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jollyhunter · 14 days ago

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24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 11.

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Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language) Contains brief reference to Dec.1 (Sunshine) as well as Dec.9 (Whip Stroke) !

Summary: It's Christmas shopping day and Dean and you are cooped up in the fitting room, bickering, when one thing leads to the other...

Words: 2,170

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Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: This prompt took me way too long and I think it shows... I rewrote it a good 4 times and now I'm late with posting it :') But I hope it turned out well enough and ya'll enjoy it nonetheless!

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11th Dec. - Temptation

It's a bustling atmosphere, a wry cocktail mix of merry Christmas songs playing overhead and a grouchy Dean cooped up with you in the fitting room. “Maybe I should get the other tie…” you mumble to yourself, mentally going through different outfits for Dean.

“Please don‘t…” you hear Dean interject next to you, but you ignore him, focused on the task to get you both through this. With a contemplating hum, your eyes scan the assortment of outfits you had picked for him for the upcoming Christmas dinner with your family. You decide to start out with the white shirt, your hand running along the fabrics to smooth out some wrinkles.

Dean suddenly drapes his muscular arm around your neck, heavy and warm against your cheek before he pulls you in close to tuck your head under his chin where he places a soft kiss on your head. “Can we please go home?” He mutters against your hair, still keeping you close to distract himself with your scent (and to keep the clothings out of your reach).

You push a bit into his sides, turning in the narrow cabin to face him. “Nope, we‘re not done yet,” you chuckle as you tilt your head to glance up at him with a teasing smile. But your amusement dies down the moment you see his face; His eyes briefly pull shut before they go wide again in an effort to hold your gaze, his head visibly hard to keep up. Dean looks exhausted. You both didn't get much sleep lately, and on top of that, you know he is bored out of his mind, not being a fan of the holiday shopping spree.

“That bad?” you ask, although you already see the answer in his half-lidded eyes.

“Mhm,” he lets out a tired hum while he nuzzles his nose against your hair, sniffing the sweet smell of it. His voice is hoarse and quiet, seemingly left of any energy to speak properly, “‘m real tired…”

“Just this one, then we‘re done. Okay?” you insist while you reach up to gently tug at the front of his jacket, pulling it off and dropping it onto the small plastic stool in the corner of the cabin.

“You’ve been sayin’ that for the past 3 hours…” He groans and drops his forehead to your shoulder, “Please.” He begs now, his thumb gently caressing your upper arm.

Yeah, okay. You might have overdone it a bit. But it was the first day in months where you had a day - an entire day - with no hunting business whatsoever. So, naturally you took the chance. You‘d been running from one shop to the next since the early morning. Which wasn‘t that much of a deal for you, but clearly you overestimated Dean‘s shopping-stamina.

“Come on, we’re almost done,” you coo softly while you wiggle yourself free from his grip. “You wanna look good, don't you?”

His arms reluctantly slide off your shoulders to fall heavily next to his sides and his head drops forward for a moment. With a low grunt, he catches himself mid-air just to slump with his shoulder against the mirror, almost knocking into you in the process. “You kiddin' me? I look fucking great in anything...” he rolls his eyes and tries to argue cockily, but his tired words lack his usual bite.

Unperturbed, your hands effortlessly work their way down his buttons. He watches your stubborn determination with a frustrated look, but he’s too tired to put up any fight. “Up with your arms big baby.” You instruct and without waiting for his reaction, you first pull his shirt off and then unbuckle his belt to pull his pants off as well, stripping him naked for what feels like the twentieth time today.

You turn around to fetch a white shirt and marine blue pants off the hanger, matched with the first one out of the six suits, all waiting to be tried on. Meanwhile you hear him grumble something about ‘relentless damn woman‘ as he‘s rubbing the space between his eyebrows. You roll your eyes but keep going, pulling one outfit off the hanger after the other while Dean’s muttering disgruntled words under his breath. The entire time you try to navigate around Dean, but it was a difficult task with him almost keeling over and burying you alive in the narrow cabin at any given moment.

After a while you turn away again to finally fetch the last piece. “Your cute ass still red from all the whippin’?” he asks out of nowhere. And this time all of sudden his gravelly and slurred voice was way louder than before, enough to get you to whirl around with a panicked expression. A lazy, cocky smirk forms on his lips when he realizes that he‘s finally found a way to throw you off course and draw your attention away from the clothings, “I bet it is… the way you were whimperin’… an’ me whipping an’ fu-” your hand darts out to clasp it over his lips, mouthing a silent “shut it!”, praying that no one heard him. But he just continues to mumble, his words now muffled by your hand. You shoot him a glare, watching how he enjoys your flustered state with a tired version of his trademark cheshire grin, standing there in nothing but white boxers – tenting big time.

You had learned a while ago that when Dean is exhausted and practically running on steam, he has four phases; First he turns grouchy and irritated. When you won’t give in, his annoyance soon crumbles and he’s desperate and pleading. Still no luck? He’ll huff and puff and grumble in frustration like a child. You’re still relentless? Dean will lose every bit of the little inhibitions he has, and turn into a tired ‘n horny mess.

He gently grabs your hand on his mouth and places a kiss to your palm before his tongue suddenly darts out to lick it. You almost screech at the unexpected wetness on the inside of your hand and instantly pull it back. Dean grins mischievously with a hint of pride at his dirty move. “Y’know… I could use some juice,” he drawls out before he pulls his bottom lip back to graze his teeth across it. You stare up at him with raised eyebrows, the realization dawning on you; Dean has entered the fourth phase.

“Heh-heh,” Dean lets out his typical cocky chuckle in reaction to your lack of response. His half-lidded eyes glint with mischief when his hand trails down your back - but you swat it away before it reaches its destination.

“Dean, focus! Not here.” You hiss in a low voice, trying to get his mind out of the gutter. But despite your slight annoyance, you can’t fight off the small amused smile creeping up on your face.

“Oh come on baby, gimmi somethin’... please.” He mutters, leaning closer again to shower your scrunched up face with little kisses now. His strong arms are loosely draped over your shoulders, still heavy as they caress your back with slow circles. “I’ll be good… I promise…” He nudges your cheek with his nose before he drops his head to your shoulder, mumbling against your neck, “I need you… please….” His voice takes on that desperate, pleading tone which for some reason always slips into a sudden extra thick Texan accent when he’s this deadbeat. “‘m serious… I’ll be good… an’… an’ I’ll try on whatever you want… an’ be yer mule for the rest of the day…”

That earned himself a chuckle of yours to which he lifts his head to look at you with a lazy smile. For some reason you can’t help but feel like this cuddly, touchy, needy and hella knackered Texan-boy version of his has got something incredibly endearing.

He goes back to pepper your exposed skin with kisses and despite his half-comatose state, he manages to hit every single right spot on your neck all the way up to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, right to your core. His stubbles brush against your jawline while you nuzzle your nose against the side of his face, the smell of him suddenly much more intense and tantalizing. Without realizing it, you tilt your head to the side, gaining him more access. Meanwhile his hands travel down your back once more, but this time you allow him to move on, to squeeze and massage your ass. You have to stifle a small moan against his bare chest and moments later your lips start planting kisses all over his abs before you can even register it. Dean groans into the crook of your neck, his hot breath tingling your skin while his fingers dig into the fabric of your jeans.

But then you suddenly tense up and pull slightly back as you could’ve sworn you heard a noise from outside the fitting room. Wait - Shit. Right. You curse inwardly when the realization of you being in public slaps you right out of your mindless state. “Dean, wait-” you mutter in slight panic and Dean freezes instantly, his lips still pressed against your skin while he glances at you from the corner of his eyes with a raise of his brows.

“What if somebody hears us?” You continue, your rational mind clinging to your fear of getting caught.

Dean raises his head, just enough to whisper softly against your ear, his hoarse voice rumbling and reassuring despite his state, “s’okay… there’s no one else down here… nuthin’ to worry, sunny.” You raise an eyebrow at the new version of ‘sunshine’ but don’t get to comment on it, as he continues in a teasing tone. “An’ if anyone does happen to hear us, they’ll jus’ know we’re havin’ a real fun time.”

“But…” you start out, your increasingly clouded mind desperately trying to come up with some argument but ultimately giving in to the lips on your skin and the pooling heat between your legs.

It’s an interesting thing, how quickly the fear of getting caught can turn into excitement, only fuelling one’s desire to go on. The temptation to test the limits. Just a bit more. Just a kiss more, a touch more - okay, one soft moan won’t be enough to get anyone's attention, right? Yeah alright, that was a bit loud, Dean, but if we keep it down we can keep this going… just a tad bit longer.

“Nothing more than a little hanky-panky - okay?” You state between kisses.

“Nuthin’ more than a little hanky-panky.” He repeats huskily.

Minutes later that poor stool of the corner creaks under the combined weight of Dean, and you straddling his thighs, bouncing up and down on his thick cock. Your forehead drops to rest on his head, your teeth tugging at strands of his dark blond hair whenever he pulls you down by your hipbones. He groans into your shirt, his face dug between your breasts in a weak effort to muffle his sounds. You stifle a whimper when he suddenly grazes his teeth along the fabrics, pinching your nipple with his teeth. Your nails claw at the skin of his bare back and his neck, and your lips are firmly pressed against his hair as you try to hold in your own moans and your frantic panting.

The stool squeaks in protest when your rhythm picks up its pace and Dean starts to buck his hips to meet you halfway. A loud guttural moan escapes your throat when the tip of his cock hits a sensitive spot, but your sound is quickly muffled by Deans hand. “Shhh… let’s not alarm the staff…” He whispers into your ear with a sly smirk. You nod and he pulls his hand away again to clash his lips with yours, swallowing each other’s exclaims of pleasure while you both feel the need to go harder, deeper. Dean tightens his grip on your hips and you hook your feet around the stools legs. He slams you down on his cock, feeling it grow harder with each thrust when you start clenching your walls around him and feel yourself grow closer to that sweet release. A few moments later, all three of you are trembling and groaning, so close to the breaking point that - Hold on a second.

But it’s too late, you’re both too far gone to form any thoughts now, your bodies working mindlessly to get you over that edge. At last, a deep, muffled groan echoes through the room as you both come undone and collapse on the stool, shaking and panting heavily. Unfortunately that’s the last push needed to send the stool over the edge as well; before either of you realize what’s going on, its legs give in with a row of shuddering cracks and you all three crash into the floor in a cacophony of plastic snapping, a high pitched scream, and a half-strangled “Son of a bitch!”

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Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation

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Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

#dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #spn x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #spn #kinky advent calendar #spn reader insert #dean imagine #dean fanfiction #spn x you

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axelsagewrites · 6 months ago

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Well if you still could 👀

Do you think you could do another Ned x f!wife!reader? I really enjoyed the horny!ned fic you already have but I'd be happy with anything. Fluff, sunshine, rainbows, or babies. ❤️ have a nice day 😊

Ned Stark*Sweet Wife

Pairing: Ned x wife!pregnant!reader

Word count: 942

Warnings: pregnancy and pure fluff

Masterlist Here

“My lady I don’t think you quite understand,” Lord Karstark said as you bit your tongue and tried to pretend you hadn’t had better plans for your morning than been chased down by a disgruntled Lord who thought you’d give in easier than your husband, “If you allowed my family to use that land, we would maintain it for you. Free of charge,” he said as if offering you the best deal in the world.

You took a breath before speaking, trying to compose yourself, “And while I am grateful for the offer my Lord, those lands do not belong to you, and we are already in discussion for how we will divvy them up to- “

“Okay but,” he cut you off making you sigh this time though he did not notice, “If I am trusted with them- “

“Lord Karstark,” Ned’s voice came from behind you with an unusual iciness to it. “I do believe my wife,” he said, his arm gently going around your back, his hand resting on your hip, “and I have now both explained to you your assistance, no matter how generous, is not needed in this matter. However, if your family is desperate for farm lands I’m sure a trade deal can be arranged- “Karstark opened his mouth to speak but Ned didn’t stop, “Which you can take up to the owners of the lands once I have declared them. now if you don’t mind my wife and I are late to a very important meeting,”

Karstark grumbled something under his breath but nodded, “Of course my Lord, my lady. Goodbye,” he muttered before turning to leave with his nose in the air.

“Do you think he is sniffing out the new owners?” Ned leant down, to whisper in your ear making you laugh.

Ned took your arm and began to guide you through the busy corridors, “Who do we have to meet?” you asked, eyebrows scrunched, “I don’t remember setting up a meeting,”

“I arranged it,” Ned said, smiling politely at some passing Lords, “It is of the upmost importance that we attend,”

“And whys that?” you asked as you suddenly stopped outside a meeting room.

He opened the door, ignoring your question for now to lead you inside. Once the door was shut behind you, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you with his finger tilting your chin up to face his cheeky grin, “So I can do this,” he leant down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

You giggled a little into the kiss before pushing him away, “Someone could walk in,”

“So?” he asked, hand moving to rest gently on your hip, “We’re married now remember. It’s allowed,” he teased though his hand gently rose to rest on your stomach, “And soon everyone will know anyway what we get up to,”

“Shut up,” you laughed, pulling him back down for a brief gentle kiss. Your bump was barely noticeable under all the furs and wool you wore to keep the cold out but you both knew it was there, “I hope she doesn’t inherit your cheek,” you teased.

“She?” he asked, a hopeful grin on his face, “How’d you know?”

“I just do,” you smiled but it quickly faded, “I hope that doesn’t disappoint you- “

“Of course not,” he said, cupping your face in his hands, “Nothing you do, especially not this, could ever disappoint me,” his thumb gently stroked over your cheek bone. It was a tender moment, of course ended once again by his antics, “Besides I’ll take any excuse to try again,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“As if you ever needed one,”

Your laughter both stopped when there was a knock on the door. Ned held a finger up to his lip, “Maybe if we’re quiet, they’ll go away,” he whispered.

“Lord and Lady Stark may I have a moment?” said a voice behind the door. You could swear it was the diplomat Lord Bolton sent.

“I swear if this is about those lands, I may just burn them to the ground,” Ned muttered before you both stepped back to open the door.

You barely got to see Ned for the rest of the day. Every Lord or noble man seemed to need his attention today and you were running around Winterfell organising a banquet for Ned’s upcoming nameday. It wasn’t till you walked into the hall for dinner you saw him again.

“Hello husband,” you greeted with a small smile as you took his seat.

“You need to slow down,” he said, not even bothering to say hello making you roll your eyes, “you’ve been running around faster than the servants,”

“That’s because I need to finish organising the details for- “

“What you need is rest,” he said, cutting you off and placing a hand over yours.

You sighed, tempted to push it away but you knew his heart was good, “You cannot confine to my bed out of fear,”

“If I was to confine you to our bed it would not be for that,” he whispered making your cheeks burn.

“Ned!” you scolded, slapping his thigh making him laugh, “You are so lucky I love you. Otherwise, I’d kill you,”

He smiled softly at that, “lucky indeed. However, I’d be even luckier if you would let me announce our news,” he said, squeezing your hand gently.

You couldn’t help smiling a little despite his antics, “Perhaps it would be a nice announcement to make on your nameday,” you finally conceded, “I just wish we could keep it a secret a little longer,”

“Then your wish is my command, sweet wife.”

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#ned stark #ned stark imagine #ned stark x reader #ned stark one shot #ned stark fluff #ned stark fic #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fluff #ned stark drabble #game of thrones drabble #got x reader #got fluff #got imagine

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kaleldobrev · 1 year ago

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Shiny New Toy (1)

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Fem!Virgin!Reader

Summary: You're Demon Dean's shiny new toy

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (3x), Smut (Oral Sex, Fingering), Virgin Reader, Demon Dean (yes, he gets a warning), Bondage (kinda?), Forced Orgasm (kinda?)

Authors Note: I feel like I should apologize for this cause I wrote this when I was horny past midnight when I should have been sleeping but I'm not going to apologize | What I should be apologizing for is the fact that I wrote this knowing that it's gonna be multiple parts | This is the more tamer of the parts | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, trying to adjust to the unnatural red glow of the room you were currently in. Your hands were above your head, chained up and in thick cuffs. Your legs were spread apart equal to your shoulders; they too were chained up in similar cuffs. Looking down at your body, you almost didn’t realize what you were wearing at first, as you were too distracted by the cuffs on your wrist and ankles. You were wearing a thin layer of clothing; wearing something that you hadn’t bought yourself, nor would ever buy. You were wearing a matching set of lace see-through lingerie. And from the feeling of the cold metal against your ass, the panties that you were wearing was in fact a thong - something you hated more than anything.

Your stomach felt like it was in knots, and your throat was unbelievably dry, like you hadn’t had water in days. You didn’t know how long you had been in this room; the last thing you had remembered was being in the Bunker, you and Sam being chased with a hammer by Dean. In this moment, all you could think about was Sam, hoping and wishing that he was okay.

The sound of a metal door opened behind you, and from the sound of it, it sounded heavy. You shut your eyes for a brief moment, trying to gather your thoughts and trying to lower your racing heart; but it was all a failed attempt. In addition to the door you heard heavy boots walking across the floor behind you, followed by a small chuckle. The heavy boots and that chuckle were two things that you instantly recognized. “Dean.” You mumbled, letting out a breathy sigh.

A hand touched your arm, and your body jumped and tensed at the same time from the contact. Dean finally coming into view, giving you the flirtiest of smiles; one that you had been so accustomed to getting from him. “Hey Sunshine.” Your heart picked up the pace at hearing your nickname that he had reserved only for you. “Your heart is going a million miles. I could hear it down the hall.”

He ran his hand down your arm, across your breasts, all the way down to your stomach, just stopping right above the hem of your panties. “Where are we?” You asked.

“We’re in Hell Sweetheart.” He said so matter of factly. You were fucked. One of his fingers started playing with the hem of your panties; a part of you was starting to get turned on, but another part of you tried remaining strong; but that part was failing as your body was reacting in a much different way. You were almost embarrassed, ashamed that you were getting turned on; and Dean had barely touched you.

He removed his finger from the hem and walked over to a small cart that consisted of an assortment of tools. He picked up one tool, that seemed like a knife of some sort. Your body tensed up again, afraid of what he was going to do with it. Dean chuckled, noticing that your body had tensed. “You afraid of this?” He asked, holding the knife up, a small grin on his lips. You nodded. “Aw baby.” His voice seemed very amused.

Walking over to you, he gently started tracing the point of the knife on your skin. He didn’t apply enough pressure to leave any marks, but just enough to feel the sharpness from the blade. He started at your legs and started tracing upward, stopping at the hem again. For some reason, he was obsessed. “So beautiful.” He mumbled. He looked at you, still grinning. “I picked this little number out for you. Needed to know if you would look just as good as I pictured you would.” He paused for a moment before taking the blade of the knife and cutting off the thong; quickly throwing it off to the side. “More beautiful than I pictured.” You knew he was no longer talking about the lingerie, but your bare pussy in front of him. Although you weren’t naked, you might as well have been.

“Dean.” Was all you could get out. You had wanted to say more, but your body wasn’t cooperating.

“If I touch you, are you going to be wet for me?” He asked. You weren’t sure if he had actually wanted you to respond or not. But before you could, one of his fingers was already touching your clit. You sucked in a breath at the sudden contact. He looked at your pussy for a moment as he slowly slide his finger up and down moving some of the wetness around. He looked at you, seeming satisfied that you were already wet for him. “Sweetheart, I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked.” His face changed then, his grin almost turning into an evil like smirk. “Wait. That’s right. You’re a virgin.” He chuckled. “Virgins get wet so easily. I almost forgot what that’s like.”

You had told Dean in confidence a few months ago that you were a virgin. Upon telling him, he had practically offered to take it. But you had told him that you didn’t want to lose your virginity with a one night stand, that you had wanted to lose it to someone that you loved and someone that loved you just the same. You remembered briefly now, that he almost seemed hurt by your words.

“Now tell me.” He began, putting the knife back into the cart. “When you say virgin, how virgin are we talking here?” He asked. “Ever been fingered? Eaten out?” You shook your head. “Never? Not even once?”

“No.” Your no sounded so weak. It wasn’t like you didn’t want those things, you just never really had the opportunity. Hunting had taken up a lot of your time, and you weren’t one for one night stands. So getting fingered, eaten out, or having sex was something that didn’t happen for you. Although you were a little ashamed, you also weren’t completely upset by it either, given the fact that you had only just turned 21 a few weeks prior - it was perfectly normal for a woman your age to still be a virgin in all senses of the word.

“You know, when you first told me that you were a virgin, I gotta say Sweetness, I was very surprised.” He said, stepping in between your legs. “But, it gave me thoughts about you that…” he licked his lips before he started kissing your inner thighs. “Made me realize how badly I’ve wanted you forever.” More kisses; and more wetness started to form. A small moan had escaped your lips. “Cause baby, when I first met you, I wanted you, and wanted you bad. But, had to stop myself. You know why?” He licked a long strip of your clit. “Even though you were 18, a part of me thought that it was so…wrong to ruin you that young."

You shouldn’t have been turned on by his words but you were. You remembered the day you had met Dean. You had just turned 18 a few weeks before and you just graduated from high school. You had noticed the way Dean had looked at you, giving you his classic flirty smile. But you noticed how quickly his demeanor changed once you said how old you were. His demeanor going from overly flirty, to dad or friend. You had figured in that moment that he had no intentions of ever wanting to pursue a relationship with you given your age. You were a little crushed to say the least.

“You have no idea how hard it’s been trying to control myself around you.” He took one of his fingers and started to slowly push inside your cunt. “So many times I pictured what it would be like to just bend you over the counter and fuck that little ass of yours raw.” His finger was going slow, and you were thankful for that; but amazed at the same time. “So many times I’ve pictured having my head between these legs of yours and eating you out until your legs turned into jello.” He added a second finger now, and you tensed up, clenching around his fingers.

“You’re so wet for me.” He mumbled. “And you’re taking my fingers real good too.” He said a bit louder. Two of his fingers were now fully inside of you, knuckle deep. “I may be a demon, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna be nice and not let you cum. Especially given the circumstances.” The way he said it, it sounded almost as if you should be thanking him. His movements started going slow, as he started pumping his fingers inside of you. It was a weird sensation, but a sensation that your body had craved for such a long time; especially from Dean. You had wanted so much to lose your virginity to him; but not to this version. He was a demon, a cruel, heartless knight of hell. Not your sweet, loving, nerdy best friend whom you were in love with.

“Dean please…” You weren’t sure what you had wanted to say in that moment. You didn’t necessarily want him to continue or to stop; your body and mind were confused. You had felt like you shouldn’t have been wet for him, to be turned on, he was a demon after all. But all you saw and felt was Dean, no demon in sight despite what you had actually knew.

“Yes Sweetheart?” He asked, his fingers were starting to pick up the pace, every so often his fingers would hook and curl inside of you, trying their best to get the perfect angle. You felt yourself starting to get wetter and wetter, and you knew how much Dean was enjoying this. He had pictured you so many times. “Need you to use your words doll.”

The pressure inside of you was building, your pussy clenching around his fingers. “My little virgin gonna cum?” He practically whispered. You couldn’t help but nod. “You know how I know? You’re clenching so tight around my fingers.” He smirked. His free hand tilted your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him. Your hips instinctively started swiveling trying to help yourself cum. He looked at your hips for a moment before making eye contact with you again. “Look at those little hips go.” He grinned again. “Want to look at your face the first time you cum. Need to see your O face.”

His fingers were aggressive now, his movements were erratic. Although you were close to an orgasm, it almost felt like he was trying to force one out of you; something that you didn’t think was possible. A moment later you started coming; your face contorted, and your eyes briefly shut. Your hips bucked up, and Dean continued to finger you through your orgasm. “Fuck.” You breathed out, your chest rising and falling. He removed his fingers from your cunt, and you already missed them inside of you. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked them clean.

“More delicious than I pictured.” He said. “Can’t wait for you to cum around my cock.” He smirked. This was going to be a long night for sure.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #demon dean x reader #demon dean x you #spn #supernatural #reader insert #female reader

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rosyrosethings · 6 days ago

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King Harry and The Nanny

This is Part 3. Very angst.

Part 2

Summary: Y/n is feeling guilty about the affair. Charlotte finds out about the two.

///

Harry's body stiffened at Charlotte’s declaration, the silence in the room stretching into an uncomfortable beat. He felt a cold sweat break out at the back of his neck as he registered her words. Another baby. The idea felt suffocating, like an anchor tied to his chest, dragging him down into murky waters. His mind raced, trying to piece together the best response that wouldn’t betray his turmoil.

Before he could answer, a sharp realization hit him—Y/N was still in the closet, listening to every word. The thought of her hearing this conversation twisted his heart in a way that left him breathless. He needed to end this, to find a way to get Charlotte out of the room before things spiraled further.

“Charlotte,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice calm, “this is a conversation we should have when we’re both rested and not caught up in the emotions of the day.”

Charlotte’s blue eyes searched his, a flicker of doubt crossing them. “Harry, please don’t dismiss this. We’ve been distant, and I thought... maybe this could help us find our way back to each other.” The sincerity in her voice was laced with desperation, and Harry couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. He looked away, the weight of her gaze pressing down on him like a burden. He swallowed hard and forced himself to meet her eyes again, determined to keep his voice steady.

“We will talk about this,” he assured her. “Just... not tonight. Let’s get some rest first.”

Charlotte’s shoulders sagged slightly, a small sigh escaping her lips as she nodded, conceding to his request. “Alright, tomorrow then.”

She reached out, her fingertips brushing his forearm, and he had to resist the urge to flinch at the touch. With one last glance around the room, Charlotte turned and walked out, the soft click of the door closing behind her a temporary reprieve.

As soon as the sound faded, Harry rushed over to the closet and opened the door. Y/N stepped out, her expression unreadable but her eyes brimming with unshed tears. The realization of their situation hit her harder than before, the image of being the ‘other woman’ searing into her mind.

“I need to go,” she whispered, voice trembling as she pushed past Harry, brushing by him with a touch so light it might not have even been there.

“Y/N, wait—”

But she was already at the door, her back to him as she paused for a brief second. “Please, Harry. Don’t,” she said, her voice cracking before she slipped out, leaving him alone in the silence.

///

The next morning, Y/N walked through the grand entrance of the palace, the familiar scent of fresh lilies and polished wood greeting her senses. The corridors were already bustling with staff, but to her, it was just another day in the palace. She held her head high, determined to carry on as if nothing had changed, even though every step weighed heavier than the last.

James and Anastasia were already waiting in the playroom when she entered coloring sheets in front of them. their faces lighting up as they saw her.

“Y/N!” James shouted, racing toward her with the boundless energy only a child could possess. Anastasia followed closely behind, her giggles filling the room as Y/N knelt down to scoop them both into a hug.

“Good morning, my little sunshines!” Y/N said, planting kisses on their cheeks. She focused on their smiles, letting their joy distract her from the ache in her chest.

“Can we play outside today?” Anastasia asked, her eyes sparkling with hope.

“Of course, but only after breakfast,” Y/N replied, brushing a stray curl from the little girl's forehead. The children chattered excitedly, and Y/N threw herself into their world, listening intently and laughing with them as though nothing had changed.

But that facade cracked the moment she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Harry’s presence filled the room, as undeniable as the sunlight streaming through the tall windows.

“Good morning,” Harry’s voice was deep, commanding, and tinged with a note of hesitation as he addressed them all.

Y/N’s muscles tensed, her fingers briefly pausing in their play with Anastasia’s hair before she forced herself to continue. Without looking at him, she stood and gave the children a bright smile. “Now that The king is here! I think it’s time for me to check on the kitchen staff to make sure your favorite breakfast is ready,” she said, her voice a touch too bright as she glanced over their heads, avoiding Harry’s eyes.

“I can help!” James volunteered, grabbing her hand.

Y/N chuckled, crouching to his level. "Its okay James, I will be right back. Talk to your father." She said softly.

