook your head, eyes drawn to his crooked lapels. Straightening out his suit, you smoothed your hand over the front and curled your other hand lightly around his mustard colored tie. Despite everything going on, you attention to detail was always on. "Don't be, he deserved what was coming for him. I'm more worried about mother and Draco."

Fred nodded and scanned over your face. It was rare for him to ever worry about you — you were always so independent — but right now, you needed all the love an reassurance. He could see all the stress taking a toll on you. The makeup you wore did little to conceal the dark spots underneath your eyes. Most likely, you were in charge at home. With Lucius in jail and Narcissa worrying about her baby boy and husband, you had to handle all other affairs.

"Do you need a second away from all the chaos?" He gestured to the office a few steps away, lacing his hand with yours. "I can take a short break to hang around."

"I just needed a second away from the impending war outside." You muttered and flattened your hand over his heart, counting the beats per minute. "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes does help distract the mind."

"It does." He smiled down at you, earning a weak grin back. "Oh, come on. Let me see a big smile."

"I don't have one in me." You sigh. No matter what you did, the happy memories you had locked away in your mind wasn't enough to conjure a pure smile. You don't think it would be enough to even create a simple Patronus.

Fred kissed the back of your hand and watched your eyes light up at the simple gesture. "Just one smile, princess."

"Fred—"

"Please? I want to see if the former Slytherin Princess can still smile for the former Gryffindor Joker. Even for a split second." He murmured, pulling you closer to him until there was no room for movement. Tilting his head down to accommodate your height, he met your glossy eyes. "What?"

"I missed you." You admit and peck the corner of his lips. "Nothing at home can ever replace the feeling I get when I'm with you..."

"I think you missed." Fred tapped his lips with a singular finger, a mischievous grin replacing his innocent smile.

No matter your shared history with him, he would always be the prankster you met your first year. The same person your father warned you about since your birth. The memory of him pranking you in his third year haunted Fred like a ghost, but his apology made those ghosts disappear and hopefully — even if he didn't know the extent of your home life — he could make your ghosts disappear.

You narrow your eyes but make no move to correct your miscalculation, teasing him ever so slightly. "I don't make mistakes, Weasley."

"Sure, you don't." He dipped you and captured your soft lips with his, catching you by surprise. Hell, he even swallowed your gasp before you allowed yourself to get lost in his gesture. When he pulled away, he caught your bashful smile and tinted cheeks. "There we are."

"I feel like you broke some company conduct, Weasley." You put a hand over your mouth like you committed a crime, cheeks reddening by the second.

He shrugged, "I own the company."

"Fred." You gently smack his chest, earning a chuckle from him. Glancing at the huge clock behind him — each character that was displayed on the numbers representing a person in the Weasley family — you silently curse and separate from him, leaving one last kiss to his lips. "I have to go before mother realizes I completely left her side."

"Owl me when you can, princess." He squeezed your hand and sent you one last smile before you wandered out of the store.

Fred Weasley may have been an enemy from the beginning, but he was everything you could ever hope for. Especially when he could get a simple smile to grace your lips despite everything you have ever been through.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[mamasfavourite]

queen cobra

pairing: axel kovaćevic x reader

summary: the captain of cobra kai catches the eye of the captain of the iron dragons and manages to deal with her teammates and her crush on axel!

warnings: mentions of abuse, some swearing, kissing, fluff, little bit of angst and a little implication of smut at the end, kwon is alive, axel is a sweetheart, kreese is rotting in jail !

cobra kai was never your preferred environment, but you fought to survive there, even when the others tried to influence you. you were a good person and you stood by that. you just had to mask it when in the dojo. it’s not like you would be there long, the dojo was just a way to the sekai takai for you.

and you fought like fucking hell for your spot as captain.

you even dealt with the endless bullshit literally everyone except kwon and tory threw your way. before karate, you had trained boxing and taekwondo, mastering both of them. so, it was easy to say you had the highest kick of everyone your team.

which really did come in handy in moments like this! like when kwon started a stupid bet with miyagi-do over whose kicks were highest. the highest anyone had gone was some kid from the russian team named vlad.

169cm.

kwon hid you for the time being, as the miyagi-do male captain and him faced off in front of the crowd of sekai takai contestants. when they shook hands, you watched as he put chalk to his shoe and swung his leg as high as he could.

175cm.

the crowd cheered, surprised by the height he had managed. you and kwon only laughed. he stepped to the side to let you foward. “show them, captain.”

you grabbed the chalk from the ground and locked eyes with robby as you rubbed it on your shoe. you kicked as high as you could, marking an almost inhumanely high point on the wooden whale statue.

you had to admit you couldn’t eyeball the measurements on that one, but you had won by far.

there was a mixture of gasps and applause as your cobras immediately crowded around you, celebrating your easy victory. you stepped foward to the miyagi-do’s, and stuck out your hand to accept your prize.

a whole room to yourself!

you and the cobras were walking back to the hotel. you all had met up with sensei kim at a karate gym on the other side of the city, and were only now getting back. you walked ahead of the others, not really wanting to speak to them right now.

as you entered the hotel reception, you noticed a few familiar people your age, they were most likely from the same dojo. you were walking quite slow so you had time to observe.

on the couches were, a dark skinned girl, who was chewing loudly and texting on her phone and an asian boy, who seemed to be staring into nothing at all.

as you turned your attention back straight, you saw an incredibly cute boy, he looked european to you in some way, maybe scandinavian.. or slavic? you didn’t care! he towered over you, and you took a second to appreciate his features, his messy brown hair and dark green eyes, his sculpted face and built arms.

you shot him a flirty smile as you kept walking, which almost made him drop the plates he was carrying.

“axel! what the fuck? can’t you hold a plate?” the girl from the couch called out. ‘oh so she was a bitch!’ you thought, but dismissed it as you continued walking, the cobras following closely behind, chuckling at the scene.

how could he! he was such a fucking prick. yoon was already getting on your nerves but you lost your shit when he was bitching at you just because you were chosen captain over him.

you unknowingly stomped past your locker room, and accidentally pushed into the wrong one. but you heard something and quieted down. you heard loud, echoing grunts, hits and yells of “ais!”

you snuck to the doorframe, sneakily peering inside and seeing the cute boy from the lobby the day before. he was training with his sensei, delivering strike after strike to the punching mitts ahead of him.

he was insanely focused, and incredibly strong. even through the gi, you could tell he was built. the force behind his punches were insane, but his sensei withdrew from him immediately.

“what are you doing wrong?” his sensei yelled firmly and all of a sudden the incredibly powerful demeanour axel had just flaked away. he flinched as the older man threw the mitts to the floor.

you watched as his sensei struck the poor boy, you had almost grown attached to. not once, not twice. you could tell he had to hold himself back after the third time. he picked up the mitts and commanded axel to continue.

but before he even landed a second punch, the mitts were on the floor again and axel was being hit. you heart hurt to watch it. you let out a soft gasp.

axel turned his head at the sound and saw you, you shot him a sad smile and walked through the hallway, hearing his sensei yell at him as you kept walking forward.

the cobras wanted to go somewhere and get drunk, and as their captain, you had to go. plus you had secretly hoped you might bump into the guy you had been crushing on for the last two days.

kwon was slumped against the counter, trying to maintain a conversation with you, but miserably failing. yoon and the others were standing around tory, trying to make their lazy advances that seemed to go completely unnoticed.

“씨발, 나 산책하러 가야 돼.. 안전하게 지내라, 얘들아 (fuck this, i’m going on a walk, get home safe boys.)” tory practically growled at you, still insulted by the fact she couldn’t speak your language but the remainder of the team telling you goodnight or to stay safe.

you left your half empty bottle of beer on the counter as you walked out, heading straight for the beach. it was calm, and quiet, and for a second you thought you heard the same sounds as earlier.

“ais! ais!” you heard and you recognised the voice, turning to watch as axel stood a couple metres away from you, shirtless, practising his kata. you watched for a couple moments before you spoke up.

“that’s a really cool kata, what’s it called?” he immediately turned around. he smiled at the sight of you and answered softly, “it’s called enpi.”

you nodded and were about to answer before he spoke again, “i don’t mean to be rude, but it’s a pretty common kata, and you’re an incredible fighter, i’m shocked you don’t know it.”

you looked at the floor for a second, before meeting his eyes, as they watched you. “it’s okay! i’m originally a kick-boxer and i studied taekwondo, so that’s my more proficient area.. i can apply a lot of it to karate though so it’s perfect!”

he nodded and gave you a small smile as he continued the conversation with you. “you’re incredibly strong in karate, i wouldn’t have noticed!” he spoke to you.

you stepped closer to him and brushed his arm. “thank you, you’re very strong, i mean clearly.” you said, trying to make it clear you were flirting with him. “i-thank you.” his smile turned bashful and he felt his cheeks heat up.

“you’re amazing.” he said, and immediately paused to reformulate his statement. “i-mean your dojo’s amazing!” you beamed at him. he was honestly so cute you wanted to squeal sometimes.

you smiled, about to speak but he beat you to it once more. “can i join?” he asked you, and you immediately felt yourself get kind of excited at the idea.

“the cobras? i mean, the boys are stupid but kwon’s okay, he just tries to overcompensate when he’s around others but he’s such a sweetheart i promise-“ you began to ramble.

“i meant your walk..” he replied, almost annoyed with himself that he interrupted you once more. you smiled at him once more and accepted. “of course!” you watched as he turned around to grab his jacket.

your eyes fixed on his back, and the scars covering it. you touched them experimentally and felt his body tense under your hand. “i-i’m sorry.. are you okay?” you asked him, empathy laced in your voice.

he quickly grabbed his jacket and put it on, hiding his back from you. “i’m okay.” he quickly dismissed you. you slid your hand into his and nodded somberly. the pair of you started to walk towards the footpath.

you responded to him. “you don’t have to talk to me about it, but i know what it’s like to have an abusive sensei and it’s always okay to not be okay.” you turned your head to face him as he did the same for you.

“thank you. it means a lot.” he smiled softly as you both stood still and he stared at your face. you asked him to lean down a little bit, claiming you had a “secret” to whisper to him.

once he was close enough to your height, you reached onto your tippy toes and gave him a soft peck on the cheek. you let out a soft giggle as you did and he could’ve sworn he felt his heart beat out of his chest.

you had stumbled upon the cobras, well not all of them, but yoon and a few others. they were clearly drunk and yoon smirked as he saw you. “y/nnn, who’s the guy?” yoon asked, cockily as he dragged out the last letter.

axel’s hand tightened protectively against yours.

“who would’ve thought our captain’s with the enemy..” another boy pressed behind him, and you couldn’t quite make out who it was but it enraged you. you replied to them sharply, with authority.

“you know, i’m sure sensei kim would love to hear that her star fighter was being preyed on by a bunch of drunk losers on her team.” that’s when the remainder of the cobras scattered, but yoon stood in place. you were loosing your patience, and so was axel.

“and i’m sure sensei kim would love to hear that her star fighter is fucking around with some pussy off the hong kong team.” yoon cockily challenged you, but axel stepped forward instantly.

you put a hand on his chest and pushed him back, reassuring him you’d handle it but he kept his fists clenched in preparation.

you stepped towards yoon and spoke to him loudly. “지난번에 팀원 중에 나한테 엉뚱한 짓을 한 사람이 있었던 걸 기억나? (remember what happened the last time someone on the team fucked with me?)” he swallowed and waited for you to continue.

“그러니 그런 일이 일어나기 전에 빨리 호텔로 돌아가세요. (so get your pussy ass back to the hotel before it happens to you).” and with that, he sprinted in the opposite direction, following after his teammates.

you turned back to axel and smiled, “i’m so sorry, you had to be there for that.” you spoke softly to axel and you felt his rough hands envelope yours. “it’s okay, i’m sorry you have to put up with that.” he answered. gazing into your eyes.

“it’s okay, it’s not your fault. it’s all you expect from egotistical teenage boys.” you smiled a little, trying to lighten the mood a little bit.

“i’m not like that, am i?” he asked you, worried that he was like them. you instantly shook your head. “nonono, axel, not at all.” your gaze flicked between his lips and his eyes and he noticed it.

he held himself back, with the worry that you may have only done it as a mistake, or a way to make sure he was comfortable. he released one of your hands and the pair of you kept light conversation as you walked.

outside your hotel, he stopped. “we’re in the same hotel, axel, we don’t need to split up.” you turned to face him and watched as his brow furrowed slightly, in thought. he brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

you leant into his touch and looked up at him, knowing it was his way of making a move. you reached as high as you could to put a hand on the back of his neck, and the other rested on his chest as you pulled him into you.

his lips met yours. they were soft and you couldn’t help yourself. his hands reached down to your waist before he pulled away.

