#and said with the most open awe I’ve ever heard

[zepskies]

Oooh here we go, diving right back into Angst City with some manic Cowboy Sheriff. 😅

A computer mouse flung against the wall and only missed Jenny’s head by an inch as the blonde peeked inside his office. The rest of the station had selected her to talk to the big boss, his outbursts even being heard from miles away. “You okay?” Jenny checked carefully. “I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

*snorts* Oh, he's not handling this well, is he? Can't really blame him, considering a serial killer has the love of his life captured somewhere. 🥲

It wasn’t just about what he had done in there but also about he’d said. No wonder Diane had gotten so easily under his skin. She probably had heard every insecurity he had ever uttered. To you. And to imaginary Randy. How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

Oh Goddd, it really is awful. It's like nowhere in his life is private or safe anymore for him. How could you ever feel comfortable in your own office again?

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

loll I could definitely see that. 😅

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

THANK YOU. At least one of them is taking this situation more seriously than their rivalry. But I honestly understand and sympathize with Randy too -- he's grasping at straws even though he knows he's losing his (former) wife emotionally already, even if he does manage to find the key to saving her before Beau does.

“‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk,

Ok, just shoot this bitch out back and bury her under the sheriff's office. Honestly. 😤 (But the monkeys line did make me snort lol)

“About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

Dammmmn how the hell is she getting this information?? But now I'm looking at Randy sideways even harder. 😒

I was on pins and needles throughout all of the reader's almost escape -- that bear trap actually made me physically grimace/wince!! Omg poor thing. But I loved how remembering Beau's advice helped her get out of the trap -- or at least the bear trap, if not Hal's "Benders"-themed game of hunt and chase. 😰

Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest. They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

Such a great moment between Beau and Randy here, and such great storytelling, especially as they actually start to work together to solve the mystery of what happened to the reader next. 👏🏽💜 I think one of the things I love most about your writing is you have such a great sense of story beats, creating tension and when to relieve it, and how to build character arcs that provide amazing twists, while also making exact sense when it all comes together, piece by piece.

Beau knew the question was mostly rhetorical, but true to himself, he still answered, “It’s actually pretty easy. Just press down on the springs, and the thing opens right up.” A smile formed on his lips as a memory popped back into his mind. “I told Y/N that once when we took a camping trip back in Houston. She probably didn’t remember it. I mean, honestly, I doubt she was even listening. I was kinda ramblin’, you know?”

Oh these two were made for her -- she was actually listening to his ramblings. 🥰💜

“Yeah, well, it’s true,” he said, his gaze cast downward as if he were confessing his sins to a priest. “She wanted kids, and I told her I didn’t. Neither of us was backing down. The night the cartel kidnapped me, we were supposed to have dinner and talk about it when I got home. Part of me already knew where it was headed.”

Remember earlier when I was talking about your amazing twists that make things click into place even more perfectly? Well THIS IS IT. 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 It makes things with her and Beau make even more sense now that we know she was likely leaving Randy anyway, no matter how much she loved him.

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

YES, Beau!! I get it, Randy's been dealt a shitty hand, but Beau's POV in this situation and conversation is so valid. 👌🏽 (Especially since she was likely leaving Randy anyway.)

Regardless, it seems like they had the honest man-to-man talk they needed to have about everything. But Wayne!!! That cliffhanger is...

Polaris – Chapter 12

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, a heavy dose of angst, kidnapping, violence, injuries, serial killers, death, an awful cliffhanger

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! 🥳 We jump straight into 2025 with an angsty banger 👀

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 12: Through

On one of the sunniest mornings Helena had seen in recent days, the peaceful quiet of the early risers in the Sheriff’s Department was disturbed by one restless sheriff.

Beau was taking his office apart – bit by bit, nail by nail, panel by panel, brick by brick.

The search for you had gone on all night and yielded zero results. You were nowhere to be found. For all Beau knew, you could be dead by now and buried in the vast woods of Montana.

A computer mouse flung against the wall and only missed Jenny’s head by an inch as the blonde peeked inside his office. The rest of the station had selected her to talk to the big boss, his outbursts even being heard from miles away.

“You okay?” Jenny checked carefully.

“I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

“Thought you already found that hours ago,” Jenny noted with a raised brow.

“Can’t be too careful…” the sheriff murmured, his focus landing on the pile of pens on his desk. The silver one – had that always been there? He picked it up. “Does this look normal to you?”

Jenny only offered a shrug.

“Never mind,” Beau muttered and reduced the pen down to its individual parts. Nothing. Just a plain, old pen.

“Did you get some sleep?”

“What d’you think?”

At five in the morning, Beau had promised Jenny he’d snooze for half an hour on the couch in his office. He did lie down, stared at the suspended ceiling tiles for about a minute, and then remembered the damn camera.

It wasn’t just about what he had done in there but also about he’d said. No wonder Diane had gotten so easily under his skin. She probably had heard every insecurity he had ever uttered. To you. And to imaginary Randy.

How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

“Well, uh, I just wanted to tell you that Randy went into Interrogation Room 2 with Diane…”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah…” Jenny exhaled a deep sigh and leaned against the door frame. “He said you’d deputized him and authorized it, but I had a feeling that wasn’t true.”

Beau ran a hand across his face, rubbing his beard.

Rule #3: She’s my wife. I get to decide how we proceed.

Rule #4: You’re not the boss of me.

“Well, I did deputize him,” Beau admitted. He had given his former partner a long leash, not expecting he’d bolt through the backyard.

“Beau…” Jenny clearly didn’t approve.

“He left me no choice, alright?!”

Well, no choice his guilt could deal with.

The sheriff then left his destroyed office and thundered into Interrogation Room 2 down the hall. Randy wouldn’t get to do this alone. Beau knew there was an ulterior motive – if only Randy saved you, he could also miraculously save his marriage. Randy was a persistent motherfucker. He wouldn’t give up.

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Beau charged in with steam coming out of his ears. For a moment, his anger was so focused on his friend, he didn’t even notice the rising smile on Diane’s lips.

“Good morning, Sheriff Arlen.” Even if Diane’s voice sounded melodious, to Beau it was still chalk on board. “Remodeling the office, are we?”

“You mind?” Randy prompted stand-offishly, glancing up at the sheriff. “Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Outside. Now,” was all Beau said.

Defiantly and miffed by the authoritative tone, Randy followed him to the hall.

“Play nice, boys!” Diane’s voice echoed through before the door fell into its lock.

“What d’you think you’re doing? You can’t just talk to our prime suspect without my presence!” Beau roared.

Randy rolled his eyes back. “Didn’t know I needed a babysitter…”

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

“Yeah, which is why I’m talking to the only lead we have! That bitch knows where she is,” Randy countered with an equal amount of fury.

“She’s not gonna tell you!”

Randy only shrugged – cocky in nature and completely unlike him. And Beau then realized something that had changed: His friend wouldn’t back down anymore and bend. Those days were over, and it was probably Beau’s own fault.

“We’ll see,” Randy said stubbornly, his hand wandering back to the door handle. “You comin’?”

Beau inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before nodding – and back into the lion’s den they went.

Diane welcomed them with a sneer. “All made up?”

“Tell us where Turner took her,” Randy demanded with a stern expression and firm voice.

If Randy wanted to play bad cop, the role of good cop fell to Beau by default. And although they had never ever played it that way before, Beau figured Randy carried more anger than even him right now. He might as well let him make good use of it.

“Can’t.” Diane twitched her shoulders. “Hal doesn’t tell me.”

“Oh, and we’re just supposed to believe that?” Beau lifted a brow in mock. “C’mon, Diane…”

“It’s true,” she said, smiling. “Call it an insurance policy in case one of you Neanderthals decides to go rogue on me – looking at you specifically, Sheriff Arlen. If you leave your own partner to die in a filthy warehouse, I don’t wanna know what you do to your enemies.” She then looked at Randy, whispering behind her palm, “You know, I think he did it on purpose.”

Beau clicked his tongue and snorted humorlessly. “Alright, Diane, you’ve had your fun. You’ve wreaked havoc… You’ve won, okay? Fair and square. Just give up your partner, tell us where Y/N is, and end this once and for all. Might even get a better deal if you do. Think about it. Murdering an FBI agent doesn’t look good in front of a judge and jury. We have iron-clad proof you killed at least five people in Texas. Capital murder, death penalty… See where I’m going with this?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it, Sheriff. And I’ve told you: I don’t know where she is now,” Diane reiterated with the same infuriating smile. Her gray eyes then wandered to a wall clock behind the men. “At least not yet.”

Randy and Beau both followed her gaze and stared at that same clock. Their eyes widened.

“Then when?” Randy prompted.

“Don’t worry. You’ll see her soon.” Diane smirked. “If she makes it out alive, she can tell you in person she’s choosing the rugged sheriff here over you, Detective Nichols.”

Randy’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching and unclenching under the metal table.

“I gave her a fighting chance.”

“Oh, you mean like the others?” Beau had known from the start that it would be useless talking to her.

“They all could’ve gotten out,” said Diane as if she blamed the victims for not being smarter and more durable. “‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk, “Yeah, I know about the cute little nicknames for your deputies too, Sheriff. I wonder how many bugs you’ve found yet in your office. Sure it can’t be all of them. Maybe I’ve bugged the whole station. Who’s to say? Have you checked your trailer yet? The lovely agent’s motel room? No?”

Beau couldn’t pinpoint the exact feeling that clutched his heart and twisted it like a boa constrictor. Pain, fear, anger, sadness – a deadly cocktail for anyone. Was this throbbing sting in his chest what a heart attack felt like? Only recently, he’d read an article in the paper about a guy his age who just dropped dead. Was this it for him?

Would it mean he'd get to see you again, though?

“Enough of that!”

Randy’s voice rang in his ears, but Beau couldn’t refocus. He needed fresh air to breathe, his lungs dried up and clinging to every molecule like he’d been deprived of oxygen for days. The small room felt suddenly suffocating as the monster across from him sneered joyfully.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re saying all that horseshit ‘cause you wanna hurt him or me,” Randy said, his voice laced with a darkness Beau had never seen before.

“Little bit of both,” Diane teased with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care either way,” Randy huffed, the deep creases in his brow casting threatening shadows on his face. “Do your worst to me or him. Hell, burn us at the stake if it makes you feel any better, sweetheart, but all I wanna know is where that bunker is. Where is she? Your beef’s clearly with us. Men, right? You know she doesn’t deserve this. Just let her go.”

Diane seemed unamused by the suggestion, leaning back in the metal chair. “You’re right. She doesn’t deserve this. I actually like her. She reminds me of me. But you two did this to her. It’s out of my hands at this point. You don’t deserve her, sheriff,” she said and looked at Beau before her cold eyes shifted to Randy. “Neither do you, detective. I know a lot of things – and not just about the sheriff here. I know what you did to her, too.”

Randy forced a tight smile. “You’re bluffing. I didn’t do anything.”

“Am I?” Diane quirked a brow and then sent him an innocent smile. “About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

With a thick swallow and a glare swimming in his hazel eyes, Randy nodded. “We’re done here.”

Diane let out a long, suspenseful sigh, not bothering to engage further. Her icy heart wouldn’t melt. Her eyes flickered around the bleak, depressing room. “I miss windows. Haven’t seen the outside for days.”

“Yeah, and you ain’t gonna,” Beau huffed. He had quietly listened, his heart rate slowing down as his head started spinning with questions. You had never told him anything. He had never asked. It had been an unspoken rule to not talk about your marriage. Beau always figured knowing too much would only make it worse.

“Too bad. I always liked the autumn sunsets. When it gets dark sooner…” Diane then stretched out her neck. “Anyways, nice chatting with you boys, but it’s time for my beauty nap now. Which one of you two cowboys is gonna accompany me back to my cell, hm?”

The men shared a look and then wordlessly rose, leaving the room. In the safety of the hallway, Beau ran a hand over his face and took his first deep breath.

Air. Lungs. Brain. Without toxicity, he could finally think straight again.

“Well, this was pointless and a waste of our time. Happy now?” Beau huffed with his newfound lung capacity.

But Randy’s brow was furrowed. He was thinking. “Actually, yeah… Didn’t you hear what she said?”

“Yeah, bunch of narcissistic bullshit. She’s not gonna tell us where Y/N is,” Beau muttered bitterly. If possible, he wished to never converse with that psychotic witch again. There was only so much he could handle before snapping her neck.

“She said that she doesn’t know where Y/N is now,” Randy pointed out. “Maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe Y/N’s not in the bunker yet. Turner might keep her somewhere else and wait till he can move her.”

“At sundown,” Beau mused, Diane’s words haunting his mind. “He’ll move her when it’s dark.”

“Which means we still have a couple hours to find her,” Randy finished the thought.

“Popcorn!” Beau yelled down the hallway. The sheriff found himself in better spirits. He hadn’t used a silly name for his most loyal deputy in days, although it ached a tiny bit to say it now. “Any properties in Newton’s name?”

“Yes, sir, several,” Mo replied.

“I need a list of all in the area. Get a team together and search ‘em. One by one,” Beau ordered. “Warehouses, cabins… Take it all apart. I don’t care.”

“And also see if any properties are in Hal Turner’s name and add them to the list,” Randy suggested.

Poppernak shot Beau a look, and only when the latter gave his agreement, did the deputy nod. “Yes, Sheriff Arlen.”

The obnoxiously loud sound of birds woke you from a deep slumber. Groggily, you pried your eyes open and found the first few beams of sunlight warming your face. For a peaceful moment of dazed bliss, you had no clue where you were or how you got here.

There was a thumping, searing pain in your skull, hammering away at your sanity like the ticks of a clock. Your neck and shoulders hurt from tension till you realized you were bound to an old wooden chair, a harsh and creaking surface underneath you. Your behind felt both sore and numb.

Glancing around the room, you noticed you were in the living quarters of a small cabin. A fireplace sat to your right. Above it, a cuckoo clock that showed shortly past noon, and you realized that must’ve produced the bird noise that woke you. The stinging sunlight reached your eyes and filled you with hope.

Hal Turner hadn’t locked you into a bunker yet.

“You’re awake. Good.” Turner entered the room with a bottle of water and a sandwich, throwing the items unceremoniously onto your lap. “You need to eat. We’ll leave soon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Where they all went,” he said and came up behind you. Turner wasn’t a man of tall stature. Small, middle-aged, nervous. Non-threatening.

Diane’s little ant.

He cut your ties, and you could tell his hands were shaking. They didn’t treat the others like that. Entertaining a victim had never been his job before.

Sedated, dumped, marooned.

That had been the pattern, and you hoped this little off-course adventure would pay off with your freedom. Your gaze drifted down to a lonely brown belt buckle.

Unarmed.

With free hands and Turner still vulnerably behind you, your arms shot up and wrapped around his neck. Fortunately, he wasn’t as heavy as Beau in training when you jolted him forward, jumped up, and rammed his face straight into your knee.

Unconscious for the moment, Turner tumbled to the ground, and you sprinted through the front door. You hoped it would give you enough time to find an exit.

But all you found was a vast sea of trees – towering pines that reached heavenward with no neighboring houses or roads in sight.

There was a shed to your left. Tools. You needed weapons.

And, most of all, you needed more goddamn time to think your way out of this one.

It wasn’t long till you heard the front door of the cabin slam open, heavy and angry footsteps aimlessly searching before they slowly circled closer to the shed.

Fortunately, your little hide-out had proved itself useful – and fully stocked. Turner had arranged his tools in a neatly organized manner. Nothing seemed to be out of place, screwdrivers hanging on the wall from small to big, pliers, drills, hacksaws… Your weapons of choice, however, fell on a hammer and the heaviest, biggest wrench.

Lurking behind the small barn door, you lay in wait till the old door creaked open and Hal Turner walked through. He only blinked at you wide-eyed before your first hit with the wrench landed across his right cheek. It was hard enough for blood to spew out of his mouth, and as he tumbled forward, you delivered your second blow – the hammer, this time, slamming against the back of his head.

Dropping the tools, you decided to take your chances and make a run through the woods for it. You still had a few fleeting hours till dark. If you just kept going, maybe you’d make it to a road or a town somewhere before you froze to death.

What a great outlook…

However, you didn’t even get farther than a few yards from the house before a sharp pain seared from your ankle throughout your entire body. Falling harshly and bracing yourself on the cold, wet leaves, you screamed out and looked down at the culprit – a bear trap.

Well, points for Hufflepuff!

Apparently, you had underestimated Turner. Ahead of you, you also spied some tripwire. Great. This place was a giant death trap – and you had already hated the woods before all of this.

Getting back onto your feet was not only hindered by the giant claws in your flesh but also the iron chain attached to the trap that tethered you to the ground. So, with your freezing hands, you dug out the metal stake that served as your anchor.

Then, the fucking bear trap – you knew this one would hurt like a son of a bitch. Carefully, you inspected the oozing wound, the razor sharp edges deeply clutching your skin at your lower calf and ankle. For a moment, you even swore you could feel the tips of their pointed teeth drilling into your bone. You tried to pry them apart with your hands but gave up on that idea rather quickly once the jaws cut your fingers.

Glancing at the shed, you saw the door was still ajar. It was quiet in there. Either Hal Turner was gone, solely unconscious, or currently bleeding to death. The shed was your Schrödinger’s cat. As long as you didn’t know which one it was, you still had time.

Taking several deep breaths, you closed your eyes and remembered the trip you took with Beau when you were back in Houston. The two of you drove camping in Piney Woods. For a few days, you were gone and unknown to everyone around you. You could just be you and him. No one had to hide anything. No one had to feel guilty. In those short days, you realized you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Did you know bear traps are actually pretty easy to get out of?” Beau babbles a random fact in his usual manner when neither of you has said anything in a minute. He glances at you, a happy smile on his face as he intertwines his fingers with yours during a stroll through the green and lush forest.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, all you gotta do is not panic, get up on your feet, and press your weight down on the springs at the bottom. Just pops open and you can pull your leg out,” he explains with a popping sound, turning the little lesson into a show-and-tell.

“Don’t panic…” you mumbled to yourself and sat up. “Get up…” With a strained groan and your palms supportively on the ground, you heaved yourself to your feet. You winced as you put pressure on your injured leg and, therefore, tried to shift your weight to your good one. The main problem was the next step: “Press down.”

Mentally, you braced yourself before you slowly started to put pressure on the leg again. The jaws moved and wiggled in your flesh, but the pain was too much too bear. You bit down on your tongue as tears strangled your eyes.

Alright, next try.

If slow was too painful, then maybe the bandaid method was the way to go. Quick and painless, as they say. You inhaled and exhaled through your nose as you raised your foot a few inches above ground, making sure the springs would hit the uneven surface properly. Then, you kicked down.

The trap sprung open, you pulled your foot out, and released a primal scream that echoed through the quiet woods, surely disturbing whatever lived there.

And then, suddenly, Hal Turner stood in front of you with a shovel.

Diane’s listed properties came up empty. There was still no sign of you. Turner, on the other hand, had only booked a motel room in his name but hadn’t been seen there in weeks. So, Beau figured he had to be staying somewhere if he wasn’t sleeping in his room.

At four o’clock, the sheriff was close to a breakdown when all leads petered out and the daylight was almost gone. But then Cassie and Denise stormed the station, both out of breath, and brought forth a document that showed a property north of Helena in the name of a Diane Turner. It was a remote cabin in the middle of the woods, which also happened to be close to the location where the ambulance had picked up Randy.

Ding, ding, ding!

Beau gathered the whole cavalry and raced there as fast as he could. By the time he was ten minutes out, the sky had grown dark, the woods pitch-black around him. Switching on the Jeep’s headlights only added to the uneasiness in his stomach. His passenger was quiet next to him, but Beau could tell how worried Randy was by the way his left leg anxiously drummed against the floor mat.

Both of them thought it was too late to save you.

An access road, all dirt, led up behind the cabin, only making it a short hike. Turner’s vehicle had been parked at the fork where it reached pavement. They seemed to be on the right track. After all, if Turner was here, then hopefully so were you.

Beau and Randy were the first to arrive, the cabin inside dark without a single light on, not even a candle burning in the smudged windows. Carefully, the men stepped on the porch, the property around them quiet and undisturbed, but the front door was an inch ajar. Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest.

They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

The floorboards creaked under Beau’s boots as he treaded down the hallway. The cabin was small, only consisting of one bedroom, a living area, a kitchen and bath. While the men checked each room, Beau already knew you weren’t here anymore – if you’d ever been here to begin with. Maybe Diane had sent them on a wild goose-chase, another sick game created by the mind of psychopath, while you had been locked in a bunker all along, waiting for him to find you.

How much air did you still have left? Would he get to you in time?

“Beau!”

His partner’s voice drew him from the bedroom to the living space, his mind still rattling with the unspoken fear of losing you. His green eyes then focused on the beam of Randy’s flashlight as it shone on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, a set of cut plastic ties on the floor next to it. There was also an uneaten sandwich and an unopened bottle of water scattered on the ground.

And then, there were the trails, the little drops, and the sheer pools of blood everywhere that made his gut churn. Was it all yours?

“We need to get forensics here,” Beau said with a thick swallow, already pulling out his phone to call Jenny.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Randy said with a lump in his throat, his eyes transfixed on the little red pond by the tips of his feet. And although it was dark, Beau could see the color drain from his partner’s face.

“I know.” Beau bobbed his head quietly, gently clasping his friend’s shoulder as he held his phone to his ear.

The sheriff then informed Jenny of their findings, telling her to hurry any lab results along. The sooner they knew whose blood it was, the better. As he hung up, he noticed Randy following a trail of blood to the door, leading further outside. He shone his flashlight through the dense foliage before it landed on a little working shed to the right.

As Randy creaked the door of the shed open, with Beau behind him, both thought there was a high probability they’d stumble upon a body in there – if not two.

Instead, the shed was disappointingly empty.

Beau whistled lowly as the light hit the neatly arranged wall of tools. “Well, that’s some freak level organization.”

But Randy’s brow furrowed as his light landed on the ground behind the door. “There’s a hammer and wrench on the ground.” He knelt down to inspect it closer. “Got blood on it. Lot of it.”

Beau chuckled lightly and ran a palm over his face to keep the stinging tears of hope inside, which only confused Randy.

“What’s so funny? Y/N might be dead,” Randy said sourly.

“That’s not Turner’s doing,” Beau argued and gestured at the tools on the ground, his heart flooding with a tiny bit of relief. “Look at the wall. Why would he kill her with tools? It’s way too bloody. Guy like this can’t handle the mess. He had a perfectly fine gun. Would’ve been way cleaner if he wanted to.”

“So, you think this was Y/N?” Randy thought for a moment before nodding. “The ties inside were cut. The food and water on the floor… Maybe he cut her loose and she took advantage of it? I mean, it does sound like her.”

“Yeah…” Beau’s eyes then musingly drifted back to the wall. “Is there a screwdriver on the ground somewhere? There’s one missing here.”

“Nope, nothing on the ground,” Randy replied once his flashlight search was complete. “You think she took it with her?”

“Let’s hope so…”

“But if Y/N managed to overpower Turner, why isn’t she here? And where’s Turner? And if it happened out here, why is there so much blood inside?”

Beau licked his chapped lips, his brow returning to their initially creased position. “Maybe she didn’t take him out for good.”

“You thinkin’ she knocked him out and escaped?”

“Yeah, and then Turner woke up, went back into the house before taking off after her through those woods,” Beau shared his theory. It would explain the vast amounts of blood inside.

“So, your theory is she’s lost and being hunted?” Randy cocked a brow.

Beau only offered him a shrug. “Best possible scenario.”

“Great.” Randy scoffed. “What’s the worst possible scenario then?”

Beau’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I think we both know.” Licking his lips, he patted Randy’s shoulder. “But let’s not think about the worst right now. I’ll get a team going to search these woods. We’ll find her. You’re not losing her again, alright?”

Randy could only nod and hope, but a little tug on his heart told him something different as he glanced at his former friend.

“It’s been three hours,” Randy huffed frustratedly as they passed the same street sign to Helena down the mountain once more, driving up and down the roads around the cabin in an endless loop, hoping and praying a miracle would happen. “Don’t you think we would’ve found her by now? If she’s hurt and inside those woods, we should be in there looking for her.”

Beau passed another sigh between his lips. There had been three hours of that, too. Patience was a not only an eight-letter word but a bitch as well.

“Neither of us is any help there. We don’t know those woods. You don’t even a phone, Randy,” Beau said with a bit more firmness in his voice, causing his partner’s frown to deepen. Saved by the bell, Beau’s phone chimed in his pocket with Jenny’s angelic name popping up on the screen. He pulled over on the side of the road before picking up.

“What you got? Uh-huh… You sure? What did they say about the cabin? Okay… Both of ‘em? How far? Which direction? Alright… We’re close. Driving back up there now.”

Randy held his breath till Beau hung up, trying to guess the content of the phone call by the various facial expressions of the sheriff. Then, he asked, “Good news or bad news?”

“Hard to say,” Beau replied, his eyes fixed on his hands gripping the steering wheel. He swallowed the lump in his throat, gave himself an encouraging nod, and started the engine, trying to sink every bad theory that surfaced in his mind. “Forensics came back. Our theory was partially correct. The blood inside the cabin was mostly Turner’s.”

Randy raised a brow, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. “Mostly?”

“Evidence points to her not escaping. Turner might have gotten to her before she could even leave the property. They found a bear trap with her blood on it,” Beau explained slowly, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Dogs picked up a trail, leading into the woods. Forensics confirmed both of their blood on that trail.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. He could’ve followed her. She still could’ve escaped,” Randy replied and knew full well it was only sugarcoating the truth swimming in the lower pits of his belly.

“Could’ve…” Beau nodded and swallowed heavily. “But then again, if she did manage to escape, how did her blood end up inside the cabin?”

Defeated, Randy licked his lips, expelling a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, guess my hopes are little too high. I mean, how the hell would you get out of a bear trap?”

Beau knew the question was mostly rhetorical, but true to himself, he still answered, “It’s actually pretty easy. Just press down on the springs, and the thing opens right up.” A smile formed on his lips as a memory popped back into his mind. “I told Y/N that once when we took a camping trip back in Houston. She probably didn’t remember it. I mean, honestly, I doubt she was even listening. I was kinda ramblin’, you know?”

“Uh-huh. I remember. I’ve spent a lot of time with you…” Randy smacked his lips, fingers tapping his thigh. “You guys went on a trip together?”

Beau’s mouth opened on reflex, but he stopped himself from replying, shooting a scrutinizing look at his partner. “Yeah, uh, just the one, really. Shoulda been more…”

Regrets seeped to the surface. If Beau had known he had only a finite amount of time with you, he would’ve enjoyed and appreciated every last second of it. He should’ve spent less time in his head. He should’ve taken you out on more dates. He should’ve been the best he could be. Instead, he wasted so much time and couldn’t even remember why in retrospect.

“What makes you say that?” Randy’s question rang both with curiosity and pain. His brown eyes stared stubbornly ahead and focused on the dark road.

Beau blew a long sigh. “Well, I wasn’t always the best–,” he hesitated a moment before saying the word, “–boyfriend, I guess.”

If Randy was upset by the term, he didn’t let it show. Maybe he was sticking to Rule #2. He quirked a brow and glanced at Beau in the driver’s seat. “So, on top of stealing my wife, you’re telling me you didn’t even treat her right?”

“Guess so,” Beau admitted quietly, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue and ignoring the subtle jab. “And I didn’t treat her badly, by the way. Just could’ve tried harder. Felt guilty because she was your-, well, you know… And the divorce got kinda messy, too. I just wanted to stay clear of complications.”

Exasperated, Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “This is not really making me want to give you my blessing…”

Beau huffed a chuckle. “Didn’t know that was an option.”

“Well, it’s not. You don’t deserve her.” Randy clicked his tongue, pensively bobbing his head. He then finally admitted, the words sounding almost sour, “Neither do I. You might be as big of an idiot as me.”

Beau’s eyes widened in surprise, his focus briefly swaying from the road. “What d’you mean? You guys were perfect together. Is this about what Newton said?”

Randy’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “Y/N never told you?”

“Told me what?”

Randy chewed on his lower lip before pushing out the words that had plagued him for three years. “She wanted to leave me.”

Beau shook his head. “Nah, I don’t buy it. She loved you. You should’ve seen her after she thought you’d died.”

Randy inhaled sharply, his head spinning with regret and heart filling with hope. For the past years, he had wondered if he’d ever get another chance to fix things with you.

“Yeah, well, it’s true,” he said, his gaze cast downward as if he were confessing his sins to a priest. “She wanted kids, and I told her I didn’t. Neither of us was backing down. The night the cartel kidnapped me, we were supposed to have dinner and talk about it when I got home. Part of me already knew where it was headed.”

Beau listened and nodded. He remembered the set dinner table, the lovingly prepared food, the candles – it didn’t seem like something one would do if they planned on leaving.

“No, I don’t think she would’ve left you,” Beau noted, although his heart stung when he said it out loud.

“I overheard her asking Carla for a divorce lawyer. Pretty sure she was,” Randy retorted. “Seems silly now. She was already out of my league. I should’ve just given her what she wanted. I don’t even know why I didn’t. I should’ve just shut up and been grateful.”

“That’s what I would’ve told you to do,” Beau muttered, his brain trying to keep track and process everything. Why had you never told him any of this? And more importantly: “Why have you never told me?”

“Guess I was embarrassed.” Randy shrugged. “And I already knew what you would’ve said.”

Secretly amused, Beau cocked a brow. “What? That you’re an idiot?”

“Exactly.”

“And Carla knew?”