Before Harry could say anything or step closer, Y/N was already halfway to the door. She felt his gaze on her back, the intensity of it searing her skin. She quickened her pace and slipped out, shutting the door behind her with a soft thud.

Harry’s jaw clenched, frustration simmering just below the surface. He turned to find James staring at him with a curious tilt of his head. “What’s wrong, Daddy?”

Harry sighed looking at his, a smile naturally appearing ruffling his son’s hair. “Nothing, buddy. Let’s hear about your morning.”

The day continued in a series of frustrating near-misses for Harry. Each time he sought Y/N out, she was busy with some other task—organizing the children’s schedules, meeting with the staff about upcoming events, or simply disappearing down another hallway before he could catch up.

By midday, his patience was threadbare. He finally spotted her in the courtyard, chatting with one of the palace maids about the children. Harry's stride was long and determined as he approached, but before he could reach her, his aide, Mr. Renfield, intercepted him.

“Your Majesty, we need to discuss the details of the upcoming state meeting. The Prime Minister has requested an audience within the hour,” Renfield said, bowing respectfully but firmly blocking Harry’s path.

A muscle in Harry’s jaw twitched. “Can it wait?” he asked, his eyes locked on Y/N, who was now laughing at something the maid said, her smile like a knife to his already bruised heart.

“I’m afraid it cannot, sir. It’s urgent,” Renfield pressed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

With a final glance at Y/N, Harry exhaled sharply and nodded. “Fine. Lead the way,” he said, already feeling the frustration coil tighter in his chest as he was forced to turn away. The sound of her laughter faded behind him, and he knew that, for now, he would have to wait a little longer to have the conversation that had been gnawing at him since last night.

He finally stepped into James’s room. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the walls, illuminating James hunched over his desk, scribbling away at his homework. It was Friday, which meant Y/N had put the children to bed around 9 p.m. James often bargained for more time, and Y/N, with her gentle nature, would stay until he drifted off. Sometimes, that meant spending the night curled up in the chair beside his bed because James couldn’t sleep if she left. He would wake every hour, panicked until he saw her still there, a silent guardian against the dark. One morning, Harry had found them just like that: James, small and peaceful, nestled in Y/N’s lap as she cradled him with one arm, her head resting against the chair, eyes shut in exhausted slumber. The sight struck Harry so deeply that he couldn’t resist capturing the moment—a soft, candid memory that spoke of comfort and devotion.

James lifted his head at the sound of the door opening and smiled sleepily when he saw his father. “Are you looking for Y/N? She’s with Anastasia, putting her to bed.”

Harry’s brows knit together in mild surprise as he moved further into the room, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Why do you think I’m looking for Y/N?” he asked, easing himself onto the bed, his tone light but probing.

James leaned back in his chair, eyes wise beyond his years as he met his father’s gaze. “Because you’ve been trying to talk to her all day. I don’t know what you did, but... I don’t think she wants to talk to you.” His voice was small but certain, the kind of truth that only a child could deliver so bluntly.

Harry’s smile faltered, a sigh escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right, James,” he admitted quietly, the weight of the boy’s words settling heavily in his chest. He glanced at the chair where Y/N would sometimes sleep, a pang of longing tightening in his heart. “You’re absolutely right.”

Harry smiled at James, leaning in with a playful glint in his eyes. “But I have a plan, James,” he said conspiratorially. “Part of that plan involves a surprise. I’ve asked the chef to stay late and make your favorite dessert.”

James’s eyes widened, anticipation lighting up his face. “What is it?” he asked, leaning forward with excitement.

Harry’s grin grew as he answered, “A special pavlova with fresh berries and vanilla bean cream.”

James’s mouth dropped open, and he jumped up from his chair with pure glee. “Really?” he squealed, barely able to contain himself.

Harry nodded, his heart swelling at the joy radiating from his son. “Yes, really. You can go get it now, but remember, you must be sneaky. Y/N can’t see you, and only one slice—if she finds out I gave you sugar at 9 p.m., she’ll have my head.”

James nodded eagerly, determination sparking in his eyes. “I promise!” He dashed out of the room, his footsteps quick and light as he made his way down the hall to the kitchen.

Y/N entered the room quietly, balancing a few books in her arms. She didn’t notice Harry standing by the window, his presence hidden by the shadows. Her focus was on her nightly ritual with James, and she began speaking softly, her voice gentle and full of warmth.

“Alright, James, I’ve brought some options tonight. We’ve got your favorite adventure story, a silly one, and a new book about knights,” she said, her eyes on the books as she stepped further into the room. It wasn’t until she glanced up, expecting to see James’s eager eyes, that she froze.

Harry stood before her, tall and composed, the soft light catching in the emerald green of his eyes. Her breath hitched as she noticed the brown sweater he wore, a rare departure from his regal attire. He looked softer, almost endearingly out of place, and for a fleeting moment, her heart swelled. But reality crashed back—he was married, and the fragile warmth inside her quickly dimmed.

Harry’s expression softened, a mix of regret and yearning. “Please, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and filled with a raw sincerity. “Let me talk to you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her chest, her grip on the books tightening as she struggled to keep her composure. She hesitated, eyes searching his face for answers she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear.

Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself before meeting Harry's eyes. “What we did was wrong,” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of her words. “I shouldn’t have let it go this far.”

“It hasn’t gone far enough,” Harry countered, his tone desperate, eyes pleading.

She shook her head, a bitter smile playing on her lips. “Harry, you are the king, and you’re married. We can’t do this.”

His jaw clenched, frustration darkening his features. “I know what I am, Y/N. But I also know what I feel. You can’t tell me this isn’t real.”

“Your wife,” Y/N said, her voice breaking as she forced herself to look away. “She wants another baby. I heard her say it.”

Harry’s expression faltered, a shadow crossing his face before he spoke, voice low and raw. “I don’t want a baby with her. She isn’t—” He paused, eyes searching hers for understanding. “She isn’t you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, heart pounding as he reached out and took her hand, his touch both electric and grounding. His voice softened, the words tumbling out as if they’d been held back for too long. “I love you, Y/N. I have for longer than I can remember.”

She stared at him, speechless, the room spinning as his confession sank in. “You... what?” she whispered, disbelief laced in her tone.

“I love you,” Harry said again, firmer this time, his gaze never wavering. “I see my future with you. Not just as the king, i do hate how we found each other but I'm meant to be with you.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, tears welling in her eyes as she searched for words. But none came; all she could do was look at him, the world as she knew it shifting under the weight of his truth.

"Is that true?" She said her voice choked up. Her heart swelled with affection. She hated how the two of them were in this situation. He smiled and nodded

"Very true my love." He said, her eye's swollen with tears

Y/N’s eyes searched Harry’s face, the storm of emotions between them unspoken but palpable. He leaned in, and when their lips met, the world around them seemed to fall away. The kiss was deep and desperate, a shared acknowledgment of everything they had kept buried for too long. Time stood still as they let themselves get lost in one another, their connection stronger and more real than ever before.

///

In the kitchen, James sat perched on a stool at the island, happily digging into his pavlova. His small feet swung back and forth as he savored each sweet bite. Charlotte walked in, catching sight of him with surprise.

“James, what are you doing up eating dessert this late?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm but tinged with concern.

James looked up, a touch of nervousness flickering in his eyes. “Daddy said I could have it,” he said softly, his voice uncertain. He never quite knew how to act around her, always feeling a bit unsure.

Charlotte’s brow furrowed, but her focus shifted. “Where is your father?” she asked, her tone more serious now.

“In his room, talking to Y/N,” James replied innocently, taking another bite without a second thought. To him, there was nothing unusual about it—his father spoke with Y/N all the time.

Charlotte’s eyes darkened for a moment before she composed herself. “Finish up and go to bed immediately, do you understand?”

James nodded quickly, watching her leave as he scooped up one last bite.

Charlotte moved down the hall with deliberate, quiet steps, her pulse quickening as she approached Harry’s room. The door was ajar, just enough for her to see inside. What she saw rooted her in place: Harry standing close to Y/N, their faces mere inches apart, eyes locked with an intensity she hadn’t seen from him in years.

“I love you,” Harry said, the words filled with raw honesty. “I see my future with you. Not just as the king, not with duties and titles—but as a man. A man who wants to wake up every morning to your smile, who wants to see you in every moment of my life.”

Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat as she watched them kiss, the tender and passionate exchange breaking what little composure she had left. The reality of what was happening unfolded before her, undeniable and searing.

Before she could react further, the sound of James humming a tune as he bounded up the stairs reached her ears. Heart pounding, Charlotte backed away and slipped down the hall, retreating to their bedroom before the children or anyone else could see her. Her mind raced, the sight of Harry and Y/N entwined haunting her with every step.

Y/N reluctantly pulled away from Harry, her breathing uneven as reality seeped back in. They heard the distant hum of James’s footsteps nearing, and she took a shaky step back, clearing her throat as she tried to gather herself. “I should read to James,” she said softly, her eyes searching Harry’s for a moment before she moved toward the door.

Harry nodded, the lingering warmth of their kiss still buzzing in his veins. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he whispered.

She gave a faint smile and slipped out just as James appeared in the hallway, a satisfied smile on his face from his secret dessert. Y/N ushered him back to his room, starting their nightly ritual with a gentle ease. The sugar rush had James chattering at first, but before long, his words slowed and his eyelids drooped. For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N watched as he fell into a deep sleep, no anxious glances to ensure she was still there.

Quietly, Y/N stood, brushing a soft kiss against his forehead before slipping out of the room, a sense of bittersweet contentment filling her.

Harry made his way back to his room, his mind still lingering on the warmth of Y/N’s smile and the memory of her touch. The thought of her, of what they shared and what it could mean, brought a rare softness to his expression. But as he opened the door to his room, that warmth was replaced by a sharp tension.

Charlotte was waiting for him, seated in an armchair by the window, her posture stiff and regal, her expression a mixture of anger and disdain. The dim light caught the gleam in her narrowed eyes, and Harry immediately knew this wouldn’t be an ordinary conversation.

“Harry,” she said, her voice low and controlled, though it carried an unmistakable edge. “We need to talk.”

He frowned, taken aback by her tone. “Charlotte,” he greeted cautiously, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. “What is it?”

She didn’t respond immediately, instead letting her piercing gaze roam over him. Finally, she spoke, each word sharp and deliberate. “Is there someone else?”

Harry’s brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?” he asked, trying to play dumb, though his body stiffened under her scrutiny.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Charlotte snapped, standing abruptly. Her robe flowed behind her like a storm cloud as she approached him. “Are you seeing someone else?”

The room felt stifling, the silence between them heavy and suffocating. Harry hesitated, knowing that denying it would only prolong the inevitable. Slowly, he turned to face her fully, his green eyes meeting her cold glare.

“Yes,” he said quietly, the single word cutting through the tension like a knife.

Charlotte froze for a moment, as if the confession had stunned her despite already knowing the truth. Her jaw tightened, and she took a step closer, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. “How long?” she demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and betrayal.

Harry hesitated again, guilt flickering in his expression. “Charlotte, I—”

“How long, Harry?” she pressed, her voice rising. “I deserve to know!”

He swallowed hard, unwilling to give her the full truth. “Longer than I should have allowed it,” he admitted, his voice heavy with guilt.

Charlotte’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she blinked them away, refusing to show vulnerability. Instead, her expression twisted with bitterness. “It’s her, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice dripping with venom. “The nanny.”

Harry’s silence was answer enough.

“The *nanny*,” she repeated, her voice laced with mockery and disgust. “The woman who works for us. Who takes care of our children. That’s who you’re willing to throw everything away for?”

“Yes,” Harry said firmly, his voice quiet but resolute.

Charlotte’s lip curled into a sneer, and she took another step toward him, her eyes blazing. “How could you?” she hissed, her voice trembling with anger. “I have been your wife for years, Harry. I’ve borne your children. I’ve stood by you in front of the world. And this is how you repay me? By humiliating me for some—some slut?”

Harry flinched at the venom in her tone, his jaw tightening. “Charlotte, don’t.”

“No, I won’t stop!” she snapped, her voice rising. “You’ve betrayed this family for her. And for what? What could you possibly see in someone so… *low*? She’s a servant, Harry. A servant.”

“Charlotte, that’s enough.”

“Enough?” she laughed bitterly, her voice dripping with mockery. “Oh, I haven’t even begun. She’s not even pretty! That dark skin, that unrefined look. She doesn’t belong here, Harry. She doesn’t belong with us. She’s beneath you.”

“*Enough!*” Harry roared, his voice echoing through the room with a force that made Charlotte flinch. He stepped toward her, his tall frame towering over hers, his green eyes blazing with fury.

“You will *never* speak about her like that again,” he said, his voice low and commanding, each word carrying the weight of his authority. “Not to me. Not to anyone.”

Charlotte blinked, momentarily stunned into silence by his outburst. But her shock quickly gave way to defiance. “You’re defending her? *Her*? Over me, your wife? Over this family?” she spat, her voice trembling with rage.

“Yes, I am,” Harry said coldly. “Because she doesn’t deserve your hatred. Y/N is kind, compassionate, and loyal—all the things you stopped being a long time ago. She loves our children. She knows them. She’s everything you’ve refused to be.”

Charlotte’s face twisted with anger and humiliation. “How *dare* you,” she hissed, her voice shaking. “You’re the one who betrayed *me*. You’re the one who ruined this marriage. And you have the audacity to blame me?”

“This marriage was ruined long before Y/N came into my life,” Harry said sharply. “You know it. I know it. We’ve been playing pretend for years, Charlotte. You don’t love me. You love being queen.”

Charlotte’s expression faltered for the briefest moment, but she quickly masked it with rage. “You will regret this,” she said, her voice icy. “You will regret everything. And that woman—she’ll be gone by the end of this week.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, his tone dropping to something dangerously calm. “If you so much as think of harming her or taking action against her, I will make sure you regret it. Don’t forget who I am, Charlotte. I was born to this role—you were chosen. Don’t test me.”

Charlotte stared at him, her fury burning bright but her words failing her. With a sharp turn, she stormed out of the room, her robe billowing behind her as the door slammed shut.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #watermelon sugar #harrys house #fanfic #king harry #x reader #fem reader

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lumosinlove · 4 months ago

Text

On The Line

Part Five

Once again, Logan was on his back with his chest heaving, only this time it was on the hard court, not the clay. After a moment and a brief shadow falling over him, someone lay beside him with a huff. Logan peeked out eye open to see the way the sweat tracked down Leo’s temples.

“Well, damn.” Leo asked. “Lo?”

Logan smiled. He’d picked that up from Finn. Now the nickname came at him from both of them, morning and night. Soft and loud. Finn, hollering from the side of the court. Pick your feet up. Lo! Pick your fucking feet up! Logan wondered if Leo could imagine, or wanted to know, how it sounded when Finn said it in bed. Little breaths of his name every time their bodies drew together. Sometimes Logan lived for those sounds. He wondered what it would sound like as Le instead, which Finn had taken to saying.

“We’re about to be yelled at,” Logan said.

Leo snorted. “Oh yeah. Three, two…”

“Hey, hey,” Finn shouted from court-side. “Did I say you could stop?”

They’d been doing sprints. Logan knew it was good for his game overall, but the sun was hot today, and Leo’s long legs were hard not to look at.

“He thinks he’s so tough,” Leo whispered.

Logan laughed lightly and glanced at Finn, who was walking towards them.

They had to leave in just under a week for New York. The draw had worked out so that, if all went to plan, he and Leo could meet on the court. Logan had been trying to reconcile training with Leo, knowing he’d have to beat Leo, and trying to find the right moment to kiss Leo.

He felt a light kick to his foot. “Hey. Hey, hey.”

“Come here,” Logan sighed, he held out his arms. “It feels good on our backs, the ground’s warm, allez.”

“You want a hug when Leo’s gonna whip your ass in a couple weeks?”

“Ooh,” Leo said. “He’s not wrong.”

Logan groaned at sat up, turning to glare at Leo, who just smiled that sunny smile at him and held up Logan’s hat which had fallen off. Logan snatched it and reached out a hand to Finn.

“Help.”

Finn hesitated and Logan shook his head. “I wouldn’t pull you down with your knee, Rouge.”

Finn’s palm fit into his and helped him up. Logan completed the motion with a push up onto his toes for a soft kiss to the corner of Finn’s mouth.

“Lunch,” Finn said more softly. He curved his fingers through Logan’s hair, feeling how hot it was from the sun. Then, he reached out a hand to Leo. Logan watched their palms clasp as Leo got back to his feet. Finn gave Leo three hard taps to his chest. “You might be able to beat him now. Just you wait, Sunshine.”

“Oh, I’m waiting,” Leo laughed. He mimed tapping a watch on his wrist and began walking towards the house. He turned, arms outstretched. “This place is like a zombie bunker. You could so easily never leave!” He grinned once more, and jogged towards the pool.

Finn looked at Logan with raised eyebrows. He leaned close as they collected the water bottles.

“Lo,” was all he had to say, slightly pleading, for Logan to nod.

Logan hushed him. Finn’s hair was sweaty when he pushed his fingers through it, ending with his arms looped around his neck. He kissed him hard, and when he felt Finn’s matching grin he knew he’d read his mind. The quick nip to his lip meant he wanted Leo just as bad, and he was also running out of patience.

“We could never leave,” Logan said.

Finn smiled. “It does feel like that.”

It had been difficult to think about the outside world, when Logan had first brought Finn here. Finn had been an anchor, a magnetic field—at Logan’s home the pull of him became ten times stronger. Logan had wanted nothing other than Finn in his arms. Finn between his legs, Finn pressed up against his back. In his memory, those first few days were a swirl of Finn’s laugh and smile, his hands and his body. Evening, easy matches. Hikes up to lookouts. Morning coffee and pastries. Long drives and finding small diners to stop at. Finn’s skin against his mouth, Finn’s needy breaths and low moans. Sweaty sheets and cool showers. Whispers in the kitchen at midnight making toast and box mac and cheese, Finn standing between his legs with Logan on the counter, laughing in the moonlight. It was pleasure so blinding that Logan’s hearing turned cottony and he seemed to regain awareness—woken up?— later with Finn overcome too, his entire weight heavy on Logan’s body, and still inside him. Logan hadn’t known it was possible to feel so close to someone. Curled up and sugary.

Finn was remembering, too. His laugh was soft and whispery as he dipped his kisses down to Logan’s neck. Logan closed his eyes. The sex had been quiet and mindful of Leo lately. Quick, too. Logan liked it drawn out. He wanted to not have to be mindful. He wanted Leo to know exactly what was going on because he was there, too.

Logan knotted his fingers into Finn’s t-shirt and needed so badly he could taste it.

Finn hissed a breath in through his teeth and wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders, directing him towards the house. He pressed a kiss to his temple.

“You make me crazy,” Finn said in a low voice.

Logan grinned and locked his arms around Finn’s waist to squeeze.

They ate by the pool, then decided to spend the heat of the day in the weights room and save the rest of their court training for the evening when it had cooled down. Leo was gorgeous shadows and lines in the relief of the bright lights.

Their game would have gone far too long if Finn hadn’t called it. It would have turned into something that tired both of them out rather than helped them. Logan tried to think past all of this and into the future where Leo would be his opponent once again. They were a bit famous for it now, their maddeningly even match ups. Their hours and hours of tennis. Even the crowds get tired, commentators liked to say. Imagine how those two feel!

Except Logan didn’t get tired. Not really. Physically, sure, but in his heart of hearts, he got more riled, more competitive, with every point. The longer it lasted the more he wanted to win. The more glances he stole at Leo, the higher his adrenaline peaked.

Logan rolled his shoulders as he finished up in the master bathroom. He felt good. Pleasantly sore in his shoulders and thighs. Cool in the light AC coming in from the bedroom. He flicked the light off and found Finn with his reading light on and his glasses slid a little down his nose so he could read lying down.

Logan tugged off his t-shirt and threw back his side of the covers. Finn made a pleased sound. He took off his glasses and set his book down.

“Hi,” Finn said as he flicked his light off. “Hi, yay, hi.”

No sooner had Logan leaned back into the pillows than was Finn rolling over and throwing his arm over Logan’s chest. He pushed his nose into Logan’s neck and Logan felt everything in him release. Finn’s quick bursts of kisses to his jaw, his hand running up and down Logan’s abs and chest.

“Hi,” Logan tucked his fingers into Finn’s hair. He reached out to tap Finn’s hip until Finn hooked his leg over his hips, too.

They were quiet for a moment. Just breathing. Logan looked down as Finn’s closed his eyes. He could feel him thinking, about to start the spill of all of his thoughts. He traced light fingertips over the scar on his knee. It was as familiar to him as anything now. White with age and raised under Logan’s touch.

“I don’t know why,” Finn mumbled. “But that always feels really nice.”

“I know,” Logan said.

Finn’s laugh felt rumbly against his chest and Logan squeezed him tighter.

“You know this is my favorite part of every day,” Logan whispered. “Right?”

Finn picked his head up to look at him. “This is?”

Logan brushed a thumb over the indent his glasses left on his nose sometimes. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know that.” Finn pushed himself up on an elbow, eyes delighted. He leaned forward for a soft kiss, nudging their noses together.

“I love your nose,” Logan whispered. Freckles. Pointed. Glasses-imprinted. “Regarde moi.”

“I am looking at you.”

“Ah,” Logan said. “I knew you understand me more than you say.”

Finn just leaned forward and bit gently at Logan’s jaw. “I am always looking at you.”

“This is my favorite thing in the world,” Logan said. “This. And—we want Leo.”

“Mhm,” Finn grinned into another kiss. “When did we get so greedy?”

Logan laughed but put a hand to his face to keep him where he could see him. “Finn.”

“I’m listening,” Finn said. “I’m getting hard, but I’m also listening.”

Logan pressed a hand over Finn’s mouth and Finn kissed his palm, bit at his pointer finger. Finn’s brown eyes looked at him over his own tan knuckles, scraped up from a brush with the hard court.

“Wanting Leo isn’t because you’re not enough for me,” Logan said. Finn blinked in surprise, lips parting. “You’re everything to me.”

“Oh,” Finn said softly. He pushed further up on his elbow. “Baby…I know that.”

“I know you probably would,” Logan said. “But I wanted to tell you anyway.”

“You too,” Finn said. “You know that. When I first met you, I would have never thought I’d get to…” He looked down at their bodies, intertwined.

Logan nodded. “Ouais. But…you tell me these sorts of things all the time. I just…” He shrugged, smiling a little. “This is the best part of my day.” He closed his eyes when Finn pushed their foreheads together. “Love you.”

“Love you,” Finn whispered, and his kisses turned to waterfalls down Logan’s cheeks and neck. “Love you, love you…”

Logan closed his eyes and basked in it.

“Do you think,” Finn whispered. “This could be Leo’s favorite, too? Some day. Soon.”

“What, hearing you talk and talk and talk…”

“Duh.”

Logan smiled up at the dark ceiling and thought of Leo, just in the other room. “Yeah. I think it could be.”

“Out!”

“Non!” Logan pointed his racket at Finn. “That wasn’t fucking out.”

Finn pointed his water bottle back at him. “You gonna lose it at me? Cause if you’re gonna lose it at me, you’re going to have to give me twenty thousand dollars.”

Leo laughed from the other side of the net, his hands up in victory. He had won the mini-game they usually ended practice with. It was about 50/50 between them. Infuriatingly so.

Logan squinted at the betraying line, furious that they weren’t on the clay court and he couldn’t see the ball’s mark as proof he was right. At least, he was pretty sure he was right.

“Does this mean dinner time?” Leo asked. Logan looked over and watched him give his racket a quick spin against his palm. “Cause I love winning and all, but mostly I’m fucking starving.”

Logan just tossed his racket towards Finn, who caught it deftly with a grin.

“Yeah, Le, it’s dinner time,” Finn said. “Where should we take him, Lo?”

“Actually,” Leo spoke up before Logan could reply. He straddled his way over the net with ease. Logan and Finn glanced at each other. Those long legs.

“There’s something I want to make you.” Leo reached behind his head and undid the white cotton band keeping the sweat from his eyes. “Something new. I got the fish from that cute market this morning. Thought we could be outside with the grill, since it’s a nice night.” He raised his brows at Finn. “It’d go nice with margaritas.”

“Well, damn,” Finn said. “You take home to a five-star hotel.”

Leo reached out and flicked the brim of his baseball cap up. “Thanks, Red.”

Logan had to go pick up all their spare balls then, just to hide the look on his face. Not that he really wanted to hide the look on his face. Red. Did Leo know Logan called—of course he did.

“Wow, look at that,” Finn said from the sidelines. “Superstars doing the dirty work.”

Logan looked to see Leo cleaning up his side of the court and laughed. “We’ve been doing your dirty work all afternoon, Rouge.”

Finn narrowed his eyes at him, knowing exactly what he was doing. He waved Logan off with a hand, grinning, and began the trek back up to the house.

Leo met him at the benches near the net. With his own bottle empty, Leo grabbed Logan’s for a long pull. Logan put his back against the chain fence and waited his turn. The neck of Leo’s t-shirt was a damp gray from his sweat.

“Good game,” Logan said, watching a bead join in darkening the color.

Leo held out the bottle for him. “It’s getting easier for you to say that to me.”

“Shut up.”

Leo grinned, hooking his fingers in the chain fence so he could lean over Logan. “When we first met, you couldn’t even tell me your name.”

“You knew my name.” Logan looked up at him, back against the bumpy metal. “You threw food at me.”

Leo gave the fence a playful shake, jostling Logan, then pulled back, bashful. “I got nervous.”

“Ouais, I know.”

Leo just laughed as he turned away. He shouldered both his own and Logan’s bags, and they followed Finn.

Leo fit. Seamlessly. Logan hoped he knew just how seamlessly. Logan looked forward to things he never had before. He looked forward to grocery shopping if Leo was there. He looked forward to runs because there was Leo beside him now with his stupidly long legs and telling him to keep up.

He didn’t like to think about what existed outside of their bubble. He didn’t like it when Leo retreated somewhere to take a phone call from his team.

Just then, it was outside to pace the pool with an AirPod in his ear. Finn was sitting on the sofa with a book and Logan walked around him, tracking Leo’s movements out the window. He did little jumps every once in a while like he was waiting for a serve. He mimed backhands.

“He looks upset.”

Finn turned a page. “You know windows work both ways, right?”

Leo wasn’t looking at him though. He was staring into the dark blue pool water, eyes vacant. He nodded once in a while, argued some, nodded again.

“Finn, what are they saying that makes him look like that?” Logan mumbled.

“That’s not how windows work,” Finn said, and Logan hit him lightly on the back of the head. “Lo, they’re probably talking strategy, business, whatever, it’s not exactly fun. Lucky you, I know you so well I can think like you. Leo’s team might do stuff he’s not exactly happy with.”

“His coach never smiles. Never celebrates.”

“I know.”

“I don’t like it when they tell him what to eat when we take him out to dinner.”

Finn sighed and closed his book. “I know, baby.” He reached out for Logan’s hand, guiding him to sit on the edge of the sofa beside him. “He’s happy here, though.”

Logan jumped, eyes wide. He put both hands on Finn’s chest. “You should take him.”

Finn raised his eyebrows. “Right. ‘Hi Leo, we would like you to be our boyfriend, also may I work for you?’”

“It worked for us.”

“Yeah…We were naked and in love already, were we not?”

“So?”

Finn laughed, bringing Logan’s knuckles to his mouth. “Little bit different, but whatever you want.”

“I—” Logan looked up when the patio door slid open.

Leo stepped through, snapping his AirPod case closed. He looked far more tight-shouldered than he’d been before.

“Hey,” Finn said, tilting his head back to see him. “What’s up?”

Leo sighed and came to sit on the back of the sofa. “Nothing really. Oh, is it okay that I’m sitting on this, sorry—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course.” Finn took his reading glasses off. “Everything okay?”

Leo thought for a moment, wavering his head back and forth. “They think I’ve been here for too long.” He’d looked at Logan. “Think I’m giving up all my advantages on you.”