“we should probably go to our rooms now.” he said, and you giggled softly, once again, still excited from your kiss. you nodded in agreement, as you held hands again and walked to the elevator.

as soon as the doors shut, he couldn’t help himself any more and pressed you softly against the wall as you continued what you had done just a few minute prior, outside the hotel.

except this time, it was deeper, and it was hungry. his hands wandered over your body, tapping under your thighs, telling you to jump, and as you did, his strong arms held you, kneading at the flesh there as he continued to attack your lips.

at some point, when the pair of you were so wrapped up in eachother, the elevator doors opened. he frowned as you pulled away from him and commanded him jokingly to “put you down!”

he did, and just as you were about to leave, he spoke up once more. “let me walk you back.” and you accepted, still giddy from your stolen kisses.

once you reached your door you smiled and leant up to peck him on the cheek. “goodnight, axel!” and just as you turned around he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him once more.

he kissed you one last time before you went inside. “goodnight beautiful.” he smiled as he started walking away. it took you too seconds before you called after him, dragging him back once more.

“axel, i do have a room to myself… if you wanted to put it to good use?”

[pandapetals]

sunlight & sawdust

epilogue

previous chapter

summary: For two years, Joel Miller has done nothing but scowl at you from across the room, barely tolerating your warmth, your kindness, and your ever-present sunshine. And for two years, you’ve told yourself his gruffness doesn’t bother you—that his clipped words and cold stares don’t matter. But then, out of nowhere, he offers to fix the damaged floor in your flower shop for free. Suddenly, the man who could barely stand to look at you is showing up every day, fixing things that don’t need fixing, sharing quiet lunches, and—most shocking of all—getting along with Ellie, your daughter, who has never warmed up to anyone as quickly as she has to him.

pairing: joel miller x fem!single mom reader - no outbreak/au

content warnings: slight reader description, no y/n used, grumpy joel, grumpy x sunshine trope, ellie is reader's daughter, reader is a single mom, tommy being a meddler, reader is friends with tommy, au setting in Austin, joel is a carpenter, reader owns a flower shop, fluff, angst, and eventual smut, joel is bad at feelings, sarah mentioned

a/n: divider by @saradika-graphics. Alright, well. I’m crying because this is the end. I am so grateful for all the love and support.

Two months later…

Life had settled into something easy, something Joel never thought he’d have again.

It was in the small moments that snuck up on him when he wasn’t looking.

Stopping by your flower shop on his lunch breaks—not because he needed anything, but just to see you. To sit with you, sharing sandwiches wrapped in paper, listening to you talk about your day while he worked through a cup of coffee. Sometimes, Ellie would be there, her little feet swinging from the counter as she carefully arranged flowers, pausing only to ask Joel if dinosaurs would’ve liked flowers, too.

Joel never had an answer, but Ellie would always supply one, giggling as she made up some wild story about T-Rexes sniffing roses.

Most evenings, he’d end up at your place, easing into the rhythm of your life like he’d always been there.

Ellie had a habit of finding him the second he walked through the door, dragging him to the couch with a book already in hand.

She had favorites, of course—books about dinosaurs or space. Joel had read them all a dozen times over, but every time she looked up at him, wide-eyed, hanging onto every word, he’d start from the beginning like it was brand new.

More often than not, she’d fall asleep right there, tucked into his side, small fingers curled into his shirt. And every time, without fail, you’d appear in the doorway, arms crossed, a soft smile on your face.

"You spoil her, you know," you’d tease in a whisper, watching as he carefully shifted, lifting Ellie into his arms and carrying her to bed.

Joel would smirk, brushing a piece of hair from Ellie’s face as she settled into her pillow. "Ain’t spoilin’ her if she deserves it."

Then, it would be just the two of you, curling up in bed, his body solid and warm against yours.

You had a habit of playing with his hair, running soft fingers over his skin, and tracing patterns over his chest until his breath evened out. Then, he drifted to sleep with you safely tucked against him.

Sometimes, he’d wake in the middle of the night, feeling the gentle weight of your arm draped over him, the steady rise and fall of your breath.

Sometimes, that old familiar ache crept in—the guilt, the shadow of before. The thought was that maybe he didn’t deserve this, but then, he’d see you in the morning light, hair messy, eyes soft with sleep as you handed him a cup of coffee with a knowing smile.

Or he’d hear Ellie giggling as she ran through the house, telling him some nonsense story, looking at him like she’d known him her whole life.

And that ache, that gnawing feeling—it was replaced by something else.

By the echo of Sarah’s voice in the back of his mind.

It’s okay, Dad. You deserve to be happy.

So Joel believed it.

He hadn’t planned on letting himself have this. Hadn’t planned on getting too close, but then there was you and Ellie. You both ran to him without hesitation, seeking comfort, trusting him in a way he hadn’t felt in years. You had opened your life up to him, let him in, given him a place to belong again, and Joel couldn’t shut himself off.

Not when you had been so unwaveringly open with him. Not when Ellie beamed at him like he hung the damn moon, curling up at his side like it was the safest place in the world. Not when you looked at him like he mattered.

One night, as you lay together in bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting golden light across the room, you had turned to him, voice barely above a whisper.

“I was scared.”

Joel had frowned, shifting to face you fully, his hand instinctively reaching for yours.

You blinked quickly, your lashes wet, a sad smile tugging at your lips. "When I first had Ellie. When it was just me, I was terrified of being a single mom. Of screwing her up. Of not being enough."

Joel felt his chest tighten, his heart ache at the raw honesty in your voice.

You swallowed, your fingers gripping his a little tighter. “I never thought I’d have this. Have you.”

Joel exhaled sharply, his grip on you firm but gentle, grounding. The vulnerability in your eyes and the quiet confession of fear wrecked him because he knew that feeling.

He knew what it was to worry that you weren’t enough.

He reached for you, pulling you against him and holding you close. His lips pressed a slow, lingering kiss on your forehead.

"I got you, sweetheart," he murmured against your skin. "You ain't gotta be scared anymore."

Your breath hitched, and Joel felt the way you melted into him and trusted him to hold not just your body but your heart.

His arms tightened around you like some part of him knew he needed to hold on, like if he let go, you might slip right through his fingers.

You exhaled softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s like we were made for each other."

Joel went still. The words wrecked him. More than when you’d first told him you loved him. More than anything else you’d ever said. Because you meant it.

His hand kept moving against your back, slow, steady circles, grounding himself as the weight of that realization settled deep in his chest.

He needed you. Ellie. This life and the thought of ever losing it. His heart clenched, a sharp, quiet panic threading through his ribs.

It scared him—more than he’d ever admit.

Then you shifted against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck and letting out a small, contented sigh. Your fingers traced absent-minded shapes against his chest, warm and familiar, like you belonged there, like you always had.

Suddenly, the fear didn’t seem so big.

Joel let out a slow breath, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he murmured, voice rough with tenderness. “We were.”

____________

You had been with Joel for a few months, though it felt like forever. Life had a way of slipping into place so naturally, so effortlessly, with him that you barely remembered what it had been like before.

Everything was simple.

It was not always easy—because nothing with Joel came easy—but simple in the way that mattered. The way he made space for you in his life. The way you fit into it, like you had always belonged there.

But Joel still had his moments.

The nights he’d go quiet, his eyes distant, walls creeping back up before he realized he was doing it. Old habits were hard to break.

You knew that. So you didn’t push. Didn’t demand. Didn’t pry open the doors, he wasn’t ready to unlock. You just waited.

And slowly, he let you in.

You had been to Joel’s house a handful of times, but you had never stayed the night. Not because you didn’t want to, but because it was easier for Joel to stay at your place.

That was where Ellie’s books were stacked in a crooked pile by the couch, where her favorite stuffed giraffe sat waiting for her on her pillow.

That was where she felt safe, and Joel would never take that from her.

However, tonight was different.

Your mother had come into town and, much to your surprise, offered to watch Ellie for the night. You had hesitated at first—because as much as you wanted a night alone with Joel, it was hard to leave Ellie behind—but the opportunity was too good to pass up.

So here you were, standing on Joel’s front porch, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and his favorite western film in the other.

His brows lifted when he opened the door, amusement flickering in his deep brown eyes.

“Darlin’,” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Ain’t I supposed to be spoilin’ you?”

You gave him a pointed look before brushing past him into the house. “Don’t start, handsome. My mom’s in town, and I wanted to see you.”

You paused just long enough to let the words settle before adding something softer and more honest. “I missed you.”

Joel shut the door behind you, following you into the living room with slow, deliberate steps. “We just saw each other yesterday,” he teased, though there was a warmth in his voice, in the way his lips quirked up like he liked hearing it.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against him. His body was warm, solid, and when he dipped his head, his lips skimmed the edge of your jaw.

“Missed me that much, huh?”

You exhaled a laugh, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. “You really wanna act like you didn’t miss me, too?”

Joel huffed, his breath hot against your skin. “Didn’t say that.”

“Mm-hmm.” You smirked, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Just admit it, Miller. You were lonely without me.”

Joel turned you in his arms, his eyes darkening just a bit as he studied you. “That's what you wanna hear?”

Your heart fluttered.

His hands slid lower, settling on the small of your back as he leaned in. His voice dropped to a slow, rough whisper. “Yeah, I missed you, too.”

"I figured so," you murmured, your fingers trailing along the bridge of his nose, then down to his jaw, memorizing every rough edge and smooth plane.

Joel's eyes fluttered closed momentarily, his expression softening under your touch. But when he opened them again, something knowing was in them, like he could already tell where your thoughts were headed.

"Sweetheart," he said, voice low, a hint of a warning in it. "Don't start all that."

You grinned, tilting your head as your fingers slid into his hair, nails grazing lightly against his scalp. "Start what?"

Joel huffed, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. "You know what."

Feigning innocence, you pressed closer, standing on your toes to brush your lips against his. "I just missed you, that’s all."

Joel let out a low chuckle, his hands tightening at your waist for a fleeting second like he was tempted—before he pulled back, shaking his head.

“Darlin’, if you wanna eat sometime tonight, we should start cookin’ before you go distractin’ me with those lips.”

You groaned dramatically, letting your forehead fall against his chest. “Ugh, Joel, c’mon. I came over here with whiskey and a movie, and you’re making me wait?”

His chest rumbled with laughter. “Ain’t makin’ you do nothin’.”

You lifted your head, narrowing your eyes at him playfully. “Fine,” you relented, sighing like it was the biggest inconvenience in the world. “We’ll cook first. Then you can make it up to me.”

Joel chuckled, brushing a kiss against your forehead before stepping back and nodding toward the kitchen. “Atta girl. Now, you gonna help me, or you just gonna sit back and look pretty?”

You shot him a grin. “Can’t I do both?”

He shook his head, smirking as he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the kitchen.

____________

The movie dragged on. It was a slow, dusty western that Joel was entirely absorbed in, but you? Not so much.

Your attention drifted, first to his lack of home decor—plain walls, minimal furniture, everything practical, nothing decorative. The most personal thing in the whole place was a coffee ring stain on his side table.

Then your focus shifted to something far more interesting. Him.

God, he was handsome even though he didn’t seem to think so. Even though he always scoffed whenever you told him. That dark brown hair, the streaks of silver at his temples. The firm curve of his jaw, the way his broad shoulders stretched against his worn-out t-shirt. And his eyes—those eyes—warm and deep, like aged whiskey, catching the flickering glow of the TV.

“You’re starin’, darlin’,” Joel muttered, not looking away from the screen.

You smirked, shifting closer to him on the couch, pulling your legs up to curl beside you. “Maybe I just like what I see.”

He let out a low grunt, still watching the screen. “Movie’s on, sweetheart.”

“I noticed,” you teased, resting your chin on his shoulder, deliberately pressing closer so he could feel your warmth against him. “But this is so boring.”

Joel exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Boring? This is a classic.”

“Hate to break it to you, handsome, but it’s just a bunch of cowboys staring at each other dramatically.”

“That’s called tension.”

“That’s called bad pacing,” you countered, letting your lips brush against his neck, just enough to make his breath hitch. “Know what’s not boring, though?”

Joel turned his head slightly, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes were darker now, his jaw tense like he was fighting the pull of you. “What’s that?”

You swung a leg over his lap, straddling him with a playful smirk. “This.”

Joel let out a slow, controlled exhale, his hands automatically finding your hips. “Now, darlin’, I thought we were watchin’ a movie.”

Your fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt, dragging along the exposed skin of his chest. “I changed my mind.”

Joel swallowed hard, his grip tightening just a little. “That right?”

You leaned in, lips barely brushing his, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Mhm. I think we should find something else to do.”

Joel’s smirk deepened as he traced his thumbs slowly over your hips. “You know, sweetheart, you’re makin’ me think you only came over here to get laid.”

You smiled against his lips, your fingers skimming up the nape of his neck, toying with the curls there. “Maybe I did,” you murmured, teasingly kissing his jaw. “Can you blame me?”

Joel sucked in a slow breath through his nose, his grip tightening.

“Don’t tell me you’re not into it,” you continued, shifting slightly in his lap, feeling the proof that he definitely was. “Because I can just—” You started to move off him, feigning innocence.