“I guess.” Randy gave another shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, they talked all the time. Well, mostly it was Carla complaining about you, but still…”

Beau’s brow furrowed into deep lines. He should’ve been more surprised than he was. The only thing that really baffled him was the fact you had still agreed to date him after hearing all of that. What else didn’t he know?

“I thought they met once a week for book club?”

Randy shot him a pitying look. “Dude, there was no book club. Only three bottles of wine.” He then exhaled a long sigh, stretching back into his seat. “Maybe it’s good she didn’t pick anyone. She deserves someone who can give her what she wants.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” A little offended, Beau raised his brow. “You know, when she came back a few weeks ago, I swore I’d make things right. I wouldn’t let her go this time.”

But Beau broke that promise. He pushed you away to stay clear of complications. His heart twinged.

“And you think she wanted to live in a trailer in the woods of Montana?”

“Doesn’t matter. I would’ve given her anything she wanted. No questions asked,” Beau stated simply. “I was happy when I was with her. Didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing.”

“So, what? You planned on marrying her? Kids?”

Beau twitched his shoulders, his eyes not drifting from the street. If he glanced at Randy only for a beat, he couldn’t ignore his friend’s reactions any longer and still remain honest. “We never talked about it, but... If that’s what she wants, then yeah. Don’t even have to think about it. You really were an idiot, you know?”

“I know that. Thank you,” Randy huffed sarcastically and rolled his eyes. “Still not getting my blessing, though.”

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

“You’re one to talk.” Randy scoffed mockingly. “I met your friend Denise at the station. We had a long chat. She almost talks as much as you. Sounded like you tried to have a say in who Carla should marry. Little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“That’s different,” Beau retorted defensively. “We have a kid together. Whoever Carla’s seeing is also gonna be in Emily’s life.”

“So, you don’t even care a little about Carla’s well-being? ‘Cause Denise said you killed her new husband,” Randy countered cleverly.

“Of course I care,” Beau admitted frustratedly. What did Randy want to hear? That he was right about everything? Well, except one thing: “And I didn’t kill Avery, by the way. Might have been slightly responsible for his death, sure, but I didn’t kill the idiot.”

“Seems to be a pattern for you. Maybe Diane was right,” Randy muttered wryly.

Beau licked his lips and sighed. “Listen, I know that devil woman is good at getting into someone’s head, but you gotta believe me, man. I did not leave you to die. If I had known–”

“Whoa, I know,” Randy interrupted him with an amused chuckle and two placating hands. “I was just joking. I knew you didn’t hand me over to the cartel on purpose in some evil ploy to get with my wife. That would be insane.”

Beau gave a nod, accepting his answer with relief. “Well, good.”

“Look, I’m not delusional, contrary to what everyone’s thinking. I know things happened while I was away,” Randy admitted. “I figured she had moved on. For three years, I actually hoped she did. I wanted her to be happy. Just didn’t think it be you, I guess. Probably shouldn’t have been surprised, though. I kinda knew you always liked her. Just didn’t think any more of it, you know?”

“And there wasn’t more, alright? I promise,” Beau assured him, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment. He never thought Randy would’ve suspected anything – not that there really ever was anything. But had his tiny crush really been that obvious? “One of those things, you know? Just ‘cause I find Michelle Rodriguez attractive doesn’t mean I seriously expect to date her. I didn’t know it was more than that till I spent some time with her.”

“Good to know,” was all Randy said, crossing his arms with an uncomfortable clear of his throat. “Definitely surprised Y/N likes you, though. She always had a pretty low opinion of you. Said you were doing shitty police work and I should be more careful. Guess she was right..." Beau shot him a darkened look but refrained from taking the bait. Randy pursed his lips. "Look, I know I’m a pain in your ass right now. You’d probably love to get rid of me.”

“Well, hey, that’s not–”

“What, true?” Knowingly, Randy lifted a brow. “I would if I were you.”

Beau only nodded, not admitting out loud the thought had certainly crossed his mind. “So, what are you thinking now?”

“Still want her to be happy,” Randy said quietly.

All of a sudden, Beau then slammed on the brakes, both men jolting forward into their seatbelts. A loud thud echoed through the car as something heavy hit the Jeep’s hood. For a moment, the sheriff thought he’d run into a deer before blinking his eyes at the bloodied and muddied image of Hal Turner.

“What the hell?!”

Turner was in rough shape, pantingly and deliriously stumbling around the car and onto the road, shielding his eyes from the blinding headlights with his palm. Blood dripped from various places from his head and body before Beau’s eyes narrowed on the metal tool stuck inside his neck.

“Guess we found our missing screwdriver,” Randy noted as the two men jumped out of the car, guns drawn.

“Where is she, Turner?” Beau prompted sternly, his finger itching to pull the trigger for everything he’d done to you. But knowing where you were was more important than a vendetta. Turner could only speak while he was alive.

And the man seemed to know it, too. Before the sheriff could call for back-up and an ambulance, Turner sneered and raised a hand, gripping the screwdriver tightly.

“No, don’t!”

Beau’s plea came too late. Hal Turner pulled the makeshift weapon out of his throat and collapsed to the ground, bleeding out within seconds.

Randy’s fingers landed on the man’s pulse point. He glanced up at his partner with a shake of his head. “He’s gone.”

Throwing his gun angrily into the rustling brushes, Beau gripped his temples and screamed into the void of the dark woods. Desperation clawed on his mind and heart. The fear of losing you for good took him prisoner. With labored breaths, he squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and rubbed his tired eyes. Turner had been his last lead. He knew more wouldn’t be coming.

What now?

A sanctimonious beep of his phone drew his attention. A small part of him prayed it was Jenny, informing him you’d emerged a few miles up the road – bloody like Turner, but otherwise fine. Alive.

But his green eyes only found an email and darkened at the sender’s name. “Diane just sent me a link.”

Randy, caught in his own spiral, suddenly glanced up. “To what?”

“Livestream.”

Chapter 13: Sure And Certain

Another cliffhanger, and it looks like Diane's still having the last laugh 🙈

What did you think of this part? Were you surprised by Randy's revelation? He might've changed his mind on a few things 😉

See ya next week for the freaking finale 🤍

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[luveline]

i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's just miserable that no one remembered his birthday at work but when he gets home his roommate just welcomes him with the most thoughtful gift and a warm hug PLEASE

thank you for requesting! <3 fem!reader

The lights are off. The air conditioning blows a shade too cold. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and acknowledges that, despite his awful, aching day, it’s nice to be home. 

The living room is clean where it hadn’t been this morning when he left. If he had to clean it by himself, he’d die. It must’ve taken a good hour or longer, even the floor shines sparkling clean. 

“Hey?” he asks into the open air, wondering where you are. 

“Spencer!” you yelp from the kitchen, “Hey, what took you so long? It’s almost seven!” 

He sighs to himself with a great dash of self-pity. “I know. Had to stay and finish something. You cleaned?” 

“I had to! Quick, come in here, I need your help with something.” 

He doesn’t want to help, he wants to lay down in bed. Spencer wonders how a normal person, a normal boy, would feel after a day like today. He wonders if Morgan would go home and lay in bed and cry. He wonders if it could ever be possible for everyone to forget Morgan’s birthday. 

Spencer hangs his jacket on the rack and puts his bag by the shoes. He’s tempted to go to bed and pretend he hasn’t heard you, but he supposes he shouldn’t. He’d sort of been hoping you’d text him happy birthday, and but that never happened. He doesn’t think anybody in the world besides his mom knows what day it is today, and Spencer had to remind her, so. 

“Spence,” you say, your smile of a calibre he’s never witnessed, standing in front of the kitchen island with your hands behind your back, “I hope you know I’ve been waiting two whole hours for you to get back. Actually, I’ve been waiting all day, but you can’t be blamed for working. Okay. Are you ready?” 

“Am I ready? What did you want help with?” 

You step to the side, grinning, the sleeves of your nice blouse like big, soft petals around your wrists and against your thighs. “Tada!” you say, guiding his attention to the silver platter on the countertop, a chocolate cake at centre stage and stuck with candles, flames aglow. “I rushed to light them when I heard the door,” you tell him, and he can hear your breathlessness now, your excitement for him evident. “A lot of candles, you’re getting old! Too old for chocolate sprinkle. I should’ve got you something sophisticated.” 

“You got me a cake?” 

“It’s your birthday,” you say happily. “Happy birthday, Spencer. I got you some presents, too, but the cake is the best, it’s from the Leaven. How fancy is that?” 

“Will you sing?” he asks. 

He doesn’t know why he asks. He’s mostly kidding, but you smile shyly and beckon him toward you. “I’ll sing. Come stand over here.” 

You sing him happy birthday, and he blows out his candles, only ten candles altogether but enough to feel like a kid as the heat kisses his chin. 

“Okay, and I got you this,” you say, finally pulling both hands from behind your back, seemingly eager to move the focus from your performance.

It’s a bundle about as thick as an average novel. He knows it’ll be books before he opens it, because you know him, and it’s in your nature to give him your everything. 

He doesn’t look at them. He takes the package blindly and shoves it onto the counter, wrapping you in a hug so hard it makes your back click. “I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t let go. You don’t make him. “Sorry, I just– I–” You’re the only one who remembered. “Thank you for the cake.” 

You hug him not quite as hard, but tight. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you, you’re my best friend ever, you can pop me like a roll of dough any day of the week.” You might be exaggerating. Spencer doesn’t know. “But especially today, you know. You can have anything you want.” 

Spencer should let go. Anything you want, you’d said. He hugs you until he’s sure you’re sick of him, your thumb pressing little circles into his shoulder, his arms tucked up under your armpits and around your back. “Thanks,” you murmur.

“What?” he asks. “For what?” 

“For such a good hug. And being a great roommate. And for not complaining about the candles.” 

“The candles are perfect.” 

You lean back in his arms. “Thank you. Now what do you want first, cake or dinner?” 

Spencer really wants another hug. “Um. Cake?” 

“Good choice, handsome.”

His cheeks are pink by the time he gets a slice, but it’s the best birthday cake he’s ever had.

[yandere-daydreams]

Screening: Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978).

Pairing: Yandere!Carlisle Cullen x Reader (Twilight).

Word Count: 2.1k.

TW: Wildly Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Medical Malpractice, Blood, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Social Isolation, Misuse of Prescription Drugs, and Generalized Twilight. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

It might’ve just been the isolation getting to you, but you were starting to think that your doctor wasn’t completely human.

Not that you’d ever say so out loud. At best, it was awful thing to think about a man who’d only ever been kind to you and, at worst, it proved yet another symptom to your ever-developing, ever-worsening illness had cropped up and would need further treatment to correct. You knew better than to say things that would make you seem more sick than you already were, but it was hard to stop yourself from lingering on the idea – especially considering you only had books, sleep, and his company to pass the endless time. Admittedly, it’d been a while since you’d seen another person, but you could’ve sworn he was paler than he should’ve been, to the point of bloodlessness. He never ate or drank around you, but sometimes when he spoke, the light would catch on his teeth in a way that made them look too sharp, too prominent. You might’ve been dreaming, but once, after you took your medicine but just before you fell asleep, you swore you saw him taking the cap off of the blood sample he’d taken a few minutes prior, like he planned to do something aside from—

You heard a door open and instantly, your paranoia was dismissed in favor of more interesting stimuli. In this case, that came in the form of your doctor, Carlisle Cullen, stepping into your bedroom, an inhumanly perfect smile already painted across his inhumanly perfect lips.

…maybe you should tell somebody about your little conspiracy. If only to be absolutely sure that you were really losing your mind.

“Good morning,” he said, and it occurred to you that you hadn’t thought to check the time, yet. Your life existed in three states: alone, asleep, and with Carlisle. Only that last one really mattered – the other two could easily be lumped into the same category helpfully labeled ‘waiting for Carlisle’s next visit’. “Have you been keeping yourself busy?”

“I’ve only been awake for a couple hours,” you explained, shrugging as he took his usual seat in the chair left next to your bed. He was always polite enough to ask about the boring details of your day, and you were always embarrassed enough to skirt around just how little you had the energy for. Most of the time, it was all you could do to pull yourself out of bed and yourself to eat before retreating back into your little safe haven. On a good day, you’d be able to go for a walk, maybe respond to a few of the calls you were constantly missing, but most days weren’t very good. “Reading, mostly. Thanks again for the recommendation.”

The book he’d lent you – a dry historical drama with characters as bland as water and a plot as boring as sin – sat open on your lap, but you’d only gotten through half a chapter before giving up. It was hard to believe Carlisle was only a few years older than you, sometimes. You couldn’t imagine how someone who seemed so young could have such awful taste.

Still, he looked pleased, his pleasantly aloof expression taking on a defined note of satisfaction. “It’s important to keep your mind occupied while your body’s recovering. You wouldn’t want to waste all of my hard work by letting yourself die of boredom, now, would you?”

“No, doctor.” It was stupid to try, but he’d set himself up for it. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself, your heart beating just a little faster as you grasped blindly for the impossible. “You know, there’s this friend of mine who keeps asking when she’ll be able to visit, and I thought it might help pass the time if—”  

“You’ll have to find a way to let her down.” Carlisle’s voice was smooth, calm. You did your best not to sulk, but still, he let out a labored sigh, only a touch too professional to roll his eyes. “It’s for the best. It’s good that you stay active, but you know what’ll happen if you overexert yourself, don’t you?”

Vaguely. It was hard to remember the details of your condition, and you weren’t in the mood for another lecture. “I do, doctor.”

“And you’re going to behave your check-up, aren’t you?”

“I am, doctor.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite patient.” Your compliance was rewarded with a beaming smile, an appeased nod as he pulled his old-fashioned leather doctor’s bag into his lap. “We better make good on that promise before you change your mind, then.”

You didn’t protest. Honestly, you didn’t say much of anything. You never talked during your exam, preferring to let Carlisle go through the necessary motions with as little interference as possible. Instead, he filled the silence with mindless chatter about his children and how they were doing at the local public school, the hospital’s ongoings since you were unofficially discharged, and your favorite – Forks’ particularly colorful smalltown gossip, from the sheriff’s wayward daughter moving back into town to the spike in bear sightings on the local hiking paths. “It’ll be a busy week,” he mentioned, as he finished taking your blood pressure. “You might have some unexpected company, after all.”

At that, you perked up. You met nearly all of Carlisle’s assistants (medical students, you guessed, judging by their ages) by now, and even if you didn’t care for all of them, it was still nice to see someone other than him. Your least favorites were the dark haired twins – the wiry boy who always seemed to be biting back a smirk and the pixie-like girl who always acted like she knew something you didn’t – and you were particularly fond of the blonde girl… Rosemary, or maybe Rosaline. She was nice, compassionate, kind enough to keep you company even when Carlisle wasn’t in the room. More importantly, she brought interesting books – romance and horror, novels like Dracula and Carmilla and Interview with a Vampire, always handing over with a sweet smile and a hushed reminder not to let Carlisle know she was breaking his rules. Looking back on it, you probably shouldn’t have accepted anything she tried to give you. You would’ve hated for her to get in trouble just because she was trying to be nice.

Rather than voicing your overwhelming bias, you watched intently as he slipped the loose cuff off of your arm, tucking it back into his bag and removing something else, something long and silver and sharp. Immediately, your gaze shot back to your lap, your throat going dry in an instant. The next time you managed to spit something out, it was nearly too quiet to be audible. “…is there any chance we could, uh, I don’t know,” You paused, shrunk into yourself. “…skip the phlebotomy, this time?”

Carlisle’s answer was as swift as it was ruthless. An airy laugh, a jagged twist to this smile as he took up the needle properly and turned it over in his hand, looking for defects. It was already attached the glass syringe and, even worse, an empty vial; just a touch bigger than you remembered it being, the day before. “And take that kind of risk? How little do you think of me, (Y/n)?”

“It’s not you, it’s just—I already feel a little faint, and you take one every day, and—” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply. “I just don’t know if it’s really necessary. Considering how careful you are and everything.”

“You’re right, I am careful. Which is exactly why I have to do this each and every time I come to see you.” He sighed, shook his head – suddenly more of a patronizing, paternal figure than any kind of medical professional, let alone peer. “You understand, don’t you? Without regular testing, your condition may worsen, and if you get any sicker than you are now…” You stiffened as he trailed off, bracing yourself. You knew what came next, what always came next.

“You’ll have to go back to the hospital, angel.”

It was strange, how a voice as smooth and as beautiful as his could be so difficult to listen to.

You didn’t like Carlisle. You hated his condescending smile, his repetitive rambling, his terrible taste in books and his creepy little students. You hated how little he let you do, how he talked about your illness – always skirting around the details, never giving you enough information to know whether you were on the verge of dying or a few days away from making a full recovery. No, when you were honest with yourself, you didn’t like him. Hated him, even.

But you couldn’t go back to the hospital, with its blank white walls and sobbing patients and strange, mind-altering drugs that put your sleep and made you feel like someone was biting into your throat. It’d been a miracle when Carlisle first told you about his domestic services, when he offered to have you discharged in exchange for only the promise that you wouldn’t seek care that didn’t come from him. Arrangements were made, your rent and bills taken over by some nameless, faceless local charity, and for the first time in months, you got to go home. You could live with Carlisle and his once weekly, now daily check-ups. You could live with the fact that you didn’t remember the last time you’d gotten to make a decision for yourself.

And, if you had to, you could live with paying for your freedom in blood, too. As long as it meant you didn’t have to go back to that terrible place.

Once again, you didn’t say anything, but you didn’t resist as he sighed and ran a sterilizing pad over your forearm, the antibiotic strong enough to burn. You clenched your eyes shut, but that did nothing to block out the feeling of a thin elastic band being wrapped around the crook of your elbow, of his needle pushing through your skin and burrowing into the vein underneath it. There was a second of pressure, of knotted soreness, and then, the syringe was gone and you were left feeling just a little colder, just a little more empty than you had before.

Even after opening your eyes, you kept them trained on your lap. You easily could’ve spent the rest of his visit in silence, but metal clinked against glass as he rushed to cap his vial and suddenly, you needed to hear the sound of your own voice. “I think I might be getting paranoid,” you managed, with a breath of a laugh. “For a few minutes this morning, I was able to convince myself that you were… I don’t know, an alien studying humanity, or something.”

“If I was, I’m sure that I would still pick you as the best possible specimen for my examination.” It was hollow comfort, but you smiled anyway, nodding along. Your medication came next, in the form of a small, chalky white pill that you still struggled to swallow under Carlisle’s vigilant gaze. You managed to choke it down, though, and as always, the effects were instant; a sudden clearness, blankness, followed shortly by an exhaustion so thick and so heavy, you couldn’t remember what it’d ever felt like not to be tired. You tried to hold yourself up, but faltered – buckling under your own weight. Carlisle chuckled as he caught you, helping you lay down with a soft squeeze to your shoulder, a feather-light kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, angel. It’s good for you.” And then, his grin still pressing into your scalp. “And try not to dream about vampires, this time.”

So he did know about Rosalie’s books. Pouting, you shrunk into yourself, letting him drag the comforter over your abruptly immobile body as your eyes eased shut, as he pulled away – a vial of your blood still warm in his hand. It would’ve been impossible to stop yourself from falling asleep, but you managed to stave off unconscious long enough to watch him remove the vial’s carefully applied seal, to unscrew the air-tight cap with the kind of tenderness you’d only seen him use while taking your temperature or petting his fingers through your hair after he thought you were already too far gone to remember. He did a lot of things when he thought you weren’t looking, didn’t he? You’d never really noticed that, before.

Through your eyelashes, you watched him bring the vial to his lips before everything went dark.

[mullet-mother]

Eaten, Stuffed, or Mounted?

My first oneshot - ever

TW: Smut below the cut, MINORS DNI

I have a fun tidbit of information for you.

Did you know that when you crash your car the radio doesn’t stop playing?I was made aware of that lovely fun fact after swerving to avoid that damn deer. 

I finally got my ass out of the house for the first time in months after persistent pestering and coaching from my friends to go to their New Years party. I wouldn’t say I was excited, but I was trying to be—hence the obnoxiously loud music blasting through my car’s speakers. I shouldn’t have taken that curve so fast—the visibility was absolute garbage with the snow. The animal jumped out so quickly; I reacted instinctively, and the black ice spun my wheels when I tried to avoid flattening the buck, sending me careening into the trees on the embankment. As I said before, the radio doesn’t stop playing when you crash. I hadn’t considered that my death would consist of me bleeding to death by myself on the side of the road with the speakers blaring ‘Party Rock Anthem’.

What a ridiculous celestial discharge.

When I opened my eyes, I was most certainly not in Kansas anymore. My eyes and nose were not prepared for the onslaught of stimulus they received. It was so, so red. The smell of rust and sulfur stung my nose and eyes. The sounds of screaming also did not help the overwhelming feeling of dread I started to experience. 

While I wasn’t particularly shocked that I ended up in hell, this was also not what I had expected. So many religions have their own versions, most commonly the lake of fire and brimstone. I was not expecting the burning city, dead bodies littering the streets, porn on every billboard, and the twisted and exotic forms of the…residents. It felt like I had entered the most twisted version of ‘Grand Theft Auto’ that someone could have conceived. 

It took only seconds for me to snap out of my shock, when I heard a shout in my direction. I scrambled to my feet and cursed, realizing I was in the insufferable heels and dress I decided to wear for the party. This also made me acutely aware of the difference in my body, but at the time I didn’t have the mental capacity to absorb what had changed, but the heels I wore made the hooves I now had nye-impossible to stand.   A large bear of a man—quite literally—was approaching me with a grin that made my hair stand on end. 

“Going somewhere all dressed up like that by yourself? Or are you just out to get fucked and your cute little tail pulled?” His disgusting maw was drooling and it had nearly made me gag.

It was made apparent that even in death I had no sense of self preservation. 

“Go fuck yourself, you rip-off build-a-bear fuck stain!”

It had slipped out of my mouth faster than I could react, and our big furry friend was not pleased. 

The growls that left his chest and the elongating teeth were not comforting. “You. Fucking. Cunt. I wanted to fuck you, but now I’ve got something else in mind.” His mouth seemed to grow wider, but it was the change in smile on his face that made me bolt so fast I nearly got whiplash as I kicked my way out of those god-awful heels.

I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast before, my hair whipped by my face, my legs burned, and the acrid air stung my lungs with each breath I gulped into my body. I heard him behind me, snarling, screams of other demons, and curses as he barreled them over in his pursuit. I leapt over bodies and pools of blood; I couldn’t remember ever having the ability to run like that. In hindsight, deer can be fucking quick.  I could feel him getting closer and made a sharp turn around a corner in hopes to lose him. 

I landed face first into what felt like a designer pillow. I looked up slowly as a pair of slender arms grabbed my waist to steady me. Mismatched eyes looked down at me with a face of shock, which promptly shifted to confused. I gaped up at the demon in surprise. His confusion shifted to a dazzling smile with a shiny gold tooth. He tried to speak but was quickly interrupted.

“Y’know I usually charg-”

“Please help me; I’m being chased; he’s going to kill me; please help me!”

The tears began to stream down my face before I could stop them, and I began to violently shake.  I don’t know if it was the adrenaline or the fact that I hadn’t had a chance to even absorb my current situation, but I threw every ounce of trust into the stranger that had caught me. 

The demon’s eyes hardened and the smile dropped to a grimace. His arms tightened around my waist, and he quickly ushered me into a limo waiting down the sidewalk. 

He sat me down next to him and turned to look at me. The dazzling smile that he had before returned to his face. He slung his arm around me and pulled me right back up to the fluff on his chest.

“ Nice to meetcha; I’m Angel.”

Angel brought me to the hotel with him, but it was Charlie who insisted that I stay. While I wasn’t necessarily interested in redemption, Charlie was kind, and well…free rent. I was quickly introduced to the rest of the hotel, and became integrated rather quickly. I tried to help where I could, and soon joined the flow of cleaning, cooking, and helping to maintain the state of the hotel. I felt comfortable with the seemingly found family, including a certain Strawberry Pimp.

It was a shock after settling into my body with its new modifications. That fucking deer gave me a lovely parting gift on top of sending me into that tree. While my tattoos were still in their rightful place, the rest of my skin had faded to an off white, almost grey. Hazel eyes shifted to a black sclera and lavender iris. I gained soft ears and an unruly tail spotted with the same rainbow highlighting my black hair. The hooves were definitely an adjustment, no more pedicures for me unfortunately. 

That was six months ago.

Angel became my best friend within hours, we began spending our nights watching TV dramas and bothering Husk at the bar. He also started to pick up on my attraction for the buck in the hotel. I couldn’t deny my interest, but I most certainly pretended to unless it was in the confines of Angel’s room at 4 AM after copious amounts of alcohol. But that’s all it was, attraction.

Alastor and I started out with a friendly disposition; we weren’t friends per-se but we bantered and laughed at ridiculous jokes when in the same company.

That devolved into sarcastic quips and jabs, hiding coffee cups, and constantly trying to get a rise out of each other.

It started when he refused to change the radio station. While I enjoy jazz and the classics as much as anyone—I need variety. “Alastor, please. I have asked you THRICE now—and very nicely I might add—to change the station to something else.”

He continued to ignore me and hum along to the song currently playing and it was starting to really, piss me off. 

“Peepaw, I understand that you’re always reliving your ‘golden years—I get it! But if I have to listen to one more grainy, barely audible man groan about how he’s lonely, I might lose my mind.” 

“My dear, I understand your lack of appreciation for culture and class, but I will not be changing this station. End of discussion.” 

The fucker had the audacity to smirk at me. 

“Class? I’ll show you class, you audacious, virgin,  fuckboy!” 

The radio began to whirl with the changing of stations, moving back and forth—glowing the same purple as my eyes. Then suddenly it stopped, and the most obscene music I could possibly think of began to blare from the radio. A classic - CPR by CupcakKE;

Want your dick soaked? Place it down my throat

Tongue tickle yo' dick but not telling a joke

Peddle in this pussy that's how you rock a boat

It get live in this pussy, I'm not talking Periscope

“What in the fresh hell is that?”

The disgust on his face was absolutely priceless. He demanded that I turn it off, change it. He tried to switch it back himself, but I very clearly said;

“My dear, I understand your lack of appreciation for culture and class, but I will not be changing this station. End of discussion.”

I then began changing the station whenever I damn well pleased. He got one request to change it and if he fought me on it I would put on my most devious hits, all outrageously filthy. This turned our little friendship to a sparring match. 

Husker thus named me the resident ‘shit-disturber’, and ‘almost worse than him’. Both him and Vaggie were absolutely convinced I had a death wish. 

That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. I just loved seeing his ears flatten out and his smile strain. During my inquiry into whether or not he bleats after the discovery that I have my own (albeit embarrassing) squeak, I thought his head was going to pop off with the crack from his neck. The radio-static was so loud I had to cover my ears—and it was so satisfying.

Angel teased me relentlessly and told me he ‘can’t stand the sexual tension’, which I denied vehemently, as much as I might have wished there was. While he and I constantly teased each other he was always a gentleman regardless. I also found the tall, dark, and creepy vibe rather sexy, but I’d settle for imagining that there’s sexual tension and pushing his buttons.

Which is exactly what I’m going to do today during breakfast. 

As I come down into the dining area everyone is conversing amicably, Alastor looks content, casually sipping his coffee at the head of the table. Unfortunately for him, I had the most delightful thought last night, and I have been impatiently waiting to make it known to the group.

I quietly go to the kitchen and make my iced coffee; the excitement building in my chest. As I go to sit down I can feel the smile on my face spreading even wider.

“Good Morning Everyone!” They all turn their attention in my direction and the strangeness of my enthusiasm. I am usually…unpleasant if I’m out of bed before 10 AM, but I don’t believe anything could ruin my mood today; I could barely sleep with the anticipation of what’s about to transpire.

Alastor looks over his mug in my direction and it’s clear that he is suspicious of my jovial mood—and he should be.

“Alastor! As I was falling asleep last night I was thinking about Vox.”He inhales a sharp breath, and a new rush of excitement wiggles its way up my spine. “ His silly bit about you being venison or cooking you? I just think it’s ridiculous! You’re far too lean.”

Husk sits across from me with a look of abject horror on his face, and I can only continue with unbridled glee.“I mean, can you imagine? Deer are already gamey—with your figure, it would be far too tough to eat!”

The sound of his grip tightening on his cup and the beginnings of crackles in the air only furthers my resolve. 

He responds with clenched teeth and a static filled voice. “Is that so, little doe?”

I nod my head with a determined look on my face - seriousness overcoming my smile. “In my humble opinion yes; I think it would be better to mount you on the wall instead. I’m personally a huge fan of taxidermy.”

Alastor is barely containing his rage at this point when he asks me;

“Maybe we should eat you instead, you’re obviously the better choice on the menu with your proportions, or would you rather be stuffed and mounted on the wall instead, hm?” 

I paint an innocent smile on my face and finish the rest of my coffee out of my cup, making sure to slurp as obnoxiously as I can. I smack my lips and stand up from the table.

“Alastor, I want you to take one good look at this fat ass and tell me if it looks like I give a fuck whether I’m eaten or stuffed.” 

For a moment there is only silence,

A quick look around continues to feed my giddiness. There are looks of horror on Charlie and Husk’s faces; Angel and Vaggie trying desperately not to choke; finally my gaze falls on the man of the hour.

I don’t know if I have ever made him so incredibly mad. His face is red, teeth clenched, smile stretched to its limits. His antlers are slowly growing larger, eyes flickering to radio dials, his body getting larger. The sound of radio static and crackling is nearing uncomfortable levels. 

