#and if you time it right it fits perfectly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amywritesthings · 3 days ago

Text

your only, hopefully.

pairing: caleb x f!reader (love and deepspace) word count: 4.3k summary: You get stood up on your very first Valentine's Day date. Caleb, as always, manages to save the day.

rated mature // pre-main story, valentine's day fluff, psuedo-incest, use of 'gege' (big brother), unresolved romantic tension, a sprinkle of angst, a ton of yearning, first kiss, foot massage, virgin!caleb credit: dividers by @/saradika-graphics

( READ ON AO3. )

[INCOMING MESSAGE] : Sry, can’t make it tonight :(

You’ve read the text message at least a dozen times.

The thirteenth still has yet to register in your mind, though the belated anger, the confusion — the shame — creeps in like a cold sweat on the back of your neck.

Everything was almost perfect. You’d just set your makeup with a misting spray. One foot remains in a nude-colored high heel while the other foot remains on the fuzzy rectangular rug below, slanting you at an uncomfortable angle.

What once fit you perfectly now feels too tight.

Gran said buying a Valentine’s Day dress was special, that it could carry a lot of sweet memories, yet you find yourself disgusted by the crimson red hugging your body.

(Should you have known? Did you miss a sign between the lines?)

There is a knock on your door, but your brain doesn’t register the gentle wraps.

Jazzy saxophone and gentle drums, your romantic pre-game ambience, now croons morosely on your laptop; songs about love and finding the one and all that—

All that bullshit.

Hours.

You spent hours getting ready for a romantic evening that wasn't even happening now.

Your nostrils flare with the settling irritation in your belly when you grit your teeth, the feeling so overwhelming that you act without thinking:

Shrieking silently behind your pressed red lips, the sound muffled, you kick to launch your unsecured heel towards the door—

“Whoa!”

As if by divine fate (or misfortune) you watch in budding horror as Caleb darts out of the way of the offending shoe, crouching to the floor with his hands over his head.

Gege — formerly the most popular boy at school, now the golden wonder boy of the skies. Every person who has ever met him has wanted to know him, let alone date him, and you cannot blame them.

He's effortlessly kind, funny in his own right, and the type of classically handsome people think about when they dream up a hot-shot pilot with a bright future ahead of him.

He’s supposed to be out by wining and dining all of the amazing girls he’s met while away from home, yet he’s somehow standing — no, crumpled — at your bedroom door in a casual muscle tank-top and gray sweatpants.

“Caleb!” you exhale in shock.

(The text is forgotten, if only for one precious second.)

Remaining crouched, he continues to keep his eyes closed.

“Could’ve warned me with a think fast, pipsqueak.”

“I’m — shit, I’m so sorry,” you rasp as you rush over to him. “I didn’t think you’d be home.”

With that cocky smirk tugging at his lips, Caleb reveals a playful violet eye before freezing.

The other eye opens slowly, the confidence all but wiped off of his face when he stares at you.

The facade erases as fast as a passing cloud.

“...whoa.”

Stopping in your tracks, your brows knit. “What?”

“Where’d you get that?” he asks after a beat, voice a little tighter than before.

His gaze flicks down, then up to the crown of your head, then only a fraction lower as if willing himself to keep his eyes focused on your face and your face alone.

“I don’t remember that being in your closet.”

“That’s because I bought it earlier this week,” you state, matter of fact. You look down at the sparkling red dress with disdain. “Not that it matters now.”

Finally standing at full height, you watch Caleb’s throat bob before he steps into the threshold of your bedroom.

“Uh… why? Your friends cancelling for a night in? Makes sense. Saves money.”

Giving him a knowing glare, you cross your arms over your chest and sigh away the creeping embarrassment. “Not quite.”

“Cancelling in general?” he tries again, mirroring his arms over his broad chest. The motion accentuates his naked biceps.

(Huh. They look bigger since he last visited.)

“Worse,” you conclude.

“Worse?”

“I got stood up by a guy in my hunter class, so that’ll be awesome to kick off Monday with.”

Before he can hide it, you see it: his jaw clenches, tight, and a dark shadow passes over his expression.

The playful boy you’ve grown up with disappears in a flash.

“Who’s the asshole?” he asks flatly. “Does he live nearby?”

“Caleb.”

“Was he going to come pick you up?”

“Caleb.”

“I have privileges now, pipsqueak. You point me in the right direction and I’ll—”

“Gege! Enough."

The old name of endearment you’ve retired when he turned eighteen, buried with the rest of your bizarre family memorabilia — one that’s only stayed in your mind and never exited your mouth ever since — slips.

Caleb’s eyes flash with discontent until you reach for his face, sandwiching his cheeks between your palms.

In an instant the heat is snuffed out, and he relaxes without any further debate.

You know how he gets.

Not quite jealousy, not entirely overprotection.

I’d fly to the sun and back for you, pipsqueak, you know that.

(You do. You know he would.)

Caleb will blindly step out of this home to go find whatever man scorned you on Valentine’s Day and take whatever repercussions arrive, no questions asked.

His affection for you has always run deeper than the familial title Gran suggested when you were both so very small.

Caleb, you protect your mei mei by any means necessary.

He took that vow seriously, even now when you’re both adults.

“It’s fine,” you reassure him — and yourself. “It’s stupid anyway. Valentine’s Day is barely a holiday.”

Brows furrowed, Caleb raises his hand to meet you, eclipsing your own. His skin is always so warm, soft despite the callouses from his vigorous workouts.

The softness of this gesture melts away the rest of your rage into an evaporating puddle at your feet.

“It’s not stupid,” he states. “You were excited about going out, and some punk took for granted the best girl in Linkon City.”

His eyes widen briefly before his fingers curl over yours.

“Nope. Uh-uh. The night has barely begun.”

When he tugs you towards your bedroom door, your first step stumbles. “Wait, what?”

“We’re going out.”

Are you hearing things?

“We — huh?”

“Go wait for me in the living room, alright?” he states, briefly kissing the back of your hand before letting go. “I’m sure Gran kept some of my presentable stuff hung up in my closet. Shouldn’t take me that long to get ready. A buddy of mine’s brother owns a restaurant in the shopping district.”

“But Caleb—”

“Ah-ah, nope.”

His lips pop the ‘p’ purposefully.

Caleb turns in a semi-circle to you, his boyish black hair skating over his eyes as the cockiness returns in a grin.

“Actually — might wanna grab your that shoe you tried attacking me with and its twin, then go wait for me in the living room. Can’t have you runnin’ barefoot on the sidewalk. You catch colds too easily.”

In true Caleb fashion, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

But you have better things to do than placate me!

(It isn’t placating if I want to do it, pipsqueak.)

But you probably have to return super early in the morning!

(Don’t care. I’ve pulled all-nighters worse than this.)

Caleb, you really don’t have to—

(Don’t finish that sentence.)

So you don’t.

Words cease to exist the minute you see Caleb walk out of his bedroom wearing his original Deepspace Aviation Administration dress uniform. You’ve only seen it once before at his graduation, all buttoned up in properly pressed olives and golds.

He walks towards you with that signature smirk of his, the one that makes just about everyone in Linkon City — and now Skyhaven — swoon no matter where he goes.

He looks beautiful.

(He should be out spending this holiday with a proper girlfriend, not you.)

It’s the mantra on your mind the entire way to the restaurant.

The way he holds the door open for you.

The way he pulls your chair out and makes sure you’re properly situated at a candlelit table.

The way he reaches across the table to squeeze your hand as if to reassure you—

Or himself—

That it’s not weird.

It isn’t, right?

Being here with the person who knows you best after all these years when you were meant to be sitting across from a damn near stranger; it isn’t like anyone in this restaurant knows your unusual upbringing, what you mean to one another.

So you squeeze back, and you see it: the tension in Caleb’s shoulders fades away.

For what it’s worth, his friend’s restaurant is far better than whatever you were going to have with your ghost.

The two of you share a bottle of wine and have the longest conversations you’ve held since he left for the academy.

Like the old days.

The ones where you’d spend countless hours in the summer heat enjoying the fireflies.

The night skies littered with stars and swallowed by light pollution — that never stopped Caleb from telling you all about the planes passing over your heads.

Infectious; the sheer excitement to think of a new tomorrow waiting at the end of today.

And like two kids who didn’t know any better, you fell victim to speaking like the other would be an important part of that very tomorrow.

Video calls nightly, reduced to phone calls.

Phone calls weekly, reduced to texts.

Texts to… well, surprises like this.

Now, in the present, he’s still important. He’s still your gege, even if that title is a square piece trying to fit in a circular hole.

No person will ever fill the Caleb-sized hole left in his absence as he reaches for the stars he so desperately wished to seek.

(And the wine’s beginning to taste like he needs to know that.)

“C’mon. Hop up.”

You’re several blocks from the restaurant walking in silence when Caleb is the first to break through the silence.

Ordering any and all desserts off the menu that your heart desires, demanding the check to pay completely on his own dime — he’s spoiled you and then some tonight.

I’ll take care of you, remember? That was my promise.

Except this is Valentine’s Day.

(Don’t you understand the importance of Valentine’s Day, gege?)

The question lingers on your tongue with venomous self hatred. Caleb has always been quick to act as your savior, putting your needs above all else, but this was the one night where you wanted something special.

You can’t be special to the man walking beside you, not in the way the holiday suggests.

Too many problems.

Too many implications.

(We’re not joined by blood, only wine.)

That very wine turns sour the longer your heels irritate your feet in this slow, silent trek back to Gran’s house.

It’s when his melodic voice snaps you out of your mental spiral, causing your eyes to meet a softening violet gaze.

Winking, he assumes position: the taller man playfully squats with his hands low and at the ready to catch you mid-flight.

“What?” you finally blurt, trying to catch up to where this came from.

“C’mon, you’ve been wobbling on those heels for two blocks,” Caleb states, nodding once and nearly knocking his aviation cap. “Get on up here.”

“You want to carry me?”

“Does it look like I’m proposing anything else?” he retorts. “Don’t get big and brave. Big and brave means we’ll be dealing with blisters.”

When you hesitate a second more, his voice drops to a gentler tone.

“You’re overthinking, pipsqueak. I don’t want you hurting your feet. You got a city to keep safe in the morning, remember?”

Damn it.

He’s not wrong.

Relentling as you sling your small purse over your shoulder, you assume position with your arms wrapped around his neck.

When you hop up, Caleb effortlessly catches you without so much as a grunt from the added weight.

“Thatta girl. See, was that so hard?”

“I don’t have my hunter’s license yet,” you answer instead, combating his earlier sentiment as you relax against his back. He’s always been strong, but you're surprised by the sheer muscle nestled against your chest. “I’m not saving any lives right now.”

“You never know,” he states as he easily maneuvers across the street to stay the course leading to Gran’s house. “You’re smart. Capable. Strong. Who’s to say you don’t graduate early?”

“Oh, har-har,” you grumble as you drop your cheek against his back. Even if you can’t see it, the low chuckle he emits helps you envision a growing grin. “I won’t be graduating tomorrow. Early, maybe, but definitely not tomorrow.”

“How’s it going, by the way?”

“Mm?”

“Hunter school, duh.”

“Oh, you’re asking now?”

Caleb turns a corner, giving him a momentary pause. “You didn’t seem like you wanted to talk about it at dinner.”

No, you didn’t.

(It’s so irritating, being seen sometimes.)

“Besides getting ditched for a date?” you inquire. “Not bad.”

Biceps tense against your sides.

“You didn’t get ditched,” he corrects, airier than before. “You made better plans.”

“Technically you told me to grab my shoes, so I didn’t make anything,” you argue in return, the wine adding a boldness to your tongue. “I just followed your orders.”

With a tsk, tsk, tsk under his breath, the fingers around your thighs squeeze the bare flesh as a teasing warning to knock it off.

Caleb finally crosses the street to Gran’s front door, only setting you down to fish the front door key from his uniform pocket.

As soon as he has the door opened, however, he props it with his knee and loops an arm around your back.

Using the hand curled around your upper arm, he pushes you backwards and straight into his arms. He scoops just under your knees in a bridal style carry through the threshold of the house.

Your shriek twists into a bewildered cackle at the abruptness of his gentlemanly reprise, your arms scrambling to hold his neck for dear life.

He carefully maneuvers you both into your bedroom. “What?” he asks with amusement peppering his tone. “Something up?”

“Yes!” you laugh as he gingerly sets you down on your bed. “Or — I guess not anymore.”

Caleb grins as he drops to a knee, his slender fingers deftly working on the loops of your heels.

“Haven’t heard you laugh like that since high school.”

“No?”

“Nah,” he states, sliding the shoe off with caution — avoiding any possible blisters they may have caused while simultaneously searching your heel and toes for blemishes. When satisfied, he starts on the second heel. “It’s nice.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m being serious, pipsqueak,” he replies, brows knit together with another huff of amusement. “I was afraid hunter school would’ve wiped off your sense of humor or something. The pros in the field always seem so… serious.”

His fingers absently rub along the arch of your foot, pressing into the tender muscle with the pads of his thumbs.

Your eyelids flutter from the sheer pleasure of such a simple movement.

Just as you’d hoped that maybe he’d continue tending to the weary soles of your feet, Caleb freezes.

His hands remain where they are, but his eyes drop to your lap to avoid yours.

Something feels… off.

Like there’s something on the tip of his tongue — something maybe lingering on yours as well — but the silence engulfs the telepathic conversation warring in your minds.

So you break it, skirting past the tension.

“This is the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had,” you admit under your breath, earnest and appreciative.

Caleb’s chin lifts without hesitation this time, his violet eyes wider.

The muscles in his cheeks twitch, suppressing a smile before it can fully surface, before speaking just as softly.

“Your only — hopefully.”

“Not my only, no.”

When his face falls, you cheekily follow up with a growing smile of your own.

“Technically you used to always be my Valentine, back in the day, so I've had Valentine's Days to remember before. Don’t think I forgot the baskets you used to make up for me so easily.”

It takes a second, but life eventually returns to his face in screaming color.

If the room wasn’t so dark, you’d swear the man kneeling before you was blushing.

“Damn, you remember those crappy things?”

“Do you seriously think I’d forget my after school Valentine’s Day baskets, Caleb? Really?”

“It’s been a while,” he argues, letting go of your foot to rest both palms on the ruffled sheets on either side of your hips. “We were just kids.”

“Yeah, but it meant something.”

Just like tonight.

Caleb has always gone above and beyond for your comfort.

(Your praise.)

Always putting your needs before his; always sorting out solutions that benefit you the most; always coming in last for eating, for sleeping, for taking showers, for…

Everything.

Even tonight, so long as it means it makes you happy.

Yet even if the wine loosens your secrets, you don’t expect him to confess why he spent so much of his waking hours catering to you and you alone.

(Square space, meet circular abyss.)

His eyes crinkle as he smiles up at you, admiring what sits in front of him.

The look makes your stomach somersault, heart yearning to reach for him — to touch the warmth of his skin and bask in an endless summer —

“You look deep in thought, pipsqueak.”

Caleb’s voice takes you from the dreamlike fantasy, short-circuiting the directive to never speak about what’s right in front you.

“You said this was a date, right?”

The question falls out of your mouth faster than intended.

Still all smiles, you note the furrow in Caleb’s brow.

“Sure, why?”

“And it was good?”

“I mean, I thought so,” he states. “We didn’t even come home with leftovers, so I can’t imagine you’re gonna tell me that you hated the restaur—”

“Don’t good dates usually end with a kiss?”

Every ounce of heat in this room vanishes in a flash.

The playful smile remains, but the intent shifts from earnest to disingenuous in a flinch.

A mask; micro-movements in the muscles of his face show a new story about the night, one not as innocent as his knight in shining armor may have originally displayed.

You can only hope you aren’t reading between the wrong lines.

When your question isn’t met with an answer, rejection squeezes your stomach mercilessly.

You didn’t read between the lines, no — you crossed them, possibly to a degree you may never recover from.

“It’s fine,” you blurt immediately, waving your hands wildly in front of your chest.

Caleb’s face falls in worried despair, and you find that this new onslaught of adrenaline is making you nauseous.

“Wait—”

“Forget I said that. Whoops, the wine—”

“Hey, no, don’t hide from me.”

Before you can press your palm to your forehead, those same warm hands curl around your fingers to tug it down.

“C’mon.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid—

In an attempt to create some distance, you push yourself back onto your bed and swing your bare feet out of Caleb’s orbit, side-stepping him completely.

Standing to take to a pace, you don’t have the willpower to ask him to leave.

“It’s fine, seriously. Thank you for the nice night,” you keep going, trying to talk yourself out of the panic you feel eroding your belly.

Crying would just make this worse.

“Pipsqueak, don’t.”

“You said you had an early morning, right?”

Finally turning to face him, his image is watery at best.

You blink as fast as you can to eliminate the tears brewing in your eyes, but they seem to be working faster.

Caleb’s eyes grow impossibly wide at the sight of your struggles, as though your confliction hurts his very goddamn soul.

His long legs take one stride, another, a final until his large hands imprison your face to stare right into his.

You realize too late that he’s leaning in.

Dipping down.

—and a pause.

What was once covered in ice is thawed, and soon the warmth — the heat — of the most important man of your life returns.

Those violet eyes stare down at your nose, dipping lower, cursed to stall.

You don’t move.

Couldn’t, not when your lungs have seized with confusion; anticipation.

“Tell me not to.”

His voice doesn’t sound the same — once cocky and confident, walking through life with everyone adoring his Midas touch, now withers and dies as a broken plea.

His breath mixes with yours.

You can still smell the red wine on his tongue.

“...Caleb?”

The pinkish flecks of his eyes flicker when he raises his attention.

In the dim light of the window, he looks boyish here.

Scared.

“Tell me not to,” he weakly repeats. “Just tell me not to and I won’t.”

Oh.

Now you’re the one at a loss for words.

“If you didn’t mean to ask,” he clarifies, tone trembling, “if you want to rewind to five minutes ago, then I’ll go to my room. I’ll leave in the morning, but if you —”

Stopping himself, the man looks physically pained when his eyes close, inhaling slowly as if to settle his budding nerves.

The tension in his jaw bubbles, clenches, until he exhales through his nose as steadily as he can.

“But if you say yes, I won’t be—”

“Please?”

The word — the request, the plea — escapes faster than intended.

So does Caleb’s restraint.