Joel didn’t let you get far. His hands clamped down on your hips, keeping you firmly in place. “Oh, no you don’t,” he rasped, voice dropping to that low, rough drawl that sent shivers down your spine. “I’m just tryin’ to be a gentleman, honey. But if I had it my way, you wouldn’t have made it through the door without me takin’ you on the floor.”

Heat flared in your stomach; your thighs squeezed around him. “That so?”

Joel tilted his head, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing, torturously slow. “Mhm. Think about it, darlin’. Door barely closed behind you, and I’d have you up against it—” His hands slid lower, gripping the backs of your thighs, pressing you closer until there was no space left between you. “Dress bunched up, legs wrapped around me—”

A quiet gasp slipped from your lips as he rolled his hips up into yours, slow but firm, dragging friction exactly where you needed it.

“Or maybe the couch,” he continued, voice like gravel, his mouth skimming along your jaw, down your throat. “Could’ve had you right here, ride me slow while that goddamn movie plays in the background.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders. “Joel.”

He hummed in satisfaction at your voice's breathlessness and how you were already unraveling just from his words.

He leaned back slightly, dragging his lips just out of reach, the hint of a smirk still playing at them.

“Still wanna tease me about my movies, darlin’?”

You grinned, brushing your nose against Joel’s, your lips barely grazing his. “I’ll always tease, handsome.”

Joel huffed out a low chuckle, shaking his head, but his hands told a different story—gripping your ass with a firm squeeze that had you gasping. A squeal of surprise slipped from you before he swallowed it with a kiss, deep and possessive.

“Maybe I oughta teach you some damn manners,” he murmured against your lips, voice thick with amusement but there was a roughness beneath it, a promise.

A delicious shiver ran down your spine. His words sent a spark straight between your thighs.

“Wait—” You barely had time to catch your breath before Joel’s hands gripped your hips, flipping you effortlessly onto your back. You landed against the couch with a soft thud, blinking up at him, breathless, dazed.

He didn’t waste a second. His mouth was on you before you could form another word, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking gently at the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“Still feel like teasin’?” he drawled, voice rough as his lips traveled lower, over the neckline of your dress.

You exhaled sharply, arching into him. “Maybe,” you whispered, just to push his buttons.

Joel groaned, shaking his head like you were impossible, but the way his hands started working your dress higher, gathering the fabric in deliberate strokes, told you he was more than happy to take on the challenge.

He pushed the material up past your thighs, his fingers tracing feather-light over the tops of your stockings, before dipping lower, to where you were already warm and aching for him.

A pleased hum rumbled in his chest as he hooked his fingers under the band of your underwear, dragging them down inch by agonizing inch. “Damn, sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling his knuckles along the inside of your thigh. “Already so wet for me?”

Heat flared in your cheeks, but you refused to look away, to let the weight of his gaze fluster you. “Told you I missed you,” you teased, voice barely above a whisper.

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, something dark flickering behind his eyes, before he leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Then let me make up for lost time.”

With a swift tug, Joel pulled your underwear down your legs and tossed them behind him, not giving a damn where they landed. His rough hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide, exposing every slick inch of you to his hungry gaze.

A deep groan rumbled in his chest, his dark eyes locked onto you like you were the only thing that mattered. He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, his breath heavy and uneven. “Look at you,” he muttered, voice thick with want. “So damn pretty, honey.”

The warmth of his breath against your bare skin sent a shiver rippling through you. Your head fell back against the couch, anticipation building so fast it made you dizzy.

“Joel,” you whined, lifting your hips slightly, searching for friction, for relief. “Please.”

He hummed in amusement, his hands pressing firmly against your thighs to hold you still. “Always so needy for me, huh?” He leaned in, his nose grazing your inner thigh, his lips brushing featherlight over your skin, making you squirm. “You don’t gotta beg, sweetheart. I’ll always give you what you need.”

Then, finally, his mouth was on you.

A sharp gasp tore from your lips as he wrapped them around your clit, sucking gently, teasing you with deliberate flicks of his tongue. A strangled moan followed, your fingers flying to his hair, tangling in the thick strands as heat coiled tight in your belly.

Joel groaned against you, the sound vibrating through every inch of your body. He licked into you, slow at first, savoring every little twitch, every desperate noise that spilled from your lips.

“Fuck,” he murmured between strokes of his tongue, voice rough, wrecked. “Tastes so goddamn sweet.”

Your body arched, chasing more, needing more, but Joel kept you pinned, entirely at his mercy. “Patience, darlin’,” he drawled, his fingers digging into your thighs. “Ain’t lettin’ you go till I’ve had my fill.”

Your moans filled the dimly lit room, each one sweeter than the last as your fingers twisted in Joel’s hair, tugging desperately. You knew he loved this—loved tasting you, loved wrecking you with nothing but his mouth and hands until you were trembling beneath him.

His tongue dragged slow and purposeful over your clit before he sealed his lips around it, sucking just hard enough to make your whole body jolt. A broken cry left your throat, your hips lifting, but Joel’s hands pressed you right back down, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“That’s it, honey,” he rasped against you, the heat of his breath making you shudder. “Take it. Let me hear you.”

He slipped two thick fingers inside you, the stretch making your breath hitch, your walls clenching around him. He worked you open, pumping them slow, curling just right, his lips never leaving your clit.

Your back arched off the couch, your thighs trembling around his head. “Oh, yes—fuck, Joel.”

He groaned at the way you said his name, the deep vibration shooting straight through you. His free hand slid up your stomach, splaying against your hip, holding you steady as he sped up, fucking you with his fingers while his tongue teased mercilessly.

You tugged harder at his hair, your legs threatening to snap shut around his head, but Joel only growled, his grip tightening. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere, sweetheart,” he muttered, voice thick with hunger. “Not till I feel you come all over my tongue.”

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking beneath Joel as he lapped up every drop of your release. You gasped, a sharp cry escaping as your walls pulsed around his fingers, pleasure rolling through you in waves. But Joel didn’t stop.

He groaned into you, the sound low and rough, his tongue still flicking against your clit, his fingers still thrusting deep. Your body twitched, overstimulated, but he held you down, keeping you spread open for him.

“Joel—fuck, I—” You whimpered, tugging at his hair, trying to pull him away.

His grip on your thighs only tightened. “Just one more, gorgeous,” he murmured, the heat of his breath making you shudder. “Be a good girl for me.”

A helpless moan slipped from your lips as his fingers curled just right inside you, dragging against that perfect spot. He knew your body too well now—knew exactly how to push you past your limits. He flattened his tongue against your clit, sucking softly before flicking it just how you liked, coaxing you right back up to the edge.

Your breath hitched. Your thighs trembled. That unbearable pressure coiled in your belly all over again, impossibly fast.

“That’s it,” Joel rasped, voice dripping with pride as he felt your walls clench around his fingers. “Knew you had another one in you.”

A sharp cry tore from your throat as pleasure hit you again, your back arching off the couch. Your fingers twisted tighter in his hair, your whole body tensing before you shattered, your second orgasm ripping through you just as fiercely as the first.

Joel groaned against you, drinking in your pleasure like a man starved, only pulling away when you whimpered, your body spent and trembling beneath him.

He pressed slow, lazy kisses to the inside of your thigh, his voice thick with satisfaction. “There you go. That’s my good girl.”

You sighed, boneless against the couch, a lazy, satisfied smile curling on your lips. “God, I don’t see how you’re so skilled.”

Joel smirked, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb before licking it clean. “God’s got nothin’ to do with it, sweetheart.”

You huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes as you swatted at his bicep. “Smartass.”

Joel caught your wrist before you could pull away, his grip firm but warm. “Mm, that's the thanks I get?” He leaned in, brushing his lips over yours, teasing but not quite kissing you yet. “Ain’t exactly fair, considerin’ I just had you fallin’ apart for me twice.”

Heat flushed through you again, but you refused to let him have the upper hand. You ran your fingers down his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, the way his muscles tensed slightly under your touch. “Guess I’ll just have to return the favor, then,” you murmured, tilting your head, eyes flicking up to his with a challenge.

Joel’s smirk faltered briefly, his pupils darkening as he exhaled through his nose. “Now, darlin’, I was fixin’ to let you rest for a minute.”

You traced lazy circles over his stomach, slipping lower. “Who said I needed a break?”

His jaw ticked, his grip on your wrist tightening for a moment before he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You really are somethin’ else.”

“And you love it,” you quipped, grinning.

Joel sighed, feigning exasperation, but his smile gave him away. “Yeah, I do.” Then, in one swift move, he had you pinned beneath him again, his mouth finally capturing yours in a slow, deep kiss. “Now, how ‘bout you put that smart mouth to good use, huh?”

____________

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting soft golden streaks across the bed. Joel slept soundly beside you, his arm draped over your waist, his breath slow and deep against your shoulder. He wasn’t a morning person—you had learned that early on. It took at least two cups of coffee and a solid ten minutes of grumbling before he was fully functional.

You smiled, taking a quiet moment just to admire him—the crease between his brows even in sleep, the way his lips were slightly parted, the warmth of his arm that, even now, instinctively tightened around you when you shifted.

Carefully, you eased out from under his arm, moving slowly so as not to wake him. You reached for the first thing you could find—Joel’s shirt from the night before—and slipped it on, the fabric draping over you like a second skin. Your underwear was kicked somewhere near the bed, so you stepped into them before padding out of the room, deciding you’d make him coffee. Maybe breakfast, if he had anything besides whiskey and canned soup in his pantry.

As you passed down the hall, one door caught your attention. It was cracked open just slightly.

Joel’s woodworking room.

He had shown it to you once in passing, never making a big deal, just a brief mention that he liked to carve. But you had seen how his hands lingered over his work and his voice softened when he spoke about it.

Pushing the door open a little more, you stepped inside. The scent of sawdust and varnish filled the space, and in the morning light, you could see the careful work he had put into the small figures on his workbench. Tiny animals, wooden stars, even a couple of intricate, half-finished pieces you couldn’t quite identify.

Your fingers traced over one of them, a small giraffe.

Ellie loved giraffes. A warm ache spread through your chest. Joel would never say it out loud, but he had made this for her.

As you glanced around, your eyes landed on a small set of drawers tucked into the corner of the room. You hesitated before pulling one open, half-expecting to find spare tools or scraps of wood. Instead, your breath hitched.

Photographs.

Some were newer—pictures of Ellie, a couple of you, and her at the shop that you hadn’t even known Joel had taken. But beneath those, slightly worn and curling at the edges, were older photos.

Sarah.

Your fingers hovered over one of the pictures, Joel grinning beside a teenage girl with warm brown eyes and the biggest smile. Another of her sitting on his shoulders, arms stretched out like she was flying. There was one of just her alone, a birthday cake in front of her, candles mid-flicker as she beamed at the camera.

Your chest tightened.

You had heard stories of Sarah and knew she had been Joel’s entire world before everything fell apart. He didn’t talk about her often, and you never pushed. But seeing these now—this quiet, tucked-away part of his life—made something in your throat tighten.

Your fingers traced over the edges of the photographs one last time before carefully placing them back, your heart still tight in your chest. But just as you started to close the drawer, something else caught your eye.

Ellie’s drawing.

The crayon-streaked paper stood out amongst the neatly stacked items, its colors vibrant against the worn wood. You picked it up gently, recognizing Ellie’s messy handwriting scrawled in the corner: “Thank you, Mr. Joel.”

A smile tugged at your lips.

The drawing was from months ago—before you and Joel had even started dating, back when he had stubbornly insisted on helping you fix the broken floorboards in your shop. You had protested, of course, but he had just grumbled something about "not lettin’ you break your damn neck" and got to work.

Joel had kept this?

Your chest ached at the thought. Ellie’s version of him was a near-perfect representation—the slightly messy hair, the ever-present green flannel, the scowl that somehow still held warmth.

You placed the drawing down carefully, but your gaze landed on something else beneath it as you did.

A book. No, the journal you had given Joel for his birthday.

You had thought it was a terrible gift at the time. The man was a walking barricade of emotions, locked up so tight it was a miracle he ever let anything slip through. He had been opening up more since you started dating, but you had never expected him actually to use the journal.

Your fingers hesitated over the leather cover, your pulse quickening.

This was private. You were already pushing boundaries by being here and going through things that Joel probably didn’t even realize you were seeing. You should put it back and walk away.

And yet…

Your hands moved before your mind could catch up.

The journal flipped open somewhere in the middle, and your breath caught in your throat—something pink, delicate, pressed between the pages.

A tulip.

Your tulip.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you carefully picked up the journal, running your fingers over the petals. It had been months, so long that you had almost forgotten. You had worn the flower in your hair that day at the diner. Ellie had insisted on it, and you had forgotten about it.

Joel had noticed.

He had always noticed.

Even back then—before the first kiss, before the quiet nights curled up in bed together, before you realized you loved him—Joel had already cared.

More than you had ever known.

You swallowed hard, pressing the flower gently back into place, closing the journal with the same care as if it were something sacred.