“Thanks for the lovely breakfast everyone! See you later for group activities.”

As I walk away, I can hear the sound of a mug shattering. On the way back to my room, I am nearly vibrating. The satisfaction of getting such a visceral reaction from both Alastor and the rest of the group was exquisite. ‘Resident shit disturber’ indeed. I’m not naive enough to believe I won’t face extreme retaliation, but I’m ninety percent sure he won’t kill me. 

The rest of the day goes as usual, and I see very little of Alastor. While I’m still riding the high of this morning, I begin to get nervous. He doesn’t attend any group activities, and while that isn’t too far from the norm, it still has my nerves on edge. By the end of the day I’m ready to crawl into bed, get off, and sleep until noon. 

I make it back to my room and slip inside when I hear the door lock behind me and the shadows in the room rising.

I am so, so fucked.

A squeak leaves my mouth when I feel myself dropping into what feels like nothing before landing roughly onto a carpeted floor. I lift my head and see a fireplace, small table, and the open expanse of what appears to be a bayou. The overwhelming feeling of both dread and excitement shoots through my body as I realize exactly where I am. 

I attempt to get up to my feet, but am forced to stay on my knees by the large clawed hands squeezing my shoulders. Alastor is bent at the waist; he’s larger than normal, with a strained smile and antlers out; his clear red eyes are the only clue to his dwindling self control. He puts his face directly in front of mine and my skin prickles from the static. 

“Hello little doe, are you pleased with your lovely little performance at breakfast?” 

“Were you not? I thought it was excellent.” 

“Why are you so intent on being a vexing little Brat?” He loses his static the moment he says ‘brat’. A clear voice filled with true frustration. 

The sound of his voice causes my cunt to slick and my body heat to rise. My cheeks flush in embarrassment, and for once in my life, I have no response. I just continue to stare into the glowing red eyes that are searching mine for some semblance of an answer. Maybe Angel was right and it was sexual tension?

His right hand comes to wrap around my throat; his left finds my hip as he guides me up off of the floor. I’m now standing in front of him, having to crane my neck to look up into his eyes, his size dwarfing mine. I can feel my breathing getting heavier and my slick soaking through the fabric of my panties.

“Tell me, What would you prefer? Being stuffed, eaten, or mounted on the wall?” His eyes narrow as he squeezes the hand around my throat, and my mouth goes dry. I try to think of a proper response, but my brain is fogged with his eyes, his cologne, and the heat consuming every inch of my body. 

All I can do is close my eyes, whimper and lean into the hand around my throat. I feel him squeeze, and I know he’s demanding an answer. I look up at him, and I can feel the tears gathering in my eyes; I can feel my heart pounding in my chest in anticipation. 

“Anything Al; whatever you want.”

I feel a tongue slide up my cheek; he groans deeply, and I can feel his claws digging into my hip. His lips hover over mine and I move to close the distance but his hands stop me. He moves his hands to my cheeks and squeezes them together, my mouth popping open.

“Open your eyes, doe; look at me. You will get whatever I deem to give you. You will not cum unless I say so, you will beg for release and will not get it until I deem you worthy of such pleasures after your abhorrent behavior. Are we clear, Brat?” 

I let out a soft moan as a response.

His smile widens and a soft phrase leaves his lips that turns me to mush. “Good girl.”

Another fall into nothingness, and my back is on soft sheets, any clothing I had gone. He’s standing at the end of the bed, studying my naked body and I’m suddenly shy being so exposed. I move to cover myself when I see the thick black

Tentacles surge from behind him to grab and trap my arms and legs. My arms are pulled above my head, my knees bent, and legs spread. The hungry look on his face has me blushing and closing my eyes, which fly back open when I feel his long wet tongue slip through my folds. It pulls a high pitched moan from my throat and a groan from him.

“Maybe I should just eat you, little brat, keep you tied to this bed just for me.”

He continues to slowly lick and suck on my clit, just enough to bring me close to the edge, only to switch techniques and rip me away from it again, fucking me with his tongue, swirling it around my clit slowly, flat tongued laps through my folds. Tears prick at the edge of my eyes before I start begging.

“Al, Al, please; I can’t take it anymore; please let me cum. I need it; please, I’m begging you!”

He just continues with a torturous pace and keeps his smile in place. 

“Fuck me; stuff me; I don’t care, please! I need to cum; I need it, please!”

He stops and brings his face to mine, a smirk there, his lips shining. “I want a nice, sincere apology from you, Brat. For your atrocious performance and disrespect today.” 

“I’m so, so sorry Al; I promise I won’t ever do it again; I’ll be so good for you. Please let me cum; please fuck me; I’ll be good!”

As soon as I finish, his lips are on mine; they’re soft and bruising. This kiss is tongue and teeth and months of repressed sexual desires. My hands are suddenly released, and I’m instantly ripping at his shirt and pants. My hands can’t move fast enough. My mind is spinning, and my body is aching with need. 

I finally feel his length hot and heavy on my cunt; it slides easily through my soaking folds and we both moan at the contact. He opens his eyes and looks into mine, always the gentleman. “I  need to hear a yes, darling,” he moves his mouth down to my neck; I can feel his teeth gently scraping against my skin. 

The softness of the question makes my heart swell in my chest, “Please, yes, Al; I need you.”

With one rough thrust, he stretches and fills me, his hips flush against mine. I’m so unbelievably full, his tip pressing and pushing against my cervix. He slowly pulls out, dragging his cock against my oversensitive walls before roughly thrusting back inside. I can feel myself gushing around him with each rough thrust in, soaking my and his thighs.

I’m babbling and crying out his name over and over. Begging him for more.“Please make me cum, Alastor; I want to cum all over your cock; I want to feel you cum inside me; I’m begging you!” My eyes are glassy and staring into his own.

He picks up his speed, ramming himself in and out of me roughly. He brings a claw down to press and circle my clit, then gently kisses my lips and whispers into my ear, “You’ve been so patient, little doe; such a good girl. Cum for me.”

One hard thrust, and a scream is ripping through my throat as hot thrumming pleasure surges through my body; I can feel my heartbeat in every cell of my body. Before I have time to recover, he continues his brutal pace, “One more, darling. I need you to give me one more.”

“I can’t; it’s too much I can’t!”

“You can; cum with me. I need to feel you milking my cock.”

He tilts my hips, and the position has him hitting that spot inside me over and over again. I can feel the tingling heat starting to grow in my abdomen once more. I tell him I’m getting close, and he doubles his efforts. Sweat drips down his forehead; I can feel his cock getting hotter inside me. He grabs my knees and pushes them to my chest, bending me in half. The position sends his cock even deeper inside me. 

I’m screaming his name, no doubt the entire hotel hearing my cries of absolute bliss. His thumb returns to my clit and presses down firmly, rubbing those perfect circles. With his mouth by my shoulder, he commands me again,“Cum with me, now.”The moment I feel him spilling his hot seed inside me and his teeth in my shoulder, another orgasm sends electric waves through my body.

I slowly come back down and open my eyes; he’s back to his regular self, seemingly relaxed. 

“Hey Alastor, I have a question.”

“And what is that, little doe?”

-“Do I just have to get you really pissed and you’ll fuck me like that again?” 

Thank you so much to the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes for editing for me! You're amazing!

[im-da-bronx]

Don’t leave these in the tags, they’re pure gold

Everyone [except his brothers] thinks Cody is like Obi-Wan in the sense he doesn't get hungover because it never shows, he just seems like it doesn't bother him at all but it's because he's so good at playing it off, he can stand through an entire meeting with a straight face and not blink but the minute it's over he strolls out the room and immediately vomits in a bin then walks away with a straight face, Obi-Wan stands back laughing because he's a bastard who feels nothing

[alcoholfreenayeon]

WHAT IF you are at a bar or something and Sana and Miyeon come to entice you back to their place 😈😈 (sana and miyeon x male reader) 🤭🤭

A/N: It’s finally done bestie, hope you enjoy🤭!

I want that

CW: male!reader x Sana and Miyeon, NSFW, Smut, somewhat hardcore, hint of fluff.

You were sitting alone at the booth, your glass empty and watching the tv, some soccer game going on but you weren’t really paying attention. Feeling someone gaze at you every now and then, it was the average day at the bar, not too crowded but you wouldn’t say it’s empty either. Your friends had left a few minutes earlier because they all had some reason or the other. Work, partners, whatever. It didn’t matter though, you liked your own company at times, it gave you some time to reflect on things.

As you contemplated between going home or having another drink, you were interrupted when someone asked if they could sit with you. Looking up at the person, you saw an absolute goddess, she was easily one of the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. You were too much in awe to reply but the girl just politely smiled and took your lack of objection as a yes and sat down.

“You don’t mind if my friend joins right?”, she asked sweetly.

“Uh, no”, you replied still awestruck when you turned to look at the friend and nearly fell out of your chair. Like the first girl was absolutely stunning but her friend, god you found her so irresistibly beautiful. Your mouth open while she sat down.

“I’m Sana and this is Miyeon”, the first girl introduced.

“h-hi, ahem, Hey, I’m Y/N”, you replied, losing your voice for a second.

The girls giggled and smiled prettily at you. They seemed really calm yet somewhat excited while you were losing composure like anything, you couldn’t even decide which one of them to look at. Somehow you managed to not seem like a complete idiot and weirdo and made some conversation.

Everything was going smoothly over the next few minutes, you were even managing to gain some confidence when felt something brush your foot and then saw Miyeon glance at you for a second, her cheeks slightly flushed before she looked away, smiling. You suddenly realized your own heart was beating quickly for some reason and cleared your throat trying to calm yourself down.

“Do you wanna come with us?”, Miyeon asked out of the blue, suppressing a smile. Sana giggled and gave her a nudge.

You felt dumbstruck, was this a joke? What did they mean by that because you totally thought you were interpreting that in a few different ways, all of which seemed greatly appealing but you couldn’t help but also think that maybe you didn’t understand what Miyeon asked. “Uhm…what?”, you choke, not knowing how to respond.

“I don’t live very far from here, the bar will close soon, maybe we can continue our…fun over there”, she said innocently batting her eyes at you while smiling so prettily.

Now, you’ve definitely heard of people getting killed like this but surely this was not the case, like seriously there’s no way these beautiful girls were some sort of deranged psychopaths after your kidneys or something. Your brain was practically shouting at you to proceed with caution but your heart whispered oh so convincingly that this was heading exactly where you never in your wildest dreams would have imagined. Unfortunately for your brain, your heart had you sold and any thoughts to take caution fell on deaf ears.

“Oh that sounds great, but I can’t drive since I’ve had a few drinks”, you manage, you could feel adrenaline pumping through your body as you thought of all the possibilities.

“That’s ok, we can just take a Uber, that’s okay with you right?”, Sana offered.

Sitting between the two girls in car, you wonder what you’d done to be so lucky. However, your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Sana put her hand on your knee before slowly starting to pull it upwards, onto your thighs, teasingly.

You freeze, not knowing how to react, understandably so and that’s when Sana leans in and whispers, “Does this excite you?”

You nearly whimpered and just as you are about to turn towards her, Miyeon’s voice stops you, “Unnie! You are so greedy, you can’t have all his attention.”

Before the words even sink in, you feel Miyeon grab your cheeks with both hands and she begins to make out with you sloppily.

This had to be heaven right? Like, surely life can’t get better than this, you think to yourself.

You begin to kiss her back and she seemed surprised for a moment before continuing but with more aggression. At the same time, Sana was practically in your pants and made some cheeky comment probably but you didn’t hear it, you were too engrossed with making out with Miyeon.

This continued for a few minutes before Miyeon pulled back, her cheeks slightly flushed and she was smiling mischievously while Sana was biting her lips and tying up her hair. You were trying to breath normally even though you felt out of breath but you didn’t wanna let the girls know that. Fortunately, before anything else could happen you had arrived at the destination and the three of you got out. You offered to pay but the girls insisted that they would.

“You can give us something else in return”, Sana said leaning towards you, clearing the last doubts of where this night was headed.

You were breathing hard now, as Sana noisily sucked on your tip while looking up at you. After a few moments, she stopped sucking, winked at you and then practically swallowed you all the way to your base. That took you by so much surprise you couldn’t do anything except move your hands on her head, inhaling sharply.

This continued for far less time than you would have liked but you had to make her stop or else she would end up finishing you there. You somehow manage to pull her off and Sana pouts a little but doesn’t complain. You pant and try to reset but before you can completely recover you feel another pair of lips taking in your cock. At this point your heart feels like it could explode. Miyeon struggles to take you as deep as Sana but makes up for it by somehow having more enthusiasm than her wanting to straight up suck the life out of you.

You end up making her stop after a few minutes too and take another few seconds to calm yourself down. It was getting harder and harder to that though, between feeling so desperate for your release and the fact that Miyeon had been kissing you for the past minute.

You become distracted when you see Sana lay on the bed on her stomach and look back at you seductively and you can’t help yourself and you get on top of her, she squeals excitedly when she feels you climb on her, arching her back. You were feeling feral now after being close to cumming twice and weren’t going to go easy at all.

Entering her took both of your breaths away, you sighed shakily, trying to compose yourself while Sana’s eyes stooped dreamily while she bit her lips. She didn’t let you off easily though and almost immediately started to push back against you forcing you to grab her shoulders and hold her down. She giggled at that but that turned into a gasp real quick when you began pounding her hard. She gripped the bedsheets tightly, panting as you filling her repeatedly. It only took you a few minutes of fucking her before you felt her clench and cum, letting out quiet moans as she came.

You smirked, she has been acting really cocky for a while now so it felt good to see her be so helpless now. Giving her only a few moments of rest before you begin pounding her again. You place your hand on her cheek, raising her head a little and to your satisfaction, Sana follows your lead and gently bites your fingers, whimpering as that only drives you to become rougher.

It was becoming harder and harder for you to focus on anything else but you felt Miyeon climb on the bed too, looking at you and Sana somewhat enviously. But you were not able to focus on that for too long. Especially when Sana was whining now as she was getting close to cumming once again which of course made her pussy tighter as she squeezed and clenched. Just when you thought you were about to reach the point of no return, Sana cums and you somehow manage to hold on. Both of you panting hard, a blissful smile on Sana’s face as she was slowly getting down from her high.

You turned to face Miyeon and found her pouting, “Did you really like her so much that you couldn’t even look at me?”

“Uhm….”, you tried to find your words but you had no defense.

“No”, she put a finger on your lips, “Don’t make excuses….if you really want to prove me wrong then do it through your actions”, she said while pulling you on top of her. “If you really mean it, then, Ruin. Me.”.

Those words turned on something inside of you, not that you needed encouragement to fuck her.

Pinning her hands either side of her head, you waste no time and enter her and it was honestly, quite possibly the best sensation you had ever felt. You begin to thrust immediately, ramming as deep as you can each thrust, stretching her slightly. You weren’t sure how long you would be able to last considering you were already quite on edge from Sana and the fact that Miyeon was staring at you so intently didn’t help at all.

At the same time, you felt her fists clench as each thrust was literally seeming to take her breath away. The two of you fucked for…..minutes?….an hour?….you didn’t even know, it felt like a decent amount of time but it wasn’t enough. Like you didn’t want this to ever end. You just wanted to keep fucking her for forever. At some point Miyeon broke through your grip and freed her hands, wrapping it around your shoulders, trying to pull you closer.

You were panting with each thrust now, trying not to cum, aware of how dangerously close you were to your release, ready to pull out any second.

That’s when Miyeon, grabbed your face, staring at you a moment too long and gave you a deep kiss, “Stay in me, don’t pull out, fill me up…please”, she whimpered practically while at the same time wrapping her legs around your waist tightly not giving you much of a choice really. Not that you had any problems with that. You began to pound her faster, both of you moving in perfect rhythm.

That’s when Miyeon cums, managing a strangled gasp as she shakes with pleasure, her convulsions send you over the edge as well and you practically explode inside her, wave after wave of your cum filling her up. As you both came together, it felt euphoric and eternal yet at the same time it also felt like it only lasted for a second. You both were panting heavily, looking at each other and you hesitated a little bit and leant in, kissing her passionately for a few seconds before you pull away. Miyeon blushes a little when you pull away, slowly letting go of you, almost like she wanted to hold on for a bit more.

Sana scoots over, “oh, you both seemed to enjoy it a lot more, Y/N was she really that much better than me?, she said smiling mischievously.

You freeze, glancing at Miyeon who looked like she would slap you if you gave the wrong answer. You fumbled over your words without saying any real answer which caused both girls to giggle which made you realize they were just teasing.

“Well, it’s quite late and us girls need our sleep”, Sana said suddenly, signaling that was time for you to leave. “Especially, after you tired us out so much”, Miyeon added with a giggle.

You were handed your clothes by Miyeon, a bit puzzled because you were pretty sure that’s not where you had left them but maybe you just were lost in your excitement and forgot. Regardless, you bid them goodbye and went on your way.

As you waited at the bus stop, you reflected on everything that just happened. For some reason, your thoughts were lingering back to Miyeon repeatedly. You lie to yourself about why that is, knowing full well the truth but you just felt too proud at the moment to admit it, even if it was to yourself. Luckily for you, the bus approached before you truly lost in your thoughts and feelings.

As you sat, you couldn’t help but feel something squish in your pocket. You search to find a small piece of paper scrunched up, curious, you unscramble it and find a series of numbers. No, a number, a phone number below which was written ‘M’ with a heart next to it. Looking out of the window, you smile to yourself, excited, your heart fluttering, perhaps you are going to have to revisit your feelings sooner than you thought…..

[heeseungiez]

nothing i don’t have | pjs

part 2: support our son

pairings! park jongseong x reader, ft. huening kai x reader

summary! it was supposed to be simple, you and jay would fuck whenever either of you felt horny — no feelings. but it was hard not to catch feelings where park jongseong was involved. so you took the easy way out: you ended it.

genre! texts, written fic, college au, love triangle (corner)

word count! 1k

content warnings! swearing

author's note! i'm still trying to figure out what app/site to make the texts on so if anyone has a good suggestion please help please i'm struggling

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You used to come over to Jay’s place nearly every other day. But it had been two weeks, and you were nowhere to be seen. It was to the point that Heeseung, Jake and Sunghoon began asking if you would ever come over again, to which Jay was forced to answer that you were probably hanging out with Huening Kai. He didn’t know your actual whereabouts most of the time, but he guessed. Which made him internally cringe every time.

What he disliked the most, however, was his incessant urge to text you whenever the smallest inconvenient thing happened in his day. He was sure you would very likely reply, but he was scared of what it would be like now that the dynamic of your relationship changed. It should probably be the same, but what if your voice over text changed because now you were seeing someone else?

Jay wasn’t fond of the idea in the slightest. Did you even really like Huening Kai? Who the fuck was he to take you away from Jay? (Yet you weren’t his to begin with.) He missed you, but he could hardly voice it out to himself, let alone you.

The day he nearly killed a man on the spot was when he saw you and Huening Kai walking side by side on campus. It wasn’t just that, actually, because the two of you were holding hands, and you were laughing about something Kai had said. It was even worse because he was clearly walking you to class — a class that you shared with Jay. So you were bound to cross paths, and no matter how hard Jay tried to slow his pace down, you still managed to notice him.

“Oh, hey, Jay!” you called him over with a smile on your face. It was brighter than he remembered, and he couldn’t figure out if it was just his brain playing tricks, or whether you were genuinely happier than he had ever seen you before. “You know Kai, right?” you asked innocently, but it only brought back Jay’s anger from the Sanctuary Café.

Heeseung just wanted to take Jay out to an open mic. Neither of them knew that it would also be the day of your first date with Huening Kai. Jay hated every second of being there, but to you, it must’ve been an unforgettable night.

“And Kai, this is Jay,” you said with a smile, pointing at him.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Kai stretched out his hand forward, but the gaze with which he beheld Jay told him that he knew everything about you and Jay. That you gave him every single gory detail of what had been going on before the two of you began dating, and that made Jay even more furious. Because he refused to acknowledge any other emotion he felt.

He ignored the tightness in his chest as he shook Kai’s hand with a nod. “I’ve heard nothing about you,” Jay replied, not lying, because he genuinely knew nothing about Kai besides the few pieces of gossip and what Heeseung divulged some time ago. Kai wasn’t surprised by that information at all. You hadn’t told Jay anything about him either.

“We have to get to class, but I’ll see you later, yeah?” You looked at Kai with such admiration in your eyes that Jay wanted to step between the both of you and push Kai out of the way. But he couldn’t do it. All he could do was stand and watch and constantly clench and unclench his fists.

“Yeah, of course,” Kai replied, bending down to kiss your temple, but you grabbed the collar of his band tee and brought his mouth down to your lips. Kai let out an involuntary giggle as it happened, and Jay had to abruptly turn away, incapable of not rolling his eyes.

“Bye,” you mumbled quietly, a soft smile decorating your lips.

“Band practice starts at five.”

“I know, Kai,” you laughed and shook your head. “I’ll be there. We need to support our son.”

Jay furrowed his brows, but with Kai’s knowing grin and playful roll of his eyes, neither of you was going to elaborate on what you actually mean.

Your son?

And yet that was the first thing Jay asked about once Kai was finally leaving you alone, his back turned to the two of you. “Your son? The fuck happened in the last two weeks?”

You chuckled at Jay’s confusion, an amused look brightening up your features. “Yujin’s still in high school,” you said, shaking your head. “The keyboardist. If you remember him. He’s actually just started his second year.”

“So you call him your son?”

“Yeah, he’s the whole band’s son. And mine, now.” You grinned proudly, just thinking about Yujin. “Anyways, I’m sorry I haven’t been in contact much lately, but I’m still getting used to this whole new dynamic of me having a boyfriend and all that.”

“Oh, you’re official already?”

“I’d hope so,” you said, shrugging. “What about you? Any new conquests lately? Surely, you already found someone else? Maybe you’ve already had someone on your roster, you know, that kinda stuff.” 

If Jay wasn’t too busy cringing at your words, he’d probably notice how tense your tone was, and how much you hated saying them, but he didn’t. All he heard was that you really didn’t care about him any more than a casual fuck and perhaps a somewhat close friend. 

“Nah, not really,” Jay replied anyway. “I’m actually kinda… I don’t know. Haven’t felt like doing much lately.”

“Right. So just you and Jane?” you asked teasingly.

“What?” And maybe it should’ve hit Jay instantly that you were speaking of his guitar, but instead he thought that you were suggesting he really was with somebody else already, and he did not like that. “Oh.” He realised moments later.

“Yeah. I guess you could say that.” He nodded. Jay had to count all his small victories of today among the losses, too, however, because you were actively speaking to him finally. And not just that — you sat down next to him in class.

tags: (send an ask or comment to be added!) @moonpri @addictedtohobi

[porcelainseashore]

Us

Pairing: Guitarist! Leon Kennedy x Singer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You've joined Chris, Claire and Leon in Stars Rebellion as the band's new lead vocalist. If you thought chasing fame was hard, dealing with your growing feelings for a certain blonde guitarist might just take the cake.

Content & Warnings: Rock bands, friends to lovers, romance, slow burn, feelings realization, fluff and angst, swearing, recreational drug use, drinking, implied alcohol abuse, sexual harassment, suggestive themes, panic attacks, religious guilt, other Resident Evil characters (Chris, Claire, Ada, Wesker, Jill, Luis, Irons, Steve).

Author's Note: Mostly imagined RE4R Leon in this, though he's a cocky little shit in the beginning and mellows out later. As inspo, I’ve had Ethel Cain’s Michelle Pfeiffer on repeat and you’ll see why in the story. Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for your wonderful feedback!

AO3 Link

It had only been a few weeks since you’d joined the Stars Rebellion, the band you were currently in, thanks to the recommendation of a friend of a friend. You’d somehow coasted along through college, finally free of your parents’ clutches, and made a new life for yourself along the way. It was as if you could be who you really were, without any tied past or history holding you back, and you’d never felt more alive.

You were backstage, warming up before it was time to head out for your first performance. Chris had come over to give everyone a pep talk, while Leon tapped out a beat on the body of his pacific blue Fender guitar impatiently. Claire was nodding away to her brother’s words as she frowned at herself in the cosmetic mirror, the bright LED lights illuminating her flawless skin. You sat at the back, quietly keeping to yourself as you always do, ignoring the jitters in your hands. The adrenaline was kicking in now, you were used to it. Soon, you’d be a completely different person. It was as if once you were on stage, a match was struck and you were on fire.

For now, you contented yourself with recalling the events of how you ended up with this motley crue. It had been a warm, humid Thursday afternoon, when you were done with your classes for the day, and you made your way over to one of the rental practice rooms at the back of a second-hand record store just a little off campus. Your friend Jill had told you that another friend of hers was looking for a new vocalist for their band. Seeing how you’d been singing on and off with various student bands that never really had the drive to go anywhere, she hooked you up, stating that said friend, Claire, was the most determined person she’d ever met.

So here you were, knocking on the door of the shabby, makeshift rehearsal room, covered in countless band and anarchic motto stickers.

“Come on in!” A chirpy, high-pitched voice called out.

The door creaked on its hinges as you opened it by just a crack, enough for you to poke your head through.

“Aw, she’s a shy one,” a boy with floppy, blonde hair who was sitting at the corner, hunched over his guitar remarked. His tone had no hint of maliciousness in it, just pure curiosity.

“Shut it, Kennedy.” The lady, wearing a distinct red leather jacket that matched the color of her hair tied back in a springy ponytail, rolled her eyes before greeting you with a warm smile.

“Hey…” She stuck her hand out, as you cautiously entered the room, taking in the new faces around you. “I’m Claire. You must be Jill’s friend.”

You returned back a feeble smile as you shook her hand. “Yeah, uh, and the Stars Rebellion, huh?”

“That’s right,” a beefy guy with cropped, dark brown hair behind the drum kit piped up. “Our previous vocalist left,” he paused, with his brows furrowed as if he had been reminded of something unpleasant. “You know how it’s like these days.”

You nodded understandingly as he continued. “We’ve got a sweet gig in about two weeks, so we need a replacement fast. You heard our stuff?”

“Yeah, ’course.” Jill had sent you all the recordings and info you needed to prepare yourself for today.

“Great, so-”

“Whoa, hold up a second,” Claire interjected. “Older brothers,” she sighed. “You know what they’re like.” She pointed towards the drummer. “Speaking of which, that’s my very own one over there.”

“Chris, say hello,” she ordered.

“Hi,” his monotone greeting accosted you while he waved over with a drumstick in hand. His confident and no-nonsense persona struck you as someone who was the natural leader of the group.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s really a cuddly bear underneath,” she whispered loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. “Isn’t that right, Chris?”

He grunted in reply, still looking as stoic as ever, his square jawline unflinching, as if his sister’s words had no effect on him.

“Anyway, I guess you can already tell, I’m on bass.” She swayed her hips a little, gesturing towards the instrument that was strapped around her.

The blonde cleared his throat, seemingly irritated at being relegated to the position of the last person to be introduced.

“And that.” She pointed over to him. “Well, that’s just Leon.”

With a bold smirk, he cradled the guitar to his chest, as his fingers danced along the fretboard, unleashing a cool, intricate riff that spiraled through the air.

“Also a fucking show off,” Claire retorted.

You caught his gaze and the bright blue eyes that lured you in dangerously close, like you were Icarus flying towards the sun. He was one of those boys your father had warned you about. Handsome, charming, but the devil in disguise. You could still hear his stern words about perdition and hellfire booming in your ear. You closed your eyes before they hurt too much.

“So, erm, why don’t we start with the first track on our demo?” Claire’s voice snapped you out of your reverie.

Blinking your eyes open, you bowed your head slightly in response, before getting into position behind the mic. You can do this. A silent prayer reverberated through your head, as the opening chords played.

And just like it happened every time, that magical switch flipped, and you became someone else entirely different from yourself, yet it belonged to every part of you. As you bellowed, growled and sighed breathily into the mic like a rockstar on acid, you noticed a change in the air around you and how your future bandmates looked at you in awe. It felt like an electric current coursing through your veins. It felt like coming home.

You only needed to go through another two more songs, before they were completely floored and decided there and then that they wanted you in. The vibe between the four of you was great, there was no denying that. And you had already started throwing in some moves that were usually saved for performances with Leon, as all of you jammed together.

“That was fucking awesome!” Leon exclaimed, with Claire following suit. Even Chris was smiling widely.

“Yeah, that felt really good,” you panted, a little out of breath from the exertion.

All at once, Chris patted you on the back, cementing your entry. “Welcome to the family.” You felt your heart tug at the last word. Could you really belong here now?

“Nice to finally have another girl in the band!” Claire blurted out, as she pulled you in for a quick hug.

“Mm hm, very nice.” Leon gave you a cheeky wink, before Claire smacked the back of his head.

“Behave.”

“Oh, I will,” he snickered.

You shuddered, wondering how a silly remark like that could get you so riled up, as you chose to suppress whatever thoughts that came bubbling towards the surface. He was just one of those cocky bastards who would let fame get to their head, you discerned. Probably had a bunch of groupies lined up too. So you paid no more attention to him than needed.

A large, rough hand landed on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “You good?”

You shook yourself out of the daydream, coming back to reality backstage, as you eyed the imposing, broad figure in front of you. “Yeah, I’m ready. Thanks, Chris.”

“Don’t mention it.”

As you strode out onto the stage, the crowd clapped and whistled, though the reception seemed rather lukewarm. Perhaps most of them were waiting for the later bands, who also happened to be the more established ones, to play. It didn’t matter though. Your job was to get them hyped up, and you knew how to do it well.