Both hands holding your face drag you forward, your bare feet sliding along the floor, until you feel a gentle pressure on your lips.

Your hands grab the front of his uniform, balling the fabric between your fists as you decidedly press back.

His makes a noise of surprise against your mouth, melting into the reciprocation.

You notice as you both exhale, parting for only a moment before pressing lips against lips once more, that his hands are shaking.

Maybe you’re shaking, too.

Because it should feel wrong. Every time you’ve fantasized about being the girl he takes to a formal, the woman his eyes linger on for too long from across the bar, you’ve been struck with the immense shame in the back of your mind.

Wrong, like he was ever truly blood.

Wrong, like the fates laughed in the face of undeniable desire.

Wrong, like you would ever love anyone more than Caleb.

Nothing has ever felt more right.

All you can focus on is the way he smells, like woodsy cologne and red wine; the way he touches you so preciously, his thumb absently running along your cheekbone the longer you kiss in the middle of your bedroom; the way he sounds with every press and pull, gutted with pure arousal and want.

Your name, fluttering against his tongue, before it glides along your lower lip.

You don’t deny him.

He groans as if your refusal to stop could ruin him, but there is a sharp inhale before a chill passes against your glistening lips.

Caleb pulls away to find a purchase of air, violet eyes as dark as deepspace while regarding the haze of affection he’s met by your fluttering eyes.

“Hey.”

The greeting is shy.

Small.

Swallowing to coat your dry throat, you weakly reply. “Hey.”

“You good?” he murmurs, petting the crown of your head affectionately.

A dam has broken — for the next few minutes, you have Caleb at his most raw.

Gone is the guarded expression you’ve learned to live with, replaced with radiating affection.

Despite yourself, you nod.

“Should I ask where you learned to kiss like that?”

He huffs, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”

Wait.

Your expression smooths with recognition. “What do you mean—?”

A smile, euphoric and unabashed, breaks out.

“What, you think I’m busy kissing aliens or something when I’m out flying?”

Scorned by his playfulness, you bump your fist against his broad chest.

“Caleb.”

“What?” he teases. “You asked — but, ah… no. That was—”

His brow knits for a moment, a blush creeping up his neck to his ears.

“My best effort at my first. Why, couldn’t tell?”

You.

His first kiss happened with you.

Your lips tingle with the shock — the sheer satisfaction — of holding that title.

“Don’t go back to your room tonight,” you softly state instead, reaching for his hand to squeeze it. The blush on his face only intensifies, so you let out a tiny scoff. “To cuddle, genius. I’m not looking to check off all of the boxes in one night.”

Caleb makes a tsk sound with his tongue before tilting his head.

“Preserving my honor, I see.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Even if you’ve gone past the point of no return—-

Even if you’re crossed the line—

Somehow he’s still Caleb, and you’re still you.

You thought that if one day you both took the impossible, forbidden leap of faith, that it would destroy the very foundation of what you’ve been since you were children.

Yet it feels like it was meant to always be this way — as if it’s as catastrophic as a rogue breeze on a summer night.

Taking his hand, you pull him back to your bed.

As you slide onto the mattress to get comfortable, Caleb shrugs out of his uniform jacket, leaving him in a white tee.

He crawls alongside you the way he used to during thunderstorms, scooping you close to his chest while his heavy arm settles around your waist.

Protective.

You settle against him just as you always have, eyes closed.

Only the feel of his heart racing against your back remains.

For a moment you both lay here, basking in what’s happened — what will never be the same — before his voice murmurs against your neck.

“If you ever wanted to check off all of the boxes—”

His nose nuzzles your skin, humming at its scent.

“—they’ve always been yours to take.”

author's note: caleb gripped me tight and raised me from season depression perdition and i owe him my life (dramatic but true). this is my first ever lads fic despite being a week one player so tysm for reading !! i hope to write more in the very near future. happy valentine's day, tumblr friends. xoxo amy

#caleb love and deepspace #caleb x reader #lads caleb #caleb lads #caleb x mc #caleb fluff #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace fic #lnds fluff #lads fanfic #lads fluff

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bunny-jpeg · 5 hours ago

Text

raw

lando norris

tags: smut/pwp, unprotected/unsafe sex, half-assed pull out method, doggy style, back shots, friends-to-lovers, best friend!lando

lando had to be dreaming. the type of dream he didn't want to wake-up from. he would much rather be here than anywhere else right now. especially as you crossed your arms, letting the mclaren logo stretch across your pretty tits.

the tits that lando had been eyeing for years now. you were his best friend since childhood and now you were in your hotel room for the evening after silverstone with a single request for the grand prix's winner.

fuck me. and fuck me raw. lando had to be dreaming.

you uncrossed your arms and leaned back on the bed with your arms stretched behind you. you gazed up at him. the face of your best friend, the one who knew you better than anyone else. and after years of skirting around the issue, you finally found your words and asked him. and he looked you dumbfounded.

"you? me?" he said as he tried to process your words. you felt a tightness in your chest at the anxiety that was eating you up inside. you didn't know what to say or do.

"am i speaking french, lando? i want to have sex with you, it's about time we resolve this tension. it's been going on for over ten years." you said as you maintained eye contact with him. you felt a little bad for not being the most romantic.

it was hard for you to admit. your entire life you stood firm on the fact that men and women could be friends without any complications! and while you still felt that, you also found yourself with complicated feelings for lando. so, with all the bravery you could muster, you asked for sex.

he shifted from one foot to another, "i don't know how to respond... i mean i do. i just don't wanna sound like a pervert." he chuckled nervously and you only grew warmer in your face.

"do you want me, norris?"

he took his hands out of the pockets of his joggers and cupped his barely hidden erection. he gave you a gentle smile as he said, "i do. i do want you, you've been the subject of my fantasies for a long, long time." and started to take his shirt off.

you did the same, slowly revealing more skin to one another. you felt excitement race up you and you couldn't help yourself. you rubbed your thighs together and felt your pulse pick up.

"lando."

"i know, babe. i know." he chuckled as he got into bed with you. he got his boxers off before he was completely nude, his hands trailed across your body in a manner that left you excited all over.

if your friends knew what you two were doing tonight, hell even your own families, you knew that there would be exchanging high-fives and possibly money over bets made ages ago.

"may i?" he asked as he leaned in closer.

you leaned in to meet the distance and kissed him on the lips. soft as you imagined and his hands only held onto you in a way that made you shudder under him. you moaned into the kiss as he rubbed up against you.

"you tell me if anything goes wrong, okay? don't hide from me." he said, "one thing i hate when it comes to sex, no communication. i want to make my best friend feel good."

you looped your arms around his neck and pressed your chest against his, "i have a feel after tonight we're not going to be best friends."

lando replied, "well, you'll always be my best friend. you'll just also be my girlfriend." then winked before he went in for another kiss. it grew heated and his touches grew more bold.

you looked at him and he smiled down at you. he cupped your cheek while you held him close. it felt right to be this way, to be so close. you kissed him once more and he exhaled deeply against your lips. you two fit perfectly together, just as you always did.

"you want it raw?"

"yes."

"i'll pull out, alright? gotta play it a little safe." he kissed the apple of your cheek before you ended up on your stomach. he hiked you hips up letting your back curve as he pressed himself against you. now on his knees and his cock at full attention.

you looked amazing, beyond amazing. a certain type of beautiful that when lando sank into you wet cunt, he felt the race of excitement through his body. he held onto your hips and carefully inched himself into you. he moaned a little louder, the feeling was intense, there was nothing else he could compare it to you. you were unlike anyone else he had ever slept with. it was different because you two were so close, you shared everything. now you were sharing a night of heated passion.

he admired your backside as he rocked against you. his hand trailed down your back and he loomed over you. you felt amazing, you left a certain want in the back of his throat as he moved against you. lifelong friends, partners through and through. now lovers in bed together, moving together in a heated ecstasy. you both wanted each other, it was painfully obvious.

"you feel amazing." he said softly, "really amazing."

"glad i have a glowing review from lando norris." you chuckled lightly as you held onto the covers under you, your back arched a little more as he hit all the right spots, "can i put that on my tinder profile?"

he pushed you further down onto the bed by the shoulders and moved against you faster, "no way. because you're not going on tinder." he kissed the center of your back as he held you, "because you're my girl now. how does that sound? no more lackluster tinder dates and finally being with the guy you had a crush on for years." then laid another sweet kiss on your heated skin.

you felt the stimulation, your brain felt a little hazy. you moaned a little bit and tensed up for a moment. you panted, "fucking hell, lando. always a way with words." you looked over your shoulder at him as he thrusted against you, "got us into trouble and out of trouble over the words."

he gave you a wicked grin and replied, "oh yeah, and you love it," then pressed into you further. hands on your hips once more as he worked himself against you. the pleasure was zaps in his blood and the feeling was immense.

this was his best friend, and maybe years of pining left him feeling desperate for you. he spent years trying to find you in other people. turned out the whole time he just could have had you. and that made him feel a flutter of love in his chest.

"you feel amazing." he said softly, "better than i could ever imagine. you spoil me, honey." he chuckled lowly as he kissed the shell of your ear as he continued to move against you a little faster.

"fuck, lando." you exhaled deeply, paired with a soft whine as his cock hit against all the right areas. it felt good, better than you could imagine yourself. you knew a younger you would be blushing at the idea that you finally got with lando. having sex in a spacious hotel room and letting him just have his way with you. you fit together quite well, it didn't hurt that you were soaked in the process.

achy for sex. achy for him. you were needy for the sexual pleasure between the two of you. like two magnets drawn together no matter the distance. you were his best friend, and now his lover. his girl.

you moaned a little louder as the pleasure started to reach its peak inside of you. you held onto the covers under you and arched your back a little further. you cursed into the covers and the sight of you was beautiful. to come completely apart under his touch.

"beautiful." he said softly.

"fuck, lando." you shuddered and was met with a hard pat on your behind. the feeling of his hands on you, "you better fucking pull out or i'm gonna kill you."

"of course, of course.' he cooed, "save the kids for after marriage." his tone was cheeky and your pussy clenched around him. he chuckled and leaned up against your ear, "cute." and you whined.

his quickened his pace and he felt the hunger for you in his core. he couldn't believe it. part of him believed that he got hit in the head on the track and this was a fantasy of his. but, hey, if he was currently in the hospital with a goose egg on his head from being hit and this was what his rattled brain could come up with. then who was he to deny it. especially when you felt so good under him.

you tensed up around him once more and gasped against the covers. your eyes squeezed shut as you let out such a sweet moan. you shuddered as you felt yourself reach your orgasm, "fuck." even swears sounded heavenly on your lips.

he remembered trading pokemon cards with you, the time you watched him kart and cheered the loudest out of everyone. the times together, the totally platonic sleepovers. everything, fuck. to have you now, not as a friend but as a lover. that was everything to him.

you climaxed and it only pushed lando further. he pushed right up into you and made you near scream from the sensation. you two moved against each other roughly. but lando had to keep a sense of control or else he was going to finish inside of you.

"that's it. baby, that's it. fucking perfect for me.' his voice heavy with lust and it made your head throb. your cursed into the covers and lando fucked you harder, "next time i'm gonna make you finish twice. burn out your brain." he kissed your cheek, "perfect girl deserves all the orgasms she wants."

"flirt." you whined, face shoved into the covers, which only made lando laugh.

"glad you finally picked up on it, after fifteen years as friends." he thrusted into you a few more times before he pulled himself out and rapidly jerked off his cock against your back. it wasn't the same as the what of your cunt, but it would have to do. his pants were heavy as he said, "that's it, baby. fuck, look at you. you have driven me crazy my entire life. no one else can compare to you."

you laid there panting, your core swamped with wetness and your back curved to let him paint your back with his cum. you whined when you felt the splash of his cum against your backside.

"fuck." his voice was guttural, his breathing heavy and his eyes near rolled back into his head as he came across your hot skin. he felt sparks in his brain and could barely form a coherent thought as he came.

when it was all said and done, he rested fully on his heels, his cock limp between his legs. he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and exhaled deeply.

you laid there, not wanting to get cum all over the sheets. as the temperature in the room cooled, you lifted your head a little and said, "lando... can you help me clean up?"

and your best friend turned lover woke back up from his sexual trance and said, "oh, of course! yeah!" then quickly went to find a towel in the bathroom.

you knew you'd had to have a conversation about what you were now. but with butterflies in your stomach you knew you wouldn't be walking out of your hotel room without a lando as your boyfriend <3

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stevesgother · 2 days ago

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omg horny blurbs. struggling to take horsedick harrington! ‘its too big baby’

we all know i'm a horsecock steve harrington truther so here ya go anon :)

18 + below the cut

You knew your boyfriend was well endowed, to say the least. A pair of too-tight, blue Levis hates to see Steve Harrington coming. This was your first time seeing it without that pesky denim barrier.

You'd felt it, sure, after three months of heavy petting sessions in the driver's seat of his Chevy. But tonight, things had escalated past the point where the grinding comes to a halt and Steve drives you home like the gentleman he is.

Steve is being anything but a gentleman right now.

Your dress is hiked up past your hips, revealing a pair of baby blue underwear. Not the sexiest pair you owned, but it hardly mattered when Steve started to teasingly slide them down the meat of your thighs.

"You're shaking, honey. Is everything okay?" He asks you so tenderly as he gentle holds your trembling palm in his larger calloused one.

"Yeah-- Yeah, I'm just," a pause, "you're really big." You admit sheepishly.

"We'll go slow, baby, I promise." He reassures you as the hand that's not holding yours strokes the side of your cheek. He kisses you languidly as his thick digits circle your clit tantalizingly slow, "Can I touch you here?"

You nod a little desperately and he hums in acknowledgment. His middle finger breeches your entrance and he curls them inside of you; perfectly bumping your most sensitive spot in a way you've never been able to on your own.

You keen and Steve takes the opportunity to suckle on the spot just below your ear, eliciting a whine from you. You decide you should probably return the favor, even if it's hard to focus on anything except the way Steve is fucking you on his fingers.

His cock is frankly huge. It's not only long but girthy too, with an upward curve. The thought alone of fucking yourself on it makes your mouth water as you wrap a hand around his shaft. He gasps in surprise at the motion, evidently not expecting it. You run a thumb over his leaking, red slit and he groans your name.

"Want you to fuck me, Steve," you whisper against his lips as he begins to kiss you again.

"You're sure?"

You nod fervently and that's all the confirmation he needs to line his head up with your sopping heat. His hands find your hips, lifting you and then slowly lowering you back down until you're able to take him to the hilt.

It's a big stretch. Any partner you might've had in the past could've never prepared you for the sheer size of Steve. It burns deliciously as you're being sheathed with him, but it quickly becomes overwhelming.

"You're too big, baby, I can't"

"Shh," he shushes as he pulls you flush to his chest in a strong embrace, "yes you can, sweetheart, I've got ya'"

Once you're fully seated on him, it's as if you were made to fit. The thatch of hair on his pubic bone provides the perfect amount of stimulation on your throbbing clit as you begin to ride him.

"God-- you're so tight, fuck," he's already panting and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a bit of an ego boost.

His words give you the confidence to bounce on him a bit faster. You can feel him in your stomach, practically rearranging your guts. Every time you sink back down, his ruddy head hits that perfect spot inside you, sending you hurtling towards your orgasm embarrassingly fast.

"Good girl," he groans, "keep bouncing on my cock, baby, that's it."

Whereas before you were more reserved in how vocal you were during sex, now you're crying out without restraint; chanting Steve's name like a prayer.

When he feels himself becoming close, he swiftly moves a thumb to play with your sensitive button-- needing to get you off before himself at least once. His own personal rule.

"Oh! Yeah, Steve-- don't stop, don't stop--" you're all but shouting now.

"I won't, baby, I won't--" he assures, "that's the spot, huh? Can feel you squeezin' me-- ah!"

You come with a cry of his name, your hands tangled in his chestnut hair, giving Steve the greenlight to let himself finish. Both hands grab you abruptly to life your hips enough for him to pull out.

With a few more quick strokes of his cock he's coming with his head thrown back and several heady grunts. You lean forward to kiss and nip at the constellation of beauty marks along his stubbly neck. They're one of the first things you'd noticed about him when you met.

"Was that good for you?" He pants as he comes back down to Earth with you.

You stroke the side of his face with your hand, pushing the damp hairs that stick to his forehead away before kissing the spot where they had been, "That was amazing, Stevie."

He gives you a short peck to your plush and waiting lips before once again pulling you in. You stay just like that, flesh to flesh, and count the stars until the sun rises again to replace the moon.

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kawhh · 1 day ago

Note

Thinking about accidentally grabbing one of Luke's jerseys when rushing to get to one of Jack's games and well...... obsessive Jack doesn't take too well to you wearing his brother's number....

You knew you'd fucked up the minute you got in the car, realising that the jersey doesn't fit right. Doesn't smell right. Doesn't make you feel as warm and safe. It's just wrong.

It isn't fully your fault. But you know that's not gonna work as an excuse for your soon to be angry boyfriend.

It's not your fault that he clearly hung the wrong jersey up in the wardrobe. It's not like you looked. Why would you check? Luke doesn't share the room with you too, why would his jersey be in there?

It's too late now though, you're already running late. You'll be lucky to get there before puck drop. Hopefully that means Jack won't have much time to notice though, won't have time to look for you in the crowd.

Shame you don't really know how obsessive your boyfriend is.

He knows which seat is yours. He knows you aren't there early like normal, he's concerned. Stalking your seat with every lap of the ice. Watching the stairs, staring up at the timer. It's the second biggest mistake you've made tonight.

He knows the minute you turn up. He's been scanning every single time he goes back to the bench. He knows you don't look right. You aren't relaxed, you don't look like yourself. It doesn't take him more than a shift or two to see why. For his eyes to blaze with anger seeing another number on your body.

You're fucked. You see how he's shoving people. How he's getting in trouble on purpose, wanting to be able to glare at you from the penalty box. To have those minutes of pure eye contact. You're surprised he doesn't get a game ejection. He's been escalating everything to get majors. Getting increasingly annoyed, just wanting to rip the jersey apart. To make you beg for his forgiveness.

You try the damage control plan. Getting up from your seat to get to the locker room as fast as you can after the game, needing to explain yourself before he can fully blow up. Not realising that it's way, way, way too late for that.