Softly, you closed the drawer, momentarily pressing your hand against the wood before leaving downstairs. The house was still, the early morning light filtering through the windows in golden slants. You moved on autopilot, filling the coffee pot, as the rich scent slowly filled the kitchen. You leaned against the counter, your mind still stuck on the quiet revelations from Joel’s woodworking room.

He had always cared.

Even before you had realized it and fallen so hopelessly in love with him, he had already been there—watching, noticing, keeping little pieces of you tucked away like treasures.

The thought sent a deep warmth through your chest.

When you reentered the bedroom, Joel stirred lightly, his arm stretching across the sheets, blindly reaching for you. His brows furrowed when his hand met nothing but empty space.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you crawled back into bed, pressing against his warmth. A contented hum rumbled deep in his chest as he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, his grip tightening like he wouldn’t let you slip away again.

“Where’d you go?” His voice was thick with sleep, low and gravelly, the sound curling in your stomach.

You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead softly. “Just making sure you had coffee.”

A small grunt left him, but you caught how his lips twitched at the corners.

“Mm. You’re too good to me, darlin’.”

Your heart swelled—partly at his words, but mainly at the overwhelming realization that this man had always been yours, even before you knew it.

You curled closer, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple. “I love you so damn much,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath.

Joel’s eyes fluttered open at that, deep brown meeting yours, hazy with sleep but sharp with something knowing. “I love you, too, sweetheart.�� His voice was soft, certain, and unwavering. He studied you momentarily, his thumb stroking absent-minded circles against your hip. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”

You shook your head, tracing his jawline with your fingertip. “I mean it,” you murmured, voice heavier now. “I love you.”

Joel exhaled through his nose, his expression shifting into something impossibly tender. He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before letting his palm rest against your cheek.

“I know you do,” he said softly. “Just like I love you.”

You swallowed against the lump forming in your throat. He looked at you like you had given him something sacred, like you were something sacred.

Joel let out a small huff, shifting so he was propped up on one elbow. “Y’know…” He hesitated for a beat, a little smirk playing at his lips. “Been meanin’ to show you somethin’.”

You arched a brow, curiosity flickering in your chest. “Oh?”

Joel nodded toward the window, rubbing a slow hand down your back. “Out in the backyard. Was waitin’ for ‘em to bloom first, but… guess I could give you an early look.”

Your brows furrowed, but you allowed him to pull you from the bed, watching as he slipped his arms into his flannel before guiding you downstairs and out the back door.

The morning air was crisp, the soft hum of birds filling the quiet as Joel led you across the yard, right to a small patch of freshly turned soil near the fence.

Tulips.

Your breath hitched as you crouched down, fingertips hovering over the delicate petals just beginning to bloom—the same soft pink as the one you wore in your hair that day so many months ago.

You turned back to Joel, your heart lodged somewhere in your throat. He stood there, hands in his pockets, watching you with a quiet anticipation, like he wasn’t sure what you’d say.

“You grew these for me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Joel shifted slightly on his feet, giving a slight nod. “Figured you got enough flowers at the shop,” he muttered. “But, uh… wanted you to have some here too.”

Emotion swelled in your chest so fast it nearly knocked the breath from your lungs.

You surged forward, throwing your arms around him, burying your face against his shoulder. Joel stumbled back a step before his arms wrapped around you, holding you just as tightly.

“Joel,” you choked out.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmured against your hair. “I know.”

And he did.

He had always known.

[jayswhorex]

missing you

kenji sato x fem!reader

warnings: shower sex, multiple positions, angst & smut

you had an irresistible grip on kenji sato. there was something about the way he always came back to you. sure there had been other girls at some point but he always knew you were the best. and not just when it came to sec but also when it came to everything else. nobody knew kenji sato better than you and maybe he was a tiny bit scared of that. yes, he had a hard time committing to you but he knew if he had to settle down, he couldn't imagine it being with anyone else. so when you showed up at his place and needed a place to stay for a couple of months how could he say no to you?

your schedules had always conflicted so when the two of you rarely saw each other it wasn't such a big surprise to kenji. and times you did see each other were awkward, kenji had been tired of putting up a facade & you knew he just needed his private time. even though during those times all he wanted was to talk to you.

but this morning things had been different, you had decided that you'd take a shower much later than planned to avoid kenji. he snuck out last night to do well…you knew what and had yet to come back. you found yourself just standing under the showerhead, letting water spill all over your skin. you were stuck in your head, trying to grasp why out of nowhere you asked to stay here with kenji. yes, he cared for you but you could never believe that there was a chance in hell he loved you.

you were so distracted by your own thoughts that you hadn't even heard kenji walk in, "mind if i join angel?" his hypnotic voice snaps you from your thoughts. you open your mouth to answer but quickly close it. you open it again and answer with a soft, "mhm".

the cold breeze when kenji opens the shower curtain causes you to shudder, wrapping your arms around your body. "relax" he says gently placing his hands on your waist from behind. his touch was soft and warm, a feeling you used to be used to until you had decided to avoid kenji. you were still trying to make sense of why you were doing this. why are you so scared of letting kenji see those other parts of you?

his mouth pampered your neck with kisses from behind, his hands making their way up to your chest. a delicate whimper escaped your lips, causing you to relax into kenji's touch. kenji squeezed your breasts before giving his attention to your nipples that had softened under the water. he groped on tit while he teased the nipple of the other. "

ken…" you managed to call out, feeling his cock twitch against your ass. the pulsating of his veiny cock against your aunt could only make you more aroused than you had been before. he knew what it meant when you called his name like that and he saw no reason to deprive you of what you craved for. his breaths were deep and heavy, almost as if he had been waiting for this moment. waiting to be able to touch you again even if this was the last life. he keenly guided his cock your drenched cunt, craving to fill you up almost like a dog in heat. a string of sloppy curses falls from your mouth as he slipped his cock in with such ease. there was a brief silence that kenji broke with no hesitation for you, "i missed this baby…i missed us"

kenji gently moved his hips, testing the waters. "kenji you don't have to say that-" a hushed groan accidentally left your mouth, your knees nearly buckling. "just to get in my pants" kenji let a chuckle, you could sense a bit of cockiness hidden beneath that little laugh of his. and god you missed it. "sweetheart i don't know if you can tell but we're way past me getting in your pants," he says a bit frustrated because he wasn't joking.

he was serious about missing you, not the sex nor the fling, he just missing you. he missed your little smiles and the way you'd let him talk to you, he missed you. his thrusts were deep yet rough, and you heard the loud splashes of water getting caught between your bodies. "i know ken but…" kenji's hands found their way to your waist once again, bringing your lower half closer to his. with how wet the walls were and how hard ken was pounding you & your lack of focus you could barely get your sentences out. "…i don't want you to say something you don't mean"

"but i do mean it angel" and that's when it hit him, kenji had to show you. he had to make you understand that needed you and he couldn't do this back and forth anymore. he knew now he was sick of it. you whined when you felt his thrusts slowing, he swiftly pulled out of you and turned your body so that you were facing him. "ken-"you were slightly confused but when he picked you up and gently slid himself into you, you got the memo. "just listen angel please" kenji held you bu the thighs while you had your arms wrapped around his neck, a mixture of moans and groans spilling out of your mouth with each thrust kenji gave you.

"i miss you when you've left early for work in the mornings," he said followed by a hollow grunt that threatened to escape his mouth. your insides clenched around him, encouraging him to be a little less gentle with you. kenji nearly slammed you up against the wall, earning some very noisy moans from you while toenails dug into his back. he knew they would definitely affect his performance at his next game but that was very far from his mind. the only thing he was focusing on right now was you because he had so much more to say and he needed you to listen.

"i miss you when you work late"

"i miss you when you can't come to my games"

"i miss being around you baby"

"i fucking miss hearing your voice" kenji was so stuck in his own head, chasing this high with you while also mumbling out how much he missed you, and need you and wanted you. his words had to mean something to you because, in the end, he was the one you came to when you needed a place to stay. though still dazed, kenji finds himself gripped on the flesh of your thigh firmly as he really himself inside of you. your legs wrapped around his lower waist bringing his body even closer to yours. his grip on your thighs loosened a bit and he leaned his forehead against yours, trying to calm himself down. he feared the silence that had fallen between the two of you but at least he had told you how he was feeling even if that meant nothing to you.

but you could only smile at him and say, "i missed you too ken"

[prythianpages]

Kiss It, Kiss It Better | Azriel x Reader

Azriel x Reader | Even the strongest need a little extra loving sometimes.

warnings: kissing, slight angst in the beginning, reader showering Az with love bc our shadow daddy needs it

a/n: I keep getting distracted from the angst I'm supposed to be writing. But here's a cute little fluffy Az drabble (724 words) inspired by this kissing scene. I've never seen the movie, just saw this clip on twitter lol.

Azriel had a bad day. 

You could tell the moment you heard his footsteps, heavy and hesitant. They reached you before his shadows did, which was rare. Usually, they were the first to greet you, brushing against your skin affectionately. 

But today, they stayed with him, swirling around him in a frantic manner.

His wings were tucked in tight and there was a blankness in his eyes that made your heart ache. Still, even through the storm cloud he carried with him, he paused to place a small kiss to your cheek in greeting before disappearing into the bathroom without a word.

Maybe the mission hadn’t gone as planned. Maybe Rhysand had delivered news that didn’t settle well with him. Or maybe… he was just tired and feeling down. You didn’t ask. You’d learned not to. Azriel always talks when he’s ready.

So, you gave him some time alone.

While he bathed, you decided to prepare his favorite snacks, not caring if it spoiled dinner. You retrieved a bottle of wine from the back of the cabinet, the one you’d both snuck from Rhysand’s private collection during one of your drunken nights together. Azriel blamed it on Cassian and you didn’t know what was funnier–the fact that Rhysand believed it or that Cassian did too (having been guilty of stealing Rhysand’s wine one too many times to question it himself.)

You were pouring the wine when you heard the bathroom door creak open. His hair was still wet, damp curls clinging to the nape of his neck as he walked back into the kitchen. He wore only a pair of loose grey sweatpants, his chest bare and those muscles of his on full display, droplets of water making the black ink on his skin glisten. You nearly overfilled the glass in your hand.

He slumped into the chair beside where you stood, his shadows slinking around the floor like tired cats. Calmer now, though not entirely at peace.

Your lips curved into a small frown. “Rough day?” you asked softly, though it wasn’t really a question. Not when you already knew the answer.

Azriel didn’t reply at first. He just looked up at you, his hazel eyes warm and weary. His features softened slightly. You felt the bond between you pulse with a soft pull and you moved to him instinctively. He welcomed you with open arms, easing you onto his lap, resting his hands loosely around your waist.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low, his thumb tracing absentminded circles on your waist. “But it’s a little better now.”

Your smiled as you leaned in and whispered, “I can make it even better.”

He let out an exhale, a mix of a sigh and chuckle that puffed against your cheek. You cupped his face, thumbs brushing across his cheekbones and began to kiss him. A kiss to his jaw. One to his cheek. The corner of his mouth. His temple. 

You kissed every inch of his face and slowly, he began to melt under your touch.

His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His eyes fluttered shut as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, breathing you in.

You felt his smile through the bond. It was like a tiny spark of warmth, like sunshine breaking through storm clouds. His shadows had risen from the floor, twirling lazily around you both.

You brushed your fingers through his hair, curling a damp lock around your finger. “All good now?”

Azriel tilted his head back. His cheeks were a little pink, the kind of flush he only ever got around you. Contentment and want reflected back at you as his eyes met yours.

“I think," he began, his voice just a touch breathless as his gaze dropped to your lips and then back to your eyes. “You missed a very important spot...want me to show you where?"

You laughed and he laughed with you. Then, he placed a hand at the nape of your neck, guiding you down as he closed the last bit of distance. His lips met yours—the one place you hadn’t kissed in the trail of sunshine you'd pressed across his skin.

The storm that had followed Azriel home had lifted. He’d tell you about it later. For now, he just needed you and the soothing warmth of your body against his.

a/n: It's 2am where I live but I just had to finish this.

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith, @xadenswhore, @kodafics

[moonvis]

IDIOTS IN LOVE

Steve Rogers x F! Reader

incl. Natasha, Wanda, Bucky and Tony

Summary: Being in love with Steve Rogers isn’t easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day you’ve had enough and ask her to set you up, something you’ve never let her before – and a certain blonde isn’t too pleased.

Warnings: Angst to fluff! Jealous! Steve and Jealous! Reader. Misunderstandings. Two blind idiots in love with each other. 4.3k words.

“Okay, I’m off to bed,” You said through a yawn and got up from the chair you’d been sitting in for the past hours, drinking and chatting with Natasha and Wanda.

Natasha took a sip from her glass, before asking, “See you in the morning for our run?”

“Count me in,” You nodded and walked towards the exit, your head facing Natasha, “Goodnight ladies.” The second you faced away, something tall crashed into you, making you trip on your own feet.

