#and I gotta make sure it's timed right too

[tsuutarr]

Demon Delinquents x Human! Reader

Here's my gift for @ozzgin (who organized the secret santa event, tysm)!!

Content is about 1K words about you and your new delinquent demon besties <3

You, a human, somehow ended up in a school filled with demons. Though, you’re surprised to see that everything is rather… normal? Despite your peers and teachers sporting horns and other demon-like features, your demon school really seems like every other school.

You’re introduced to your classmates who politely clap, before you’re ushered to your new seat. All normal stuff, really, except that you’re seated at the very back in between what looks to be two delinquent demons. And, just your luck, you seem to have caught their eye. They could probably drill a hole through your skull with how much they’re looking at you.

So it’s really no surprise when you’re called out to the back of the school when class is over. You’re trembling as the demons loom over you, sharp teeth glinting underneath the sun.

“You’re gonna be our hench human,” the demon with red skin cackles, smile wide. You’re pretty sure he could bite your head off.

“And you’re gonna like it,” the demon with yellow skin adds, his frown showing off all his sharp teeth.

You’re too scared to say anything, but they take your silence as agreement.

“Good!” the red demon guffaws, pointing to himself. “Name’s Rex.” He points to the yellow demon beside him. “This guy’s Lem.”

Lem juts his chin out at you. “‘Sup?”

You’re really not sure how to react, making the three of you just stare at each other.

Finally, Rex raises an eyebrow. “Yer name?”

“Oh,” you say, blinking, before stuttering out your name. Rex and Lem look pleased.

“A’ight, great.” Slinging an arm over your shoulder, Rex begins to maneuver you as he begins walking, Lem following behind closely. “First order of business…”

You’re going to die. You’re convinced of it. Why else would they be dragging you with them?!

Surprisingly, however, you find yourself in the cafeteria. Somehow, you expected demons to be more rowdy, but everyone seems to be minding their own business. Even Rex and Lem are standing in line, waiting for their turn despite being delinquents.

You’re not left too much time to ponder, however, since it’s soon your turn to order. You’re certain they’re going to make you buy their lunch, but they… don’t? They pay for their own food, before dragging you away again until you’re on the rooftop.

“Here,” Rex says, tossing you a sandwich. “A good hench human’s gotta be strong.”

“And ya only get strong by eatin’,” Lem adds, shoving a whole melon bun in his mouth.

You blink, sandwich in your hand, as Rex and Lem dig into their lunches.

Rex looks to you, before swallowing down his food. “What? Ya not hungry? Or d’you not like sandwiches?”

“Uh, no, just…” you purse your lips. “I guess I didn’t expect you to buy me lunch?”

“Tsk, tsk,” Rex says, wiping some mustard off of his bottom lip. “You’re our hench human now, ‘course we gotta feed ya. We can’t have a weakling followin’ us around.”

Lem nods in agreement.

“Uh, right.” You nod with a stiff smile. “Thanks.”

With a loud laugh, Rex rips open a bag of chips. “‘Course, hench human! Let us know if you’re still hungry, got it?”

“...Got it,” you agree, before digging into your own sandwich. It’s actually kind of good.

Since that point onwards, you continue to hang out with Rex and Lem. Contrary to their appearance, Rex and Lem are good students, always on time to class (and thus making sure you’re on time too). They’re not… really delinquent like, truthfully.

In fact, one time, you thought they were smoking, but they were just eating lollipops. Another time, you thought they were drinking beer, but it was just apple juice. Frankly speaking, they baffle you – other than their appearance, they don’t really… do anything delinquent-like. But they’re also convinced that they are doing something delinquent like.

“We’re showin’ up to class ‘cause we’re asserting our dominance,” Rex had explained when you asked why he wasn’t skipping class. 

Lem nodded sagely in agreement. “The class is all scared of us, y’see? We gotta show ‘em who’s boss.”

When you asked them about the lollipops and apple juice, Rex said, “It’s ‘cause lollipops and apple juice have a lotta sugar. They’re super dangerous, which is why we’re usin’ ‘em. We’re strong like that.”

“Yeah, we’re cool like that,” Lem agrees.

You honestly don’t really get their logic, but… they’re not bad to hang out with. They take you on bicycle rides (not motorbikes, though, since Lem is scared of them). They walk you home because, according to Rex, “No one’s gonna hurt our hench human!”

They’re strange guys, but they’re kind of fun in an endearing sort of way, maybe. You don’t really mind hanging out with them. Plus, they always buy you lunch. It’s nice eating with them on the rooftop.

“Man, I can’t believe midterms are comin’ up,” Rex groans, looking displeased as he tosses a chip into his mouth. “Gotta study.”

“You guys are studying for midterms?” you ask, making Rex and Lem nod solemnly.

“We hafta. How else are we gonna show the rest of them how scary we are?” Lem inquires, crossing his arms as he chews on his lollipop. “We gotta show ‘em that we’re the strongest.”

“Don’t worry,” Rex says, slapping your back with a grin. “Ya got us, yeah? We’ll make sure that no one can mess with ya. Lem and I are top five in the whole school – we can teach ya, no worries.”

You blink slowly, processing the information. They actually study despite being delinquents to the point that they’re top five in the entire school? Huh?! How does that make sense?

But as you watch them eagerly discuss how they’ll make study guides for you to help you study, you can’t help but let your incredulousness go.

Because, yeah, they’re not traditional delinquents… but they’re doing their best and they care about you a ton, so maybe that’s what really matters in the end.

Maybe.

[missdynamighttt]

HEARRRRR MEEEEE OUTTTT

you and older bf! bakugo katsuki on the beach together. and i mean.. OLDER. (reader at her early 20's, katsuki in his mid-30's)

the sun was high in the sky, casting a golden hue over you as the waves gently met the grainy sand with a salty breeze.

you were at the beach, peacefully sat in front of your boyfriend, katsuki, on a soft blanket as he smothers sunscreen on your back.

he insisted on putting it on for you. not because he wanted to touch your bare skin or anything, but because:

"why so insistent, hm, old man?"

"what, a man can't take care of his girlfriend 'nymore?"

you laugh, leaning back to kiss his cheek. "i suppose he can. such a considerate boyfriend you are."

"tch, damn right," he mutters, reciprocating your kiss by dropping an affectionate peck to your shoulder.

"gotta keep your pretty skin protected, doll. and don't get me started on your whinin' when you do get sunburned."

although he'll never admit, its a damn good excuse to feel your soft, warm skin.

after awhile, he finishes applying the sunscreen on your back and gives your ass a soft pat. "all done."

you turn around to face him with a smile, settling onto your knees in front of him. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as your gaze meets his.

"you're so good to me, katsuki."

katsuki's arms quickly slide around your waist on instinct, raising an eyebrow at your suggestive praise. he doesn't mind, though. he always indulges his pretty little girlfriend.

"i plan to be good to you for a long time, doll. get used to it."

a small, affectionate smile spreads across your face as you feel your heart melt a little. he always had such a way with words, its sickeningly sweet.

you reach behind him and give his ass a playful squeeze, grinning at him. "c'mon, i'll do yours."

katsuki scoffs, a soft huff leaving his lips as you grab his behind. he nods, slowly untangling himself from you, his back facing you. "go ahead. and no messin' around."

you reach for the sunscreen and put some on your hand with a grin, taking your time to map out the contours and curves of his back. his own hands rest on your thighs as yours trail over his muscles, tracing every little dip and scar, admiring what makes him, him.

as your hands start to roam along his muscles, you can't resist the urge to give his muscles a quick, appreciative squeeze, feeling the tightness beneath your fingertips before you settle down to spread the sunscreen evenly again.

his hands grip your thighs slightly as he felt you grope his muscles, a quiet yelp escaping your lips.

"watch it."

"oh, don't worry. that was on purpose."

"tch, brat."

you laugh softly as your eyes rake over his physique, taking in the sight of his muscular back and strong arms.

"can't help it, katsuki. you're just so... hot."

he shakes his head in annoyance, but a blush spreads across his face at your comment.

"hush. we're in public."

"and? theres no one around! besides, i'm only calling you hot. my handsome, grumpy, jacked boyfriend with a huge dic-"

"doll, you're lucky i love you so much or i'd shut your ass up for good."

a soft chuckle escapes your lips as you smile, mumbling a soft "i love you too," as you finish with the sunscreen. "all done."

katsuki turns back to face you, looking around to make sure no one was really there, before he reaches out and grabs your waist, pulling you into his lap.

your eyebrow raises in surprise and amusement, a playful grin spreading across your face as you adjust in your position, straddling him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"i thought you said we were in public."

"don't care. couldn't resist you 'nymore, sweets. sittin' there, teasin' me and lookin' all pretty. i'm only an old man, y'know."

"aww, katsuki," you tilt your head, wearing a soft smile. "think i'm sooo pretty, huh?"

katsuki lets out a soft chuckle, a weak smile on his lips as his eyes roam over your face. he reaches out and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, his hand cupping your cheek gently.

"baby, you're the most beautiful woman i've ever laid eyes on. of course you're pretty. so goddamn pretty that i wanna take real good care of you as a husband but i also wanna fuck you so hard until the bed breaks."

the grin on his face spreads. "or you. whichever comes first."

you were like a deer in headlights, your heart and pussy melting as you try to process his words. you knew he always kept his word, so...

"a-as a husband..?"

"you heard me. i'm sure i ruined other men for you 'nyway. hell, you think i'm gonna let anyone else have you, sweets? even if you don't have the ring, which you will... you're absolutely, my most drop-dead gorgeous fucking wife."

he looks at your bewildered expression, the grin still on his face as he reaches for your hand, kissing your knuckles.

"you have a problem with that, wife?"

you shake your head, still feeling flustered and a little embarrassed by his declaration. but you knew.. this was the moment you mentally declared you definitely wanted him to make you juno.

but before you can say anything, katsuki leans in and plants a gentle, soft peck on your lips. when he pulls back, his gaze is filled with nothing but love. "good. now, lets go swim."

you nod but before you can even begin to stand up, katsuki tightens his grip on your waist and lifts you up into his arms, adjusting you as you're cradled against his chest in a classic bridal style.

"katsuki!" you yelp, laughing, trying (and failing) to escape.

"what? you think i'm gonna let you walk when i can just carry you?" he grins down at you before he starts walking toward the ocean.

"katsuki bakugo, i swear to god, if you drop me-"

"me? drop you? baby, be serious. i'd never even dare to think about letting go of you."

you roll your eyes at him with a playful grin as his toes dip into the water. he starts to lower you both, settling into a comfortable position.

you straddle him once more, feeling his strong hands shifting you, adjusting your body so that it fits even more snugly against his own.

he looks up at you with a smirk as he plants gentle kisses on your shoulders and neck. his arms wrap around your waist and his bare chest presses against yours.

"katsuki.." you bite your bottom lip, feeling hot and bothered.

"hm?" he hums, as his lips ghost over your skin. "somethin' in that pretty little head of yours, baby?"

"this isn't really.. swimming."

"yeah? how is that my problem?"

"katsuki. we're in public. we can't—"

"baby, we could. no ones around to see anythin'. besides, when have we ever let that stop us?"

"still.." a small huff escapes your lips as your cheeks heat up. the memories flood your mind, feeling your heart rate speeding up and your core painfully clenching down on nothing as you try to keep your composure.

katsuki knew you were contemplating and he was encouraged. one of his hands slowly slid up from your hip along your ribcage, his thumb brushing gently against the side of your right breast.

"c'mon, doll," he coos, slipping his hand inside your bra, fondling you. "no one's gonna know. please, please let me fuck you."

you can't think clearly as he pinches your nipple, your moans echoing in your ears. your mind is fogged with thoughts of the need to feel him, to feel his cock filling you up to the brim. then, you find yourself nodding.

"good girl."

"not.. here though. saltwater feels weird and i'm scared you might step on a sea urchin or something."

katsuki looks up at you with a grin, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of amusement and willingness to do whatever it takes to please you. he nods, giving your lips a peck. "yes, ma'am."

katsuki's lips crash into yours, pressing them together in a sloppy, and intensely needy kiss as he lays you down on the blanket. there's a hunger behind his kiss that takes your breath away, feeling a little light-headed as he messily claims your mouth.

his hand desperately finds your inner thighs, rubbing your throbbing clit through your panties before pulling it to the side.

with his other hand, he takes his cock out, slowly aligning it towards your slit. the both of you gasp softly as the tip of his cock and your clit kiss.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as he slowly thrust his cock into you, holding onto your hips tightly.

"i'm suprised you.." you taunt him, wanting him to go harder on you, rougher. "still have so much energy, old man."

his eyes narrow at you, rolling his hips softly against yours as your chests heave together. "you've got jokes now, sweets?"

"uh-huh," you breathe out. "it's.. adorable you can still keep up with me."

"adorable, huh?"

"yeah.. i mean.. you're doing great for someone who remembers when condoms didn't exist.. thats why you're fucking me raw, right..?"

"call me old one more damn time.."

"what? gonna lecture me about respecting my elders?"

he doesn't bother with a response as he starts pounding into you harder, your moans echoing in his ears like a melody. he holds onto your hips tighter as he watches the girthy base of his cock covered by a ring of your creamy slick, roughly kissing your folds.

katsuki might've been an 'old man' but he never lacked the stamina to rail the shit out of you. he always managed to fuck you silly, dumb you down into a cock-hungry little thing.