Logan knew he’d worried about that, but it just felt plain stupid now.

“I’m not going to suddenly be able to read your mind,” Logan said. “Every shot is different.”

“That’s basically what I said.” Leo rubbed his hands over his face. “And then they were just kind of like, why are you still there anyway, like—haven’t you overstayed your—”

“No,” Finn said firmly. He reached up and put a hand on Leo’s knee. “No, you haven’t. You know you haven’t.”

“I know, but they don’t. They don’t know you two, and they don’t think we’re training as hard as we are.” Leo looked down at Finn. “My Coach really doesn’t like that I’m—” Leo rolled his eyes, “under your thumb.”

“Oh for the love of—no.” Finn tossed his book onto the coffee table. “That’s not true, but Le, I also don’t want to make things bad for you. What can I do to help?”

“Ouais, me too,” Logan said. “I don’t like that he doesn’t trust you.” Because that’s what it was. Leo’s team seemed to think of him as a machine rather than a player. “It’s also—not like you’ve been here for months and months.”

Logan wouldn’t mind though, if he stayed that long. Or forever.

“If I called him?” Finn asked. “We could just sort out that I haven’t changed your training plan at all.”

Leo flashed him a small smile. “Yes, you have.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. How do you feel about how we’ve been training? That’s all that matters.”

Finn asked them these questions every day, but didn’t seem inclined to stop. Logan loved it. How’s that? That feel okay? Got one more rep in you?

Leo always looked so taken aback by Finn asking him what he wanted. Sure, Finn told them to sprint, to run a drill again, pushing them harder and farther, but there was the flip side of jogging over to them with water, breaks to jump in the pool, or how’s that ankle that was bothering you doing today?

“Finn…” Leo said now. He looked out the window, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ve never felt better.”

“Good,” Finn said. “Well, that’s something your team should know.”

“If I tell them that, it will just piss them off.”

“It’s not about them,” Finn said. “Seriously, I’ll take that bullet for you. They can’t touch me. Want me to speak with them?”

“He’s really good at talking to people,” Logan added. “I’m horrible at it.”

Leo laughed. He had a hand pressed to one of his cheeks, blue eyes bright and glancing between them. “He can get pretty mean.”

“What’s the worst he can do? Hang up on me?” Finn shrugged. “Good for him.”

“Really?” Leo asked softly. “I…” He nodded, short and sweet. “Okay. Thank you. Seriously, thank you.”

Finn clapped his hands together and send Leo a smile. “I’ll go before dinner. Be right back. I have some other stuff to check on anyway.” He swung his legs down to the ground around Logan and kissed him on the cheek. As he walked around the back of the couch, he took a surprised Leo’s face in his hands and pressed a kiss to his cheek, too.

“Oh,” Leo said, laughing.

Finn grinned. “See you in a bit.”

Behind Leo’s back, Finn sent Logan a wink.

Leo let himself fall down onto the couch while Logan settled himself into the warm spot where Finn had been.

“You found yourself a good one,” Leo said after a moment. “A really good one.”

“Ouais. I try to deserve him.”

Leo kicked at Logan’s shin in a way that was probably meant to be protesting but only tangled their legs together. “You do deserve him. You’re a good one, too.”

“So are you,” Logan said. A small, sharp hit of fear bloomed right in his chest. “Leo?”

Leo tilted his head. “Logan.”

“You’re not seeing anyone. Right?”

The question seemed to take Leo by surprise. He straightened up a bit. “Am I—no. No, I’m not. Why?”

Logan could feel his face getting hot. He looked down at where he and Leo’s socked toes were touching. That shouldn’t make his heart pound as hard as it did. “Just—If there was someone missing you, I would be—um. Sad.” Logan shifted, then realized Leo could probably feel it every time he moved and tried to hold still, wrapping his arms around his knees.

Leo stared at him. Slowly, his mouth pulled into a bashful smile. “Well…No one misses me. But sounds like maybe you…would?”

“We would.”

“Is that why you keep wiggling your toes at me?”

Logan’s laugh took him by surprise and he squeezed his eyes shut, head falling against the couch. When he looked again, Leo was smiling at him. He wiggled his socks and Logan did it right back.

While Finn disappeared to the office, they started on dinner. Finn would probably make a few dinner reservations for when they were in New York, too—Logan hoped for three people. They’d see Finn’s family and hopefully Logan would take his matches all the way and…maybe come back to the hotel at night with Finn and Leo both waiting for him? Or, if he was knocked out, he’d get to sit in the stands with Finn’s hand on his thigh and watch Leo take it all the way home.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there?”

Logan looked up from where he was supposed to be shucking corn for Leo. He had a paper grocery bag between his knees and some corn silk sticking to his calves. He pulled off another smooth green husk.

“Nothing,” Logan said. “Just always feels like a lot, thinking about traveling.”

Leo was wearing one of those blue shirts that matched his eyes perfectly and cutting up some fruit. “All we do is travel.”

“Je sais, but I like being home. I always did, mostly so I didn’t have to talk to anyone anymore or answer fucking questions about why I’m so angry all the time and why I don’t have a coach and why, why, why…”

“Amen,” Leo said, and Logan flicked a smile up at him.

“But it’s different now with Finn with me. He’s…” Logan pulled another husk. “All I did was play tennis and think about tennis. Now I think about…”

“What do you think about?”

Logan laughed, shaking his head. “ That it’s nice being at home. With someone. This has been nice. Right?”

“Lo.” Leo raised his eyebrows and went to take a bowl down from the cupboard. He seemed to know exactly where every little thing in this house was, as deftly as if it were his own. “You know it’s been nice. Really nice.”

Logan looked down, pleased. He messed with a healing blister on his finger from his racket, pressing his nail against the forming callus. Finn would smack his hand away if he saw him doing that—Leo just threw a blueberry at him.

It’s been perfect because you’re here. Logan drew in a slow breath. Maybe he shouldn’t do this without Finn here, but he’d die if Leo didn’t know. I would miss you so badly if you left—

Leo held the bowl out to him, now filled with various fruits. “Here.”

Logan paused, blinking. “What?”

“That’s to hold you over so you don’t steal all my chopping while I start on dinner.”

Logan just stared at it. Leo’s beautiful, tanned fingers. The perfect cubes of mango and watermelon. Bananas. Wedges of orange. There were even mint leaves sprinkled in from the garden.

“Hello?” Leo laughed, giving the bowl a small shake. “Here.”

Logan took the fruit bowl, but he set it down and slid off his counter stool. Leo watched him, confused, as he rounded the kitchen island. Logan pushed up as high as he could on his socked feet, took Leo’s shoulders in his hands to pull him down, and kissed him.

It felt a bit like Finn’s first kiss. A kitchen, not a locker room. Logan hadn’t been simmering with frustration only moments before, but his blood still cooled into an easy river. He’d surprised Leo, he could tell that much from the way he was holding his breath. The way, when Logan broke the kiss just enough to look up at him, his blue eyes were wide. The way Leo let his breath out in a rush and put his hands on Logan’s waist—two warm centers of gravity.

He pulled Logan flush against him in one motion. When Logan sucked in a breath, Leo angled his jaw and turned the kiss warm and needy. Logan knew his head was tilting back, pliant for it, but he couldn’t help it. It felt good. Better than good. Leo’s hands felt massive, and he smelled like the hot sun and rubber of the court.

“Wow,” Leo whispered in between one kiss and another. “After everything, this is what gets me a Logan kiss? Fruit bowl.” Another kiss, ducking down so far that Logan should be embarrassed, but he wasn’t. On the court, maybe he clocked other people’s height as a disadvantage for him. Here, it was just plain nice. Preferred. “Fucking fruit bowl beats everything.”

“Everything?” Logan breathed.

Leo smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Logan ended up perched on the counter with his ankles locked around Leo’s waist. It had probably been a couple minutes, but Logan swore the sun had lowered some in the sky. His lips felt kissed raw and he wanted more. He wanted to wake up with that nice redness on his jaw like he got from Finn’s scruff. Eventually Leo’s mouth began working just below his chin and Logan had to make a sound, broken low in his throat as it was as he blinked at the warm, dimming kitchen in a daze—and met familiar, toasty brown eyes.

How long Finn had been standing there, Logan didn’t know. He was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. His cheeks and ears were pink and his lips looked shiny from being bitten.

As Finn rubbed a thumb against his bottom lip, he looked back at Logan, even when Logan ducked to get at Leo’s neck. He scraped his teeth there, gently, softening it further with a kiss just the way Finn liked. Leo moaned softly and Finn rested his temple against the doorframe like it was too much. Logan never wanted him to look away. He wanted to press himself into Leo’s hips, kiss his salty skin, and keep Finn looking at him like that.

“I know you’re there,” Leo managed to say just before Logan kissed him again. His words turned Logan’s kiss harder, desperate. It felt like he was going to burst with how much he wanted this. How long had he wanted this, even without entirely realizing?

How long had Leo wanted this?

Finn?

“I know you know,” Finn said. His voice was unwavering. Logan didn’t know how he did it, but it sent Logan’s heart kicking, as did Leo’s soft laugh. For the first time in what felt like hours, Leo pulled back and looked down at Logan. Logan reached up, pushing his fingers through his blond hair. He wanted him back that close again, but paused. The sight of him. He looked like he did after a match that went his way. Adrenaline and sun and happiness.

“Sunburned,” Logan said.

Leo shook his head, smiling. “All you.” He turned towards Finn, and Logan rested his head on his shoulder to look, too. Finn looked like he was breathing fast. Logan could see him worrying the inside of his cheek. His brown eyes were dark, mostly pupil, and Logan felt hooked just like he always did when he discovered what got Finn. He likes this, he thought. He really likes this.

“Finn…” Leo swallowed. “Tell me I read all the signs right.”

“The signs?” Finn repeated. He walked forward towards them in strong strides. His fingers pushed gently through Logan’s dark hair, tilting his head back. “There’s your sign. Look at Lo.”

“I’ve been looking,” Leo replied. “Now, I’m looking at you.”

Finn laughed and ran a hand over his face. “What the fuck happened? I left you two alone for not even an hour.”

“Fruit bowl,” Logan said, not that that would explain anything to Finn. Honestly, he felt a little tipsy off of Leo’s kisses alone.

Contrarily, Finn’s lips parted in understanding. “I see.”

Logan scoffed. “See what?”

Finn’s hand was still in Logan’s hair, now at the base of his neck, where he squeezed with a smile. “You’re a pretty intense person to try and understand, but once one can crack your code…” His eyes slid to Leo. “Nice one.”

“I actually wasn’t even trying right then.”

“Trying?” Logan asked. “What do you mean you trying?” He gestured to Finn. “We’ve been trying.”

Finn and Leo exchanged another look in front of Logan. It was the easiest, most exasperated pair of smiles Logan had ever seen. Logan looked between them, trying to figure out what they were beginning to laugh about. Even without knowing, it began to bring a smile to his face.

“Quoi?” he asked, but they didn’t look away from each other. “Hey, what?”

Finn didn’t give him much more room to wonder. His left hand tightened in Logan’s hair, effectively stealing his breath, while his right slid behind Leo’s neck and pulled him in, still laughing. He fit their mouths together like he’d done it a thousand times.

Logan wasn’t sure he was really breathing, watching that. Watching the way Finn kissed. He knew how it felt, he knew how good it was, but seeing it was something else. Seeing it and not being jealous was something else.

He reached out and put his fingertips against Finn’s cheek, his jaw, feeling him kiss Leo, then let his hand fall to press over Leo’s chest. Finn’s palm pressed harder into his neck, and Leo’s hand found his hip again and yanked him right up against him, just as Logan had been, as they kissed. Logan tightened his legs around Leo and pushed his mouth against the cotton of his t-shirt while he watched.

Leo laughed a short, disbelieving breath, his lips parting as Finn’s became more insistent. Leo’s hand pressed into Logan’s thigh, supporting himself, but Logan wasn’t sure he knew just how high up his palm was as his fingers bunched up his shorts.

“Have you two kissed?” Logan heard himself say, because there was no way this could be the first. Had he and Leo looked that good, just now?

Finn took his time answering, Leo chasing his mouth—oh, did Logan ever know that feeling.

“We have now,” Finn finally said.

Leo pressed his hand over his eyes. “What the fuck.”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, yeah, it took us—”

“It took you long enough!” Leo burst out. “What the fuck, we’ve been flirting our fucking asses off for weeks. For a year. I thought I was just being stupid for a while, but not many married couples flirt back, you know.”

“We’re not married,” Logan said.

Leo huffed. “Well—not technically, maybe.”

Finn dropped Logan another wink, like he had in the living room.

“We flirt back,” Logan said. “But we’re—us. We weren’t sure you’d want…”

“Oh, weren’t we though?” Finn said. “Weren’t we pretty fucking sure?”

“Recently. But before, I didn’t think…”

“Go ahead,” Finn said, at the same time as Leo said softly, “What, Lo?”

Logan looked between them.

“I didn’t think it was allowed.” He reached for Finn’s hand on his neck and took it in his own. Married couple. He touched his ring finger. “I have so much already. I didn’t think I was allowed to want more, that’s…Is—Is…”

“Is this something you can have,” Leo said for him. “Or is it just something you want?”

Logan looked up at him, surprised. “I…”

“If it means anything, I’ve stayed up so many nights with that particular question. Especially recently. And I come to the same conclusion each time.” He tilted his head briefly to rest his temple against Finn’s. “If it wasn’t okay, why would it feel this much like a life that I could have?” He turned his head to look at Finn, jaw sharp, mouth soft. Finn’s eyes darted to each part and plane of his face and Leo swallowed before continuing. “It doesn’t feel like lust. Doesn’t feel like a crush. Believe me, I’ve had both for you two.”

Finn smiled softly, pushing his chin forward for a barely-there kiss.

“Feels like a life,” Finn whispered.

Leo nodded. He turned back to Logan.

“Does that help?” Leo asked, then he dropped his voice and took Logan’s face in his hands. “Did I get it right?”

Logan wanted to try what Finn had tried. He put his chin up and let Leo kiss him soft as paint strokes.

“I think,” Finn said, leaning into them. “You got it word for fucking word.”

Evening would turn to sunset would turn to dusk, and Logan needed this night to stay as long as it could. Leo let him down from the counter and held him tight against his body for a moment. There was something sharp in the point of Finn’s canines when he smiled at them, and when Leo pulled away to start on dinner, Finn’s hands found Logan’s hips and he pulled him backwards, back flush against Finn’s chest. He kissed Logan’s neck over and over and over.

“Game,” he said between each kiss. “Set,” he said, and Leo began to laugh, getting it. “Match.”

“You think you’re the winners here?” Leo looked them up and down and gestured to himself. “I won.”

“Mm, non,” Logan said. “It’s definitely us.”

Leo pulled back on his smile, turning to the pantry.

“Chop this for me, O’Hara,” Leo said. “I’m still cooking you dinner.”

Finn caught an onion Leo tossed against Logan’s chest.

“You want to…eat?” Logan asked.

Finn laughed. “Why, did you have some plans?”

Logan thought of those kisses. Leo’s hand on his thigh. “Ah…Non.”

With his free hand, Finn pushed two fingers into Logan’s jaw to turn his head for a real kiss.

“You sweetheart,” he whispered.

Logan reached up to flick his cheek. “I feel like I missed a large part of this game.”

“You didn’t miss any of it,” Leo said, pushing the silverware drawer closed with his hip. “You maybe were a little oblivious sometimes.”

Logan spluttered as Finn slapped his ass then stepped away to take a cutting board down and pull a knife from the block. “To what?”

“Mostly a whole lot of Leo-Finn eye contact,” Finn said, and sliced in. “Oh Jesus, I’m gonna cry. Thanks for the worst job.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. Come here.” He kissed him, quick. An every-day kiss. Finn pumped his fist in victory and Leo rolled his eyes.

“Eye contact?” Logan asked.

“Yes, Lo,” Finn said. “Once I was for sure you were on board—oh fuck, here it comes.” He pressed an elbow over his face. “Ow. Ow, ow, ow.”

Logan walked forward and pulled Finn’s arm away. His eyes were all teared up, turning the brown to syrup. “Once I was on board—”

“He basically gave me the green light with those brown eyes of his,” Leo said. “I mean, not so many words were spoken, but actually,” Leo pointed a fork at Finn. “You kissed my neck in the pool one day.”

“Yes…” Finn sniffed, eyes closed. “I lost some willpower for a second, sorry.”

“Well, no, don’t be sorry,” Leo said.

Logan reached up and wiped a tear from Finn’s cheek. The onion was beginning to sting his eyes, too and he squeezed one shut to look at Leo.

Leo laughed. “Oh my God, look at you two. Hopeless. Okay, here, one second.”

He disappeared through the doorway to who knew where.

“I think he knows this house better than me,” Logan said.

Finn blinked down at him, Logan sniffled and tried to look up at him, but eventually Finn laughed, gave up and closed his eyes against the burn. He pressed their foreheads together instead.

“Did that really just happen?” Finn whispered. “I love you. Way to go, Tremblay.”

“It was easier than I thought. I didn’t know he was so—wanted us, too? I was worried he didn’t. Or wouldn’t. Or not as badly as we…”

“Oblivious.”

Logan punched Finn in the arm. “I’m not.”

Finn pulled back and looked down at him. He wiped at Logan’s damp cheek.

“Look at you,” Finn said. “How could he not want you?”

Logan leaned forward onto his toes, palms flat on Finn’s chest. “What was that about me having codes?”

“Grumpy until Finn kisses you.” Leo strode back into the kitchen as he spoke. “Irritable until someone brings you food after a workout. Happiest when someone is touching you somehow—but you’d never admit it—and always, always, worried,” he stopped in front of Logan, “about the people you love.”

“That’s not a code,” Logan said.

“It is when you need to know what you’re looking for,” Leo said.

“Looking for? Looking for when?”

Finn tighten his arms around Logan’s waist. “When you’re hoping to make the legendary, tough-as-nails Logan Tremblay melt in your arms.”

“Been there,” Leo said.

“Done that,” Finn added.

They clasped hands like they did sometimes on the court and Leo held up three objects. “Candles. For the onions.”

“I have candles?” Logan mumbled. He couldn’t imagine where they had come from.

Before he could really blink, Finn had dimmed the lights and there were five candles set up around the kitchen, giving it a soft glow. Onions were sizzling soft and fragrant in a pan along with oil and mushrooms. Logan felt a little dizzy. Finn put his hands on Leo’s hips to step behind him and mimed forehands to him when he handed him objects like a zucchini to chop or a wooden spoon. Logan stayed on his counter stool, making his way through the fruit and leaning back into Leo’s chest when he came over to wrap his arms around him from behind.

They moved out to the patio and pool when it was time for the grill, leaving behind the pleasant, smoky smell of blown-out beeswax in favor of charring vegetables and fish. The sun had turned the world and its pool reflection orange and Finn put a glass of white wine in his hand. Logan’s mind turned slow, watching the way Finn slipped his arm around Leo’s waist. He wouldn’t stop touching Leo, and Logan wasn’t sure how, but it felt like he could feel every slip of Finn’s fingers over Leo’s back and shoulders. At one point, when there was nothing left to do, Leo turned quick and pinned Finn against the stones of the house to kiss him—they were the harder kisses of a late, hot night, and stood stark in the lingering sunlight they were bathed in now. Finn looked over at him while he was catching his breath, Leo having left him with a smile to go plate their dinner.

Wow, Finn mouthed at him, and Logan had to rest his cheek in his hand just to feel how hot it was.

The solar lanterns went on around them as they sky turned to purple and blue. Logan was hungry, a deeper sort of hungry. Their empty plates stacked on the table in front of them and Leo’s mile-to-go tanned legs were stretched out and crossed on the table. Logan maybe looked at them for too long, because when he looked up, Leo was watching him.

“One more code,” Leo said. “Quiet Logan.” Leo raised his eyebrows at Finn for answers.

“Furious or horny,” Finn said. “Occasionally both.”

“I’m not furious,” Logan said, just to be difficult.

Leo let his head rest back against the canvas cushion of the patio couch. “Oh, no?”

“Non.” Logan finished off the last sip of his wine and looked into the glass. “What did the other eye-contacts say?”

Finn’s arm stretched behind Leo along the back of the sofa, and Leo’s eyes flicked up to look at him.

“Lots of silent conversations, you and I,” Finn said. He curved his wrist to tussle with the golden ends of Leo’s hair.

“Hm.” Leo thought. “First it was Finn making eyes at me and me trying to be, like—is this in a gross cheating way or—but he’s Finn and you’re you and he’s obsessed with you so there was no way.” He pointed his glass towards Logan. “I mean, then you started making eyes. But I also kind of thought you just kind of…”

“Stare really hard at everyone he looks at,” Finn finished.

“Exactly.”

“What?” Logan cut in.

“In a cute way!” Leo said hurriedly. “It’s also really hot. I mean, not across the court—across the court it makes me want to strangle you.”

Logan couldn’t help it. He laughed. “I make you want to strangle me? You do the annoying shirt thing before every serve!”

“What annoying shirt thing?” Leo asked.

Finn laughed. “Lo, baby, that’s not so much annoying as it is…frustrating.”

Logan just stood up and picked up the hem of his shirt, pretending to wipe sweat up his face. “As if we need you to flash your stomach every two seconds.”

Leo looked delighted. “Oh, you don’t like that?”

“It’s not needed,” Logan said, crossing his arms and moving to stand in front of Leo. “It’s a distraction. I mean, who are you Sascha Zverev?”

Leo narrowed his eyes, obviously biting back a smile.

Finn had his knees spread, relaxed as he looked up at Logan, too. “Furious and horny.”

Without sitting up, Leo flatted his hand low against his stomach and pushed up the hem of his shirt, revealing a light sprinkling of blond hair and his tanned, toned stomach. “Now that you told me, I guess I’ll have to stop using it on the court. Unfair advantage and all that.”

Finn hummed and reached forward. He hooked a palm behind Logan’s closest thigh and pulled, sending Logan forward and straight into straddling Leo’s lap. Logan caught himself, hands on Leo’s bare skin. It had sent both of their breaths out of them in a rush. Leo was grinning, almost too widely, and panting through a light laugh. His hands curved over Logan’s lower back. Finn leaned back again and took a sip of his wine.

Leo was warm beneath him, and he didn’t seem to mind the weight so Logan let himself relax, sinking off of his heels and fully onto his lap. Leo squeezed his hips in reply.

“This is much better than eye-contact,” Leo said, but the last syllables were quiet and jumpy because Logan had started pushing his palms up his chest, under his shirt. He flipped his palms up and gripped the fabric. Leo didn’t need him to say anything. He sat forward enough for Logan to pull it over his head. The gold chain he wore spilled like water back to his throat, but Logan only had a moment to look before Leo was doing the same to his shirt. Logan shivered at the feeling of Leo’s hands on his bare ribs. Blue, blue eyes met his. Leo’s face held a timid, burning fire. He breathed in, trying to press into his hands, and Leo’s fingers slotted into the spaces in between seamlessly.

Logan looked at Finn. He had set his glass down and had that hand resting low on his stomach, thumbing the band of his shorts. He arched a brow at Logan.

Leo, when Logan found his blue again, was breathing more shallowly now, lips parted. He liked feeling Leo breathe beneath his hands. He liked being able to see where the sun touched his skin.

Logan leaned forward slowly, holding Leo’s gaze, before ducking his head to take that gold chain between his teeth. He pulled gently until Leo’s head tilted back for him, baring his neck, and then pressed his lips there right over a pounding beat.

“Huh,” Leo breathed. “That belonged to my grandfather.”

“D’accord,” Logan said, pressing his lips over the metal, now warm. “What do you want me to do, thank him?”

Leo’s laugh was loud and breathless. Heat spiked through Logan’s entire body when he felt Leo’s hand, large and warm, cup the back of his neck. “God, Logan.”

Logan pulled back to look at him, leaning into his hands. “What’s my code now?” Logan pushed his hips down and watched Leo’s eyes flutter shut then open again. “What am I thinking now?”

Leo just laughed and pulled Logan to him.

Warm. Leo’s mouth was warm and sweet with the wine. Something pushed against Logan’s shoulder and the world went a little lopsided. Logan though it was just Leo’s kiss making his head spin until he felt his back hit the soft cushions of the couch and realized it had been Finn pushing them. He laughed into Leo’s mouth, letting his lips drag down his neck, and opened his eyes to see Finn kneeling beside them.

Finn looked like he had looked in the kitchen, flushed as he leaned forward to kiss Logan quiet again, only dragging his mouth out of Logan’s reach to kiss Leo.

“Your knee,” Logan panted. “Don’t—” He broke off, watching them kiss. “Don’t kneel like that…”

Finn didn’t reply, but Leo made a concerned sound and pulled back.

“O’Hara,” he said sternly.

“Well, then get me off the floor.”

“You pushed,” Logan said.

Finn rolled his eyes and stood up with a groan. Logan hooked an elbow around his legs, keeping him there so he could press kisses to the scar. When he looked up, mouth on his skin still, Finn looked more flushed than before. Logan thought it was him, but then he noticed Leo’s hand, pulling at the strings of Finn’s shorts.

Leo’s teasing smile brought Finn sinking towards them, but Logan wasn’t sure which one of them kissed Leo first.

Time pinned and froze. A note on a door in Finn’s handwriting that Logan might’ve just kept forever. One of Finn’s steamed-up hearts traced through windows at him. Logan wanted to sign his name on the scene in front of him. He wanted to magnet it on a fridge, wanted Finn to seal it on that bulletin board he kept in the office with all of their plans. He wanted to fold it up and keep it in his wallet. He wanted a video, a grainy one that would smudge Leo’s blue eyes as he looked up at Finn with his fingers digging into his pale hips.

It was finally dark outside, and Logan wanted to relive the way the three of them had stumbled through the house a thousand times. Finn pushing Leo against a doorframe, Leo stopping Logan with his arms wrapped tight around his waist to kiss him until Logan felt he’d have to ease them down to the floor right there. Finn’s heaving chest in the light coming in through the moon with Leo gasping beneath him was a movie in itself. Logan didn’t know what to do with himself half the time. He ran his fingers over every inch of skin exposed. Kissed the sounds out of Leo’s mouth, watched Finn’s face in a way he’d never gotten to before. He was gorgeous like this, shoulders braced with his hands sinking into their bed, red hair sticking to his temples. Sitting up and back in a way that made Leo’s back arch and let Finn pull Logan under one arm. It wasn’t a kiss he got from Finn exactly, more like he was using Logan to try and catch his breath, to steady himself.

Logan let his eyes slip closed and turned blindly for Finn’s mouth. He felt Leo’s hand on him and reached down to hold his wrist, just to feel the way it moved. Quick and sure with his strokes as he was on the court. When he stretched out along Leo’s side, he could feel the snap of Finn’s hips in the way Leo’s body shivered. They had been giddy earlier, laughing and tumbling, but at one point Logan had been pinned so tight between their bodies that the laughter broke in his throat and some sort of fever had lit inside him. He needed closer and again. He needed them kissing each other over his shoulder and feeling like he’d been drenched over his head in something this sweet smelling.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He swung his leg over Leo’s hips and was up, balanced on Leo’s chest. His world was Leo’s voice, oh, Lo, yes, yes, and Finn’s chest to lean back on once the two of them sent Logan sinking again, plunged him into his own personal, warm, weightless, sea.

Next he knew, their breathing sounded as rhythmic as the AC, and Logan was on his side, but he was sure, somehow, that his head was at the wrong end of the bed. He was warm, though, perfectly so, like someone had thrown the comforter over him. He opened his eyes and found Finn beside him, on his back. He was panting hard, chest rising and falling quickly, and Logan tried to piece out exactly what had made him like that. He meant to lay his palm on Finn’s heart, just to feel, but his muscles didn’t quite obey and he ended up slapping it there, making Finn jump.

“Jesus fuck,” Finn said. His breathing paused as he swallowed around a dry throat, then took up again. His hand covered Logan’s. “Hi. Hi, baby.”