He knew what you'd try. He's alone in the locker room. You don't realise Luke is still there, hanging around in the shower. You don't hear him dropping things in shock, but Jack does. He's perfectly aware. Perfectly aware as he doesn't even talk to you, doesn't even look at you, shoving you to bend you over his locker stall, your head bumping against the wood. Ripping your leggings open, slamming in without warning. Making you scream his name as he smirks into your neck, knowing Luke can't leave.

"Fucking brat, wearing his fucking jersey instead of mine. Need me to fuck you in front of him? Make him watch? Make him get the fucking memo? We're not leaving here until I'm drained, maybe that'll make you behave less like a slut."

#jack hughes #jh86 #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes smut #jack hughes imagines #nhl smut #nhl imagine #dark jack

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mejaemin · 3 days ago

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˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖₊˚♡˚

valentine boy

˚ʚ jeong jaehyun ɞ˚

final day of my valentine’s day countdown!

wc ♡ 1.9k

summary ♡ it may be jaehyun’s birthday, but he still likes to celebrate you, and does so in the form of four love letters.

warnings ♡ suggestive, fluff, SO MUCH LOVE IT’S DISGUSTING, jae is SUCH a sap and SUCH a romantic in this, my heart hurts

lia's note ♡ happy birthday to my love, my light. i miss jaehyun so much, and he’s really so special to me. i couldn’t help but pour my heart into this, and i wouldn’t have it any other way

playlist 🎧 completely - jaehyun, best part - daniel caesar ft. h.e.r. , give you the world - steve lacy, sunny days - wave to earth

congrats to those who guessed jaehyun for day nine! @cigsaftersuh and @jae10velies are two very smart cookies 🌹🫶🏽

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖₊˚♡˚

when you roll over in bed, first thing in the morning, you reach your hand out for your boyfriend, only to be met with nothing. popping one eye open, the bed is empty, the bed made on his side. sighing, you sit up, waking yourself up to go find him, when you finally notice the envelope laying on his pillow.

letter one ♡˚₊‧⁺˖

‘good morning my sweet thing ♡ happy valentine’s day.. if i’m not back by the time you wake up and open this, i went to visit my parents for a little. we’ve got a long day ahead of us, but mom wanted to see me for a little since, her words, “your birthday comes first, yuno! come visit your mom before you spend the day with your girlfriend.” i would’ve brought you, but you looked so pretty and peaceful while sleeping, and it would’ve ruined my plan, so i left you home. on that note, i know you told me not to do anything for you today, but i can’t help it :( spoiling you is my favorite, and it’s how i want to spend mine our day, okay? now, once you’re ready to get up, there’s something waiting for you in the bathroom…’

the ending of the letter is quite ominous, but it leaves a smile on your face nonetheless. you tell him every year to let you do all the gift giving, fully ready to discard valentine’s day and put his day first, especially when the former was made as a way for companies to gain money. still, he insists on celebrating you at the same time.

getting up out of bed, you make your way to the bathroom to get ready. as soon as you walk in, there’s another envelope taped to the sink mirror. pulling it out of the way, you set it aside to get yourself ready. the whole time you’re washing your face, brushing your teeth, you have to stop yourself from smiling at the idea of what’s to come later on in the day. jaehyun’s always been a loverboy, to an almost poetic extent, and upon looking at the letter sitting next to you, you’re sure there’s more to come, and you can’t wait to read all the loving words he’ll say to you. once done, you take the letter and sit back down on the bed to read it.

letter two ♡˚₊‧⁺˖

‘now that you’re opening this letter, i’ll assume you’ve woken up then? good, because i’ll be back in the afternoon to start our day. i wish i could be there to get ready with you, watch you open your first gift, but since i can’t, why don’t you check the closet? i’ve picked something out for you that i know will look perfect on you. i can’t wait to see it on you, and confirm my prediction. i can envision it now, you’d look so beautiful in that dress, it’ll compliment you perfectly.. okay, i have to stop now, or i’ll have a problem. anyway, enjoy your outfit my love ♡‘

with a smile you go over to your shared closed excitedly, pulling the door open and flicking the light on to reveal a beautiful dress in your favorite color right at the front of your clothing rack. pulling it off the hanger you immediately get dressed in it, stepping back to look at it on in the mirror. it’s fits perfectly, complimenting your body shape in all the best ways. when you look back in the closet for shoes to pair with it, there’s another envelope on the floor that you must’ve missed.

letter three ♡˚₊‧⁺˖

‘you’re getting dressed now, aren’t you? i hope you like the outfit. if not, don’t worry, we can get something else when we go out, okay? don’t stress. now, i’ll be wrapping up with mom pretty soon, so why don’t you finish your routine, okay? do yourself up however you like, in whatever way makes you feel prettiest. i’ll love it regardless. when you’re done, there’s something out in the kitchen, okay? i love you so much, baby. enjoy.’

with a soft giggle, you sit down at your vanity and start putting yourself together. even in the letter, jaehyun always reminds you of how much he loves you, in every form that you can take. he always uses the gentlest and most loving language he can, holding your heart with the most care. his love is so strong that when you fix your hair and do your makeup, you don’t feel a need to try too hard, doing the bare minimum, and thanks to him, you feel good about yourself just like that.

with the final touches of your appearance done, you grab your phone off the charger and check it for the first time today before you do anything. without fail, jaehyun’s texted you a string of good morning messages and words of love. you of course send some in return, thanking him for the letters and lightly teasing him for being a sap. you share a laugh before you shut the device off, making your way to the kitchen where your jaw drops.

there’s an entire display on the kitchen counter, rose petals scattered over the granite with a full bouquet in the middle, a bundle of prada gift bags sitting next to it. there’s a teddy bear as well, and one final letter with a card propped open next to it, reading ‘will you be my valentine?’ with the most perfect penmanship. you snap a photo, sending it to him with your reply, an obvious yes, before opening the last letter.

letter four ♡˚₊‧⁺˖

‘again, happy valentine’s day my love! i hope you enjoy all the gifts i put out for you. i know what you’re thinking, by the way. you’re mad that i’m spending money on you when it’s my birthday, aren’t you? if i were to tell you i’m sorry, i’d be lying, and that’s just not something i can ever see myself doing to you. more than anything, today is a day of love, and i’d rather celebrate us than make it all about me. my birthday wish is to keep you by my side and love you forever, every inch of you, and it just so happens that the day of love is at the same time. now, may i tell you why i love you so deeply?

we’ve known each other forever, and i’ve seen you grow into a beautiful, beautiful woman, with a wonderful personality that can warm an entire room. your laugh is more beautiful than any song i’ll hear in my life, and your smile is so bright, blinding in a way that makes me never want to look away. i’d let my eyes burn to nothing if it means i can continue to see it. i love the way you carry yourself as well, so thoughtful and considerate to everyone around you. you have so much love and kindness in your heart, and i’m so lucky to be a recipient of it. i’ve learnt so much from you as well, and i’m so grateful for the person you’ve helped shape me into. you’re truly everything i’ve ever wanted and more. i’ll cherish every piece of you that you give me with my whole being, and i promise to never let it go. my love for you is unconditional, and i’ll trace every ridge, scar, or imperfection in your body with nothing but adoration because it’s all perfect in my eyes.

i’ll save the rest of my sentiments for when i can say it out loud, okay? save you some reading. for now, remember that i love you with everything i have. happy valentine’s day, my love, my sweet, my peach.

-your forever only, jaehyun ♡’

his words are so beautiful, and you have to get a paper towel to hold to the corners of your eyes to stop the tears from messing up your makeup. he’s always so shy about things like this, getting flushed in the cheeks and ears at even the most simple words of affirmation. you know he’s a romantic at heart, but it still blows your mind every time you see him take a pen to help convey how he feels. he always lets his true feelings out when he has pen and paper, and it makes you cry without fail every single time. he really knows how to touch your heart, his words so sweet and loving.

you’re busy unboxing everything, a pair of sunglasses and a new bag in your hands, still letting his love letter sink in. you’re so stuck in your own world that you don’t even notice that jaehyun returned until his arms wrap around your stomach, his chest pressing into your back. his lips press against your temple, then your nape, and your eyes flutter shut as your body leans into his.

“happy valentine’s day.” he speaks softly, spinning you around in your barstool so you’re facing him.

your arms reach around his neck, pulling him closer so you can leave a sweet kiss on his lips. “thank you, baby.” you give him another one, “and happy birthday to you.”

he thanks you, pulling you flush to his body. you stay there, encased in his strong arms for what could be forever, you don’t know nor do you care, because it’s warm, safe, and comfortable. his head rests on top of yours, one hand gliding up and down the side of your body, the other on the back of your head. he’ll kiss your crown a few times, soaking in your scent, before pulling away.

your hands are intertwined, resting in your lap. “now that we’ve celebrated us, can it be your turn now?” you smile up at him, and his face is full of love.

his cheeks turn rosy, and he nods. you’re immediately up and out of your seat, shuffling your way into your bedroom where you pull out a birthday themed gift bag and box, followed by a valentine’s day basket. he opens them, overjoyed to see a photo album with a collective of polaroids from the past year, along with a new vinyl for his collection. the basket has a bunch of candies and small trinkets, along with a stuffed animal of the animal you’ve always said represents you. his smile reaches his ears as he looks through all his gifts, and a billion kisses are left all over your face as a thank you.

even more happiness fills his eyes when you take his cake out of the fridge, lighting the silly cartoon candles and singing to him. when you finish, he’s very thoughtful as he blows the candles out. you share it together, small enough to have in one sitting before putting all your new items away to finally head out for the day. he continues to treat you the entire time you guys are out, buying nearly everything you touch and complimenting you for even the littlest things. he has so much love to give to you, and it’s not even because of the holiday, or his birthday. he conveyed it to you many times throughout his letters, that he’s constantly thankful for you and your presence in his life, regardless of the date or who’s being celebrated more. the love continues to show even when you go back home, wrapping up the day, when there’s yet another display on the bed that wasn’t there before, which he lays you down on and continues to give you all the love he has.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖₊˚♡˚

perm taglist: @chenlezip @coquettejunnie

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aerifim · 3 days ago

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your boyfriend isn’t necessarily the type to say the words “i love you” up front to your face or even say that he is in love with you around his friends, and although that seems like a red flag to most—you wouldn’t have it any other way.

it may seem as though that your boyfriend doesn’t love you simply because of his laid back presence majority of the time in school. a lot of your classmates assume that he isn’t a good boyfriend, and often tells you that someone like him doesn’t deserve someone like you.

“your personalities clash too much!” your classmates would often say. and, while it was true that your personalities were the complete opposite—you wouldn’t say it clashed in the way they thought it did. your personalities actually fit perfectly together, as if they were the two missing pieces in a puzzle.

and it’s not like your boyfriend is a complete tsundere, either. you believe that he is the sweetest person you’ve ever met in this lifetime, and just because he refuses to show much of his sweet side publicly shouldn’t mean anything.

your classmates don’t have to know what happens after school-when you leave your last block of the day and go to the school gym to simply watch him practice, waiting for him to finish so the two of you could walk home together.

your peers don’t have to know that everytime you enter the gym—whether you enter quietly or one of his teammates points your presence out—he starts to get flustered and his whole “tough” demeanour changes.

you often hear his friends teasing him for how whipped he was for you, and while he was in denial, everyone in the room knew that he really was in love. you knew that he was no matter what he said—you saw it in the way his gaze would soften, the way he would stop whatever he was doing just to chat with you, the way he would be so gentle with you compared to the way he would hit the volleyball with such strength and power.

your boyfriend’s love spoke more through his actions, and it contrasts from his constant teasing remarks. he would offer you his jacket on chilly days without a word or a hint of hesitation, always made sure you had a seat right next to him on the bus, and never failing to remember your favorite snacks or daily cravings. he remembered the biggest and smallest details about you.

so, at the end of the day, you don’t need to hear a constant “i love you” from him—because you know he loves you through his observant gestures. afterall, actions speak louder than words.

♡ akaashi keiji, tsukishima kei, rintarō suna, kageyama tobio, hajime iwaizumi, miya osamu + your favs

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toasttt11 · 3 days ago

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no one else

summary: being best friends for years and both of them are finally single on valentine’s day means spending valentine’s day together

jack hughes x reader

She leaned against the wall waiting as the elevator took her up to Jack’s apartment level.

She has known him for years now since they both were wide eyed innocent eighteen year olds in a brand new city and have been best friends since then.

She’s seen his up and downs and he has seen all of hers, this year for the first time in a while they both were single on Valentine’s day so Jack suggested they celebrate it together at his apartment and they would be alone as Luke was gone on a trip with friends.

If she was being honest she would say she’s been in love with Jack since he was eighteen but she won’t admit that even to herself she still has feelings for him and she doesn’t want to mess up their friendship so she pretends she doesn’t anymore.

She knocked on the door and it immediately opened and her eyes glanced up and down seeing him in a nice pair of black jeans and a green sweater that brings out his eyes even more.

“You look beautiful.” Jack smiled seeing her in a red long sleeve shirt, white jeans and red flats with a red bow in her hair, he kissed her cheek and took her coat and hung it up and rested a hand on her back as he guided her into his apartment.

Her breath got caught in her throat seeing his apartment, it was covered in multiple bouquet of flowers, candles across everything, the lights dimmed and she could see the dinning table set up like a fancy restaurant and two plates of food she knew Jack cooked with two glasses of wine.

“You really planned this? Remind me how you’re single, again?” She asked teasingly after she got over her shock trying to ignore her beating heart at Jack’s actions and trying to not read into this too much and only get disappointed.

“Because no one else is you.” Jack nonchalantly shrugged, he saw it as sign that they were nothing single finally and he was done with hiding what he felt for her.

“What?” She whipped her head around to Jack expecting to see a teasing look on his face but he looked fully serious.

“I’ve been in love with since the moment i meant you. I just thought you weren’t interested and it’s totally fine if you aren’t i just need you to know.” Jack quickly started rambling getting more and more nervous as she just stared at him.

“Of course i am.” She breathed out looking fondly at Jack as he paused looking extremely shocked.

“You are?” Jack let out softly watching her intently as she took a step closer to him, his smile growing.

“How could i not be.” She mused fondly stopping right in front of him and she slowly grabbed his hand making their hands perfectly fit together, “i just never you never were interested.” She told him.

“Of course i am.” Jack scoffed playfully repeating her words getting an even bigger smile from her.

“That’s good.” She breathed out her eyes flickering between him and his hand as he brought his hand up to gently cup her cheek and she happily leaned into him.

“Yeah?” Jack whispered back as he leaned closer to her.

“Yeah.” She nodded slightly and closed her eyes all but melting into him as their lips finely touched.

Best Valentine’s day ever.

#toast’s valentines blurbs 💕#jack hughes #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fluff #jh86 #nhl #nhl blurbs #nhl x y/n #nhl x you #nhl x reader #nhl blurb #nhl fluff

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eschairsnotebook · 1 day ago

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MOVING IN

The moving truck sat idle in the afternoon sun, the air inside thick with heat and the lingering scent of sweat and effort. Jason wiped his brow as he glanced around the empty lot, ensuring that no one was near. He heard his wife calling for him somewhere in the house.

The muscular mover had slumped into the back of the truck, his massive frame collapsed in exhaustion as his legs dangled off of the tailgate. His was chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths. His shorts rode up over thick, powerful thighs, and his shirt had bunched at his waist, exposing ridges of muscle slick with sweat.

Jason’s pulse pounded in his ears. This was it. A chance like this—so perfect, so surreal—would never come again. He climbed up carefully, his heart hammering as he stepped over the mover’s sprawled body. The man was a beast, his muscles carved from hours of labor, his scent raw and intoxicating. Jason knelt beside him, hovering just over his body, inhaling the deep musk that radiated from the mover’s skin. His fingers twitched as he traced the firm, sweat-slicked ridges of his back.

He swallowed. He had fantasized about this moment for so long—about wearing a body like this, stepping into its strength, feeling its raw power as his own. And now, with the mover helpless beneath him, he had his chance.

Jason maneuvered himself closer, pressing against his firm rear, aligning himself just right. His fingers dug in between the mans firm gluts, feeling the warmth of his opening. Then, with a shuddering breath, he pushed.

A shockwave of sensation rippled through him as his body crawled into the mover's. It was overwhelming—his vision blurred, his nerves igniting in a rush of pleasure and control. His limbs stretched and realigned, filled, expanded—muscle swallowing him whole, his mind merging, twisting, until he wasn’t just Jason anymore. He was inside the mover, his consciousness slipping effortlessly into the role like a glove fitting perfectly over a strong, calloused hand.

The heat of the mover’s body became his own, the rough scrape of stubble along his jaw unfamiliar yet intoxicating. He flexed his new hands, curling thick fingers into a fist, feeling his biceps bulge with power. His breath came heavier, deeper—his voice now a rich, masculine growl as he groaned and sat up, rolling his broad shoulders.

Jason grinned. No—not doormat Jason. Not anymore.

He was this now. A beast of muscle, strength, and sweat. And no one would ever know.

He grabbed the mover’s discarded cap and pulled it onto his head, adjusting it with a cocky smirk as he stepped off the truck. His thick legs moved with effortless power, his boots solid against the pavement. Time to finish the job.

Because now? This was his life.

He worked through the job, reveling in the ease of strength and endurance his new body granted him. Each lift, each shift of weight, filled him with a deep satisfaction. But the real thrill came when he saw her—his wife. She stood by the doorway, her frustration with her husband, wherever he was, momentarily subsided. She was watching him with a mix of curiosity and interest, completely unaware that the man she loved was inside this borrowed skin.

Jason wiped the sweat from his brow, giving her a cocky grin. "Ma'am," he drawled, his voice thick and unfamiliar, "you got a fine home here. You must have a man who takes real good care of you."

She flushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I do," she said, her voice light, teasing.

Jason felt a thrill shoot through him, hotter than anything he'd ever known. Flirting with his own wife, seeing her react to him—or at least, the man she thought he was—was exhilarating beyond belief. His heart pounded as he leaned against the doorway, flexing just enough to watch her eyes linger.

"Well, if he ever needs a hand… you know where to find me." He winked, enjoying the rush of power, of secrecy. This was a game he could play forever. And as he stepped across the threshold outside towards the rumbling truck he realized... he would.