Leon nodded at you, indicating that he’d start running through the beginning licks of the song on the setlist you’d all prepped. At the same time, he gave you an encouraging smile, which eased the tension a little. Even though you’d only got to know him a few weeks ago, you soon realized that your first impression of him wasn’t exactly the most accurate, and that despite being an insufferable prick, he had another side to him that was caring and gentle. He’d patiently helped you run through the songs with him, and even took a couple of your suggestions in improving them. He hung out with you outside of band practice, wanting to get to know you as a person, and trying to make you feel comfortable within the group. Most musicians had a stick up their ass and would’ve never given you the time of day. But he did. You’d even go as far as to call him a lovable asshole.

As the whirring of Leon’s guitar filled the space, you clenched your fist, pumping it above your head as you let out a low snarl into the mic, before belting out the lyrics, your voice raw and powerful as it soared over the riffs and the steady rhythm of the drum and bass. At a particularly heavy drop, you leaped into the air, before landing on your feet and tearing through the vocals as you rocked out with Leon at the front, playing off the energy you exchanged with each other.

It was infectious, like a feverish dream, and the crowd’s excitement grew. Among the sea of bodies pressed together, you could just about make out the look of enthusiasm on their faces, their eyes sparking with the thrill of the moment, as they jumped, moshed and cheered to the music. Time seemed to pass by so quickly, as one song flew into the other. In between, you made sure to introduce the band, thank the organizers and the audience themselves, coaxing more screams and shouts in unison as you teased them about hearing another song, what it was about, praising them on how great of a crowd they were, and with a sly wink, asking them if they could give you more. And they were more than happy to oblige.

In the final track, a devilish grin broke out across your face as you turned towards Chris and Claire, both of them laughing and shaking their heads as they knew what was coming next, before you faced the audience again. Tapping your foot in time to the beat, you murmured sultrily into the mic, “You wanna see me swallow this mic whole?”

The crowd went mental at the proposal as your velvety laughter rang out across the venue. “Come on, you can do better than that.” You pouted, licking your lips suggestively. “How much do you want it?”

Once the crowd roared, you nodded in approval and pulled the cord of the mic taut between your hands, making a grand show of it, as you tilted your head back, slowly inserting the head of the mic downwards into your mouth. As it went in, you bit at the bottom of the head, gripping it securely between your teeth, as you went hands free and a scream ripped through your throat at the climax of the song. 

Sweat and energy radiated from every pore, as your band members kicked into action. Leon jutted his hips out, launching into a fierce, breathtaking guitar solo, his fingers pressing and weaving in and out of the strings like a blinding lightning. Claire remained the grounding force in a whirlwind of melodies, keeping a consistent beat effortlessly, as her head swayed from side to side. Chris added to the wall of sound with each strike and rattle of the snare drum, quickening the pace as he worked in the bass drum pedal and clashes on the cymbals in perfect timing, his eyes laced in concentration on the controlled chaos unfolding before him.

To say you ended in a bright explosion of sound was an understatement. The four of you hugged each other tightly and bowed to a resounding chorus of cheers and hoots, stamping their feet for yet another encore. You saluted and waved at them, your final words spilling out into the mic in gratitude, “Thanks so much, we are the Stars Rebellion! Have a good night!”

As you headed off stage, Leon pounced behind you, pulling you flush against his chest in a sweaty hug as you gasped in surprise. His hair was in a mess, darkened and clinging to his forehead in damp tendrils. “Holy shit, you were a completely different person up there! Y’know, like Ian fucking Curtis or something?” 

He blabbered on nearly incoherently, name-dropping various famous lead singers. “Karen O, yeah? And Alice Glass…”

“God, just give her a break already,” Claire giggled as she shoved Leon off of you.

You stifled a laugh, your meek personality returning the more you moved away from the spotlight. “Yeah, I guess? Um, thanks.”

Leon paused, looking at you in disbelief as he shook his head. “Jeez, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Lady in streets, freak in the sheets,” he mumbled almost inaudibly as you choked on your saliva and coughed violently at his quip.

“Leon,” Chris warned, as Leon held his hands up in mock surrender. 

Turning towards you, Chris sighed wearily, “Sorry about that. You did good though.”

Before you had a chance to answer, an alluring, provocative voice interrupted. “You all did good out there.”

Spinning around, you came face-to-face with a stylishly dressed lady in a red, skintight catsuit and dark leather heeled boots. A sleek, black bob framed her face, highlighting her sharp features and high cheekbones. You noticed that she focused all her attention on Leon, even though she was addressing the group.

Leon’s eyes widened, her outfit clearly seemed to pique his interest, and you could feel Chris tense up behind you, as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. At this, Claire whispered into your ear with a hint of venom, “That’s Ada, the bassist of Midnight Sun.”

Midnight Sun. That rang a bell. They were one of the more established bands in the scene, though you’d heard rumors about how haughty they could be and that they would stop at nothing to climb their way up.

“Oh, there you are.” A man with slicked-back blonde hair and dark sunglasses sauntered over coolly. If someone had told you that he was an extra from The Matrix, you would’ve believed them in a heartbeat. 

The look of disdain was prominent on his face as he glanced over at you and your bandmates. He clucked his tongue derisively. “Tell me, what is it like being the warm up crew?”

Leon was about to lash out, but Chris’ reflexes were faster, holding his shoulder in a vice-like grip. Leon huffed, as he shrugged Chris’ hand off, conceding to remaining cordial for now.

“Wesker, you’re on next!” A stagehand called out from afar.

The man tipped his head in response, before wrapping an arm around Ada’s shoulders, pulling her away from your group as he smirked. “Watch and learn, amateurs.”

“Bunch of douchebags,��� Claire muttered as all of you made your way towards the dressing room to freshen up. 

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Leon peering over his shoulder another time at the lady in red.

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“Seriously? That’s what was written?” You groaned, chucking Leon’s phone to the side as both of you lay sprawled out on a picnic mat across a grassy hill which connected to a park. A couple of liquor and beer bottles littered your side. Clearly, this was more of a boozy brunch than an actual brunch at all. You should’ve known better than to trust Leon to prepare something substantial. However, whenever he was around you, it seemed like he would make an effort to control his drinking habits, at least to a point where he was only tipsy but not wasted each time.

Since the last gig, the band had received many other offers to play at various venues and Chris had been eager to accept them all, in the hopes of attracting a talent scout who would spot and sign you to a major label. You’d gone on stage a few more times, with each round bringing you new fans and followers, as well as getting hounded by music journalists. Claire seemed to have a word for everything and this was no exception. She described them as rats, and in particular, a man named Luis Sera proved to be the biggest one of them all.

You remembered his irritating voice which had a slight lilt to it, as he called out for you after one of your shows in the previous month. “Señorita… hey!”

He definitely had a flair for making a spectacle out of everything that he did, and soon you’d discover that he was also a master of exaggeration. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, mi amor.” He bowed his head dramatically, as he took your hand, bringing your knuckles to meet his lips.

In the end, your band had given him half an hour of your time, only for him to grossly alter whatever answers all of you had provided during the interview when the article was published. He had pitted the Stars Rebellion against Midnight Sun, when in your opinion, both bands sounded nothing like each other and he was just doing it to stir up sensationalist shit. In addition to that, he spent most of the article writing about your looks and sex appeal, as opposed to the actual music.

To be fair, that was part of your showmanship, but it seemed like yet another case of sexism in the industry, where other male vocalists weren’t subject to the same fate as you and the handful of frontwomen, who still cut their teeth and pushed forward.

“Great,” you whined, burying your face in your hands. “Now, not only have we become an even bigger rival of Midnight Sun, he’s got people wondering if I can actually sing at all!”

Leon seemed amused by your mini outburst, but was otherwise unruffled by the comments in the article. “That’s what journalists do.” He shrugged. “Create fucking bullshit and drama. What’s new?”

He turned over to face you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it briefly before letting it go. “You’re insanely talented, you know that. Don’t listen to them.”

You smiled at his affirmation. The past months had flown by in a blur, and along with it, your bond with Leon had strengthened. You were the very definition of fast friends, having discovered many similar interests and common topics of conversation between the two of you. Although he still made the occasional off-putting remark, and was a bit of an attention-seeker, especially among the ladies, you enjoyed the time spent with him. It felt like you could be yourself and could talk to each other about anything without judgment.

Judgment. That word aroused conflicting feelings within you. On the one hand, being on stage felt freeing and you could do so many things there that would’ve been considered shameful in any other public situation. It was as though you could ignore the judgment or were immune to it. Yet, when it was time to return to the ‘normal world’, judgment haunted you wherever you went.

“Got a question though.” Leon grinned, and you knew he was coming up with another one of his pesky jokes again. “Can you sing?”

You whacked his chest as he howled with laughter. “Alright, come on, look. We’ll do it together, ok?” He whipped out his phone again, tapping on his music playlist. “I just wanna hear you sing something softer, please?”

Sighing in exasperation, you gave in to his curiosity, clearing your throat as you exposed the falsetto that you’d been hiding all this while in the city you’d run off to for college. Leon joined you on the backing vocals as you flowed through the song together, while you tried to ignore his gaze which lowered at your lips, seemingly entranced by what he was listening to. A blush crept up along your neck as the song ended.

“Didn’t realize you had that side to you,” he muttered in astonishment. “Where did you-”

“Church choir,” you uttered abruptly, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

“Oh.” That seemed to surprise him even more. “Didn’t take you as the religious kind.”

“I’m not.” You swallowed thickly, looking away.

“Your parents-”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” you hissed through gritted teeth, a little harsher than intended.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He cut himself off, before sharing about his background instead. “My parents were kind of shitheads too. Well, mostly my old man.” There was another pause, as he shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Liked the bottle a bit too much.”

“I’m sorry.” You placed your hand over his, as he brushed his thumb over your knuckles.

“Don’t be. The band’s our family now.” He shifted himself up to his elbows, kicking mud off his boots. “Anyway, we don’t have to talk about your folks if you want.”

You softened up at this, realizing that he still had your best interests at heart, though a part of you felt like divulging what you had kept to yourself for so long. “It’s embarrassing,” you began. “Singing like that, kinda reminds me of the past I wanted to leave behind.”

Twiddling your fingers anxiously, you continued. “My parents were very into that whole religious thing. You could say it was almost cult-like,” you laughed nervously. “It wasn’t what I wanted to be, so I got out of it.”

Frowning, you pursed your lips as a vague memory of leaving your hometown amid a heated argument and tears came to mind. “Haven’t spoken to them in years. Probably disowned by them by now.”

“Their loss,” he replied sharply, staring you dead in the eye.

It wasn’t something you had expected to slip out of Leon’s mouth, but he had articulated it so transparently. You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“You could’ve been a great televangelist,” he joked, and you chuckled along with him, finding humor in the otherwise unpleasant subject.

“It’s too bad, isn’t it?” You took a swig of the vodka bottle he offered you, wincing as the smooth liquid burned its way down your throat. “You know, when I’m up there performing, it feels like I can be whoever I want to be.”

“You can be whoever you want with me,” he spoke softly. You tried to search for any disingenuity in his eyes, but found none. “I like you all the same.”

“I like you too,” you professed, only to contort your face in horror a split second later, as you realized the implications of what you had just said. “Uh, I mean, not like that,” you sputtered helplessly. “You know, like-”

He rolled his eyes and snickered. “C’mere.” Tugging at your hand, he pulled you in close, giving you a solid hug. 

Gingerly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, inhaling deeply and relaxing in his embrace. Both of you carried a mild scent of alcohol, but you didn’t care. You were just happy to find a like-minded soul who saw you for who you were, as you did with him.

A random thought popped up in your head that you wanted to run by him that instant. It gnawed at your chest, waiting to escape. “Leon?”

“Mm?” You could feel him nuzzling your neck and wondered if he had gone past being tipsy.

“What do you think about writing a softer song? Like something more emotive,” you explained.

He still didn’t let you go. “I think that sounds great,” he murmured into your ear. “We’ll write it together.”

“Just you and me, us against the world,” he added wistfully.

You wondered what had gotten into him, but the idea of working on this creative project together felt right to you. Like a link in the thread of fate that was meant to happen.

“Us against the world,” you repeated, sealing your fate, as you felt his smile against your skin.

━━━━━━━━━━━

On a hot, sunny afternoon, you were grabbing milkshakes with Claire, before heading over to the skatepark, where another friend of hers, Steve, was trying out a couple of new tricks. He had a slender build and spiky red hair, with a punk aesthetic. In other words, the perfect skater boy. You were pretty sure he had a crush on Claire, but she seemed to be either oblivious or ignored it outright. Whenever he landed a cool trick, he’d look over at Claire for approval, only for her to give him a friendly thumbs up. 

While you sat by the benches, Claire turned towards you, wiggling her eyebrows as she commented, “You and Leon have been hanging out a lot together lately.”

“Uh huh.” You tried to appear nonchalant about it, as you sipped on your milkshake guardedly.

Truth be told, the increasing amount of time spent with Leon was causing certain inconvenient feelings to grow within you. You lied to yourself, claiming you saw him as nothing more than a friend. Falling for a lovable asshole was out of the question, especially one who might break your heart. Yet, the day where both of you drank in the park, accepting each other in ways you never thought possible, constantly replayed in your mind. Then there was the song you were working on together, the late-night calls, and the pick-me-ups for days when either of you needed support. He would drop everything to help you, and you were there when he sought comfort.

Each time you saw him flirting with one of the female fans or exchanging coy looks with Ada, you died a little inside. He was just a horny 23-year-old guy chasing after anyone with legs - at least, that's what you tried to convince yourself. So, you stayed silent about the whole affair, holding back how you really felt about him, in order to preserve your friendship.

“Anything going on between you two?” Claire asked casually.

What else could you expect from a final-year Communications major? Of course, she would have picked up on how weird you’ve been acting lately.

Still, you continued fighting a losing battle. “We’re just friends,” you asserted, poking absentmindedly at the leftover froth and cream in your drink with the straw.

She wasn’t having it though. “The question is, do you want it to stay that way?” Checkmate. You could almost see her gloating at you as you froze.

You shook your head, sighing defeatedly. “It doesn’t matter, he’s into other girls anyway.”

“Have you told him?” Crap, she got you there again.

You just gave her a noncommittal shrug.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you.” She set her drink down with an air of determination, as if she meant business. “In all my sad years of knowing that loser, he’s never behaved this way with a girl like you. Maybe he just needs a little push to see that.” Folding her arms, she cocked her head to the side. “You should tell him.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You sucked up the rest of your drink until there was nothing more than the bubbly, gurgling sound of air and drops of fluid. With a mischievous twist of your mouth, you added, “By the way, you should probably tell Steve you’re not interested.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When you had finally plucked up the courage to try and tell Leon about your true feelings, things didn’t go exactly as planned. For starters, he had been rather distracted about the upcoming music festival that your band would be participating in and specifically, a promo event that was tied to it. It was all he wanted to talk about, so you couldn’t get a word in.

“It’ll be the perfect opportunity to get noticed,” he pleaded. “You have to go!”

“I’m not- I don’t do very well in these types of social situations,” you argued. “You know that.”

“Excuses,” he huffed dismissively. “It’s gonna be fun, come on.”

“Chris and Claire will be there with you,” you countered again.

Placing his hands on your shoulders, he declared, “No, I want you.”

Although you knew he didn’t mean it any other way, your cheeks flushed as you turned your head away, heart throbbing at the innocuous statement he had just uttered.

“I’ll be there beside you, the whole time,” he promised. “Please, just come along?”

Biting your lip, you weighed your options, even though your emotions had already gotten the better of you, and you had made your decision regardless of what he might say. “You swear?”

“Cross my heart.”

Unfortunately, you wish you had never agreed to him in the first place, because 24 hours later, you were singing an entirely different tune.

Leon had picked you up and headed over to the event with you as arranged. It was held at a swanky members-only club with a lot of pomp, ass-kissing and too much champagne. You felt completely out of place there, but tagged along like a lost puppy behind Leon, who was reveling in the publicity and getting to know who’s who. A number of the other festival bands were there, but you weren’t particularly close to them beyond a courteous ‘Hello’. You fiddled with the cocktail that Leon had got you, praying that the Redfield siblings would show up sometime soon.

At some point, Leon caught your attention, every so often looking over his shoulder for something, or someone. “I, uh, I need to head to the restroom.”

You nodded in puzzlement, wondering why he seemed so shifty all of a sudden.

“Cool, um, I’ll make it quick.” He gave you a sheepish smile and a wink before heading off hurriedly.

He looked even apologetic? You shrugged off that thought, nursing the lone drink in your hands as you thumbed the fabric of your silvery playsuit. After a while, you checked the time on your phone. A good ten minutes had passed, but he hadn’t returned. Weird, did something happen to him?

As you continued waiting, it started to dawn on you how oppressive and suffocating the atmosphere was. It reminded you of the times when you were surrounded by the rest of the community you’d grown up with in church, scrutinizing your every move. Cold sweat formed on your palms as your breathing grew rapid and shallow. A sense of dread developed within you as your vision narrowed.

Oh god, oh god, not here, no… You latched onto the wall for support, trying to apply the tactics you usually used to calm yourself down.

“Hey there!” Claire’s upbeat voice pierced through the downward spiral you had nearly been consumed by. “Where’s Leon?”

“Um, he went to the rest-”

“What the fuck.” Claire’s jaw dropped wide open and when you followed her line of sight, you understood why.

From afar, you spotted Leon and Ada in tow, sneakily heading out of the restrooms. Bold red lipstick was smudged across Leon’s face as he wiped away at it furiously, and his pants remained unzipped, like an afterthought. Ada combed through her ruffled hair with her fingers, adjusting the bottom of her figure-hugging dress. There were no guesses as to what had occurred there. Your mouth ran dry.

“That fucking-” Claire growled. “Ugh, I’m gonna wring his neck!”

“Claire, it’s okay.” You tried to placate her, but your voice was quivering.

She turned towards you, eyeing you sympathetically as she rubbed your back. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “Well, Chris is getting some drinks. Let’s go join him?”

You accepted, making your way towards the refreshments table, still mulling over what you had just seen. As you picked up a glass of sparkling wine, Claire relayed the entire scenario over to Chris, who just shook his head disapprovingly.

A few moments later, Leon had stumbled upon your group. “Where’ve you been? I was looking all over for you!” He barked, visibly frustrated at your disappearance.

Claire scoffed, and without another word, bumped against his shoulder as she brushed past him. Chris followed suit, without the bumping, though he made a face at Leon as he chugged down his beer. They expected you to come along, but you hung back, giving Leon one more chance to redeem himself.

“What’s up with those two?” he muttered in annoyance.

You held his gaze impassively. “What took you so long?”

“Is this a trick question or what?” He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he tried to evade your quizzing.

But you didn’t let up, not budging from your place until you had an answer.

He threw his hands up in exasperation. “There was a queue, okay?”

A rush of disappointment and heartache surged through you. The least he could’ve done was to be honest with you, but he hadn’t even managed that. He was lying directly to your face, which currently felt as if it had been given a tight slap in humiliation. With whatever dignity you had left, you excused yourself from the table, heading over to the Redfield siblings, as Leon looked on in incredulity and disbelief.

You spent the rest of the evening with Chris and Claire, who were mostly interested in the free food and drink, and knew a couple of the chiller, more down-to-earth musicians on a personal level. In an unexpected turnaround of events, you were actually having fun chatting with people who appeared to be on the same wavelength as you and making wisecracks about corporate functions like these.

In fact, it served as a fairly effective distraction from the boy you were pretending didn’t exist. He lurked around like a shadow, leaning against the walls in the corridors and the sides of the rooms. You saw him everywhere, hovering just within reach. Scowling moodily at you and your newfound friends, he tossed back a never ending supply of alcoholic drinks. You suspected he was on the verge of getting sloshed by now, and although a part of you was concerned about his well-being, you didn’t want to play the role of a babysitter, at least not for tonight.

Towards the end of the night, Chris and Claire had decided to take their leave and you would too, after getting some fresh air by the pool. However, this proved to be a mistake, as the minute you were left alone, you heard heavy footsteps shuffling up next to you. You felt a pit in your stomach, knowing well who it was before even facing the culprit.

“What did I do wrong?” Leon was slurring his words, and his eyes were glassy and bloodshot. The stench of alcohol on him was overwhelming.

Wrinkling your nose, you backed away, stating plainly, “You’re drunk, just take a cab home.”

“Don’t-” He grabbed your arm, attempting to steady himself. “Don’t walk away from me.”

“Leon,” you warned.

“What happened to us against the world, huh?” he retorted.

“Did you think about that when you ditched me to fuck around?” The accusation tumbled out of your mouth before you had a chance to rein it in.

His grip on you loosened, as guilt flashed across his eyes. “That- I, it wasn’t-”

“You’ve always been a bit of an asshole,” you interjected. “But a loveable one, who was also sweet and kind.” Tears started to collect at the corners of your eyes. “Now, you’re just completely horrible,” you spat, with a look of disgust plastered across your face.

Leon’s face contorted in anguish as he tightened his hold on your arm again. “Don’t say that.”

“I don’t like you like this,” you admitted, trying to break free from his grasp, as tears started to roll down your cheeks.

He tried to reach out with his other hand and caress your face, but you pushed it away. “Let go,” you demanded.

However, it seemed as if he couldn’t comprehend why you wanted to be as far away from him as possible. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “Can’t we just sort this-”

Then, something in you snapped. All the times when you had finally had enough and set your boundaries in the past, burning bridges along the way, came to a head. “No!” you yelled, shoving him off you, as he fell backwards and landed into the pool with a loud splash.

Some of the spectators laughed and jeered, as he floundered around mostly in shock, while you stormed off the site.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next band practice session was awkward to say the least. You were running a few minutes late and when you’d reached, you could hear the shouting from outside the door to the studio.

“... sleeping with the enemy!”

“How is Ada an enemy?”

“You’re always messing things up for us!”

“Okay, break it up you two.”

Expelling a hefty sigh, you swung the door open, and the room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. You could feel their gaze on you as you placed your bag in the corner before getting to your usual position behind the mic, making sure to avoid any eye contact with Leon. The festival was coming up in the next month, and on top of that, you still had a smaller gig to play in between then. The last thing you wanted was for personal issues to get in the way of professionalism, so you buried your emotions deep within the abyss.

“Hey, um, you, uh-” Leon croaked out, trying to get your attention, but you ignored him, turning instead towards Claire.

“Sorry I’m late, shall we get started?”

Despite regarding you with a look of concern, she obliged and Chris counted off before all of you jammed to the opening song.

It continued on like this, where you gave Leon the cold shoulder. You had stopped hanging out with him and only communicated when necessary. He didn’t realize how much he would miss your company until it was gone. Things felt duller and emptier without you. Whenever he wanted to share his joys, sorrows and just the mundane things that were happening in his life, he’d try to call you, only for it to go unanswered. He left you countless voice messages, each more desperate than the last one, ranging from a mixture of hurt, blame and grief. It had only been a little over two weeks, but he was starved and alone, without the person he could truly count on. The song you had been working on together remained unfinished.

During the smaller gig you were playing at, you rocked out with Chris and Claire near the back, instead of vibing with Leon at the front. Maybe you were being petty with the way you were treating Leon, but he hadn’t given you a proper apology since the incident. The chemistry and connection between the two of you on stage was lost. Nonetheless, you gave the performance your all, and the fans went wild, so much so that when you crowd surfed, you ended up with shredded leggings and a bloody mouth. A random fan tried to grope you, but security intervened and you were dragged back up on stage by Leon, whose eyes were clouded with worry and apprehension. However, the adrenaline numbed the pain and you finished the gig on a high note, leaving the crowd buzzing with exhilaration and the sound of thunderous applause. It was a confidence booster and a great way to warm up for the festival gig.

Backstage, Claire helped you with cleaning the cut on your lip, as you reassured her that you were fine and such injuries were inevitable when you threw yourself headfirst into the crowd. She made you promise not to pull that stunt again, at least for the foreseeable future, before leaving you to finish up.

Just as you were heading out to regroup, an older, bearded man with neatly styled, graying hair and donning a snazzy waistcoat approached you.

“Brian Irons.” 

He held out a sleek, matte finish card with a crisp white background, his name in bold, black font in the center. Below, in smaller, elegant sans-serif type, were the record label he managed and his contact details. A thin, silver border surrounded the edges of the card adding a touch of sophistication. You took it from him, rapt by the design.

“Shall we speak somewhere in private?” he offered, beckoning towards one of the empty dressing rooms towards the end of the hallway.

In your elation and unwillingness to turn down such a timely opportunity, you jumped the gun, accepting his request immediately without waiting for your bandmates. Instead, you messaged them the details and informed them you would join them soon after.

“Amazing show,” he complimented. “You really are quite stunning.”

“Thanks, um, Mr. Irons.” You shifted your weight between both feet nervously, unsure of how to respond. Something in the way he looked at you made you seem like a prey caught in a bear’s trap and his words felt loaded.

“For you, it’s Brian, honey.” His lecherous tone sent shivers down your spine.

“Brian,” you echoed, slowly backing away to put some distance between you and the man.

“So, you kids wanna get signed, huh? Stars Rebellion, wasn’t it?” He advanced towards you with deliberate, measured steps, as if he were playing with his food at the dinner table.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, regretting the decision you had made earlier and the direction this conversation seemed to be steering in.

“Well, I can certainly help with that…” 

Your back was flat against the wall now, as he sidled up to you, eliminating any space between you as he caged you in with his body. His breath felt hot and heavy against your cheek, and reeked of coffee and cigarettes. As his hand rode up your thigh, you closed your eyes, holding your breath as a nauseating wave crashed over you and you tried not to puke.

“The fuck’s going on here?” A sharp, biting voice sliced through the air like a knife.

Brian pulled away and you saw Leon by the doorway of the dressing room seething with fury and a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Hey, easy there, kid. Just getting acquainted, that’s all.” Brian tried to laugh it off as a joke, but Leon wasn’t having any of it.

“Get away from her,” he ordered, his steely demeanor unrelenting. “Now.”

Brian backed off, but came up to Leon threateningly. “Talking back to me like that?” he sneered. “I’ll make sure you’re ruined, punk.”

Leon took a step closer, issuing an unspoken challenge. “Yeah? Go ahead, sue me.”

At this, Brian cocked his fist back before taking a swing at Leon. Leon ducked to avoid the blow, shoving him aside as he unleashed a quick jab which connected with Brian’s nose. Brian fell to the ground, whimpering in pain while covering his face with both hands. Blood trickled down, staining his shirt as he cowered before Leon.

“Touch her again and I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Leon hollered. “You hear me?”

Brian nodded furiously as Leon walked briskly across the room, wrapping his arm around your shoulder before leading you out with him. Once you were at a safe distance, he cupped your face in his palms, examining you for any further signs of injuries.

“You okay? Did he hurt you?”

You didn’t respond, instead you clung to him in a tight embrace as your body trembled uncontrollably. He held you against his chest, resting his chin on your head as he stroked your hair soothingly. Both of you stayed there for a while, locked in each other's arms, until he suggested, “Let’s get you home.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When Leon had informed Chris and Claire about the events that had transpired, they vowed to keep a closer watch on you and each other. There was now an agreement that if the whole band could not be present at a meeting, then at least two people at the minimum should be there.

Your band had upped the intensity of the practice sessions, as the date of the festival loomed nearer. However, when Jill spontaneously announced that she was organizing a house party at her place, all of you jumped at the invitation, seeing it as a way to let off some steam.

At the moment, you and Leon were in this weird, intermediary state of being not quite friends, yet not quite on opposing ends either. It seemed as if it was eating away at him inside, since the minute he saw you at Jill’s place, he weaved through the throng of familiar faces and approached you, asking if you were ready to talk about the elephant in the room. It wasn’t possible to keep ignoring him forever and you were tired of all the arguments and drama that had occurred lately. So, you decided to let him into your life again, or maybe just a foot in the door for now.

In one of the quieter rooms of the house, you sat beside Leon as he initiated an apology for the first time for his prior actions. “I know it’s not enough, but I’m sorry, I really am.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “I was a complete dick-”

“Yeah, you were,” you replied testily. “I panicked, when you, um, took your time.”

“What? Shit.” He looked down at his hands in shame, balling them into fists. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want that to happen to you.” 

Clenching his jaw, you saw him drown in a sense of self-loathing. “God, I keep fucking things up. Please-” He took your hands in his, squeezing them as if he were proposing. “I’ll make it up to you, just give me another chance to prove it.”

“I missed you,” he whispered. “A lot.” It was as if a dam had broken, and he couldn't stop himself from pouring out all his admissions. “You weren’t talking to me, you weren’t returning my calls…”

“Whenever something stupid came up, all I could think about was how much I wanted to tell you about it.” His eyes glazed over, as if he were recalling a distant memory. “Guess I kinda took you for granted.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you made yet another decision against your better judgment. Although you had no guarantee that he would not repeat the same mistake, you placed your trust in him again, hoping that this time he would treat you as you deserved. 

“Okay.” You nodded, offering a weak smile. “We’ll try again.”

You yelped as he suddenly gathered you into a snug embrace, grinning widely from ear to ear. “I got you back,” he murmured into your ear.

“Don’t make me regret it,” you teased half-jokingly.

“Guys, get your free shit! Oh-” 

You and Leon quickly disentangled yourselves from each other as you saw Jill staring with her mouth hanging open. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No!” Both of you exclaimed in unison.

Jill rolled her eyes, her face etched with doubt, though she didn’t probe further. “Anyway, downstairs! First come, first served.” She jerked her thumb in the direction behind her, before trudging off to the next room.