“Leo?”

“Ya,” Leo’s voice came, somewhere from the head of the bed so Logan had to raise his head. He was in a mess of pillows, bare and breathing as hard as Finn was. Logan frowned at him. He felt as calm and serene as morning waters.

“You might have missed some action at the end there,” Finn read his mind. “But you looked so peaceful and…and I just needed…” Finn looked down the bed at Leo and laughed. “Well, that one more time. Jesus, Knut.”

Leo grinned and let his head fall back into the pillows.

Logan pushed himself up onto his forearms and tried to shake some of the fog from his head. He hadn’t been asleep exactly. Just…everything had felt good. The sheets. Their hands. Their sounds. He remembered, now that he was thinking about it, feeling safe with their warm voices right there, their hands on him even as they were drawn together. Finn’s gentle words, separated by kisses Logan hadn’t quite been able to open his eyes to look at. You know you read the signs right. You know you did. We’ve wanted you. You should have seen Lo the first time we really talked about it, I thought he was ready to go and find you right then. The way he lights up whenever you call. The way he quiets on the court when he plays you, you push him so well. I’ve wanted you. I thought I had it all until I watched you walk right up at that ball and ask to dance. Oh my God, you’re brave, you’re brave, of course we want you.

Already, Logan knew when one of them was missing. He could feel it when he woke up sometime later. He heard the bathroom door squeak slightly and opened his eyes. Finn was asleep, rolled onto his other side with the sheets slung low across his hips. Leo had pulled boxers on and was crossing back from the bathroom. Leo saw he was awake and jogged over to him quicker, making Logan laugh and check to make sure he hadn’t woken Finn. When he turned back, Leo was sliding back under the sheets and Logan shuffled over to press close to him. Sharing a pillow like he’d done a thousand times with Finn.

“Your blue eyes look different in the dark.”

“Hm,” Leo whispered back. “Different how?”

“I don’t know, I like it, though.” He ran a hand up and down Leo’s bare side. It was cool, no lingering warmth from the bed. “You’ve been up?”

Leo sighed and shrugged like he was resigned to it. Logan inched closer. This was new.

“I know all about your routines and your days,” Logan whispered. “But I don’t know about your nights.”

“Guilty insomniac here,” Leo whispered, then smiled. “Sure you still want me?”

“Shh,” Logan soothed. “Of course I do.” Leo humphed and pushed his cheek into the pillow, but his eyes did flutter closed as soon as Logan began rubbing his back. “Of course we do…”

“I was mostly joking,” Leo whispered. “I just—I don’t know, something keeps me up.”

“You’re worried about something?”

“No, no,” Leo said. “I mean, sometimes that’s it. Mostly, it’s just—there. I’m just awake.”

“What can I do?” Logan asked. He traced a thumb over Leo’s full bottom lip. “I’ll do anything.”

That soft mouth smiled right into Logan’s touch. “I know you would, sweetheart.”

“Pst, pst, pst, pstpstpstpstssst,” Finn grumbled suddenly, then rolled over to press against Logan’s back, throwing an arm over him to reach Leo. “I’m getting you up for a run at six, go to sleep.”

Leo gasped even before Logan could. “You are not.”

“Now it’s five for talking back.”

“It’s three in the morning right now. We’ve been asleep for two hours.”

“Maybe we should just get up now then,” Finn said, and Logan could feel that teasing grin.

Logan elbowed Finn gently in the ribs. “Go away, no cuddling for you.”

Finn just tossed a leg over them, and Logan watched Leo’s eyes brighten as Finn peppered a dozen hard kisses over Logan’s neck and shoulder.

“Oh, baby, you don’t know how to send me away, nu-uh,” Finn whispered. Logan felt a weak little tug of arousal in his gut, not enough to be urgent, but, God, Finn. Finn would always do Finn things to him. Then, just as suddenly as he’d woken, Finn was leveraging himself over both of them and locking Leo between their bodies. “But my Leo’s not being sleepless, not on my watch.”

“Hm,” Leo said softly, eyes slipping closed. He let Finn tuck his knees up behind his own, let Logan stretch his arm out under his head to act as a pillow instead. “Well…If there was ever a place I could sleep…”

“It’s right here,” Finn whispered, lips against Leo’s shoulder. His brown eyes flit to Logan. “It’s right here.”

“Can I have some of those peppers?”

“What…” Logan and Finn looked at each other. “What peppers?”

“Those,” Leo said softly.

“Peppers,” Finn repeated to himself, then laughed. “Oh, peppers.”

He started slow, placing gentle kisses to Leo’s neck, then got faster as he reached his jaw and cheek.

“Peppers,” Logan mumbled, watching Leo’s pleased smile.

Logan settled a kiss on the corner of Leo’s mouth and blinked in the blinding, rolling urge to tell Leo that he loved him. Now, before their breathing all evened out and he’d have to wait. But Leo was falling into a lull again and Logan didn’t want to ruin that. On Leo’s hip, Finn’s fingers found his and locked tight. Finn squeezed once, twice, brown eyes so dark and deep in the night. Logan squeezed back, hard, finally understanding.

#on the line lumosinlove #o'knutzy #finnlo #lelo #sunfish #tennis au #o'knutzy week 2024

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whore-era · 2 years ago

Text

affinity - part 1

ellie williams x fem!reader

themes: angst, pining, best friends, unrequited love

summary: after being in love with your best friend for years, one drunken night changes everything.

a/n: this was torture to write. apologies in advanced.

word count: 3,689

1/3

“god, i’d give up my left leg to eat right now. i’m starving.” you groan out, the rumbling in your stomach erupting on cue.

ellie lets out a laugh, “you finished your sandwich already?” she packs her backpack with perishable canned foods, flinging it over her shoulder.

“hey, i didn’t have breakfast before i left this morning,” you defend, your eyes scanning the empty shelves of the abandoned food mart. not much, as usual. “the sandwich was tempting me.”

your best friend shakes her head, “what do i always tell you? ya gotta eat, you stubborn girl. we’re out here— running and fighting for our lives—6 to 8 hours everyday.”

“sorry, mother, won’t do it again,” you stick your tongue out to her, earning a glare from the green-eyed girl.

“c’mon, let’s get outta here and call it a day.” she says opening the front door, waiting for you. you nod and tuck the gun in the waistband of your jeans, walking towards the entrance. your untied shoelaces cause you to trip over your own feet, and you prepare yourself to face-pan on the floor, looking like a complete fool. but the moment never comes, as you feel strong arms catch you mid-fall.

you look up, making eye contact with those jade-green orbs you fell in love with all those years ago. she looks back at you, searching your face for any sign of injury. clearing your throat, you get back on your feet, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“sorry. you know me, such a clutz,” you sputter out nervously, laughing to ease the tension as you both walk toward the two horses. “nah, no worries. but i do think you purposely leave your shoes untied just so i can catch you.”

“you wish, williams.” you retort, a false sense of confidence in your tone. hoisting yourself up on your horse, sunshine, you tug on the leads to begin the journey back to town.

ellie appears next to you, shimmer strolling alongside sunshine, looking breathtaking in the setting sun of wyoming. your heart flutters, and for a brief second, you think you’re having a heart attack. you would think after being best friends with ellie williams for five years that you would get used to seeing her face everyday, but that wasn’t the case for you at all.

it began slow, when you noticed the way your heart would pick up when she smiled at you or when you found yourself thinking of dumb puns just so you could hear her laugh. but you knew it was over for you when you found it hard to breathe after she accidentally kissed you after having one too many beers that she sacked from joel when you were both 15. it led you right to this moment, with a 5-year long crush and unrequited feelings for your oblivious best friend.

i mean, who could blame you? ellie williams was to die for. she was strong, brave, outgoing, charming, witty, protective, intelligent, and — well, it’d take you forever to list off everything amazing about her. there was about a handful of girls in town that feel the same way you do about ellie, and you were just lucky to bear witness to the numerous flings that ellie had with them, sarcasm included. fortunately for you, they never usually ended up in anything serious, as ellie was never really interested in being anything more than ‘special friends’, if you could catch her drift.

as for you, you never really attempted to look for anything with anyone else. anyone who showed any interest in you, which was not many people, faced rejection. it was sad enough to admit, but you were okay just being ellie’s best friend, even if it meant seeing her with other girls.

“i’m serious,” ellie chuckles, “you’re always eating shit and falling over, dude.” she shakes her head, “how did maria even approve you for patrol?”

“hey! i’ll have you know that she’s very impressed with my artillery skills,” you retort, earning an eye roll from your best friend.

“whatever, man, whatever helps you sleep at night,” she laughs, “speaking of maria, heard she’s having that party tonight?”

you hum in agreeance, admiring the setting sun glowing lavender and magenta on the white snow. “you gonna go?”

“hmm, maybe. dina and i were thinking about making an appearance— to gossip and drink, that typ’a stuff,” you respond, looking over at the auburn-haired girl. ellie was silent for a moment, seeming deep in thought.

“i think i’m gonna go with cat.”

your heart fell to your stomach. cat was ellie’s latest fling. they’ve been talking and messing around for almost a month, and by now, ellie would’ve quit whatever situation she had going on with her, but she didn’t.

“oh. really?”

“yeah. i like being around her, she’s cool and funny and gorgeous and she listens to cool music and— and i think you’d really like her, you both would get along.” ellie dotes, eyes all sparkly. yeah, i’d highly doubt we’d get along, but i’d certainly try for you though, els. you blink back tears, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve, pretending to brush dirt off your face.

this was the only thing you despised about being her best friend. she confided in you for everything, especially about the girls she was with. your heart cracked a bit everytime, which always ended up with you laying in bed at four in the morning, crying because of the girl you loved, but couldn’t have.

you stayed silent, too silent. your brain worked quickly to think of something to say before ellie suspected anything out of the ordinary.

“i bet.” you murmured, relieved by the sight of the gates appearing in the far distance. you wanted nothing more than to run back home and scream into your pillow. god, this whole one-sided crush thing was pathetic.

“i just— she’s different, you know? we talk for hours and hours and it’s never weird or anything, dude.” ellie rambles, and for once in your life, you wanted her to shut up, but you couldn’t bear to say that to her. “i think i’m gonna ask her to be my girlfriend — tonight, at the party.”

air caught up in your trachea, absolutely stunned by her statement.

“what happened to her ‘just being a fling?’” you cleared your throat, trying to hide the tears building up. you wanted nothing more than for a hole to open up in the ground so it can swallow you up in a black darkness — along with sunshine, so you had a companion.

“man, fuck that,” she scoffs, “cat is just..something else.”

you feel tears about to spill from your eyes, “well, congratulations, els. i am so happy for you.”

the worst thing about this whole thing was you were truly happy for her — well you tried your hardest to be. being a good friend meant supporting and being happy for the people you love, no matter what your feelings were.

you knew you were about to burst into tears, so you made a break for it, clicking your tongue and signaling sunshine to sprint towards the gates. you could hear ellie yelling behind you, but you didn’t care, you just wanted to be alone.

the guards opened the gates, allowing you in as sunshine began to slow down to a steady gallop, ellie following shortly behind. with a swiftness, you got off of sunshine and handed her lead to one of the stable boys, muttering a quick ‘thank you’ before quickly stalking off towards your home. your thoughts of wanting to be buried under the thick covers to cry for hours were interrupted as a firm hand grabbed your arm.

“hey!” ellie snapped, looking annoyed as you turned around, “what the fuck was that? you ditched me back there.”

you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to conjure up a dumb excuse. “sorry, i- uh- really needed to use the bathroom,” your hand rubbed your stomach, “don’t think the sandwich is sitting well.”

ellie narrows her eyes, and for a second you think she doesn’t believe you, but that disappears once her nose scrunches up and she laughs, “ewww,” she cringes, “go on then.”

you give a weak smile and turn around to continue your trek. maybe you could’ve handled that better. you did leave her alone, even if it was for second, but ellie would’ve never done that to you. letting out a groan, you rub your forehead, “ugh, i’m so stupid.” you whisper to yourself.

feeling guilty, you stop and turn to apologize to ellie for running off, but your heart breaks into two at what you see — ellie pressing cat up against the stables, her lips busy against hers, and you wished you never turned around at all.

“dinaaaaaaaaaaa, i need another one pleaseee,” you drag out your words, slamming the glass against the table. the brunette sighed, taking your glass away from you.

“i don’t think you should be having another one.” dina suggests, and while the sober version of you would’ve agreed, the intoxicated version of you protested.

“no! i need it, deens,” you whine out, “please. m’going through heartbreak right now.” you pout, and point to your boob, totally missing the place where your heart should be. dina rolls her eyes, eventually giving in and pouring you your fourth glass of whiskey.

your eyes light up, taking the glass and lifting it up, “cheeeeeers!!” you hurrah, before downing the glass in one gulp and slamming it down again.

dina sighs, glancing at jesse, who was almost..startled? he was mostly shocked at how many glasses of whiskey you were able to run through your system in a span of an hour and a half.

two hours before you arrived to maria’s party, after getting ready, you made a plan. a terrible, horrible plan, but it was a plan that you thought would be best — for everybody.

after spending most of the afternoon after patrol feeling sorry for yourself and crying for three hours, you wiped your tears and decided enough was enough, you had to get over these stupid feelings you had for ellie. you didn’t want to sabotage her new relationship with cat, so you thought it’d be a good idea to distance yourself from her instead.

it was unbearable for you to be around her already, without having the temptation to kiss her everytime you looked at her.

but seeing her with a girlfriend? you’d rather throw yourselves to a horde of runners for them to snack on like a delicious jumbo pack of beef jerky.

after creating your little plan, you dressed in your best and did your hair, and decided to add a little cherry on top of your plan by forgetting any and all feelings about ellie williams by getting absolutely shit-faced with hard liquor — your new bff.

two hours later, here you were, begging dina for a fifth glass. “pleeeeeeaaasseee, i’ll- i’ll- i’ll do your laundry for a month!” you bargained.

“as tempting as that sounds, no! you’re gonna puke your guts out in the morning— you’ll be thanking me for not giving you another drink,” she says, twisting the cap on the glass bottle, earning a pout from you.

“dina, i’ll do anything! i just- i just- wanna forget all about ellie,” you sigh, looking across the bar at cat, who’s sitting alone, possibly waiting for ellie to arrive. tears prick the corner of your eyes, and you look away, putting your face in your hands, “this hurts so bad.”

not even liquor can make you forget about ellie williams and how her name was permanently etched onto your heart for infinity.

dina scootches her chair next to you, pulling you into a side hug, and you weep into her shirt. she glances at jesse, and all they could feel for you was sympathy, knowing well how strongly you felt about ellie. it was clear to everyone, but ellie, how much you loved her. everyone advised you to tell just ‘tell her how you felt’ and you never listened to them, always saying it’d make your friendship too complicated.

but a part of you right now felt like you should’ve listened, feeling dejected by the thought of missing the only opportunity you had to be with her.

“i’m gonna go see if i can get maria to make her something to eat,” dina says standing up to step away towards the bar, “make sure she doesn’t have any more drinks.”

jesse’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s now left to babysit you.

dina leans on the barside tables, “maria!”

the older lady turns around as she pours a drink and sets it on the table for one of the customers to take, “hey, dina,” she greets, throwing a towel over her shoulder, “what can i get ‘ya?”

“just a water and a little something to eat,” dina orders.

“sure thing. we could whip up a quick sandwich or we also have peanuts or chips in the back, take your pick.”

the brunette thinks for a second, “uhh, just give me whatever’s convenient. it’s not for me anyways, it’s for her,” dina nods towards you, her eyes widening as she sees you chugging the brown liquor from the glass bottle, with jesse attempting to pry the bottle from your hands. maria laughs and shakes her head.

“what’s her deal tonight?”

“uh, heartbreak,” dina mutters, rubbing the back of her neck, “ellie told her she was gonna ask cat to be her girlfriend tonight when they were out during patrol.”

the older woman sighs, looking down and grabbing the towel from her shoulder to wipe the sticky table. “they both have to fess up already, or else they’re both gonna lose each other.”

dina’s brows furrow, “what do you mean?”

“yeah, sure, everyone knows she loves ellie. anyone can see it,” maria pauses, “but if you focus hard enough on those two, you can see that ellie is just as head over heels for her, if not more. hell, i don’t even think she’s realized it herself.” maria bends down and opens a small fridge, taking out a wrapped sandwich.

“you think so?”

“i know so.” maria puts a cup of ice water on the table alongside the wrapped sandwich, before taking the next customers order.

with the glass of water and sandwich in hand, dina returns back to the table, greeted by the sight of you and jesse fighting over the liquor bottle.

“i will put my fist up your butt if you don’t give me that back!” you shout as jesse’s grip doesn’t budge from the shiny bottle.

“you’ve had enough, you little monster!” jesse yells as he gives another hard yank to the bottle, breaking it from your grip. dina lets out a laugh, before she sits down next to you, pulling you down with her so you can take a seat, but you trip over and nearly miss the chair entirely.

“whoops,” you giggle, completely plastered.

steadying yourself and sitting on the hardwood chair, dina holds the glass of water up towards your lips, “drink up.”

you take a sip of water, and cower at the bland taste, “heeeyy, this isn’t whiskeeee,” you whine.

“you need it, so you don’t wake up all sick and stuff,” dina says, attempting to persuade you to drink more water and sway you away from any ideas of sipping on alcohol again.

“no, i don- i don’t need that,” you garble, “what i do need is- is- is ellie.”

at the mention of ellie’s name again, you break out into tears. this was the night that jesse and dina realized you were an extremely, emotional drunk.

“okay, that’s it,” jesse says standing up, “we’re taking you home.”

you gasp, “no! i promise no more drinks!” you attempt to hold onto the table, but to no avail, jesse easily gets you on your feet and holds you steady on your left side.

“c’mon, dina, take her other side.” dina goes to your right and puts her arm around your waist, making sure you have no chances of slipping out of her grip.

“pleeeeaaassseee, don’ let them take me away!!” you shout to the bystanders as jesse and dina drag you away from the event and towards the doors of the bar, gaining some stares and laughs from the other partygoers.

as the cold, winter night air hits you in the face, the three of you are greeted by the person you wanted so badly to forget about tonight.

“uh, hey, guys,” the green-eyed girl greets, “leaving already?”

jesse and dina look at each other nervously, with you still in their hold. “yup, someone partied too hard.” jesse says, laughing a little bit too awkwardly.

ellie takes you in, glancing at your inebriated state; eyes all hazy and glossed over, letting out little giggles here and there, and can barely stand on their own two feet.

“so, if you don’t mind, we’ll be taking her home,” dina clears her throat, “jesse get her keys.” jesse quickly lets go of you, sending you stumbling over to the side, bringing dina along with you.

ellie rushes over to your side and snakes her arm around your waist, holding you close to her body. butterflies erupted in your stomach once again. even in your extremely drunken condition, your body knew how to respond when ellie was around.

jesse pats your pockets, and doesn’t feel anything, “nothing, she doesn’t have her keys.”

“hehe, i think i forgot them. dunno where they are,” you giggle, feeling all warm and drowsy all of a sudden, and your head leans over to the side, coincidentally on ellie’s shoulder.

“shit. how the fuck do we get her home and in bed then?” dina sighs out.

“i’ll take her back to mine and let her sleep over.” ellie decides without a second thought, taking your arm and putting it over her shoulder.

dina’s hesitant, “you sure? you just got here.”

“of course. don’t want her getting hurt or ending up god knows where,” ellie lets out a laugh, “just do me a favor and tell cat i’ll make it up to her tomorrow.”

the pair both nod and head back in the bar, whereas you were too busy looking at ellie’s face and how all her features looked perfect in the soft glow of the lights shining through the windows from the bar.

“you have greeeen eyes,” you comment, your eyes in total awe as ellie guides you back to her shed.

“yup, i do,” ellie laughs, amused by your drunk comments.

“my best friend has greeeen eyes,” you slurred out, “you kin’a look like her.”

“yeah?”

“mmmhhhmmm, her- her name is ellie and she’s the best,” you smile at the thought of ellie, completely unbeknownst that she was the one holding onto you, “i-i love her.”

“i’m sure ellie loves you too,” ellie assures. you shake your head.

“nuh uh, she doesn’t,” you counter, “ellie loves me. i love love ellie.”

the girl laughs, “what? love love? what does that mean?”

“i’m in looooove with ellie, dumb dumb.”

ellie stops in her tracks, causing you to retract and fall back, sending her on top of you. ellie was astounded, barely registering the fact that you’re both on the snow.

“what?” maybe ellie heard incorrectly. you were drunk and babbling nonsense, but she still had to make sure.

“i,” you point to yourself, “am in love with ellie williams.” you manage to let out clearly, wincing from the melted snow seeping into your clothes. ellie gets up on her feet and pulls you up, brushing the snow off your clothes and hair.

“you’re just- you’re just drunk.” ellie tries to find some explanation to all of this, and that was the most rational one she could think of. she secures her arm onto you again, continuing the short walk to her place.

“nope, nope, nope,” you shake your head, “i have been in loveee with ellie for— one, two, three, four, five— five years!” you count your fingers. “but, she doesn’t love me back.”

you begin to cry again, nestling your face into her chest. still unaware you were with ellie, the very person you were crying over, “she told me she was gonna- she was gonna-” you pause to wipe your tears, “she was gonna ask cat to be her girlfriend.”

ellie’s heart tore at the sight of one of the most important people in her life crying, and it was all because of her. she didn’t know what to think, she wanted to believe that you were saying all this stuff because you were drunk, but a part of her doesn’t believe it — a drunk man’s words is a sober man’s thoughts.

rumaging in her pockets, she took her key out as you both neared her shed. her arm still secured around your waist, ellie unlocked her door and hauled you over her bed, pulling the blankets back, and sitting you down on the sheets.

ellie’s mind was running a mile a minute, thinking about your confession minutes prior, but she was still intent on taking care of you. she bent down to untie your shoes and tie your hair out of your face, ensuring you’d be more comfortable sleeping this way.

pouring some extra water she had in a cup, she brings it towards your lips, “open.” you obey her command and part your lips, taking small sips of water, your eyes having difficulty staying open as you began to feel sleepy.

ellie placed the cup on the nightstand and she gently laid you back in her bed, pulling a blanket over you. before she knew it, you were out like a light, gentle snores coming from your mouth.

ellie let out a heavy sigh and sat down on her couch, unable to shake the events that took place tonight — any ides of making cat her girlfriend fading further and further away from her mind.

affinity - part 2 here

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie x reader angst #ellie x fem!reader

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dancingtotuyo · 10 months ago

Text

7. when she lets me call her mine

Woman | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: a year passes through Jackson

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: angst, blood, grief (loss of a sibling, loss of a child), trauma, anxiety

Notes: Once again, thank you to @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading this! I appreciate all your comments and feedback, and I love you both so much!

Words: 8311

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

Joel coaxes you awake the next morning. Your room is bright with sunshine. He’s dressed in his clothes from last night, smelling like your soap. Your body protests, wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep until the end of time. You groan burrowing into your pillow, making him chuckle. Then, the events of last night come flooding back. Adrenaline shoots through your body as you shoot up. Your head spins a little. “Maria?”

“She’s awake. Doc Pooley stopped by this morning, said she looks good so far.” Joel wraps an arm around you, tugging you closer. “Just wanted you to know.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Sweetheart.”

You pick at the buttons on his shirt as you remember it all. “For last night. Everything.”

Your temple rests against his forehead. His steady breathing calms you until the two of you are in unison. Joel kisses your head. His fingertips brush across your thigh.

“I want to go over there.”

“Tommy said we’re welcome anytime. I think he feels better having you there.”

“Do I look as atrocious as I feel?” You turn to him.

Joel chuckles, shaking his head. “Got some big bags under your eyes, and some gnarly morning breath.”

“Gnarly? Really?”

“Only the best of words for you.” Joel winks. “I’ll get you some breakfast while you get ready.”

“Thank you.”

Maria is sitting up when you get there. Her eyes are bloodshot, her shoulders sag with exhaustion, but she’s alive, and she looks a hell of a lot better than she did the night before. The baby lays contently on her chest. She smiles at you over his head. “If it isn’t my guardian angel.”

Your chest quivers with relief as you ease beside her, perching on the edge of the mattress. Out of the corner of your eye, Joel gives Tommy a delayed but obligatory congratulatory handshake.

“I’m just happy to see you awake.”

“You look like shit.” Maria teases.

“Oh, I look like shit?” You raise an eyebrow. “Look in a mirror.”

Maria laughs softly, successfully hiding the cringe of pain behind it. “I’m never leaving this bed.”

“Bullshit.” Tommy crosses his arms. “She was tryin’ to get out of bed this mornin.”

You smile, eyes roaming over Maria, searching for any signs of something wrong. You can’t find any, but it hardly eases your anxiety.

Maria squeezes your hand. “If something felt wrong, I would tell you.”

“Promise?”

She nods, a smile spreading across her face as her eyes flicker to her sleeping newborn. “I have someone dependent on me now.”

“He’s not the only one dependent on you,” You say with a sigh. When you look down at Jackson’s newest addition, you can’t help but smile either. “Though he may be the cutest.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Maria runs a hand over his tuft of dark curls. “You wanna hold him?”

You nod, carefully taking the infant into your arms. Other than the brief moment when you’re delivering a baby, you haven’t held one this small since Carter was born. “Does he have a name yet?”

“Yes,” Maria smiles at Tommy. He places a hand on her shoulder. Your heart swells every time you see them like this. As much as Maria championed your relationship with Gabe, you did for her with Tommy. “Meet Elias Joel Miller.”

“What?” It seems to tumble out of Joel’s mouth automatically. “Now why would you do a thing like that?”

“Maria wouldn’t be here without you,” Tommy says. You swear you see the sparkle of tears in his eyes.

Joel clears his throat, eyes moving between his nephew and brother. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I think they’re capable of deciding what to name their child, Joel.” You grin, pressing a kiss to Elias’s head. “Now come hold your nephew.”

Maria’s recovery isn’t easy. It takes a lot of time, more than either of you anticipate. You spend days at her house and nights on the couch, caring for her when Tommy is on patrol. Eventually, slowly, she returns to full strength. She cares for her son and husband and all of Jackson with the same grace, strength, and capabilities as before. When she does, she kicks you out of her home with a grin.

It’s gradual at first, the way you pull away. Joel chalks it up to Maria’s close call, the amount of time you spend caring for her and Elias.

As the air begins to cool, you ask to walk alone. Joel picks it up the moment he meets you on the porch that night. He sees the distance in your eyes. Kissing your forehead, he crosses the street to his home without so much as a word. You’re relieved despite the dull ache in your chest.

You toss and turn that night. Your thoughts race with anxiety. The fall air seems especially chilly without Joel there to keep you warm.

Joel joins you the next night, but you’re quiet, too quiet. He tries, bless his heart, to keep it light and cheerful doing his best to pull you from the sea of thoughts. Despite his best efforts, you only give him brief sounds and one-word answers. When he wraps his arms around you that night, you don’t lean in.

None of it surprises him. He expects it. He would’ve done the same thing this time last year. What he doesn’t expect is the gaping ache in his chest as he watches it happen a little more each day like the autumn leaves falling from trees. The tighter he holds on, the more you slip through his fingers. So he takes the opposite approach. He keeps his distance. He stops meeting you in the middle of the road. He only comes over when you ask.

You expect the space to grant you relief, but it only gets harder to breathe. You toss and turn at night. The bed is empty. You’ve grown accustomed to having Joel next to you. There’s no clarity to your thoughts, no sense to your actions. The push and pull is tiring: missing Joel but not letting him too close.

You step onto your porch on a Friday in mid-October. You’ve walked alone, slept alone for almost a week. The only time you’ve seen Joel are the afternoons Carter asks to spend with him.