#male possession #male body possession #male takeover

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snoopychris · 2 days ago

Text

loml

warnings: angst with foreplay, p in v, lots of mentions of pregnancy

as much as the media could try to portray it as the best place on earth, sometimes it was the absolute worst. Hollywood. the only industry on earth where if you messed up once, forget about everything you had ever worked for. if you ended up on the wrong side of a breakup, forget about ever being seen on a red carpet again. if you had famous parents, forget about any credit ever being given to you– it would all tie back to your parents unless you were charming enough from a young age. luckily for you, thats right where you landed. you were Hollywood’s sweetheart from day one, known equally for your charm and being Jason Segel’s daughter.

it was fairly known that you had never paid for any sort of role in your life. never getting anything just handed to you, no, you always worked for it. you were always known for working for it. known for trying to be as independent from your father’s projects and having your own. it wasnt a shocker to anybody when you had started your own clothing brand at age 21. it was at the launch party when you first met matt. the youtube boy— who was skyrocketing to fame with his brothers on their own accord— right there at your party. like the rest of the world you had seen him online before, but it was so different in person.

whereas his online persona was the quiet one of the group, the one who got the least amount of action, his real and true self was the exact opposite. he was charming in every sense of the word.

even with all the flashing lights and loud noises that should’ve been distracting you, even with the constant nagging from the photographers and interviews around you, and even with your dads constant tugs on your arm to get you to pay attention, all you could manage to focus on was him. and the same way you could only focus on him, matt could only focus on you.

nick was nagging him to take a few pictures, chris was begging him to light up just one more time, his manager was trying to pull him away to go get some publicity. the distractions just weren’t working. for either of you. and when the both of you finally locked eyes, you both just knew. complete strangers at the start of the night, but by the end of the celebration, it was the start of the best love story hollywood had seen in recent years.

one month in.

the giggling in the house was all that could be heard. it had been nonstop for hours at this point. chris and nick would usually be sick of the lack of silence in the house, but seeing their brother so happy made it more than okay. they could have left a while ago, but it was a lot more fun to watch this love story unfold than to go to a random store to shop. you and matt just fit so perfectly together. even the lines on your palms managed to match up. it’s like somebody in the heavens above had made one person and split them into two bodies. that’s just how perfect it all was.

the two of you hadn’t been seen together in public yet— much to the dismay of the paparazzi who had seen the spark that ignited at your party— but it was better this way. even without an official label, it was better to keep some stuff more public. this wasn’t their relationship after all, it was yours. it was yours and it was everything both of you had ever needed and more. there wasnt a single second where anything felt wrong. it was nothing but mutual love and happiness.

“hey lovebirds we’re going to In-n-Out, do you guys want anything?” Chris asks, grabbing onto his car keys from the table. it feels like its part of a movie script when both of you reply with the same thing. “plain double-double with fries!” the grip you had on matt’s shirt tightens when you break out in another fit of giggles, face burying into his chest as he holds onto you as if you were about to leave him forever. Chris smiles at his brothers actions, following nick out the front door. “Nick fifty bucks says the get married.” Chris whispers, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. Nick shakes his head in denial, pushing his brothers wallet back. “it wouldnt be smart for me to bet against it. i know they’ll get married.”

three months in.

for the first time in your entire Hollywood career, you had a date to a red carpet that wasnt your father. this time, Matt was right by your side for the entire night. the outfits the two of you wore were coordinated to one anothers to the last detail. your dior converse-style shoes matched matt’s tie, your baby pink dress matched matt’s baby pink suit, your headband matched his belt, and even though the cameras would never see it, even your undergarments were matching. his grip on your waist was tight, as if making sure that nobody got too close to you or to make sure that nobody was bothering you. the flashes coming from the crowd were constant and expected, but this time just felt so different than all the times before.

this time it felt like the moment was being photographed, not the people. it felt like every good feeling in the world all tied into one with a ribbon. matt’s whispers of silent nothings into your ears just made it all better. one picture in particular made magazine covers. an image in which matt was gripping onto one of your hands while his eyes were locked onto your lips and his free hand was pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, all while you were looking directly into his eyes while the rain began pouring over the previously sunny california skies. it looked like it could be straight from a romcom. it seemed like your relationship was straight out of a romcom.

when the event was over, there was no question about where you would end up. your apartment was nice and quiet— far enough from downtown los angeles to give you the privacy you so desperately needed sometimes, but close enough to be within a drivable distance to the constant events and shoots you had to do. upon arrival, matt’s soft lips were kissing all over your body in the most loving way possible, words in between every phrase that left his mouth as if he were writing a poem and you were his muse. “my sweet girl” kiss “god, am i lucky.” kiss. “this is everything i could’ve ever asked for and more” kiss. “you make me feel things nobody’s ever made me feel before.” kiss. “you truly reformed me, darling.” kiss. the last kiss was the most passionate. it was just so genuine. you couldn’t believe the sort of life you were living right now.

“you’re such a romantic, y’know that matt?” you whisper, hands moving to loosen his tie. both of you knew that the night would end up like this from the moment it started, but it was the best possible outcome. he shrugs as he lays you down onto your bed gently, stripping you of your clothes as well as his. he doesn’t hesitate to slide into you as soon as he has a condom on, pulling you into another passionate kiss.

his hand lays on the back of your neck as he begins to move in a gentle pace, making sure that the entire time you felt safe, comfortable, and most importantly, loved. this wasn’t just any act of sex the way both of you had experienced with others before, this was the act of lovemaking. in a way, it was like losing your virginity all over again because of how different it was. in the post-coital bliss the two of you were experiencing, matt still nestled in side you, the words just slipped from his mouth. “i love you. i love you so much.” you smile up at him, your eyes saying everything that he needed to know, but it didn’t take long for your mouth to catch up. “i love you.”

six months in.

“are you sure i look okay? i just… im really trying to make a good first impression and y-your mom seems so sweet but what if she doesn’t like me. or what if she thinks my outfit is ridiculous and that you could do so much better than me and what if she jus-” your rambling was cut off by a sudden kiss, breaking you free from the grasps of your mind and its cruel words. “you look beautiful. she’s gonna love it. she’s gonna love you just as much as i do.” he whispers, his hand resting on your thigh as he pulled into his family’s Boston driveway. your flight had landed an hour ago, and the hour between your arrival to Boston and your arrival to his house was one of the most stressful hours of your life. his words of reassurance were more than what you needed.

the dinner went better than you could’ve ever imagined. matt was right. his parents loved you. his brothers seemed to only love you even more. it was as if you had always been a part of the family. his hand had never left your grip, holding your small hand tightly in his. he wanted to put a ring on it so badly. but he knew it was too soon. he knew it wasn’t time yet. his mother seemed to know just what he was thinking by the end of the night. while you were sitting in the living room having a small chat with nick, matt got pulled aside by none other than marylou.

he hadn’t done anything wrong all night, so he truly had no idea what it could be about. he was quite worried to be completely honest. “i want you to propose with grandmas ring. you tell me when you’re ready and i’ll give it to you. you guys are just so good together that i can sense that it’s going to happen. i’m so happy for you my dear boy.” she whispers, tears forming in her eyes as she speaks. her thumb brushes over matt’s cheek before she gets pulled into a tight hug, a whisper filling her ear. “i promise you’ll be the first to know mama.”

one year in

“this just in! bum bum bum!!!” you joke, matt’s grip on you only tightening at your words. “matt sturniolo keeps americas sweetheart locked in a 10 by 15 foot bedroom in order to keep her with him at all times. stay tuned to see how the story unfolds.” matt lets out a loud laugh at your words, fingers pushing through your hair. “yeah okay princess if that’s what you think this is.” he replies, a kiss being pressed to your forehead. you giggle as you sit up on his waist, hands playing with a loose string on his shirt. he can’t help but admire you in this moment. “matt cmon i haven’t been home—my own home— in three days! i still have a family y’know. plus… my jelly cats miss me”

“so move in with me.” he whispers. your heart stops. you think he’s just pulling some sort of prank on you. it’s just too out of the blue to be real. “matt don’t play like that.” you mumble, burying your head in the crook of his neck. “i’m not playing! i just think… we spend so much time together anyway… you’ve got the money and i’ve got the money… we’d finally have some privacy. we could even get an apartment together instead of moving into yours.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. “okay.” you whisper back, nodding against his neck. he can’t believe his ears. “okay? wait so we’re moving in together?” he asks excitedly, laughing when you nod and kissing your face all over. it was the start of a new chapter for americas favorite couple.

one year, 3 months in.

the panting that filled the room was just the right amount of overwhelming. most of it was coming from you, but a few were coming from matt. his leg was draped over yours, keeping a hold on you subtly. “we’re out of condoms.” he whispers, tracing shapes on your thigh. you nod as you look over at the bedside table, licking your lips. “you’ve been breaking in all the surfaces in the new place… should’ve gotten a twin pack.” you giggle, moving to rest your head on his chest. matt’s arm moves to wrap around your shoulder, finger moving to trace shapes on your back.

“i can’t help it. i’ve got the prettiest girl in the whole industry in my bed. our bed. and i would love to go another round if she’d let me.” his words make you chuckle, pouting your lip teasingly. “if only it worked like that. no, not without a condom. you know that.” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his slight stubble.

“oh come on. you’re tellin me you’re never gonna let me hit it raw? never ever?” he jokes, wincing when you slap his arm gently. his eyes widen at you, as if he’s actually expecting an answer. when he pinches your arm you realize that he is. “well of course i will just… not anytime soon. and i mean i’ve been on birth control since i was sixteen so really the chances are reduced but… the idea of having kids is kinda scary don’t y’think?” you mumble, furrowing your brows. matt shakes his head, stretching one hand out behind his head.

“no not with you. i think i could do anything with you. think you’d be great at all that mom stuff.” your gaze softens at his words, pressing another kiss to his lips gently. “one day.” you whisper, shifting your position to be fully on top of him. he nods in retaliation, kissing your forehead. “one day.”

one year, six months in.

“to a miss y/n segel.” matt states, handing a fancy looking envelope to you straight from the mail. “thought you said you weren’t waiting on anything.” he continues, flipping through the junk mail that arrived. you nod, gently opening the envelope. “it’s cause i wasn’t. i don’t know what this is.” you whisper, gasping when you pull out the contents. “miss y/n… we here at Prada are big fans of your work and the message you try to spread to all of your loyal followers and anybody who will listen. with this letter we cordially invite you and a plus one to visit our headquarters in Milan after Paris Fashion Week concludes this upcoming Winter. please reply at your earliest convenience to the information attached at the bottom of the letter. we hope to see you soon.”

“we’re going to milan…” you whisper, eyes darting to meet matt’s. his eyes widen in shock, glancing down at the letter before pulling you into a tight hug from behind. “oh i dont know… i dont have one of those invites.” he jokes, you push his head away from you playfully, looking into the same blue eyes youd fallen in love with over the 18 months you had known him. “well in that case…”

Matt’s life flashes before his eyes when you sink down to one knee, Prada envelope in hand. “Mr. Matt Sturniolo… will you… go to Milan with me?” you giggle, the faux-proposal turning cogs in matts head. “yes! yes yes yes a thousand times yes!” he laughs, taking the envelope as if it were a ring. he wonders if you would react the same way when he proposed to you in the future. he hopes you do.

one year, seven months in.

shopping for a fashion trip was a lot harder than it seemed. matt was with you every step of the way, but shopping for him was a lot harder than shopping for you was. you groan when you leave the fourth department store of the trip, burying your head in your boyfriends chest “‘m tired… this is hard.” you whine, his hand flying to your hair as he chuckles. “yeah? y’struggling? i told you i think you look great in everything. especially that little white one.” you shake your head, the prominent pout on your face telling matt everything he needs to know. “fine… fine! i’ll take you home” you smile giddily when he makes his way towards the exit, only stopping when you see the most gorgeous dress youd ever seen in a store window.

your breath gets caught in your chest at the sight of it. you just have to have it. your legs carry you into the store, asking an associate to try it on in your size. the second that the dress is on your body, you know that its just the dress for you. it seems like it was made for you with the way the color patterns and style is everything you couldve asked for.

“Matty?” you whisper, tucking one of your hands into one of dress's pockets. Matts heart damn near stops at the sight of you in it. “it looks nice… really nice. I really like it. you gonna get it?” he asks, pulling you close with a small spin. you giggle at the action and shrug, glancing down at the price tag. “I dunno… its twelve hundred dollars. kinda a lot for a dress dont y’think?” the hesitation in your voice is clear. the lack thereof in matts is clearer. “let me buy it for you. you deserve something nice every now and then, my love. Ill buy this for you and anything else you want. forever and always.” he smiles, sticking a pinky out to you to offer a pinky promise. you lock your fingers with his, nodding at his words in agreement. “forever and always.”

two years in.

“Chris… oh my god he’s so little!” you smile, glancing down at the newborn in the hospital bassinet. everybody had been shocked when chris was the first Sturniolo to become a dad. it was a happy accident as the result of a one night stand. he had kept it a secret until his son had been born, the news coming from an incoming facetime call matt received. the two of you had rushed your way over when the call ended, putting you in the place you are now. “Chris hes perfect… oh my god its a baby!” you whisper yell, making sure to be careful due to the babies size. Matt chuckles as he pats his brother on the back, a sign of encouragement.

if matt was worried about becoming a father one day, he couldnt imagine how his little brother was feeling right now. the coos coming from the baby keep earning giggles and baby noises from you, making both matt and chris smile widely. “I want one” you pout, glancing over your shoulder to look at matt. his eyes are about to pop out of their sockets at your words. it had been briefly touched on in the length of your relationship before, but this time felt so much more serious than the other times. he nods, crossing his arms at your words.

“technically that ones fifty percent mine… take him.” he jokes, earning a slap on the chest from his brother. he winces, pouting his lips. “that ones mine… just give her her own.” chris replies, reaching to grab his now crying son from the crib. Matt eyes you up and down, gesturing you over. his arms wrap around you, chin resting on the top of your head. “ill get you one… one day. cant give you one while youre on the pill now can you” he jokes, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. you give into all of the touches, watching as chris interacts with the baby. your heart flutters a bit, imagining it being matt playing with your own children rather than chris being with his. one day.

two years, six months in.

“what if we just dont go tonight? we can stay here… have some mindblowing sex. i can even wear the set you like! cmon pleaseeeeee? I promise ill make it much more worth your while than dinner at the cheesecake factory.” you plead, putting your earrings on regardless. youre wearing the dress that matt had bought you for milan, arguably a bit fancy for the cheesecake factory, but matt insisted you wear it. he shakes his head as he sprays on his cologne, placing your hands in his. “y/n. we’re going. i’ll take you up on that offer of the sex later though. I wanna have a nice dinner with you.” you smile up at the boy, nodding your head.

“Okay… okay fine you win. youre like a disney prince oh my god.” you giggle, placing a hand on his cheek. he gives into the touch, pressing a small trail of kisses up your arm. when he finally reaches your face, he presses the most gentle kiss on your lips. you smile at the simple actions, gripping onto his hands. “Fineeeee. but i want multiple types of cheesecake.” you negotiate. Matt nods, patting his coat to make sure he has everything he needs. he lets out a sigh of relief when he feels that his keys, his phone, and the little velvet box are all in his pocket.

when you finally arrive to the restaurant, youre shocked to see that its not the cheesecake factory the way you were expecting. your breath hitches when you see the interior. the dress youre wearing makes sense now. that little bastard was just trying to trick you. the host leads you to your table, where theres already a bottle of your favorite wine waiting. your eyes dart to matt when you hear him laughing, a smirk evident on his face. “What? werent expecting this were you?” you shake your head, a blush creeping onto your face. his face is confident, but his body language is different. he seems a lot more nervous than usual.

“what’s up with you? youve been so secretive lately… i feel like i havent seen you till today” you ask, mind instantly going to the worst case scenario. matt shakes his head, deciding that if he was going to take this leap, he had to do it now. your hands cover your mouth when matt drops to one knee, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat to pull out his grandmothers ring.

though his breath hitches in his throat when he starts speaking, he pushes through with what he has to say. “i um… i met you when i was 21 years old. im 23 now. i dont think i could ever imagine going from ages 21 to 23 without you right by my side… truly. youre everything i couldve ever possibly asked for and more. i cant imagine a future without you. i cant imagine a life without you. theres no me without you. you take me to heaven every single time you smile… a-and i cant imagine starting a family without anybody else. and y/n… fuck. i dont think i was alive until the day i met you. ive said it a million times before and ill say it again. youre the love of my life. so… will you marry me?” theres tears in his eyes by the end of it, matching the tears in yours. you choke back a sob as you nod rapidly, whispering a long string of the word yes. matt chuckles nervously as he places the ring on your finger, pulling you into the longest kiss he’s ever given you.

2 years, 9 months in

“hey princess.” your dad mumbles as he walks past you in the meeting room, hand resting on your shoulder. defamation scandals were not for the weak of heart— especially for the people who hadn’t done anything wrong. you weren’t even sure where it had come from. some paparazzi who didn’t get the picture he wanted was claiming that you had broken his camera and that matt had broken his nose. your dad had a lawyer ready for cases like this, calling him up the instant that the lawsuit had come through. “daddy i didn’t do anything wrong!” you whisper, looking over at your dad. he nods in response, rubbing your shoulder. “i know you didn’t.” you sigh at the idea of being stuck in this room for another while, especially since matt was still nowhere to be seen.

it feels like you manifested him when he walks into the room, dressed in a suit and tie with a briefcase in hand. he came prepared. matt sits down next to you, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek. “hi my love” he whispers, gripping onto your thigh. “sorry i took forever… the contractors for the house were late and then i got stopped by every red light in los angeles.” you sigh contently as you lay your head on his shoulder, a usual spot got you. his arm wraps around you instinctively, ready for the challenges to come. “we’re gonna get through this. and then we’re gonna go home… and you’re gonna see your brand new house. and then if you want we’ll never attend a red carpet again.” you nod at matt’s words, each part that slipped his lips making you feel better about the case at hand. the relationship was stronger than it ever had been before, and it was the perfect combination of online and offline. you just hoped the media wouldn’t find out about the new house the way they had found out about the apartment and used it as means of exploitation.

“what if we lose? what if we lose the case and we go bankrupt and we can’t have a big wedding and we can never start a family and w-we just don’t get the life we’ve been planning” you ramble, tears forming in your eyes. matt cuts you off with a kiss, shaking his head as he rests his forehead on yours. “any life with you is the life i’ve been planning. in sickness and in health. i’ll never leave you ever.” you giggle at his words, nodding slowly as you begin to relax. “you were like sent from the gods i swear.”