“You wanna?” Leon gave you a knowing smile.

“Hell, sure, why not?” You shrugged, once again erupting in laughter with the boy you wanted to cuddle with and strangle at the same time.

So, that was how both of you ended up lying next to each other, strung out on a mattress facing the window. You knew the drill. Jill’s housemates were creative types whose generosity knew no bounds. House parties with them involved usually meant a certain supply of free drugs, which people could choose to engage in recreationally. You figured you were being very rock’n’roll by doing it, but sometimes you enjoyed how open they made you feel, like you could loosen up and forget about the things bothering you.

As usual, you and Leon had taken the same pills as before, both of you agreeing to take care of each other throughout the duration of the high. He held your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, as you giggled over a topic you had been discussing.

“Ready to watch the curtain breathing contest?” he chuckled.

“There.” You pointed in front of you, indicating that the shades were now moving on their own, like ripples in the tide.

“Atta girl.”

It felt nice like this, laying beside him. You could talk to him about anything in the world and he’d listen intently to you. That’s when you thought it was a good idea to make your confession. 

“I’ve liked you for a while now,” you gulped, your heart constricting though the urge to reveal your secret was stronger. “As in, more than a friend.”

He angled his head towards you, gazing at your expression with an affectionate smile. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Leon Scott Kennedy, asking me why-?” you snorted, clamping your free hand over your mouth as you struggled to hold in your cackles. As if he wasn’t aware he had a reputation for sleeping around with no strings attached. “I didn’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost.”

He tutted and sighed. “You wouldn’t have been. It’s different… with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re one of the few people who’d tell me exactly as it is, you care to listen,” he explained. “It just feels right, being with you, and… I trust you.”

You were reluctant to take what he had said at face value, after all both of you were tripping. As if sensing your hesitance, he professed, “I like you too, a lot.”

Still, a part of you denied it. “You’re just saying that.”

He groaned in vexation. “Am not.”

“Are too.”

Narrowing his eyes at you, he huffed in defeat, “Look, ask me again tomorrow when we’re sober, okay? Pretty sure I’ll say the exact same thing.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “You better not try anything right now though, ’cause I bite.” Baring your teeth, you snarled at him playfully.

“Uh huh.” He burst out laughing. “You’re kinda high off your face, aren’t you?”

“Just a little.” You winked.

“Alright, let’s try to get some sleep,” he grunted, shifting to his side as he extended his arms towards you like an invitation. “No funny business,” he promised.

You relented, nestling yourself into his arms with your back against his chest. He dipped his nose into your hair, breathing in the peace of the moment. Closing your eyes, you drifted off to sleep, your bodies spooned together in perfect symmetry.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The first rays of the morning light filtered in through the curtains, as you awoke to the collective chirps of the dawn chorus. You squinted, pressing a palm over your eyes to shield yourself from the sun, as you stretched yourself out against Leon’s sleeping body and yawned groggily. He stirred a bit from your movement, but easily fell back into slumber, snoring deeply. You remembered everything you had disclosed to him the night before and it scared you. What if he didn’t feel the same way when he woke up? What if it had all been a mistake? How would you be able to look him in the eye now? You felt anxiety rising in your chest.

Stealthily, you lifted his arm off you, creeping out of the bed and making your escape before you had to face the consequences of your actions. Grabbing your stuff, you snuck out of the room, tiptoeing so no one noticed you exiting the front door of the house.

It was about an hour later when Leon woke up, confused to find you missing from the mattress with him. Though in your rush, you had accidentally left behind your notebook, which you carried around with you everywhere to jot down inspiration for song lyrics. Picking up the chestnut brown, leatherbound journal, curiosity got the better of him as he flipped it open to the page you had bookmarked.

As he skimmed across the words you had scribbled down in your off-beat, cursive handwriting, he gradually realized that they were the draft lyrics to the song you had been previously working on together with him, before the temporary break in your friendship. He re-read the text again to catch the meaning between the lines. It was then that it struck him, you had essentially composed a love letter from within, expressing the depth of your feelings and yearning for him. It made his heart ache that you had been keeping this from him the whole time and he had been blind to it all.

Tapping your name on his mobile screen, he called you right away, but it went straight to voicemail. Fuck. What were you afraid of? He thought he had been clear in how he felt about you last night, but it seemed like you had gone into hiding again. 

Showing up at your place directly after this may cause you to retreat even further, but he was determined to win you over somehow. A plan began to hatch in his mind, as he drove home with your book in the passenger seat. Despite his exhaustion from the party, he set out to work on the music for the lyrics you had written, spending the rest of the day and even pulling an all-nighter to finish it.

After about a dozen energy drinks and cups of coffee, he marched up unannounced to the door of your dormitory, where you shared a room with another final-year student from your class, rapping on it several times for good measure. Your roommate opened the door, but her expression gave everything away before she had the chance to concoct any sort of tall tale. She could never really keep a poker face.

Placing his arm against the door to prevent it from closing on him, he called out your name. You appeared in his view then timidly, mumbling to your roommate that you would handle it. She packed up a few things and left, giving you and Leon some privacy.

“Your book.” He passed it over to you, before setting his guitar case down by your bed. “Open it.”

You glanced briefly at him in mild bewilderment, but did as he asked. It flopped open to a page with a deep crease in the center, naturally showing how frequently that section had been revisited. You gasped when you saw a bunch of chord notes written below the lyrics you had penned down from earlier. Your complexion turned a light shade of scarlet upon realizing that Leon had discovered your innermost thoughts, but there was no awkwardness in his behavior towards you, he was calm and collected.

Unzipping the case, he took out his acoustic guitar and perched himself on the edge of your bed. Resting the instrument on his thigh, he grasped its neck, tilting it slightly as he strummed a couple of opening chords.

“I pieced together the melody for this. Maybe you can join in when you’re comfortable,” he suggested.

It seemed he had memorized the entire song by heart, as he didn’t need your notebook for guidance. His mellow, honeyed voice cascaded through the room as he serenaded you with the song both of you had crafted, albeit separately. Now, you were coming together to bring it to life.

Seating yourself next to him, you harmonized with his vocals, pouring the entirety of your emotions and every moment of longing you had built up within you into the music, until the final note trailed off. Throughout it all, Leon had observed you closely, captivated by the raw, unfiltered quality of your voice and the vulnerability you displayed in your delivery of the lyrics.

His gaze lowered from your eyes to your mouth, as he leaned in, brushing his lips gently against yours, kissing you tenderly. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he caressed it, coaxing soft sighs and moans which he returned as you reciprocated the kiss. Panting as he came up for air, he traced your bottom lip with his thumb, feeling every dip and groove, as if mesmerized by its outline and shape. He didn’t need to utter a single word for you to understand that his feelings for you mirrored those you had confessed in the song.

Closing the distance, he pressed into your lips again, this time more fervently, as the kisses grew in intensity. His nose nudged against yours and you felt his warm breath tickling your skin, as he grasped the back of your neck, taking you deeper, breathing every essence of you in. Clutching his shoulders, you parted your lips slightly as he licked along the entrance, allowing his tongue to meet yours, twirling around it as saliva coated your lips, forming a glistening string between the two of you when you pulled away.

Grazing his knuckles delicately across your cheek, he asked, “Do you believe me now?”

You smiled, claiming his lips with your own in response.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next time you performed the song live was at the festival, where thousands had gathered to watch the impressive lineup of bands. Chris and Claire had fallen in love with it when you and Leon had showed it to them, and were keen to expand the band’s range into something that delved into the territory of rock ballads.

All four of you wondered how it would be received by the audience, as it was rather different from the punk rock style your band was known for. Even so, you were psyched to finally showcase it to the public.

It was the song you ended with on your setlist, and the one which created such a poignant, special atmosphere, that it became a memory you would treasure forever. The hall fell into hushed anticipation as Leon plucked his guitar strings under the soft glow of the stage lights. Each note resonated deeply, minimalistic and stripped back, which added to the earnesty of the music.

Your voice opened the duet, intimate and haunting, as the melody unfolded like a story being told, rich with longing and a melancholic beauty that ached. The audience stood there entranced, as a soulful rhythm built up with the entry of the bass guitar and drums, adding another layer to the sound.

Leon moved towards you, sharing your mic as he sang his part, cementing a bond between you. Locking eyes with you, he pressed his forehead against yours, mingling sweat and tears as you both continued singing into the same mic, your heartfelt lyrics heavy with emotion. Some of the older people in the crowd sparked their lighters, while the younger ones whipped out their mobile phones, swaying them in time to the music, until everything was awash in a sea of flickering lights.

Your lips and Leon’s were barely touching as the last notes lingered in the air. His faint breath fanned across your mouth, as he swept his fingertips along your jawline, resting them under your chin. The space was thick with palpable tension, and your stomach fluttered just as it had the first time he had kissed you. Like a magnetic pull which he could not resist, he placed his lips over yours, kissing you again and again. It was as if the world had paused, just for the two of you. 

Singing this way no longer reminded you of punishment and shame, but rather of the connection you and Leon had. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he led you off-stage, past the phenomenal reaction of the crowd and the fist bumps shared between Chris and Claire.

Ada came around not only to congratulate him, but also to test the waters and seize the opportunity to flirt. Despite that, he held onto you tightly, maintaining a suitable distance from the woman he had previously been infatuated with, yet feeling nothing deeper compared to what he felt for you. It took him more than half a year, an explosive fallout and a few weeks of your absence to realize that. She smirked and shook her head, walking away as Wesker continued to ignore you.

Some things never change, yet some things had.

“How about some time alone?” he proposed. “Just us.”

Us. It was always meant to be about us.

You nuzzled your nose gently with his. “Yeah, just us.”

[najenvhs]

who's most likely to get jealous and why?

nct dream getting jealous

sorry decided to make this for everyone because it is too good- but the top 3 would be Jisung, Haechan, and Jeno…. Anyway 🤍 sorry some are longer than others, everything is what came to my mind first.

mdi 🤍

♡ Jisung— you guys were out for a coffee date and while the two of you guys were sitting a friend from school came up. you were shocked so you stood up and gave him a hug.

Jisung watched as his hands were all over you going up and down your back and when he detached, he was still close talking and looking straight into your eyes, as he was holding your hands.

he knows you guys are just friends but this was time for the two of you and the two of you only. he just sat there getting annoyed as the conversation went on for 5 minutes till you finally sat down.

“what's wrong?” you ask confused but still riding off the high of running into an old friend.

“What, nothing… nothing at all” he responded taking a sip from his drink and looking away from you.

“Oh, I see” you replied crossing your arms and leaning back in your seat, “your jealousy huh?”

he starts chocking on his drink, coughing “What are you- no of course not”

“Sure, I guess you're not getting your surprise tonight,” you said leaning forward and looking at your nails

“y/n I said I'm sorry,” he said pleading with you.

♡ chenle— “I'm going out tonight,” you say to chenle as you guys are eating dinner at the table inside his apartment.

“oh with the girls?” he asks taking another bite of his food.

“well.. yes” you replied, you didn’t even know why you needed to tell him but you were scared if you didn’t say anything he would find out another way.

“What does well mean?” he asked raising a brow as he took a sip of his wine.

you just roll your eyes in response as you get up and go to start washing your dishes. “listen we are just paired for a project, and he was assigned to our group so we didn’t have a choice”

as you were cleaning and you heard him leave the table then felt some arms come around your stomach hugging you from behind.

“Just keep me updated,” he said in your ear as he started kissing your neck, you dropped the dishes into the sink that you were cleaning, it felt good, leaning your head over so that Chenle had even more access to your neck.

he starts rubbing one of his hands over your stomach as his other starts crawling up your chest, just then you realize what was happening, waking yourself up you made him stop by pushing him off you in a soft manner.

“what? What's wrong?” he asks wiping his lips off with the back of his hand.

“Are you jealous?” you ask pointing at him leaning against the sink

the only response he has is having his eyes wide open feeling caught making you giggle.

“no” he finally says.

“Whatever you say” you laugh as you walk past him patting his shoulder.

♡ Jaemin— “Awe y/n” you look so beautiful tonight,” Mark says going in for a hug.

“Mark, thank you” you responded prettily, holding hands with him, thanking him. you guys talked a little bit more before you finally turned around to Jaemin standing right behind you.

“you look so pretty my princess, you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen on this earth” he gushed as he looked at you up and down.

you guys were at a reunion event and Jaemin’s close friends were there. you knew them well so Mark giving you compliments like that was nothing that you hadn’t heard before, and of course in a platonic way, and of course same as Jaemin in a romantic way. but it felt off and you could feel it.

“Thanks, babe,” you said smiling up at him.

it was until Renjun came up to you hugging you and kissing you on your check— again the norm for when interacting with him. “y/n i'm so happy to see you happy, you are just glowing”

he was always so sweet, “Junnie, thank you”

he walked away— you turn back around to Jaemin as he quickly shifted from looking like bloody Mary just walked across the room to the normal smiling nana he normally looks like.

“what,” you said crossing your arms

“yo-you look so sexy tonight,” he says changing the subject, swiftly moving to pull you closer to him.

“please stop talking to the boys,” he said with a smile on his face close to your own.

you knew what was going on, and you were shocked, Jaemin never gets jealous, and of all days he decides to get jealous of his friends. it was kinda silly to you that he would ever believe you would leave him.

“you know Nana,” you say reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck as his grip around your waist becomes tighter. “they are just friends,” you say in his ear

“I know” he replied removing his hands from your waist to start rubbing your back.

“well if you know so much, then you should know I don’t have a bra or underwear on tonight,” you said in his ear again.

you felt his hands stop, you could tell you shocked him so before you let go to continue saying hi to everyone else you left him with one last thing.

“if you don't stop acting jealous then I'm not coming home with you tonight”

♡ haechan— you and Haechan are lying in bed, the night before was long. you guys went to a party the boys threw for what reason? none, it was fun and ended with you and Haechan together in bed. In the morning you guys just hung out in bed till one of you got hungry.

you were on your phone looking at the photos you took last night and saw a photo of you and Jaemin where his face and yours were touching one another.

"Haechan, look at this photo I took with Jaemin isn't it cute," you said showing him the photo.

"oh, cute" he flashes a smile at you, then drops it instantly. you didn't think twice but maybe he was tired, so you went back on your phone.

you found a video and it was of you and Chenle taking shots, it was funny to you so you decided to show Haechan again.

"look watch this video of me and Chenle," you say scooting close to him in bed.

"funny" he smiles then shifts to move closer to the end of the bed.

"Okay, what's wrong," you ask dropping the phone and looking at him who is on his own.

"Nothing, I swear," he says looking at you.

"Haechan I've been dating you for years, tell me," you say crossing his arms.

"you taking pictures with another guy," he says quilty, under his breath.

"I'm sorry what?" you said looking over at him with your right ear facing him more so you could hear him clearly.

"you taking photos with Chenle and Jaemin," he says looking at you right in the eye

"so you jealous?" you ask but don't even give him the chance to say anything more before you start giggling. "Haechan, honey, I'm sitting here in bed with you, in your shirt and my panties only, yet you are jealous about me taking a photo with Jaemin and taking shots with Chenle?”

you guys just sat there in silence looking into each other's soul and before you could say anymore he broke the silence

"you know what no," he said dipping his head to kiss your cheek

"That's what I thought" you giggle again as you hold his head close to you.

♡ Jeno— it was after a three-hour lecture where you and your classmate were talking right outside the door, you knew him since high school so it was nice seeing a familiar face around campus.

you were leaning against the wall as your friend stood in front of you, you didn't think twice about it till you saw Jeno walking up but stopped midway for some reason. but you not knowing what's going on, had an even brighter smile on your face seeing him.

"Jeno-ah!" you called him over to where you and your friend were talking leaning ur body to where your whole side was leaning against the wall.

pushing yourself off of it, you walk over to Jeno dragging him over to meet your high school friend Jisung, "Jeno, this is Jisung, we went to high school together and were actually seated next to each other"

"Oh, hi, nice to meet you," Jeno said to Jisung sticking out his hand to shake.

Jeno made sure to squeeze Jisung's hand a little tighter to make sure he understood their ground making Jisung squill a little but laugh it off since he was in front of you.

you were off to the side looking at both of them, but even more at Jeno. he had a different demeanor and you could just tell something was up. the three of you continued taking a bit and when Jisung wasn't looking you would look at Jeno and mouth 'What's wrong with you' Getting back 'Nothing' in the same format right before Jisung turned his head back to the both of you.

"well, y/n, I'll see you on Wednesday for the next class, let's sit together again?" Jisung asked as he rested a hand on your shoulder.

"for sure!" you responded touching his hand while responding.

after that, he walked away and was faced with Jeno.

"what?" you asked raising an eyebrow.

"What was that?" Jeno responded.

"Well, like he said a friend from high school," you said, looking at him up and down. "what about you? what was that"

"I, you know what? I don't know," he says scratching his head.

"Lee Jeno, that was jealousy" You look up at him, and you drag him again by his arm. you lean against the wall again and pull him to where one of his arms resting on the wall beside you.

"y/n? at school?" he asks you as you undo one of the buttons of his shirt.

"there's no one around, and I mean we are just gonna kiss" You look up at him smiling.

"I'm confused? are you mad at me or?" he asks you.

"no I'm not mad at you, but you being jealous is really hot" you answered wrapping your arms around him going incating the kiss.

♡ renjun— "What," Renjun asks spitting out the water that was in his mouth.

"ah hahaha, someone tried to ask me out," you say blocking your face from the water even though you were nowhere near him.

he walked over to you, softly moving your hands away from your face, "Hopefully that wasn't to you and was for your friend you were with" he said smiling.

"No, I'm telling you he came up to me while I was away from my friend looking at clothing and asked if I was single," you respond.

renjun just looked at you blinking, "and what did you say"

"um no? Of course?" responded in shock you crossed your arms.

"anyways I thought it was kinda funny no need to be worried," you say as you try to walk away from the kitchen.

"y/n it's not funny, I mean like does this normally happen?" he asks you making you stop before leaving the kitchen.

"When you are around me never, and when you are not... sometimes," you say, "I never say yes, there's nothing to be jealous about"

"jealous?" Renjun askes.

"yes jun, jealousy!" you respond with a smirk on your face.

you walk close to him wrapping your arms around his neck and leaving a peck on his lips. "just know I love you so much, and there is no other guy I would choose over you"

he just smiled and hugged you back holding each other close and tight for a while.

♡ mark— "a concert?" marks asks you. you were invited by Haechan to go to a concert with him, and you said yes not thinking twice about how it may affect Mark.

"babe, it's Haechan, you've like known him forever, what's the problem?" you say shoving more chips in your mouth as you are sitting in the bed on the phone.

"Baby, that's the problem it's him," he says, as he's walking back and forth in front of the bed.

you didn't understand why it was such a big deal, you were fixing to put another chip in your mouth till you looked at Mark Lee going crazy which made you stop.

"oh" you abruptly say, "you're jealous"

Mark stops and turns to you who sit on the bed. you shove the chip back in the bag and leave your phone behind as you walk over on your knees to the end of the bed pulling him over by his arm.

"Markie, I love you so much you fool" you giggle, "I'll never love another man but you, but you don't need to worry about this and never think this again okay?"

"I'm sorry y/n," Mark says as he brushes some hair behind your ear and pulls you into a hug.

you end up pulling him on top of you, falling on your back, "now show me how much you love me, Mark Lee"

[hehe, I hope you guys enjoyed this sorry it took so long, I have just been a little busy and also have been cooking on this one FOR A MINUTE. I don't remember when this was asked but I'm sorry AND please enjoy. leave SOMETHING in my ask 🙈 ]

[inmyheaddd]

walkin’ out the door with your bags - grayson hawthorne x reader - part 3

⤷ “pardon my emotions, i should probably keep it all to myself”

wc: 3k summary: things are as normal as ever between you and grayson, and gigi comes up with a plan… a double date. a/n: sorry i’ve been SO SLOW with these updates 😭 i had to cut this in half because it was getting sooo long (the flashback will make a lot more sense in the next part lmao)

masterlist || series masterlist — other parts!

the past…

you and your class were on a trip to a planetarium of some sort.

you had just turned 9 and entered your astronomy phase - that never ended up fully leaving you - and were absolutely thrilled. you had a permanent smile on your face the whole day. 

it was now a break time, kids could spend their money on whatever they wanted; magnets, souvenirs, in the gift shop, and by far, the most popular choice: ice cream. 

“are you not going to get any?” you asked the boy sitting beside you on the bench, before bringing your plastic spoon to your little cup, and then to your mouth again. 

grayson barely looked at you, “no.”

“why? this ice cream is so good.”

he looked at the rocket keychain he held in his hand. he told you earlier he’d bought it for his youngest brother, xander.

“i’m not hungry.” he said flatly.

“yes you are, i can see it on your face hawthorne!” you pointed a finger at him, “you want ice cream sooooo bad it hurts, but you’re too scared of acting normal.”

“no i don’t,” he said, “and i am not afraid.”

“sure you are,” you said with an overenthusiastic nod, taking another bite of your ice cream.

grayson eyed you, “are you insinuating i’m not normal?”

you giggled, “yeah, because you don’t like ice cream. that, or you pretend to not like it. both are super weird.”

he furrowed his brows at you, absentmindedly twirling the keychain around his fingers. “…what if i simply haven’t had it before?”

your jaw almost dropped. there was no way that was just a hypothetical question. 

“you’ve never had ice cream?” you exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise. when he didn’t respond, you continued. “woah, grayson. that’s actually kind of sad…” as your best friend it’s my duty to get you to try all the best flavors one day— and trust me, there’s a lot.” 

“i’m perfectly fine without ice cream in my life.” he retorted, quite snappily too. “and without cavities. i’ve seen my brothers get a tooth extracted … it does not look pleasant, to say the least.”  

you took another bite of your ice cream, “what’s life without a little risk— or too much sugar?”

he eyed you, “less trips to the dentist.” 

the present…

it had been a few weeks since that hawthorne event, and things were back to normal with you and grayson. no more awkwardness, no more almost confessions, just you and your best friend.

you found yourself outside grayson's house, tapping your foot impatiently after ringing the doorbell twice.

you

— hello — bro — i’m outside  — no one’s opening the door — are you leaving me on seen?? 

you waited a moment, seriously debating whether to go home or not as you glanced  at your phone, watching the bubbles form and disappear.

grumpy blonde 👎

— No.

you

— …is this because i called you bro — sorry — sorry grayson davenport hawthorne***

*grumpy blonde 👎 reacted 👎🏻 to your message* 

how fitting.

grumpy blonde 👎

— Do you not have a key? I had one made for you months ago.

you

— oh — well — i kinda lost it

grumpy blonde 👎

— I’ll have a new one made soon.  — I’ll be down now, apologies for the wait.

you

— aw — it’s ok oren just let me in — i think he feels bad for me LMAO 

when the door finally clicked open, you barely took 3 step before you heard the front door shut close. the coldness of the house immediately hit you. 

why was it always freezing in this place?

grayson came down within 10 seconds of your arrival, and 10 minutes later, you were sitting on his bed as he organized the new suits he had bought earlier that day. 

so that’s why he was taking so long. 

now, you just finished explaining the long winded plan you and gigi had been planning for a week now. 

it sounded his worst nightmare. 

you loved it.

“so… yeah. what do you think?” you asked, a coy smile on your face as grayson turned to look at you.

“you came all the way here to ask me to ask me this?” there it was: the eyebrow arch.

“well, if i called you or asked over text you’d just say no.” you shrugged, “but in person i can just annoy you until you say yes.” 

“i’m not going on a double date.” of course he was going to say that. “nonetheless with gigi and noah.”

you sighed frustratedly, nearly falling back on his bed. “but why? it’s all friendly and platonic, and he’s actually so nice! i’ve even talked to him a little and—“

he quit reorganizing his suits and swiftly turned his head around to look at you. “when have you spoken to him?” 

you laughed nervously at his intense gaze, “chill,” you said, “he just drops gigi off at our door sometimes, or waits outside if she’s about to come out.”

“i do some subtle interrogations of my own for your information, hawthorne,” you continued, your voice a little quieter, more meaningful. “youre not the only one who cares about gigi, you know.” 

the knit in his brows loosened, and his eyes broke away from yours for a second. “you’re right. i apologize.” and just like that, his eyes quickly flickered away again.

his back as turned to you, “i do want gigi to be happy.” he said, knowing how gigi jokingly says otherwise. “however, not everyone has the best intentions. it’s difficult to not be wary.” 

you watched him open a table drawer and pull out his glasses box. he put them on, and then took out his phone. 

after a moment of silence, you continued your persuasion attempts. 

 “i know that, this’ll be your perfect chance to see what’s going on,” you said in a singsong voice towards the end, “and gigi already promised no public displays of affection between them, if you were worried about that.”

he just hummed, clearly not showing any interest in the whole ordeal, not wanting to discuss it any further.

you sighed again, and briefly checked your phone. you realised you would have to leave soon if you wanted enough time to get ready. 

you still sat watching him, though. it looked like he was trying to inspect something closer on his phone - that, or he had really bad eyesight - because he squinted and pulled his glasses down his nose bridge momentarily as he looked at his phone. 

he looked from his phone to you, “what time is this… double date happening?”

you stifled a laugh, “you look like a grandpa.”

he raised a judging brow, but you could see that smile creeping in. “i’ll repeat myself, when is this double date you speak of happening?”

“wait,” you realised what that meant, “you’re coming?!”

“i did not say that.”

you jumped up from the bed, beaming at him as you placed your hands on his arms,  “i knew you’d come to your senses!” 

he tilted his head back but made no attempt to move. and maybe it was your imagination, but it almost looked like he was smiling. 

“it’s at that one restaurant with the name i can’t pronounce and the weird logo, and gigi said to pleasewear something with colour, and that we should be there at 7!”

he sighed, looking like he was about to say something, but then he hesitated for a moment. his frown disappeared, and it seemed whatever complaints had too.

“i’ll be there to pick you up at quarter to.”

you blinked at him, your hands falling back to your sides, “quarter to?”

“6:45.”

“why didn’t you just say that then?” you joked. “quarter to,” you mocked him in a deep voice. “so extra” 

“extra?” he asked with a hint of a laugh.

“you’re extra, grayson hawthorne.”

his expression stayed the same , “it seems like you have new words to call me every week.”

“yeah, ‘cause you’re easy to make fun of.”

grayson accepted that and managed a smile, and also seemingly ignored everything you had just said. 

he changed the subject completely. “your glasses really suit you. have i told you that yet?” 

you willed yourself not to smile as you tilted your head to the side, “are you being sarcastic again?” you brought your hands to touch the frames you had promised to wear, and have gotten so used to them that they’d become second nature.

“i wasn’t ever being sarcastic,” he instantly replied, but his voice was rid of any teasing. 

you felt a few butterflies dance in your stomach, but you wouldn’t let that have any visible affect on you. “i’d believe that if you didn’t have such a good poker face.” 

his smile faltered slightly, “why would i lie to you?” 

butterflies at this point your stomach was turning into a mosh pit at the point, “because you’re my friend and you’re annoying.”

he nodded, that kind of slow nod that said that he wasn’t following what you were saying at all. “fair. good point.” 

“when do i not make good points? ” you asked, half laughing as you took a step back, not giving him any time to respond before you called out. “actually, don’t answer that! and don’t forget to wear some colour!”

—

to your surprise, he actually did wear some colour. and somehow, the colour of his tie complimented your dress perfectly. his suit was a mix of biege and grey, with a stark white button up underneath. 

and true to his word, he was outside your door at exactly 6:45. gigi had left the house much earlier with noah — they were going to some indie concert before the dinner. 

when you and grayson were brought to your table, you shared a surprised glance. noah and gigi were already sitting down, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen two people looking more blissfully happy in eachothers company. they couldn’t take their eyes off one another, so enamored with eachothers company. 

when they noticed you two, noah smiled nervously as his eyes landed on grayson, and gigi nearly jumped in excitement.

—

“are you currently working?” grayson asked noah, before raising his glass to his lips.

you felt so bad for the nervous boy, this had been going on for the past 30 minutes. he was adorable in a puppy sense, he reminded you of a pug, or a golden retriever, maybe, with his curly caramel coloured hair, and big brown eyes hid behind circular frames, that stayed on gigi for the majority of the time.

“yes!” noah’s voice picked up, before he heard his own enthusiasm and cleared his throat. 

“i’m a, uhm, veterinarian.” he spoke more leveled, and grayson didn’t say anything, so noah filled the silence between the table.

“my parents own multiple law firms around texas and some other states, but… it was never what i really liked.” he said with an almost wistful tone in his voice, “my siblings are all lawyers, but i prefer dealing with animal problems than people problems.” he added, chuckling nervously.

“yeah! he’s the cutest with cats, you should see it!” gigis voice was full of enthusiasm as her hand lightly grabbed noah’s upper arm, “but he’s actually a dog person, which is totally okay, actually! opposites attract!” 

they looked at each other and shared a small laugh, while you thought: 

opposites? 

they were practically written in the same font, gigis was just in bold, with a little cat emoji beside the text. they worked so well, gigi once told you half asleep at 3 am; “you know, i think i’ve missed him in my life before i even knew him. does that make sense?” 

quickly being brought back to the present, you smiled warmly at gigi, and soon enough conversation flowed between all four of you. 

it wasn’t long before you lost all track of the conversation as you zoned out on what noah was doing to his plate.

he was pecking at his food, seemingly separating the chicken from his alfredo on one half of his plate, and the pasta on the other half. 

this was going on for a full 2 minutes.

grayson turned to look at you as he noticed your unusual silence, and his eyes followed your focused gaze. 

he gave noah a very stern questioning look, and noah looked confused as his eyes flicked between you two, wondering why you looked so confused. 