Joel sits on his porch, leaning back in a rocking chair. His guitar is propped on his knee. It stops you in your tracks, stealing your breath. He’s had the unstrung guitar in his home since June, but now, even from across the street, you clearly see several silver strings running across the frets. A couple of bright notes bridge the gap between you.

Instead of stepping into the street and setting along your beaten trail, your bottom hits the wooden step. You stare across the street, transported to 20 years ago when you and Joel lived across from one another the first time. Even at the end of the world, some things never change. You remember him sitting on his porch in the Austin suburb, the same angle to his recline, fingers playing over the strings. You used to open your bedroom window at night, straining to hear the faint rifts he played. Sometimes, his voice drifted through your curtain as you pined for a man who very rightfully, never looked your way. Those were your favorite nights.

Tonight, you don’t watch in secret. You don’t have to strain to hear the melody coming off the strings. You spent too much time wanting Joel, and he’s yours to have if you can only shake the fear away. It seems silly that the world ended and you somehow ended up with the only thing you wanted before it did. Now, you’re in self-destruct mode. You don’t know how to stop it. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you continue to watch Joel and his guitar without embarrassment.

Joel clocks you the moment you step out. He watches you from his periphery at first, surprised when you take a seat on the steps instead of going for your walk. He plucks at the strings refamiliarizing himself with the instruments after decades of separation. He’s only been able to find 4 good strings, but it is enough for now. The taught strings feel like therapy beneath his fingers connecting him with something unseen.

Joel continues to pick out the melody, becoming more confident with each play-through. He misses a few notes due to his missing strings, but something about it tugs at the strings of familiarity.

Finally, you stand, crossing the street. Joel doesn’t look up when you make it to his porch. Resting against the railing, he plucks away as the melody finally hits you. You’re embarrassed at how long it takes you to recognize it. Landslide. Memories flood your mind. You ran that cassette until it busted. When the Dixie Chicks put out their cover in ‘02, you and Sarah played it on repeat.

You focus on Joel’s fingers, the words forming in your head as he closes out the song. He leaves the guitar on his lap. Your arms fold over your chest, and his warm brown eyes reach yours.

The breeze catches your hair. You bite your lip, yet Joe doesn’t say a word. “I love that song.”

“I know.”

You raise an eyebrow. He chuckles. “You played that song on repeat for a week, Sweetheart. Sarah forced me to learn it.”

“Like you didn’t already know it, old timer.”

Joel pushes back a laugh, propping the guitar against the house. You catch the tension in his shoulders. Guilt shoots through you. You want to crack open his thoughts and curl into his brain. Is he upset? Hurt? Does he think you’ve come to call this thing off? This thing you’ve never labeled. Does he want to call it off after your actions?

“I’m sorry.”

Joel quirks a brow.

“For pulling away.” You add.

Joel lets out a deep sigh as he stands. Worry floods your body. You have succeeded. You pushed him away, and this is where things end. He steps forward. His body heat cuts through the fall chill. His fingers brush across your cheek and over your ear. Your head tilts into his palm.

“Joel-” You whisper.

“I’ve missed you.”

His words cut all the anxiety from you with a surgeon's precision. “I missed you too.”

He kisses you, tentative and understanding. It doesn’t silence your fears but gives you the budding courage to face them. Joel’s fingers curl around your face. His flannel is soft in your clenched fists. As you tug him closer, a grin spreads across your face.

Joel trails his hands down your back and over your ass. He wants to tell you so much more. He wants to tell you that he’s more than missed you. His arms have ached without you. He wants to tell you you feel like coming home, that if he never spends another night without you, it won’t be enough. He wants to scream from the rooftops that he’s yours and he wants you to be his, but he knows that all of that will send you running. He still sees the fear in your eyes.

Instead, he presses you against him, opening your mouth with his tongue. For the sake of not giving the whole town a show, he pulls you inside, dragging you to his bedroom.

The cold winds blow in and snowflakes drift about the sky as you follow Carter from house to house on Halloween night. He’s happily escorted by Ellie and Dina, relishing in their attention. The bright orange of Reese’s wrappers and red of Kitkats might be gone, but the town of Jackson knows how to improvise. Homemade sweets fill baskets and pillowcases. Joel walks alongside you, hand in yours. He wears an easy smile, one that keeps you warm as the sun sets behind the mountains.

“Remember the year Sarah convinced you to come trick or treating with us?” A faint grin spreads across Joel’s face.

“I remember all my Mr. Goodbars missing when I got home.”

Joel laughs. “Sarah always liked those.”

“Pretty sure it wasn’t Sarah I left unattended with my pillowcase.” You roll your eyes. “And she was more of a Reese’s girl.”

“Pretty sure 18-year-olds weren’t supposed to go trick or treating.”

“Touché,” You smile.

Joel presses a kiss to the back of your hand before furrowing his brow. “Your hands are freezing, Sweetheart.”

“It’s snowing outside, of course, they are.”

“Wanna go back to my house? I can start a fire.” Joel grins. Since the weather had turned, you spent more time at his house due to the beautiful fireplace in his living room and your home’s lack of. Evenings spent in front of his fireplace are some of your favorites.

“We’ve only made it through half the houses.”

“I think Ellie and Dina are fine with Carter. He doesn’t even know we’re here.” Joel points. It’s true. He adores the ground those two walk on.

You bite your lip, torn between seeing the rest of the evening out and the promise of Joel’s fireplace. Carter’s nose is tinged with red from the chill, but his grin is unbeatable. Joel’s breath is warm on your ear. “Made up your mind.”

“Promise it doesn’t make me a bad mom?”

“I promise.” Joel laughs.

You double-check with the girls, making sure they know they can bring him back to the house at any time. They assure you it’s fine and then Joel drags you off.

He has the fire burning in no time, casting an orange glow across the room. He sits down next to you, an overly full glass of whisky to share. Your legs rest over his thighs as he runs his fingers over your shoulder. “Warmer?”

You sip on the glass, handing it to him. “In more ways than one.”

Pressing the glass to his lips, he chuckles. “Gone are the days of subtlety I suppose.”

“I don’t need subtlety anymore.” Your head rests on his shoulder, tracing the seams of his jeans.

He kisses your head. “Wanna raid Carter’s candy when he gets back?”

You grin. “Isn’t that the point of being a parent?”

Snow begins to pile up. The holiday season is upon Jackson. As you exit the clinic one day, it hits you, literally, in the back of the head. Cold and icy, some of it drips down your skin. You spin around, met with Ellie’s apologetic grin.

“Oops.”

You furrow your brow, a teasing glimmer in your eye. “Gotta work on your aim there, Ellie.” Your bag drops to the ground, hands meeting the cold snow.

“I didn’t throw it.” Her grin grows as she slowly backs away.

“Oh?” You take care to form the snowball, calling on your years of travel softball. “You need to get better at lying.”

“Duck!” someone yells. You manage to and the snowball hits Ellie square in the face. A laugh grows in your chest as Jesse appears around the corner, a handful of snow ready to stuff down the back of Ellie’s shirt.

“Ellie, move!” instead of sending it her way, you barely graze Jesse’s head.

Before you know it, you’re pulled into their war. Your hands go numb. Snow finds itself in places it should never be, melting from your body heat. Most importantly, you’re having fun in ways you haven’t for a long long time.

Two strong arms wrap around you. They’re Joel’s. You would know them anywhere. His laugh echoes in your ear. Then, he’s pulling you down into a snow drift. Your coat rides up, cold snow pressing into your back. You squeal, trying to wiggle free, but he keeps you pinned.

“You jackass!” You thrash under him.

He laughs. “You should learn to pick on people your own age.”

“They started it!”

Snow smashes on the back of Joel’s neck. He yells, spinning around. You’re forgotten as Ellie laughs, running away. “You little twirp!” Joel yells and then a snowball collides with his face.

“See what I mean?” You stumble onto your feet, the ghost of the cold still pressed against your skin. “They’re asking for it.”

“You flank the left. I’ll take the right.” Joel nods.

The two of you are hopelessly outmanned by the 3 teenagers as snow pelts your face in such quick succession that you can hardly think straight. Within seconds, Joel calls out “Retreat!”

His calloused hand grabs yours, dragging you toward his house like you’re teenagers running from the cops. Laughter spills from both of you the entire way there. Your hands shoot to your knees as you struggle to catch your breath. Joel assumes a similar position.

“Gettin too damn old for that shit,” Joel says, laughter still in his tone.

“But it sure was fun.” You wink.

Joel eases up, his knees and back letting off a string of cracks and pops. You glance over at him, laughter playing in your eyes. He shoots you a look that tells you not to say a word, making you bite your lip. “I’m gonna get a fire going.”

You nod, kissing his cheek. “I’m gonna hop through the shower.”

Joel catches your waist before you dash up the steps, pulling you snug against him. “Give me a real kiss, Woman.”

You crinkle your eyebrows at the name, but Joel lays a breath-stealing kiss on you before you have time to make a comment. Warmth spreads through your body. He pulls away with a grin. Your eyes flutter open, connecting with his eyes and then glancing down to his lips again. ”Sure you won’t join me?”

He groans. “If I do that, we’re not getting out of bed tonight.”

”I don’t see any issues with that.”

He squeezes your ass, giving you another kiss. “Go get showered. I’ll be waiting for you,” he says, practically pushing you towards the steps. You laugh. “And don’t go stealing all my hot water!”

You answer with a laugh.

Carter is in the living room when you come down. Your body hums with warmth from your shower. He sits on Joel’s lap, animatedly recounting something. Even from behind, you can see Joel’s face moving with exaggerated motions. Carter’s vocabulary is getting better with each day to the point where you can put together most of his stories now.

You fall onto the couch, thighs pressed against Joel’s. “Mommy!” Carter launches himself toward you. You barely manage to avoid getting your two front teeth knocked in, kissing his chunky cheeks.

“Carter!” You reply, squeezing him against you.

Before long, Ellie comes stomping in, cheeks rosy from the cold. The four of you eat leftovers in front of the fire, spending time together until Ellie is pulled away by her friends and Carter passes out on the couch. You and Joel stay on the floor, his arm around your shoulders.

“I think I have a problem, Sweetheart.”

The words are like ice water in your veins causing your heart rate to spike and your anxiety with it. You’ve heard those exact words before. ”What’s wrong?”

“I’m getting too used to having you around.”

Your jaw sets, fist colliding with his shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?”

”Scaring the bejesus out of me.”

He kisses your head, hand roaming down your neck and shoulders. “Sorry. Guess I should work on my delivery.”

”Ya think?” You sigh, resting your head back on his shoulder.

It falls silent. Blood rushes behind your ears. The adrenaline courses through your dysregulating body. It’s just words. Joel was just being silly, but your body won’t listen. It won’t settle. You’ve heard those words before. It turns your vision a red you can’t wipe away. Before you know it, your body is shaking. “Fuck.” You barely get it out before you lose control over your body.

Joel’s brow furrows as he cups your cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

Your head shakes as your fingers claw at his jeans, twisting in his shirt, desperate to find stability somewhere. Tears slip from your eyes, flowing over his hands. Fear rushes through Joel. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

You choke it out, barely over a whisper. “Carter.”

”He’s right there.” Joel brings you into his lap, turning you to look at your son’s sleeping frame. “He’s okay.”

You shake your head, sniffing. It hurts to talk like there’s a lump in your throat, your diaphragm constricting in painful ways. “No- my- my brother.”

Joel searches your wet eyes. You’re not here. You’re along the outskirts of Jackson in a place you’ve only alluded to. He knows Carter died. He knows that death left you on your own. He doesn’t have words. He’s not sure you would hear them anyway, so he crushes you against his chest, rocking you back and forth like a mother does to her hurt child until your body stops shaking.

As the tension releases from your body, you weave your fingers through Joel’s. Eventually, you slide down, back against the hard floor, and head on Joel’s thighs. His thumb brushes over your wet cheek as you look at each other. The tears still pour from your eyes, but they don’t try to rip you apart anymore.

The fire has died down, but it’s still warm against your side. The flames dance off Joel’s irises. When you can finally draw a breath without your rib cage rattling, you attempt to speak. “I’m sorry-“

”Don’t.” Joel is soft. “Don’t apologize for it.”

You nod. He keeps brushing his fingers across your face. “I'm ready to talk about it.”

He freezes for a second and then nods.

“Carter was hurt when a group of raiders came through, but they didn’t kill him.”

Joel inhales sharply. You squeeze his hand. “He was hurt and there was nothing I could do.”

The image flashes before your eyes, your baby brother bleeding out slowly on the floor of a place with so many cherished memories. “He bled out so slowly.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“That’s not true.”

“Baby-”

“I could’ve-” You bite down on your lip, on the verge of breaking the delicate skin. “I should’ve helped him.”

“You just said you couldn’t do anything.”

“No- I mean…” Your chest shakes again. “He didn’t have to die like that. Slow and painful. He- Shit.” Your chest aches, tension tight across it.

Joel’s palm lands over your heart. It stays still for a minute and then moves in slow, pressurized motions. It doesn’t make it hurt less, but it eases the band constricting around your rib cage. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

You take one last deep breath and utter the words you’ve only said out loud once before. “He begged me to make it stop, the pain. I knew- I know how to make it quick. He spent hours in pain and I couldn’t bring myself to make it better.”

Hot tears roll down your cheeks again. Joel collects them on his thumbs. “Sweetheart.”

You ease into a sitting position, taking his hand and tracing the lines in his palm “What you said- about thinking you had a problem.”

Joel traces along your hairline, following it behind your ear. “Yeah?”

“He said that to me, right before I saw the blood.”

Joel leans forward, kissing your forehead. Another pocket of tension fizzles away. “I’m sorry.” Another kiss. “But thank you for tellin me.”

You nod, forehead pressed to his, fingers scraping softly at the back of his skull. He kisses your jaw. “Let’s go to bed.”

Joel stands, offering out his hand. You feel a little off-kilter on your feet, but he makes sure you’re steady before gently picking Carter off the couch, careful not to disturb him. Joel takes your hand, leading you upstairs. You tuck Carter into the bed of the spare bedroom. He’s familiar with it by now.

Once you’re in Joel’s room, you shed your clothing, crawling under the cool sheets in just your underwear. Joel slides in behind you, strong arms keep you flush against him, his warm skin pressed against yours.

“Joel…”

“Yeah?”

“When the weather gets nice, I want to go to my grandparent’s place. I want to visit him.”

Joel nods, lips warm against your shoulder. “Whatever you want, Sweetheart. I’ll take you.

The snow drifts melt away. The weather warms. Spring showers bring fresh green and pink buds, the grass growing more vibrant with each day. Birds chirp and the days grow longer. With it, your evening walks return, Joel ever-present beside you except when he’s on patrol.

He spends free days outside of the wall. Your anxiety heightens when he goes out, but something else stirs too. You haven’t been out in years. You had been quickly nixed from the patrol lineup when your medical training had been dubbed too important. Since the walls were completed, you haven’t set foot outside of them. There’s a call, a tug, deep within you. For the first time, you want to leave the safety promised by the tall gates.

You walk the parapet sometimes. During the cold months, the breeze up there stings more, chapping your face. In the summer, it soothes you.

Joel comes back one day with a small bouquet of barely blooming wildflowers. They’re tiny. They look even smaller in Joel’s large hands. He looks almost timid handing them to you. “Ain’t much. They’ll be a lot prettier ones come summertime.”

”These are beautiful.” You smile, taking the delicate buds in your hands.

“It’s the thought that counts,” Joel says, eyes following as you find the best vessel to hold the tender gift.

“That’s what they say.”

Joel crosses his arms, hip resting against the counter. “I was thinkin’.”

”Uh-oh.” You shoot a teasing grin over your shoulder.

He lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “How original of you.”

“I try.” You shrug, setting the flowers on the counter. You mimic his stance. “Now what were you thinkin?”

“That tomorrow would be a good day to go to your grandparents’ place.”

Everything in your body, your heart, your breathing, your brain, stops for a split second. You feel outside of your body as it happens. Joel steps forward, hand gripping your bicep. It snaps you back, eyes locking on his.

“We don’t have to.”

”No.” Blood rushes behind your ears. “I want to. I’m ready.”

“You went white as a ghost, sweetheart.”

You take a deep breath. “I want to, Joel.”

He searches your face, looking for any signs that you’re not. “You sure? I can’t have you floating away like that when we’re out there.”

”I’m sure. I told you I wanted to.”

”Wanting to and ready to are very different things.”

“I’m ready.”

Joel waits a second, weighing the options and your words. He takes a breath. “Okay, we’ll leave at first light tomorrow.”

”Thank you.”

He kisses your forehead, arms wrapping around your shoulders. “I’ll turn us around if you do that, okay?”

Your fingers tangle in the fabric of his worn shirt. “Can’t tell Maria.”

”Gonna have to smuggle you out, huh?”

”Something like that.” You grin.

Joel laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Luckily, I have some experience with that.”

Joel has two horses saddled and waiting at the gate when you approach the next morning. Electricity buzzes in your bloodstream at the thought of stepping out beyond the gate for the first time in years. The air is crisp but promises spring warmth later in the day as birds start to chirp.

“You sure?” Joel asks, reigns in hand.

“Yes,” you grin, taking them as you mount the horse. A rifle sits in the saddle holster. You shift in the saddle, taking a deep breath.

Joel looks up at you, concern evident in his deep brown eyes. He’s worried, maybe even scared. A knife materializes. “Keep this on you. Somewhere accessible.”

You take it, hands warm against his. “I know.”

“This too.” He pulls out a pistol.

You stare at the metal, flickering in the growing sunlight. You know your way around a gun. You’ve been comfortable handling them long before cordyceps. Growing up in Texas made sure of that, but you haven’t had to touch one in too long.

“Darlin.”

You take it from him. “I’m good, Joel.”

“You can get us there?”

“Yup.”

He nods, ensuring you’re secured before mounting his horse. He looks at the gate attendant and they crack the door open just enough for the two of you to slip through.

Wind and sunshine greet you and a huge smile crawls up your face. You kick the horse forward, Joel and his mount keeping pace next to you. The further from Jackson you get, the more you feel the weight start to lift from your shoulders despite the heaviness awaiting you.

Joel sees it. The bits and pieces of your younger self come out in your smile and laughter. Your body seems looser, freer in the open. He makes a note to sneak you out more often.

You take your time, an internal compass guiding you toward the place that kept you safe for so long. The sun warms your back until you slip into the woods. The soft babble of water pulls you deeper. Once you find the brook, you and Joel let the horses lap at the water. ”It’s not far up the mountain from here,” You say. “Probably 30, 40 minutes.”

Joel nods, handing you a canteen. “No rush. We have all day, Sweetheart.”

You tilt your head to the side, accepting it. You hand him two apples. Once for himself. Another for the horse. You can’t help the smile that’s been on your lips all morning. You weren’t expecting to feel this way, but something in your body thrums with life regardless of the fact that you’re close to the place that holds so much of your grief.

”Thank you for doing this.”

Joel hooks a finger through your belt loops, tugging you nearer to him. “Any time. Especially if I get to see you like this.”

”Like what?”

Wracking his brain, he can’t seem to find the right words. His eyes search yours, sunlight filters through the trees, casting yellowish spots across your face. It feels warm and magical. He wants to stay here forever with you, basking in your smile. He wants to make the entire world a place that brings you such peace, blocking out all the bad things, the dark things. The thought of you feeling anything other than what you do right now makes him want to tear each infected limb from limb until the world rights itself. He can’t erase the marks it’s made, but he wants to help them fade because he-

His heart jumps, interrupting the thought before it materializes. His palms go sweaty. Could he think it? Could he say it for something that’s never been defined? Should he say it?

You catch it in his eyes. You don’t know how to explain it, but it’s there for you to read like a book. Anxiety balls up in your stomach. It doesn’t overpower the other feelings coursing through your bloodstream, but it gives you an answer. If he says it, you’ll bolt. You know it.

You step backward, his finger dropping from your belt. “We should keep going.” You turn to the horse, checking that everything is still in place and secure.

Joel nods. He’s not sure what to say. “Sweetheart.”

You swallow, back turned to him. “I can’t give you anything else right now.”

”I know.”

You stay quiet for the rest of your trek following the brook toward the house. The familiar gate fades into view. It kept you protected from more than one group of infected and raiding parties for over 10 years. As you approach the gate, it hits you that you’ve spent just as much time away.

Joel is on alert, keeping watch for any unwelcome parties while trying to stay in tune with you. You dismount before entering through the gate on foot. Joel follows suit. You hitch them to a post, pouring out grain for them to eat.

“This is the Baldwin place?”

You nod. “My mom’s maiden name.”

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a while,” Joel says, easing a door open.

“Patrols use it from time to time. I’m sure stragglers do too.” You follow him in. Joel is focused on making sure it’s clear. You’re not sure you can focus on anything.

The wallpaper has faded in 10 years, a couple of windows are broken here and there, but otherwise, it looks just like you remember it. It’s a mix of comfort and dread.

You let Joel clear the house room by room, leaving the great room for last. You don’t even have to tell him. It’s like he senses it, the way you look at that the door.

Once the rest of the house is clear, you stand at the door. It’s just a room, one that used to bring you joy. It’s one, decade old blood stain. That’s all.

“We don’t have to do this,” Joel says.

You meet his eyes and see nothing but understanding. You wonder if he would ever want to go back to where Sarah was killed, nature washing away her stain long ago. You wish that was the case for Carter, like Gabe’s blood stain in the snow, gone with the spring thaw.

You swallow. “I want to.”

He nods and finally, you twist the door knob. Things are different from what you remember. Furniture has been moved from patrols stopping in. Your grandmother’s rocking chair is missing a leg, likely used for kindling in the big fireplace. It darkens the carpet, right before the hearth, brown and thick. Your attempts at washing it away had been useless.

Your feet take you to it of their own volition. Knees hit the carpet. Your hand spreads over the large stain as tears gather in your arms. It comes out barely a whisper the first time, and then louder the next. “I’m sorry.”

Then your chest begins to shake. It comes out over and over, sorrow and anger all spilling out after suppressing them for years.

Joel’s hand rests against your back and you fall into him, letting it wash over you as years of built-up guilt finally release from your body until finally, you still. There’s no big moment of clarity or understanding, just the gentle ease of acceptance.

An hour later, puffy-eyed and tired, you pull a comforter out of the closet, the oversized one with faded pink rosebuds. To your amazement, it’s relatively untouched by moths. Dust flies free when you shake it out on the deck, sunlight sparkles off the little flecks floating around you almost like fireflies. Memories of stargazing and fireside nights flicker through your brain. Joel’s coughing ruins the slightly magical moment making you laugh.

You settle on it, Joel unpacking lunch. The two of you stay quiet, basking in the sunlight as you eat. You save the strawberries for last, the latest crop just starting to produce in the greenhouse. They’re sweet on your tongue, pushing away the last of the salty tears.

Joel shifts, his thigh pressing against yours. The deck looks over a valley, granting a serene look at the blooming trees and flowers, painting in broad strokes across nature. It's a welcome reprieve after winter, but it makes you realize how bearable this winter felt. It wasn’t a mild winter by any means but, you have him.

Your eyes drift to the man beside you. He’s at ease, leaning back, arms supporting himself. In the bright sunlight, his hair looks a little lighter and his eyes more like honey. You lean over, hand running over the scruff of his cheek, and capture his lips in a soft, languid kiss. A hand slides over your side, easing you closer. A bee buzzes a couple yards away. Birds chirp in the distance. Just through the thicket, a doe wanders through the forest. The kind of noise that feels silent, like time stands still for the two of you.

You feel it, the spark that’s been there for months. Up here, away from the rest of your small world, you can’t feel the trap tightening around you. You’re not sure it is a trap anymore. The flicker of it floats through your brain. The beginnings of those 3 little words. The anxiety flares. Somehow, you force it away with the words. The fuzzy feeling stays. You have Joel. That’s enough for now.

You pull back, his breath fanning across your face. Joel drags his fingertips up and down your forearm. Once again, he feels the words wandering closer to his lips. Not yet. He can’t say them yet.

“What do you want to do?” He asks, eyes fluttering over you. There’s no heat behind them, just the need to be assured that you’re okay, that you’re actually here.

“One more stop before we go home.”

He nods, kissing your forehead. “Whatever you need, Sweetheart.”

You stop under the willow tree. The one your mom planted when she was a kid. The one you buried Carter under. Joel keeps his distance, holding the reigns of both horses.

The dirt is hard, littered with tiny bits of rock and sticks that press into the knees of your jeans. You stare at the small boulder you shoved into place a decade ago. There’s no name, the paint washed away long ago. So many thoughts flood your brain. There’s so much to tell him, so much you wish he could see and know about you.

You tell him about his nephew. He never would have let you live it down knowing you named your son after him. You mention Jackson and the people, Maria mostly, a little about Tommy, and Gabe and Joel. You don’t tell Carter about your feelings with Joel, just that you’re happy and taken care of. Then, you sit in silence as if you expect a response. The silly thing is you do. You expect a sign or a nudge deep in your soul, but there’s nothing. You’re okay with that.

“I’m okay. Surprisingly.” You smile weakly. Taking a deep breath, you rise to your feet.

You stare at the boulder. Then up at the tree. Your parent’s initials are still barely legible in the bark. Your gaze flickers to the house behind you, your home for so long. It’s haunted now.

You feel it in your chest, solid and true. You’ve found all the closure you need. “ This is the last I’ll be here. I’m not coming back.”

Joel’s ears perk up. His head cocks to the side as you approach. He doesn’t ask and you don’t elaborate. Instead, you take the reins, mounting your horse. “Let’s go home.”

Summer brings all of its usual joys and festivities. The outdoor crops grow with the sun. The days are long and filled with hard work, tired bones, and sun-soaked lunch breaks. The flowers start to appear each time Joel leaves Jackson for patrol or pleasure. You watch the bouquets grow in size and variation. Your own measurement of the foliage growth beyond the wall.

June bleeds into July. Maria brings out a cake to celebrate Elias’s first birthday. It seems incomprehensible that you’re a year removed from that night. After everything, it was hardly the worst night of your life, but the fear you felt that night was the culmination of all of it. It still haunts you from time to time.

Joel squeezes your thigh, offering you a smile. Your heart clenches with joy, maybe even peace. It dawns on you that you’ve spent more than a year at his side, walking, talking, not sleeping. He kisses your temple. Across the table, Ellie scrunches her face at the two of you. Carter ogles the cake. Elias babbles happily on Tommy’s knee. Your best friend’s face says it all. She’s the happiest you’ve ever seen her. Looking around the table, you’ve never been more thankful to fall into the trap.

The bed is empty when you wake up one Sunday morning later in the month. The house is already hot, a warm breeze pours through the open window. You’re not used to the empty bed, especially having fallen asleep next to Joel.

You roll over, hand spreading over the sheets. Your eyes follow the trail of sunlight to the window. Joel’s bare back stretches before you as he stares out the glass. The curtain billows softly in the breeze. It gives the air of a peaceful moment, but you know it’s anything but. His muscles are taught across his back.

It takes seconds to settle across you. Last year, he spent the night before at his house. You didn’t even realize what day it was until after lunch. Sarah’s Birthday.

You slip out of the bed, bare feet meet the hardwood. Your hand settles on his shoulder trailing across the expanse of his back down around his waist. He hums softly in acknowledgment.

“Joel…”

He wraps an arm around you, tugging you against him. You oblige, head nuzzling into him. He kisses right above your ear. “Just stay near.”

You stay there until Carter knocks on the door, one of the skills you’ve been diligently working on. You move, but Joel beats you to it, opening the door, scooping the 3-year-old into his arms. Carter giggles. “You want pancakes for breakfast, Bud?”

“Yes!”

Your heart clenches. Joel never liked pancakes, but Sarah loved them.

“Maybe momma will make her special peaches?” Joel turns to face you, his head level with Carter’s.

“Please,” Carter begs.

He and Joel give you puppy dog eyes. Almost impossible to resist. You see the sorrow Joel is pushing back, but something nudges at you. This is what he wants. He wants pancakes with your mom’s peach pie filling, just like Sarah always requested on her birthday.