3 years in.

“hey hey hey! hey julian get back here!” matt yells, chasing after chris’ young son while you walked into the door after your photo shoot. you giggle at the sight, setting your bag on the floor and swooping the toddler into your arms. you’re met with a squeal and a collection of laughs from the young boy, eyes moving to meet matt’s. “how do you get him to calm down like that?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. it’s clear he’s been at this for a while. you shrug as you play with the toddler carefully, pressing a kiss to your fiancés lips. “mmmm you smell like a nice perfume.” he whispers, his mouth lingering near yours. he places another small kiss to your lips , being cut off by the toddlers mindless babbles. “maccy cheese?” he asks, his big blue eyes meeting your own. you chuckle as you nod, walking to the kitchen with the toddler.

“can’t believe your uncle matty hasn’t fed you yet” you joke, setting the toddler on the counter. “it’s not my fault! he refuses to eat my food. i think it must be in your genes. you’re meant to be a mother. the mother to myyyyy kids. i’m just… mr steal your girl. and trust after that milan honeymoon you will be a mother to my kids.” matt hops up onto the counter next to his nephew, ruffling the munchkins hair. you roll your eyes at his words, placing the shaped pasta into the boiling water. “and why’d we pick milan again?” you whisper, resting your hands on either side of matt’s legs. “cause it’s the first trip we took together.” he whispers, hand settling on top of yours. it makes you blush, inching your face close to his as you joke. “oh i’ll take mr romantic over mr steal your girl any day”

3 years, 1 month in.

“are you actually smoking again?” you mumble, glancing up at matt from your spot on the bed. he shrugs, flicking his lighter on and holding it close to his joint. it had been his second of the day. you’d prefer weed over nicotine, but it was still an unhealthy habit to have. you wanted to slap it away from him, but you weren’t in the mood to fight today. it had already been long enough. the arguments seemed to be becoming more consistent. as the day of the wedding just kept inching closer, you assumed it was nothing but the jitters.

“you want some?” he asks, holding the joint towards you. you shake your head, glancing over at your birth control on the counter. you hadn’t taken it in a few days, and you worried that if you took it with weed that your body would have some visceral reaction. “can you put it out? it’s making me nauseous.” you whisper, picking at your fingernails. matt shakes his head, instead standing up and walking out of the room. he had never done that before. you sigh as you get comfortable on the bed alone, turning off the lamp besides you. matt returns after an hour or two, arm wrapping around your waist as he whispers in your ear. “i’m sorry… i love you so much i’m sorry. forgive me please. that was the last of it. it’s gone forever now.”

3 years, 3 months in.

you swore that you were going to burst into tears the first time you looked yourself in the mirror in full glam. nick was photographing the entire moment in his bridesmaids suit, eyes glistening with nothing but pure happiness. “work it! oh your dress is absolutely stunning. it’s so shiny and so… you” he chuckles, camera clicks constantly coming. your breath hitches in your throat when you realize that it’s finally here. everything you had been planning for in the past 9 months was finally here. you could’ve had a baby right now. you wipe the tears that had formed in your eyes quickly, ensuring that your makeup remained fine. you glance at nick and smile, biting your lip to hold back anymore cries or tears.

“in thirty short minutes you’re gonna be walking the aisle… and in less than an hour you’re gonna be married to the man of your dreams. i mean! do you know how many people really get to do that?” he whispers, pulling you into a tight hug. you giggle at his words, eyes glancing towards the clock. 30 minutes.

a knock on the door grabs nicks attention, as well as your own, suddenly filling you with fear that something’s gone wrong. the cake or the flowers or the food. you’re not too sure. your worry is lessened when it’s chris who walks in the room, eying nick instantly. “can i talk to you real quick?” he whispers, filling you with fear again. this time your mind goes to the worst case scenario, worrying that something had gone terribly wrong. you take a seat in the ottoman in the room, watching as the boys head out of the room.

nick walks in after a few minutes, but he’s shaking this time. you swallow nervously, eyes batting rapidly. searching for an answer. “what’s going on? is it my dad?” you whisper, standing up instantly. you’re worried. nick hesitates for a moment but then shakes his head, lips pursing into a line. “i almost wish it was… um…” he swallows again, looking back at the door as if someone’s going to come in and save him. he knows it’s no luck. “matt’s leaving.” oh. my. god. you shake your head in disbelief, standing up so quickly that you get lightheaded. “what do you mean he’s leaving? wh-where’s he going?” nick shakes his head, hand running over his mouth. “he’s in the parking lot. go. go now. chris and nate are trying to hold him off.”

despite the struggle that your dress should provide when it comes to running, you manage to do it without falling or even tripping. when you arrive to the small, rocky parking lot of the wedding barn, matt’s right there where nick said he would be. nate’s holding him back while chris is saying unintelligible words to him. “matt!” you yell, tears forming in your eyes once more. “you told her?!?!” he yells, lurching towards chris. chris scoffs in disbelief, moving away from his brother. “you’re walking out on her and i was supposed to keep her in the dark? of course i fucking told her.” you swallow once more, barely fighting back tears at this point. nate takes a few steps away before coming back to take chris along with him. your eyes are desperate for answers. you’re desperate for answers. matt knows that. his hands push into his pockets as he takes a step towards you, avoiding your gaze the entire time.

“i can’t do this… it’s too soon and i’m not… i can’t… im so so sorry. i know that this is the worst thing somebody could ever possibly do but i just… i can’t live a lie. not one this big.” matt explains, though it only causes more questions to arise in your mind. a sob finally leaves your lips as you reach for his hand, which he quickly pulls away. tears form in his eyes too, and he’s quick to let one fall. you want him to so badly hold you and tell you that it’s a sick prank but it’s just not happening. you let out another string of sobs as he begins walking away, the gravel crunching beneath his steps. chris steps besides you, about to pull you in for a hug but you shake your head. you can’t do this right now. so instead you do the only thing you could ever do when you got in previous fights with matt. you yell.

“you’re a coward! you’re a pathetic excuse for a man and you should have never even asked me to marry you to begin with if you knew you wouldn’t be able to pull the fucking trigger! you’re pathetic. i can’t believe that you would ever fucking do this. you’re unfuckingbelieveable.” matt nods at all of your words, climbing into the car regardless. he knows all the words leaving your lips are true. he knows especially that you’re right while he’s driving off. chris and nate both know that they have options on what steps to take next. it takes a simple glance to each other to know what’s going to happen. nate heads inside to tell the guests of your wedding that it’s being called off. and chris is going to hold you while you cry. and you cry. and cry. and cry.

two weeks out

the knock on your apartment door makes you groan. you don’t wanna get out of bed. not today. you were supposed to be flying out for your honeymoon in milan today. it’s crazy how fast things change. regardless, you climb up and pad your way over to the door. chris, julian, and nick stand in front of you, nick instantly pulling you in for a remorseful hug. you begin to cry in his arms again as chris walks inside, looking around the much emptier apartment. it was the first place you and matt had ever owned together. it was crazy that you had even moved back here. “his stuff is um… in the box over in that corner. it’s just the shit he left here when we moved to the house.” you mumble, sitting back on your unmade bed. it hadn’t been made in weeks. you haven’t cleaned anything other than dirty dishes in weeks. if you weren’t so afraid of mold you wouldn’t have cleaned those either.

it feels like everything is an empty shell of what it all used to be. every corner you look at feels like matt’s right there. you can hardly look at your best friend without seeing him. there’s still a picture of the two of you sitting on one of your old shelves, left behind when you had moved to your house in the first place. it was a picture of you and matt dancing on the terrace, taken by nick. the people on that picture felt like phantoms now. you wonder how the girl in the picture—the past version of you— would feel if she knew what would happen. “take that too. and anything that may be yours…” you whisper, wiping tears away from your face. chris frowns. he hates seeing you this down. you were usually so bright. the best smile in every room. he knows he shouldn’t, but he asks anyway.

“is americas sweetheart going to her dads award ceremony tomorrow? or is she gonna keep sulking in her apartment forever?” it’s supposed to make you feel better. somehow it kinda does. “yeah i’ll be there.” you whisper, pursing your lips. chris nods as he rubs your back gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you know you have a great support system around you, but you can’t help but feel empty. especially since deep down you know that the only support you seem to have is going to slip from your hands fairly soon.

two months out

the constant flashing coming from the photographers of the Met Gala has never felt better. the theme of the year was especially fitting for you. beauties of the past vs horrors of the future. you had numerous brands reach out to you and offer to make your outfit, but you declined all of them. you decided to wear the dress you were supposed to get married in. as much as it hurt, it was meant to be the most beautiful of memories. you don’t even feel the need to hold back tears today.

the last thing you could’ve ever expected was for matt and his brothers to be there. you had naturally lost touch with chris and nick over the months. you make your way up the Met stairs, constantly eying matt and his brothers.

once you moved forward at this event, you couldn’t move back. you’d have to wait until you got inside.

when you find your seat, you think the event coordinators must have had it out for you. three months ago, matt wasn’t even meant to be here. and now he was seated at your table. right next to you. you’re the first to sit down, ordering a dirty shirley instantly. it doesn’t take long for matt and his brothers to join you. chris greets you normally. nick greets you with a smile. matt greets you with an apology, but not until his brothers leave the table.

“i’m so sorry for what i did. you were right. i was a coward. i guess i was… i don’t know. so scared to mess it up. mess us up. mess you up. i regret hurting you everyday.” he whispers, pressing kisses to your knuckles. you let it happen, biting your lip gently. you can’t help but blush at the actions, letting the warm feeling take over you. the love between you two was still undeniable. despite all of the things that had happened in the past few

months, it was all still there. it felt like you had placed the love in a casket and begun to bury it, but were still hesitating to fully put it to rest. “you look beautiful.” he whispers, this time straight into your ear. it hurts you to go back so easily, but it’s a lot easier to go home with him

tonight rather than never have him again. you wonder if it’s all a means to hurt you. if it’s all part of his scheme to

pull you back and then let you go again. part of you is telling you to make him stop. to apologize and tell him to leave. you can’t bring yourself to do it. you’re waltzing right back into his life. it’s a dance you’re willing to learn for him.

two months and one day out.

the media had heard the news faster than you could even tell your own close friends and family. somehow, TMZ knew that you had gone home with matt before chris did. your head rested on matts bare chest, eyes staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. it was a completely new house, one he owned with nick. he’d never had you in this room before this. right now, he had you in every sense. your dress laid on the floor near the foot of the bed. your lipstick was smudged all over his face. your underwear was god knows where. it was just like old times. except this time, there was a hole in your heart. you didn’t truly know or understand why. you were so convinced that if you ever got matt back that it’d be okay again. that you’d be you again. the same hole that was made in your heart when he first left you at the altar was still there. when matt speaks, you wonder if it’s the pillow talk or his genuine self. after that day, you can’t quite tell the difference.

“you’re incredible… could never get sick of being here with you. as stupid as i may have been in the past. i love you so so much.” his words are empty. empty promises that hes trying to convince you are genuine. you want to say it back so desperately the way you used to. but it’s never going to be the same again. your mind was flipping through everything you’ve ever been through together. you wonder how many lies he had told you throughout the relationship. somehow by the end of your thoughts, the goods outweighed the bad. you’re scared to let him in again. you push it all down to just being paranoia.

three months out.

the last three months had been an absolute whirlwind of emotions. the week following the Met Gala had been one of the worst of your life. to your surprise, matt had completely ghosted you. it’s like all of his words the day that you were in his bed were nothing more than a script he read from to con girls. he was a conman and he was selling a love scheme. and you had stupidly fallen for it.

for the first time in nearly four years, you had been at a red carpet event with your father again. what used to be a time to photograph americas favorite couple had gone back to being a time to photograph americas favorite single father and his daughter. you knew that matt was one call away if you ever needed him. you would always have a red carpet date if you called. you would always have a friend if you called. you would always have him there in a way.

the hole in your heart remained there. at this point you didn’t think it would ever fade away. you didn’t think it could ever be filled again. whether you found somebody new or not, it would never be him. it would never be the same youtube boy that you had fallen in love with at your party. it was like a switch within him had been flipped. the matthew sturniolo that you once knew was gone. the boy who was once so loving. the boy who would always reassure you that you were good enough. the boy who would always express his wants for a family. the boy who was so willing to jump first if you had asked. he was gone. you weren’t too sure who this new matt even was. the one who was the new hollywood playboy. the one who would make rude comments to people in public. the one who was now known for one night stands. the media could paint things however they wanted, but this time it was accurate. this time, the matthew sturniolo you knew at one point was gone. you’d see it until the day you died. matthew sturniolo was the loss of your life.

a/n: apologies for my crimes against society. happy valentines day everybody!

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws and @13hoax

tags: @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @princessesgarden @ikyoudreamofme @allylovescody @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @user1smvtysturniolo @chrislova @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @throatgoat4u @13hoax @camzeecorner @darksturnz @oopsiedaisydeer @jetaimevous @bernardsbendystraws @muwapsturniolo @riasturns @camzeecorner @darksturnz @oopsiedaisydeer @zebonos AND I REALLY HOPE IM NOT MISSING ANYBODY

#⋆˙⟡snoopychris #⋆˙⟡TTPD #⋆˙⟡matt!#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo au #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo series #matthew sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #⋆˙⟡snoopychris writes #matt sturniolo angst #matthew sturniolo angst

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jjunbug · 2 days ago

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hehe don’t even worry about it!! ♡♡ i’m so happy that i can finally read all your love thoughts on the prologue!! i’ve been waiting for this~~ but will do! 🫡

THE PLAYLISTTTT!!! i spent so much time on it hehe i’m glad that you like it!! and hehe the bog bodies i love that song so much and it fits so well with the future chapters too!! i’m excited for you to see it all ^^

but omg you got the subtle foreshadowing here!!! i love YOUU!!! and the worldbuilding hehe i’m so so happy that you like it so much!! and your super sweet words… stop i could cry. i’m so happy that my writing comes off so atmospheric and so visual that you can see the words like a movie!!! that’s like the greatest compliment ever and one of my goals, so you have no idea how glad i am to hear this!!! ♡♡ and published fantasy books??? i’m sobbing rn omg thank you?????

but yes!!! change is so so jarring and is literally nothing like how the (older) adults in our lives explained it to be and i wanted to show that in various ways. it’s something that i personally struggling with a lot and i’m so comforted but the fact that so many others can relate to me with this and also feel comforted by my words about it!! it truly reminds me that we aren’t in this all alone ♡♡♡

LMAOO😭 you asking if she’s a slave is killing me PLSS,,, i wouldn’t say she’s a slave, but she’s kinda like cinderella except there’s no evil stepsisters or anything just her!! her and her evil “mother” lamia lmao… but and the hound playing during all of this??? oh my… that would rip my guts out too… but hehe thank you so much!!! i literally start ascending when people compliment my music taste (∩˃o˂∩)♡♡ and lost playing while kai is introduced???? spotify perfectly lining up songs for you while reading omg,,, don’t even get me started on my blood,,,,,,

me??? a poet???? hehe stoppppp~~ (๑˃ᴗ˂) i use to be completely obsessed with poetry tho, so this is literally like the highest of compliments!!! reminds me of when i was in high school my english teacher had us write poems and she hung mine up for everyone to see for the rest of the time i was in high school lmao. but you complimenting my write,,, i will start crying omg.

but yesss!!!!! i love kai in this sm~~ him being all smooth and being like “well all queens need a king right??” like i’d literally melt on the spot me and mc are the exact same!!! and then him kissing her hand like OMGGGG,,, but yes hehe~~ this is just the prologue you’re not prepared for everything that goes down in chapter one…!!!

it’s okay lmao i laughed writing it😭😭 same with when i came up with green thumbs. i was like WAITTTT??? am i… a genius???? can you tell i spent wayyyy to much time coming up with the names of literally everything?? the oc names, the name of the inn, the name of the school…. hehe so much to tell~~ there’s literally SO much foreshadowing jam packed into this prologue that i’m so curious on how much everyone caught!!!

althea >>>>>>>>> lamia, that’s all i’ll say.

but yes yes yes THIS!!! him immediately going to her and content to just sit with her in silence if need be… literally besides althea, the only people they have in the whole world at that moment is each other, it’s so strangely comforting and so sad at the same time!! but i’m so happy that you like the dialogue!!!!! you don’t understand how many times i reread all of the paragraphs out loud just to make sure everything flowed well and that the dialogue didn’t seem so clunky… like it was kinda embarrassing but i’m so happy that it came out well!!!!!

and the artwork that inspired all of this!!!! you don’t understand as soon as i saw it i was like YES!!!!!! i need to write something about that IMMEDIATELY. i love artists and writers and poets so so much too, where would the world be without them??

but yes hehe all of the comparisons, i’m so happy that you caught it!!!! and i’m so happy you liked the inner dialogue too!!! i kinda did it a different way so i’m happy that it all paid off!! BUT YOURE LITERALLY SO SWEET AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AHHH!!! (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ )♡♡♡ THIS MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!!!!!! TRUST i will publish a book one day and i’ll never forget all the kind things you and so many others said to me that lifted me up so high. literally going straight into my dedications and i’m so serious.

the timestamp for burn it down by daughter is killing me tho LMAOHSIFHJDFNJDD that’s so funny😭😭

literally gonna cry reading this like,,, i’m so happy that you enjoyed the prologue and thank you so so so so SO much for reading!!! ♡♡ i’m so excited to hear your thoughts about chapter one when i (finally) release it!!! hehe i hope you stay tuned!!!~~

BETWEEN TWILIGHT SKIES ───𝓅𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾: 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

in a world that’s on its dying breath, the once green and lush landscapes get buried in more and more layers of ash. the once flourishing streets that were full of magic are now a dull hum. yet, there is still hope—and it lies in the hands of you and kai, the last people to possess magic. suddenly, you remember the story of a forest that watches, and a well of life that lies deep within. you’re determined to save your bleak world in any way that you can, yet, you weren’t expecting to end up in a brand new world entirely.

pairing ⸝⸝ huening kai 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳!𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘢 (𝘰𝘤) & 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳!𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢 (𝘰𝘤)

genre ⋆ 📖 ⸝⸝ angst, fluff, a lot of yearning and longing (both romantic and platonic), magic, sorcerer!kai

warnings ⸝⸝ kidnapping, toxic environments and parental relationships, implied bullying, two instances of reader getting slapped, violence, death (of people & animals), depictions of gore, implied anxiety attack and abuse, hand holding & staring into each others eyes, tension filled kissing

𝓴ipo’s note ⸝⸝ the series has finally started!! now listen, listen, listen!! i know what you’re thinking, “a prologue and it’s 7.6k????” but i need you guys to STAY WITH ME!!! stay with me and lock in and after reading it all you’ll understand why it had to be this long lmao… next chapter you’ll meet yeonjun hehe~~ i hope you enjoy!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ❨ 7.6k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓼𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝒎𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

‎ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ 𐦍 ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏NEXT ⤇

The world around you had begun to wither away and decay long before it had started to end. As most things do, the rot had started to creep its way in through love. It had used it as a gateway, spreading its sickness all throughout the things you touched until it was the thin wisps of ash coating your cracked fingertips. Still, you let the rot in—let it corrupt the things you loved and change them into something unrecognizable, something unimaginable—something that was now dead and gone. You just couldn’t let go of the small doses of love you were granted with—naively gulping down tasteless sips to fill that hole inside your heart left by people you never even really knew.