“Woah careful, doll!” A familiar voice said, as a hand grabbed you by your waist to steady you, “Are you okay, angel?”

“Steve! Oh- Thanks!” You felt a bit embarrassed as he was still holding onto you, his blue eyes looking down at you with what seemed like concern. His face was close, so very close, and his lips-

“Steve you’re back!” Natasha cheered from behind you, interrupting the moment, “How was your date?”

You immediately felt your heart drop at her question. Steve had been on a date. Again. You took a step away from the super soldier, looking down as he shifted his attention to Natasha, “It was good.”

You snuck out of the room in the blink of an eye, not wanting to hear about yet another one of Steves ‘good’ dates that never lead to a second one. Couldn’t he just choose one of the girls and make it official? That way you had no reason to hold onto the hope that he just might, someday, reciprocate your feelings.

You didn’t see the disappointment in Steve’s face when you suddenly disappeared out of sight.

You woke up in the morning with a burning headache. Partly because of the wine last night, but mostly because of Steve keeping you awake for hours. You always stayed to hear how his dates went, but it was always the same: “It was good, but there won’t be a second one, I’m afraid. Better luck next time Nat.”

Though what if it was different this time? What if he finally found the one? Your thoughts and feeling of regret were interrupted by a harsh knocking on your bedroom door.You knew it was Natasha and got out of bed. The floor felt extra cold this morning.

“I’ll be down in five!” You yelled trough the door and went to get dressed for your run. After swallowing some painkillers for your headache, you left your room to meet the redhead, desperately in need to get some fresh air.

You and Natasha jogged from the Avengers compound and ended up in the nearest park. As you felt the morning sun warming your skin, you felt a little relief lift off your shoulders. You needed this.

The two of you sat down at a bench, kind of like creeps, observing the civilians enjoying their own morning.

A dolled-up lady was walking her dog, or more like, the dog was walking her. You shared a laugh with Natasha at the sight. Your eyes followed her movements, watching as she passed a little girl blowing soap-bubbles. The little one let her tongue out to taste the bubbles, only for her nose to scrunch up in disgust.

“Cute.” Natasha commented from beside you. You smiled and let your eyes wander along with the bubbles flying away, which popped right next to an older couple holding hands. “Aww, look at them!” You commented.

The husband of the old couple, smacked his lady’s butt, growing a mischievous grin on his face. “Now, that’s cute.” Natasha commented this time.

“I know! Old people are the cutest.”

“I can only partly agree with you there. Buck and Steve are quite the old men,” Natasha laughed, “Wouldn’t call them cute.”

You chuckled lightly as your eyes left the old couple. To you, Steve was so much more than cute. He was the kindest, most caring man you’d ever met. He always listened to your small and bigger problems. He was always willing to drop everything to help you out. He was always by your side whenever you got hurt on a mission. You had no doubt he cared for you, and yet… he still went on all those dates like you weren’t even an option. He made you feel so special and loved, and you weren’t even each other’s. Oh, how lucky the one who wins his heart would be.

“Y/N? Earth to--”

“Oh, sorry!” You snapped out of your thoughts at Natasha trying to get your attention.

She gave you a concerned look as she spoke, “Are you okay? You seem down.”

“It’s just my head, it really hurts.” You excused, wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed before.

“I’m sorry. Should we walk back? We can take it slow.” Natasha asked and got up from the bench, lending you a hand.

You accepted her hand and cracked a small smile, “Thank you kind lady.”

Once you started walking back towards the compound, a familiar figure caught your eye. Steve, with a girl beside him, was walking in your direction.

“Would you look at that! Steve’s on a second date,” Natasha cheered at the sight of Steve and Sharon Carter coming closer, “He said yesterday they wouldn’t go on a date again.”

Natasha was clearly trying to share her excitement with you, but all you felt was a knot tightening in your stomach. You liked Sharon, you really did, but of course she, a Carter,  would be the one to finally win Steve’s heart.

Natasha was waving at the pair, just to make sure they saw the two of you. The jealousy in your body didn’t help much with the headache, making you feel sick, “Nat, I’m just gonna go, okay?”

You weren’t in the mood to stand around and wait for Steve to arrive with his new love interest, you didn’t even bother to give Natasha a smile, “You can wait for them if you want. I’d like to have some alone time anyways.”

Natasha wasn’t sure how to react, starting to feel like it wasn’t just a headache bothering you, “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” You left without taking another look back, leaving Natasha to start worry about you.

You didn’t see Steve’s expression go from excitement to concern as he watched you leave Natasha behind.

Back at the compound, you fall down onto your bed, soft sobs rocking your body. You’re tired of loving a man you’ll never have. You have his friendship, but your heart is still not satisfied. Now that Steve has found a beautiful woman like Sharon, maybe you can finally try to move on.

You roll onto your back, looking at the ceiling as your tears dry out. What are you going to do?

Then, it hits you. Natasha.

Just a soft knock on the door and a hug later, the redhead asks what she can do to make you feel better. You let out a sigh and ask away, “Could you help me, maybe… find a date?”

Natasha wasn’t sure she heard you correctly, but when you nodded, her face lit up in excitement, “Of course! It would be my absolute pleasure!” She didn’t even ask why you wanted a date all of a sudden, she was just happy you’d finally give her matchmaking a chance.  

“Oh my god! I have so many guys in mind. They would all be so lucky to have you Y/N. I have to pick one worth your time though!”

You chuckled as you listened to Natasha ramble on about who to pick for you, a feeling of excitement growing in your stomach. You were finally ready to give someone new a chance.

As the moon shone through your window, you thought about what tomorrow would bring. Natasha had already picked out a date whom you’d meet tomorrow night.

Busy in thought, you suddenly felt your stomach growl. Slipping out of bed, you put on a pair of slippers and wandered out your door towards the kitchen. Truth be told, you had been avoiding going around the compound in fear of meeting Steve, which also meant skipping dinner.

You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal and let your thoughts wander back to your upcoming date. What dress would you wear? Maybe the blue one? No. What about the white, the one you knew Steve loved so much?

“Hey.”

The sudden sound of a voice made you jump in your seat. As you choked on your cereal, you felt a hand patting your back.

“I’m sorry for scaring you. Are you okay, angel?”

You looked up to find Steve looking down at you. Damnit. You managed to embarrass  yourself in front of him again.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Your voice sounded hesitant, your eyes going back to your cereal. You listened as Steve made himself a cup of tea behind you, not a single word shared. You felt awkward.

You hoped he would just make his damn tea and leave - but of course not. The man sat down, right beside you, half facing you as he took a sip.

“So…” Steve began, and you felt yourself wanting to disappear. You were in the mindset of moving on a few minutes ago, but here he sat, the man you were so in love with, alone, giving you all of his attention. “How’re you doing? We haven’t talked much since, well, yesterday.”

Steve’s voice sounded hesitant, and you knew, that he knew, that something was up. The two of you hung out every single day, so not talking for 24 hours was unusual.

“I, uh… I’m okay. I’ve been a bit tired lately, that’s all.” You lied, and you didn’t sound very convincing either.

“Nat told me about your headache earlier today, at the park-”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You interrupted him, a hint of annoyance in your voice. You really didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not think about the sight of Steve walking alongside his new girl.

You hear Steve let out a sigh at your answer. You were hoping he’d let it go, though you knew Steve too well. The blonde put down his cup and turned his body fully towards you this time, “Y/N,” His voice sounded serious, “I know something’s up, more than just a headache, and it worries me. So, please, what is going on? Did I do something?”

You didn’t know you had it in you to be angry with Steve Rogers, but when you felt your blood boil, there was no going back. You jumped out of your chair and looked at him with rage in your eyes, “Why do you care, huh?”

You saw the immediate hurt in Steve’s eyes, his expression shocked at your sudden outburst. You didn’t care though, “It’s been a fucking day, and you’re worried about me because I haven’t talked to you yet? You haven’t even been home! The last time I saw you, quoting Natasha, you were on a second date with Sharon! Shouldn’t you be with her now anyways?”

“Y/N-”  

“No! Why the fuck do you sit here and talk to me like I’m the only thing you care about, like it matters how I’m doing? It doesn’t make any sense! You’ve always been like this, yet I’m just a friend sitting around while you go out and fuck all the girls Natasha find for you!” Your breath is heavy, tears threaten to spill from your eyes,

Steve was reaching out a hand to you but retracted it as tears streamed down your cheeks. You pointed a finger at the man, your teeth gritted together as you spoke, “And lastly, I am under no obligation to tell you anything about my feelings! So please, stop treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!”

Without taking another look at him, you spun around and left the room. As you disappeared out of sight, you ran down the hallway to escape into your room, not wanting Steve to follow. It was when you shut your bedroom door, you realised what you just did.

You yelled at Steve, for the first time ever. Worst of all, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. That night, never ending sobs were rocking you to sleep.

As you stormed out of the kitchen, you didn’t see the look of heartbreak in Steve’s eyes. They carried more worry than before, confusion and a load of regret as he started to catch on to what was going on with you. It was all a misunderstanding, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

Getting ready for your date was supposed to be fun and exciting, but after you yelled at Steve last night, nothing seemed to cheer you up.

You regretted every single word you yelled at him. He came to check up on you, but all he got in return was your anger. Though maybe it was for the best, now he had no reason to care about you anymore. You were an asshole. The thought hurt like hell, but you chose to use it as an excuse to ease your feelings.

You dressed up in a white beautiful dress, paired with a pair of white heels. It was Steve’s favourite outfit of yours – he had told you so with words, but his eyes when he looked you, oh, they said so much more. That's were you got the nickname angel from.

It was time to give the outfit a new association, perhaps, the first outfit you wore out with your new potential love interest?

As you walked down the compound hallway to leave, familiar voices came from the kitchen. You knew snooping was wrong, but you couldn’t help listening as it was Steve talking.  

“I’ve been a fool Buck,” Steve sighed, “What am I gonna do?”

“It’s all a big misunderstanding, right? Just tell her everything and I’m sure she’ll understand. Y/N always understands.”

“Yeah, tell her I’ve been going on a new date every week for the past year so that I can forget about her?” Steve groaned, “It sounds awful.”

It did sound awful. He really wanted to get rid of you huh? You didn’t understand why but his words hurt. “-so that I can forget about her.”

You sniffled and was ready to sneak past them, not wanting to hear anymore, but of course, both men noticed your presence. Stupid super hearing.

“Y/N?” Steve asked and walked a little closer to where you were standing, “Wow, angel, you look-” Steve gave you the same look as he always did when you dressed up. He looked at you in awe, which you usually loved, but now, you hated it.

“Princess, you look beautiful!” Bucky commented and walked over to kiss the top of your head, “Where are you headed off to?”

“Oh, I-” You looked at Steve, then shifted your attention back to Bucky, giving him a shy smile, “I’m going on a date.”

The words felt relieving to get out in front of Steve. Now he would know not to treat you like a girlfriend, since you were trying to see someone else, right?

“Oh, really?” Bucky sounded surprised, but you ignored it, “Have uh-” You noticed as Bucky gave a quick look at Steve, before plastering on a big smile, “Have a nice one then! Can’t wait to hear about it!”

“Thanks Buck,” You smiled, “I gotta go.”  

As you rushed out of the room, you didn’t see Steve clenching his jaw and fists. He was irritated at himself for letting it come to this. The feeling of jealusy made him feel sick.

It was an hour into the date, and you were actually enjoying your time. The guy Natasha had set you up with was an agent you had met before during some mission, Christopher. He was cute and had such golden retriever energy - he made you genuinely smile for the first time that day. Apparently he had been smitten with you for a while now, and to no surprise, Natasha knew.

As time passed by, it was time to head home. Both of you had work in the morning anyways. Cristopher followed you all the way back to the Avengers Compound, giving you a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for giving me a chance Y/N. I had a really wonderful time. Will I see you again?”

Busy with your date, you didn’t see Steve standing nearby, observing the whole thing. He was tense, saddened and growing more and more jealous as he watched you laugh with the other guy.

Steve had come out to get some fresh air, to clear his head, but was interrupted by your arrival. You looked so beautiful, and the sound of your sweet laughter made his knees weak. Oh, how he wished he was the one who caused it.

The morning after your date with Cristopher, you felt the best you had in the last few days. You hummed as you entered the kitchen, the smell of something delicious hitting your nose, “Oh, what’s that smell? It’s amazing.”

“’I made pancakes, so I hope you’re hungry!” Bucky cheered and handed you a plate. You accepted it gladly and sat down at the table next to Natasha and Wanda to your left, and Tony to your right.

“Hey girl, you seem happy. I’m guessing the date was a success?” Natasha asked as she took a bite of her breakfast.

“You finally went on a date with Steve? Rhodes owe me money-” Tony started at the information.

You almost chocked on your first bite of the pancake. Why would he even think that? Didn’t he know Steve was dating Sharon?