“I think we can make that happen.”

Ellie bustles in ready for Sunday breakfast soon after. You wonder if she knows what today is. Tommy, Maria, and Elias wander in unannounced but welcomed nonetheless. Elias walks around on unsteady feet, still getting his sea legs under him.

Joel pulls you out of the house after you eat, hand in hand. He doesn’t say anything to Tommy and Maria, leaving you with the impression that this was all planned in advance. Two horses are already saddled. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

“I’m taking you somewhere.” Joel smiles, handing you the reins.

You go in the opposite direction of your last expedition. This ride is quieter, the breeze rustling through the tall grass and the horses’ snorts your only company. You travel over one of the smaller ridges, greeted with a smattering of blues, yellows, and oranges. You pull the horse to a stop in awe of the beauty. Joel smiles back at you.

“Is this where you’ve been gettin all the flowers?”

“They’re at their peak this week. Wanted you to see them.”

He grins. “C’mon.”

You hitch the horses to a tree near a stream. Joel grabs your hand, pulling you deeper into the field of wildflowers. Bees buzz. Butterflies flap around. Joel stops once you’re in the middle. He’s still, a butterfly, painted orange and black, lands on his shoulder. Your breath catches. He stares at it. You swear you see his lips move. His crow's feet crinkle, and the butterfly takes flight, flapping around both of you.

He pulls you to the ground, pulling you to sit between his legs. He buries his head between your shoulders. “I feel closest to her here.”

You smile, hands running across his jeans. “I can see why.”

He hums in acknowledgment, leaving the two of you to sit in peace. Eventually, Joel guides you to the ground, hidden by the growth. It spills out of him like water from a fountain. What he remembers most about her, and what he struggles to recall. What he thinks she would be like now.

He tells you the story of her 5th birthday. Sarah took a pair of safety scissors to her hair, leaving her curls lopsided and sticking up everywhere. She cried while Tommy couldn’t stop laughing at her.

You laugh, back arching off the solid ground slightly. Joel’s chuckle echoes deeply in your ears. Tears gather in your eyes as he continues to describe the disastrous birthday.

The sun hangs golden in the sky and the tall flowers make you feel a million miles away from everything, like it’s just the two of you in the whole wide world. Your body thrums like you’ve just woken up from a Sunday afternoon nap on the couch. The gentle breeze is cool against your neck as it rustles through the field

“Thank you,” Joel says. “I needed to talk about this.”

You nod, looking over at him. “Of course.”

His deep brown eyes are on you, swimming with warmth and affection that makes your chest feel like it could burst. You know that look so well. You wonder if he sees it in you too. You know it’s there. It’s been there for a while now growing with each tender touch and silent moment. You’ve accepted it, but you won’t give it a name. You won’t say it out loud- let the world hear it so it knows what to take from you next.

Joel cups your cheeks. His callouses skim across your skin so lightly it sends chills all the way down to your bare toes. You turn on your side, hair spilling to the side. You lean in, touching your nose to his, drawing closer to his lips before you pull back, teasing him.

He sighs eliciting another giggle from your throat. His fingers slide over you and land at the base of your neck, guiding your lips to his. He hums against you and you happily fall into him. These days of peace and laziness are so few and far between. Your days outside of the Jackson walls are even fewer, but you’ll sneak out with him any day if it means this.

When you separate, it’s there in his eyes again burning brighter. His heart speeds up beneath your palm. You can feel the words developing inside him, threatening to pop out and tear it all apart. Joel’s lips barely move, no sound ever leaves them before you cover them with your hand. He looks confused, but he catches it. It’s the same panic he saw that night he found you crying under the pines, and when you turned away from him the first day he snuck you out.

You don’t need to say a word, but he hears your pleas, and he nods, covering your hand with his as you slowly pull it back.

He kisses your palm, long slow kisses, making his way up your forearm, the crook of your elbow, bicep, shoulder, and collarbone. You’re returned to your back. Joel hovers over you. Your fingers dance over his brow, and his eyes flutter close for a few seconds.

He’s so relaxed here. The wrinkles set in his forehead and around his eyes are less pronounced making him look 10 years younger. Your heart swells again and for a minute you contemplate throwing caution to the wind, maybe the universe won’t hear you here, taking cover in the wildflowers, muted by the gentle breeze.

His lips are warm against yours. He moves slow and sweet like honey, like time is his to waste.

When he pulls away, his eyes are a shade darker. Your breath catches as you notice the desire that’s beginning to pool in them. There’s another unfamiliar layer. It sends a rush through you because you know it’s love.

Your hands fly to his mouth. You won’t let him say it. He can’t say it. Your head shakes softly, scared to ruin this perfect sacred moment. “Please,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, floating away on the breeze. “Don’t say it, Joel. I- I can’t.” Tears threatened to cloud your vision. You worry he’ll reject you, get fed up waiting for you to let him say it.

He inhales softly, lips deliberately pressing against your palm. “I know, Sweetheart.” Another kiss. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

He leans in, leaving soft kisses over your face. Your heart clenches. You should be able to give him this, on today of all days, but you can’t.

His lips dip to your ear. His breath is hot against your neck. “Mine.”

Your hands thread through his hair. It’s longer than he usually keeps it. His lips touch your cheek and then your lips. It looks chaste, but there’s a promising heat behind it. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “Be mine.”

You catch the hint of fear in him that maybe those words will send you into a tailspin, but they don’t. It’s a complete statement: be mine. There’s nothing to add to it. You are simply his. It feels like a safe zone. A definition of what the two of you are. It soothes all your anxieties. You can live in the in-between with him. He’s not even asking to be yours but you know he is.

Joel’s forehead rests against yours. Your thumb brushes over his cheek. He’s looking into your eyes with such devotion. At the same moment, he repeats the words a third time, you tell him. “Yes.”

His eyes shine with wonderment like he can’t believe it like this is a dream.

“I’m yours.”

A smile tips his lips toward the sky and then they’re on yours. All the words and thoughts he holds back for you translate into the physical.

Author’s Note: THIS MARKS THE END OF PART I of Woman!

If you’ve taken a look at the masterlist, you’ll see I’ve divided this fic into 3 parts! Please take a look at the short series Before between Parts I and II. It would mean so much! And you get to learn more about Reader’s back story! 💕 thank you all for your continued support!

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro stories #pedrostories #pedro pascal fanfiction #woman (joel’s version)#woman (joel miller)

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jezabelle9299 · 2 months ago

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Rise and Shine S.R x FEM! Reader

Overture- This is a part 2 of Morning Sunshine, which if you'd like to read you could do Here, but if you don't feel like doing that the gist is that these two are roommates on a long case (separate beds they're awkward enough without being under the same comforter), and when Spencer wakes up Reader is already up getting ready, so they decide to get breakfast together. But Spencer is very sleepy, and starts drifting off again.

CWs-Spencer falls down, but he's fine.

A/N- Someone actually requested this! It made me very happy and I would like to give that person a very small kiss on the nose. Also it's technically Halloween, so happy Halloween! I'm beginning to think I may not finish all of these before the end of the month (but I may die trying) Anyway, this is day 23, and if you'd like to read the other things I did this month you can do that here: October Writing Master List

You let Spencer sleep in an extra 15 minutes, long enough for you to finish your makeup– before trying to wake him up again. You agreed to get breakfast and coffee before the morning briefing, and if you were going to make it in time, he needed to start getting ready.

“Hey Spencer?” You called out to him, and although you were only a few feet away, he didn’t respond.

“Spence?” This time he only turned over in response, so you leaned over his bed to gently shake his shoulder, lowering your voice a little bit so as to not startle him.

“Hey, come on, we gotta go if we’re going to make it to the briefing on time and still get breakfast on the way.” He turned his head towards you, sleepily grumbling a little bit.

“5 more minutes Sunshine?” That he’d never called you before. He wasn’t very into nicknames outside of occasionally calling you and your colleagues by their last names. And you could see the very moment he recognized it in himself, his eyes shooting open, and him immediately sitting back up in bed. He registered your slightly shocked expression and threw the blankets off of himself.

“Ah— I mean I— I’ll get ready now.” He stumbled to get out of that bed so quickly, he didn’t even notice his leg caught in the sheets until he went tumbling to the floor.

“Oh my god Spencer are you ok?” You rushed over to him, trying to pull the rest of the bedding off of him.

“Yeah-yep, I’m fine. How about I meet you in the lobby in like 10 minutes?” He spoke while still collecting himself from the floor.

“Sure, I’ll see you then.” You gently closed the door behind you, and made your way down to the lobby to wait. Spencer however, spent the first minute screaming into a pillow because he was so mad at himself that he not only let the nickname he preferred to keep confined to his thoughts slip in front of you, but that he immediately fell down after. Like a baby deer learning to walk.

When he came down to the lobby, his face was still as red as could be. But you didn’t say a word about what happened earlier, leading him with his cute little message bag to the cute little cafe down the street. You got your food and coffees, and then after the waitress made sure everything was ok, you decided you could now tease him just a little bit.

“So Sunshine, huh?” He almost choked on his coffee, and you felt just a little bit bad for bringing it up.

“I’m so sorry about that, I wasn’t thinking– I didn’t mean to call you–that.”

“I didn’t think you liked nicknames.”

“Generally I don’t.”

“So what got me the honor of such a flattering one?”

“I don’t know, you’re just so warm? I guess?” Warm, bright, the light of his life— it was all semantics really.

“Aww, thank you. That’s really sweet, Spencer.”

You took a glance at the clock on the wall, and realized you needed to be at the briefing in less than 20 minutes. Everyone on the team knew you were sharing a room so if you both turned up late, they’d have a field day. You could make it on time, but you raised your hand when the waitress walked by so you could get the check.

“Oh the two people at that table already paid your tab. They said you were a very cute couple.” She said it in a way that was so sweet and genuine, you really weren’t sure who you were picturing when you looked towards the door, where the waitress had pointed.

Yet there they were, Derek and Emily, smug as ever. Spencer followed your line of sight and all of the color drained from his face. They each gave you small waves before putting their sunglasses back on and walking out.

“Alright, we’re getting made fun of this morning anyway, you might as well finish your coffee.” Spencer grumbled while picking up his own mug again.

#spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds

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bagopucks · 2 years ago

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J. Hughes - So Fine

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Reader

Requested✨

Part two of, Home Alone

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning(s): implied smut, and lying to poor Ellen

—————————————

If I come get you in 5 will you be ready?

JackyBoy… Uh

JackyBoy… Yah

JackyBoy… Why

I’m home alone, and we haven’t seen each other all week.

JackyBoy… Okay. 5 starting now? Or five starting like.. a minute ago when you texted?

Five starting now

Wear swim trunks

My parents were out of town on a brief business trip. A once in a blue moon event that hadn’t happened since Jack and I got together. And considering our last rendezvous didn’t exactly go so well, I was eager to get him alone again.

I left my house in a tank top and a pair of Jean shorts. It was hot out, and as much as I was itching to lay out and tan, I figured alone time with Jack was more important.

When I pulled up into the driveway, I tensed at the sight of Quinn on the front porch with Ellen.

They waved with big smiles, and I decided I’d get out and visit for a moment.

“Hey!” I called as I slipped out of the car.

“Jack said you were coming to pick him up.” Ellen spoke, waving a hand in a gesture for me to join them on the porch. I walked up the few steps and made my way over to the two.

“Yeah. Had some last minute plans. He told me there was no hockey today, so I figured I’d take what I could get.”

“That’s how I feel sometimes. Jimmy steals my boys away for sports and sometimes I have to remind them to give me a hug before they leave.” The woman’s joke caused me to laugh softly. Quinn rolled his eyes, clearly in disagreement with his mother on her confession.

“What are you two getting into today?”

I hated lying to Ellen.

I decided to tell half truths.

“We’re gonna go over to mine. I thought maybe we’d swim for a bit, order takeout and watch a few movies.”

“Parents are home?” Ellen always asked. Even before the incident. I never minded. I understood she had boundaries and concerns. Once upon a time, I never dared to cross those lines.

“Yeah. My mom just got home from work an hour ago.”

“Between you and me, it might help if you get him to lay down for a bit. Jack hasn’t slept well recently, and he’s been a little pissy.” I tried not to smile, but Quinn’s little giggle from the side had certainly amused me.

“A little?” Quinn chimed in so unexpectedly that it caused me to snort out a laugh. Ellen pursed her lips and gave her son a questioning glance.

“Maybe more than a little, but I’m sure he’ll be a ray of sunshine for you.”

“He always is.” I joked softly as the front door opened. Jack stepped out onto the porch in a tank top, the sides practically cut out. I’d seen him wear them on occasions, but really only when I went on the occasional run with him, or when I met him coming back from the gym. I liked the way he looked in them. Especially accompanied by a pair of shorts. I didn’t mind the appearance of Jack’s legs either. His eyes though, those did bother me. The darkness beneath them let me know he’d been having a real issue with sleep. I just didn’t know why.

“Ready?” Jack asked, as if he had been the one waiting on me. I chuckled and nodded.

“Have a nice day, you two!” Ellen called as I grabbed Jack’s hand and walked him off the porch and to my car.

“You too, mom!” Jack shouted back, waving at her.

“You didn’t hug her!” Quinn called playfully, earning a swat on the arm from Ellen. “Makes me her favorite!”

“Quinn!” Ellen scolded.

“At least I’m still her cutest!”

I stifled a laugh at the boys’ banter as I slipped into the car. Jack quickly got into the passenger side.

“Buckle up, Hughes.” I instructed, watching him put on his seat belt, his shirt useless to cover anything as he leaned one way and half of it bunched up to uncover his chest.

“How does your mother let you leave the house like this?” I teased as I reached out to fix his shirt. Jack giggled quietly. “It’s awful revealing.”

“But it’s just you.” The brunette reasoned. I rolled my eyes at him and pulled out of the driveway.

I was thankful I didn’t live far, because Jack was too close to keep my hands off of. We hadn’t seen each other in a week, and for the summer, that was a long time. I practically yanked him out of my vehicle once we got to my place, leading him through the garage and into my uncharacteristically quiet home. No parents shouting and making jokes. No baby sister running about. Just me, and Jack.

“You’re sure they’re not coming home?” Jack asked as he followed me into the kitchen. We both kicked off our shoes in the hall.

“As sure as it gets, Jackson.” I spoke softly as I turned to grab his hands. I walked backwards toward the fridge.

“That’s not my name.” Jack moved one of his hands from my own to gently push me back, in a playful manner.

“Well I need something fuller to call you than just Jack, ya know? And you always throw a fit when I call you Rowden.” I looked up at Jack with an accusing glare.

He huffed.

“Want a water?” I asked as I turned and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle.

“Yes, please.” I grabbed another bottle and shut the appliance, handing one over to him.

“Figured we could spend some time outside first?” I suggested.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

I walked across the kitchen with Jack hot on my heels.

I pushed the sliding glass door open and stepped out onto our back deck, smiling to myself as Jack followed close behind.

“Sometimes I wish we had a pool.” Jack admitted, sounding refreshed at the simple sight of the body of water.

I was swift to set my water down and pull my shirt off, tossing it onto one of the empty lawn chairs.

“Even better, Jack.” I turned to him, adjusting my bathing suit top while he set his own water aside. “Your girlfriend has one. And a house all to herself.”

“Sounds like she’s living the dream.” Jack laughed as I grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward. I raised a brow before peeking down at his exposed chest.

“You don’t wear this around other girls, do you?” I whispered curiously. Somewhat playful, but deep down I did wonder. I didn’t like the idea of other girls staring at him.

“No. No I don’t.” I nodded at his words.

“Okay.” I let him go and stepped back before slipping my shorts off. I tossed them onto the same chair as my shirt. I was quick to remove my socks and toss them aside as well. Then I sat down by the edge of the pool, dipping my feet in the water.

“Jack-“ I was on the verge of calling him over before I heard his loud steps padding against the wood deck. I was barely prepared to see his body fling in the direction of the pool, and I was much too late in shielding my body before it was drenched in the chilly water.

“Jack!” I shouted as laughter erupted from my lips. He surfaced with a toothy grin, his long brown hair all over his face. A mess, even after he tried to push it back. “You got me all wet!” I moved my hair over my shoulders, watching as he made his way over, giggling like he’d just heard the most inappropriate joke.

“You said you wanted to go swimming!” He defended himself, reaching out to grab my legs. I gave him a warning glance.

“I said wear your swim trunks. I didn’t say anything about myself swimming.” I tried to swat his hands away, but Jack kept a tight grip. One that felt rather nice on my calves.

“You’re gonna make me swim all alone?” Jack pushed out his bottom lip in a comedic pout.

“Maybe.” I leaned down to be eye level with him. “I might swim with you if you give me a kiss.” Jack’s eyes lit up before he pressed his lips to mine. He pulled away far too quickly for my liking.

“Is that good enough for you?” Jack asked, trying but failing to contain his smile.

“That one felt off. Just one more.”

The boy sighed and shook his head.

“I don’t know man. Might not be worth all this hassle.” I gasped playfully at his words.

“Jack Rowden Hughes!”

“Hey! I told you I don’t like that!”

“Then get those lips over here and kiss me!” He looked at me with a furrowed brow and a defiant gaze. I looked right back with expectancy in my eyes.

“I’ll wait.” Thankfully I only had to wait two seconds before Jack released the breath he’d been holding and leaned upwards to kiss me again.

Only this time I fell victim to his tricks.

Jack’s arms flew around my body and pulled me into the pool. I clung to him almost immediately, the chill of the water welcomed by my overheating skin, but still a shock nonetheless.

“Jack!” I shouted through laughter, trying to peel myself away from him, to no avail. Jack lifted my legs around his hips and smiled to himself at his own accomplishment.

“That’s all I wanted.” He informed me as he hooked his arms beneath my thighs. I glared down at him and rested my arms on top of his shoulders.

“If I wasn’t so comfy right here I’d swim away.” He took backwards steps toward the middle of the pool as I spoke, seemingly in his own little world. Content just to hold me and have me close.

“No you wouldn’t.” The confidence in his tone would have been unattractive, but the fact of the matter was that he knew me too well. He wasn’t egotistical or cocky. He didn’t think he was ‘all that.’ He simply knew I wouldn’t have left him all alone even if he ticked me off to my wits end.

“Whatever, Hughes.” I rolled my eyes at him and leaned forward to rest my chin against his shoulder. I heard him sigh. My thoughts ran rampant until they settled on a topic, one of my hands gently playing with the long brown hair at the nape of Jack’s neck.

“Your mom says you haven’t been sleeping well.” I broke our silence with a sigh. I moved one of my hands around Jack’s back to gently massage his skin.

“I’m fine.”

“We can take a nap today if you want.”

“I don’t need a nap.”

“Right. I forgot. You’re all grown up now.” I rolled my eyes, pressing a kiss to his neck. I felt Jack’s chest puff slightly with the hitched breath he took. I smirked.

“Can I convince you to take a nap?” My tone changed, slowly lifting my lips to his ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his jaw.

“We’re in the middle of your back yard.” Jack mumbled in response, his grip tightening on my thighs.

“Completely alone, Jack. The whole house is ours.” I reminded as my lips trailed back down to his neck.

Jack let out a breath somewhere between a sigh and a whine. Like he’d been faced with a difficult decision to make.

I slipped my hand down his back to tuck into the waistband of his swim trunks, and nipped at his neck.

“We can go to my room.” I whispered, “we’ve never done this before and we finally have a chance, Jack.” I wouldn’t push if he declined, but I figured by the way he pushed me against his body, that there was a strong chance he wanted it.

“Okay..” he finally breathed out. “Okay.. okay.”

“C’mon, baby.”

We grabbed towels from the downstairs bathroom after tracking pool water through half of the house. We were in too much of a rush to actually dry off though, so the trek up the steps and to my room was filled with even more dripping water and the occasional sliding foot. Seeing as my parents’ floors were all hard wood. When we got into my room, Jack and I tossed the towels aside and turned to each other. Excited and eager. Up until we made eye contact.

“Oh god.”

“Don’t be nervous.” Jack was quick to close the space between us when he heard the uncertainty in my tone. His hands came up to hold my face. “We don’t have to rush.”

“We’ll do it when it feels right?” I asked, my voice unexpectedly quiet.

“I’ll wait however long until you’re ready. And if you decide you’re not, we won’t do it at all.” My shoulders eased, and I reached out to rest my hands on Jack’s sides.

“I got so lucky.”

“You’re about to get even luckier.”

My laughter was cut off as Jack leaned in to press his lips to my own.

My heartbeat raced when he pulled away, head dipped, but looking up at me through his lashes. Asking for permission to continue on with an act we didn’t know how to navigate.

I nodded.

Did we have a single idea as to what we were doing? Absolutely not. Jack and I just kinda.. went for it? He asked me questions, I was the leading force assuring him he had been fine and was doing okay. He was loud and embarrassed. I was sensitive and un-expecting. I found it amusing to watch him hold his breath to keep quiet. I had to remind him multiple times to actually breathe before he passed out. I’m sure he found it equally as amusing each time he moved and caught me off guard. It wasn’t serious or exactly lustful to the point of meaningless sex. It was full of quiet laughter and the occasional jokes. The type of euphoric giddiness only two people experiencing something so exciting for the first time can hold.

I’d say the only thing that kept us going as long as we had, was the awkwardness killing the mood every so often. And the new feelings. By the time Jack and I got settled side by side in bed, we were both still staring each other down in complete shock.

“That was weird.. wasn’t it?” He whispered.

“A little. But it felt good. Practice makes perfect, ya know?” He nodded. The longer we stared, the wider our smiles got. “We’ve never done that before.”

Jack had one arm tucked beneath his head like a pillow, the other rested carefully on top of my hand that lay between us on the mattress.

“It was good though.. yeah?”

“Yeah.” Our conversation ended with both of us sighing. Jack’s fingers fiddled with my own. We both tried to process the new wave of emotions.

“What do you think we do now?”

He was asking a question I didn’t know the answer to.

“Just lay here?” I paused. “Maybe you should take that nap now.” He looked away, a pout settling on his lips. “Don’t be like that, Jack.” I rolled my eyes with a giggle and swiftly slipped out of my bed. I grabbed a new set of clothes out of my dresser and put them on. A simple pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt.

“You were already exhausted. And you wore me out.” I teased, glancing back at him to see the blush spread across his face.

“Can’t sleep naked.” For a moment, I thought he was joking. I knew for a fact Jack slept with only a pair of boxers on. But then I remembered his were wet. I sighed.

“Fine.” I turned back to my dresser and dug through it to find a pair of gym shorts. Orange, but the only other clean pair I had because I hadn’t done laundry yet. When I turned back to Jack, he immediately shook his head.

“I’m not wearing that.”

“It’s just for a nap, Jack.” I tossed the shorts in his direction.

“They’re so short!”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen everything, now.” I tried to reason, but the recollection of our previous activities had him flushing again.

“It’s the best I can offer, J.” He looked away and told me to turn around. I chuckled at his antics, but I turned nonetheless. When he told me I could join him in bed again, I laughed softly at the sight.

“Are they too tight on your hips?” I asked, climbing into bed beside him. The shorts hung dangerously low, but if they worked, that’s all that mattered.

“It’ll be fine.” He shrugged, reaching down to tuck one of his hands into the waistband. A boyish habit I didn’t understand, but I could only imagine now that it helped him ease the pressure from the waistband two sizes too small on his body.

I rolled onto my side and wrapped an arm around him. Jack smiled, as did I.

“Can we try again when we wake up?”

I had just rested my head on his chest when I lifted it to look up at him. I raised my brow.

“Try what?”

“Ya know..” his voice trailed off, and it took me a moment before I realized what he was asking.

“Oh! Yeah, baby. If you’re up for it. We’ve got all day to figure this thing out. We can even go to the guest bedroom. Probably should have done that in the first place. Considering the bed is bigger.” I reached up to push a few strands of his wavy brown hair from his forehead before I rested my hand against his chest. I traced lazy shapes and lines into his skin, and tossed one of my legs over his own.

“I wish your parents were out more often.”

“Me too, bud.” I heard a yawn slip past his lips, and I smirked to myself before tilting my head upwards to look at him.

“Quit talking so you can sleep, Hughes.”

“Im not tired.” Despite his words, the boy still allowed his eyes to close.

“I know you aren’t,” I whispered as I watched him. Eventually his breathing slowed, and his body didn’t feel as tense. His lips parted slightly and his features smoothed out. I only looked away when I was positive he was asleep. I wasn’t quite as tired as Jack was, but I didn’t want to leave him. It felt wrong to slip away after the step we had taken in our relationship. Perhaps it was more of a leap. I simply wanted to be with him.

So I laid there quietly, occasionally shifting until I found a comfortable spot to lay. Then I dozed off to the sounds of Jack’s occasional snores.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #quinn hughes #ellen hughes #jack hughes blurb

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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 1 year ago

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*°:⋆ₓₒ day 20. hate sex

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “just this once”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ stuck in a log cabin with an old enemy, except ifrit’s been feeling extra lonely this christmas

pairing: ifrit ghoul x gn!ghoul!reader

a/n: ifrit is so hot and i want his dick inside of me rn

cw: nsfw content. hate sex. rough sex. penetration. dubcon (?). spanking. hair pulling. exes fucking each other. intense sexual tension

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“i’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be begging to have me back. and you’re going to fucking like it.” —❤︎

┅✦┅

“can’t believe i’m stuck here with you, of all ghouls.”

“oh really? how do you think i feel!? it’s certainly not a ray of sunshine to be around you too!”

the two ghouls glared at each other, the tension between them palpable. you couldn’t believe it, out of all of the damn infernals that walked the topside, it had to be him.

you wanted to rent yourself out a little log cabin for christmas, to get away from the city and have some time to yourself. however, upon renting the cabin, you realized that both you and your ex-boyfriend got rented into the same, private log cabin on accident.

just great.

you’d never thought you’d see ifrit again, but here we are.

the fire ghoul only eyes you up and down, before rolling his eyes and throwing his suitcase to the side. both of you were unglamoured, showing off your demonic traits to the world. ifrit let out a snarl and gripped a chunk of his hair as he tried to calm himself down, but the very sight of you just agitated him.

“why can’t you just go get a different cabin? it’s clear we’re both supposed to have our own.” ifrit asked, but the tone in his voice was clearly agitated, which in turn only made you more upset.

“hell no. i’ve waited far too long for a cabin like this one. and i’m not about to let some pansy take it away from me.” you chided, referring to ifrit as the pansy.

that comment only made his tail swish in annoyance. ifrit huffed, smoky embers of frustration emitting from his mouth.

“well isn’t this just great! i’m stuck in a log cabin with the most obnoxious and overbearing ghoul there was to ever walk the earth!” ifrit complained, showing that he definitely wasn’t excited to be sharing a cabin with you.

your tail stiffened from annoyance, and you turned around to punch ifrit in the shoulder, making him yelp and cling onto the spot where you had punched him.

“well geez it’s not like you were any better to be around! oh and how i wonder why i broke up with an arrogant prick like you.” you insulted, clearly trying to get under ifrit’s skin.

and it was working alright.

ifrit just snarled and rammed onto your shoulder with his head, his horns poking at your shoulder blade, making you screech and hold onto your arm, rubbing it to try and soothe the pain.

“arrogant prick?” the fire ghoul repeated, a bitter and dry chuckle escaping his lips before he threw a few jabs himself. “i know damn well i’m not hearing this from crybaby over here.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, pupils dilating like a cat’s.

“who the hell are you calling crybaby, asshole?!”

“who do you think, genius? or do you have to repeat elementary school because you’re too stupid to understand?”

the arguing eventually escalated to a point where you and your ex were locking horns like two goats, both trying to push each other and make the other loose balance. the fight was… kind of pathetic to be honest. both of you were too stubborn to back down, baring your fangs and growling like rabid animals as you both fought. eventually, both of you got tired and collapsed on the singular bed, chests heaving as you both panted heavily.

ifrit was the first to turn over and face you, and both of you shared a brief glare.