You cradled love like a child guards its favorite toy; with fear and hesitancy. It was clear in the way your body hunched over and you looked up at every grown-up through wet lashes. Obvious in the way your dirty clothes hung limply from gangly limbs—once a tight fit but now they seemed to be made for a child much older than you. It must’ve been what enthralled her, what made her decide to pluck a random child no older than five off the street in the middle of the night and take them home.

In a way, you guess you had to thank her for the senseless crime she committed; for it gave you a warm bed to lay your head at night and food to fill your growling belly. It didn’t bother you that it all had come at a price, in fact, you were none the wiser. But, you’d know soon enough. The mask can only stay on for so long before it starts to crack—before it starts to rot like everything else did.

Lamia, is the name she sweetly whispered next to your ear as she tucked you into a bed that was never yours that night. “But, you can call me Mom,” she said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

It was hard watching things change in front of your very eyes. It was never the way people described it for you. Not the slow twist of vines along a column or the grass growing taller than a fence—no. It was the whipping of wind across your face. You’d go to wipe your teary eyes and find the sunny and warm scenery was now cold and dead with glittering snow laying everywhere.

You hated it.

You wished that things could stay as they were for as long as they could. You hated watching the faces of people you’ve grown to know dip and sag with age in an instant. You hated watching the life leave their eyes in a quick blink. And you hated how life seemed to go so slow for everyone except for you.

If you could dare to wish for one thing, it would be more time.

Sweet nights and even sweeter days began to sour, and Lamia—your mother—wasn’t as kind as she used to be when you were still a child. You think that that is what hurt the most with this odd whipping of wind, that you were forced to watch the love your mother held for you leave her eyes faster than you got to grow up to the young teenager you were today.

“Welcome to the Freywolf Inn!” you heard her voice exclaim to the ringing bell of the door. It was a careful blend of welcoming and cheerful. The sound was drowned out of your ears by the incessant sound of a brush against hardwood and soap mixing with water. You sat back on your knees, throwing the brush into the soapy mess and letting it clang against the floor, sighing. You wiped the back of your wet hand across your forehead and sucked in a breath.

Your knees ached and your hands were sore and cramped. This was the worst part of your mornings. No matter how hard you scrubbed these wooden floors, it wasn’t enough for Lamia. If they didn’t shine as if freshly polished when you were done then you scrubbed them wrong and she made you clean them again. Standing up on weak legs, you looked over your shoulder at the new customers as you reached for the bucket of dirty soap water. A soft gasp left your lips and you had to hold on tight to the bucket handle with both hands to ensure its contents didn't go spilling all over the floor.

You’d recognize them anywhere—the Collective, with their hooded, light forest-green cloaks embroidered with gold filigree and its golden satin insides. You never saw a member in person before—not that you were particularly excited to. Seeing a member of the Collective, so far away from the School of Pith, could only mean one thing…

The rot was here.

Frozen like a deer caught on sacred ground, you stared wide-eyed at them as they made their way to the common room, their carefree laughs carrying in the air around them. It felt like a bad omen—a confirmation. You tried so hard to ignore the fate of the things around you, but seeing that you could no longer hide from it was like a punch to your stomach.

Strangely, you also couldn’t help but be morbidly fascinated by it all. You exhaled slowly, steadying your racing heart and stilling your shaking hands that grasped the handle of the wooden bucket. Distantly, you felt the sting of pain across the back of your hands and shut your eyes. Only when every last molecule of air was absent from your lungs did you allow yourself to gulp in more to soothe the burning—just like your mother taught you.

Your eyes fluttered back open and landed on the group of sorcerers. They playfully practiced their magic out in the open—ringlets of green floating in the air and curling around their fingers and forearms. Their hands moved in peculiar ways, a jerk here or a smooth twist of their wrist there. You couldn’t understand it, but the more you watched them perform magic in front of your very eyes, the more you wanted to.

One member stood out to you in particular. He sat off to the side, a small distance away from where the others engaged and practiced their magic at, by himself. Dark hair fell over his warm-brown eyes, but you could still see how kind they were as they watched the other members of the Collective almost fondly. His green hood was over his head and he fiddled with the seams of his white pants with pale hands. There was a ghost of a smile on his face and—unbeknownst to you—there was one on yours too.

He didn’t practice his magic like the others did. He seemed content in just watching, having no need in the selfish display of power the others showcased. It piqued your interest what set him apart from the others and already you could feel a growing favor blossom in your chest for the boy.

He had to be only a few years older than you were and your cheeks warmed at the thought. He reached his arms up and pushed the hood backwards off his head, seemingly oblivious to your staring as were the rest of them. The filtered daylight washed over his body and you saw him more clearly. Your eyes greedily scanned over the slopes of his face, desperate to take him all in as quickly as you could. You couldn’t lie, he was beautiful.

You trailed your eyes over to the wisps of the green in the air. It’s different knowing that magic exists in a world so bleak and actually seeing it in action. It made you wonder where the ash was here in your small village—the rot—so you could watch them smother it. You needed to see those ringlets of green curl around it tighter and tighter until it didn’t exist anymore. Until all of the ash was gone for good.

You wanted to know what it felt like to wield such magic. Your fingers itched to replicate their movements in hopes that green wisps of your own would emerge. Maybe then would your touch not bring about destruction.

A hand roughly grabs your shoulder and breaks you away from the trance you were under. “Stupid child! Can you not hear?”

Lamia’s wrinkled face startlingly comes into view and you feel the bite of her nails in the flesh of your arm through the fabric of the thin dress you wore. You stammered, unsure of what to say and what her previous words were, and blinked rapidly at her accusation.

Wind whipped across your face and too late did you feel prickling pain spread across your cheek. The inn fell deathly silent and your eyes started to water. You swallowed down the lump in your throat thickly, your watery eyes finding your mother’s. “When I ask you a question, you answer it. Do I have to repeat myself?” your mother asked you.

Slowly, you shook your head and willed yourself to find your voice. “N-no, mother.” Your voice came out in a quiet squeak, completely pathetic and weak.

“Good,” Lamia responded. “Dry these soap-covered floors before our customers slip. Then, I want you to ensure the rooms for them are ready.”

“Yes, mother,” you said in that same weak voice.

She looked you up and down for a moment before tsking. Then, she turned on her heel and returned back to where she was behind the counter beforehand. Smoke curled from her mouth as she leisurely flipped through the sign-in book, unaware of the way time changed around her.

You swallowed thickly again, fingers tightening and untightening around the handle of the bucket you still held. Slowly, you turned just enough to look over your shoulder at lounging customers. No longer did they smile and laugh with a carefree attitude and swirls of green in the air. Instead, they stared at you with barely disguised shock. Your gaze snapped to the boy you were spellbound with earlier to find him staring too, mouth slack and sitting at the edge of the couch like he was eager to stand. His eyes met your teary ones and you broke away from the sudden connection.

Lifting the bucket closer to your chest, you rushed off into the direction of the rooms, embarrassment weighing you down and the once unshed tears now falling down your face. You ignored the sloshing sound of the water inside of it and the way the wood hit against your stomach, spilling over the metal lip and onto the floor below, creating an even bigger mess.

Sniffling, you hid yourself in the supply room. Your tears fell freely and a large sob wracked your body. You let the bucket slip from your fingers just inches from the rocky floor without a care and with a piercing thud. Stupid, you thought to yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Get it together. Stop crying.

Yet, the tears wouldn't stop. You heaved in breaths of air that refused to reach your lungs. You didn’t have time for this. If the floors weren’t dry and the rooms weren’t checked on in a timely manner then you’d get worse than a slap across the face. Harshly, you dug the palms of your hands into your cheeks and wiped away the fallen tears. You compelled yourself to take a deep breath, to let the oxygen reach your lungs and not be blocked by the false closing of your throat.

Closing your eyes, you took in another deep breath, and another and another until your body no longer began to tremble. You straightened your back so you weren’t hunched over anymore and wiped your hands down the front of your damp dress. When you felt like you weren’t unravelling at the seams only then did you step out of the supply room to face the world.

Instead of the loud chattering coming from the Collective like from when they arrived, it was quiet and sparse whispers. When you got closer to where they were in the common room, the whispers grew.

You tried to drown their whispers out—opting to instead get to work on your mother’s request. Dropping to your knees, you took the clean towel and aggressively dried the wet section of hardwood floor beneath you, letting all your focus fall onto the repeated action.

Footsteps sounded behind you, but you didn’t hear them until an unfamiliar voice stunned you from your focus. “If I may?” the voice asked. You looked to the side, eyes meeting dirty brown boots whose eyelets caught in the bright sun. They trailed upwards to white pants and gold embroidered filigree onto a light, forest-green velvet fabric. Your hand halted its aggressive drying as your eyes ascended further to meet the boy from earlier’s handsome face. Your eyes widened to saucers and his seemed to be just as big as they looked down at you. “It will all go faster if I do this,” he continued, some of his words wobbling around the edges.

You remained silent, not trusting your voice to not come out raw and abrasive. The boy extended a hand out in front of him and with a twist of his wrist wisps of green emerged and wrapped around it. They swirled out around the two of you, lightly fogging across the floor. You turned to the wet floor in front of you and watched as it suddenly dried, the wood shining in the sunlight pouring in from the window. Your jaw slackened as your mouth fell open.

“It was a simple spell—you shouldn’t have to be on your hands and knees drying a floor,” the boy stated, the second part lower than the first so your mother didn’t hear. He outstretched his hand to you. Your mouth was still open as you turned back to stare blankly at his hand. An amused and warm smile pulled his cheeks upward and you suddenly came to the realization that you must’ve looked ridiculous.

“T-thank you…” you trailed off, voice barely above a whisper, still starstruck by the display of magic and the boy’s smile. You straightened your back before blinking a couple times. Clearing your throat, you accepted his outstretched hand and the boy helped you to your feet.

He chuckled and you felt your knees weaken more. His hand was still holding yours, the both of you forgetful as your gaze seared into each other. The smile slowly fell from his face, his lips parting with unspoken words as he gaped at you as if bewitched. Snickering to your side brought the two of you back to real life and you pulled your hands away from each other.

“Uh,” the boy said, clenching the hand that was just holding yours and trying to form a coherent sentence. His gaze snapped briefly to the other members of the Collective before landing on you again. “U—No worries! It was nothing, really. Kai.” He stammered over his words before his eyebrows raised. “My name. It’s–I’m, uh, Kai.”

Kai outstretched his hand again before he thought better of it and swiftly yanked it away, instead rubbing the back of his neck with it. If you weren’t so disoriented you’d laugh, but you just stare at him instead, the heat slowly creeping up your neck. You then realize how much of a mess you must look and quickly wipe your cheeks to get rid of any remaining tears. “Um,” you start, “I… I’m—”

Your name slices through the air like a knife. You jump, eyes darting over to where your mother stood behind the counter, a saccharine smile pulling her lips as she looked at the two of you. It felt as if you were watching a snake rattle its tail. Looking back to Kai, you offer him the tiniest of smiles before rushing away again, leaving him standing alone.

You’re not quite sure when the obsession with magic started. Maybe it was when you saw how carefree the Collective looked wielding it, as if it was second nature. Or, maybe it was when Kai had so graciously used it to help you out so you didn’t have to spend the remainder of the morning on your hands and knees. All you did know was that it had sunk its claws inside of you, gripping fiercely at your heart and making the hole inside of it larger.

Maybe it was when you started sneaking away from, or even downright rushing to finish, your duties so you could watch them practice magic. Maybe it was the rush you got watching their hands twist and jerk in specific movements for specific outcomes, green coils emerging from the motions.

But, you think it started when you lifted your hands into the air, daring to copy them.

At first, it was nothing, and frustration built up like a brick wall inside you. Then, that frustration turned to resentment, and that resentment into anger.

The Collective were here for a week so far and you weren't sure how long you had left before they departed. Why weren’t you born with magic like they were? If you had magic, it would change everything. No longer would everything rot around you when you could smother the rot all out—bring everything that has long been dead and gone back to life. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

You flicked your fingers in the air angrily as green smoked around the member’s fingers and not yours. Something a mix between and groan and a growl emerged from your throat instead. But, you were determined—and you refused to give up.

Perfecting the twists of your wrists and quick jerks of your fingers, you exhaled steadily and focused on getting the same result the member of the Collective did—cracking open a single walnut without touching it. The walnut sat on the floor in front of you mockingly and you scowled at it before focusing again.

“Come on,” you whispered to yourself. “Come on, come on. Work, please.” With one final twist of your wrist, you heard the distinct cracking sound and a soft gasp pushing between your lips. Your face broke into a smile and it took everything in you not to cheer at the top of your lungs. You watched the slightest hints of green feather away around the lengths of your fingers, so fast the color was barely distinguishable. A smile spread across your face from ear to ear.

“Yes!” you proclaimed, taking care to keep your voice low. A pleased laugh left your mouth and happy tears filled your lash line, “Yes!”

Your view snapped back to that of the Collective in the dining hall. You listened to the way they joked with each other and made water spin into wine—getting themselves drunk and red-faced. As your stare analyzed them, you noticed that Kai wasn’t among them.

It was odd, you thought, but it reminded you of the first time you saw him and how he sat apart from the others. How different he seemed from them. Just from watching the Collective members interact, you already didn’t like them. Maybe Kai felt the same.

You haven’t talked to him since that day—haven’t really seen him around besides quick glimpses, either. A peculiar feeling stirred in your chest and you weren’t sure what it meant. You just hoped that your paths would cross again.

When you weren’t at Freywolf Inn, you were at the craft guild with your nose buried in a book. You were there so often that you were on a first name basis with the stationer, Althea, a sweet lady who distinctly had the look that reminded you of a barn owl. In the entirety of your small village, it seemed Althea was the only one who wasn’t victim to the rot. You felt safe being around her—and she always remarked how much you were like a daughter to her.

She let you freely borrow the books she received or binded and even let you hang out behind the counter while she dealt with artisans and people wealthier than you could ever imagine who came to see her from all over the world. You remember asking her one day why people came from all over to see her wares.

“Not that they’re bad,” you quickly added, leaning the open book onto your thighs as you looked up at her from your hiding spot underneath the counter. She threw you a witty smile over her shoulder from the press she was at, hair the color of cinnamon sticks falling over her shoulder. The two of you felt as if you were moving at the same speed—you barely realized the fact that streaks of white slowly became more prevalent in her hair. “I mean, this is just such a small village… Wouldn’t they go to communes or the King’s Roots where the school is?��

Althea’s voice was nothing like you’ve heard before despite her saying how she grew up in the village. It had a strange accent and the way she spoke was like silk against the bark of a tree. Althea turned from where she worked to meet your questioning look, leaning over and resting her elbows on her knees so she was just about eye level with you, “Not… quite. See, I offer words that you won’t find on a shelf at the School of Pith. Illustrations they wouldn’t dare to let one of their students witness.”

You sat up more underneath the counter, completely abandoning the still open book in your lap. Your eyes shined with curiosity and Althea laughed—a sound that resembled crackling fire. “What kind of words?” you asked her.

“Knowledge, my owlet. There’s much more out there than the green thumbs of Pith—the royals and the wealthy.” Althea spat out green thumbs like food stuck on her tongue. You knew she never liked the Collective, but to this day, she still never told you why.

Althea stood and walked over to one of the shelves that you never touched, but was always only open for certain customers who came inside the guild hooded and quiet. Her finger ran along the spines as her white brows drew together, “There is a forest in this world, buried deep within another.” Her brows lifted as she found the book she was looking for and she made her way back to the counter.

You crawled from beneath the counter, twisting to watch as she laid the thick book down onto it and opened it to the beginning pages. You gently discarded the book you were reading off to the side of the counter, your focus now on the twirling of words and stirring drawings. Althea’s fingers gently caressed the pages. Her face was distant and longing, like recounting a memory that happened centuries ago. “The Forest That Watches, it is called,” she continued. “It’s white-barked trees have black eyes drawn onto them by people from long ago and its drooping pink leaves kiss the sacred ground.”

For a moment, Althea was quiet. You waited patiently, decidedly taking in the open page until she was ready to speak again. You could tell that this forest was a sensitive topic for her and you didn’t want to pry. You looked up at her when she wrapped her arm around your shoulders. She regarded you with a fond smile, “The forest has never been found, though, and it remains watching—waiting. Its pink leaves hide what’s inside; the Well of Life.”

With her free arm, Althea flipped through the pages until it landed on the Forest and the Well. “Woah,” you muttered, leaning forward to get a better look at it. Even from the illustrations you could tell how beautiful it was, feel the magic that radiated from it all.

You knew why it hadn’t been found yet—why it never could be. That much power in the wrong hands would be detrimental. But, you couldn’t help but wonder how different your world would be if it had access to the magical waters Althea was telling you about.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Althea breathed wistfully. “We’ll meet there one day… under the pink leaves and drink from the Well.” She returned her gaze to yours. “Wouldn’t that be nice? Then the turning of the sun won’t seem so fast.”

You sighed to yourself as your eyes fell back to the pages. You leaned your head into Althea’s side and she wrapped her arm around you tighter. “That would be nice,” you say.

In the darkness of the night, you let the shadows listen to your deepest wishes. And how you wish that it was Althea who plucked you from the streets instead of Lamia.