"oh, fuck yes," he hisses as he feels your legs wrap around him. "still think i'm too old for you, huh?"

"no, no.. fuck, feels so good katsuki... don't stop, please, don't stop-"

"ain't never gonna stop, sweets," his hands crawl down to your ass, squeezing them hard. "not until you cum all over my cock, yeah?"

katsuki chuckles as you nod, pulling him in for a needy, desperate kiss. his tongue quickly delves into your mouth, his teeth catching your lip as he sucks on it gently.

as the kiss deepens, his hands on your ass pushes you harder on his cock, both of you swallowing each other's moans into the kiss, drowning in each other's taste.

katsuki pulls away, leaving you gasping and desperate for more. your voice is needy and a little pleading as you manage to speak, your words are ragged, breath coming in short, shallow pants.

"katsuki... 'm close, 'm close... please..."

"yeah? you close, baby? gonna cum for me, huh?"

your head nods as you desperately cling to him, your body is trembling with need.

"do it. be a good girl and cum on my cock, baby. cum with me, c'mon."

your body trembles and shudders with him, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as you finally let go, releasing all the tension and control you had been holding onto.

you feel your body growing limper in his arms as you sink into him as his cock fills you raw with his creamy, sticky seed.

"that's a good girl. that's my good girl," he whispers against your skin, peppering your skin in soft kisses, his hand gently rubbing your leg. "i've got you. you did so good, doll, takin' me like that."

he plants a few more kisses on your neck before he pulls back a little, his eyes meeting yours as a soft smile spreads across his face.

"you doing okay, doll?"

you nod weakly, your body feeling spent and weary, too tired for words. you can feel the strain and tension in your muscles, the exertion of sex act practically leaving you boneless.

katsuki grins, reaches for your hand and kissing your knuckles again. "talkin' a whole lot for someone who was spoutin' earlier about bein' able to keep up with you. don't tell me this old man tired you out?"

"katsuki.. shut up."

he laughs outright at your response, gently pinching your hands as he chuckles.

"what? am i not supposed to feel a little proud for makin' my girl so tired, she can't speak?"

you roll your eyes in mock irritation, a fond grin slipping onto your lips. "you're real lucky i love you, old man."

he chuckles, gently tracing along your chin with his thumb.

"oh, i'm most definitely the luckiest guy in the universe to have the most beautiful woman i love to death, love my grumpy ass back."

[writingwithciara]

blinking lights -quinn hughes-

summary: with planes grounded for the holiday due the snow storm, y/n & quinn are forced to spend christmas together. but oddly enough, neither of them seem to mind much

word count: 3.4k

pairing: quinn hughes x roommate!reader

note: i LOVE writing roommate quinn honestly

"i'm sorry mom. i won't be able to make it home this year. all flights out of vancouver are cancelled." y/n looked at the website opened on her laptop. her mom was sighing on the other end of the line. "i know. i'm sorry. but i should be able to visit in the new year. i promise."

"it's okay honey. i'm just glad that you'll be safe." her mom sighed again. "are your roommates stranded too?"

"i'm not sure. quinn left earlier to catch a flight so it's a possibility."

"well for you sake, i hope you're not alone for the holidays."

"i hope so too, mom." y/n looked up when the door opened. "gotta go, mom. quinn's home."

"okay sweetie. i'll call you tomorrow."

"alright. sounds good. love you."

as y/n hung up, quinn sat next to her on the couch.

"no luck?"

"unfortunately." y/n sighed and closed her laptop. "i'm guessing the same goes for you?"

"yeah. it kinda sucks. it's the first christmas i won't be able to see my family."

"at least neither of us will be alone this year."

"fair point." quinn chuckled and turned on the tv. "what should we watch?"

"frosty the snowman. always makes me feel better."

"got it." quinn smiled and put the movie on. he glanced around the bare apartment. "since we'll both be here for christmas, why don't we decorate? we can also combine traditions and do them together."

"i guess it beats sitting in an empty apartment. we definitely need some christmas spirit in this place."

"strongly agree. we'll go out tomorrow to get some decorations and we'll make a day of decorating and traditions."

"alright." y/n turned her attention to the tv screen. "my mom is supposed to call me tomorrow and she may want to talk to you."

"why?"

"i don't know. i suppose it's because i talk about you a lot but i think she's not sure if you're a guy or a girl. never really specified, honestly." she smiled. "i'm only telling you now so you're not completely shocked when she calls."

"alright." he smiled. "should i expect any questions?"

"she'll probably asked why i'm living with you and stuff like that."

"okay. i think i can handle it." quinn smiled.

after the movie, they both went to their rooms to get some sleep. decorating their apartment was going to be a huge task but if anyone could do it, it's y/n & quinn.

the next morning, y/n woke up early and sent her mom a text.

hey mom. i'm going shopping with quinn today and we're gonna be decorating our apartment after. i'll call you later, alright? love you <3

the second she heard quinn moving around in his room, she smiled and put on a pot of coffee. y/n watched him walk into the kitchen slowly. he smiled at her and sat at the counter.

"ready to shop for decorations today?"

"you bet." y/n smiled and poured them each a cup of coffee. she was excited to spend more time with quinn than she was used to. for the past 3 years, she had been harboring a crush on her roommate but the timing to tell him was never right. he was almost always in a relationship and his girlfriends barely liked her. they tolerated her, at best. and that was why she didn't spend a whole lot of time with him.

when the time came, quinn drove them to the seasonal store downtown. they went their separate ways once inside so they could get the decorations faster and have more time putting everything up.

while walking down the 'gifts for her' aisle, quinn saw something on the shelf that he knew y/n would love. it was so perfectly her that he just couldn't pass it up. he couldn't help the way his heart beat faster just thinking of what her reaction would be. he was so far gone for her but didn't want to risk pushing her away. especially not when she was finally spending time with him again.

it took 20 minutes to get everything and quinn insisted on paying for everything. he didn't y/n to see the gift he was getting her.

when they got home, quinn quickly hid the gift in his room, deciding he would wrap it tonight and give it to her in the morning. by the time he made it back to the living room, y/n had all the decorations sorted out in piles based on each room they were going to work on.

"so i figured you could get started in the kitchen while i worked out here. fair warning, i may need your help after."

"then why don't we work together?" he chuckled. "wouldn't that make more sense?"

"well i was going to play christmas music and when i dance, it looks weird."

"i highly doubt that." he smiled. "i've seen you dance before."

"that was always choreographed or because i was drunk. but i'm sober and don't want to make a fool of myself."

"y/n, i don't think you're capable of doing such a thing. just let me help you out here."

"alright, fine. but no judging me on my dance moves, hughes."

"i would never." quinn smiled and grabbed a box of lights. he grabbed the necessary items to get started while y/n put some music on the speaker. "wanna start on opposite ends and meet in the middle?"

"yes sir." y/n grabbed the other decorations and went across the room. halfway through the 3rd song, quinn was done hanging lights. he turned to look at y/n. she was dancing and in her own little world and quinn couldn't help but admire her more. how could she think she'd look like a fool? he thought she was beautiful and one day, he was going to get the courage to tell her.

when y/n turned around to grab something, she noticed quinn staring at her. it suddenly made her self conscious. "what?"

"nothing. i was just watching you dance."

"oh. i'm sorry about that. i told you i looked like a fool when i dance sober."

"quite the opposite actually. it was pretty cute." he chuckled and headed to the kitchen to start decorating, leaving y/n to stare with red cheeks.

it took her a minute to follow but when she finally got to the kitchen, quinn was already halfway through decorating.

"wow. you work fast." y/n smiled and instead of offering to help, she just leaned against the counter and watched him.

"yeah. sorry about that. i just couldn't help myself. i know you wanted to help with the decorating."

"no. it's perfectly fine. i like observing." y/n smirked and pulled out a mug. she poured herself some hot chocolate and sipped it while quinn went back to work. while he worked, y/n climbed onto the counter and smiled. this was the perfect way to admire quinn without feeling too guilty.

by the time quinn was finished, y/n had a mug of hot chocolate made for him. when she handed it to him, their fingers brushed against each other, causing y/n to draw her hand back quickly. the moment was interrupted when y/n's phone was ringing. she glanced down at the caller id.

"it's my mom." y/n showed him the phone and hit the 'accept' button. her moms face filled the screen in seconds. "hey mom."

"hey sweetie. how's your day?"

"it's good. quinn and i have been decorating for an hour. the place looks amazing. wanna see it?"

"in a minute. i want to meet your roommate."

y/n looked up and held the phone out to quinn. he took it and moved to stand beside y/n so they'd both be on the screen.

"hi. it's nice to finally meet you."

"oh my. you're certainly not what i was expecting."

"y/n informed me that you would say something like that." he smiled.

"how's it going, living with my baby?"

"mom!" y/n turned her face into quinn's shoulder while he chuckled.

"it's great. we're having the best time." he couldn't stop smiling. y/n's head fit perfectly in his shoulder. it was like a dream come true to have her this close. "she's amazing and probably my best friend."

"i'm glad she has such a good friend, honestly. i was so worried about her."

"you don't have to worry about her now. she's in good hands." he chuckled and threw his arm around y/n's shoulder. she grabbed the phone from him and smiled.

"alright. we gotta finish decorating. i'll talk to you later. bye mom. i love you."

"bye you guys. love you too."

after she hung up, y/n turned to quinn. "i'm your best friend, huh?"

"yeah, actually." he turned to stand across from her. "and it kind of hurt when you distanced yourself a little bit over the last 2 years. thought it was something i did. but i'm really glad you're coming back around."

"yeah i'm sorry about that. but none of your girlfriends liked me so i thought it'd be easier for your relationships if i wasn't around a whole lot."

"why didn't they like you?"

"i don't know." y/n shrugged and turned to refill her mug. "but for the record, you're my best friend too."

"glad to hear it." quinn smiled slightly before walking out to the living room. although he had just called her his best friend, he didn't like hearing the word come from her mouth.

"quinn," y/n called out after him as she followed him into the living room. "i'm never going to distance myself from you again, okay? it was hurting me too."

"i'm sorry you felt like you had to give me space. and i'm really sorry they didn't like you. i don't understand why they didn't. you're one of the most likeable people i know."

"i try to be. and i don't understand why they didn't. but it's all in the past and i've learned from my mistakes." y/n sat and looked at him. "i can never stay away from you, quinn. it'll probably kill me."

"well i'm glad you're sticking around because it would probably kill me too, if i'm being honest." he turned to face her and smiled. "so, are there any traditions you have with your family that we can do tonight?"

"my mom and i usually bake cookies and eat some random take-out while watching home alone or how the grinch stole christmas. but we don't have to do that."

"why not? it sounds like fun."

"you'd really want to bake cookies with me?" y/n's eyes widened and she couldn't help the way her smile grew.

"of course. if it makes you happy, then i'll do anything."

y/n tried to ignore the way her heart wanted to beat out of her chest. never in her life had she met a guy so willing to do anything she had asked. it took everything in her not to launch herself across the couch and kiss him. she had to keep reminding herself that they were just friends.

while they baked cookies, both of them enjoyed the closeness of the other. side by side and covered in flour. usually, quinn hated messes but with y/n, he didn't care.

when they put the cookies in the oven, quinn wiped his hands on a towel.

"i'm gonna go take a shower. you order dinner and pick out the movie. i'll be out in a bit." quinn didn't wait for her to reply. he just headed into the bathroom to shower. he spent half an hour in their and when he got out to get dressed, he realized that with his quick exit, he forgot to grab a new shirt from his room. the one he was wearing was covered in flour but luckily the rest of his clothes were fine. he put on his shorts and walked out into the hallway.

y/n looked up from the couch and watched quinn walk into his room. she only got a brief look at him but she was still speechless, regardless of having seen him without a shirt many times. she quickly turned her attention to the tv when he came walking back out to join her on the couch.

"food should be here in 10 minutes and i decided to go with home alone this year. is that okay?"

"it's perfect." quinn smiled and threw his arm around the back of the couch. the couch was big enough for at least 7 people but they were sitting on the same cushion. not close enough to be touching but close enough to feel the heat radiating off of each other. and every few seconds, quinn's thumb would rub against y/n's shoulder. but neither of them seemed to care.

when the food arrived, quinn went to grab it. and when he sat back down, he was closer to y/n than before. as they ate, y/n tried not to focus on the closeness of her best friend. it was hard but she was able to do it.

until he swung his arm back over the couch. he may as well have just placed it across her shoulder with the way his hand was resting there. as they watched the movie, quinn had moved his arm down to where it was actually resting across y/n. she looked at him with an innocent smile, which he adored, then went back to watching the rest of the movie.

when the movie was finally over, y/n stood up and stretched. "well i'm gonna get ready for bed."

"before you do, i was wondering if you wanted to take part in one of my family's traditions."

"it's not going to be something weird, is it?"

"no." he smiled. "unless you count wearing matching pajamas to bed on christmas eve."

"oh my gosh. my family does the same thing." y/n giggled. "wait, do we have matching pajamas?"