“fuck you.” is all he could utter out.

and you just nodded.

“right back at ya.”

neither of you didn’t say anything for a moment. what were the odds of two ghouls wanting to go to a winter vacation home and accidentally ending up in the same cabin? slim chances alright, but it just so happened that you and ifrit got those unlucky chances.

the fire ghoul groaned and looked up at the ceiling, just starting to realize how petty and pathetic your guy’s fight was.

“what the hell are we even doing?” he sighed out. “we broke up, and are fighting like children over something so petty and fixable.

“i can’t believe i’m saying this, but i actually agree with you for once.” you panted out, agreeing with your ex. that’s probably the only thing you’ll ever agree on in a while.

the two of you sat in silence on the bed for a moment, not bothering to look at each other. it was quiet for a good while, but you both could tell that there was still some unresolved tension between the two of you.

suddenly, ifrit shifted his body, and slowly moved to climb on top of you, quickly grabbing your wrists and pinning you down to the bed. your eyes widened in shock, and you were about to say something, but ifrit shushed you by putting the spade of his tail against your mouth.

“shut up.” he spoke, still clearly aggravated and having some pent up energy within him. “i need a release.”

you already had a feeling where this was going, but you needed to hear the words from ifrit himself.

“so… what are you going to do?” you asked in anticipation.

ifrit just leaned down and growled in your ear, his claws tightening around your wrists.

“i’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be begging to have me back. and you’re going to fucking like it.”

—

how did you end up like this again?

the bed was rocking heavily against the wall, with you and your ex being the cause of it. bent over doggy style with your ass in the air, you were moaning loudly and whorishly while ifrit pounded into you hard from behind, groaning and grunting in the process.

one of his hands was gripping the base of your wagging tail harshly, while the other grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, making you cry out in pure pleasure while ifrit’s fat, hard cock stretched out your hole in a needy way. you almost forgotten how good ifrit fucks, and he was just proving it to you over and over again with how hard he was fucking you right now.

“fuck yes.” he moaned through gritted teeth, stroking the base of your tail while his dick hit all the right spots inside of you.

“take it, y/n. take it all like the good cumdump you are.” he smirked, his thrusts becoming more quick and fast as he went to town on you.

you just sat there and took everything he was giving you. your claws gripped the sheets so tightly you swore you were going to rip them off the mattress. ifrit felt so good inside of you, it was way too familiar.

“f-fuck!! ahh! s-slow down, asshole!” you tried to warn, but your voice sounded way too needy, and that turned on ifrit even more.

“you can take it, y/n.” he grunted, pulling you closer as he thrusted harder. “you’ve always been able to.”

those words just sent you over the edge, making you moan loudly and your hole grip onto his cock more tightly as his thrusts got more erratic.

more. more. more. you needed more of him.

ifrit didn’t even know what sparked inside of him for him to just randomly decide to fuck his ex on the spot. maybe there was that sense of longing that desperately itched his brain. the need to have someone, a mate that he could love again. the breakup with you was messy, and yet he found himself so infatuated with you. yet, he hated you so much at the same time.

the conflicting emotions turned him on so much.

he just had to have you. one, last, time.

“c’mon, y/n. feel it all, feel my cock inside of your slutty hole.” he panted out, his movements getting quicker, thrusting into you deeply while he relished the sounds of your desperate moans.

“feel it stretch you good. you fucking slut.”

his hand slowly let go of the base of your tail, and moved down to spank your rear hard, making you squeak and squirm around as you took all of the sensations at once. ifrit spanked you liked you were the worse thing to walk this planet, and he truly felt like you were for the moment. but, he still found you so strikingly hot. his spankings only matched in time with each thrust, and the spanks got harder and harder while you were getting closer and closer.

you were in a state of pleasure and pain. his thrusts were so hard it hurt, but they felt so damn good at the same time.

“oh yes that’s it, y/n.”

smack.

“you’re doing so good, taking me so well.”

smack.

“i bet you wanted this the entire time, right? you just wanted to fuck your ex, huh?”

smack.

“say it, say you wanted to fuck me the entire time.

smack. oh it was so painful against your rear, but it felt so fucking good. ifrit was definitely projecting onto you now, but you were too deep in a lustful trance to care.

“y-yes! yes i-i wanted you the entire time!” you cried out, and you meant every word of it, even if you hated speaking it. “i-i wanted you so bad! y-your cock in my hole! a-ahhh!”

“ahh there we fucking go. music to my fucking ears.” ifrit grunted out, feeling himself getting closer as he thrusted into you.

“fuck y/n. i’m gonna cum.” he warned, and you nodded.

“m-me too! fuck i wanna cum so bad!” you cried out.

it wasn’t long, but after a few more thrusts, ifrit’s thick, hot seed spilled into your hole as your ex emptied himself. you followed soon behind afterwards, cum spurring everywhere, making a mess on your body and the sheets.

you both slumped against the bed, and ifrit laid on top of you.

he just snickered, and pulled your hair up, looking at your pathetic, fucked our face while you whimpered. tears of both pleasure and pain stained your cheeks, and you looked so defeated. ifrit knew it all too well.

ifrit just snarled in your face and licked your earlobe, before speaking.

“look who’s crying now.”

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#holiday hoes event #ifrit ghoul #ifrit ghost #ifrit smut #ifrit x reader #ghost bc fanfic #ghost bc smut #nameless ghoul smut #nameless ghoul x reader #the band ghost smut #christmas prompts #christmas #smutty drabble #smutty fanfiction

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kiwi-solace · 1 year ago

Text

Devotion’s Fall (Teaser)

Brief: While living may not be as easy and comfortable as many, it was just fine to Y/n. Resigning herself to the circumstances, she’s come to accept her life and the future. When assisting a friend in attending the annual party of the kingdom’s prized royalty in finding their final soulmate for the first time, she expects a few days of playing pretend of what she wishes to be. But one should always be careful with the words you speak into the world.

Word Count: 993

Warnings: moderate injury, yandere (you know the drill), controlling behavior

A/N: Would you believe me if I said this was supposed to be finished in March? Btw Italics are not being spoken out loud! It’s in her head that’s all. Anyways, feel free to message me (￣∇￣)

...

Keep moving.

That’s all she could think of as she navigated through the dense forest that surrounded the kingdom’s domain. Seeking safety was top priority even if it brought her further away from a place she almost called home.

Dodging the various roots and vines of the forest floor had taken a toll on her bare feet. There was no time to care about something as simple as shoes when there was rarely a moment of opportunity for this getaway. Deluded were she, to ignore the signs and fall victim to their sweet nothings and reassurances. There had to be a catch. It was stark in hindsight.

Lungs has since yelled for her user to stop for a simple break, but that’s too much of a luxury to afford for the situation, let alone being in a simple nightgown. The alarm bells keep the adrenaline pumping, knowing you only had a small headstart. You can hear the storming footsteps behind you even on this stormy night. The thunder unable to drown out those sent after you–those coming after you themselves. They’re getting too close for comfort.

“Find her now! If you come back without her you’ll have bigger problems to deal with than finding a mere human.”

“We’re tired of this game of cat and mouse love.”

“It’s too dangerous outside for you— stop running.”

There it was. Those damned commands they started using within you. Their blood is the cause of this. The entire connection is cursed. Why had she been chosen for not just one, but eight creatures that have sought not just her heart, but her unconditional love and obedience.

Fighting the command with all her might slowed down her pace, a splitting headache begins in dismay of her disobeying. I will listen to you no more.

Being within a 50 mile radius of just one of them— let alone the eight of them— was more dangerous than the outside world. It’s sunshine and rainbows compared to them. With that thought, she attempts to speed up once again, only to trip on a slippery root infront of her beyond the kingdom’s wall. While the rain did aid in masking her scent with its downpour, it came to be her downfall when traversing haphazardly. It mocks her really. To know that you’re so close to being free from their jurisdiction, but even then there’s only one question: what happens? She laughs to herself at the thought. Maybe it’s the adrenaline or she’s losing it completely, but what’s to stop their pursuit even after fleeing the kingdom. They’ve proven to know no bounds when it comes to getting their way. Manipulation. Lies. Murder. It’s nothing new.

Groaning from the fall and newly acquired bruises, she attempts to get up again only to give out as another command is forced through. “Stop Now.”

Everything begins to hurt as you try to resist again, but it’s futile. Finally, with her knees to the grown and head hung, she stops.

Things never went accordingly. From your failure in aiding your friend in being chosen all the way to the hell that was to come as being the “missing piece” in this kingdom’s royal bloodline. It’s a curse. She doesn’t know who she wronged in life to be given such circumstances, but they succeeded in making her life miserable and seemingly temporary.

This was never her wish. Her words were twisted from a mere joke. It just goes to show how a person should always be careful with what they put out into the world. She can hear the gods laughing at her.

“Surround the area, I’m approaching!” Not like I can move.

She knows she won’t be let off easily this time being caught. Feigning innocence isn’t possible in this situation when knowingly disobeying the commands of her lovers— the king and his seven princes. The very beings responsible for the well-being of the kingdom and its prosperity.

Beings that promised when they found their missing bond, would they cherish and take care of them wholeheartedly. They’d know nothing except leisure and comfort as they delivered on their word of giving them the love they deserved. Thinking back, is this what she deserved? Tension, anger, exhaustion, skittish, helplessness—all things you’ve felt since your life had been uprooted from its natural continuance of a humble life.

“What did I deserve?” She spoke to no one.

Death seems to be the only way out from here. Her humanity a reminder that she still has something against them—something she can proudly claim. A way out. Maybe she should’ve been one of the many men and women throwing themselves at them. It looks like they got the better end of the stick with just dealing with rejection rather than this. Leaning against the trunk of a tree, she brings her knees to her chest slowly so as to not disturb her injury and rests her forehead atop her knees. The rain still pelting around her seemed to mask the approaching footsteps, or maybe she just didn’t care anymore. There’s no time to decide which one it is when said figure crouches beside her and places a hand on her shoulder.

“Did you finish your little adventure?”

Yeosang. It wasn’t said aloud, either to let the others into the conversation through their connection or because he knew she wouldn’t reply verbally. She didn’t care.

Met by silence, Yeosang sighs before repositioning himself to lift up his prize as the fragile princess he believes she is. The trek back wouldn’t take too long for him even with her in his arms.

“As much as we love you, you know the others will not let this go so easily,” he said out loud knowing it didn’t matter if there was a reply. Effective enough, the threat alone made her shiver because she knew what was waiting for her back in the castle would be the final descent into madness they’d want. Full compliance.

Their heaven, her soon to be hell.

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jollyhunter · 17 days ago

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24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 9.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.

Words: 2,690 (I tried to keep it short but ended up with a longer version since I wanted to do this idea of sweet loving Dean switching back and forth to soft dom!Dean justice)

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: In my headcanon Dean’s a switch and a super soft dom, always making sure you feel comfortable. And mainly playing the dom part because he had noticed how you'd always bite your bottom lip whenever he’s using his deep and authoritative voice with others or how you'd swallow thickly when he kicks into action on hunts, and it dawns on him that it actually turns you on. Dunno whether this is a popular headcanon but guess that's just my take on him, I hope you'll enjoy it!

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

“Are those the same cuffs we’re using on our hunts? Nasty.” you jab with a little playful smile on your lips while you watch Dean smirk and chuckle, rifling through his duffle bag to pull out the familiar pair of handcuffs.

“Yep, that’s the exact pair. But don’t worry, no ghost slime or vamp blood on ‘em.” He assures with a grin, as he makes his way back to the bed.

He kneels down just behind your naked back, the handcuffs grasped in his fingers while he gently tugs at your hands. “You remember the safe word, baby?” He asks, as he leans towards you, a calm and gentle tone in his words when he begins to bring your wrists together behind your back. You feel your excitement kick in, his strong hands coaxing your slender ones to follow his lead with such tenderness - in a way like no one rarely ever gets to witness him despite you.

Your head turns sideways to glance back at him, searching for his eyes to give him a reassuring smile of yours. “Yep, Cherry Pie.” you chuckle lightly. And to prove your point, you drop slightly forward, your naked chest automatically sinking further into the mattress while he pulls your arms behind your back together. He carefully places the cuffs around your wrists, locking them with a quiet click, before giving them a gentle and tentative tug, always checking to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable

“Too tight?” He asks, his tone calm and gentle. “No, it’s a green from my side.” You hum, referring to the traffic light system you’d always use when you'd do something more intense.

Dean lets out a silent sigh of relief, but quickly covers it up with a cocky grin, “Now, remember that time your drunk ass told me you’d want me to tame you like a little brat…? You up for it?” For a moment you swallow thickly, your breath caught in your throat. Wait- shit- He actually remembers that? “I got us something… in case you’re still u-”

“Yes,” you cut him short, the word slipping your lips thanks to your excitement sky rocking now. “Is it another gift wrapped in toilet paper?” You quickly add, trying to distract from your flustered expression. Dean’s smirk widens at your eager response and he moves off the bed to get something from the nightstand’s drawer, “Nah, this one didn’t need packing.” Moments later, he kneels back on the bed behind you, his hands moving to gently caress your skin again. You angle your shoulders, peering back up at him with the side of your face flush against the mattress, your breath increasing as you spot the new toy in his hand. Held up high, letting you see it in its full glory, was a medium-sized, black leather riding crop.

Goddamn. A shiver runs through your body, your heart suddenly racing and the heat pooling between your legs. He begins to slowly run the leather tail of the crop across your bare skin, allowing you to get used to the new sensation. Your breath hitches when it ever so lightly brushes over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake and sending another cold shiver down your spine.

“Damn…” you breath out hoarsely, slightly muffled by the mattress. And you suddenly feel your cheeks flush a bit pink at the thought of your following words, “You- … you gonna whip me in shape?”

He chuckles in response, the vibrations of his laughter rippling against your skin. “Oh definitely – can’t tame my girl otherwise, now can I.” He says, before he begins to lightly nudge your legs with the end of the crop. “Lift your hips.” He instructs, his voice calm and gentle yet authoritative.

You wiggle yourself off the mattress in order to lift your hips, your chest still firmly pushed into the blanket as it was a bit difficult to hold your balance with your wrists cuffed behind your back.

Dean notices you swaying slightly and his free hand quickly goes to stabilize you by holding your hip upright. “Good girl.” He murmurs in response, a tone of praise in his voice. He then begins to slowly run the end of the crop down your spine, the leather slowly and gently sliding along the bumps under your skin. A soft whimper escapes your lips at the sensation while the leather tail continues to tease and caress your skin, causing chills to run down your spine and straight to your core.

Without a word, he suddenly smacks the leather down against your ass, the impact stinging but in a way that makes you shiver from pleasure and excitement. You involuntarily wince at the sudden whip, muffling the pathetic noise with the mattress as you bury your face in the blanket.

“Shit- sorry babe,” he apologizes quickly while his hand goes to caress the spot where the leather had hit. He leans to the side to check on your expression, his eyes widened slightly, “You okay?” “Mm-hm”, you confirm, the unmistakable lust carrying your husky voice when the next words slip you, “P-please- please don’t stop- I-” Did you just say that? You bite your lips, your eyes quickly averting his with a hint of embarrassment.

Dean senses your inner conflict and his protectiveness quickly kicks in – you feeling embarrassed in front of him? Nuh-uh, nope, not with me. He thinks for a moment, his free hand gently stroking your ass. Then, a faint grin spreads across his face when it clicks in his head and he realizes what you want but don’t dare to voice.

“Whimper for me…” He suddenly instructs, his voice going low and deep, just the way he knew secretly turned you on. He had noticed it plenty of times before when you were on hunts, never commenting on it, but your subtle reactions never went unnoticed by him.

You freeze, unsure whether you heard him correctly, but your teeth were already pulling at your lip again at that tone of his. Dean notices your hesitation, so he decides to step up his game. He slides the crop up from the back of your thighs, to your ass and then to your lower back.

“I want you to make pretty and needy sounds for me, sunshine.” He murmurs, his voice a low and gentle tone. “I want you to beg while I tame you.” He lightly smacks the leather against the back of your thigh which makes you wince softly against the blanket. “Whimper, and I’ll reward you, little brat.” He promises, his voice gentle yet commanding, trying his best to play the role you secretly long for.

A shiver runs through your body at his words and lord - that firm tone of his does things to you, you would never admit loudly. Slowly, you feel your inhibitions evaporate. And instead lust and desire takes its place.

Leaned onto one shoulder, with your cuffed wrists still behind your back, you slightly tilt your body and lock eyes with him. His expression is a mixture of a knowing glint in his green eyes and a firm look that tells you he won’t stop until you’ll finally let go of that last shred of misplaced shame. A small, tentative smile appears on your face before you put on a desperate and whining expression with a soft small whimper.

He chuckles as he witnesses you following his instructions and slowly giving in to your secret desires, his smirk growing on his lips.

“Good girl…” he praises, then brings the leather back down against your skin, a bit rougher this time, causing a thwack to echo through the room.

“Ah-Mmnnnh!” A louder whine escapes you, not caring any more to stifle them.

He leans forwards so that his mouth is right by your ear, his breathing heavier than usual. “That was better… much better sweetheart.” He places a kiss on your jawline, before the end of the crop’s suddenly sliding against your side. “Do you wanna know what that little display earned you…?” he asks, his hot breath tickling your skin and making your own breath hitch briefly.

He then pushes his hips forwards, his chest flush against your back. “Can you feel that?” He asks, his voice a low tone. “Can you feel just how hard you make me, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah, God you’re really hard…” You say, your breath shaking slightly when you feel his cock twitching against the fabric of his pants, grinding against you.

He chuckles at your response, “Yeah… that's all because of you, sunshine…” He bites his bottom lip, secretly begging you to never feel embarrassed again for something that brings you pleasure. After a moment, he pulls back again, his heart rate rising as well now. “Turn over for me, sweetheart.” He instructs, his tone still demanding, determined to get you more hot.

You do as told and roll over, your wrists buried beneath your back as you settle down again. Then he slowly runs the end of the leather down your breasts, making your breath increase and a soft moan leave your lips. Dean has to bite back a groan at your reaction, before he scoots closer to you, sitting on his knees between your legs. One hand on your thigh and the other holding onto the leather crop. “You’re in for a treat, my good girl.”

He runs the end of the riding crop up the inside of your leg. “Just relax… I wanna see how well you can listen…”

You nod and lower your head back down into the mattress, while your legs shiver under the touch of the riding crop, both in anticipation and desperation. He slowly runs the leather up your leg, and onto your stomach, making you squirm. He chuckles when he sees you raise your head to glance towards it, trying to guess the next smack. “Ah, ah, ah. Eyes on me…” You let out a frustrated whine while you reluctantly tare your gaze from the leather crop and back to him. Dean grins, amused by your reaction, but quickly continues in his dominant persona, trying not to break character for you. “That’s it… just focus on me, little brat…”

He then flicks the riding crop in the air before gently moving it down towards your inner thigh. He licks his lips when you let your head fall back into the mattress obediently and his eyes lock onto your dripping wet folds. You feel the end of the leather move up your thigh, before he places it over the top of your covered clit. Your legs tremble and your hips subtly buck, desperate for more friction, the teasing killing you at this point. Dean ignores your eagerness and slowly drags the end of the leather over your clit, his breath now short and quick with his own need. “Are you being a good girl…? Or you still need some tamin’ by good ol’ Winchester?”

“Mm-hm” you whimper shakily, your mind a haze by now but Dean knows the answer was clearly for the latter.

He chuckles when he hears your needy sound, finally allowing yourself to let go. “That’s what I thought…”

Your thighs twitch involuntarily when you feel his fingertip brushing against your slick folds, teasing your entrance. You whimper and your cuffed hands behind your back twist in a desperate effort to clutch the sheets. “God - So wet already for me…” he murmurs under his breath, his voice a deep groan.

“Guess I’ma have to scold you a lil’ more, hmm…” He hums, the riding crop being dragged up the other side of your inner thigh now. A shiver runs up your legs, the leather feeling like sparks against your skin. He then brings the crop down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to leave a mark, but also hard enough to make it sting.

“Ah-hnnn,” Your entire body twitches and you wince from the stinging sensation. You quickly bite your lips, your eyes rolling back and your head pressed into the mattress.

Dean’s persona falters briefly at your intense reaction. “Jesus…” He whispers. “You good, sunshine..?” He asks, his voice gentle and reassuring. “Color?”

“Green,” you pant softly, your eyes briefly connecting before you drop your head back down.

He smiles warmly when he hears you reply, relieved at your answer. You’re enjoying this.

“Good. Stay still…” He orders, his voice low and firm again. The crop comes down again with a thwat – harder than the last time. You hiss but once again bite back the louder reaction, your leg twitching at the stinging pain mixed with pleasure and need.

He smiles that signature cheshire smile at the sight of you, dripping wet, whimpering, wrists behind your back and the fact that he's the reason for this secret kink of yours. He suddenly notices how his pants grow tighter by the second and a dark stain spreads on the fabric around his crotch. “Just keep being a good girl for me… and you’ll get a really big reward.”

Dean quickly undoes his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers in one, hasty movement. You let out a low moan, your eyes locked on his thick erected cock now freed and twitching from need. He leans over you, his expression suddenly soft and vulnerable. “I love you…” He mumbles against your ear, his words barely a whisper, but suddenly feeling the need to let you know, especially now that he’s acting all rough and dominant for you.

You tilt your head slightly to nuzzle against the side of his face, your voice a soft murmur against his ear, “I love you, too.” You drop your voice lower before you add a little sheepish, “And thank you.” His heart swells when you nuzzle against him, his arms wrapped around you, pulling your body up and against his where your chin comes to a rest on his shoulder. “Thank you for trustin’ me with your secret fantasies…”

He then gently rolls you over onto your stomach again and lays down over you, his front pressing against your back. “Now… I’ve still got some tamin’ to do, don’t I?” he chuckles with a teasing smirk, at which a snort-chuckle slips your own lips and you mutter, “I’ll be a real brat if you don’t.”

“That so? Mmmh… my little vixen, huh.” He hums quietly, massaging and slightly squeezing you. He then lets the leather crop come down on your butt, another loud thwat echoing through the bedroom.

“Ahh-hnng” you whimper softly and you feel your pussy twitch from need.

He smiles at your whimper, before letting the crop come down again, a bit harder this time.

A louder whimper escapes you this time, your hips twitching involuntarily from the increased burning sensation, “I- I’ll be obedient” you suddenly wine, pleading now.

He chuckles again, his voice still gruff as he’s playing along. “Of course you’ll be… and I’ll reward you for that.” He pats your reddening skin with his other hand, “You’re such a good girl for me…” his hand slides across your butt and down your inner thighs, feeling again how much you were dripping already. He groans at the sight of you so ready and his fingers scoop up some of it to coat his hardened cock with your juice.

You pant heavily by now, your butt wiggling slightly in an attempt to get closer to him, until he gives you a harder pat on the ass. “Now don’t move that cute ass of yours, ‘kay?” He leans over you to place a kiss on your favourite spot on your neck, rewarding himself with a soft, pleased hum of yours. “I- I’ll be good…”

His free hand goes back to caressing your red ass-cheek again while you can feel the tip of the leather crop press against your inner thigh, gently nudging your legs further apart. He then chuckles cheekily, knowing how much you enjoy him playing this role. So, he purposely lowers his voice even more to imitate his gruff, intimidating hunter-mode-tone while he swiftly slaps your inner thigh.

“Buckle up sunshine, you’re gonna get tamed now.”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

#dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #spn reader insert #spn x reader #spn x you #dean winchester #soft dom! dean winchester x reader #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #supernatural #spn #kinky advent calendar

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gvfgal · 4 months ago

Text

14. Funeral of Innocence

Barbarian. Biker!Jake

18+ story, minors DNI

A/n: I apologize for the wait! I’m in an extremely busy season in my life and I’m doing my best to work in writing into my schedule. We’re getting very close to the end, so if you just stick with me a little while longer, I promise I’ll make it worth your while! Thanks again for all your support. ❤️

Content Warnings: mentions of death & grief, graphic violence, depictions and descriptions of injury and death, heavy drinking, fluffy dad Jake (I fuckin love dad Jake).

Word Count: 4.3k

Two Months Later

Jake sat on the worn-out couch, staring at the black TV screen as the heavy rain pounded against the roof of the trailer. It was the anniversary of Jaxon’s death, a day that seemed to drag the storm clouds with it every year. Even here in Nevada, where rain was a rarity, the gloom found him, like it was drawn to the darkness that lived in his heart on this day.

His thoughts were far away, lost in the memories of that night. No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, his mind always wandered back to the moment that changed everything. The pain was still there, raw and jagged, like the wound had never truly healed.

His phone vibrated on the couch beside him, the screen lighting up with an incoming call. Ace’s name flashed across it, and for a moment, Jake considered letting it go to voicemail. He wasn’t in the mood to talk, especially not today. But on the last ring, he answered.

“Hey, Ace,” Jake’s voice was rough, the weight of the day pressing down on him.

“Hey, kid,” Ace’s voice came through the receiver, a rare softness in his tone. Ace knew what day it was; all the Barbarians did. They had all lost Jaxon that night, but Jake had lost more than a brother in arms—he had lost the closest thing to a real brother he’d ever have. “How ya holding up?”

Jake shrugged, even though he knew Ace couldn’t see him. “I’m alright, I guess.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, the silence heavy with unsaid words. Ace wasn’t the type to offer comfort in the traditional sense, but he was always there, a steady presence in Jake’s life. They didn’t need to say much; they both knew the pain, the loss.

“I’ve been thinking about him a lot today,” Ace finally said, his voice low. “Hard not to, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Jake replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Me too. Every year, it’s like the wound gets ripped open again.”

Ace grunted, a sound that was part agreement, part frustration. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna fill that hole, kid. But you keep goin’, for him. That’s all we can do.”

Jake nodded, “yeah, I know. Doesn’t make it easier, though.”

“No, it don’t,” Ace agreed, his voice tinged with a shared pain. After a brief pause, he added, “Just remember, you’re not alone in this. We all miss him.”

Jake clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to scoff. Sure, the other Barbarians missed Jax—he was a presence that no one could forget, both within the club and beyond. But no one felt the loss like Jake did. None of them carried the burden of knowing that his own father set the chain of events in motion. The thought alone made his blood boil.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Ace.”

Just then, Jake heard the soft, familiar sound of your footsteps as you approached from the back room. When he looked up, he saw you glowing, your damp hair cascading over your shoulders, still fresh from the shower. The sight of you, six months along, with your belly now a prominent, rounded bump sitting high on your midsection, filled him with a warmth he couldn't find anywhere else. You and that baby were the only light in his otherwise shadowed world. Seeing you like this, Jake finally understood why Ace had given you the nickname Sunshine.

He couldn’t help but grin as you came over to him, standing by his side. Without thinking, he wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed the bump over the oversized t-shirt that nearly swallowed you whole.

“Promise me you won’t sit around and mope all day,” Ace's voice crackled through the phone, pulling Jake’s attention back. “Some of the guys and I are headin’ to the Tavern later. You should come.”

As you ran your fingers through his hair, Jake leaned into your touch, feeling the tension slowly ease from his body. The warmth of your hand was soothing, but it couldn’t fully extinguish the torment raging inside him.

“I’ll think about it,” Jake replied, knowing full well he had no intention of going. The thought of being around the guys, pretending everything was fine, was the last thing he wanted.

After a few more words of goodbye, he hung up the phone and turned his full attention to you. You sat down beside him, your hand instinctively moving to your belly as Jake’s hand found its way there too, rubbing gentle circles over the growing life inside.

“You okay, baby?” you asked softly, your eyes full of concern. You knew what day it was. The past few weeks, Jake had been unusually on edge, and today, the tension had reached its peak. His sleep had been restless, and more often than not, you’d wake in the middle of the night to find him absent from bed, only to spot him through the kitchen window, standing on the porch with a haunted look in his eyes.