You wander Althea’s shelf now, hands running along the spines. Your fingertips still buzz with the magic you emitted earlier and you swear you can feel the contents of the shelved books calling out to you. Stilling, your fingers halt onto a book. The pull was just too strong to deny and when you turn your head to read the spine you find that the lettering has been rubbed away by time. You hum in slight annoyance before pulling the book from the shelf.

You can feel how Althea’s eyes trail you, especially when you walk over to the counter to take your familiar spot under it. In the corner of your eye, you can see her head tilt. “You feel different. And you’re quiet—quieter than usual,” she says quizzically.

Looking up from your book, a corner of your mouth raises. “Magic, Althea…” Your face breaks out into full-on excitement. “I have it! At least… sparks of it…”

Althea’s face doesn’t change from its quizzical expression. She shifts in her seat in front of the press. “Green?” she asked you, accusatory. You're unsure whether her accusatory tone was towards you or not.

The excitement swiftly falls from your face and you sit up more under the counter. “I… Yeah…” you mutter, avoiding her stare.

“It can’t be,” Althea states matter-of-factly. Her white brows furrow, and she looks away from you. “Can’t be…” she quietly trails off, more to herself than to you. “Green is… can’t be, can’t be. Doesn’t make sense.”

“I think it was green…” you pipe up, voice falling flat towards the end when her piercing black eyes snap to yours. “I didn’t really see the color, it all happened too fast.” It was true, but in your heart you wished it was green. You just wanted Althea to stop acting all fidgety and looking at you the way she did. You held the book in your arms closer to your chest and Althea’s gaze dropped to the movement.

Althea’s body physically relaxed from the tense state it was in, and if you looked close enough, you thought you could see the ghost of a smile on her lips. She hummed, suddenly pleased, “Magic… how enchanting. Have I told you about the White Fawn? Or, the prophecy of Eternal Winter?”

Your brows knitted at the change in her demeanor, but you concluded that it was better to leave it be. You shook your head at her question. “What about faeries?” Althea asked.

“No,” you responded, “what are they?”

Althea slid to the ground in front of you, a grin pulling her mouth and exposing her teeth. She tapped the book you desperately clutched to your chest with an ivory finger. “Why don’t you take a look?”

You giggled to yourself, letting your arms flow in the harmony of the wind. You twirled and moved your body to the tune of nature—to the sounds of the forest’s edge behind you with its rustling leaves and chattering animals. The crown of sticks and fallen leaves fell down further onto your forehead and you laughed more. You didn’t even notice the single brilliant blue butterfly that landed on it and completed your costume.

If your mother saw you right now, she’d be furious. She had sent you out here on punishment with the intention of having you clean the stables behind the inn. Instead, you were dancing The Dance of Youth and pretending to be the Faerie Queen.

You spent all day yesterday reading Althea’s book on anything magical you could get your hands on, which mainly consisted of faeries and the realm they occupied. The books conjured up tales, legends, and myths of those more than human—people with glittering or colorful skin, wings, horns shooting from their heads, and even human-like versions of some of the animals you were already familiar with. It was completely enthralling reading about it all, and feeling all the magic pour off of the pages made you even more giddy. The magic the School of Pith had was nothing compared to the magic you had read about.

In a kingdom so sunny and full of bloom, A deadly winter approaches to cause mass doom. Drowns the kingdom in layers of snow, And becomes a place where nothing grows and no one goes.

You sang and danced around in the grass, pretending that you weren’t human at all, but faerie. That you were queen and the lands stretching from the edge of the forest to the inn was your kingdom. You wished you lived in Faerie where all the other magical creatures resided. That you and Althea could live there together, happy. Maybe even Kai could join you too. You giggled more at the wonderful thought.

Rustling in the forest drew your attention and you halted your dance. You leaned forward, listening closely and peering at the way the setting sun shined through the leaves, but then laughed at how ridiculous the notion was. Of course there was rustling, it’s a forest. You turned your attention back to the doll propped up on a rock, watching you. “Don’t look at me that way,” you say, twirling once more before making your way over to it.

The doll was a sightly thing made out of straw and sticks that Althea gave to you as a child. After all these years you still had it, and you cherished it deeply—making sure to keep it hidden from Lamia so she wouldn’t toss it out. You could hear her voice now, “A girl born in the summer of the thirteenth year of the King still playing with dolls? How preposterous!”

You hummed, bending down to retrieve the doll. “What an odd thing to say… Why should I find a man to marry in order to rule? I am the Faerie Queen. This is my kingdom, I shall rule it how I see fit!”

Too lost in your own dream-like world, you don’t notice the crunching of leaves beneath boots. “Well, all Queens need a King to stand beside them,” a voice said behind you. You spun in place, clutching the doll to your chest. Kai tilted his head at you, an easy smile playing on his lips. “Don’t you think?” he concluded.

His cloak was covered in ash. He and the other members of the Collective must have just returned from defeating the ash in the area for good. The heat immediately rushed to your face and your mind raced. Kai stood mere feet from you and you were stumbling over your own thoughts on what to say. You stood up straighter, trying to appear nonchalant, “I-I suppose…”

How embarrassing it was to be caught in such childlike endeavors—by Kai of all people! You moved the doll behind your back in an attempt to hide it, yet Kai’s gaze followed the action before flicking back up to your face. Behind him, you saw the rest of the Collective ride up on horses towards the inn, snickering at the two of you. “I see Kai has finally found someone willing to lay with him!” one shouted sarcastically.

Kai’s face soured and he looked over his shoulder at them with a glare before turning back to you. Face softening, he took a step towards you. “Ignore them,” Kai says, “They think they’re funny and they’re not.”

He stripped off his velvet green cloak and gave it a good shake away from where you stood. Ash clouded off of it in front of him, making the two of you cough a little. “Sorry,” Kai coughed, letting the cloak fall onto the rock next to him. “So… The Faerie Queen, huh? What’s that? Does that have something to do with your dance?”

You looked down to your feet in even more embarrassment. “It’s… It’s nothing.” You sat down on the rock that your doll was previously perched on. “I can’t believe you saw that…” you muttered under your breath.

“It looked like fun,” Kai laughed, and you looked up to catch the way his smile lingered as he looked down at you. “You seemed really into it, didn’t even notice me coming up behind you. You jumped like a caught baby deer.”

It was your turn to laugh. “A baby deer?” you asked and Kai nodded. “I guess you could say that, but you scared me!” Kai sat down next to you. He pointed his chin upwards, his eyes on the crown of sticks and leaves on your head. “Is that your crown, Faerie Queen?”

Biting your lip, you took the crown off and placed it in your lap. You toyed with the leaves in it. “You should make me one,” Kai says. You looked up at him. He was much closer than you originally thought he was, his shoulder brushing up against yours making you nervous. This close up you could see all the details of his face—his eyelashes that occasionally rested softly on round, smiling cheeks, and the curve of his plump, pinked lips. And his warm, brown eyes that never left your face. “You know… Queens and Kings and all of that…”

You smiled, looking away from him so he wouldn’t see how flustered he made you. “Really?” you questioned, braving his stare once again. “Yeah!” Kai exclaimed. He leaned closer to you, “Only if you see me fit, though, my queen.”

Kai took your hand in his and bent over to press his lips to the back of it, his eyes flicking up to look at you between his lashes. The action set you alight and you were so sure that Kai could feel the heat radiating off of your body. “I’ll have to put you to the test,” you mutter, barely managing to get your words out. “Only the best can rule with me by my side.”

You felt the vibrations of Kai’s laugh against your skin before he sat back up, his hand still grasping yours. His face was even closer to yours now. All it took was one of you to lean a little closer and your lips would meet. “Well, you’ll find that I am the best of the best,” Kai spoke, lowly. His eyes dropped to your lips and he swayed a little. “Nobody stands a chance against me.”

“Is that so?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Mhm,” Kai nodded. He closed the gap between the two of you and pressed his lips against yours. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he used it to cup your cheek and lift your chin to kiss you deeper. You melted into his touch, your lips moving in sync with his. It was perfect, and the feeling of his soft lips on yours was like heaven.

“Why don’t you show her your magic wand!” a voice behind you and Kai yelled in your direction. The two of you broke apart, yet Kai’s hand remained on your cheek. Embarrassment crept up your neck and you could tell from Kai’s red ears that he was feeling the same way. He turned to where the voice came from, brows drawing together to form another dirty glare.

The rustling in the woods was more prevalent now and both you and Kai’s head snapped to the edge of the forest. Before your ears could even pick up on the growling, a large wolf jumped out from between the trees. Both you and Kai raced to your feet and he held a hand out to guide you behind him. You hugged your doll to your chest in fear. Besides his body being tense, Kai remained relatively calm.

The wolf growled and snapped at the two of you, its sharp teeth piercing the air as spit ran down the corners of its jaw. “Awe, he can’t even handle a single wolf… the Ash is going to smoke him out!” Members of the Collective laughed behind you, but Kai paid them no mind. He guided you slowly backwards and away from the edge of the forest.

Kai quickly glanced back at you and the way you trembled, terrified. “It must be hungry,” he said, focusing back on the wolf. Green swirls of magic wrapped around the two of you. “It probably smells the meat from the nearby butcher’s.”

“It wouldn’t kill us, right?” you asked with a shaky voice, already knowing how foolish the question was before finishing it. Kai looked over his shoulder at you again, his face the most serious you’ve seen it, “Make something scared and it’ll do just about anything to get rid of the feeling.”

Just as Kai turned his head back towards the wolf, it pounced at the two of you. Behind it, more wolves prowled out of the woods, snarling. You barely registered that the harrowing scream that filled your ears was your own before you were pushed to the ground.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion for once in your entire life. The members of the Collective who were snickering and poking fun at you and Kai jumped into action, spirals of green emerging from their fingertips. More of them piled out from the inn, along with Lamia. You don’t realize that a hand is grabbing your arm and lifting you to your feet before you’re being pushed out of the crossfire.

All you see is green. At least, at first.

Then, splatters of red cover your vision. The screams and cracking of bones fill your ears and bodies fly through the air. Hot tears run down your cheeks and you close your eyes. Then, there is complete and utter silence.

The silence lasts for a moment before all sound comes rushing back to you so fast it felt like your ears were bleeding. There was screaming and crying and more cracking of bones set into place. You opened your eyes to see that the once green pasture you danced in was covered in red—red so dark it was almost black, and disfigured bodies and torn limbs were everywhere.

You stood up from the mud, eyes scanning through the green in the air in search of Kai. When you found him, tending to one of his members whose leg was missing, you breathed a sigh of relief. He was covered in blood and viscera, but it looked like he was unharmed. Barely taking a step in his direction, nails dug into your arm, bringing about a sharp sting that you were all too familiar with.

Body swinging in the opposite direction of Kai, you came face to face with your mother. Her hand reached up to roughly grab your chin. “What have you done?!” She screamed at you.

You glanced around you, never hearing her this angry before. More tears slid out of your eyes and to the dirt below and you tried to talk around the lump in your throat. You took in the destruction all around you, at the dead wolves that were now being carried towards the butcher who stood a couple feet from you. His voice caught in the air, “...a lamb, yeah.” You looked at how many lives the Collective lost in a sheer matter of minutes—and how it was all your fault. “It… I—” you started.

“You brainless child!” Your mother’s hand striked you so hard across the face that you fell back down to the mud at your feet. “Do you know how bad this is for business? Members of the Collective are dead on my soil!” You held your searing cheek with the hand that wasn’t still clutching onto your straw doll as you looked up at your mother with tearful eyes.

“I… I didn’t m—”

“Shut up. Go. I never want to see your vile face again!” Lamia screamed, her wrinkled face turning as red as the sunset behind her. She pointed a shaky finger away from the inn. You stood up on weak legs, your knees shaking. “But—but, Mom—” you cried.

“Go!”

You gave her one last pleading look before taking off, stumbling over your own feet. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t need sight for the place you were running to. You could find Althea in the dark, bound and soundless, if you had to.

You pushed open the doors of the guild and fell to the floor just in front of the counter, startling Althea and the customer she was engaging with. Your chest heaved and your tears formed a puddled at your scraped and dirty knees. “S-She… They’re all…” Your whole body shook and you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.

Althea rushed to you, taking you into her arms and completely abandoning her customer. You caught a glimpse of them from Althea’s chest and didn’t know what you saw… Scaly skin that caught the light before a clawed hand pulled the hood further over their face, maybe? Althea shushed you and rubbed comforting circles into your back. “It’s okay, my owlet, it’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

Love is a very wretched thing. It lets in the rot and the maggots and the ash. But, you still couldn’t help scraping off the corruption and placing it gently in your heart anyway. You couldn’t let go of the thought that maybe it could be beautiful, that it could be worth the cracked skin.

Instead of your usual hiding spot under the counter next to where Althea worked, you were hidden away between shelves at the back of the guild, alone. A book sat open in your lap, but your mind was too distracted to read any of the words in it. You heard the soft pattering of feet along the hardwood and turned to the sound.

Kai stood before you, completely distraught and still covered in blood from the wolf attack.

You waited for him to speak, but he said nothing. You moved the open book in your lap to the side as you sat up. Your lips parted as you thought of something to say. “T-Thank you,” you said finally. “You saved my life.”

Kai’s eyes weren’t the warm brown that they were earlier. Something shifts in them and you swallow thickly. They were cold, lifeless. Kai just nodded and slumped down to the floor next to you. An awkward silence filled the air and you didn’t know what to say to resolve it.

“How did you find me?” you asked in a meek voice. Kai’s eyes shifted over to you from where they looked out the window to the dark sky. “I saw you run here,” he says plainly. “Followed you.”

Silence penetrates the air before he speaks again. “They kicked me out,” Kai says, his lifeless eyes still boring into you. “They kicked me out of the School of Pith.”

Your mouth falls open in shock and you rush to apologize, saying how it was all your fault, but Kai just shakes his head and looks away from you. He’s still in his Collective uniform, but now the light, forest-green of his velvet cloak seems dull and dark. It doesn’t help that it’s now splattered with blood. “I guess it was my last chance.”

There’s no inflection in his voice, nothing to show whether the result makes him sad or angry or even annoyed. His face is expressionless. The only hint to his inner turmoil is the way his fingers pull harshly at the seams of his dirty white pants. The tips of them are reddened, like he’s been at it for a while now.

Kai turned back to you and reached a hand up to gently rub his thumb along your bruised cheek. His gaze then dipped to the book on the floor. “What are you reading?”

You hand the book to him, the page opened onto the legend of the White Fawn that Althea told you about. Kai hummed, “You don’t really believe in all that stuff, do you? This myth?”

“You don’t?” you asked incredulously. “You have magic, but don’t believe in a white deer that brings about luck and fortune?”

For the first time that night, you manage to get Kai to chuckle. “I suppose you’re right…” he trailed. “I might not be the firmest believer in myths and legends, but I do know a lot about them. We learned about them at the school—more things than you’ll read about in any book.”

Kai glances at you and catches the way your eyes light up. A smile pulls at the corner of his lips. The light still isn't back in his eyes—and his smile doesn't reach them either—but, it’s a start. You look at him as if he just hung all the stars in the pitch black sky.

“You want me to teach you?” Kai asks, and you desperately nod your head.

[ kipo’s note . . . ] wow… a lot happened… you see why it had to be almost 8k words now?? lmaoo i had to set everything up! but tell me how you feel about it all!! what do you think about the faerie realm, or the myths of the forest that watches and the well of life? the white fawn and the prophecy of eternal winter??? lemme know all your thoughts, don’t be shy!!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

🏷️﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @hyukascampfire @xylatox @ghstzzn @izzyy-stuff @sunoosgfv @jihyokat @whosserina @jellymochii @innocygnet @sumsumtingz @riribelle @yeoningz @minaateez @beombunni @jiryunn @lvrs-street2mmorrow @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @usuallyunlikelyfox @blossommi @tinycatharsis

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ecstxsyy · 3 days ago

Text

HOW YOU DOIN’? | D. GRAYSON ❦

Dick can’t control his jealousy.

based on this ask.

18+ mdni!

frat boy!dick grayson x fem!reader

warnings: oral (m!receiving), face-fucking, dick is jelly af.

requests for v-day event are closed!!

cupid’s candy hearts masterlist

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

DICK GRAYSON couldn’t help but be possessive over you, you were his pretty girl. Every single one of his frat brothers drooled over you, their eyes lingering longer than they should when you were in their vicinity. It made Dick go blind with rage, he wanted to smash their faces in but he couldn't risk getting kicked out of his fraternity or out of school.

The two of you weren’t technically together, but everyone knew you were his. The two of you have been fucking for months, it started as a casual hookup here and there. But then, you both decided you didn’t want to stop. You decided friends with benefits was your best course of action, both of you not wanting to label anything.

Tonight was his fraternity, Alpha Phi Alpha’s Valentine’s Day party; everyone was going to be there. Dick had texted you a few hours ago to invite you, but he got no response. He figured you probably had plans with your friends and left it alone, he didn't want to seem clingy. But, what he didn't know was that you had already been invited. His frat brother, Alex had invited you.

When the time came for the party, people began filing in and filling the house up. In no less than an hour, it was packed body to body with sweaty drunk people. Dick found himself scanning the crowd every few minutes to see if you were going to show, he felt embarrassed that he was upset that you weren’t there.

That’s when you walked in, you looked so beautiful it nearly knocked the wind from his lungs. You were wearing a cute pink crop top with a small leather skirt that fits the curve of your ass just right, you knew Dick loved that skirt and he knew that you knew that. His happy look was quickly wiped off of his face when Alex approached you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

It took all of Dick's willpower to not go and wring Alex’s neck, his anger bubbling hot throughout his entire body. He approached the two of you quickly to gauge the situation and see what was going on.

“Hey, you didn't respond to my text. What are you doing?” Dick asked, his eyes gesturing between you and Alex.

“Hey, Dick. Alex here asked me to come to the party with him and I said yes,” you smiled, acting like you had done nothing wrong.

Dick nodded and stormed off, going to find the closest bottle of liquor he could find. He entered the kitchen and found exactly what he was looking for, popping the cap off to take a long swig. Dick sipped the bottle for a while until he got an idea.

“Hey! Everyone! Let’s all play a game of Too Hot,” Dick shouted out with his hands cupped around his mouth, getting the attention of everyone in the living room and kitchen.