"yeah. i bought them a few days ago and was intending to give you a pair before i left for the holidays but i guess it was just meant to happen this way. be right back." quinn smiled and ran to his room. he returned seconds later with the pjs. "i hope you like them."

"they're a gift from you, quinn. i always like those." y/n smiled and headed into her room to change. quinn did the same and they managed to come out at the same time. all he could so was admire the way the clothes fit y/n perfectly. "how did you know my size?"

"because i know you." quinn chuckled, not wanting to admit it was because he stared at her so long that he memorized everything.

"you're the most perfect roommate, quinn." she smiled and threw her arms around him. "thank you."

he immediately hugged her back. "you're welcome."

"okay. well it's bed time now. i'll see you in the morning. good night quinn." y/n ran off the her room to try to get some sleep. but she knew that would be impossible, due to the overwhelming attraction she was feeling. if she didn't tell quinn soon, her emotions were going to shut her down.

as quinn sat at the desk in his room, he couldn't stop thinking about how excited y/n had been when she came out in the pjs. he had seen her happy many times but there was just something different this time.

he wrapped her gift neatly and set it down beside his bed. it was going to be the first thing he grabbed in the morning and he hoped she would love it as much as he loved her.

when the sun rose the next morning, quinn grabbed the box and headed out to the kitchen. y/n was normally a morning person so he was surprised that she hadn't woken up yet. he set the box on the counter and began making coffee. just as he was adding the finishing touches to y/n's coffee, she walked out of her room.

"good morning, quinn."

"good morning, y/n" he smiled and handed her the coffee. when she took a sip, her whole body instantly warmed up.

"this is the best coffee i've ever tasted. thank you." she grinned and continued to drink it as they both made their way onto the couch.

"so what else does your family do for christmas?"

"we stay in our pjs all day and spend time together. it's pretty boring but if you're around the right people, you can have the best time."

"well then that's exactly what we will do today." quinn smiled. "oh, before i forget, i have a present for you. close your eyes." he got off the couch and grabbed the gift from the kitchen before returning. "i hope you like it."

y/n unwrapped it carefully and opened the box. she pulled out a teddy bear with a canucks jersey on. and not just any jersey. a demko jersey. he even came with mini goalie pads and a helmet.

"i know how much you love thatcher so when i saw this, i just knew i had to get it for you."

"i love it so much. thank you, quinn." y/n set the bear down and hugged quinn. "i didn't get you anything. i'm sorry."

"it's alright. you being here is enough of a present for me." he rubbed her back and smiled. when y/n pulled back a little, her whole expression had changed. she was still happy but there were tears in her eyes.

"i appreciate that, quinn. but i feel like it's just not enough to make you truly happy."

"y/n, you're more than enough. you are the perfect gift."

y/n smiled and placed her lips on his. he was shocked at first and just as y/n was about to break the kiss, quinn pulled her closer and kissed her back. they stayed in that position for a few minutes before either one of them wanted to let go. when they separated, quinn rested his forehead against y/n's and smiled.

"if i had known that would be the outcome, i would've told you those words a long time ago." he smiled and held her face. "i've been wanting to say it for as long as i've known you but the timing was never right. you had steven and i had my own relationships. but i guess that's kind of a cowards excuse, huh?"

"nothing about you says 'coward', quinn." y/n smiled and closed her eyes. "you're the most kind, patient and sweetest man i've ever known in my life. these last 3 years of random relationships and hook-ups have all brought us to this exact moment. the moment where i can finally tell you that i've had the biggest crush on you for the past 3 years. i know it sounds insane but i like you a lot quinn. and maybe that's why your girlfriends were always jealous. they could probably tell how i felt and they didn't want me around to screw up their chances with you. that's why i had to keep a distance from you. i didn't want to have to make you choose between me and them because it would've been a losing battle for me."

"if that had ever happened, you would've won every single time. i never really cared about all those other girls. the only one that matters to me, is you. and i hope i conveyed that well enough in that kiss."

"seems pretty evident now." y/n smiled and finally opened her eyes. "guess that was kind of stupid of me, wasn't it?"

"not at all." quinn smiled. "like you said, the last 3 years of random relationships have brought us to this moment right here. the most perfect moment." he placed a kiss on her lips again but didn't give her enough time to reciprocate. "i love you, y/n. everything about you is so perfect and it's been driving me crazy for 3 years."

"i can't believe that the planes being grounded are the reason we're here together."

"me either. but i wouldn't change it for anything."

"i wouldn't either." y/n leaned up to kiss him again. "for the record, i love you too."

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

[sunsburns]

this came to me in a dream last night but imagine bsf!vi spying on you and your date (fem!reader, hints of caitvi x reader)

clearly, violet isn’t the jealous type, there wasn’t much that she was usually up against anyway. she was just… looking out for you—it was hard to trust some random date you met on an app or through some mutual friend.

“you don’t trust anyone, vi,” you said, smoothing the last stray pieces of hair in the mirror. vi stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame like she had nothing better to do, her arms crossed over her chest.

“i trust people,” she shot back. her tone was defensive like you’d accused her of something worse. “i do!”

“right,” you replied, your smile a little too knowing for her liking.

your phone buzzed on the counter, and vi’s gaze flickered to the screen. here, it read. she watched as your expression shifted—nerves and excitement mixed together in a way she didn’t see often.

“they’re outside,” you said, glancing at her. vi didn’t budge, just gave a small nod like she wasn’t planning to leave her spot anytime soon.

“have fun,” she said after a beat,

you grabbed your jacket and stepped past her, pausing just long enough to catch her eye. “don’t wait up.”

vi smirked, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “sure. i’ve got better things to do than babysit your bad decisions.”

and by better things, she meant standing there, riling herself up for no reason. vi lingered in the doorway long after you left, her arms now loosely hanging at her sides. she could picture it too clearly: you sitting at some café, that soft, nervous smile you got when you weren’t sure what to say, your fingers brushing over the edge of your cup, looking as good as you always did. only this time, that smile wasn’t for her. it was for some fucking stranger.

her jaw tightened as the thought settled in. what kind of person even asks you out like this? who were they to deserve your attention, your time? vi didn’t even know their name, let alone what they looked like, but the image of some faceless jerk talking too much, maybe trying to impress you with something lame, was enough to make her roll her eyes.

she wasn’t jealous. she wasn’t.

jealousy was messy, and vi didn’t do messy. she wasn’t the type to get all worked up over something that wasn’t her business. this wasn’t her business. except—what if this person turned out to be trouble? what if they hurt you?

shit, what if you liked them?

“sounds like jealousy to me,” caitlyn’s voice chimed through her phone’s speaker a few minutes later.

vi’s jaw tightened as she paced the room, staring at the faint reflection of herself in the window. hooded sweatshirt, messy hair, no real plan—she looked like someone gearing up for trouble. “shut up, it’s not.”

“uh-huh,” caitlyn said, entirely unconvinced.

vi exhaled heavily, tugging her hood up like it might smother the heat creeping up her neck. “i just… wish i knew what was going on. that’s all.” her voice was quieter this time, almost an admission.

she hated not knowing. not knowing who this person was, what they wanted with you, what you were saying to them right now. were you laughing? leaning in close?

“you just gotta chill,” caitlyn said, her tone softening slightly. “you’ll hear all about it when the date’s over, i’m sure. you’re overthinking this.”

“i have an idea,” vi said suddenly, the words spilling out before she’d fully thought them through.

“oh no.”

a slow, mischievous grin pulled at vi’s lips, and her pacing stopped. her fingers flexed at her side as a plan began to form. it wasn’t smart. it wasn’t subtle. it was terrible. “how quickly can you come over?”

“vi, whatever you’re thinking—”

“just get here.”

——

“i can’t believe you’ve dragged me into this,” caitlyn muttered, her voice low and filled with annoyance as she tugged the brim of her cap down further over her face. the fabric shadowed her sharp eyes, which were darting toward the café window like she was already second-guessing her decision to come.

“you love this,” vi said casually, fiddling with the drawstrings of her hoodie.

“no, vi, i really don’t,” caitlyn shot back, her words pointed but softened by a resigned sigh.

as they approached the café entrance, vi glanced inside, her eyes instantly locking onto you. there you were, seated across from somone who smiled at you. vi hated them already.

caitlyn slipped into a barstool near the window, unfolding a newspaper she’d grabbed from the stand out front. her face was completely hidden behind the thin pages. vi, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as subtle.

her hood was yanked low over her face, and the sunglasses perched on her nose were oversized and crooked, like she’d grabbed them in a hurry. vi hovered awkwardly by the counter, pretending to study the menu even though her eyes kept flicking over to you.

“you’re staring,” caitlyn hissed from behind the paper.

“am not,” vi muttered back, but she didn’t look away.

you were laughing now, that light, effortless kind of laugh that vi rarely saw unless she was the one making you smile. her chest tightened as she watched you tilt your head toward your date, your expression so open, so trusting.

“they’re not even funny,” vi grumbled, narrowing her eyes at your date.

“oh, please,” caitlyn whispered harshly, her exasperation cutting through vi’s muttering. “you’re acting ridiculous. do you even have a plan?”

“i’m working on it,” vi mumbled, finally tearing her eyes away to stare at the drink options on the board. she wasn’t working on anything. she just knew she had to be here—close enough to hear the cadence of your voice.

your date said something else, and you laughed again, this time louder, brighter. vi’s fists curled at her sides as her gut twisted uncomfortably.

“this is a terrible idea,” caitlyn said, sighing heavily as she lowered the paper just enough to glance at vi. “you’re a disaster.”

“shut up,” vi shot back under her breath. but deep down, she knew caitlyn was right.

disaster or not, she wasn’t leaving until your date was over.

[theogbadbitch]

Late reblog because you posted on this on my birthday and I was sick as a dog! But I’m here now🙂‍↕️

"Right," Patrice exclaimed. "Maybe I had a bad batch or something. It doesn't taste bad, but it smelled awful." Hmmm

“You don't know if Terry is even in here, mama. He could be anywhere in the house," Patrice answered, her face screwed in confusion.” They not fooling nobody, if Patrice is anywhere so is that man

“If he could quit his job and be totally devoted to her pleasure, he would do so without a second thought. “ a REAL man

“Easy, baby," she complained as she gently pressed down on his arms to direct him away from the sensitive area. "They're super tender right now. I'm not sure why." 👀

“Terry opted to tat their wedding date on his ribs after having to be talked down from plastering her name on his neck.” He SO real

“I noticed. They've honestly been looking a little bigger. Do they feel heavy to you?" Ain’t no damn way they both this clueless

“I spend a lot of time with my girls. I better notice when they change. Been looking at them since I was sixteen." Terry answered, a boyish grin making his cheekbones nearly touch the corner of his eyes.” OH???

Terry:

“Looking was the least of what I was doing." He shrugged as he gently pushed both breasts together for his own viewing pleasure.” What you mean by that sir???

“ a single drop began to make a trail down the swell of her breast, he pulled the ice away and brought his mouth closer. "And I'll take care of the hot." They are so damn freaky this why Patrice is…nvm🌚 carry on

“Imani entered the house high off the exhilarating freedom that can only come for night drives with a carefully curated playlist blasting from the speakers.” HELLO???????

“Girl, you do not have to explain anything to me. This is your house! Honestly, if I had those big ol' mommy titties, I'd want them in somebody's face too. And you got them for free! The girls gotta go under the knife or get pregnant for those.” Imani immediately clocking it like baby the proof is in the pudding

They are both deeply unserious people.

Caught

Summary: When their guest is away, Terry and Patrice will play.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,067

Warnings: Smut (18+ content)

Recommended Reading: Spoiled

Author's Note: Spoiled, Back Up, and Caught all happen on the same linear timeline. Consider them present day events. Hopefully that helps pull things together because you'll need the context later. Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

"Mommy, the recipe for the hand pies is so good. Thank you for finding it for me." 

"Oh, of course, baby. One day, I gotta get you to help me put all your Nana's recipes in a book or something. I'm tired of digging through all these scraps of paper." 

"I didn't wanna say anything, but that's insane. I can barely read her handwriting." 

Rosalyn scoffed on the other end of the phone line. "You and me both. I have to call Sybil every time or end up making up what I think goes there. I cook. I don't decipher chicken scratch."

Patrice laughed along with her mother as she passed a piping hot meatball over her shoulder to satisfy her taste tester for the night. He hummed his approval of her gift, providing a thumbs up as his rating before returning his hand to her waist and swaying them in time with the slow rhythm of Christmas music playing in the background. 

Christmas Eve brought preparation for the big day on the other side of a wake-up and a smaller get-together to celebrate Imani's and Jesus's birthdays in one evening. Patrice had offered to continue the tradition at her house to accommodate her cousin's request for loud music, liquor, and good, grown folks' fun. In a few short minutes, she and Terry would have a house full of adults gorging themselves on party food and fighting fits of giggles during a drunk game of Taboo. For now, she'd enjoy the calm before the storm with her shadow attached at the hip.

"The cinnamon smell for the apple version was way too strong, though. I almost skipped those altogether." 

Rosalyn responded with a sound of cautious curiosity. "Really? You usually love the smell of cinnamon." 

"Right," Patrice exclaimed. "Maybe I had a bad batch or something. It doesn't taste bad, but it smelled awful."