“what?” he asked nervously, almost hesitant before looking down at his plate. “oh,” he realised your confusion, “i um—“

gigi seemed to have picked up on what was going on, “—he’s separating the chicken from his pasta for me because he doesn’t like it, and because i’m obsessed with it! isn’t that right noah?”

a sheepish smile grew on his face, before looking at gigi with so much love in his eyes, it made your heart warm and leap for your best friend. “yeah,” he said, “that’s right.” 

grayson hummed bedside you, “oh, of course.” he offered them a small smile out of politeness— an unusual act for him, but you assumed it was for rare occasions like these when he saw the sheer happiness beam off gigi’s face.

he must’ve sensed it too; they were an odd couple, but they worked perfectly. 

as if on cue, gigi reached over with her fork, abandoning all the cutlery rules she had been taught as a child, poked the chicken with the utensil and waved it just infront of  to her mouth, “om nom nom,” she giggled as she looked at the curly headed boy beside her, non stop quiet laughter from the both of them as she put her fork down, not even taking the bite she intended.

you and grayson shared another glance, chuckling, but wondering what was so funny that they were still laughing— nothing objectively funny had even happened, she had just said one thing. 

but you quickly realised that was one of the things that just wasn’t for you to get. 

that was probably how people thought of you and gigi, you thought. 

like when you’d be shaking with laughter with tears in your eyes over the stupidest things, and when someone would ask what’s so funny, they’d look at you strangely once you attempted to explain. 

it was just for you two to get. and now, she had someone else to have that with.  

you couldn’t have been more happy for that girl. she deserved it, more than anyone.

you were now thinking selfishly— wondering when you could experience that with someone you loved. even though you did have someone you loved so dearly: gigi, it was just like romance was just not in your playing field. 

everyone you had talked to always expected something from you, or expected you to be someone you weren’t. that, or they just didn’t care. 

you took your eyes to your hands, habitually fiddling with your fingers under the table to stop your thoughts from going any further. 

it wasn’t the time to be acting like this. you looked up and your eyes found their way to grayson, who’s head turned just as his eyes caught yours for a split second.

he looked at his plate, gigi and noah’s laughter died down now, and grayson was already asking him another question about his life. 

suddenly, you felt gigi’s leg nudge yours under the table, one of her ways of silently asking you if you were okay. 

you nodded at her to let her know you were fine. and in response, she attempted to raise a interrogative brow — she told you she’d been trying to learn how to do grayson’s eyebrow raise — and then narrowed her eyes to comically thin slits. 

“i’m okay,” you mouthed at her, but she gave you a look that said “we’re talking about this later,” before you both returned to the main conversation at the table. 

the rest of the evening was fine, with the dim lighting and soft piano in the background and the quiet chatter from everyone else in the restaurant. you shared funny embarrassing stories

when the bill came, noah immediately reached for his wallet, fingers fumbling a bit as he pulled out his card. across the table, grayson was also pulling out his wallet.

“hey, it’s alright, i can pay” he said, glancing around the table with a nervous smile.

grayson briefly looked as he set his card down on the table. “allow me, it’s no worry.”

noah hesitated, glancing between grayson’s card and his own. “no, really—i want to,” he insisted, voice a little shaky but clearly set on it.

grayson shook his head lightly, "please, i insist.” the words were even and polite but left no room for argument.

“no, seriously, i have no problem paying—“

“and neither do i. please,”

“it’s okay, actually, i’d love to pay.” noah managed, scratching the back of his neck, looking between you, gigi, and then back at grayson.

your eyes flickered between the two like a tennis match. you and gigi exchanged a look, both stifling smiles as noah shifted uncomfortably. then gigi spoke.

"hey, how about i pay?"

both grayson and noah turned to her instantly, in sync, and said a definite, adamant,

"no."

you couldn’t hold back a snort, catching gigi’s eye as she rolled hers, before her face lit up with an idea. 

finally, after an intense game of eenie meenie miney mo —suggested by gigi, noah payed. 

grayson reluctantly put his card back in his wallet, tucking it back in his pocket as noah flashed gigi a nervous smile. 

when they caught eachother’s eyes, grayson offered noah a slight nod, almost of respect. noah returned it with a smile.

you and gigi once again glanced at eachother. in both your eyes, that seemed like a success. 

a/n: this is such a filler chapter but i wanted to properly introduce my new fav, noah, and showcase his bond with gigi 😋 I PINKY SWEAR there’s so much fluff in part 4 you might have to check in with ur local dentist…

part 4

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @hermesenthusiast

@littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou

@emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23

@imaseabear @soleilars @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm

@lanterns-and-daydreams @graysw1fe

[billybob598]

Were You Gay-Panicking? (Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader)

IM BACKKKKK!!! Here's my bi-monthly fic :) I'm actually kinda proud of this one, felt like some good writing. Anyhoo enjoy bitches! As always, any feedback good or bad is welcomed! PEACE

Summary: (first time doing one of these) A few months ago, Kyra had no idea who you were. Now? Now, she was gay panicking everytime she was in the same room as you.

Word Count: 4.6K (WTF?!?!?!?!?!)

Kyra didn’t exactly know how to feel about you. Sure, you were Aussie. Sure, you were an amazing fullback who could run forever and never seem winded. Sure, you were quite possibly the sweetest person ever. Sure, you were stunningly beautiful. Kyra paused, her eyes locked onto you as you laughed that adorable laugh at something Katie had said. Okay, the thing about you being beautiful kind of slipped out. It’s not like it’s not true though. You did have this just natural beauty to you, you barely wore makeup, but you still shone in Kyra’s eyes.

 It was crazy that the two of you had never met before. You were roughly the same age, both Australian and now both Gunners. Unlike Kyra, you’re career up until this point had been riddled with injuries and unfortunate coincidences. Despite being an integral part of the Arsenal squad and having a breakout year last season, you were still not chosen for the World Cup, or any national team camps for that matter. Kyra had heard plenty about you from Steph and Caitlin, she had also seen you a bit on a few of the other Arsenal players' socials. You did have an Instagram account, but you rarely posted. Any true Arsenal fan knew who you were, but casual fans and Matildas’ fans probably hadn’t heard of you. You preferred to work in the background, you weren’t a big extrovert and your personality was more closed off so, consequently you weren’t insanely popular with the fans. So, when Kyra officially met you she had no idea how you weren’t the most liked player.

4 months ago

After finishing some of the required videos and finally signing her contract for The Arsenal, Kyra found herself wandering around the grounds. She had a few minutes until she was supposed to be at a press conference introducing all of the new signings, so she figured she could start exploring London Colney a bit more. As she passes through the locker room she hears some noise coming from the pitch. The distinctive sound of a boot colliding with a ball lures the Australian outside. The scent of fresh-cut grass and marking paint rushes into Kyra’s nose, bringing a soft smile to her face. Another ball gets kicked on the other side of the field. Turning her head, the midfielder is met with the sight of the prettiest woman she’s ever laid eyes on. She watched in awe at how your muscles flexed each time you struck the ball, her breath catching in her throat when you turn around. Your beautifully Y/E/C eyes glimmering, the sun hitting them just right. 

“Oh, sorry. I thought the field was open.” You mutter quietly, your face heating up slightly. 

“Uhm, it’s alright. I’m not here to play or anything. I mean-uh, well actually I am here to play, but not right now. At least I don’t think rig-” Kyra stumbles through her sentences until your giggle cuts her off. She blushes at the sound.

“No, I get what you mean,” you both stand there awkwardly, shifting your weight from foot to foot nervously, “Well, I should probably get going.”

“Wait! Uhh, I mean you sound Australian, you are right?” Kyra asks, desperate to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, yeah I am. I’m from Geraldton, you?” Your voice is quiet, but Kyra is already in love with it. 

“Herston, have you ever been?” 

“Yeah, I mean I’ve been to Brisbane, it’s nice.” The conversation comes to a awkward lull, Kyra can see how nervous you are. 

“I’m Kyra by the way.”  She extends her hand out to you. Glancing at it, you smile softly and take it.

“I know, Caitlin and Steph never shut up about you. I’m Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“You’re the Y/N Y/L/N? Holy shit, Caitlin and Steph never shut up about you.” A small blush forms on your cheeks. Kyra swoons at how flustered you look. She takes another second to admire everything about you. Just as she went to speak again a voice from behind her called out, telling her the press conference was about to start. “I’m really sorry, I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.” With one last smile, Kyra begins to back up and then turns and jogs to the man waiting for her. Tentatively, you touch your cheeks where the blush was still, very prominently, there. 

2 months ago

You watch from afar as Kyra, Caitlin, and Steph swing around from the bars singing along to Strawberry Kisses. A smile appears on your face when Kyra lets out a loud, silly laugh. 

A voice startles you out of your love-possesed trance, “You know, you’re really not subtle, like, at all.” 

“Shut up, Beth.” The England national smirks and for the next fifteen minutes proceeds to tease you about your developing crush on the new signing. 

“Okay, Beth, I think she gets it.” Your saviour, Viv, intervenes after her girlfriend makes a kissy face aimed towards you and Kyra. Beth groans and mumbles something about Viv not being any fun. Viv lets you go back to watching Kyra workout/goof around for a few moments before throwing her two cents in,

“You like her? Like, like like her?”

You sigh, “I don’t know yet. Would it be terrible if I did?” 

Viv shakes her head with a small chuckle, “Would it be terrible if you found someone you really liked and someone who is genuinely a good person? No, it’s not that bad.” You roll your eyes. 

“It feels pretty terrible. But, I guess it’s not too bad, especially since she’s never gonna like me back.” The older woman gives you a look, one that screams “you’ve got to be joking right now”. You and Viv had a certain connection to each other. Both of you were introverts on a team full of extroverts, so it was nice to have someone who didn’t mind just sitting in peace and quiet without any of the pressure of having to be “on”. 

“If Kyra liking you back is so crazy, then why is she staring at you right now with literal heart eyes?” Your head whips forward to find Kyra already looking at you. A blush was already creeping up your neck and you hadn’t even held eye contact for more than two seconds. 

Kyra is watching you carefully when your head turns to look at her. Her heart flutters when your cheeks tint red. A sense of pride swells in her chest at being able to make you blush.

“You two make me sick,” Caitlin says from behind Kyra. Steph is quick to shush the younger Aussie,

“They’re just in love, Cait. You can’t stop young love,” she says an annoying smirk tugging at her lips. Kyra rolls her eyes at her national teammates antics. 

“We are not in love. She definitely doesn’t like me, mate.”

“Sure,” Caitlin drawls out, seemingly unconvinced. 

“She doesn’t. I’m like 1000% sure.”

“Then why does she blush everytime you look at her, smile at her, or laugh?” Steph says, amused.

“Wh-What? No, she doesn’t. I think I’d notice.” The two older Aussies share a look, then they grab Kyra’s head and force it to look at you. Your eyes widen when you and Kyra make eye contact, heat already rushing up to your cheeks. She gives you a warm smile which does nothing to help your burning cheeks. Deciding that you’ve had enough biking for today, you step off the bike extremely ungracefully, bumping into everything and everyone. Kyra giggles from across the gym, her Australian friends rolling their eyes. 

“See? You two are so in love,” Steph tries to convince the younger girl. A frown replaces the small smile on Kyra’s face when you leave the gym,

“Whatever. You guys suck.”

2 weeks ago

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Tony Gustavsson’s calm voice brings you back to reality. 

“Oh, uh, yes sir. I mean, yes coach. Thank you so, so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.” Your voice is shaky and weak. Someone’s warm hand covers yours, lifting your head up, your met with Kyra grinning from ear-to-ear. Returning her smile, you say your goodbyes to Tony and place the phone down carefully on the kitchen counter.

 You were, once again, at Kyra’s apartment. The two of you had grown closer over the past few months, unknowingly both of you had swallowed down your feelings for each other, convinced the other didn’t feel the same. It was driving the rest of the team crazy, and it was about to get worse. Finally, you had gotten your first call-up to the national team.

You and Kyra had been cozied up on her couch, watching a Christmas movie (because it’s never too early to start is it?) when your phone had began to ring. Of course, Kyra had already received her call a few days ago. It was hardly surprising, after the World Cup and with her recent performances for Arsenal she was an obvious choice for the last two friendlies of 2023. You, on the other hand, had long given up your dream of playing for the national team. Being a little bit older than Kyra and a lot more injury prone, your caps for the Matildas stood at a resounding, zero. You had never even been to a camp. So, last year when Tony never so much as gave you a call, you put your Matildas dreams behind you and focused on your club football.

“Who is it?” Kyra mumbles sleepily, she had been on the verge of falling asleep, it was impossible not to. You were perfectly situated between her legs, your head resting comfortably on her chest. The movie did little to distract her from the scent of your perfume infiltrating the hoodie she was wearing. 

“I don’t know, Ky. It looks like an Australian number.” 

“Wait, I know whose number that is.” She says, now fully awake.

“Who?”

She takes a deep breath, trying to hide her smile, “It’s Tony’s. Like Tony Gustavsson. The head coach of-”

“Yes, I know who Tony Gustavsson is! You don’t think he’s calling to invite me to camp is he?” You exclaim, your nerve levels rising as the phone continues to ring.

“Only one way to find out.” 

Standing up, phone in hand, you take a breath before accepting the call. Kyra sits up on the couch, her hands loosening her grip on your waist. 

“Hello?” Slowly making your way to the kitchen, Kyra only catches your side of the conversation. She takes a seat at the counter watching nervously as you pace back and forth in front of her. You pause. It looks like you’re trying to process everything. “Oh, uh, yes sir. I mean, yes coach. Thank you so, so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.” A full-on grin breaks out onto Kyra’s face, she reaches across the counter and takes a hold of your hand. After hanging up, there is silence in the small apartment for a few seconds. 

“So?” Kyra prompts softly.

“I’m going to play for fucking Australia!” You shout excitedly. You both squeal happily, Kyra rushes over and brings you into a tight hug. 

“Now we’re national teammates as well!” Kyra says into your neck, her heart pounding as you laugh your beautiful laugh.

Over the next few days Kyra helps you pack for camp, telling you all of the basic information you’d need to survive while also filling you in on all of the important bits about the team itself. Who’s friends with who, what not to say to this person, why this person acts like this. She was surprisingly helpful. So, when you, Kyra, Caitlin, and Steph boarded the flight to Australia you actually felt pretty prepared. Kyra sat beside you on the flight, chatting your ear off, you didn’t really mind though. It was how your friendship went. Kyra would talk about anything and everything, while you listened carefully, never ignoring her. She found it endearing how you remembered everything she said, sometimes she didn’t even remember herself. 

An few hours into the flight, Steph leans across the aisle asking Kyra if she knew who is supposed to bring them to the hotel when they land. Kyra remembers saying something to you about it so she turns and taps your shoulder. Taking out one of your earbuds, you look at them, raising an eyebrow. 

“Uh, do you know who’s supposed to be picking us up? I think I said something about it to you,” Kyra asks quietly, so as not to interrupt the other passengers.

“William.” You answer plainly. Kyra nods while Steph watches in shock.

“How in the hell did you know that? You don’t even know who that is.”

“Kyra told me last night, she also told me that she couldn’t wait to ride the ferry to Vancouver Island when we get to Canada.” Kyra blushes. 

“I can’t believe you remember that,” she says, slightly embarrassed. 

“It’s kind of hard not to when it’s all you would take about for ten minutes.” 

Steph has to cover her laugh at Kyra’s mortified face.

“Is that seriously all I talked about last night?” 

“You tend to do that. It’s actually kinda cute.” That last bit slips out before you can stop it. Now, you’re the one blushing. You decide it’s better to look out the window than to keep looking at them. Steph wanted to strangle the both of you. God, you were so oblivious. How could neither of you see that you were head over heels for each other? Whatever, you’d figure it out. Hopefully sooner than later because she had five pounds on you guys getting together before the new year. 

After landing and grabbing your luggage, just as you said, William was there with a car to bring you all to the hotel the team was staying at. Walking into the lobby, cameras point at you four. Kyra and Caitlin grin and wave goofily at them, probably saying something stupid as well. 

Steph smiles and waves happily, “Good to be home, huh?” 

You walk behind them, looking up and waving at the cameras shyly, “Alright?” 

“Hey, Y/N! Wanna do a quick interview with the other first timers?” One of the social media guys asks from behind the phone camera. Kyra stops. You look at her, uncertainty looming in your eyes. 

She nods encouragingly, “Go on. I’ll take your stuff and get your room.” 

“Thanks, Ky. I’ll see you later.” You smile and follow the man heading in the other direction. 

“So that’s the girl you like!” Charli shouts from across the lobby. 

Kyra flinches at the volume of her best friends voice, “Jesus Christ, Charli. Could you be any louder?” 

“Wanna bet?” Kyra shakes her head, not wanting to see how far Charli can take things today. “She’s really pretty, I can see why you like her.” The blonde says in a much more indoor appropriate voice. Kyra just rolls her eyes in response.

After a few good days of training and getting to know everyone, the team was in Canada. Walking onto the ferry with your hoodie drawn tight to you and your toque covering the top of your head, Kyra was bouncing off the walls with excitement and energy. 

“Kyra, for the love of God, please calm down.” Mini says, trying her best to calm the young midfielder down. Her words have no effect, Kyra continues doing laps around everyone. You were walking Sarah Hunter, another player about to earn their first cap, when Kyra gets in front of you and turns backward to talk to you. 

“Hi Y/N! Aren’t you excited about the ferry?” She asks. Her hyperness, you notice, was starting to annoy some of your teammates, specifically Caitlin, who looked on the verge of pushing her Arsenal teammate into the Pacific Ocean. 

“I am, Ky,” you lower your voice so only those close to you can hear, “But how about we tone it down, okay? We have lots of time to be excited, but maybe just chill for a few minutes so they can tell us where to go and what not, how’s that sound?” 

Kyra listens to you, she falls into step with you and speaks a lot softer and calmer. 

Mini stares on in disbelief, “Oh, Kyra is down bad. I mean, she didn’t even listen to me, but as soon as Y/N says something she’s on her best behaviour.” 

Steph shakes her head, “You should see them at Arsenal, it’s unbearable.” 

You and Sarah were in deep conversation about something Kyra couldn’t care less about. She wanted to go explore the ship, but she promised you she’d be on her best behaviour. Kyra is getting antsy and you can tell, she keeps turning her head every time there’s a new sound. You just needed to get wherever the guide wanted you guys to be and then she can do whatever she wants. Just as the team passes the gift shop, Kyra almost bolts. You catch her though, your hand intertwining with hers and securing her at your side. Kyra is taken aback by your actions and blushes profusely. 

In a break in your conversation with Sarah, you lean over and mumble into Kyra’s ear, “I know, Ky. Just hold still for a little longer, okay?” Kyra nods and presses a small kiss to the top of your head. You almost die of a heart attack right there and then. Blushing, you squeeze her hand and get back into your conversation with Sarah. 

“Holy shit, Kyra needs to man the fuck up and ask her out already,” Charli groans a few meters from behind you. Mini scolds her for her language, but silently agrees with her. 

“Fuck me,” You mutter under your breath as Canada scores, again. Surprisingly, Tony had given you and a bunch of other players their first caps. Unsurprisingly, Canada had been dominating the entire match. You were exhausted from having to run up and down the pitch for all ninety minutes. It seemed like you were the only player who wanted to attack, or defend, or do anything at all. You definitely weren’t blaming the other Matildas on the field with you, for most of them it was their first time in their nations jersey as well. You guys were also facing a team determined to get revenge and send off their hero in the right way, so that was not helping at all. What also wasn’t helping was that there was maybe five minutes left in the match, so both teams kind of switched off. No one really cared about this blowout anymore. 

Kyra was chewing on her nails as she watched another through ball to you get overhit and land straight at a Canadian defenders’ feet. She watched as you began your recovery run, eyes tracking the ball carefully. When Quinn tried to thread a ball to Prince you timed your slide tackle perfectly and intercepted the ball. The bench stood up clapping and shouting encouragement to you. Keeping the ball close to your feet, you stood back up and began dribbling into space. The defense were dropping off, determined to keep a clean sheet. Your eyes scanned the field hoping to find anyone making a run. Unfortunately, your teammates seemed gassed. So, you started to pick up your speed with the ball. Skillfully, you dribbled around Fleming and Grosso, picking your head up once again to find Tameka making a run on the weak side of the pitch. You hit the ball, aiming to lead her into the miles of green grass in front of her. She controls the ball in stride and continues driving down the wide right channel. Continuing your run, you jog up to the top of the box hoping to put any rebounds back into the box. Tameka sends a cross into the box, it heads towards the penalty spot, multiple players jump up for it. Ultimately, Gilles gets most of it and clears it out to the top of the box. Right where you are. Kyra stands up. You watch as the ball arcs in the air and starts to drop towards you. It’s as if everything is moving in slow motion. You plant your left foot into the grass, the ball drops and drops and drops. Pulling your right foot back, you wait for it to just drop a little bit more. Now. Straightening your leg, you watch your foot connect with the ball. The ball surges forward while your boot recoils from the impact. Your eyes track the ball as it soars through the air, it slips past the outstretched foot of Buchanan, Amy Sayer jumps out of the way. The goalkeeper tries her best, but it’s useless, the net ripples as the ball buries itself into the top left corner. Screaming is all you hear, you’re frozen in your spot. Suddenly, Mary is in your arms and the rest of the team is hugging you and screaming at you. 

“What a fucking legend!”

“Banger! Absoloute banger!”

“Mate, you’re actually insane.”

“First goal for the Matildas, bitches!”

Tears are welling up in your eyes as you set Mary down. Holy shit. You’ve always dreamed of scoring for the Matildas, all of a sudden that dream was a reality. Mary tugs on your hand and pulls you over to where the subs are screaming and jumping up and down. You laugh. Caitlin and Steph are the first ones to you, yelling at you that you’re a baller or something like that. After they let you go, Kyra is waiting for you. She’s got that blinding smile that you’ve always loved. She pulls you into a hug.

“I’m so, so proud of you, Y/N/N.” Her hands run gently through your hair, you sink into the hug, letting out a sigh.

“Thanks Kyra, for everything. Um, I should go though the ref looks mad.” She nods and relinquishes her hold on you. Jogging back into place, you breath deeply. Finally. You had finally done it. You were a fucking Matilda.

Present Day

The team had gathered for their annual Secret Santa party. This year, it was held at Viv and Beth’s house. All the players were crammed inside the living room, a lot of food had been consumed along with a lot of laughs being laughed. There had been a Christmas movie marathon (2 movies) where you and Kyra had found a nice spot on the couch for the two of you. There had also been a small potluck, everyone brining a small dish to share with the team. Now, it was time for the gift exchange. A few weeks ago, there had been a very formal name-drawing process. There were blindfolds and everything, you were actually kind of impressed at how serious the team took it. You had drawn Frida’s name which you didn’t really mind. You got along with her well, and you were both pretty chill so it was easy to hang out with her. Her girlfriend had helped you track down some Norwegian sweets that you know she loved, you also threw in an adorable polar bear stuffy you found at a cute gift shop in downtown, London. 

Everyone was going in a circle, unwrapping their presents and guessing who their Secret Santa was. So far, there had been some really sweet gifts and some really funny ones. Such as Katie giving Leah a toy keyboard, one that was really meant for two year olds. Katie defended herself saying, “It was appropriate for Leah’s skill level.”

Soon enough, it was your turn. You searched the small tree sitting in the living room for a gift with your name on it. Finding it, you carefully picked it up and sat back in your spot between Kyra’s legs. All eyes were on you as you gently unwrapped the gift, not wanting to be rude and just tear apart the wrapping paper. A gasp escapes your lips, hand flying to your mouth in shock. Everyone asks you what it is. You take it out of its case and hold it up for the team to see. Gasps similar to yours fill the room. A diamond necklace with your first name initial as a pendant hung from your fingers. It must have cost at least £100. You look around the room desperately, looking to thank the giftgiver endlessly. Multiple people shake their heads. Finally, you look behind you, Kyra didn’t meet even try to meet your eyes. Her cheeks were burning red, her hand rubbing her neck nervously. 

“Uh, do you like it?” You could hear the nerves in her voice. You were still a little shocked from the gift, so you stand up abruptly and grab her hand leading her towards the bathroom. 

Slamming the door shut, you whip around to look at your fellow Aussie, “What the hell? Are you insane?” Kyra flinches slightly at your tone.

“Do you not like it? Because I can return it and get you something else,” her voice was unsure. 

“Wha-? Of course I like it! I love it, I love you! But, Kyra this had to have cost a shiton, I can’t accept this as a gift.” You say forcefully, still not realizing what you had said. Kyra had heard it though.

“Wait, did you just say you love me?”

You freeze. Well, you had said that. Not on purpose, though. But, it’s not like it’s not true. Kyra tentatively reaches out and takes your hand in hers, 

“Y/N?”

WIthout even thinking you crash your lips into hers. She gasps, but eventually melts into the kiss, your lips working against each others perfectly. Her hands found their way to your hips, gripping them tightly. Your hands wrapped behind her neck at first before moving into her hair. As you tug on her hair she lets out a soft moan, giving you access to her mouth. Slipping your tongue inside of her mouth, she gently pushes you against the bathroom wall. A soft gasp at the cold tile lets Kyra detach her lips from yours and begin working her way down your neck. She presses wet kiss after wet kiss onto your exposed skin. Finally finding your weak spot, you moan her name quietly. Her perfume, her mouth on your neck, everything about her was overwhelming your senses. 

“Ky…Ky we have to stop, someone could hear us,” you moan out softly as she places more kisses on your collarbone.

“Mmm, maybe. Or we could just keep going?” She smirks playfully at you. Fuck, her smirk did things to you that you weren’t exactly proud of. Rolling your eyes, you pushed her off of you.

“They’re probably waiting for us to continue the Secret Santa. We shouldn’t keep them.”

Kyra groans and drops her head onto your chest. You laugh, and run your fingers through her hair soothingly. 

“Umm, I really like you, you know?” Her voice is muffled against you, but you heard her loud and clear.

“Oh really? I had no idea,” you say sarcastically. She slaps your chest in response. 

“Shut up, asshole.” Another laugh rumbles through your chest. 

“Sorry, sorry. I really like you too, Kyra.” She smiles lazily and leans in for another kiss. 

“Y’know, everytime I saw you I was, like, gay-panicking,” she confesses with a embarrassed smile.

“Awww, were you gay-panicking? That’s adorable.”

“Asshole.”

[moosesarecute]

All other lifetimes

All lifetimes

46 years old

It was finally your favorite day of the year: Starfall. You had just woken up and prepared for the extremely long wait until the evening arrived.

You simply couldn’t wait.

You jumped out of bed and had just gotten dressed in a black dress with a dark blue jacket when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you sang.

You turned around as the door opened and immediately froze.

“Azriel,” you whisper yelled. “You know you can’t be here! If the high lord finds out you-“

“He won’t find out,” Azriel assured you. “I asked your mother for help.”

Your parents were the only two people that knew about your mating bond. How your mother found out, you never knew, but you had told your father in a hope that he would let you out of the marriage he arranged for you.

A smile big grew on your face as you realized just how supportive your mother was.

“We have to go now though, we only have a few hours.” Azriel continued.

“Where are we going?” You asked, but you didn’t actually need to know. You trusted him completely.

“It’s a surprise,” he answered with a smile as big as yours.

You flew together up to the mountains. Sometimes intertwined, sometimes beside each other, but most important as close to one another as possible. Not because you were scared, but because you two always felt better, calmer, being close.

As you landed, you saw a picnic he had arranged. With a blanket to sit on, your favorite flowers and some of your mother’s food.

“Wow,” you said in awe. “It’s beautiful.”

“I wanted us to at least have a day to pretend,” Azriel said quietly.

“Let’s make it the best day ever,” you whispered, holding back tears. “No arranged marriage to separate us.”

He took your hand and guided you towards the picnic. You sat down and started to eat. You ate mostly in silence. It was a while since you had been together and you always loved spending time just being in each other’s presence.

The mating bond hummed stronger and stronger the longer you sat together.

“What would our life be like?” You asked Azriel.

You sat in between his legs, resting your back on his chest and your head on his shoulder. He sat with his hands behind him, holding you up. His shadows were playing with your hair.

“I’d like for us to stay in Velaris,” he answered after spending some time thinking. “Maybe not in the middle of the city, but close to everyone.”

“I’ve always wanted to live in a small cottage,” you told him. “It would be just big enough for me and you. And a few little ones if we wanted to.”

Azriel’s shadows left your hair and you turned your head to look at him. You were filled with his many emotions of both surprise and happiness, but also worry and sorrow.

“You’d want to have kids with me?” he asked looking into your eyes.

You sat up and turned so that you could see him better.

“Of course!” you exclaimed. You reached and took his hands in yours. “I’d love to have your kids. To watch them grow and look like a mix of both of us. To teach them how to fly and take our first flight together as a family. We would have to have at least two, of course. No Y/N can grow up without a Rhysie.”

You held back tears once more as you finished. Azriel’s thumbs brush over your hands.

“What else have you thought about?”

You sat up straighter as you spoke.

“I want us to have a big garden with many flowers and also a lot of grass for us to relax in. Enough space at the table for our entire family, Rhysie, Cass and Mor included of course.”

“A place that smells like us, where we do not have to hide,” Azriel added. “Not that we needed to push our smell onto everyone else.”

“I want you for myself, but our cottage would definitely be a place where the two of us could be free. Just the two of us.”