“No, Tones, wrong,” Natasha corrected him, “She went with that guy Cristopher. Remember that agent who wouldn’t shut up about her?”

“Oh yeah! The guy who was blabbering about Y/N almost as much as Steve does!”

Steve was blabbering on about you?    

“Anyways, tell us how it went? When’s the next date?” Wanda asked, eager to know.

You chuckled a little nervously, “Well, you see--” You stopped talking as soon as Steve entered the kitchen, shocked to see his fallen shoulders and saddened eyes.

You observed as he grabbed a plate of pankakes, before heading over to the counter to make his morning tea. It was weird not hearing a good morning, or getting greeted with his soft smile. You had no idea what was bothering him, and it killed you inside.

"Y/N? You were saying?" Natasha questioned, as you had left them all hanging.

Your eyes didn't leave Steve's figure, even though he was facing away, "It uh... The date was good."

You watched Steve's whole posture tense as you spoke. Oh, how much you wanted to ask if he was okay. You just didn't feel like you had the right to. The last time you spoke, you were yelling at his face.

"Come on! Give us the details!" Tony pushed.

You shook your head, suddenly not wanting to bother Steve with details of your date. You plasteted on a forced smirk, "You'll have to wait and see if we weet again."

"No come on!"

As Steve was facing away, you couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. You couln't see the absolute heartbreak on his face from the thought of having lost you. He really felt like he had lost the most important person in his life - and you didn't even know he saw you as such.

Over the past few days, you hadn't shared a single word with Steve, and it was starting to drive you crazy. You didn’t even face each other while in the same room - it was a good thing you hadn't shared a mission yet.

All you wanted was for Steve to be happy, and to be his friend again, so with that, you decided it was time to apologize for your behaviour – even if he wouldn’t forgive you for being such an ass, you knew it was the right thing to do.

Your palms felt sweaty, and your mouth all dried out as you stepped outside his room, “Okay… here goes nothing.” You knocked on the door, feeling your heart thump rapidly against your chest.

When he didn’t answer you knocked twice, then again and again. Giving up, you asked Tony’s A.I. for help, “FRIDAY, where’s Steve?”

“In the gym ma’am.”

You let out a sigh, “Is he… okay?”

“From what I can tell, he seems distressed and angry.”

You felt a knot in your stomach. It was 8 pm, and Steve never worked out in the gym that late unless he was upset, “Fuck… Thanks FRIDAY.”

Earlier that day, Steve had been walking past the door to your room at least five times, with the intention to make up. Though the super solider was way too nervous to bother you and chickened out. It was killing him not having your company every day. He missed you. So, with his emotions changing from heartbreak to anger, and the heavy regret from not telling you the truth and let your relationship come to this, he escaped to the gym.

You entered the gym and carefully closed the door behind you. It took you seconds to see Steve by the six destroyed punching bags on the floor, the seventh about to face the same faith.

Steve’s back was tense, and you could see the anger he was feeling in every punch. You felt the knot in your stomach from before tightening, your palms even more sweaty. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to him; it was time to face the music.

Speaking of music, before you knew it your ears were singing a high-pitched tone, your head hurt and your whole back was facing the cold floor beneath you.

“Oh my god!” Steve rushed to your side, worry in his voice, “Are you okay? I’m so sorry Angel!”

You blinked a few times before looking up at the concerned man above you. Putting a hand to your head, you groaned out due to the pain. Releasing deep breath, you let Steve help you up, “I guess I deserved that.”

You had been so smart to come up behind the Captain and stand in front of the punching bag. Because of Steve’s quick and hard punches, he failed to notice you in time, and punced the bag into you, sending you flying to the floor.

“Seriously, are you okay, doll?”

The concern in Steve’s voice made you forget why you came her in the first place. You only nodded and let him lead you to sit down on a bench. He didn’t let go of your hand as you both sat down.

Steve let out a shaky breath. It was clear it had scared him when he saw you flying in the air, and it was all his fault too. You could see the guilt on his face. He still cared so damn much.

You had enough of Steve feeling so down because of you, he didn’t deserve a second of it, “Steve I’m okay. I’m the idiot for creeping up on you like that… Also, I kinda deserved it after how shitty I’ve been treating you.”

“What are you talking about?” There was confusion in the Captain’s eyes.

“Just… let me talk.” Suddenly you had the courage to just get it out. You took hold of both his hands and looked deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m so sorry Steve. I’ve been an absolute asshole towards you.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as you shook your head, “Let me continue. You’re my best friend and I have so much love for you. You’ve been nothing but good to me, and I was yelling at you for it. Thinking about how good you treat me, your friend, I can only imagine how good you treat Sharon. She’s very lucky and I wish you guys the best.”

Your gaze fell from Steve and down into your lap, “I… I’ve been jealous. With all those dates you’ve been on… Why couldn’t you just pick one the girls and get it over with? I…”

“Cause none of them were you.”

You looked up at him, shock in your eyes, unsure if you heard him correctly. Steve plastered on a small smile, his eyes so soft as he looked into yours, “Y/N, there’s nothing between Sharon and I. The other day, when you saw us at the park, we were walking back from visiting Peggy’s grave. It was only a coincidence we were there at the same time.”

“Oh… but what about your date the day before? You said it was good?” You asked, feeling almost ashamed.

“You left too soon to hear what I told Nat and Wanda. I had a good time, but I wasn’t interested. I’d have way more fun with someone else there with me…” Steve’s voice was low, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, “I can’t hold it back anymore Y/N. I love you; I always have. And those stupid dates?”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks at his confession. Never in a million years would you have thought he loved you back.

Steve chuckled lightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes, “I went on those to get you off my mind. I never belied you could love me back, you’re way too good for me, Angel. Though every damn date I went on, I just couldn’t get you off my mind. Every time they wanted me to come home with them, I only thought; No, I can’t do that to my best girl.”

“Steve…” You felt so stupid for not having confessed your feelings earlier. All this misunderstanding could’ve been avoided, “I love you too. I love you so damn much Stevie.”

Steve breath caught in his throat, not sure he was hearing you clearly, “What?” The word came out weak, like he was scared to wake up from a dream, “What about--”

“Cristopher?” You giggled, “Oh, I had a nice time with him, but you know, he wasn’t you.”

Steve laughed loudly and you joined in. Both of you realised how stupid and blind you had been. You loved each other.

Steve caressed your cheek again, his thumb stroking over your soft skin. The look in his eyes were different than before; you knew it was love. His features, his voice, all soft, “Can I… kiss you?”

You only nodded and let him lead you towards his lips. The kiss was gentle, but a firework erupted inside of you. It made tears fall from your eyes, his too. Pulling away, Steve kissed the top of your head before speaking, “My beautiful, Angel. I can’t believe I finally have you.”

You threw yourself forward and let him wrap his strong arms around you. His embrace felt like home.

It felt so right, and finally, your heart was satisfied.

You didn’t see the tears continue to stream down Steve’s cheeks. You didn’t see the huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He was so damn in love with you, and he already knew that someday, he wanted to call you his wife.  

THE END! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is very much appreciated <3

[humanjarvis]

i learned from you

synopsis: while talking with your colleague, you realize caleb is the closest thing you have to a mother figure. 

pairing: caleb x reader, reader is mc tags: light angst, comfort, fluff, reader had a rough childhood, reader has a period, reader and caleb's relationship is ambiguous but he kisses her head once, reader questions existence, reader is kind of a crybaby, grandma josephine implied to be a bum in this no shade to her word count: 1.3k

a/n: i hope this doesn't read weird #imnotintothat i just keep thinking about how caleb fulfills like 6 different roles in mc's life. he is so gender studies to me

“What do you mean you don’t know how to straighten your hair? Didn’t your mom ever teach you?” Tara asks in genuine confusion. 

With your sandwich halfway to your lips, you freeze. Although you were close with your colleagues, you weren’t all that open about your upbringing, for obvious reasons. Before now, everyone had always accepted your reticence on the topic. They’d never been people to overstep, but you guess there’s a first time for everything. 

“I don't remember much about my parents,” you respond carefully. “My memory from before the Wanderers came is a little blurry, sorry.” 

Tara’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ as her cheeks turn scarlet. “I didn’t mean to—” she starts. “I wasn’t trying to—I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” 

You knew she didn’t know. That was kind of the point. Your whole thing was to move through life ignoring your early childhood, pretending you’d simply spawned into Linkon as a tween. But you couldn’t tell Tara that—she was sweet, it was an honest mistake, and she didn’t need your baggage at noon on a Friday.

Scrambling for something to break the tension, you blurt out, “I think she did teach me how to dry it, though!”

The peace offering is bland—to most people, drying hair is nothing special—but it works. Tara jumps back into the conversation, tactfully choosing to talk about her childhood so you could keep yours locked away in the depths of your mind. Crisis averted, you think. 

Except as the minutes tick by and Tara drones on, you realize the crisis is very much not averted. You’d brought up your “mom” teaching you to dry your hair to save you both from an awkward lunch, but when the lie left your mouth, it wasn’t your mother you were thinking of. It wasn’t Grandma Josephine. It was Caleb. 

Caleb had taught you how to dry your hair. It’d happened when you were twelve; a rowdy classmate had snuck up behind you and pushed you into the pool, leaving your hair a tangled, matted mess. When Caleb had found out your teachers were letting you go home early, he’d skipped his last two classes to be right by your side, running a shower for you while you sulked by the bathroom door. After you’d dried off and changed into the pajamas he’d left on the counter, Caleb came in from the hallway, carrying the same towel he’d used to dry your hair countless times before. Section by section, he’d squeezed the water from your hair, showing you how to without frizzing it up. “Not saying that ‘wet cat’ is a bad look on you, but I get the feeling you don’t want to look like that all the time,” he’d quipped. 

Caleb had been there for you for as long as you could remember, you realize. As you walk back to the Hunters Association, halfheartedly entertaining Tara’s chattering, the memories flood your brain: Caleb teaching you math. Caleb nursing you back to health when you had the flu. Caleb packing your lunchbox, Caleb doing your laundry, Caleb holding you through your first period. For all your firsts, all your milestones, and even the dull moments, he had been there. Your head spins as you stare at your desk, not even remembering sitting down. All your life, has Caleb been your only mother figure? 

You go home lost in thought. 

You stay that way for the whole afternoon, nearly forgetting about the movie night you’d planned for that evening with—you guessed it—Caleb. As you float around your apartment on autopilot, tidying up your living room and throwing on comfier clothes, the doorbell rings. He’s right on time. 

“Hey, pipsqueak,” he greets as you welcome him in. “I hope you’re hungry—I brought your favorite snacks.” 

You thank him with a smile, hoping his observant eyes can’t spot the way it wavers. Just two hours, you think. Two hours and then you’ll be free to question your existence all weekend.

The movie plays as normal. It’s easy to escape the worries on your mind with a fantasy blockbuster stealing your attention. It’s only when Caleb offers to make you a late dinner that the weight of your day falls back down to your shoulders. 

“No, that’s okay. I can just order something after you’re gone,” you refuse shyly. Having returned to your earlier haze of overthinking, you make a mistake. As Caleb moves to ruffle your hair, you flinch, dodging under his hand. The ensuing beats of awkward silence are all it takes for him to register that something is off.  

“...You just pulled away from me. You never do that unless you’re upset. Talk to me, pips—did I do something wrong?” He pauses. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you rush, throwing your hands out in front of you. “No, it’s just…”

When you trail off, he steps closer. “It’s just…what? I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me,” he presses. 

“It’ll sound silly. And weird,” you say quietly, avoiding his gaze. 

“Nothing about you is silly, pipsqueak. Except when you’re actin’ cute for my attention,” he adds, gently poking your nose.  

You reward his efforts to put you at ease with a shaky giggle, finally finding the will to talk. “Earlier, Tara just asked me about my parents—wondering if my mom had ever taught me to do something.” 

Caleb grimaces. 

“And with Gran so busy all the time…and with her…gone…now… I just realized the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother figure is you,” you breathe, your voice breaking at the end of your confession. 

Caleb’s unreadable gaze makes the tears arrive faster. “It’s just…you’re everything to me, Caleb. You’ve been with me through everything,” you sniffle. “Every role in my life you could possibly play, you play it, and I didn't even notice until now. You’ve spent over half your life guiding me through mine, and I just feel so helpless. I don’t even know if I'd be alive without you, and—”

Your tears constrict your throat, forcing you to pause if you want to breathe properly.

Even though he knows now is a bad time to dote on you, given the circumstances, Caleb would rather eat glass than turn a blind eye to your tears. He quickly shushes you, letting you cry into his sweater, and the more you relax in his embrace, the more you hate yourself. You really can’t do anything without him.

Settling you both on the loveseat, Caleb rocks you for a few moments before he begins. “I didn't know you felt that way, but it seems like you didn't either. Look, pipsqueak,” he sighs, tilting your head up to make eye contact. “Don't ever feel bad about how you were brought up. I won’t let you keep stressing yourself out over something that was never in your control.” He pauses, as if weighing the consequences of his next words. “And if it means anything, which I hope it does, I thank the stars every day that the universe was kind enough to let me take care of you. To see you grow,” he murmurs, pressing a long kiss to your temple. “Any way you'll have me in your life, I'll be there. Never feel ashamed for that.” 