"Hm." Rosalyn filed the information in her head for a later moment of privacy, preferring not to stress her daughter with the questions buzzing around in the mind of a mother who knew her child better than anyone in the world. Instead, she continued. "Terry, did you like the hand pies?"

"You don't know if Terry is even in here, mama. He could be anywhere in the house," Patrice answered, her face screwed in confusion.

"Child, don't insult me. If you're in the kitchen, Terry is in the kitchen."

She wasn't wrong. A few too many glasses of Patrice's special holiday cocktail mixed with his ever-present desire to feel his wife at all times had Terry sticking to her like glue. Even after she'd given in to each of his kisses and allowed him to taste her the moment Imani stepped out to run a few errands, she still couldn't shake him. Whiskey was in control. Terry was only along for the ride.

He chuckled into the crook of Patrice's neck before confirming his presence. "Yes, ma'am, I loved the pies. Treece made a few on the side for me so I wouldn't have to share." 

"She still got you spoiled, I see."

"Nah, not too bad. You know she gets sweet once a week. I caught her on a good day." 

"Oh, hush."

Patrice's attempt to get out of Terry's grasp came up empty, prompting him to hold her tighter and press wet kisses onto the back of her neck. She was sadly mistaken if she thought she could get away from him that easy while Uncle Nearest was pumping through his veins. 

"Well, let me let you two go," Rosalyn started with a small laugh. "Tell me how the chicken salad turns out. I might throw some together as a little snack for your daddy tomorrow. You know how he gets when he's ready to eat." 

"Mhmm. Just like somebody else I know."

Terry patiently waited for Patrice to wrap up her conversation and safely end the call before resuming his handsy approach to PDA. His hands slid up and down the fabric of her cotton pajama pants, the pair matching his at her request. Full lips attached to her neck, creating a light suction with every open-mouthed kiss. 

His wife rolled her eyes as she loaded a pita chip with dip for his culinary opinion. "You are insatiable, TJ. Taste this." 

He obliged, opening wide as she slid food into his mouth and waited for a response. Instead of a verbal assessment of her work, he kissed her cheek twice to signal his approval, then returned to his shameless groping.

"How long before Imani gets back?" 

"I don't know. Fifteen minutes or so. She only went to grab some more cups and water." 

Terry's eyes flickered to the digital clock on the stove before sliding his hands up Patrice's torso and leaving a trail of kisses on her shoulder. "Think you got a few minutes to get back to what we started?" 

"Haven't you had enough of me yet? We've been going at it every day since New Orleans."

"What you think?"

Having enough of her touch, the feeling of her body against his, or her attention was a foreign concept for Terry. If he could quit his job and be totally devoted to her pleasure, he would do so without a second thought. Fortunately for him, though, extended absences from the slough of office life due to the holidays provided the closest opportunity to spend the whole day in it. 

Patrice smiled to herself as Terry slowly removed the serving spoon from her hand, bringing her delicate palm up to the back of his head. Coarse hair grown into a short tuft of curls and shaped by his barber tickled her fingertips as she closed her eyes, officially caught up in how Terry caressed her with the care afforded to precious works of art. 

A low purr slipped past his lips as his hands slid beneath the hem of her camisole to rub her stomach, filling her ears and mind with filthy sounds and images from earlier in the hour. Had he had enough of her? She wasn't sure she'd had enough of him. 

His fingertips inched higher, further intoxicating Patrice until a full squeeze on both breasts at the same time made her hiss and wince in pain. 

"Easy, baby," she complained as she gently pressed down on his arms to direct him away from the sensitive area. "They're super tender right now. I'm not sure why." 

Lust was quickly replaced by concern as Terry dropped his hands and turned Patrice to face him. "You okay?" 

"I'm fine, Pooh. It's probably the tattoo healing. 

"Yeah, but it shouldn't be making the entire area hurt. Especially not on both sides. Let me look."

"Terry, you never just look."

His attempt to slide the thin straps of her tank top down her arms was quickly cut short as Patrice brushed off his contact to save herself from what she assumed would come next. Her aching was a serious matter. Terry getting a look at her bare tits was not nearly as high on the list. 

Terry softened his eyes in unmistakable sincerity. "I'm serious, Treece. I know what it should look like. Come here."

Patrice didn't protest as Terry led her to the kitchen table. She stood perfectly still until Terry was comfortable in one of the chairs and then placed her between his legs. 

He gingerly pushed her tanktop straps down her arms before bunching the thin fabric at her waist to free her breasts, watching for any sign of discomfort.

"You don't think you're like…sick, do you?" 

"I think it's just tenderness," she quickly retorted, wanting to push the thought of more grave explanations for her discomfort far from her mind.

"Okay, okay. I'm only asking." 

Her brows furrowed as he lifted the right side to get a look at the moment from a charged few days in his family's old stomping grounds. 

A day alone and nothing to do but explore had them wandering into the same shady tattoo parlor where Terry got his first piece for matching ink. Terry opted to tat their wedding date on his ribs after having to be talked down from plastering her name on his neck. Patrice, however, was set on making her first experience one to remember. 

Slanted script crafted from his handwriting spelled Terry's full first name, curving just under the crease of her boob and the spot that he liked to grip in the depths of passion or simply at his leisure. Terry ran his thumb along each letter to check for abrasions or abnormalities. 

He looked up at Patrice to gauge her reaction. "That hurt?" 

"Not really. It's more here," she added, gesturing toward her areola. "Anything rubbing against it is so uncomfortable. I can barely wear a bra." 

"I noticed. They've honestly been looking a little bigger. Do they feel heavy to you?" 

"Not heavy. Mostly…full? They look great, though. I'm not complaining about that part." 

She joked, the attempt sounding silly once it received no reaction past Terry blinking as he used the pad of his thumb to ghost contact over her pebbled nipple to test her pain level. It was challenging to stay present, with a third of her upper half unnecessarily exposed in their kitchen for no real reason. The entire ordeal felt like a farce. Terrence wasn't a doctor, and him holding her titties in his hands like fleshy snowglobes was as much an actual check-up as WWE was real wrestling. 

When she giggled like a teenager learning about sex for the first time, Terry looked up at her with a quizzical expression, and his left eyebrow lifted high. "What's so funny?" 

"You, Doctor Richmond," she laughed. "How can you tell they're bigger? I couldn't even tell until the other day." 

"I spend a lot of time with my girls. I better notice when they change. Been looking at them since I was sixteen." Terry answered, a boyish grin making his cheekbones nearly touch the corner of his eyes. 

"I knew you used to look!" She exclaimed, finally feeling vindicated in her suspicions from childhood. 

"Looking was the least of what I was doing." He shrugged as he gently pushed both breasts together for his own viewing pleasure. He kissed the small crease they made two times over, then looked up at Patrice through long lashes. "Unfortunately, ma'am, I couldn't diagnose you, but I think I have some treatment available if you're interested." 

Patrice bit back a smile to play along. "Oh yeah? How much is this gonna cost? It's the holidays, and I ain't got it." 

"I offer payment plans that we can discuss in that room back there later tonight." 

"I like the sound of that," she answered, previous problems vanishing into thin air as he roped her back into his web of liquor-charged desire. 

"I knew you would," he winked. "Don't move."

Tingles rippled across Patrice's skin while she listened for any indication of Terry's secretive treatment plan. The soft crack and subsequent rush of cool from the freezer created goosebumps on her bare chest, making her nipples jut out proud from the sensation. Next came the cupboard opening and shutting in two seconds time. From the direction, she could tell he was grabbing a glass from over the sink. 

Ice cubes clinked against the cup like little masters of whispers attempting to give Patrice the scoop on what to expect. Terry quietly shut the freezer and took heavy steps back to his seat, smiling at how Patrice truly hadn't moved a muscle in his few minutes away. 

He placed the glass on the table behind him before tugging her hand to guide her closer. "Cold hot therapy. I sprained my knee once, and this got me back up and running in no time. Ice for the cold…" Terry's voice trailed as he plucked a piece of ice from his glass and pressed it to her nipple. He watched her jaw drop with a sharp inhale, intently focused on the way her eyelids fluttered closed at the sudden shock of frozen water. When a single drop began to make a trail down the swell of her breast, he pulled the ice away and brought his mouth closer. "And I'll take care of the hot."

"Oh…my God." 

Whispers of unexpected pleasure sent Terry into a far-off place where he was only concerned with running a flat tongue across supple skin. Patrice rushed to steady herself by bringing her hands to the back of his head, cradling him while he went to work. 

Ice cold. Soothing warmth. Ice cold. Soothing warmth and a light suckle. Again. And again. 

He eyed her like a lion watches prey, taking notes of every little sound and twitch to know that he was fulfilling his job. 

"Good job, baby," Patrice whispered, her head tossed back and praises spoken to the ceiling. "Good fuckin' job."

Terry ran his hands up the back of her thighs to roughly grip her ass. He groaned at the affirmation before pulling away to retrieve more ice. He held a small cube between his teeth to multitask, running it across her left nipple and areola until it had melted enough to fit both in his mouth. 

Was it fixing her tenderness issue? Not really. But Patrice would be damned if his subtle slurping and moaning with her backside firmly in his clutches wasn't sufficiently taking her mind off things. So far off, she'd lost all concept of time and space. 

While Terry pulled Patrice into his lap for a more intensive inspection, Imani entered the house high off the exhilarating freedom that can only come for night drives with a carefully curated playlist blasting from the speakers. Being stateside for the first time in a year was the perfect opportunity to experience one of life's simple pleasures. 

Grocery bags rustled and knocked against the wall as she hummed along to the fragmented lyrics from a song on her Spotify playlist still coursing through her brain. A short pause in her personal concert to lock the door left space to hear a string of curious noises. Muffled half-sentences and a sort of trembling sigh made her quirk an eyebrow. She thought to herself that Terry and Patrice left the television on far too often for a pair of people who claimed to not spend much time in front of the tube, but quickly found that they'd taken to making a scene the old-fashioned way. 

She stood in the open space, a perfectly shaped eyebrow pushed high on her face and an impressed smirk tugging at the right corner of her lip while she watched her baby cousin makeout with Imani's newest family member with a ferocity she didn't know Patrice had in her. 

Patrice held Terry steady by his jaw, slightly hovering over him while she had her way leading a sloppy kiss. When she moved to push his head back toward her chest with a string of words filthy enough to make a pornstar blush, Imani cleared her throat to finally announce her presence.

"Oh shit," Patrice yelped, rushing to tap Terry's back and end his check-up. 

His head popped up to survey the room, then slowly found a home on top of Patrice's once she pressed close enough against his chest to cover her naked breasts. The vibrations from his concealed chortling made Patrice pinch him in frustration. Nothing was funny, at least not to her. 

Imani held her hands up in faux surrender. "No, please. Don't stop on account of me," she laughed. "Y'all were just getting started." 

"We are so sorry, Moanie. This isn't what it looks like. Well, this part is exactly what it looks like, but I promise it didn't start like this. Terry was looking at my boobs to check on my tattoo and -" 

"Girl, you do not have to explain anything to me. This is your house! Honestly, if I had those big ol' mommy titties, I'd want them in somebody's face too. And you got them for free! The girls gotta go under the knife or get pregnant for those. How does it feel to be God's favorite? Terry, can you help me get the water out of the car when you finish?"

Terry looked down at his visibly distressed wife and then back at Imani to save face for the both of them. "Yeah, I got you. Gimme a minute." 

Moanie didn't notice how she'd launched her cousin into an internal spiral as she pranced off to busy herself with getting ready in her room for the week, but Terry did. He carefully sat Patrice up and helped redress her, careful to ease into conversation. 

"You alright?" 

"I had my cycle this month," Patrice rushed out, her gaze far off as Terry lifted her arm to put it back in her camisole strap. "It can't be that. I had my cycle." When her focus returned, her eyes snapped to Terry's for confirmation. "Right? I did, right?"

He nodded, unsure of how to proceed to quell her fear. "You did, baby. But, maybe…"

Sure, it was lighter than usual, but she'd had a cycle. Her body functioned like it did every month, on time and without pomp and circumstance. There was no cause for concern. 

But…maybe. 

Patrice looked down at her belly then back up at Terry, searching for answers in his sympathetic expression. He leaned forward and held her head with both hands to give her a kiss she couldn't return before he spoke. 

"Don't drink tonight. Just in case. We'll figure it out in the morning. Okay?"

"Okay." She whispered back without truly processing the gravity of his instruction. 

Terry slowly lifted Patrice from his lap to fulfill Imani's request for assistance, leaving her to stand perfectly still in the kitchen. She counted backward in her head, retracing her steps and important dates until a headache sent her to take a seat. 

It was just tenderness. It'd go away by morning, and all of this would be a silly story to tell whenever they got together in the spring for their European honeymoon. She'd drink an entire bottle of wine over heaps of pasta, turning the whole situation into a fond memory before raising her hand to call the server for another round. All water under the bridge, right?

But…maybe.

------

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[miwsolovely]

— AN OLD SYMPHONY

𝜗𝜚 — in which, John gets sick after a mission in Siberia, never been one for the cold, that one. Good thing he has a sweetheart for a lover.