“It sounds amazing and exactly how I’d want it to be,” Azriel told you.

The two of you laid down on the picnic blanket and looked up to the sky.

“I don’t want to marry the heir of Spring.” You were no longer able to hold back tears. No longer able to ignore the truth of your life. You would never have your perfect life with Azriel. “I want you.”

Azriel turned to his side and his shadows tried to comfort you by playing with your hair.

Azriel took your hand as he said: “I want you too, Princess.”

His eyes stared deeply into yours and he tucked your hair behind your ear and cupped your face with his hand.

“My beautiful mate. I am the luckiest male in all of Prythian even if I can’t have you in this lifetime.”

As the tears started to leave his eyes, you started to cry even harder. You hated that you had to hurt him by being with someone else. However, you also knew that you didn’t have a choice. Not in this life.

You let go of his hand and held up your pinky finger.

“All other lifetimes?”

Even though it was a question, you meant it as a statement. You would be his in every other life.

Azriel didn’t hesitate as he intertwined his pinky finger with yours.

“All other lifetimes,” he answered determinedly.

Two identical tattoos wrapped around your fingers.

You spent some time just watching him. Taking in every feature of his face. The small scar on his forehead, the shape of his eyes and ears, the color of his lips, the way his lips trembled when a tear escaped his eye, how his lips moved as he breathed out.

Before you even realized you had leaned in, his lips met yours.

The kiss was soft, but suddenly everything seemed right in the world. You felt like you could to anything, be anything, because Azriel were kissing you.

You had thought of this since the day you realized what kissing was. You had dreamed about it since the mating bond snapped.

Finally, the day had come.

You needed more. The mating bond was humming like never before, but it was only calming, not the stressful and anxious screaming the bond usually caused you when you were apart.

You deepened the kiss. Your lips met and soon your tongues did too. The salty taste of your tears mixed with the hope from your kisses.

“I want you,” you told him in his mind so that you didn’t have to stop kissing him.

Azriel’s lips left yours.

“Are you sure?” His voice trembled.

You didn’t even need to think. If anyone should be your first, it should be your mate. You decided it a long time ago, and realizing Azriel was your mate only made you want it more.

You would never feel safer than what you did with him.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” I answered and kissed him once more.

*********************************

56 years old

And then you finally heard the door open and in walked your beautiful, sweet, majestic, mysterious and wonderful mate, your Azriel, ready for you to accept the bond.

He hesitated at the door.

“You are sure you want to do this? If you’re not 100% we can just have a normal two weeks off,” he said looking concerned at you.

Just stood up walked towards him. As soon as you stood before him, you raised onto your toes and kissed him deeply.

“I’m 100% sure, Az,” you told him. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been sure since the day the bond snapped, love.”

You had to hold back your squeal and you ran towards the apple pie that stood on the cabin’s kitchen table.

You cut a slice and put it on the plate you had prepared earlier.

You then pulled out a chair and urged Azriel to sit down.

Your eyes met as you sat the pie slice in front of him.

“You make me the luckiest male in Prythian,” Azriel told you, still meeting your eyes. “I will make sure you always know that. I love you more and more for every day we spend together in this life.”

You almost glowed with happiness. The day was finally here.

“I love you too, Azriel.” You held up your pinky. “All lifetimes?”

His smile grew ten times bigger as he intertwined his pinky with yours.

“All lifetimes!”

You pushed the place closer to him.

“Now,” you said. “Please eat. I want to ravish you.”

Azriel laughed as he picked up the fork and took a big bite out of the slice.

*********************************

170 years old

You were dying.

You felt your legs give out, but the shackles held you up.

You had no way of getting any rest. If you passed out, they would just wake you again and continue the torture.

“Answer the question, Shadowsinger, and we will stop torturing her,” one of your captors told your mate.

What was supposed to be an easy mission turned out to be a trap. An ambush where 30 soldiers were against you and Azriel. You didn’t stand a chance, even though you took out about half of them.

“You have one last chance,” the captor continued.

You weren’t even sure Azriel was conscious. Your eyes were blurry from tears, sweat and blood.

The captors had tortured one of you to get the answers out of the other. They would keep going until you were on the brink of death and then give you a small break before they started again.

You screamed as you felt the tip of the knife go into your leg. It burned, the knife was definitely laced with poison.

“You’re doing great, princess.” You heard your mate’s shaky voice. He must be in bad shape, since let the captor hear his voice that desperate. “Please just hold on a little longer.”

You weren’t sure you could. It had been three days. You weren’t sure if you had a uncut place on your body.

“I’ll carve an K here I think.” You felt the knife on your upper thigh.

“Don’t you dear,” Azriel threatened, but both of you knew he couldn’t do anything.

“If you just tell me where I can find your High Lord’s most used estate, I’ll stop.”

He gave Azriel some time to answer before he carved a K deep into your left thigh.

You tried to get away, but it only made him cut you deeper.

“Stop it, please. It burns,” you cried out hating yourself for showing weakness.

Your captor only laughed. “If your mate only loved you enough, he would have stopped it.”

“Don’t listen to him,” you heard Azriel say. “I love you. I love you. I love you, Y/N.”

Your ears started ringing and was soon louder than the words from your mate.

“Please hold on, Y/N.” Was the last thing you heard before you passed out again.

You laid in Azriel’s arms as you woke. His bloody left wing was covering you, the other one had a pole going through it. He was barely awake.

“Thank the caldron,” he whispered and kissed your head.

You then heard footsteps.

“So she’s still alive,” your torturer said as he walked into your cell. “Can’t have that can we?”

“Don’t you touch her,” Azriel replied, his voice weaker than ever. His wings tightened around you, but it didn’t help.

You were ripped out of his embrace and before you knew what happened, you felt the knife entering your stomach.

“We don’t need you two anymore.”

You heard Azriel’s restrains unlocking and then you were back in his arms.

“Stay with me, love. Look at me. I’m here. I’ll get you home.”

The captor only laughed. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, giving false hope now too?”

He grabbed the two of you and winnowed.

You landed harshly on the forest floor beside Azriel. A pained scream left your lips.

“Have a good death.” The captor left you.

You turned your head to see your surroundings. You were in a clearing not far from Velaris. If your family was looking for you, they definitely could find you, but you didn’t dear to hope for it.

You were dying.

You turned your head to look at your mate.

He laid on his stomach, the pole still sticking out of his wing. Luckily for you, you had been laid on your back, so that the knife didn’t stick further into your stomach.

Azriel weakly scooted closer to you. He spread his wing out and covered you.

“Stay awake, love. Please don’t leave me.” His voice was weak and you knew he was as tired as you were.

With the last of your energy you moved your hand towards his. Your pinky finger found his. Neither of you needed to say anything. You both knew what you meant.

You’d meet again in the next lifetime.

Azriel’s eyes closed and you felt the bond between you two going further and further away.

As your eyes grew heavier and your body gave out, you felt talons in your head as you heard: “stay where you are, we’re coming.”

You opened your eyes and blinked to get used to the light. You looked around and realized you were in your old room in the House of Wind.

Azriel

You immediately stood up from your bed.

Where was he?

You felt nauseous as you started to walk towards the door.

No no no no no no. Why can’t you feel him?

You walked out to the corridor outside your room. You were going to his old room. He had to be there.

You felt drunk as you made your way down a flight of stairs.

You hadn’t gotten far when you felt a hand around your wrist and another around your waist.

“Y/N,” your brother said.

“Rhysie?”

“Come here, you shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“Where is he?”

Azriel was all you could think about.

“I’ll go get him. Let’s get you back into bed, you’re hurt.”

The mating bond was screaming inside your chest.

“Where is he?” You asked desperately.

“Please, Y/N, you-“

“WHERE IS HE?” You screamed at your brother.

Rhys let out a sigh.

“His in the kitchen. He’s alright.”

You ripped your wrist out of his hand and rushed towards the kitchen.

As you went down another flight of stairs you felt them. His shadows. They were swirling all over your entire body, checking for injuries. As they noticed the wound on your stomach they gathered round your waist to keep you stable.

You had just stepped on foot onto the floor the kitchen was on as the kitchen doors flew open.

His hazel eyes met yours. You broke down with a sob.

He ran towards you and immediately wrapped his arms and wings around you.

“It’s okay. I’m here. We’re home. We’re safe,” he whispered into your ear and his hand rested on the back of your head. “You’re okay. You’re alive. We’re both alive.”

You finally felt the mating bond that connected you together and the overwhelming feeling of relief hit you.

“Let’s get you into bed again, love,” he said. “I won’t leave you. I’m yours in all lifetimes.”

*********************************

532 years

“I’m going in,” Azriel said.

“No,” both you and Rhys snapped at him.

You stood in the middle of the battle against Hybern.

He spread his wings and you almost whimpered at the sight of the bruises.

“Chain me to a tree, Rhys,” your mate said in he’s beautiful soft voice. “Go ahead. I’ll rip it out of the ground and fly with it on my damned back.”

You heard the determination behind his voice and knew that it was nothing you could do.

You heard the horn and felt the terror together with your family as the rest of Hybern’s army sailed towards you. You swore. There would be no way all of you made it out alive.

In the midst of it all, Azriel moved to stand besides you.

His pinky finger wrapped around yours as he said your most important saying: “All lifetimes.”

He whispered so that nobody else could hear it.

“All lifetimes,” you answered.

“Azriel,” Rhys said quietly, but his eyes met yours. “You lead the remaining Illyrians on the northern flank.”

You saw the guilt and fear in your brother’s eyes as he gave the commands, but you knew that he did the right thing.

Azriel turned to you, held his left hand on your back and gathered your hands in his right one. He pulled you into what must have been the most passionate kiss of your lives.

He let go and before you could say anything, he shot into the sky with unhealed wings to help your chance to win this war.

You have never been prouder and more scared at the same time as you walked back into battle.

You stumped towards your brother. You were fuming with anger.

He turned towards you and you raised your hand and slapped his cheek.

“You’re an idiot, Rhysand,” you told him with tears running down your eyes. “You knew you would die, knew you would leave us, and still did it? It’s your worst idea ever. You can’t always be the one sacrificing yourself!”

Rhys let you finish speaking before he stepped forward and embraced you.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he said. “Thank you for surviving.”

“Thank you for coming back to life.”

He kissed the top of your head.

“I have to go help Miryam, but you can yell at me later okay?”

You started to seek for your mate. You knew he was alright, but you hadn’t had time to talk, just a quick kiss in between helping all the hurt survivors getting to the healers.

You hadn’t walked far before you felt his shadows wrapping around your waist and soon also Azriel’s arms were holding you.

He nuzzled his head into your neck and hair. Talking some time just smelling you.

“You alright, love?” You asked him.

He held you even tighter. You felt all kinds of emotions down the bond. Relief, happiness, love was some of them, but you also felt exhaustion, pain and anger.

“I’m not ready to finish this lifetime with you,” he said.

You felt your heart shatter as you realized what he meant. He thought you would die and he wasn’t ready.

“Neither am I,” you replied. “Let’s have a few more centuries, shall we?”

You felt his smile growing.

“We absolutely should.”

You turned your head and kissed him softly.

******************************

536 years old

You sat down on the couch next to your mate. You were holding your daughter, Cassandra, and he held your son, Rhyland. Both 6 months old.

Both of the twins were screaming their lungs out and had been doing that the last our.

“We should switch,” you suggested. “We all know she’s a daddy’s girl.”

You put down your daughter as you picked up your son. Azriel picked up Cassie.

They immediately shut up.

Both of you had to hold back a laugh. You loved learning about their big personalities.

“You know,” Azriel said. “I can’t imagine a lifetime better than this one. I think this will be our best one.”

You felt warm with love. Holding your son, watching your mate hold your daughter.

You were the happiest you had ever been.

“As long as you are in my lifetime, it’ll be the best one.”

[dentos-wife]

Let’s talk how about Chrom and Robin’s bond evolved over time

With everyone clamoring over the new emblem I wanted to take a look back how we got here with their relationship and why I think at this point Chrobin is the intended or inferred Chrom pairing when it didn’t used to be.

In 2012 we got Fire Emblem Awakening, and as Chrom was related to Marth, his inferred pairing was Sumia a pegasus knight as a nod to Caeda, Marth’s canon wife. Granted because part of Awakening’s charm is you could pair anyone up, you didn’t have to pair Chrom up with Sumia if you didn’t wish to. But to IS she was the intended choice.

She had special scenes with Chrom and was the most likely to end up paired with him if you weren’t gunning for a specific wife for him

And you see her here in the opening with Lucina

Robin is you, the avatar, they don’t even have official art, just them with a hood

They had a canon design what we all know now but it wasn’t really used. And that should have been it as far as IS was concerned. Awakening was their last hurrah. And then FE blew up.

Robin’s canon design is now getting used, both the male and female version are now in Smash Bros. Then we have Warriors and Heroes and the Awakening cast shows up more. But not Sumia. Perhaps it’s because she’s not popular or the people flocked to Cordelia instead but she is the pegusus knight everyone loves. Sumia isn’t even in Warriors or the base FEH she gets added much later to FEH only with other less popular Awakening characters.

It’s here when FE became more maintstream I believe that IS changed their tune on Sumia being the intended wife and retconed it. I fully think Sumia was dropped and they no longer had an intended pairing for him all because she just wasn’t popular. Him and Robin were close of course they always were, obviously some would see it as friendship others would see it as something more the usual nothing really changed there.

And then 2022 ten full years after Awakening’s release...this happened

Couple things here. I fully believe the reason Chrom was paired with MRobin here instead of FRobin is for two big reasons reasons.

1) If they paired him with FRobin it canonizes a pairing so MRobin is the safer option, FEH doesn’t usually pair men and women unless they’re already a pairing. So MRobin got paired with Chrom and FRobin was on her own but she still has lines about how much Chrom meant to her.

2) MRobin is the more popular Robin as has been shown every year in CYL and he’d even win next year

So Chrom and Robin were always close it was a no brainer to make them a duo unit, they picked the male version on a very family oriented banner.

That said some of these lines...well let’s just say if a man and a woman were saying that to each other there would be no doubt here. Imagine if this Robin was the female version

Robin: There's Lissa, Emmeryn, Lucina, Frederick... I think we've got gifts for everyone. Don't we? Chrom: Well, all but one. What would you like your gift to be, Robin? Robin: What? Me? You can't just come out and ask like that, you know. There are rules! Chrom: You know I don't care about that. Just tell me what you want. Robin: Truthfully...I can't think of anything. Chrom: You don't want anything? Aw, come on. Think of the bind that puts me in. Robin: You gave my life meaning when I had nothing—not even my memory. The sense of purpose I've found at your side, working for peace in the world, is all I could ever ask for. Chrom: You're not alone in that, you know. I feel the same way. That's why I wanted to give you something nice. To show you how I feel. Robin: All right, all right. In that case, why don't you give me one of those flowers you're wearing? Chrom: It's only going to wilt. Robin: I'll press it into one of my books. That way I'll never forget this Day of Devotion.

Snippet from their duo convo. Usually when someone gives flowers it’s considered a pretty romantic gesture I’ve heard plenty of people call this alt playfully the gays and yeah this is very strong.

FRobin even comments on them in one of her lines.

“That man with Chrom is a Robin from another world, right? They get along so well, I'm almost jealous...“

There was no need for that line at all, we can tell from their lines how flipping close they are but they felt the need to have another character comment on it in base lines

I do believe MRobin was used not to canonize a pairing...at first. And then they gave up because it looked like people really liked it going even further in the next year.

In Awakening Chrom and Robin refer to themselves as two halves of the same whole which is already a loaded term. But it’s never been used after and was just part of the game

Enter the next time they pair up as the Emblem of Bonds which brought that back for the first time since 2012, in full force

Correct me if I’m wrong but no one besides them have referred to each other as their other half in Awakening

Lucina does it in Engage. For reference other half means husband, wife or partner (romantic). I think after the Valentine’s alt they decided sure why not and now they’re really going in with Robin being Chrom’s other half when they only touched the term once past Awakening in a FRobin cipher card. Other half in Engage is Robin and he pops up when engaged with Chrom to mix magic with the attack. I don’t doubt you can mean a friend with this term but when paired with everything else they say to each other, it’s pretty strong evidence it’s further than friendship.

Okay now for the the ultimate Robin is now Chrom’s intended partner view, Legendary Robin also released this year

“Tactician of Ylisse. Celebrated as Exalt Chrom's other half in the legends that followed their exploits. Appears in Fire Emblem Awakening. “

I saw some people argue exalt could mean Lucina too but no it doesn’t, it clearly means Chorm it says so and if you didn’t believe that, we got a map that was the two called Chrom and his other half. Which is Robin.

His art also references his other half status, he now wears blueish green jewelry which stands for Chrom and the brand of the exalt is on his chest plate

Finally in his damage art he once again has the symbol of the exalt formed in magic.

And a ring, some have argued it’s his clothes but usually the magic gauntlets he wears are on his middle finger and not under his gloves; pretty sure it’s a ring, it’s even on the ring finger of his left hand, where you generally put a wedding ring.

All this together is some very strong evidence, but put it with everything else they’ve done since last year and it’s clear to me, IS now is pushing Chrom and Robin as the intended pairing. Not canon like Marth and Caeda or Alm and Celica, but intended like they do with Eliwood and Ninian and some others I’m probably forgetting. And because MRobin is who they use and their “canon” sort of like FCorrin is the “canon” Corrin, IS is strongly hinting at MChrobin

Which fascinates me, we went from Chrom with a intended implied wife to scrapping it and pretended it never happened to this, Chrom with an intended husband. Him and his best friend, both two guys, very much in love. In ten years IS changed it’s mind on the intended canon pairing that isn’t even possible in the base game. They are a fate defying duo, the emblem of bonds, the exalt and his other half, two halves of the same whole and they are showing that in symbolism harder than ever. I think that’s really cool

To end this I’m aroace and see romance a little differently from the amatonormic norm Chrom and Robin could just be really good friends lord knows I also think friendship should be just as important as romance BUT if they were, it’s very clear they are each others most important person over any wife they might separately have.  But even that doesn’t follow a typical heteronormative relationship no? Chrom and Robin’s bonds are so strong they transcend the concept of romance and friendship as we know it, there is no name for the type of love they share it’s beyond us.

But what about Lucina? (and Morgan) In a world with magic, dragons, people dying and coming back to life, time travel and more the idea of two guys somehow having a child is no longer far fetched at all really, or even surrogates exist.

Also they act like kind of like dads with her and it’s really cute

Now granted IS could remake Awakening and MRobin will still not be able to marry Chrom and this whole analysis would have been for naught but I think if they do remake it they’ll add it. Look at how many people have been introduced to them just through Heroes and Engage you don’t think people are going to want to pair up the exalt and his other half in their game?

To sum it up, yes there literally is no heterosexual explanation for where IS has taken this. It wasn’t originally the intended pairing but it sure is now, I don’t think there is any room for denial anymore until we see what they do with a remake.

[cs-fox]

TEEN SIMON RILEY TROPE

cut bench!simon riley . 16 years old

______________________________________________________________

What a great first job, your parents promised you. Working at your local pizza joint!

That’s what you thought, as well. Most of the workers there were two or three years older than you, besides the shift runners in their early twenties, and of course, your manager.

The second you had turned fourteen your parents decided you needed a job, needed some responsibility. So they made you organise your walks to work and a carpool - usually with the friendlier shift runner or delivery driver - so you could get home after those four hour shifts you hated.

Since being trained to deal with customers, you’d been put on sauce bench - the name speaking for itself. You stood at a bench and sauced pizzas for hours at a time.

The only positive of this was your position in front of cut bench.

This was because more often than not, Simon worked there, cutting pizzas with - not always precision - but definitely something.

Not that you’d ever exchanged more than a few words with the sandy-haired sixteen year old, but you had certainly exchanged glances. It was pretty much old news every time his eyes snagged on yours as he walked in to start his shift.

He was always fashionably late, in stark comparison to your infallible earliness, and you had the pleasure of watching as he slouched in, eyes tracing up and down your form in that apron and skinny jeans you always wore.

He barely ever chose to speak to you, unless you both were working a late shift and were alone in-store. It didn’t help that you seemed to stumble over your words whenever he opened his mouth within a two-meter radius of you.

You’d heard about Simon’s multiple girlfriends. He wasn’t a very faithful guy.

So you tried to stay away, at least for as long as you could.

Until he hitched a ride home in the same car you had lined up.

When he opened the door and plonked himself down in the backseat beside you with a groan, you sat up fast, boots scraping on the car’s floor mats as you subconsciously tried to make yourself appear smaller. Oh, God, this is so embarrassing…

Simon turned slowly, his eyes meeting yours for a long moment, before he muttered his address to the driver.

You couldn’t help but stare, his angular jaw and dilated brown eyes always a point of interest. He looked much older than he was, due to the fact one of your shift runners kept offering him cigarettes he couldn’t refuse.

He said, after a very awkward silence, ‘Pretty busy tonight, huh?’

You sighed, nodding. ‘Fuck - it was awful. Never want to sauce another classic crust in my life.’

Simon snorted a laugh. ‘We should swap. I don’t fancy cutting any more pizzas. Ever.’

‘Me - cut bench? And I’ve heard the stories of your time on sauce bench, mister. I don’t think our managers would be too happy.’

‘Pfft. I’m still good at everything in store.’

‘The way John talks about you, I’d hope so.’

John was one of your shift runners, a friendlier but short-fused man in his early twenties.

For another five or so minutes, you sat in silence. Simply trading glances, until the car stopped. You had pulled up two streets over from your own house, within comfortable walking distance - you assumed that was what the driver had intended until Simon’s door opened and shut.

You gave thanks to your driver and clambered out of the car as well, calling out to Simon. ‘Hey - I live a few streets down from you.’

He turned, tilting his head. ‘You gonna walk home? At ten o’clock? This street is sketchy as hell.’

You flushed. ‘Um…’ you really hadn’t thought this one out.

‘C’mon. I’ll walk you home. What’s your address?’

You mumbled out an answer and he fell into step beside you. Slowly, surprisingly easy conversation came, until you realised you’d basically bumped into your front door without noticing.

‘Well…’ you tried awkwardly, but Simon cut you off suddenly.

‘Can I get your number?’

______________________________________________________________

my favourite trope now. be prepared for more parts.

[louloulemons-posts]

I was wondering if you might write a story about reader having 3 cats and she is frustrated because no other boyfriend has gotten along with her cats until she started dating Eddie. Please! “Tea and Toast” is one of my favorites!

Little Voids

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Word Count : 0.9k

Warnings : not proofread, swearing, flirty eddie, kissing, just cute cat content, minor talk of mistreatment of cats, talks of witches.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Okay I’m going out now, you three be good okay?” You said, throwing your bag over your shoulder, giving each cat a fuss on the head. “Pepper, you’re in charge,” throwing a smile at the black cat, with slowly greying fur, you headed out.

You couldn’t help but grin when you saw a familiar face, Eddie was leaning against his van, wild curls blowing in the wind as always. “Hey you,” he said, matching your cheesy grin.

“Hey.” Letting your lips brush his in greeting, you felt his hands come to rest on your waist. “You look very cute today,” he complimented. Your face flushed at that, you and Eddie had been together for a few months now and you were still feeling those jitters.

“I got you something,” you said, pulling a small pouch out of your bag. “Oh yeah? What’s this?” Taking it in his hands, he pulled the tie, letting a ring fall out.

It was twisted silver around a deep blue stone, that appeared black when it wasn’t in the sun. “Oh baby, this is beautiful. You make this?” With a hum you nodded, pulling a chain over your head, you undid the clasp.

There lay Eddies skull ring, “Hey I was looking for that,” he laughed.

“Sorry, I didn’t know your size so,” your face was warm at the admission. “You’re so cute,” taking your face in his palms, he pulled you close.

Meeting your mouth with his own, you sighed into the kiss, pulling yourself closer, holding onto his t-shirt. “Keep kissing me like that, and we’re going to have to go up to your apartment,” Eddie mumbled against your lips.

“You could … if you want to.”

“Are you sure? You’ve kinda been weird about me ever coming up. You hiding a husband up there?” I laughed, shaking my head.

“You’re the only one I’m interested in Eds you know that.” He tried to hide his smile, but failed big time, unable to not share a toothy grin with you. “Then why haven’t you invited me up?”

Pushing away from him slightly, you slid the old and new ring onto his fingers. “Well we’d have company.”

“Oh?” He cocked his head to the side, “You’ve got a roommate?”

“Try three. Three incredibly cute, yet needy roommates.”

“So you’ve got a husband and kids?” he joked. “Try three kids, well they’re basically my kids.”

Eddies face scrunched in confusion. “I’ve got three cats, my little voids as I call them. Pepper, Salem and Binx.”

“You have cats?” You nodded, “And you never told me?!”

“Well I’ve had issues before when I’ve dated people. They didn’t like them, wanted me to get rid of them, so when I refused we’d just fizzle. Think you can tell a lot about people by the way they treat cats.”

“Babe! I love cats, oh my god we have to go be introduced.” Eddie grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards your apartment. “Eddie! We were meant to be going for lunch.”

“Forget lunch, this is so much more important.” Eddie bounced on his toes like a small child waiting for you to unlock the door. You were almost in shock at his excitement, most people weren’t fond of your cats.

But as you had learnt, Eddie Munson was not like most people.

Opening the door with a push, you were instantly met with the sweet sounds of chirping and meowing. “I know my loves, I’m back sooner than we thought.”

You heard the door close behind Eddie, who stood in awe, looking at the trio of cats. The three small creatures looked at him wide eyed. “Oh my god, they’re so cute.”

“Eddie this is Pepper, my oldest girl,” You stroked the salt and pepper cat, her big yellow eyes staring up at you.

“This is Salem,” the other female cat looked up at the mention of her name, big green eyes, a piece of her ear missing.

“And this is my boy, Binx. He’s the newest addition.” Binx was smaller in comparison, but still looked like his older sisters, only orange eyes and sharp features look much different.

“Oh they’re beautiful,” Eddie walked over quietly, holding his hand out so they could sniff. Binx walked over with ease, sniffing for a second then bumping his head into Eddies hand.

Pepper followed after, giving a soft purr when Eddie scratched behind her ears. Salem wasn’t too sure, the shyest of the trio, she sniffed Eddie then made her way to you.

“She not a fan of new people?”

“Not really, took her a while to get used to me. Found her about 3 years ago on Halloween, kids being real mean.

“It’s why I have three black cats, people think they’re witches cats. Don’t want the bad omen or whatever, but they’re just big fuzzballs.”

Salem jumped up onto your shoulder with ease, resting there. “Did you want to hang out here?” You asked Eddie, taking a seat next to him, on your second hand, emerald green couch.

“Would that be okay?”

“Course bubby. I’m glad you like them, I was real worried you’d do the same as others and tell me to get rid.”

“I’d never, they’re lovely.” He smiled as Binx climbed into his lap. “Baby Binx,” you spoke softly, “I was scared you wouldn’t wanna be with me, think I’m some cat obsessed witch.”

“You’re a very sexy witch.” Letting out a chuckle, I pushed a lock of Eddies hair behind his ear, “Thanks babe, you’re not too bad yourself.”

With a smile, his attention turned back to Pepper, who was meowing to get his attention. “God maybe it was a bad idea to introduce you.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re gonna pay more attention to them than me!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : I really hope you enjoyed! I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to write, the writers block is real, I inspired this on my own cats lmao 🫶🏻

Please remember to adopt animals and love them always, they need us to keep them safe and sound 🤍

Thank you so much for reading!

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 15 - 'Le Château’ | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.6k

When you woke up the next day still in Paris with Jude it felt both unbelievable and romantic, like stepping into a scene from a dream. The warmth of his arm wrapped around you, the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the curtains, and the faint sounds of the city waking up outside—it all felt impossibly perfect. 

After getting ready for the day, you sadly had to leave your dream tucked inside the Four Seasons and headed back to your family’s home. You led Jude down the hallway, through the house, and to a private elevator that descended into the garage. The sleek, polished doors slid open, and you stepped out, with Jude trailing behind, still groggy from probably staying up a bit too late messing about between the sheets but his eyes still glimmered with curiosity. The sight that greeted him snapped him out of it immediately. His jaw practically hit the floor when he saw the black Bugatti Bolide parked in front of you. The car’s dark, glistening curves reflected the garage lights, every inch of it screaming luxury. You casually moved toward it, pulling open the door with ease as if this wasn’t a rare, multimillion-dollar car. Jude blinked, trying to process what was happening.

“Y/N….What... what is this?” Jude finally managed to ask, his voice filled with awe and confusion. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. 

“It’s my dad’s car,” you said, like it was no big deal. “I told you it’s a thing. I wouldn’t normally drive it, but… well, you heard the request.” You smiled.  Jude looked at you, then back at the car, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“I’m definitely not complaining,” he said with a grin. You gave him a playful smirk as you slipped into the driver’s seat, glancing up at him. 

“You know,” you teased, “you really should learn how to drive. Might come in handy one day.” Jude raised an eyebrow, leaning against the car door, a playful yet conflicted look on his face. He was torn. He had never been more attracted to you, sitting there behind the wheel of one of the most beautiful cars he had ever seen, dressed in an effortlessly chic outfit that somehow made the whole thing even more intoxicating. But then again, he couldn’t stop his mind from drifting back to last night—flashes of your skin, your warmth, and how he felt tangled up with you in bed. His thoughts bounced between the sight of you now and the memory of you then, and he couldn’t quite decide which version of you made his heart race more.