“I’m fine. Just tired,” he lied, the words coming out far too easily.

You didn’t believe him, but you didn’t push. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. “Do you wanna get out of the house today? We could go into town, grab something to eat, even if it’s raining. I’ll even eat at that one terrible barbecue place you like,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Jake chuckled, appreciating your effort. He squeezed your leg before returning his hand to your stomach. “Nah, baby. Really, I’m fine. I just wanna hang out here with my two girls and watch some terrible ’80s movies.”

You saw the strain in his eyes, the way he was forcing himself to push through the day. But you also recognized his effort to be present with you, to not let the darkness consume him completely. So, you agreed to the movie day, knowing that it was his way of coping. He could’ve easily shut you out, but instead, he chose to stay close.

Jake headed to the kitchen to pop some popcorn while you sifted through Riley’s collection of movies, eventually settling on The Toxic Avenger. It was cheesy and over-the-top, just the kind of distraction Jake needed.

The two of you curled up on the couch, sharing a blanket that was almost too small for both of you. You laughed at the ridiculousness of the movie, and for a little while, Jake managed to push the pain to the back of his mind. But it wasn’t long before you, in your pregnant state, drifted off to sleep. Jake wasn’t surprised; these days, you seemed to nap more than you stayed awake. He found it endearing how easily you’d fall asleep, your head resting on his shoulder, your soft snores filling the room.

He stayed still, not wanting to wake you, and watched the rest of the movie alone. When it ended and you were still fast asleep, Jake carefully slipped out from under you, making sure you were comfortable before turning off the TV and leaving you to rest.

Moving quietly, Jake made his way to the kitchen and retrieved a half-full bottle of whiskey from the back of the cabinet. He grabbed his helmet, laced up his boots, and pocketed his keys before stepping out into the cool air. The rain had stopped, but the sky remained a threatening gray, the gloom hanging over everything like a shroud.

Jake stashed the bottle in his bike’s trunk compartment, mounted his motorcycle, and revved the engine. The roar of the bike was a familiar comfort, a temporary escape from the heaviness that threatened to swallow him whole like the shirt you wore. Without looking back at the trailer, he pulled out of Cactus Creek, the wheels kicking up gravel as he sped off in the direction of the town cemetery.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, bathing the dusty road in a warm, golden glow. Two small boys, Jake and Jaxon, pedaled their worn bikes with all the energy their seven-year-old bodies could muster. Their voices filled the air with the imagined roar of motorcycle engines as they raced up and down the street, the sound of their laughter breaking the stillness of the quiet trailer park.

Their bikes were far from the shiny, top-of-the-line models the rich kids in Crystal Bay flaunted, but to Jake and Jaxon, they were the coolest choppers in the world. Each push of the pedal, each turn of the handlebars, was a taste of the freedom they dreamed of. One day, they knew, they’d be tearing down the open road on gleaming Harleys, just like the men they idolized. For now, though, these battered bikes were more than enough to fuel their wildest fantasies.

As they skidded to a stop near a patch of dirt, Jake noticed Jaxon’s usual grin had faded. The weight of his recent loss was evident in his hunched shoulders and the way he absently kicked at the gravel.

“Hey, Jax,” Jake called out, his voice softening as he pulled up beside his friend. “You okay?”

Jaxon shrugged, keeping his eyes on the ground. “Just thinking about my dad,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Jake hesitated, unsure of what to say. He’d heard the adults talking about Jaxon’s dad, about the horrific accident and how Jaxon’s mom was nowhere to be seen, leaving him alone. But Jake didn’t see Jaxon as alone—not really.

“You know,” Jake began, trying to sound confident, “as long as I’m around, you’ve got family. My dad says you’re gonna be staying with us for a little while.”

Jaxon looked up, a glimmer of hope in his teary eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jake nodded firmly. “We’ll be like real brothers. Always will be, no matter what.”

Jaxon’s lips curved into a small smile. “Yeah, we’re brothers.”

Jake beamed, feeling a swell of pride in his chest. “And when we’re Barbarians like our dads, we’ll have a ton more brothers. We’ll ride together, just like them.”

The boys shared a moment of silent understanding, their eyes reflecting the innocent dreams of a future where they’d be inseparable, bound not just by friendship, but by the brotherhood of the club.

But as the sun dipped further below the horizon, casting long shadows across the dirt road, an eerie stillness settled in the air. The boys, lost in their fantasies of roaring engines and leather jackets, couldn’t sense the dark clouds that loomed over their future. They didn’t know how the very dreams they cherished would one day become a nightmare that neither of them would be able to escape.

Jake parked his bike just outside the cemetery’s chain-link fence, knowing the Barbarian emblem emblazoned on the side would deter anyone from daring to touch it. The cemetery was larger than one might expect for such a small town, serving as the final resting place for the dead from three neighboring communities. Most of the headstones were shrouded in weeds, the graves neglected, their living relatives long gone or uninterested in tending to the past. But one section stood out: the back right corner, reserved for the Barbarians. These were the only headstones that remained meticulously cared for, maintained in a silent rotation by probee members to ensure their fallen brothers had a fitting final resting place. A few stones loomed larger than the rest—those were reserved for the fallen leaders.

Jake meandered toward the newest and largest of them, his bottle of whiskey dangling from his hand. Rex’s full name was chiseled into the gaudy headstone, and a well-known photo of him in his Barbarian attire was prominently displayed in the center. Jake stood there for a moment, staring at the face of the man who had once loomed so large in his life, offering what little respect he had left for him.

But he didn’t linger. His real destination was further back, where Jaxon’s headstone lay. He’d deliberately avoided this spot on the day of Rex’s funeral, unable to face it then. But now, on the anniversary of Jaxon’s death, after a decade away, it felt like a duty—a painful, necessary duty, to pay his best friend a visit.

Jaxon’s headstone was modest in comparison to Rex’s, and Jake couldn’t help but find it absurd. Rex had drunk himself to death, while Jaxon’s death had been a true sacrifice for the Barbarians, a life given for the good of the club. Yet here was Jaxon, buried under a simple stone. Still, it was well cared for, the inscription clear and clean. The photo of Jaxon at seventeen—sandy curls, blue eyes, and that familiar wide grin—was heartbreakingly youthful.

Jake lowered himself to the ground beside the headstone, the weight of ten years of absence pressing down on him. He didn’t say a word, just sat there, the silence of the cemetery wrapping around him as he finally faced the grave of his best friend. The familiar ache of loss and guilt surged through him, the memories of their last days together rushing back, vivid and painful.

“It is a Barbarian’s sworn duty to always serve this family. You have a duty to live and die by the Code of the Barbarians,” Rex barked, his voice harsh and unyielding as Jake struggled to catch his breath. The taste of blood filled his mouth, and he spat it onto the dirt at his feet, the metallic tang lingering as Rex’s words drilled into him. “It is your duty to lay down your life, if need be, for the good of this family. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Jake choked out, his voice strained, the pain in his ribs nearly unbearable.

Rex’s eyes narrowed, his voice rising to a thunderous roar. “I said, do you understand, probee?!”

Jake forced himself to stand taller, summoning every last ounce of strength he had left. “Yes!” he shouted, his voice stronger this time, defiant even in his exhaustion.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Rex’s mouth. “Boys, I think he’s ready.”

Jake turned his head, catching sight of Jax standing beside him, equally battered and bruised. The two of them had endured the same grueling initiation, their bodies screaming in protest from the punishment they’d taken. But despite the pain, they both wore blood-soaked smiles. They had finally done it—after years of dreaming, they had become Barbarians.

The ceremony concluded with the presentation of their jackets, the final symbol of their acceptance into the brotherhood. As the celebration commenced, the aches and pains began to fade, numbed by the countless drinks that were thrust into their hands.

"We did it," Jaxon said, his voice rough with excitement as he playfully shoved Jake. "We finally did it, man. We’re Barbarians."

Jake grinned back, his heart swelling with pride. "That’s right. Real brothers now."

Jaxon shook his head, his sandy curls swaying with the movement. "No, man. We’ve always been real brothers. This just makes it a hell of a lot cooler," he added with a smirk.

They laughed, clinking their glasses together, spilling liquor onto the ground as they toasted to their achievement.

That night, they crashed at Ace’s house, still wrapped in their new jackets, the leather worn but loved. Even as the sun crept up, the sounds of the party filled the house, the energy refusing to die down.

Jaxon groaned as he sat up from the couch, clutching his side where the bruising had already begun to form. He lifted his shirt to examine the damage, wincing at the deep purples and blues blooming across his ribs. But despite the pain, there was a sense of pride that outweighed it all—because they had made it.

Jake shifted on the sofa across from him, groaning as the pain in his muscles made itself known. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, blinking until his gaze locked with Jaxon’s. For a moment, they just stared at each other, taking in the sight of their battered and bruised faces. Then, as if on cue, they both broke into laughter.

"You look like shit," Jaxon joked, grabbing his head as his hangover set in.

"Right back at you," Jake shot back, wincing as he leaned too hard on his elbow.

They gathered themselves as best they could, then dragged their aching bodies toward the backyard where the party was still rolling.

When the rest of the Barbarians saw them, a cheer erupted, beer cans raised high despite the early hour.

"There they are," Rex boomed, pride evident as he clapped them on the shoulders. The boys pretended the movement didn’t hurt like hell.

"How are you two feeling?" Ace asked from a lawn chair, feet propped up, his own hangover evident.

"On top of the world," Jake replied with a smirk, just as a sharp pain shot through his head. "And a little bit like shit."

"Same here," Jaxon agreed, gesturing to his bruised body. "I was drinking to numb this, but I think I might’ve made it worse."

"Bullshit," Riley called from the Blackstone where he was whipping up breakfast. "All you gotta do is keep drinking, and you won’t feel a thing."

"Nothing cures a hangover like an ice-cold beer," Ace chimed in, tossing two beers to Rex from the cooler beside him.

The men cheered as the boys shotgunned the beers, then Riley appeared with a disposable camera while Steeljaw took over the grill.

"Alright boys, smile," Riley instructed as he focused the lens. "We’ve gotta capture this moment."

"We’re proud of you boys," Ace added, raising his can in their direction.

"Damn straight," Rex agreed.

Jaxon threw an arm over Jake’s shoulder, the two of them grinning at one another before turning to the camera. The flash went off, capturing the moment—two brothers bound by blood, brotherhood, and the all too iron-clad loyalty of the Barbarians.

Tears streamed down Jake’s face as the drizzle turned into a steady rain, each drop mingling with the wetness on his cheeks. That memory had once been a beacon of joy, a reminder of simpler, happier times. Now, it was tainted, a bitter reminder of loss.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, man,” Jake whispered, his voice thick with grief, as if Jaxon were sitting right beside him.

“I shouldn’t have listened to Rex. I should’ve been down there with you. Maybe if I was, you’d still be here. Or maybe…” His voice cracked as he lowered his head, fresh sobs wracking his body. “Maybe you’d be here instead of me. You should be here, Jax.”

Jake sat there, the rain soaking him to the bone, but he didn’t care. The bottle of whiskey lay forgotten beside him—somehow, even that wouldn’t dull the pain.

“Jake?”

His head snapped up at the sound of your voice. You stood there, a zipper jacket pulled tight over your growing belly, hood shielding your face as you squinted through the downpour, struggling up the slight incline to reach him.

“Cherry?” Jake’s voice wavered as you drew near, your figure becoming clearer through the haze. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was worried about you,” you replied, breathless as you finally reached him. “Thank God for modern technology and location sharing.”

Your attempt at a lighthearted joke fell flat; Jake’s face remained shadowed with sorrow. Without a word, you lowered yourself beside him, resting your head gently on his shoulder.

The two of you sat in silence, letting the rain pour over you, Jake secretly thankful for the way it disguised the tears that continued to spill from his eyes.

“I miss him,” he confessed, the pain in his voice almost palpable. “He’s supposed to be here.”

“I know, baby,” you murmured, your hand finding his, squeezing gently. Sometimes, there were no words that could offer comfort, only the simple acknowledgment of grief. “I know.”

Jake’s hand unconsciously moved to your round belly, his thoughts drifting to what life would’ve been like if Jaxon were still around, if he could be here to see Jake become a father. He knew, without a doubt, that Jaxon would’ve made the best uncle. They had spent countless hours talking about what it would be like to have little Barbarians of their own. The fact that Jaxon would never see that dream come true gnawed at Jake’s soul.

Just then, a gentle nudge pressed against Jake’s palm. The baby shifted, a tiny movement, but it made you both freeze.

“Did she just…?” Jake’s voice held a glimmer of joy, a sound you hadn’t heard from him in far too long.

You nodded, placing your hand over his, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, she did.”

For weeks, you had tried to get the baby to move for Jake, but she always seemed to be still whenever he was around. It was as if she was waiting for just the right moment.

Jake closed his eyes, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. In his heart, he took that small kick as a sign—a sign that your little girl already knew her uncle Jax. For all Jake knew, Jaxon was watching over her, waiting for the perfect moment to send her down to meet you both.

Jake gently pressed on your stomach, and the baby responded with another, stronger movement, more pronounced than before. You both laughed in amazement, marveling at the little life inside you.

You sat together in silence, captivated by the way your baby seemed more active than ever.

“She’s never moved this much for me,” you said, laughing softly as you watched Jake’s face light up with wonder.

“So she is a daddy’s girl after all,” he grinned, eyes never leaving your belly.

After a moment, Jake exhaled a deep, weary sigh. “I wanna go home,” he said, his voice heavy with longing.

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek and kissed him softly. “Then let’s go home,” you whispered, your words filled with love and comfort.

Jake stared into Jaxon’s lifeless eyes, desperately willing him to blink away the blood pooling in them. But no miracle came. The cold reality hit him like a sledgehammer; Jaxon was gone. With a trembling, blood-soaked hand, Jake gently closed his friend’s eyelids, sealing the finality of it.

The gunfire had long since ceased, and the roar of engines retreating into the distance signaled the rival gang’s hasty departure. The battlefield was eerily quiet now, save for the anguished shouts of the Barbarians as they scrambled to regroup. But Jake felt detached, like he was watching everything unfold through a thick fog. He wanted to scream for help, but no sound came from his throat, he was paralyzed by the shock of it all.

His eyes swept across the chaotic scene, landing on Nicky, who emerged from behind a large boulder several yards away, the same boulder Jaxon had dashed from when the first shot rang out. The sight of Nicky, unscathed except for a graze on his arm, ignited a slow burn of rage in Jake’s chest.

Just then, Madcap jogged over, his eyes widening in horror as he took in the scene before him. “Oh shit,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. But Jake didn’t acknowledge him, his focus was fixed on Jaxon’s pale, still face.

One by one, more men gathered around, forming a silent circle. Ace was there, his expression stony, and eventually, Rex arrived. One of the men clasped a hand over his mouth, turning away to hide his reaction to the gruesome sight. They all stood frozen, unsure of what to do next. The weight of what had just happened settled heavily over them.

Rex, usually the first to bark out orders, seemed momentarily at a loss. His stern gaze faltered as he looked down at Jaxon’s body, and for a brief second, even he seemed human—vulnerable. But the hesitation was brief. He quickly hardened, barking out commands to the men. “Get him up. Now.”

The men moved slowly, as if reluctant to touch Jaxon, as if moving him would make this tragedy all too real. They began to pry Jake’s arms away, but he was frozen in disbelief, his mind refusing to register the reality of what was happening. He still couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jaxon’s face.

That was when Nicky joined the crowd, clutching his arm where he’d been grazed. Jake’s eyes finally snapped up, locking onto Nicky’s face with a deadly intensity.

“You false fired,” Jake spat, his voice low and filled with venom.

Nicky blinked, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Jake’s expression twisted in fury. “You fired before the signal,” he growled, his voice gaining strength with each word. “You left me and Jax exposed. And you didn’t even cover him.”

Before anyone could react, Jake lunged at Nicky, his fist connecting with Nicky’s jaw in a vicious punch that sent him reeling. The men rushed in to pull Jake off, but not before he landed another blow. His anger was white-hot, boiling over, his grief fueling every strike. It took several of the Barbarians to finally drag him away, his breath coming in ragged gasps as they held him back.

All Jake could do was watch as they carried Jaxon’s lifeless body away, his heart shattering into pieces he didn’t know how to mend. The reality of what had happened finally started to sink in, leaving a hollow pit in his chest.

This wasn’t just the death of his best friend—it marked the burial of their innocence, the final toll of a life they could never return to. Jaxon’s funeral wasn’t merely a farewell to a fallen brother; it was the funeral of their boyhood dreams, the loss of the idealistic belief that their bond was unbreakable. In its place, a harsh reality settled in—one where loyalty and brotherhood had been betrayed, where the very code they lived by had demanded this terrible sacrifice. This was the true funeral, not just of Jaxon, but of everything they had once held sacred.

Taglist: @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @wetkleenex-gvf @hollyco @dannys-dream @slut4lando @josh-iamyour-mama @gretasfallingsky @takenbythemadness @scoreofinfantryvines

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tsunami-of-tears · 1 year ago

Text

A Court of Shadows and Sunshine — Part Two

Azriel x OC

Summary: Aurora instructs her first class with Azriel, Cassian, and the Valkyries.

A/N: The inspiration for this part was a real yoga class I attended. I've been thinking about the bat boys trying it for too long. I’m dipping my toes (or should I say fingers) into writing smut - so it’s very brief.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: Brief mentions of trauma, swearing, sexual themes, smut - masturbation

Part One

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧

Aurora

The training area had been set up before you arrived, with enough mats for everyone including the Illyrians. Feyre gives you a wave before taking to the sky again, she’d be back after the class to take you home.

“Okay, everyone pick a spot. Let’s start the warmup. Follow me...”

You work through your warmup with no complaints from the group. As you start to move your body and regulate your breathing, all your doubts fade and your mind stills. The only thoughts are of your counting and completing each movement.

Getting into your instructor rhythm, your regular bubbly personality starts to shine. “Feeling nice and warm? I know this is the first lesson for a lot of you, so please go at your own pace and take extra breaks if you need them. Also, call out if anything feels wrong and I can modify the exercise. We want to work with your bodies, not against them.”

You walk the group through some deep breaths and explain the typical breathing pattern for your workout, “Of course, if you need to breathe more, or differently, that is completely okay. I don’t want anyone passing out on me,” A few laughs float around the group at your comment, there’s still nothing but silent stares from the shadowsinger.

You walk everyone through the first exercises - combinations of lunges, squats, and other movements that balance on either leg. The first pose you demonstrate is the tree pose, where you balance on one foot while the other leg is bent so your foot is against your thigh, and your hands are clasped together at your heart.

Around you, the group all try the pose. Some of the females are a little wobbly but both Illyrian males are holding it well. Cassian has a cocky smirk on his face but Azriel’s face is unmoving.

“Aurora, you know you don’t have to go easy on us,” Cassian still has that smug look on his face. “We can take it much harder than this.”

“Ugh, Cass,” Nesta groans. “Don’t say that, it’s only going to get worse.” Cassian wiggles his eyebrows back at her. Azriel just shakes his head, a hint of a smile flashed across his face for a moment before his expression hardens again.

“Your tree poses were all great,” you say to the entire group. “I thought that would be a good starting pose to gauge your skill levels. In all my classes, I like to work up to the more challenging poses. It’s much easier to get into deeper positions when your body is warm.” Cassian is still smirking, and your face heats up at the unintended innuendo.

Regaining composure, you narrow your eyes at Cassian and say, to him more than anyone else, “Any more smartass comments will earn you an extra minute of planking at the end.” Cassian just shrugs and you sneak a glance at Azriel. He’s watching you with that half smile again, and gods - he’s even more gorgeous with his eyes lit up like that.

You continue the class with some more challenging positions. There are no further complaints and everyone successfully attempts each pose.

You demonstrate the next combo, which involves a fluid movement from the downward dog into the baby cobra position. Cassian speaks up again, “Don’t look at my ass, Azriel.” His comment is met with eye rolls from both Azriel and Nesta.

Finishing up your last reps, you turn to face the class again. “That was really great work today everyone. Before we get into our cool-down, we’re going to do our final challenge. We’re going to plank for a minute to really push our core.” Nesta groans when you mention planking. “Cassian, I know you wanted more of a challenge today, so you get to do two minutes.” Before he can object, you cut him off - “Don’t complain, I’ll do it with you.” Cassian sighs and gets down on his mat.

You can comfortably plank for a few minutes, you always participate in the classes you teach so you’re fairly strong. Maybe not strong enough to wrestle someone like Cassian or Azriel, but you can certainly keep up in a fitness challenge like this.

You count out loud for the group so they know when to push through and when to stop.

As you say ‘sixty’ you hear a few groans of relief as everyone except you and Cassian break their plank. You glance up and see Nesta lying facedown on her mat, fatigued after the full minute.

Still counting, another thirty seconds pass and your eyes meet Cassian’s. His brows are furrowed in concentration and you can see him muttering to himself. You think you hear the words ‘cruel female’ but it’s too quiet to be sure. Your core is really aching now, but you’ve learned to love the burning sensation. Focusing on your counting and breathing, you’re able to push yourself to the end of the two minutes.

“One-twenty.” Cassian exhales and flops down. After his earlier jesting, you feel like showing off a bit. So you hold your plank for another ten counts.

Once you release your plank, you rest for a few seconds on your knees and look back at the group. Everyone is watching you with awe, including Azriel, whose face has now softened as he looks at you. Your eyes meet his for a moment, you feel your heart restrict in your chest and you swear his eyes widen for a split second before resuming his hardened expression. Maybe you imagined that.

Your thoughts are interrupted by another of Cassian’s smug comments. “I’m very impressed Aurora, but it's not fair for you to do extra time without telling me.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, “You Illyrian babies are so sensitive. Mother save you - a female actually beat you at a physical challenge.” She walks over to give you a high five, “I’m really glad you won, he needed to be knocked down a few pegs.”

Returning Nesta’s high five, you grin back at Cassian who pouts, “It wasn’t technically a competition though, was it? If I knew you’d keep going I would have too.”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter, Aurora still won. She held it longer than you and hasn’t complained for a second.”

You chime in, “Okay, okay - I know it wasn’t a real competition. I’d be more than happy to give you another shot next time. We’ll see who can go the longest.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Cassian reaches out his hand which you shake. “We can discuss the details after we all stretch or we’ll regret it later.”

————

You take the group through the cool-down routine and finish with a short meditation, allowing your breath to slow down and for your mind to focus on the feeling of your tired muscles.

After thanking everyone for sharing their time with you, you head towards the water fountain for a drink. You notice a cool sensation wrapping around your ankle. Looking down you see one of Azriel’s shadows curling around your leg, almost like a caress. You raise your head and your eyes meet his hazel ones.

“I just wanted to tell you I really enjoyed your workout today. I’ve had the same exercise routine for over five centuries now, it was good to try something different today.”

“I’m very glad that you found some benefits, I couldn’t tell if you were enjoying my techniques.” You pause to take a drink. “You’re kind of hard to read.”

Azriel gives you a soft smile, “It’s kind of in my job description.” He tilts his head, motioning to go back to the group.

You suppose he’s not wrong. As you walk back across the training ring beside Azriel, you catch Nesta’s gaze. She gives you a wink, you’ll have to debrief with her later

————

Everyone loved your class so much that you were invited to instruct a weekly session in the House of Wind. To Nesta’s horror, Cassian requested you push them even harder the following week.

Feyre flew you back to your apartment which is a couple of blocks from your studio, you had a few hours to kill before your afternoon class.

You were feeling very pleased at the outcome of the morning. Everyone has thoroughly enjoyed your class and you were offered a permanent spot on the training roster, working with the two most powerful Illyrians in the Night Court. You almost couldn’t believe how far you had come in the last 50 years.

————

You aren’t native to Velaris. You were born in the territory of Vallahan on the continent, however you’ve spent most of your life travelling the world with your family. Your father was a diplomat and often needed to visit foreign territories to discuss various agreements. You were with him and your mother in the Day Court when Amarantha took over Prythian all those years ago.

Thanks to the High Lords of Day and Night, and a whole lot of luck, you were smuggled into Velaris with your mother before the borders were sealed. Your father had to stay behind and he was murdered a year into Amarantha’s reign.

Your parents were mates, so even though you had no news outside of the city, your mother knew the instant your father passed. She got very sick from the grief of loosing her mate and ended up dying of unknown causes. You believe it was a broken heart that ended her, but the healers said there was no such thing.

You still have family out there, you left an uncle and cousins back in Vallahan. Unable to contact them during Amarantha’s reign of terror, you assume they think you’re dead. You’ve thought of reaching out to them in the years since, but being content in your life in the Night Court - you don’t want to leave.

Despite being orphaned and having no family in the city, you were so grateful to be alive. It was a blessing you vowed not to waste. The High Lords could have chosen anyone to hide, or just not bothered with the risk at all. You still don’t understand why they helped you, but you owe them your life.

Alone in a new city, with nothing to your name would have been the end for most people. Instead, you took this as an opportunity for rebirth. You built a new life for yourself and managed to help a lot of people along the way.

Yoga was something you learned of in the mortal lands during your travels, and you continued to practice after you came to Velaris. It helped you to process and work through a lot of your trauma. Knowing how much it helped you, you wanted to do the same for others. Which is how you got to where you are today - training with the High Lord’s War General and Spymaster.

You’re still reeling at the opportunity as you draw a bath. Your interactions with Azriel left you craving more. It has been years since you’ve shared your bed with anyone and you’ve been content on your own, until now.

You lower yourself into the hot water with your book and conjure a ball of light to read under. You’d already finished two of the books Nesta picked out for you. You’ll need to go back to the store with her soon. The stories she selected were even dirtier than the first one, not that it’s something to complain about, especially not after the morning you just had.

In the steaming water of the bath, your hand slips down between your legs. For the first time in decades, you fantasize that your fingers belong to someone else. You picture the handsome shadowsinger and imagine he's the one bringing you to your climax.

————

Azriel

The second his eyes met Aurora’s, Azriel knew she was something else. His usual game went out the window along with the majority of his self-control. It physically pained him to watch her, especially when many of the exercises left little to the imagination.

“You were quiet today, more than usual.” Azriel simply shrugs back at Cassian.

“And you were mean!” Nesta punches Cassian’s shoulder playfully but he pretends it hurt.

The three of them are seated in the dining room of the House of Wind, finishing up their lunch.

“So, what did you both think of Aurora? I told you she was amazing right?”

“Yeah, she’s great. Can’t take a joke though.” Cassian flashes his famous shit-eating grin.

“She can, your jokes just weren’t very funny.”

Azriel rises from the table and lets the two mates continue their bickering. He doesn't feel like talking about Aurora, and the sight of Cassian and Nesta makes his heart pang with jealousy. Of course, he is happy for his brother, but he often wonders if he’ll ever have a mate of his own. He doesn’t believe he’s deserving and thinks the Cauldron would agree.

Azriels walk through his room and into the adjoining bathroom. Bathing usually puts him in a better mood, so long as he doesn’t get too caught up in his head.

Turning on the faucet and slipping into the bath, Azriel tries to empty his mind but his thoughts keep travelling back to the events of the morning.

He rubs his hands on the back of his neck, feeling quite sore and tense. Not just from the exercises, he had to really work to keep his shadows by his side. They were desperate to go to Aurora, almost as much as Azriel himself. He only let his hold on them slip once by the water fountain, where he spoke to her for the first time.

‘It’s kind of in my job description… Who says that? What an idiot!’

Azriel had intended to come across as cool and nonchalant, but he just felt dumb. Despite his embarrassment, the thought of Aurora had his head racing, picturing her bent over like she had demonstrated in class.

‘Fuck.’

It didn’t take much for Azriel’s length to harden under the warm water.

The pull Aurora has on him is too great. Azriel attempts to satisfy himself with his hand, but all it does is leave him wanting more. Wanting her.

Part Three

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel x oc #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf

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