JOHN PRICE x NIKOLAI wtv the frerreeak his last name is angst — but if you blink, its gone — w comfort. john trying to be stubborn, nik being an idiot in love. 2.4k. — loved this ( my first cxc fic !!! ) — requested

“John, you’re burnin’ up,” Nik muttered, one hand on John’s forehead and the other firmly planted on his hip.

“‘M fine,” John croaked, his voice betraying him with every syllable. He was wrapped in their old, oversized knit blanket, slouched on the couch like a grumpy bear hibernating in the wrong season. His nose was red, his cheeks flushed from the fever, and his thick brows furrowed in irritation.

Nik sighed. “You’ve said that three times now. You weren’t fine when you tried to argue with me about takin’ your clothes off, and you’re not fine now.”

John grumbled something unintelligible and sank deeper into the cushions.

Shaking his head, Nik left the living room and headed to their kitchen. It wasn’t the first time that John had pushed himself too hard, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last which made his partner’s gut twist up in worry.

But Nik knew exactly how to handle him—grumpy disposition and all.

The familiar sound of chopping vegetables and the soft clatter of pots filled the house. Nik moved with practiced ease, humming to himself as he worked. John pretended not to care, but the smell of onions, garlic, and herbs slowly lured him out of his sulk.

By the time Nik returned with a steaming bowl of soup, his liver was sitting up, though still looking like he’d lost a fight with his fever.

“‘Ere,” Nik said, handing him the bowl with a knowing smirk. “Eat.”

John stared at the soup, then up at Nik, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a line. “You didn’t have to go through all tha’ trouble.”

Nik raised a knowing brow and crossed his arms. “I didn’t marry you just to let you starve when you’re sick, lyubov.”

Grumbling under his breath, John picked up the spoon and took a hesitant sip. The warmth spread through him immediately, the savory broth and tender vegetables soothing his sore throat. He hated how good it was—mostly because it meant Nik was right.

“You’re makin’ it impossible to stay mad at you. He mumbled between bites.

Nik leaned down, brushing a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “Good. Now finish that and drink some water, or I’ll make you take medicine next.”

John scowled, but the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. He didn’t mind being taken care of—not when it was Nik.

“You’re too stubborn for your own damn good.”

That earns a chuckle from John, he raises his hand and wipes the sweat from his brow.

After waiting next to the couch for an hour just to make sure John was lucid enough, Nik made John waddle up stairs—which took at least five minutes— and lay down in their shared bed.

“Put ya hand down ya idiot,” His husband says. Wringing a cold compress into a bowl on their nightstand, and placing it on John’s forehead.

Partner, lover, husband.

John never thought he’d find himself thinking, saying, those words. Before, the words had felt foreign on his tongue, icy like the snow topped mountains in Siberia.

“You were right.” John croaks out. The bed dips where Nik sits down with a hand on John’s thigh.

“About what? M’right about a lotta things, gotta be more specific.” He says with a smile.

John opens his mouth to answer but his words escape him as a cough instead. He turns his head away from Nik as he does. When he turns back, he sighs and his eyes are blown, unfocused. “Tha’ Siberia woulda gotten me sick.”

Nik huffs at that, patting the hard, soft flesh of his lovers hand sitting at his thigh. “You need to listen to me more. Might learn a few things.”

John lets out a weak laugh, his voice still hoarse from the strain of his cough. “Listening to you, Nik, is what got me up in those mountains in the first place.”

Nik smirks, leaning back slightly, though his hand remains firm on John’s thigh, grounding him. “Ah, but if you didn’t, you’d be bored out of your damn mind, wouldn’t you?”

John tilts his head, eyes narrowing as if to challenge the statement, but the corners of his lips twitch upward despite himself. “Maybe,” He concedes, his tone light and teasing. “Still, I don’t recall you warning me about how bloody cold it’d be.”

Nik laughs at that—a full, deep sound that seems to warm the room more than any blanket could. “I warned you, stubborn bastard. You just refused to listen, like always.”

The banter feels easy, familiar, like the rhythm of an old song. Nik adjusts the compress on John’s forehead, his expression softening. “Rest now, John,” He says, his voice quieter, more insistent. “I’ve got you.”

John’s eyelids grow heavier as the warmth of Nik’s presence lulls him into something close to peace. “Yeah,” He murmurs, his voice barely audible as he slips into sleep. “I know you do.”

For a while, the room is silent save for John’s steady breathing. Nik sits there, watching over him, his own thoughts far away but anchored by the sight of his husband at rest.

He stays where he is, his hand lingering on John, his thumb idly brushing over the fabric of the blanket. The quiet of the room settles over him like a heavy quilt, but he doesn’t move—not yet. He knows better than to leave, even for a moment. John’s restless sleep has a habit of pulling him back into old battles, his body tensing, his breaths coming shallow and quick as if he’s still out there in the cold, fighting ghosts.

It’s not long before John stirs, his brow furrowing as a low, involuntary sound escapes him. Nik leans forward, his voice gentle. “Easy, lyubov’ moya,” He murmurs, the Russian slipping from his tongue effortlessly. “You’re safe.”

John’s breathing evens out again at the sound of Nik’s voice, and Nik exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It’s always like this—an unspoken battle fought in the quiet moments, one where Nik’s only weapon is his steady presence. He wonders if John knows how much he gives away in these unguarded moments, how much of his strength is tied to trust.

Nik shifts slightly, reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand. He tilts it toward John, pressing the rim lightly against his lips. “Drink,” he coaxes softly. “You’ll feel better.”

John groans but doesn’t resist, taking a few sips before sinking back into the pillows. His eyes crack open, barely focused, but there’s something there—a flicker of gratitude, of recognition. “Nik . . .”

“Shh,” Nik interrupts, placing the glass back on the nightstand. “Don’t talk. Just rest.”

But John’s lips twitch in that stubborn way they always do. “Didn’t think I’d . . . need you like this,” He admits, his voice raspy. “Thought I was the strong one.”

Nik snorts, shaking his head. “You’re strong, John,” He says, his voice firm but kind. “But even the strongest men need someone to hold them up. ‘S what I’m here for.”

John doesn’t respond right away, his eyes slipping closed again. For a moment, Nik thinks he’s drifted off, but then a quiet, almost imperceptible whisper reaches his ears: “Love you.”

Nik’s throat tightens, and he doesn’t bother hiding the soft smile that spreads across his face. “I know,” He whispers back, his hand returning to rest gently on John’s. “I love you too.”

And as the night deepens, Nik stays right there, a sentinel by John’s side, ensuring that the past remains where it belongs—far away, outside the walls of their shared sanctuary.

The hours stretch long, but Nik doesn’t mind. His body is accustomed to waiting, to watching, to guarding something—or someone—he holds dear. The dim light of the bedside lamp casts soft shadows across the room, illuminating the lines of John’s face, softened now by sleep. His breathing is slow and even, a far cry from the earlier ragged coughs that had racked his chest.

Hours pass, Nik shifted from his seated place an hour or two ago to lay beside his sickly husband, not caring if he’d catch his fever.

He shifts slightly, careful not to disturb his partner sleeping soundly beside him, and lets his mind wander. The weight of their shared history sits with him, not heavy, but present—like an old friend who’s overstayed their welcome. Siberia, Afghanistan, countless other places that have carved lines into their skin and etched stories into their souls.

He glances at John again. There’s something grounding about seeing him like this—vulnerable, unguarded, human. It’s a stark contrast to the commanding figure Nik first met all those years ago, barking orders with a cigar hanging lazily from his lips. Back then, John Price had seemed untouchable, invincible.

But here, now, he’s just John.

Nik’s lips twitch at the memory. He reaches for the blanket and pulls it up higher over John’s chest. “You’ve always been a pain in my ass, you know that?” He mutters quietly, not expecting an answer.

But a low, gravelly voice responds, startling him. “You love it.”

Nik jerks back slightly, leaning back on his elbow to see John’s face. “Thought you were asleep.”

John cracks one eye open, a smirk pulling at his lips despite the pallor in his face. “Hard to sleep with you muttering to yourself over there.”

Nik huffs, leaning back into the bed. “Go back to sleep, idiot. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

John’s smirk softens into something more genuine, his gaze holding Nik’s for a moment longer than usual. “I mean it, love,” He says, his voice quieter now, serious. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Nik swallows hard, the words settling into a place he doesn’t often let himself acknowledge. “Good thing you don’t have to find out,” He replies, his tone gruff but warm.

John hums in agreement, his eyelids already growing heavy again. “Stay,” He murmurs, the single word holding more weight than it has any right to.

“Always,” Nik says softly, watching as John drifts back into sleep.

The night stretches on, but Nik stays where he is, unwavering. Whatever battles John fights in his dreams, whatever demons haunt him, Nik will be there—his silent promise, unbroken.

©miwsolovely do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms . likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3

[ineedpaigebuckets]

YES WE WANT THE LONG ONE

bad game?

warnings: angst (tiny bit), smut, overstimulation, USC GAME MENTION

an: very sorry for bringing up this traumatic event🙏please forgive me. i've never wrote smut before so like that too. also i was gonna make it longer but y'all were BEGGING so here!

------------------------------------------------------

azzi is sitting in her bed cuddled up with her brand new book like the princess she is. the door of the apartment dorm slams

shut as an angry blonde walks through. paige had insisted on going for a drive after their loss to usc.

"paige!" azzi calls out from her bed as paige walks in sitting in azzis desk chair with a huff.

"fucking bullshit. shoulda won. played like shit the first half. the fuck is wrong with us, with me this year az." paige goes on and on her anger becoming more and more noticeable with each word. azzi puts her book down and stares her in the eye.

"paige you gotta stop. you're too hard on yourself." paige just groans and rolls her eyes at her girlfriends words.

"i don't need you to fucking take care of me." she grits through her teeth causing azzi to be taken aback by her sudden wrath.

"baby." she whispers softly causing paige's gaze to soften. "c'mere imma cheer you up mama." this causes the blonde to grin as she practically falls on azzis body peppering kisses all over her face and neck.

"m'sorry ma, i love when you take care of me." she whispers making azzi smile and let paige take control. it was usually azzi in control but in times like these, paige needed to go full pussy eater mode.

"s'okay." azzi whispers, and now that paige knows she's not mad, she's full

menace.

"good." a sly grin spreads across her face as her knee digs into azzis clothed core. she sucks in a shaky breath before pulling paige's shirt latching their lips together. the kiss was harsh but still sweet. teeth clashing and tongues fighting but still a soft edge because paige always had a soft spot for her precious princess. she moved her thigh against azzi before she hears a soft moan escape the younger girls lips causing her back to arch off the bed.

"i gotchu princess." paige smirks as she pulls azzis shorts down with her panties.

"fuck p." azzi whispers as paige's head dips down to her bellybutton piercing sucking the skin around it leaving small bite marks.

"so fuckin sexy." she mumbles before she drags her fingers against her folds. already soaking for her. her lips attack azzis neck as she's turned into a moaning mess as paige's two fingers slip into her curling right into the spot she loves. her thumb rubbing her clit in just the right way. paige wasn't planning on dragging this one out. she had other ideas.

"p-paige y- too fast- i- i cant hold it." azzi hiccups past her moans as she's already squeezing her legs around paige's hand which has a big cocky grin spreading across paige's face.

"so soon mama? you sure you can't wait." she gives her a small pout as she fucks into giving her no mercy. azzis body shakes as she desperately tries to wait for paige to let her come apart.

"s'okay baby i've gotchu. come on let go for me." paige doesn't even finish her sentence before azzis clenching around her and gushing on her fingers but of course paige isnt done yet. she laps at her glistening skin and presses her mouth to her sensitive swollen clit.

"p- cant." azzi mumbles. but she knows it's no use. when paige even thinks about eating pussy you cant get the thought outta her head.

"nah, gotta gimmie this one i know you can." she whispers into her causing azzi to shake. her tongue dips into her as azzi practically screams a tear dropping from her face and her hand in her mouth trying to stop her from screaming. paige pushes down on her lower stomach which makes azzis band snap without her even knowing and soon enough paige's mouth is dripping.

"shit baby. knew you still had it in you." paige hadn't seen her do that in quite some time. she climbs up azzis fucked out frame and kisses her temple.

"one more for me?" she asks her breath hot against azzis sweaty skin.

"you've gotta be kidding me." azzi groans still panting from the last two.

"c'mon that was so sexy az. just one more

please. know you can. please mama." paige's soft pleas do nothing but make azzi give in.

"be-" before she can finish her sentence paige's mouth is on her again. this time softer less urgent.

"imma be gentle baby. don't worry." she whispers as she slides two fingers into her still dripping folds.

"i gotchu. just wanna get you right." she whispers against her clip which makes azzi let out borderline phonographic sounds.

"be quiet for me m'kay." paige whispers. at this point she's completely soaked through her boxers but she doesn't even care tonight's about her princess. azzi tried to keep quiet but the small whimpers aren't helping. she's about to let out a loud scream when paige's fingers push deeper but she quickly latches her mouth onto azzis swallowing the loud sounds.

"paige-" azzi starts but paige knows. she always knows.

"you got it ma. come on let go." and with that paige leans down so azzi an let go, on her face once again. this time paige is grabbing azzis shorts and slipping them back on her limp body.