With your heart pounding, you peek up at him, hesitant awe on your still-teary face. He meets your gaze with a soft smile, softly stroking your back, and you wonder what heroic deeds you accomplished in your past life to deserve him. “I’m sorry for pulling away from you earlier,” you whisper, nestling your head into his shoulder. 

You don’t know how long you stay there curled beside him, but the moon is high in the sky when he next speaks.

“So…mother figure, huh?” he asks, voice mischievous now that your tears have dried. “Better me than anyone else. You might have liked her more than me—can’t have that.” 

Lifting your head, you swat his chest. “Caleb!” you groan.  

[rafesangelita]

♡ when an unexpected tornado makes landfall, you find yourself taking shelter with none other than rafe cameron himself. the problem? you two can’t leave until help arrives. with half of the town torn to shreds, and hundreds of people either missing, injured, or dead, who knows how long that can take?

warnings: enemies to lovers (barely lol i’m just dramatic), implied age gap, flirty banter, sarcasm, angst, mentions of death, probably inaccurate descriptions of bad weather and tornadoes (i researched the best i could lol), forced proximity, sexual tension, unprotected sex, hair pulling, creampie

a/n: i watched the movie twister (1996) and instantly thought of this pairing. watch this fic’s trailer/moodboard video here !

wc: 2.8k

“yeah.. well i better get going then since you so kindly asked rafe to head on over here.” you rolled your eyes, twirling the ends of your hair as you held the telephone between your cheek and your shoulder. “sweetheart, i just don’t want you to be by yourself when that ugly storm hits, that’s all.” you hummed. as if on cue, a flash of lightning lit up the sky in the distance.

“i have to go, love you. tell auntie i miss her and i hope to tag along with you to see her next time.” you chirped, hanging up once your dad said; “will do. love ‘ya.”

it was raining cats and dogs by the time rafe showed up, his white t-shirt soaked all the way through. “you didn’t have to come, you know.” rafe’s hair was dripping wet, the water droplets running down his skin as he leaned against the doorframe. “yeah, i did. your father trusts me for a reason.” your eyes trailed down the column of his neck, an amused smile playing on his lips when he caught you staring.

“i don’t need you to be here with me.” you crossed your arms, your voice barely above a whisper. “i know that, m’just doing what your old man asked me to do.” rafe noticed you always had to clarify you could do something on your own before letting someone else take over, so he made sure to always acknowledge that fact in order for you to never feel less than. slowly, you moved to the side, allowing rafe to come in.

“would you have sent me back home in the rain like that?” he laughed, locking the door behind him. “i was thinking about it..” you looked back, your skin flushing once you realized how close he was. “don’t you think you should change into a pair of jeans or something? you never know if we’ll have to run outside to the storm cellar.” you looked down at your nightdress, and then back up at rafe who looked like he was fighting off inappropriate thoughts in his head.

“no, i don’t think so. i’m quite comfortable if you couldn’t tell.” you winked at him, laughing to yourself when you heard him curse under his breath. “alright.. well, i guess we could relax until we hear something on the radio.” you settled in your little corner by the window, watching rafe as he changed the radio to the news station. his clothes were still wet, his skin glistening with the moisture.

deciding it would be rude to leave him like that, you snuck upstairs to your father’s room for an old pair of jeans and a flannel. “here.” you held the clothes up to him, “you could dry off in the bathroom.” rafe hesitated for a moment, ultimately deciding to accept your kind gesture. “alright. call me if you hear anything.” his fingers skimmed your own as he took the articles of clothing from you.

“and don’t sit by that window, either!” he shouted down the hall. you waved him off, taking a seat at the kitchen table while you stared outside. the storms during the summertime were extra vicious, the thunder being loud enough to rattle the walls. surprisingly, there hadn’t been any tornadoes yet, but that was something one couldn’t get comfortable with the idea of. the tornado siren system in town is so delayed, you know a twister has already made landfall once it blares.

“just coming in, folks! we’ve received some phone calls reporting hail and get this!— a funnel cloud! start herding your animals indoors if you haven’t already, and stay home, there may or may not be debris flying in your area.”

“rafe, we have a funnel cloud!” you jumped up, turning the volume up on the radio. rafe ran out of the bathroom, his jeans hanging low on his hips. oh. “are the horses in their stalls?” he was shirtless, chest rising and falling as you nodded dismissively. “cows in the barn?” you hummed, tearing your eyes away from his v-line. “go get in the cellar, do you or your father need anything important before a tornado sweeps through here?”

you nodded frantically, catching the keys he tossed your way. “we both have emergency bags in our closets.” you grabbed your throw blanket, wrapping it around yourself before rafe yelled at you to go. slipping on your boots by the back door, you wasted no time, running out to the middle of the field where the cellar was. with the rain coming down so hard, and hail pounding the ground around you, you whimpered when you looked down and saw at least twenty keys on rafe’s key ring.

“what the fuck!” you shouted to yourself, scrambling to find the key that fit. “come, on!” you cried, pulling on the metal handles as hard as you could. rafe came running full speed, a ‘why aren’t you in, yet?!’ falling from his lips. “you give me a shitload of different keys and expect me to try each one?!” you shoved him, moving out of the way so he could open the wooden doors.

you looked down at the bags rafe bought, your heart dropping when you saw the wrong one. “wait— rafe, that’s not the right bag.” you panicked, looking back at the house. “yeah? well you had like three in your closet so i assumed it was the biggest one.” you shook your head, booking it towards the back door as rafe shouted after you. “hey— y/n, get back over here!” he chased you down, grabbing your wrists as you thrashed against him.

“i need that bag, rafe! it has the only thing i have left of my mom.” you cried, still trying to get out of his hold. rafe met your eyes, a knowing look passing over his face. “okay, i’ll grab it but i need you to go back to the cellar and keep trying those keys.” without another word, you nodded, going back and doing as he said. thankfully, the doors opened on the first try. you laughed, your joy short lived when you realized it suddenly stopped raining.

it was no longer windy, the air eerily still before you heard the haunting sound of the tornado siren. “rafe!” you screamed, “it’s here!” you jumped into the cellar, motioning for him to run faster. “move over!” you yelped when he launched himself inside, falling to the cement flooring with a groan. you were quick to close the doors, locking it shut with a heavy duty lock before you rushed over to check on rafe.

“are you okay?” you helped him up, the flannel he once wore now long gone. “yeah, yeah.” he nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. rafe moved your hair out of your face before he checked you for any scrapes or bruises. “are you?” you muttered a ‘yes.’ as you backed away, your fingertips hot against his bare skin. “here. ‘didn’t know which one so i just grabbed all’em.” you sighed in relief, thanking him.

“it’s gonna be really bad, an EF-5.” a shiver went down your back at the revelation. the last EF-5 tornado that tore through your town was the same tornado that took your mother all those years ago. “oh, god..” you whispered to yourself, pacing back and forth as rafe dusted himself off. “don’t worry. we should be just fine in here.” he lit up a nearby lamp, the dim light flickering against the walls.

“are you cold?” he sat you down in the corner, wrapping his arms around you as he eyed the shelter doors. “you don’t have to do that..” you pulled away slightly, making rafe pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “would it really hurt you to accept some help, some comfort? we’re in the middle of a tornado for crying out loud!” you swallowed thickly, both of you jumping at the sound of a loud bang from outside.

the doors rocked against the metal frames, a scream leaving your lips when the doors flew off the hinges. “shit!” rafe shielded you, your eyes screwing shut at the whirlwind of debris falling into the cellar. you unintentionally clung onto him, your nails digging crescents into his flesh. “it’s okay, i got you.. i got you.” he whispered the last part, his voice making goosebumps rise across your skin.

you kept your head buried into his chest until the tornado passed. it wasn’t until it was dead silent that you pulled away from him, your awkward position making your cheeks heat. there you were, straddling his lap with both thighs on either sides of his hips with one of his hands cradling your head, and the other wrapped tightly around your waist. he was still holding onto you despite the storm being over.

“rafe?” you tapped his shoulder, “it’s gone.” you pulled away first, his arms falling to his sides as you gazed up at him. he stared at you for a moment. “right.” he cleared his throat, tapping your thigh as an indication to get up. you looked around, kicking the debris out of the way before gasping at the sight of the blocked cellar entrance. “well that’s great.” rafe walked over to the telephone on the wall, dialing for help.

“hello? uh, no— no injuries, s’just me and another young lady down here at y/l/n’s ranch are trapped here inside the cellar. yes, i’m sure we’re stuck, ‘looks like a tractor tire just wedged itself inside. yes sir i understand, alright thank you.”

“what did they say?” you chewed your lip nervously. rafe scoffed. “we’re not their priority right now. they’ll send someone out here as soon as they can.” he sighed taking a seat on a nearby stool. picking up your bags, you placed them on the wooden table in the corner. “do you by any chance have a shirt in there?” you shook your head, laughing to yourself. “you could do without it.”

rafe smiled, tonguing his cheek as he stood up. “oh, really, you think so?” you felt the heat of his body behind you, the urge to back into him and feel him against you was overwhelmingly strong. “yeah.. it’s not like i don’t see you parading around here shirtless all the time, anyways.” you shrugged, opening the bag with your valued belongings. “so, you do watch me.” you froze, knowing he’s caught you.

“cool it, cowboy.”

checking to see if the folded up photo of your mother was still in its small pocket, you smiled softly as you traced your fingers over her beautiful face. “would you like to see a picture of my mom?” at this, rafe stepped closer, his chin resting in the curve of your neck as you both inspected the image. “she’s beautiful,” he whispered, “you look just like her.” you sniffled, letting rafe run his finger tips up your arm.

“she died from the last EF-5 tornado that hit town. my father had gotten both of us to the cellar but she ran out last minute to get our family photo album..” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “and she just never made it back.” you shuddered. rafe rubbed circles into your skin, his breath tickling the side of your face. “did you find it? the photo album i mean.” you turned around, blinking up at his, very handsome, face.

“yes. it was just right outside the doors.” rafe took the picture out of your hand, placing it back in your bag before stroking your chin with his thumb. “you’re strong, you know that? sometimes a little too strong.” both of you huffed out a laugh. “i know you’re smart, i know you’re ambitious, i know you’re capable..” rafe’s hands rested on your hips, “but can you please just shut your brain off for one second and let me take care of you?”

you gasped when he hoisted you up onto the table, his lips finding yours before you could protest. he was eager, the weight of his body making you melt into his touch. you welcomed him between your thighs, your eyes fluttering shut as he started leaving kisses down your jaw to your chest. surrendering to rafe was so much easier than you liked to admit, his strong calloused hands roaming your body as if you’d disappear into thin air if he left any part of you untouched.

“i’ve wanted you for so long, you have no fuckin’ idea..” he grounded himself against your clothed cunt, his eyes snapping open at the sensation. “just look at you.” he marveled, your nightdress now pooled around your waist. “you’re so beautiful.” you kept your eyes on him as he backed away slightly, his fingertips hooking inside the waistband of your panties. “i don’t want to wait.” you were breathless when he ripped off the flimsy material.

“i’ll never make you wait.” he spread your thighs, his cock jumping at the sight of your pretty pussy. “holy.” he sucked in a breath, eyes darkening. “don’t stare at me like that!” you laughed, your cheeks flushing at his expression. you couldn’t help but attempt to shut your legs, suddenly feeling exposed as rafe’s jaw clenched. “don’t get shy on me, now.” he teased, running a thumb between your folds.

you bit your lip, eyebrows knitting together as he took himself out of his jeans. “feel what you do to me?” rafe grabbed your hand, wrapping it around his length. he was big. huge even. “please,” you whimpered, “i need you inside me.” embarrassingly enough, rafe felt like he could cum from those words alone. “i thought you’d never ask.” he winked, hovering above you as he tapped your swollen clit with the head of his cock.

jumping at his ministrations, both of you moaned as he entered you slowly, his mouth hanging open as he watched you greedily take him all the way to the base. “oh, my fuck—” rafe’s head fell on your shoulder, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. you had never felt this full before, the intimacy of having rafe’s body on yours, his fingers running through your hair as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear was enough to make your head spin.

with your hand finding the nape of his neck, you cried out when he grazed that soft spot inside of you. “shit— i’m sorry, did i hurt you baby?” you shook your head, using your other hand to cup one side of his face. “no— mhm fuck!” you clenched around him, “feels so good.” rafe groaned, pulling you into another kiss. “you’re taking me so well..” he pulled up your nightdress, exposing your tits before taking a bud into his mouth.