Dick got a group of people to play, conveniently including you and sat everyone in a circle in the living room.

“Alright, rules are the brother's spin to pick who they go with and you guys already know, the winner takes the loser to the bedroom to do whatever they want,” Dick announced to the group, locking eyes with you at the end.

“I’ll go first,” Dick said, grabbing the nearest empty beer bottle to spin on the table. Dick somehow managed to spin the bottle perfectly, watching as it came to a halt pointing at you.

Dick used his fingers to make a ‘come here’ motion, smirking at the disdain on Alex’s face. You knew Dick was just being territorial, but you loved to rile him up.

Once you got close enough, Dick grabbed you by your hips and yanked you into him roughly. The both of you put your hands behind your back and leaned in, catching each other in a passionate kiss. Dick wanted to feel you up but he refused to let you win, you needed to be punished for what you did.

Your lips moved in sync, your tongue sliding into his mouth to wrestle with his. While the two of you kissed, you decided you couldn't care less about winning or losing, you just wanted Dick. You let your hands run up his arms, feeling the muscley plains of his biceps. Dick pulled away with a smirk, hoisting you over his shoulder with ease to take you to his room.

Dick shot a cocky look at Alex, smacking your ass roughly letting the sound reverberate through the room while the rest of the brothers cheered him on. Alex visibly deflated in his seat watching the two of you walking away, seeing your giggle as Dick said something to you that he was too far away to hear.

When you reached Dick’s room, he tossed you on the bed and began unbuttoning his khakis. You started to follow his lead and undress when he stopped you with a confused look on his face.

“Why are you getting undressed?” He asked, moving your hands away from the zipper of your skirt.

“Aren’t we going to fuck?” you answered his question with a question, the confusion evident in your expression.

“No, you’re gonna suck my dick and then we're gonna go back to the party,” Dick said bluntly, pulling down his boxers. You frowned and nodded, getting on the floor to get on your knees.

“I don’t know why you’re acting so surprised, after the shit you pulled I should be getting my dick sucked by Jessica,” Dick said while wrapping your hair around his fist.

Jessica was your sorority sister who was so clearly obsessed with Dick, you never paid much attention to her but recently she’s been getting under your skin with her flirting and Dick knew that.

You pouted and opened your mouth, letting Dick insert himself. He used your hair as a guide to move you up and down on his cock, thrusting his hips to meet your mouth halfway. Your gags were muffled by his length while he face-fucked you, tears beginning to spill down your face. Dick moaned out at the feeling, you always took him so well.

Dick was loud during sex, he could care less who heard him or what they thought about him. He let every moan and whine slip past his lips without a fight and you loved it.

Dick’s hips quickened their pace he began to hold your head in place for a moment once your mouth was wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, your head starting to go dizzy from the lack of oxygen. You tapped Dick’s thigh twice, the signal that you needed a moment, and Dick let you off of him. He smiled at the way you gasped for air, giving him a lazy grin while your tears and spit rolled down your cheeks and chin.

“You’re such a whore for me,” he chuckled and slapped his cock against your face and you sat in place and took it, you loved every second of it.

Dick used your hair to guide you back to your place on his cock, returning to his previous brutal speed in your throat. Your tongue began to lick at his tip every time he pulled his hips back, making sure to swipe over his tip to collect all of his pre-cum.

“I’m gonna cum,” Dick moaned out, somehow managing to pick up his speed even more. You were practically sobbing by now, your makeup leaked down your face and your lipstick was smeared across your chin along with the base of Dick’s cock.

His load shot down your throat in thick spurts causing you to gag around him one last time, his hands holding you all the way down on his length to make sure you swallow all of his cum. You swallowed his load once Dick let you off of him, sticking your tongue out to show him you swallowed it all.

“Good girl,” Dick smiled at you, patting your cheek and helping you up. “What do you say we just stay in here and go to sleep?”

You nodded and padded over to Dick’s closet for an oversized tee, grabbing one and stripping out of your clothes to change. You and Dick crawled into bed together once you were changed and snuggled into each other.

“I’m sorry I came with Alex, I didn't think you’d care,” you said with a sheepish smile.

“It’s okay, but can you just be my girlfriend so those assholes can finally know you’re really mine?” Dick asked, putting on his best puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, fine,” you giggled and pushed his face away from yours.

Boy did you love this jealous side of Dick.

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

#fratboy!dickgrayson #dick grayson #dick grayson x fem!reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson smut #dcu #dc comics #dc universe #nay nay writes dick grayson !#nay nay’s valentine’s day event !#smut #18+ mdni #nay nay writes !

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00valentina-writes00 · 9 hours ago

Note

Could we have Ambessa and her chubby/plus-sized wife?

♡♥︎Ambessa Medarda and her Plus-Sized Wife♥︎♡

♥︎ Ambessa has always been drawn to strength, and there’s something incredibly powerful about you. Your size is just another part of the fierce energy you bring into every room you enter. She sees your body as a reflection of your strength, a force that commands attention the way she does.

♥︎ She’s a woman who values loyalty and control, and when she decided to marry you, it was because she saw the way you handled everything—your ability to command a room without uttering a word, your calm confidence, and the subtle way you navigate the world. You balance her perfectly, even if she rarely says it outright.

♥︎ Ambessa’s touch is always gentle with you, but there’s a certain reverence to it. She doesn’t just see your body as something to desire (though she does desire you, fiercely), but as something to be worshipped. She knows how to make you feel like the queen you are, treating your body like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

♥︎ Despite her commanding nature, Ambessa’s protective side comes out when she’s with you. If anyone dares to speak negatively about your size or makes any judgmental comment, you’ll see a side of Ambessa that’s sharp and cutting—she’ll tear them down without a second thought. No one hurts her wife.

♥︎ Ambessa loves the softness of your body against hers. She’s a tall and imposing figure, but there’s something comforting and grounding about the way you fit together. Whether it’s in the bed or simply curled up on the couch, she takes great pleasure in having you close to her, feeling your warmth against her own.

♥︎ She’s not one for public displays of affection, but with you? Ambessa is different. She might slide her hand around your waist when you’re walking through the halls of her estate or press a kiss to your temple when no one’s watching. It’s her quiet way of claiming you, showing the world that you belong to her.

♥︎ While Ambessa is a fierce strategist, she has a softer side that only comes out when she’s with you. You’ve helped her see the value in slowing down, in not always being so calculated. She’ll steal moments from her busy day just to sit with you, running her fingers through your hair or watching you as you laugh about something silly. You’re her anchor.

♥︎ She’ll spoil you, but not in a flashy way. Ambessa isn’t interested in buying you jewels or extravagant gifts. Instead, she makes sure you’re well taken care of, whether it’s providing you with the finest food, softest silks, or even just taking the time to ask how you’re feeling. Her love is practical, always in action.

♥︎ Ambessa is deeply proud of you. She sees your strength in every move you make, and she knows that you’re a force in your own right. The way you stand tall, unapologetically yourself, has her falling for you all over again. To her, you’re beautiful—your size, your strength, your confidence. She adores every inch of you.

♥︎ She’ll occasionally make playful comments about your size, but it’s never in a hurtful way. Ambessa loves seeing you blush or scowl at her teasing. She’s playful with you in a way that she’s never been with anyone else, finding joy in the little moments of vulnerability you allow her to see.

♥︎ When she holds you, it’s like she’s wrapping you in a sense of security. You’ve never felt more safe than when she’s enveloping you in her arms, her strength and warmth surrounding you. She’s a protector by nature, but when it comes to you, it’s less about defense and more about adoration.

♥︎ Ambessa loves your confidence and the way you present yourself. Whether you’re wearing something simple or something extravagant, you always carry yourself with such assurance. It makes her proud to have someone like you on her arm, someone who is unapologetically themselves.

♥︎ In private, Ambessa’s care for you is unmatched. She’s soft with you, taking the time to listen to your thoughts and concerns. She’ll massage your shoulders after a long day, showering you with praise in the most understated, yet deeply affectionate way. She’s never been good with too much fluff, but with you, her love speaks volumes in the quiet moments.

♥︎ She’s protective of your self-esteem. If you ever feel insecure about your body or the way others view you, Ambessa is the first person to remind you of your worth. She’s blunt but honest, telling you exactly how she sees you: perfect, strong, beautiful, and more than enough.

#lol ambessa #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane drabbles #ambessa fanfic #ambessa headcanons #ambessa x you #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa arcane #ambessa medarda #ambessa medarda x reader #arcane fluff #arcane imagine #arcane headcanon

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callsign-rogueone · 22 hours ago

Text

vigil

Sawyer Henrick x reader (Peach!) words: 2.0k 🏷️: end of iron flame spoilers — our poor boy 🥺 time skip, so they’re back at the school now. descriptions of his injury, mentions of intrusive thoughts / ocd, Ridoc being the sweetest and looking out for his bestie’s girl <3 here marks the end of iron flame for them!! future chapters will have spoilers for onyx storm, whenever I get around to finishing it.

“Come back to me,” you whisper into the collar of his flight jacket. “Please.”

His lips brush against your temple as he speaks. “Always. I will always come back to you.”

You linger there a moment, knowing that this may be the last time you’ll ever hold each other. You aren’t ready to let go. You probably won’t ever be. How many times will you relive this moment? Will it ever hurt any less, or get any easier?

It shouldn’t, really.

“Hey,” he says softly, pulling back and tilting your chin up to look at him, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “I’ll be okay. We all will.”

You nod, trying to convince yourself that he’s right. He and his friends will stick together -- and they’re all powerful. They can fight whatever’s out there, and win. That’s what they’ve been preparing for this whole time.

“I love you,” you manage, swallowing the rest of your tears.

He drops a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too. I’ll find you when it’s over, okay?”

Another nod.

You don’t know what else to say. There are no words for this situation, nothing that will make this situation any better for either of you.

You stand there another moment, trying to commit the sight of the other person to memory: how the first light of day brings out the red in his hair, the hilt of the sword he wears across his back, and the grooves he made there that fit his hands perfectly, the flight goggles perched on the top of his head… the pale blue of your healer’s robes and how they contrast against your skin, the flower necklace that peeks out from the collar, and the tidy hairstyle you default to every day…

He’s the first to turn away.

It’s agonizing to watch him leave, but it may very well be the last time you see him — so you stand there, until he crosses the bridge back into his quadrant and slips into a crowd of identically dressed riders, out of reach and out of sight.

All you can do for him now is pray. You close your eyes, beginning a silent plea to Amari and her husband — that’s interrupted by a familiar, but irritating voice.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

You freeze, turning to see Helen, one of the senior healers, who for some reason absolutely despises you. “Ma’am,” you begin, unsure how to continue.

“Is this profession a joke to you?”

“No, of course not,” you answer. “I…”

“Disappearing for a month without as much as a note, leaving all your responsibilities and schoolwork behind to go chase after a boy? If it was up to me, and we didn’t need all hands on deck today, you’d be leaving this infirmary in shackles.”

How the fuck are you supposed to respond to that? Does she want you to beg her to forgive you, or is she content to watch you blink at her like this, too stunned to form words?

“Lowen! I need you.”

You look at her another moment before you come back to your senses, looking in the direction of the voice. “Coming!”

You round the corner, squeaking in surprise when you’re tugged into a supply closet.

Sarah.

You wrap her in a tight hug, taking a moment to breathe. You hadn’t been too worried about anyone at Basgiath, who were still under the wards, but it’s a relief to see her again after not hearing from her for a month.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” she whispers.

“Helen isn’t.”

She laughs. “I swear, she got even worse after you left. I still think you’re absolutely insane for that, by the way.”

“I know,” you answer. “You’ve told me that a few times.”

“Alright. Help me carry these boxes?”

Over the next hour, the already-somber infirmary grows even quieter, as everyone realizes that everything is ready — the beds made up, bandages prepared, surgical tools cleaned… You’ve done all you can do.

Now you just have to wait.

————————

“I need all hands!” someone calls, and you drop the towels you’ve been folding to turn to the door.

It doesn’t take you more than a second to realize that the person they’re wheeling in is Sawyer. As soon as you catch a glimpse of his rain-soaked hair, you know.

His eyes are closed, his head lolled onto his shoulder — he’s unconscious, completely limp. You finally tear your eyes away from his face, your heart nearly stopping when you realize why he’s here: half of his left leg is just gone.

Someone had tied a tourniquet around his thigh, but it’s not enough to stop the seemingly endless flow of blood. The life is pouring out of him, spilling onto the floor and staining it red, and all you can do is stand there and watch. Your boots are stuck to the stone beneath you, your eyes fixed on the shredded muscle and exposed bone, the things you aren’t supposed to see outside of your textbooks.

You’ve never flinched at any cuts or broken bones, never hesitated to fall into place beside your mother when the neighbors came knocking after farming accidents — none of it ever fazed you.

But it’s never been him.

“Lo,” someone says softly, a hand settling on your arm, “if you can’t…”

“I can,” you interrupt, “and I will.”

——————

“You should get some sleep, P.”

It takes you a second to place the voice as Ridoc’s. You shake your head, not looking up. “I can’t take my eyes off of him.”

“He’s gonna be okay,” he says softly. “That tourniquet you gave him saved his life, y’know. Violet tied it for him, as soon as she could.”

You’re quiet for a moment, unsure how to explain yourself. “I know he should pull through, I just… I have this thing, that I’ve had since I was a child. I’ll have a terrible thought, and I try brushing it off or forgetting about it like a normal person would, but I can’t. It sticks to me, and I have to prevent it from happening by holding my breath or washing my hands or saying a prayer or something. And right now, my mind is telling me if I look away, even for a moment… I know deep down that’s not how it works, but I can’t risk it this time. I won’t. Not when it’s him.”

“I understand,” he says softly. “If I brought you food, would you eat?”

Another shake no. You haven’t had any appetite since this morning, knowing what could happen — what did happen.

“Water, at least?”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Attagirl. I’ll be back.”

A minute later, Ridoc steps into your peripheral vision, careful not to obscure your view of Sawyer as he extends a cup of water toward you.

Slowly, hesitantly, you let go of Sawyer’s hand, setting it down on the bed and waiting for the worst, but he doesn’t stir, doesn’t show any reaction to the movement. You don’t know if that’s good or bad. It’s both, really; a sign that the sedation is working, but also that he isn’t going to wake up any time soon.

He might not ever.

You reach up to take it, inhaling sharply at the sight of your sleeve. The pale blue fabric is spotted with rusty brown patches — Sawyer’s blood. You’d scrubbed it off your hands, but it’s still stuck to you, staining your clothes and lining your fingernails. No amount of cold, soapy water would get it out.

Water. Right.

You take a slow sip, realizing how parched you are. The rest of the cup goes down easily, and your voice doesn’t sound as raspy as you speak again. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Ridoc takes it back from you, settling into a chair in your line of sight — on the opposite side of the bed. “How are you holding up? I know it must have been hard, seeing… that.”

“It usually isn’t,” you answer. “But it usually isn’t him.”

He nods, silent for a moment. “Everyone else is safe. Nothing serious.”

“S’ good,” you say quietly.

Another short silence — just the distant sounds of the infirmary, which has slowed significantly since this morning. Most of the beds are full, if not all of them, but everyone’s been attended to, wounds bandaged and bones set.

“I’ll be fine,” you say again, trying to convince the both of you that you mean it. “Go be with your girl.”

Ridoc looks at you a moment, thinking about it, before he rises from his chair, leaning down to brush his lips against Sawyer’s temple. “See you tomorrow, dude. Love you.”

You smile for the first time in twelve hours.

Sawyer stirs, his hand moving against yours, and your heart jumps. You and Ridoc both hold your breath, waiting.

“Peach?” he murmurs.

“Right here,” you answer, squeezing his hand gently.

“S’good,” he mumbles in reply, his eyes still closed — still working off the double dose of sedatives you’d had to give him to keep the pain at bay. “Was worried about you.”

You manage a laugh. Of course he worried about you, even when you’d been safe indoors for the whole battle. You bring your other hand up to brush the hair from his eyes, stroking the backs of your fingers over his cheek. “I’m okay, sweet boy. Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake.”

He hums a soft acknowledgment, settling deeper into the blankets.

Ridoc gives you a gentle half-hug before he slips away, headed back to the rider’s quadrant.

You take a fresh look at Sawyer, with a healer’s eyes, comforted by what you see: some of the color has returned to his face, and his skin is warm against yours, both good signs that he’s coping with the blood loss. You move your hand down to check his pulse — it’s steady against your fingers, if a little slow. His breaths are even, the bleeding has stopped… he’s out of the woods, sleeping soundly with the help of the heavy dose of pain-reliever.

You turn your gaze toward the window, out into the night sky. “Thank you,” you whisper to the stars. “Thank you.”

You could swear you feel the fleeting touch of a warm hand on your shoulder, but Ridoc has already left. You must be more sleep deprived than you’d thought. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes for a little while, now that Sawyer is conscious again.

You toe off your boots, tucking your legs underneath you and getting as comfortable as you can in the hard wooden chair, resting your head on the edge of the mattress.

You wake to the warm orange light of sunrise, and a gentle hand stroking your hair.

“You should have woken me up earlier,” you chide gently, fighting a yawn, but the sleepiness fades quickly as you realize he’s awake — and he likely has been for a while, judging by the way he’s managed to prop himself upright.

“You needed the sleep,” he says softly, his voice dry and scratchy. “And you looked too peaceful to wake.”

You sit up, ignoring the stiffness in your neck from sleeping in that terrible position, and turn to look at him. “How much do you remember?” you ask in a whisper, taking his hand gently. You look scared, those pretty eyes wet with tears and softened with concern.

“All of it, I think. Are you okay?” he asks softly, squeezing your hand.

You clear your throat, embarrassed that you’re the one crying right now. “Of course I am, why…”

“Is my squad okay?”

You nod — Ridoc had assured you last night that the others were all present and accounted for.

“Then I’m okay.”

You exhale, more tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I had to keep my promise,” he says, managing a smile. “I couldn't leave you behind again.”

You rest your forehead against his, closing your eyes. “I love you, Sy,” you whisper. “To the ends of the earth.”

“And I love you, sweet girl. To the South star and back.”

“To the South star and back,” you agree, your voice cracking with emotion.

He brings a hand up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “We’ll be okay,” he promises. “As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay.”

#sawyer and peach #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #mine #sawyer henrick x reader

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