"clean your face you goof." azzi mumbles as paige leans down to kiss her still covered with azzis juices. but of course she can't resist her beautiful girlfriend and pecks her lips but paige's tongue dives into azzis mouth letting her taste herself. which slips a moan out of her. paige pushes off her bed and goes to clean up and when she comes back she sits at the edge of the bed turning on the xbox azzi had in her room just for paige and loaded up fortnite.

"paige you've gotta be fucking joking." azzis mouth drops as paige scrambles back to the headboard controller in hand.

"what's wrong mama. c'mere." she opens her arms and azzi curls into her chest. "cant just fuckin give your girlfriend mind blowing head then turn on the xbox." she groans but secretly loves just being able to cuddle into paige's chest as she plays her game.

"you love it." she grins. she wasn't wrong. azzi did love it. but most of all azzi loved paige.

[seokmn]

FAILURE

pairing: dokyeom x gn!reader

wc: 0.6k words

lua’s note: maybe this fic is a bit specific because its kinda a vent. i wanted to get this out of my chest somehow and decided to post it because maybe there’s someone who’s going through the same thing as me and need to read these words. essa vai pros que so fizeram o enem e vestibulares de faculdades publicas e nao passaram pra segunda fase deles e agora precisam esperar a nota do enem pra meter no sisu ou prouni 😛

another instagram story you viewed, another text with those three cursed words you read and another ‘congratulations, lets celebrate it!’ you had to write as a reply for that text. you sighed, placed your phone on your lap and hid your face with your hands.

the only thing that comes to your mind right now is the word failure. you failed and now you have to watch other people celebrate their accomplishments.

seokmin heard your sigh and turned around to look at you, taking sight of your disappointed figure. he stopped cooking, dropping the knife and washing his hands before sitting down next to you on the couch. his hand rested on your thigh, a way to try to comfort you without words being said. he already had an idea about why were you like that. “another one?”

you hummed and stopped hiding your face. you looked at him with a small smile and nodded. “another one,” you looked down and took his hand before looking back at him, trying to sound and look okay. “another friend of mine was accepted at the university she wanted.”

seokmin let out a quiet sigh and rubbed his thumb against the back of your hand. he didnt say anything, already knowing you’d keep venting about it to him. “im happy for her, i really am. but i cant help but ask myself: is this it? am i going to stay behind while all my friends will go to college and live their lives? am i too dumb to go to college?” your lips began to tremble and your voice was cracking, “and i hate myself for feeling this way, i hate to compare my life to theirs and not being able to be happy for them without feeling miserable about my situation. they studied a lot for this and they deserve it, but i studied as well. is it something wrong with me?”

seokmin frowned and placed your head against his chest. “theres nothing wrong with you,” he began to caress your head, trying to soothe you. “you said yourself that this year took a toll on you because of studies, trying to be sure about your future and trying to find an university that youd like the thought of studying there. do your things in your own pace. you not being accepted in any university until now doesnt mean youre a failure, you cant be accepted in any university yet because you gotta wait your results of the national exam come out.”

he cupped your cheeks and pulled you away from his chest so you could look at each others eyes. “listen to me, you are not a failure, okay? you just graduated from high school, youre so young and you have so much things to do. take your own time, that doesnt mean youre staying behind. that means you’re building your own path.”

you nodded as he brushed your tears away with his thumb. listening to his words was like being hugged by your mother after spending a whole day away from her when you were a little kid, was like being kissed by the wind while watching the sunset at the beach with a loved one.

seokmin always knew how to comfort you, how to make you realize youre not being fair with yourself and that you should be way kinder with yourself because you are loved and are capable of doing anything.

“dont forget about that,” he kissed your forehead and stood up, looking at you with love in his eyes and that comfy smile that no one else but him could smile like that. “now help me to cook. we’re going to eat a delicious meal and then spend the rest of the day watching your favorite sitcom”

[daryltwdixon]

If I Could Give You the Moon, I'd Give You the Moon

I'm obsessed with this angst I've created. Part II of Know It's For the Better

Based on Phoebe Bridgers' Moon Song

Daryl stumbles slightly as you guide him along the quiet streets, his arm draped heavily over your shoulders. He’s drunk—more than you’ve ever seen him—and his weight shifts unpredictably as he leans too far to one side, forcing you to readjust.

“Y’don’t gotta hold me like I’m some old man,” he slurs, his words tumbling together in a low drawl. “Still got my legs, ya know.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the pavement you almost kissed back there,” you reply, your tone light but strained as you try to keep him steady.

He barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, then mutters, “Ain’t my fault these damn streets’re crooked.”

“They’re not,” you say, rolling your eyes even though he can’t see it.

He tilts his head toward you, squinting like he’s trying to focus, and grins—a real, lopsided grin that you’re not used to seeing. It’s different from his usual smirks, less guarded, and it makes your chest tighten.

“Y’look real nice tonight,” he says, his voice softer, slower. The words hang between you, catching you off guard, but before you can say anything, he adds, “Too nice t’be draggin’ my sorry ass home.”

"Weren't you the one who offered to walk me home? Now I'm carrying your 'sorry ass'," you tease, your tone light as you try to deflect from the compliment. You’re not sure if he realizes what he just said—the slip, the way he noticed how you looked.

Or at least, the first time he's ever said anything about it.

The thought makes your heart launch into your throat.

You’ve seen Daryl in all kinds of states—angry, wounded, stone-cold sober—but this version of him, loose and unguarded, is something else entirely. His walls are gone, every word spilling out without hesitation, and you can’t help but let yourself take it in, selfishly cataloging every soft laugh, every crooked grin.

When you reach your porch, he steps back, swaying a little as his arm falls from your shoulders. His hands fumble at his sides, like he’s not sure what to do with them. Then his eyes land on yours, and for a moment, the playful grin fades.

“Don't gotta always take care’a me,” he murmurs, his voice so low you almost miss it.

You shake your head, offering a small smile you don’t really feel. “You already do the same for me."

He doesn’t argue, doesn’t speak. Just stares at you like you’ve said something he doesn’t know how to answer.

And then he steps closer.

His hands, rough and callused, come up to your face, cradling you with a fragile kind of care, like he’s holding water in his palms. Like he’s afraid that if he grips too tightly, you’ll slip through his fingers, yet if he lets go, he’ll lose you entirely. Every touch feels suspended, precarious, as if the moment itself might shatter if he doesn’t get it exactly right.

“You’re good,” he says suddenly, like it’s something he’s been holding onto for too long, his thumb brushing your cheekbone, “Too good.”

There's no doubt he can feel your heart thumping against your neck, the pounding having to be pushing up against his fingers where they brush the soft skin under your jaw.

"Know I shouldn't--know it's for the better that I stay far away from ya," he whispers, like he's talking more to himself as his eyes continue to search your face, "But I can't stop thinkin' of...thinkin' what it would be like..."

“Daryl—”

Then, his lips are on yours in an instant—desperate, reverent in the way they push against yours.

For a second, you’re frozen, your mind spinning too fast to make your body respond. You want to—God, you want to—but the shock keeps you locked in place. His lips are hot and firm against yours, moving with a kind of unpracticed urgency that steals your breath.

The kiss is so Daryl, everything you expected and somehow more. Clumsy, a little haphazard, but so earnest, so real, so alive. You’d never believed the romance novels you’d devoured about kisses that made sparks fly, but this… this proved them right all along. Electricity seemed to crackle between you, only for you to realize it was you humming, the vibrations of your approval thrumming softly through your joined mouths.

When his lips parted and his tongue tentatively brushed against yours, your body finally remembered how to move. Your hands slid up, grasping the solid muscle of his arms, and his whole frame shuddered under your touch.

And then he froze.

His breath hitched, his body stiffening as if something had just yanked him back to sobering reality. In an instant, he pulled away, his hands falling to his sides like they didn’t know what to do anymore.

His breath, warm and uneven, carried the faint scent of whiskey, brushing against your flushed face as his eyes met yours. Wide and uncertain, they searched your expression like he was trying to figure out what he’d just done.

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice rough and low. He cleared his throat, stepping back quickly, the distance between you feeling sharper than it should. “Night.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you standing there, lips tingling, your heart racing, and no words to fill the space he’d left behind.

The next day, you find him on the porch, sitting on the edge with his crossbow resting against his knee. He’s fidgeting with a bolt, turning it over in his hands like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

When he hears your footsteps, he glances up briefly, his expression unreadable, before quickly looking back down. “Mornin’,” he mutters, his voice low.

“Morning,” you reply, stepping closer. You hesitate before sitting beside him, keeping some space between you.

The silence between you stretches for a moment, the sounds of birds in the distance filling the quiet. You try to think of what to say, but everything feels too uncertain. Like you're not sure if you should just say it outright or wait for him.

You should ask him.

The words hover in your throat, right there, but they refuse to come out. Did he remember the kiss? Did he remember the way his lips pressed against yours, clumsy but so full of something it made your chest ache? Did he remember what he whispered, his voice rough but so sure of his feelings when he confessed his unrelenting thoughts of you?

The memory burns in your chest, every word, every touch of his fingers and taste of his lips is seared into your mind. You need to know if it meant something—or if it was just the whiskey.

He breaks the silence first, letting out a short, almost nervous laugh. “Man, I was… somethin’ else last night, huh?”

“Do you remember much of it?” you ask softly, your heart picking up its pace.

You stare at him, searching his face for something—anything—that might tell you he’s lying. That he does remember. That those words weren’t just a drunken slip. But his expression is unreadable, his focus locked on the crossbow like it’s the only thing in the world.

Your throat feels tight, your hands curling into fists in your lap. “Daryl…” You pause, the words catching before they can escape. You want to ask him about the kiss, about what he said. But the fear of what he might say—or worse, what he won’t—roots you in place.

“If I, uh…” he starts, his voice softer now, “if I said or did somethin’ dumb… didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

Your breath catches, and you nod quickly, forcing a brittle smile. “Right, course."

And just like that, the warmth of the sun from the morning sky feels as cold as ice, seeping into your skin and draining the last bit of life from you.

You stand abruptly, brushing your palms against your thighs to give your hands something to do. “I should get going,” you say, keeping your tone light even though your heart is still pounding.

Daryl finally looks up at you, his eyes catching yours for a brief, fleeting moment. There’s something there—uncertainty, regret, maybe even a flicker of longing—but it’s gone too quickly to be sure.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low and rough. “See ya.”

You hesitate, your feet rooted to the porch even as your body screams at you to leave. The words are still there, trembling on the edge of your tongue—Did you mean it?—but you swallow them down, just like you always do.

Turning away, you step inside, letting the screen door close softly behind you. As soon as you’re out of sight, you press your back against the wall, closing your eyes as the memory of last night washes over you again.

His words replay in your mind, over and over, as if they’re branded into you. You clutch the hem of your shirt, willing yourself not to cry, even as the ache in your chest spreads like wildfire.

Because as much as you want to believe he meant it, his silence today feels like an answer.

And yet, you know you’d still give him anything—everything. If he asked, if he even hinted that he wanted it, you’d tear down the moon and hand it to him without a second thought.

But he doesn’t ask. And so you don’t offer.

[narcoleptika]

Dance with me.

Daryl Dixon x Reader -Fluff

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You hum to a song you've heard many times while sewing a hole up in Daryl's jeans, the sound of rain lightly thumping on the outside of your house giving the moment that extra bit of comfort. You hear shuffling coming from the bedroom and softly smile to yourself, wishing you could see that face he makes when he wakes up and locks eyes with you. You hear the creak of the door then a yawn, “You up already?” You nod and smile, “I was going to do my yard work but..” you gesture to the rainy window, “Thought I'd save it for later. When I won't get covered in rain and mud. I decided to patch up your jeans for now.” He lightly huffs. You giggle, “What?” He walks behind you and loosely wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“You don't gotta do that for me.” You shrug, “I want to, and with how you usually come back from runs they could use the extra support before they get totally ruined..” he doesn't really respond, he just gently squeezed you, then buries his face in your neck, you slightly tilt your head so he has more room, and you run your fingers through his hair. “You know what, I don't think I've ever seen you dance.” He lifts his head slightly, “What?” You hum softly, “The music reminds me of old timey couples dancing, then I realized I don't think I've ever seen you dance.” He loosens his hold on you. “Y’wanna see me dance?” you nod, finished sewing up the hole. “I’d like that, so..will you dance with me?” He starts to protest but when he sees your hopeful smile he can't refuse.

“Alright. Sure.” You excitedly kiss him and stand up holding out your hands. “Full disclosure..I don't know how to dance.” He chuckles, “Nah, I don't either.” The two of you laugh and give it a go, while it's clumsy and you step on him twice, eventually you get down what resembles a peaceful dance. He holds you close, his hands comfortably resting on your waist, and your arms loosely wrapped around his neck as you sway side to side. “Now all I need to see next is you dancing to something not classical..like pop or something!” He huffs, “Nah, no way.” You burst out laughing and he kisses you sweetly, pulling back slightly, your foreheads together, eyes locked together.

“I love you.” He says softly, you never will get over how sweet those words sound coming from a by all appearances, a rugged guy like him. Though you never really saw him the way some people usually did. “I love you too, thank you for dancing with me..” you hold him tightly and hold his hands. “But seriously, I need to see you dance to something like hip hop.” You whisper, he kisses your forehead, “Still, nah.” you sigh, “Worth a try.~” You two sit at the table and start discussing the day's plans as the rain starts to slow.