“rafe!” you mewled, the sensation unfamiliar but so, so good. “wearing this short little thing.. you wanted me to do this to you, huh?” he smacked your clit, making a squeal leave your lips. “yes!” tears were pricking at your eyes, the pleasure so intense and heavy in your tummy you couldn’t do anything else but make pathetic noises as he took you for all that you had. nothing could possibly get better than this.. or so you thought.

bringing his hand down to your soaked cunt, your eyes widened as he started rubbing hard circles on your clit, your thighs shaking at the penetration. “oh, god!” your back arched off of the table, and into his chest, his skin warm and clammy against yours. rafe grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you up for you to watch the way he slammed into you. he was glistening with your slick, the wet squelch of your pussy echoing in the small space.

“rafe?” you looked up at him, both of you locking eyes. “cum inside me please.” rafe’s hips immediately stuttered, your orgasm washing over you as he cursed through gritted teeth. “those are dangerous words, darlin’.” he pulled you against his him as you shook and trembled in his arms, rafe’s seed spilling into you. a single tear drop fell down your cheek, the side of his face pressed against his skin.

“you’re perfect.” he kissed the crown of your head, both of you watching as he slowly pulled out. “fuck, i’ll never get tired of this.” he pulled up his jeans, getting a change of clothes for you out of your bag. “who said we’re doing this again?” you arched a brow. rafe gave you a look, both of you smiling at each other. “here. i don’t want anyone else seeing you in this nightdress.” you quickly changed into the jeans and oversized t-shirt he gave you.

“i hope help comes soon.. i just want to see if our house is still standing.” rafe hugged you, sitting you down near the table. “our house?” he loved the way that sounded. “yeah.”

[melodyofyou]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ i look to you to see the truth

nat scatorccio x fem reader

↣ some headcanons about antler queen!nat in a relationship cus she's going through soso much this season i can't help but want to comfort her :(

*+:｡.｡ warnings / season three spoilers, slight travis diss sorry, angst

𝄞 fade into you - mazzy star

+ asking you for reassurance after a meeting, knowing you'll always tell her the truth because she trusts your words and choices over her own.

+ nat wanting you to keep the relationship a secret, worried about how the girls would react. she doesn't want anyone turning against you or treating you differently because you're with their queen.

+ noticing nat staring at you while you do your chores. you make sure to look back and study her expression just in case she needs you for something.

+ sneaking into her hut late at night when you can't sleep, quietly laying down beside her (she doesn't fall asleep until she feels you holding her).

+ nat sneaking into your hut while you and everyone else are busy doing their chores, feeling the most comfortable in a place that reminds her of you.

+ defending her when the girls gang up on her, always re-stating that she's trying her best as antler queen and shutting down any negative conversations about her if you hear them.

+ she loves forehead kisses. she never directly told you she loves them, but every time you kiss her forehead she can't help but smile at you.

+ noticing travis giving you the occasional weird look, wondering if he knows something. you shrug it off, knowing nat wouldn't want you worrying about it.

+ you rarely saw nat cry but after she became the antler queen, it became more frequent. she'd come to your hut with tears in her eyes, sitting down beside you as she rests her head on your shoulder. the only noise you'd hear was a quiet sniffle or a gentle sob.

+ the first time you kissed, you were lying beside her after you snuck into her hut, this time facing her. you studied nat's face, wondering what she was thinking. you felt her breath on your face, watching her eyes close as you slowly leaned in. you hesitated until you felt her lips press a little harder against yours, a gentle hand finding its way to your waist.

+ on the days where you had little to no chores, you would both sneak away and walk around the woods for a little while. getting even a slight bit of privacy was rare but you cherished it nonetheless.

+ never outwardly saying 'i love you' to one another, preferring to show each other through little things like linking pinkies, giving her berries you find when scavenging, holding her during the night, listening to her ramble about how much she hates being the antler queen.

+ any time nat is upset you distract her by talking about all the things you could do once you get rescued, easing her mind almost immediately.

+ being the only one, other than nat, who knew where coach ben was. she trusted you enough to tell you the truth and you swore to take it to the grave.

+ often times the other girls will notice you sharing clothes with nat. they don't think much of it because, after all, everyone shares a few items of clothing anyway.

+ letting her draw little patterns on your hands with her fingers, knowing it soothes her after a particularly hard day.

+ loves slow, gentle kisses, especially the ones where you're both smiling against eachothers lips. it reminds her how truly loved she is by you.

[zae-heeyyy]

Aegis

Summary: You defend your daughter from Micah. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 1,810 Tags: fluff, family, girl dad Arthur, angst, high honor Arthur Warnings: Violence, mistreatment of a child

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an: This was an anon request. I was weary about this one because I'm not a mom, nor do I spend a lot of time around toddlers, but omg exploring girl dad Arthur was so fun! Shout out to @emerald-ranch for helping me with a horse fact for this one! Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

Aegis: as in protection, means or method of defending

A pair of hazel eyes cut through the dark, shining like twin stars burning holes in the blanket of night. Those usually bright supernovas seemed dull now, washed out by the weight of the world. Your daughter's tiny form scooted in impossibly closer, and you bundled her up, swaddling her like she was still the wiggling newborn you'd held in your arms three years ago.

"Bea," you sighed, trying your best to shield her from the beast that was your frustration. Exhaustion had settled in your bones hours ago, pressing your patience paper thin. Sleep called out to you from the void, and you wanted so badly to answer, but your daughter reeled you back every time.

"I want Daddy," she whined, clutching the fabric of your shift in her little fists. 

You missed him too; she had no idea. In a time that seemed like forever ago, you and Arthur laid in this same cot, your fingers tangled in his shirt in the way your daughter's were in yours now. Motherhood terrified you, and after telling Arthur you were pregnant, you cried all through the night. Raising a child was daunting enough, but doing it with an outlaw in a gang seemed like a nightmare turned reality. 

Solid arms held you together in body and mind. He was your rock even though he was going through his own quiet panic. Arthur knew the harsh realities of parenthood all too well. Still, he knew the brightness, blooms, and blossoms it could bring, and he let himself want it more than anything. Making good on his second chance at having a family, he married you right away and devoted all of himself to you and the baby.

That warm summer night after your screams and her cries had died down, he bowed his head over her, staring without a word. First, one salty tear fell from his face and onto the blanket you'd knitted for her, then another, and another. You tried to offer him the dignity of silence, but your tears burst out with a sob. It was only then that he spoke, snapping out of his baby-induced trance, his eyes wide with concern.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong at all."

And his baby loved him oh so much, the very definition of a daddy's girl. He was the one who protected her from spiders and wasps, the one who made her giggle til her face turned red, the one who'd lift her up on his shoulders and run amok through camp, and the one who snuck her candy when she thought you weren't looking. He was her Polaris, and little did she know, she was his entire universe. Leaving both of you at camp, even if only for a few hours, chipped away at a piece of his soul every time. In the present, you combed your fingers through her light-colored hair and kissed her on the head twice–one from you and one from Daddy, as you always told her.

"I know. He'll be here when we wake up, honeybee."  

And the tent fell silent, but your daughter twisted and shivered, unsettled by passing footsteps.

"Momma…" Her words came out smaller than her. "M'scared."

You wanted to tell her there was nothing to be afraid of, but you couldn't lie to her–not when there was a price on her father's head, not after Blackwater, and not after Colter. In yet another attempt to calm her, you whispered soft shhs. But then she spoke once more, a single word–a name, and your breath caught in your throat.

"Micah."

You sat up with the quickness of a startled doe, sweeping your eyes over your daughter. Tears stained her rosy cheeks, but she was otherwise unharmed.

"What about Micah?" The question came out more urgent than you'd intended, and she hid herself in your bosom. You hoped she didn't hear your heart pounding wildly against your rib cage. 

"Don't want him to come here."

"Why'd he do that?"

She only shook her head. You peeled her away from you, wiping her tears away with the pads of your thumbs before cupping her face in your hands. Your voice was loving but firm–a quiet, motherly demand.

"Bea. Talk." 

She vocalized as best as she could: "He's scary and mean."

And then, after a long pause, her small hand came to rest over yours on her cheek.

"He touched my face."

A curtain of red-hot wrath veiled your vision, and it took everything in you to hide it from the baby in your arms. No matter how big she got, she would always be that pink, wrinkly baby in the knitted blanket. You put on a stellar performance, eyes twinkling, your smile adding light to the darkness that'd settled over you. You reassured her that Daddy and Uncle Dutch would take care of that, that she had a whole family looking out for her, and that she was safe. 

In one last attempt to get her to settle, you laid back down, closed your own eyes, and began a slow hum of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." In the middle of the second run-through, she'd gone limp, finally.  You tried to follow suit, but your thoughts were louder than ever. 

Arthur'll be back soon.

Let the men dish it out. 

Get some sleep, get some sleep, get some sleep.

But your legs swung over the cot, and you left your eaglet behind in the nest as you soared into camp, sharp eyes scanning for your prey–a rattlesnake masquerading as a man. The drunk bastard saw you coming, flashing his fangs in a smug display of mockery. He didn't expect the beer bottle he'd been nursing to explode across his head, the glass shattering like a storm of meteors crashing down to earth. The impact sent him sprawling to the ground, and you were on top of him in an instant in the only way you'd ever be–out for blood. A blackhole temporarily swallowed both of you as you slammed your forehead into his with all the force of two colliding planets. 

The shockwave drowned out everything around you–so much so that you didn't hear someone shout for Arthur and didn't notice your husband had returned just before you left the tent. Micah fought back hard, trying in his intoxicated stupor to twist free, but you had him good, your nails like talons breaking skin and cutting off his air supply.

An owl-like screech tore through your lungs as two strong hands yanked you away. Your husband's eyes locked onto yours, grounding you, clearing the haze of fury. Time seemed to slow as you saw yourself reflected in concerned chrysocolla-colored eyes.

"Hey now, hey, easy…"

Just when he thought he'd calmed his distressed mare, the snake hissed in the grass.

"Get control of your whore, Morgan!"

"Arthur," you caught his attention, him looking from Micah back to you, "Beatrice." 

At hearing his daughter's name, Arthur bared his teeth and dug his nails into his palm. Without thinking, he shoved you aside, and you knew if you let him get to Micah, all hell would break loose. Roles reversed, you grabbed at his sleeve with both hands, pushing your weight into your heels to keep him in place. Micah started a mocking chortle. 

"That seed of yours." He tried once again to rise up on his feet, "Ain't much hope for her. She'll let fellas buy her for a penny just like her momma."

His taunting stung enough for you to temporarily lose hold of Arthur, and he took his chance, sending the metal tip of his boot flying into Micah's chin. The devil incarnate spit out blood and chipped bone and let out a hoarse, guttural bellow of pain, but he didn't try to stand anymore. 

"Lucky she got to you first." Arthur spat, "I ain't stopping her next time."

Your husband stomped off with his arm around your waist, back to your lion's den where your cub was still sleeping soundly. Collapsing onto the cot, you dug your palms into your eyes, trying to ease the pressure of a building headache. Lantern light came into your field of vision as Arthur's calloused fingers pried your hands away. 

"That was stupid," he whispered, aware of Beatrice still sleeping. One hand clutched your chin, and the other moved your hair out of your face to get a good look at you, "I woulda' handled it."

The cold sting of a wet cloth against your bruises made you wince. 

"I know. Couldn't help myself."  

Arthur didn't say anything else and finished cleaning you up in silence. Though the presence of your family back together brought you a semblance of peace, you twisted the gold band around your finger, lost in hellish thoughts. You and Arthur made promises to each other and to your little girl, and you'd make good on them, no matter the cost.

"I'll kill him next time."

Arthur had stripped down to his union suit and nodded at you as he took his hat off and set it beside the photo of your daughter's namesake.

"I know."

Then, his face lit up. He stopped your fidgeting by taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. Deep down, he knew you had it in you, but something about his wife, the sweetest thing he'd ever met, nearly ripping a man's head off his shoulders with her bare hands, struck a cord of pride within him. 

"Though I don't think anybody in their right mind would tempt you after seein' that."

And you felt embarrassed of your wild display of maternal ferocity. But Arthur, in all his tenderness and love for you, made all your doubt vanish.

"That's my girl," he whispered, holding his hands out.

You let him hoist you up into his warm embrace. The steady rise and fall of his chest and rhythmic heartbeat could've lulled you to sleep right then and there. This closeness had become a delicacy since parenthood, and you savored every bite. Arthur sighed contently as he breathed in the scene before him. Though you were buried in his chest, you knew he was looking over at his sleeping baby girl while he was hugging you.

"Maybe one day she can spend the night with Abigail and Jack, and we can have some husband and wife time." 

You hummed in agreement, tempted to let your limbs fall weak in his arms. The sounds of rustling blankets woke you right back up.

"Daddy?" 

Arthur didn't let you go. Instead, he squeezed you harder, a silent thank you for the life you'd birthed, the life you'd given him. He guided you back to the cot beside your daughter, tucking both of you in and pressing a soft kiss to your foreheads.

"Hey, sweetheart. I'm here," were the last words you heard before soaring serenely off the cliff of consciousness.