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Writer's notes: I am so sorry I dropped off the face of the earth for like over a month or something, Trapped pt. 2 is being written right now, I hope this short sweetness is enough to hold y'all over till later today! I will be posting a lot more as I have gotten my mood and motivation back up. Thank you for reading, have a good day or night. I hope you all had happy holidays. :)

[meowshroom1230]

Y’all ever wonder why it’s called the amazing digital circus when no one in the amazing digital circus is from a circus? Well so did I… at 1 am so i’m going to do my best to make sense of my late night ramblings:

Caine- Getting the obvious out of the way he’s the ringleader. Not much more to explain here, keeps the group together, etc.

Kinger- He would be the beast master. I made a point about gloinks in my ramblings but everyone interacted with them in the pilot. My real explanation is just the entirety of episode 3. He was the only one who could calm his wife, he knew how to handle the creature that attacked him and Pomni, and he keep Pomni safe when they were walking through an area infested with demon like creatures. “tHoSe ArEn’T rEaL aNiMaLs!” HIS CONNECTION WITH BUGS THEN. He has an undeniable attachment to bugs and while he might not be taming them I’m sure he could if he wanted to

Gangle- She’s the tightrope walker. She is constantly teetering between being too much and not enough often putting herself at risk often. Depending how you saw the truck scene (either a as a rep for su!c!dal thoughts or just a funny truck-kun reference, goose said those scene was up for interpretation), she could also be teetering the line between life and abstraction. Gangle is in some kind of danger and it is up to her to save herself, until she makes it to the other side.

Ragatha- Now this one you gotta hear me out on, but she is the bearded woman. LISTEN, some interpretations of a beard that aren’t just facial hair are linked to covering up something. A beard in the US can be someone who completes a transaction to cover someone else’s identity. A beard can also be a person who pretends to be in a romantic relationship with a person who they are not attracted to to cover for their sexuality. Using these terms of ‘beard’ as an example I concluded that Ragatha’s ‘beard’ is a cover up for her true feelings. Something’s off about her, and we got glimpses of that in episode 4. She’s not as happy and friendly as she’s made out to be. Now I don’t think it’s something dramatic like she’s evil or a villain, but she’s hiding something and she’s ashamed of it. Bearded women in history were often very ashamed of their beards and some thought the circus was their only way of having some value. Maybe Ragatha finds value in making people happy? Maybe that’s what her ai was programmed to do… but that’s a theory for another time :)

Pomni- Ok after a long one I felt another easy one was in place. Pomni is the clown. Jesters and clowns are often grouped together… but it’s also in how she’s treated. She’s often the butt of physical comedy jokes, she often finds herself in pain because of the circumstances surrounding her. I don’t think she’s trying to be funny but because of the situation she’s in she’s forced to be the clown of the circus. She also keeps everyone ‘entertained’. She’s prevented at least one, if not 2 people from abstracting. I believe that her presence does more than she realizes. Also when first joining the circus i guess who she replaced…

Jax- Now here’s where my ideas are mostly based on vibes and headcanons, so i understand if these are taking more with a grain of salt. Jax is the contortionist. A contortionist isn’t someone you’d think would be in a circus at first glance, i mean they’re just a regular person right? Nothing special about them- JESUS CHRIST WHY ARE YOU BENT LIKE THAT. Now Jax isn’t bending his body into weird shapes… but i think his emotions are. There’s something beneath Jax’s surface of annoying attitude. We see hints of emotion break in only spans of seconds. I can count on one hand the number of seconds we’ve seen a genuine emotion from Jax. I think he’s forcing himself to bend to what others think he should be. People think he’s an asshole? Well then he has to be that way 24/7 or else… something. That’s the only part I haven’t figured out yet. Is he scared of rejection? of vulnerability? caring about someone? That’s the only thing I can’t figure out about him. So just in case I’m wrong about this Im giving him a secondary option… the acrobat. He’s still preforming but he isn’t hiding some tbh in him this version. He’s doing this for himself because either way he gets the attention that he wants. The acrobat is more focused on gaining and keeping attention then hiding anything about himself.

Zooble- Another loose one… I’m pretty sure we’ve had no more than 20 lines from them an episode. Zooble is the oracle. They seem to know so much about the circus despite not going on many adventures. They stay in one place more often than not. They tell you the truth whether or not you like it. They’ve been around for a while and will probably be there for a long time. I don’t know how Zooble knows what they know but they’re quite sure about it. They also stay strong to the ideas that they’ve figured out and refuse to change their mind. Caine is an excellent example, they seem assume things about Caine that most of the members wouldn’t even think of, yet Zooble is very certain in themselves. But because this one is also loose I’m also giving them a secondary, as the contortionist. If it isn’t Jax then it’s definitely Zooble… but for different reasons. Zooble clearly has issues with how they look and often want to change themselves, contorting in every way possible to just find something that’s comfortable. Contortionists suffer pain later in life due to their abilities, forcing them to keep moving their bodies in odd positions just to be comfortable. Zooble could be the same way but in a much more literal sense, forcing to have to try more parts just to find something that works for them.

Here’s the ramblings of anyone else wants to make sense of them lol

[sequs-art-box]

Sequ, I felt like you're best placed to answer me for this : how do I draw Anger? He's the fourth emotion I gotta draw for my au, but honestly, I'm not very good at drawing square characters, and *I NEED TO DO THE SHORT KING JUSTICE!* Any tips? ^^

You came to the right place! I'll give you every tip I have in drawing Anger.

Now, the first thing you should absolutely do is study him- by that, I mean look at how he moves in the films, video games, etc. Another important thing is to not be afraid to use reference. I'm an animation student, and my professors always ALWAYS recommend reference for WHATEVER you're drawing. Its not cheating, I promise.

One thing I quickly learned when drawing Anger is that he is NOT A RIGID CUBE. He has more of a marshmallow-like structure(?) To him. From an animation standpoint, he isn't stiff. Just like the rest of the emotions, he has squash and stretch qualities like the images below.

A big reason Anger is hard to draw, at least to me, is his weird anatomy. This dude has no neck, he's a cube with short ass arms and legs- a challenge even for the animators who worked on him! That makes it difficult to draw/animate him in certain poses, which means you gotta break some rules.

The hard truth is, if you want to get REALLY good at drawing any character, you have draw them as often as possible. I've been drawing Anger for the past TWO YEARS. There are no shortcuts to this.

Enough rambling, let's draw him now. Please keep in mind that this is my artstyle, and everyone's drawing process is unique- give yourself some time, and I'm sure you'll get it.

For the sake of simplicity, let's draw him in a casual, standing pose.

My first step is to figure out where he is looking. I try to avoid front view perspectives since they're a bit boring- so I'll go with a 3/4 view.

I start- as always with his head. Its a simple, slightly curved square shape.

I then draw the torso, which is the most important part of his body since every limb attaches from this part. Keep his uneven proportions in mind.

After that comes his arms and hands. I use this image form the IO art book to figure out his hands.

His hands are exactly like regular hands, just smaller and chubbier (heh).

I draw the arms first so I can correctly position his legs. Make sure they're not too long.

(Had to put these last 3 steps in one file, damn you tumblr image limit!)

After adding the legs, I detail his head, starting with his eyebrows. From there, I add the eyes, mouth, and finish with his outfit.

I hope my explanations were helpful! If you have any more questions, don't be afraid to send another ask/dm me, I'd be very happy to help ❤️

[pukanavis]

Kiroku Kinugawa SSR "Cosplaying With Love" Track 2

Location: Living Room

Sakujiro: Now then, may everyone who would like to be Shota Kashii, the protagonist, please raise their hand! Come now, the early bird gets the worm, as they say.

Akuta: You’ve gotta be mega overzealous to pull off Shota, so Teach has to be the perfect pick, right?

Momiji: Huh!?

Setting aside the overzealous part, but…

Isn’t Shota a male character? It might be weird if I did him.

Sakujiro: Chief, do not place a limit on your cosplay possibilites.

Ushio: There’s no rule that says girls can’t cosplay guys. Heaps of girls do it, in fact.

Sakujiro: Anyone is able to become whatever they wish, and there is no one who can say otherwise.

Momiji: I see…there’s so much freedom in cosplay…!

Ushio: Alright, go ahead and do Shota’s signature pose and quote.

Momiji: His signature quote…uh….

[Option 1] : It has to be...

Momiji: I-it’s about…to get heated… …get ready? Sakujiro & Ushio: … Momiji: T-That was a bit embarrassing.

[Option 2] : What was it again?

Momiji: What was it again…? Kiroku: ! Here. Momiji: (Oh, Kiroku-kun flicked to a page I can copy…!) Uhm, it’s about to get heated… Get ready!

Sakujiro & Ushio: Rejected.

Momiji: I understand!

Sakujiro: It simply won't suffice. You’re awkwardness cannot be overlooked.

Ushio: Are you even taking this seriously…?

Kiroku: Brutal…

Akuta: I think meeker protags have their place too~.

Muneuji: Now then…it would make sense to do Shota’s rival, Reito, next. Who would like to be him?

Kiroku: I think…Nanamegi…looks like him…

Momiji: Oh, I can definitely see it!

Ushio: Nope nope nope. Absolutely not.

Nanaki: Hmm, I’m not sure.

Kiroku: You’d…say his quotes well too.

Nanaki: “Bon appétit” ?

Ushio: Bgh—

Akuta: Woah!

Momiji: You nailed it! 

Kiroku: It’s…just like Reito.

Sakujiro: What is your verdict, Kurama-kun?

Ushio: Gh…gah…urgg…

Muneuji: U~chan, why’re you crouching on the floor?

Ushio: I-It’s barely passable…it doesn't compare at all to the original though!

Nanaki: I made the cut? I expected you to have more criticism to throw at me.

Ushio: Huff, huff…hhh….

Kiroku: (Why did he start gasping for breath…?)

Momiji: Who else is there… Oh, Ouji-kun! The pudding one!

Ushio: Ugh…all of you are rejected! Every one of you would mischaracterize him!

Akuta: Hmm, I think I’ll give that Sayama guy a go then. He seems like he knows his stuff, and he makes for an awesome support character!

Muneuji: In that case, I’ll be Ukawa, the one beside him. Who do you have your eye on, U~chan?

Ushio: …I’m going to be Tsukasa Kaido, the guy hosting the Patissier Battle. That lucky guy gets to watch the students at Framboise grow stronger in real time.

Nanaki: Looks like we’ve all gone with side characters. Shouldn’t Ushio be the main character?

Kiroku: He’s…the most particular one here…

Sakujiro: Now then, let your heart and soul become one with the character—Un, deux, trois.

Akuta & Ushio & Muneuji: *pose*

Momiji: Where's that pose from?

Ushio: It’s from this panel.

Nanaki: You can barely see him…

Sakujiro: The touch of a dedicated fan, I see. An absolutely impeccable recreation! Now then, Kinugawa-kun is all who remains.

Kiroku: Huh…!? But…I was just…going to draw…

Momiji: Why don't you try Hinomiya, the new character?

Ushio: Hmm, that’s not a bad idea.

Muneuji: You both share quiet and mysterious qualities.

Akuta: You should give it a go!

Kiroku: ah….

(But…Kurama and Karigane-sensei said that cosplay is an art form too.)

(I might not be able to do it…)

…

“I’ll show your tongue…the destruction of thawing ice.”

Everyone: !!

Akuta: CUUUUT!! We have a winner!

Nanaki: That’s the same sharp gaze Hinomiya has when he’s showing off his frozen dessert expertise…!

Muneuji: You really brought the character to life.

Ushio: …Not bad, Buddha Statue.

Kiroku: …!

Momiji: Ooh…if you got Ushio-kun’s approval, then that seals the deal.

Kiroku: I-I wasn’t…that good…

Sakujiro: It would be an absolute joy to see you try to cosplay at Comipara, Kinugawa-kun.

I can already picture all the photographers swarming to you!

Kiroku: Pho…tographers…?

Ushio: Yeah, people are going to want your picture.

Kiroku: Wh…strangers are going to…photograph me…?

Sakujiro: Yes. Beneath the blue sky, like a group of mages surrounding a summoning circle, they’ll form a ring around you as an incessant rain of camera flashes swallows your vision…

Momiji: That sounds more like a ritual…

Kiroku: I-I’d rather not…

Back

[books-are-escapes]

one more sleep - j. s.

word count: 936

hiiiii! merry christmas!! ❤️ i heard this song and it’s on my own christmas playlist so i just knew i had to make a story about jake!! ☺️

❤️🎄❤️🎄❤️🎄

“my love, my honey, my darling, i miss you so much!” you spoke to the screen, your boyfriend on the other side. “i miss you too my love. at least it’s only five more days until i can hold you.” your body got warm, remembering the last time you hugged jake, that was six months ago. it’s almost christmas, december 20th to be specific.

you could barely contain yourself, the days dragged on and you didn’t know what to do with all this time to wait on him. “i’ve gotta get going baby. i’ll be with you so soon. i love you my darling.” “i love you just as much jake, bye.” your voice was quiet. “bye honey.” he blew you a kiss and the call cut off. your eyes welled up. it should be easy to say goodbye, he’s coming home in less than a week, but you just miss him terribly. your birthday, thanksgiving, finals, christmas activities… all without him. it was awful.

i’ve got five more nights until you're next to me, four more days of being lonely, three more wishes, i can barely breathe, if i can make it to christmas eve, then it's one more sleep

your house was decorated, candles were lit, the fire place was blazing, the christmas lights on the tree, along with a couple of lamps, dimly lit the space, the presents you got for jake and yourself were wrapped and set under the tree. the mood was right. it was christmas eve and you were snuggled up in a sweatshirt of jake’s, under a christmas blanket, with a christmas mug containing hot chocolate. you had some cookies, pretzels and other snacks for your christmas movie marathon.

you weren’t sure you wanted to sleep, but you knew you needed to so you could be well rested to spend every minute with jake the moment he stepped through the door. so after a biltmore christmas ended, you turned off all the lights, except your tree, turned off the fire place and made sure your house was locked before you went upstairs to your room. your heart was pounding. he’d be home so soon and you wanted to be awake when he arrived.

you woke, a bright smile on your face. you took down the last note from your wall of sticky notes that jake left to count down until he returned. you turned on christmas music and got all dolled up for your lover’s return. you curled your hair, did some gentle makeup, put on your holiday sweatshirt and socks with leggings to keep it comfy.

you knew jake would be home in a little bit so you waited to eat until he got back, settling on a cup of coffee, obviously with peppermint mocha creamer. cleaning somehow calmed you down, so you fluffed pillows, dusted spaces, made sure the dishes were done and put away to ease your racing heart.

after a few hours, the house was cleaned, christmas jazz played softly in the background, your christmas candle was lit. there was a gentle knock at the door. it had to be…

you squealed before rushing to the door, unlocking it and throwing it open. there he stood, handsome as ever. his hair was a little messy from the wintery breeze, his backpack hung on one shoulder and his duffel bag sat at his feet. “hi honey.” he said. his voice was even sweeter in person. you couldn’t contain your smile.

there was a moment of you drinking him in, him doing the same to you. you squeaked again, doing a couple happy jumps before leaping into his arms. he held you tight. you cried into his shoulder, so relieved to be able to hold him and feel him and smell him again. “i’ve missed you so much!” you cried. “i missed you more my love.” he wouldn’t let you go and you weren’t letting him go either.

“merry christmas.” he set down his backpack to give you a full hug. your heart was full and so was his. he pulled back a little and touched his nose to yours. your eyes fluttered closed, the cold air being a stark reminder that this wasn’t a dream. he was home to you again.

his lips gently touched yours, almost asking for permission. they were warm compared to the icy prickle on your cheeks. you relished this kiss, you missed his kiss while he was gone. it was what you looked forward to the most upon his return. your arms wrapped around his neck and his locked around your waist. you couldn’t get enough, you kept pulling each other as close as you could. he gently let go, smiling as he rested his forehead on yours. “merry christmas honey.” you responded.

he picked his backpack up on his shoulder, stooped down to pick up his duffel bag and scooped you up in the process, holding you tightly to him to finally get inside. it made you laugh while he dropped his bags right inside the door.

he straightened, one arm wrapped around you while you rested one on his stomach. he admired your home with a bright smile. “aw honey, you decorated!” he cooed. “well i had to do something to try and keep my mind off of you not being here.”

he squatted down to wrap his arms around you, standing up again so you were off the ground, “all for me?” you laughed, holding his face in your hands, “it’s always for you my darling.” “awww, you’re the best.” he grinned before kissing you tenderly once more.

a/n: i hope y’all had a lovely christmas time and i hope you loved this! i have a bradley one that i think i’ll post here in another day or two!! i’ve been so busy lately but i’ll try to get to posting more! love and snuggles!! ❤️🎄🎁

[awardenandacrow]

FANFIC SNIPPET 19

NOTE: for those of you who don’t know, my husband and I share an XBox and been th play Dragon Age. He has now finished his first playthrough (which is why I know things) and consistently was ahead of me in the story even though I started before him (I’m a SAHM of two kids under 4 — for another couple weeks anyway). He romanced Taash, so in his playthrough what was my commitment scene to Lucanis was Lucanis making dessert for Neve. I didn’t ✨know✨ at the time that that would be my commitment scene, and I was FRESH off the almost-kiss, and I was like oh man, if he makes Neve dessert now, Naimy is gonna ✨loooose it.✨ Anyway, I got Inner Demons (which he did not, because we made different decisions at The Choice), and then the commitment scene, and breathed a sigh of relief. Then I thought, BUT WHAT IF THO. And so we have this snippet, which I thoroughly enjoy, and hope you will too.

[Lucanis makes a special dessert to welcome Neve back to the Lighthouse, and Naimeryn maaaaay have some feelings about it…]

CW/TW: strong language

——————————————————————————

“Oh! And Harding says gooseberry pie is Neve’s favorite, so I made that for dessert.”

Naimeryn’s heart sank like a rock into the pit of her stomach.

“That’s so… thoughtful of you,” Naimeryn forced out a smile. Neve’s. Favorite. For dessert.

“I just want to make sure she knows she was missed while she was gone,” Lucanis looked a little sheepish. The same expression he’d had after picking the dress for her at the shop in Treviso.

“Right, right,” Naimeryn nodded. It was just dessert. That didn’t mean anything. But then… this was the first time he’d made a special dessert.

“Are you all right?” Lucanis asked her, frowning.

“I just…” Naimeryn felt suddenly as though the Fade were closing in around her. She’d upset him. He was being sweet, and she was being weird. And if he liked Neve… of course he liked Neve. There was very literally nothing *not* to like. “I, I just… remembered. I completely forgot something I have to get done. Tonight. Right now. Um. Dinner really does smell delicious. I hope everyone enjoys. I mean, I’m sure they will. Everyone loves your cooking. Especially me! Oh — not *especially* me, I just meant — I’m upset I’m going to have to… Miss it. Um. I’m sorry. I’ve gotta go.”

Naimeryn turned and hurried to the door, but hesitated as she reached it. It wasn’t official, but this was Neve’s welcome back dinner — or at least, that’s what Lucanis had created. She and Neve had a long way to go before their relationship was repeaired. Was she really going to skip out on Neve? Would Neve see it that way? Would she see it as just another let down?

Her mind conjured an image of Lucanis serving Neve *gooseberry pie* and how excited she would be, and him wearing an expression of pride and admiration. The two of them, making eyes at each other across the table. She balked. She couldn’t sit, straight faced, through that. She pulled the door open and headed back to the library.

“Dinner ready?” Harding called from her door as she was coming down the stairs.

“Almost,” Naimeryn said, forcing a smile. “It smells amazing.”

“Then where are you gong?” Harding wanted to know. “You’ve been sneaking to the kitchen for a little alone time with *him* before dinner for weeks.”

“I haven’t,” Naimeryn shook her head with a strangled attempt to keep the smile plastered on her face. “I just head there when I’m hungry and wait is all. I just have… missives and things to catch up on.”

“And those can’t wait until after dinner?” Harding laughed.

“No,” Naimeryn shook her head. “I’ll find something to eat once I finish up. Go enjoy though! See you later.”

…

Naimeryn woke with a start, a crink in her neck, and a missive stuck to her face. She sighed, pulling the paper away. She hadn’t *meant* to fall asleep. But then, she’d been tired a lot more lately. Maybe it was good for her.

Her stomach rumbled, and she remembered the smell of the dinner she’d skipped. She was starving. How long had it been, she wondered? Would it be safe to sneak back and see if there were any leftovers? Maybe Harding had saved her a plate.

She sighed again and unfolded herself from the floor, straightening the missives on the table before standing fully upright and stretching. She was stiff. She hadn’t even finished all the missive work. She sighed a third time. Maybe she should just crank out the last few first? But no, she was almost unbearably hungry. When had she eaten last? Breakfast? Had she eaten breakfast?

Naimeryn hesitated a few more minutes, contemplating if she could get away with *not* going back to the kitchen. But then, if she didn’t, she’d have to go somewhere to get something, and she suspected it was too late into the night for that. So long as everyone was asleep, it should be fine.

Lucanis didn’t sleep, though. Not really. Could she sneak in and out without having to face him?

She snorted at herself. She, Naimeryn, clumsy mess that she was, getting in and out of the kitchen without the assassin who lived there — the Demon of Vyrantium, no less — knowing she was there? Fat chance.

She could apologize again. And nonchalantly ask how dinner… and dessert… had gone. And if it turned out she was right…

Naimeryn swallowed thickly. Neve deserved him — someone reliable, and thoughtful, and strong, and sweet. Someone she could count on. She was far more deserving of that than…

Naimeryn cut off the thought before she could make herself cry again. She wouldn’t be able to face him if she was crying again, and she was so hungry.

Naimeryn didn’t bother putting her boots back on, padding quietly around the Lighthouse. It was quieter this way, anyway, and she didn’t want to wake Taash or Emmrich. She slipped out of the Library, thankful the doors were noiseless. Solas had certainly gotten that right.

Only Neve’s room and the kitchen seemed to be lit. So, everyone else was certainly asleep. Her stomach churned. Maybe he was with her. That would save her having to see him, but… she also didn’t want to think about it.

He deserved someone as pretty, and as smart, and passionate, and caring as Neve was. Not someone clumsy, and inexperienced, and who had no idea what she was doing and just got lucky sometimes.

Naimeryn almost turned and went back to her room, but her stomach growled more earnestly. She sucked in a steadying breath, and started across the courtyard. She’d expected the stones to be cold, but just like everything else here, the temperature was constant, and neither hot nor cold to the touch. Even though she was pretty sure most everyone was asleep, she found herself tiptoeing and moving quickly. Her heartbeat sounded far too loud in her ears. She took another deep breath, then opened the kitchen door just enough to squeeze through. As she’d hoped, the room was empty. She did her best to move soundlessly across the floor, and around the table.

Someone *had* left a plate for her, piled high with Lucanis’s pasta dish. A small plate was also next to it with a sliver of the pie.

Forgetting herself, Naimeryn sighed.

“Rook?”

*Fuck.*

“Yeah, it’s me,” she did her best to sound cheerful. “I’m sorry, I was trying to be quiet.”

She turned to him as he exited the pantry. He looked… worried?

“Did you get your work done?” He wanted to know, closing the distance between them to come stand uncertainly by the fire. She thought she heard Spite whisper something, but Lucanis’s lips didn’t move, and she didn’t quite catch it. Something in his expression changed for a moment, but it was gone so quickly she thought maybe the lack of sleep was affecting her more than she’d initially believed. Seeing *and* hearing things. That couldn’t be good.

“Almost,” she admitted sheepishly, “I kind of… fell asleep. I’ve got a couple more missives to reply to.”

“It’s good you took a break to eat,” he said gently, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.

“Yes, I’m starved,” she said, picking up the plate of pasta and leaving the pie, “I’m sorry, again, for not getting to have it fresh. Do I have you to thank for the plate?”

“And Neve insisted you get a piece of pie.”

Naimeryn forced a smile and reached for the offending dessert. She’d never had gooseberry pie, but he’d made it. Everything he’d made had been delicious.

“That was really nice of her, since it’s her favorite.”

Lucanis took a few more steps closer to where she stood, slowly reaching and taking the plates from her. He set them at her spot at the table, never taking his eyes off of her face. Naimeryn reminded herself to keep breathing. Play it cool. Everything was fine. Her mind was not racing. Her heart was not beating out of her chest.

Oh, no. Were her eyes red? No, definitely not. Not red. Not puffy. Creators, please let that not be why he was peering at her so earnestly.

“You should stay and eat,” he said quietly. “I was hoping you wouldn’t skip dinner entirely.

I made a pot of coffee for you just in case you came back.”

Naimeryn’s heart fluttered in her chest. “You did?”

He nodded, stepping around her. Their shoulders brushed, ever so slightly, and she heard him pouring her a cup. She turned in time to accept the drink from him. He hesitated for a moment, as if he were thinking of saying something else, then seemed to think better of it, and simply handed it to her.

Naimeryn took a sip, expecting his usual brew. Her eyes flew open wide as the sweet taste of honey and the richness of lavender cream floated across her tongue. She gripped the cup tightly and stared at him in shock.

“This — this is…”

A small smile which did not overpower his concerned expression curved the corners of his mouth. She sucked in a breath as he tentatively reached up, brushing a wayward strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her mangled ear.

“Good,” he said softly, “you *do* remember.”

*I remember everything you say to me.*

Say it.

*Say* it.

But her mouth refused to comply. Lucanis seemed to remember himself, and quickly pulled his hand away.

“I’ll let you eat. You have to remember to take care of yourself, Rook. You don’t have to work so hard.”

“Thank you,” was all she could manage. He smiled, and headed back to the pantry. Naimeryn bit her lip. Now was not the time to be a coward.

“Lucanis?” She asked, spinning and setting her cup next to her plates.

“Yes?” He asked, stopping and turning partially back towards her. For a moment, Naimeryn was struck by just how handsome he was in the firelight glow.

“It’s just… I really hate eating alone,” she told him honestly. “I know I did it to myself, but… would you stay with me?”

His smile was warm, genuine, and it took her breath away, just a little.

“Sure, Rook.”