“It’s a tough call,” Jude finally said, stepping closer and running a hand along the car’s sleek frame. “I think watching you drive this might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen... but last night? That might be rival it.” You chuckled, shaking your head as you started the engine, the roar of the car filling the garage. 

“Well, if you’re lucky,” you said, giving him a mischievous look, “you’ll get to enjoy both today.” Jude grinned, hopping into the passenger seat. 

“I’m the luckiest guy in France right now.” You eased the car onto the road, the hum of the engine harmonizing with the soft buzz of Paris fading into the distance. As the cityscape gave way to rolling countryside on the route to Burgundy, you glanced over at Jude, smiling as the sunlight began to dance across his skin. His usual golden complexion was now kissed with a warm tint, the soft rays making his features even more striking. Jude sat back in his seat, eyes half-closed, but his senses were fully alive. The sound of the Bugatti was intoxicating, a deep, guttural purr that made him smile almost unconsciously. He tilted his head toward you, still relaxed but obviously impressed. “Alright, I’ll admit it,” he said, glancing at the dashboard, then back at you. “Maybe I really should learn how to drive... this is too good to miss out on.” He told you. You laughed, glancing at him with a playful shake of your head. 

“I’ll help you,” you promised, your voice light. “But don’t get too excited—driving my dad’s car is like being on the final level of a video game. You’re not starting here.” Jude leaned back in his seat with a mock sigh, putting on his most devastatingly cute pout. 

“Really? No Bugatti on my debut?” he teased, his lower lip sticking out just a little. You shot him a quick, amused glance before focusing back on the road. 

“Sorry, baby. Not unless you plan on running before you can walk,” you quipped. Jude chuckled, feigning disappointment but clearly loving the back-and-forth. 

“I’m a fast learner, you know. Maybe I’ll surprise you.” He cooed. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll surprise me in more ways than one,” you teased back, smiling as you settled into the easy rhythm of the drive. The sun continued to rise higher in the sky, casting long, golden beams that bathed the French countryside in a warm, inviting glow. You felt the weight of Jude’s gaze on you, and the freedom of the open road. It was one of those perfect moments, where the world seemed to slow down just enough to let you savor every second. And a few hours later, as the car slowed to a stop on the stone driveway of your family’s château in Burgundy, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. Jude had been calm for most of the drive, but now, sitting beside you, you could feel a slight tension in him. The fields filled with rows and rows of grape alleys framing the massive country home. He adjusted his sunglasses as his eyes scanned the figure standing in front of the grand estate. You could just barely see through the tint of the lenses, his eyes narrowing into a squint. Your mother stood there, as elegant as ever, waiting with a smile that could both warm your heart and send shivers down your spine. Dressed in a sleek, effortlessly chic outfit with a scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, she looked like the epitome of French sophistication. Jude, who had grown used to your descriptions of her, was now seeing her in the flesh, and you could tell he was both intrigued and slightly intimidated. He took a deep breath, then got out of the car, walking around to your side to open the door for you like a true gentleman. You stepped out and he slipped his hand into yours, a subtle gesture of reassurance for both of you. As you approached your mother, you gave her a bright toothy smile, feeling a little giddy introducing Jude to her.

"Maman!" you said warmly, your heart racing just a bit, "this is Jude… my boyfriend." Your mother’s eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight, her perfectly painted lips curving into a wide smile. 

"Oh là là!" she gasped in excitement, her voice spilling over in that typical French fashion. "Enfin! Look at you both!" Before either of you could react, she moved forward, pulling Jude into a hug. For a brief moment, you saw a flicker of shock cross his face—this was not the cool, reserved French mother he had been expecting. But then he quickly recovered, smiling as he embraced her, still slightly taken aback by her warmth. She greeted him in a mix of French and English, her accent flowing effortlessly between the two.

“Enchantée, Jude. Welcome to our home! Oh, you are even more handsome than in the pictures!" Jude blushed slightly, caught off guard by her forwardness, but smiled politely. 

“Thank you. It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m really happy to be here.” He cooed. Your mother waved her hand dismissively, chuckling lightly.

“And we’re happy to have you. Please, call me Amélie." She took a step back, her gaze flitting between you and Jude, taking you both in like she was trying to memorize the moment. When she turned to hug you, she leaned in close.

“He’s much too pretty to let get away, ma chéri. And look at you—so happy. C’est parfait.” Her lips brushed your cheek as she whispered into your ear.  You pulled back, beaming, your heart swelling at her words. Jude squeezed your hand softly, a silent acknowledgment that he had caught the tender exchange between you and your mother.  As you all stood together on the driveway, your mother’s playful teasing and Jude’s slightly overwhelmed but still charmed demeanor filled the air with a warm, light energy. It was both comforting and exhilarating. As you stepped inside the château, Jude seemed to pause for a moment, taking in the atmosphere of the home. It wasn’t the cold, intimidating mansion he might have expected from an affluent French family. Instead, there was a warmth that radiated from the stone walls, softened by the light streaming through the windows. The hallway was lined with family photos—some in ornate frames, others more simple, but all filled with moments of happiness and love. It clicked for Jude in that instant: this wasn’t just a show of wealth or status, this was you—your heart, your memories, your life. Your mum clung to you as you walked through the door, kissing your cheek and holding you tightly as though you hadn’t seen each other in years.

“I missed you, ma chérie,” she said softly, her hand resting on your back as if she was reluctant to let you go. 

"I missed you too, maman." You smiled, returning her embrace Jude watched the exchange, his gaze softening. This wasn’t what he had imagined at all. There was so much genuine connection, so much love here, that any preconceived notions he had of cold, aristocratic families faded away. A part of him mildly confused because he’d heard from not only you but Whitney too that your family life was a bit distant. He was realizing though that that distance seemed to be more one of physicality then emotionality. 

"This place is beautiful," Jude remarked sincerely, his eyes wandering over the rustic but elegant decor—the perfect mix of comfort and class. Your mum smiled appreciatively but waved her hand dismissively again. 

"Merci, Jude. You’re very kind, but it's just a home. A little too big now that it's just me and your papa rattling around. But I’m so glad you like it." As she led you both further into the house, she started chatting away, her excitement spilling over. "I’ll admit Jude, I don’t follow football very closely, but from what I’ve heard around our house, you’ve been very impressive this year.” She then turned to you. “Your brother told me he’s going to be quite the problem for France at the Euros," she added with a teasing smile. Jude laughed, a sound that filled the room, warm and genuine. You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell as the two of them engaged so easily, their laughter melding together in a way that made your chest tighten, but in the best possible way. It was like you were witnessing the beginning of something special, a new chapter of your life that blended the people you loved most.

"I don’t know about that," Jude said modestly, still smiling. "But I’ll definitely do my best as long as it doesn’t ruffle any feathers here. I’d like to be welcomed back." Your mum laughed at his remark and continued to chatter about how Jude was always welcome as long as he looked after you, and how she’d been trying to catch up on football just to understand what all the fuss was about but had kept mum about your relationship to your dad. Jude listened attentively, the warmth of the room making him feel at home in a way he hadn’t expected. And as you stood there, watching him laugh and talk with your mum, you realized this was exactly what you had hoped for. The blending of two worlds you adored—Jude, with his down-to-earth charm, and your family, who had always tried their best to support you despite your unusual circumstances. It was all coming together, more beautifully than you could have imagined.

With too much time to spare before the dinner your mum had told you you’d have in a few hours, you found yourself wandering through the halls of your family’s chateau with Jude, showing him all the bits and bobs as you did back in the city. The house felt calm, almost serene—your mum was busy, and Louis and your dad were nowhere to be seen. Suddenly you had a mischievous glint in your eye as you led Jude further into the house toward your little art studio. It was a glass porch at the vineyard bathed in sunlight, each ray filtering through the vines that twisted along the edges of the windows. The air smelled of fresh earth, paint, and the faintest hint of grapes carried on the breeze. It was the perfect setting, peaceful and intimate, for what you were about to do: teach Jude how to paint.

“You ready for your first painting lesson?” you asked with a playful smile, turning to him. Jude hesitated, his confident demeanor faltering for just a moment. 

“Painting? Ah… I don’t know, angel…. I’m not sure how I’ll actually do at this,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous chuckle escaping him. You giggled, stepping closer to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. You kissed his cheek softly, reassuring him. 

“It’s just for fun, Jude. You don’t have to be good at it, and I promise I’ll go easy on you,” you teased, giving him a soft wink. Jude’s face softened, and he returned your smile, his hands resting comfortably on your hips. 

“Alright, but only if you promise to be gentle with your new student,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “I don’t know if I’m ready for the harsh critique of a professional.” He smiled. 

“You’ll be fine,” you laughed, pulling him along into the studio. “You’re my favorite student anyway.” Inside, the room was filled with light streaming through the large windows, the smell of paint a bit more prominent. You handed Jude a paintbrush and pointed to a canvas you had just set up for him, already grinning at the idea of watching him paint.  As he took the brush in his hand, his brow furrowed with concentration. 

"So, uh, what do I start with?" he asked, looking adorably lost. He stood beside you, an oversized canvas in front of him, looking both eager and slightly nervous. You smiled, amused by how his confidence on the pitch seemed to disappear when faced with a blank canvas. 

“It’s not a match, Jude. There’s no winning or losing here,” you reassured him softly, squeezing his arm as you set down a palette of colors in front of him.

He looked at the array of paints, then at you. Jude exhaled, his gaze flicking between your face and the canvas. “Alright,” he murmured, determined. “So what do I do… seriously?” He asked, feeling ready now despite his apprehension. 

“Anything you want,” you said, standing beside him. “Think of something that makes you happy.”

“Hmm…” Jude bit his lip, eyes narrowing at the blank canvas before him. “I’m drawing a blank, literally because I’m not going to attempt painting you.” He looked at you concerned. Like you might think he was dumb for not knowing but you felt the opposite. You just liked that he was willing to give it a go. You laughed, thinking he was sweet for indirectly saying you made him happy whilst you set up your own canvas. 

“Okay, well. First part is the easiest. We just paint the entire canvas with the gesso so you’re in good shape so far.” You smiled at him sympathetically but with reassurance in your eyes. 

“Gesso? Baby, I need… I need you to talk like I’ve never done this before because… I’ve never done this before.” He laughed at himself. 

“Oh right, right. Sorry. Okay, erm… Gesso primes or okay… like it prepares the canvas to paint. So genuinely just brush the canvas all over. Can’t do it wrong, baby.” You explained to Jude and so he did but meticulously copied the way you dragged the brush on your canvas just to be sure.  

“Now what, angel.” He looked at you proud of himself despite his still essentially blank canvas. You ran your hand over your face with a giggle. 

“I guess we could start with something simple, like what about a landscape? Just some basic shapes or whatever you want! Maybe you’re more of an abstract guy” You giggled. 

“And if I’m neither?” He smirked but you waved him off. After a moment, he dipped his brush into the paint, hesitating before finally dragging it across the canvas. He made his first stroke, a tentative sweep of blue across the canvas. You could feel his concentration, the intensity he usually reserved for football matches now channeled into the strokes of paint. His lines were shaky, like he was thinking too hard,  but he didn’t seem to mind too much. You watched him with a smile, appreciating the effort he was putting in despite his nerves. As the two of you painted side by side, the room filled with easy laughter. Jude would glance over at your work, pretending to be jealous of how effortlessly you created shapes and colors. “How do you make it look so easy?” he asked, a playful whine in his voice.

“Years of practice, baby. You’ll get there. Stick with me.” You smirked. Jude rolled his eyes dramatically but smiled, clearly enjoying the process more than he expected.  

“Trust me… that’s the plan, angel.” He smiled. You stood close, watching as he started to relax, his strokes becoming more confident. The sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a golden glow over both of you. You worked for a little while like that getting further into the paintings. You continued to paint side by side, lost in the moment, the world outside disappearing as the colors on the canvas began to take shape. “You know, I might just be the best student you’ve ever had.” He beamed looking at his own canvas. 

“Bold claim,” you teased, reaching over to pinch at his arm.  

“Hey!” He yelped, chastising you with feigned anger. “Don’t mess with my work please. Keep your hands to yourself.” He broke into a slight laugh at the tail end of his sentence, unable to hold onto his farce. 

“Alright, sorry! Sorry! Hands to myself. I got it.” You raised an eyebrow and both hands, trying not to laugh.

“Well… just well I work, angel. When I’m done… rules change.” He smirked.  Jude paused looking at his canvas again, then with a grin, he added a little stick figure to his landscape. “That’s me,” he said proudly. “Look at me, blending into nature.”

“A real masterpiece,” you declared, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re really a natural.” You fell into a sweet laugh, unable to hold it in. 

“You know, it’s more fun than I thought,” he admitted. “Especially with you here.” Jude smiled, the warmth in his eyes making your heart swell. As the evening sun started to set outside, the two of you continued to paint, the time slipping away in each other’s company. You realized that this moment, teaching Jude to paint in your family’s chateau, was one you’d hold on to forever—a quiet, intimate memory of just the two of you. It was turning out not to be a bad first day as his girlfriend. You gently reached for another brush, dipping it in green, and made a sweeping motion on your own canvas. 

“See?” you said, nodding towards your own strokes. “It’s just meant to be fun.” You smiled implying his worries before were unnecessary. Jude turned to look at your work, his eyes softening as he watched you. There was something in the way you moved, how natural it was for you to create something beautiful. He admired you, of course, but this was different. He felt like he was seeing a side of you that was so deeply personal. 

“You make it look so easy,” he murmured, his voice low with admiration. You smiled, moving to step behind him. You wrapped your arms gently around his waist. 

“It’s not about easy. It’s about feeling.” You rested your chin on his shoulder, guiding his hand again as he made another stroke. “Like how hard are you really thinking when you strike a ball? You’re not. It’s instinctual. You know how to do it. It’s just a feeling. Comfort and confidence and maybe a bit of bravery” You told him as you reached over to your own canvas making a dramatic line on your painting. You watched Jude’s eyes go wide momentarily, nervous that you’d messed it all up but then he tilted his head seeing that somehow it looked better that way. 

“I like that. That’s exactly how I feel about footie. Comfort and confidence… bit of bravery.” He cooed. But then Jude paused, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his back, the scent of you mingling with the fresh air and the sweet scent of the chateau. He turned his head slightly, his cheek brushing against yours. “You know, I’ve never seen you so in your element. It’s... beautiful,” he whispered. You blushed, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. 

“No one’s ever really cared about this stuff before… You know things I actually like or  my process,” you admitted softly, the vulnerability in your words catching you off guard. “Like I told you… everyone just always wants to see the end result.” Jude’s hand moved to rest over yours, still holding the brush. 

“I care,” he said quietly. “I want to see everything.” For a moment, you both stood there in the sunlit porch, surrounded by the quiet of the vineyard, the only sounds being the gentle strokes of paint and the soft rustling of the vines outside. There was something incredibly intimate about it, sharing this creative space with him. It was as if he was seeing you in a way no one else ever had. You glanced at Jude, who was so focused now, a small smile on his lips as he worked. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but that wasn’t the point. It was raw, honest, and beautiful, just like the two of you. Jude stepped back momentarily, looking at his creation with a mix of pride and amusement to inspect his current progress. “I don’t know what it is, but I like it,” he said with a grin.

“It’s you,” you said softly. “It’s yours. And it’s beautiful.” You laughed, stepping next to him and taking in the colorful swirls and lines.  He turned to you, his eyes softening as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice full of meaning. “Thank you for sharing this with me.” You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of the sun and the weight of his words. In that moment, surrounded by paint, sunlight, and love, everything felt perfect. You both returned to your paintings. You were focused, completely immersed in yours, but you could feel Jude's eyes on you, studying you. The brush in your hand moved effortlessly over the canvas, but your mind kept drifting back to the way he was watching you-his gaze soft, affectionate, and admiring.

"Do you need something?" you asked teasingly, without turning around, coughing slightly to hide your fluster. You could feel his stare like a gentle weight.

"Feels a bit backwards when the artist is more beautiful than the art." Jude chuckled, his voice low and warm. You grinned but raised an eyebrow in mock offense, finally turning to face him.

"So you don't like my work?” He rolled his eyes playfully, letting out a dramatic sigh. 

"I didn't say that." He quipped. You laughed, returning your focus to the canvas, but you could still feel him watching. A few more strokes of the brush, and suddenly you felt something cool and wet on your skin.

"Oh my god!!" You looked down to see a streak of light blue acrylic paint smeared across your exposed stomach. Your mouth dropped open in shock, quickly followed by a giggle as you saw Jude standing there, his brush in hand, grinning like a child who had just gotten away with something mischievous. "Jude!" you exclaimed, giving him a mock-glare. He simply shrugged, that playful gleam in his eyes, knowing full well what he'd done. Without missing a beat, you dipped your brush in paint and lunged toward him, but he was quicker. Dodging your attempts, the two of you fell into a childish chase around the studio, laughing like carefree kids. After a few near misses and lots of laughter, Jude managed to dodge you one last time, spinning around to wrap you up in his arms, trapping you. 

"Got ya.” He laughed, kissing your neck. “Maybe I need to teach you a few things. You’re slow, angel" he teased, pressing kisses all over your face and neck, his lips gentle yet full of playful affection.Your giggles echoed around the room as you squirmed in his grasp, unable to resist the joy of the moment. 

"Okay, okay, you win!" you conceded between laughs, still trying to catch your breath. He slowed his playful assault, his lips lingering near your ear. 

"Go ahead. I'll let you get me back." He whispered. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, feeling the shift in the air between you. You dipped your brush back into the white paint you were using, your hand trembling slightly, and with a slow, deliberate motion, you dragged the brush across his sharp jawline. The white paint was stark against his rich skin, the contrast making the moment feel charged, electric. Jude's eyes darkened, his playful grin fading into something more intense as he felt the brush glide over his face. He grabbed your hand, the one holding the brush, stilling your movement as his grip tightened ever so slightly. In one fluid motion, he pulled you into him, crashing his lips onto yours in a kiss that sent sparks through your entire body.

The kiss was deep, consuming. His hand came up to cup your face, the other still holding yours, as if anchoring you to him in that moment. You could feel his heartbeat thudding against your chest, and you responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, your body melting into his. The room, the paint, the canvas-it all faded into the background as you lost yourself in him. Every kiss was a new breath, every touch igniting a deeper connection. When you finally pulled away, gasping for air, you both stood there, staring at each other with that same fire in your eyes, the room charged with an unspoken understanding.

"You might've just made me love painting." He whispered again. Jude smirked, his lips brushing yours one last time.  You and Jude were giggling in the sun-drenched room, basking in the easy, playful intimacy of the moment when suddenly, the sound of a door slamming shut echoed through the house. Your heart jumped. You knew that sound well. Only one person entered the house with that kind of unannounced energy—your brother, Louis.

"Merde..." you muttered, already anticipating the whirlwind that was about to hit.  Louis was amazing but you were stuck with fear of introducing your boyfriend to your older brother. You moved to gently wipe the paint off Jude’s face before you led him into the massive farmhouse kitchen, where Louis was standing, tossing his keys onto the counter and immediately launching into rapid-fire French, his voice filled with warmth, jokes, and the unmistakable undertone of how much he had missed you. You exchanged back, just as fast, your words filled with sibling banter. Jude watched, trying to follow the conversation, his eyes flitting between you and Louis, clearly amused by the lively exchange.

“Ah! J'ai finalement décidé de rentrer à la maison!”  [Ah! Finally decided to come home] You know, you promised you would about five months ago, sœurette” [little sister] Louis teased, slamming the fridge door shut with one hand and grabbing a baguette with the other. You rolled your eyes, smiling.

 “Oui, oui, oui but I’m here now, no?” You shot back, playfully nudging Jude, who was watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement. Louis’ grin widened as he finally took in his surroundings and noticed Jude for the first time, his brows shooting up in exaggerated surprise. 

“Je n'y crois pas!” [i don't believe it] He cut himself off, switching to English for Jude’s sake, his tone now playful but dramatic. “Nah, no way. Jude Bellingham? What the fuck?” Louis laughed at the insanity of Jude’s presence. To say Louis followed football would be an understatement. “Ouah, you can’t possibly be interested in this.” Referring to you as ‘this.’ Louis laughed again throwing a torn piece of bread at you playfully. You shook your head, already bracing for the inevitable teasing. 

“Oh, tais-toi!” [shut up] you groaned, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. Louis walked over, extending his hand to Jude, his extroverted personality taking over instantly.

“Mon dieu man, this is wild. What are you doing here, mate? What a pleasure.” He grinned at you mischievously before adding, “Can’t believe you’re with Y/N. She was a nightmare growing up, you know.” Jude laughed, shaking his hand firmly. 

“Yeah, she hasn’t changed much,” he joked back, throwing you a playful look. “Nah, pleasure’s mine though. Just here as Y/N’s boyfriend.” Jude smiled. 

“Excuse me, I’m a delight. Not having that from either of you.” You gasped mockingly, crossing your arms. “But yeah, Louis, this is Jude, my boyfriend.” You smiled proudly. Louis raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’re a delight now, but when we were kids? Let’s just say there’s a reason we needed two nannies,” he quipped, glancing at Jude with a conspiratorial grin.You rolled your eyes dramatically. You weren’t troublesome, Louis was being dramatic just to get a rise out of you. 

“Louis, s'il te plaît.” You whined. Louis laughed heartily before his expression turned more curious, glancing between the two of you. 

“But seriously… Does Dad know about this?” He tilted his head slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck, knowing this was coming. 

“Not yet. But let me guess—you’re going to have a field day telling him, aren’t you?” You gave him a pleading look. Begging your big brother not to do just that.  Louis grinned, not even attempting to hide his glee.

“Oh, you know me too well. I can’t wait to see his face.” Louis laughed. If Louis was into football, your dad was football. He lived for it. 

“Sounds like I’m in for a big introduction.” Jude chuckled but looked at you with a slightly raised brow. You should’ve prepared Jude but you figured his naiveness would be to his benefit and cute to watch. 

“Okay, okay… enough. Arrêt, Lou.” You sighed, playfully punching Louis in the arm. “Papa will love him. You’re just unnecessarily going to scare him and he’ll leave.” Jude smiled, his hand finding yours as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

“I’m not going anywhere, angel” he said softly, and even Louis, for a moment, seemed to catch the sincerity in Jude’s voice. 

You all moved to find yourselves in the glow of evening filtered through the tall windows of one of the lounges at the chateau, casting a warm light across the room’s rich wooden floors and plush furnishings. You sat comfortably beside Jude on a velvet couch, your fingers lazily intertwined with his, while your mother and Louis were seated across from you, each with a glass of aperitif in hand. The air was light with the scent of lavender and rosemary drifting in from the garden outside, mixing with the faint notes of the citrusy aperitifs your mother had prepared. Small plates of olives, almonds, and crisps sat on the low table between you all, each bite meant to tease the appetite before the family dinner to come. Your mother, elegantly dressed in a soft linen blouse, leaned back in her chair with a contented smile, clearly pleased to have her family gathered around, and perhaps a little more delighted that you had brought Jude to meet them. Louis, always the charmer, had been deep in conversation with Jude, discussing football and casually teasing him about adjusting to French wine. Jude, ever polite and easygoing, held his glass in one hand, the other gently resting on your knee still intertwined with yours. He was relaxed now, having settled into the rhythm of the conversation, his usual confidence shining through in the way he spoke with your family, even though you could tell he was trying to be on his best behavior. His laugh blended smoothly into the room, warm and genuine, as Louis made a playful remark.

“I’ll admit,” your mother said, raising her glass slightly toward Jude, “I wasn’t sure if ma petite fille was ever going to bring someone here. But I’m glad it’s you.” Her tone was soft but sincere, and she gave you a knowing smile. Jude glanced at you, squeezing your hand before smiling back at your mum.

“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’m lucky I got to be the one she brought. But I'm just happy to be here. It’s… beautiful,” he said, his eyes briefly sweeping over the room, then out toward the sprawling grounds beyond the French doors. You could feel his nerves slipping away with every sip of the chilled aperitif, the bubbles dancing on his tongue. He was fitting in seamlessly, but you knew it meant a lot to him to make a good impression.

“And I have to say,” Louis added, swirling his drink with an appreciative look, “you picked a good vintage, Jude.”  He smirked. Your mum had shown Jude one of the wine cellars off the kitchen and offered him the opportunity to pick a wine to start with. You stood next to him and coyly pointed at a bottle with a wink.  

“Honestly, I just follow her lead when it comes to wine.” Jude chuckled, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. 

“Oh mate, don’t do that.” Louis quipped. You’re mum swatted at Louis to be nice.  The room filled with soft laughter, the atmosphere light and welcoming. You leaned into Jude, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt. It all felt so easy, so right, sitting there with him beside you, your family around you, the peacefulness of the chateau wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. As the conversation carried on, you caught your mum stealing glances at you both, her eyes gleaming with approval and happiness. You could tell she was happy to see you this way, with someone who made you feel at ease, someone who seemed to love you as deeply as you deserved. After Jude had charmed your family over pre-dinner drinks, he excused himself to use the bathroom, leaving you and your brother Louis alone in the room. The warm glow of candlelight bathed the room, the quiet chatter of your mum to the chefs drifting in from the kitchen. You took a sip of wine, savoring the calm before dinner.

"I need to talk to you about something." Louis, usually relaxed and easygoing, leaned in closer, his voice dropping slightly. 

"About what?" You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. 

"About Jude," he said, his gaze serious.

"What about him?" You straightened in your chair, frowning. The casual atmosphere you’d been enjoying moments before seemed to evaporate.  Louis rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable, before glancing toward the hallway where Jude had disappeared. 

"I just... Are you sure about him? About bringing him here?" A wave of confusion rolled over you. 

"I wouldn’t have brought him if I wasn’t sure," you replied, your voice firm but puzzled. Louis had seemed fine with Jude earlier. In fact, they’d hit it off well, talking about football, French wines, and even exchanging a few laughs over stupid boy stuff. So why the sudden shift?

"I mean... there are other people, you know? People who’d be better suited for you." Louis sighed, leaning back in his chair, his brows knitting together. Your frown deepened. 

"What are you talking about?" The knot in your stomach tightened as his words sank in. It was rare for Louis to make a comment about a boy you’d see. It was a rarity for you to have a boyfriend in general. And it was completely uncharted for you to bring one home so this took you by surprise considering Louis knew how important Jude must’ve been to you if you were brining him home. 

"Someone like Gabriel. He’s from around here, from a good family. He could still give you what you want. You two would make sense. You’d fit." Louis shifted again, clearly struggling with how to phrase what he wanted to say. “Like if you want to settle down or whatever, maybe someone like that makes more sense for you.” He looked at you almost pleadingly.

"Gabriel? Are you serious?" You couldn’t help the disbelief that laced your tone. You stared at him, incredulous. Gabriel? The aristocratic boy you’d barely known, who only appeared at family gatherings to talk about business and vineyards? The boy who had a stick up his ass and told you going out was ‘beneath him.’ You hadn’t even exchanged more than a few words with him after that.  

"He’s stable. You know what you're getting with someone like him. He’s not... like Jude." Louis looked at you with an unwavering seriousness that you hadn’t expected.

"What do you mean, ‘like Jude’? What’s wrong with Jude? Louis… he’s my boyfriend. What the fuck?" You couldn’t hold back the frustration bubbling inside you. 

"It’s not that there’s something wrong with him," Louis said, his tone measured. "But his life is... different. Fast. Unpredictable. Guys like him are surrounded by people who want a piece of them, and I just don’t want you to get caught up in something that could hurt you." You stared at Louis, taken aback. It wasn’t like him to voice such concerns so bluntly, especially not about someone you cared about. 

"I don’t understand. You seemed to like him before," you said slowly, trying to make sense of his sudden caution. "You were getting along with him earlier. What changed?"

"I do like him," he admitted. "He’s great, honestly. But his lifestyle… that’s the problem." Louis looked conflicted, running a hand through his hair as if searching for the right words.

"What’s the problem?" You tilted your head, confused. Louis leaned forward slightly, his expression softening but his words still heavy. It felt a bit hypocritical. You access to the luxuries of life were equally on par with what Jude had in reach. You and Louis probably had been a bit more reckless with them to be honest. 

"Look ma chéri. You’ve always been careful with who you let in. You’ve never brought someone home, and that’s why I’m worried. Because guys like Jude... they live in a world where everything is magnified. The fame, the pressure, the temptation. I’ve seen it with friends. One minute everything’s fine, the next... things fall apart." He explained. 

"So, what? You think I can’t handle it?" Your chest tightened, your heartbeat quickening. Louis had always been protective, but this felt different, more personal. Suddenly you felt much younger than you were. 

"It’s not about you," he said quickly. "I know you’re strong, and I know you’re smart. But that doesn’t mean you’re immune to getting hurt." You felt a swell of frustration, and maybe even that hurt, building inside you. 

"Louis, I’m not naïve. I know what Jude’s life is like. I’ve seen it. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to hurt me." You quipped. Louis looked at you, his eyes softening with concern. 

"I know you’re not naïve. But you’re also not invincible." The silence between you felt heavy, the warmth of the room suddenly suffocating. You hadn’t expected this kind of resistance from Louis, not when he’d been so welcoming earlier. 

"Jude’s not some reckless celebrity, Louis. He’s kind, he’s respectful, and he’s been nothing but good to me." And as you said those words, you realized they weren’t all that true. Jude’s life had caused issues. It’d hurt you before you were even his girlfriend. 

"I’m not saying he’s not," Louis said quietly. "I’m just saying... his world is different from yours. And I don’t want you to lose yourself in it." He explained further. Your shoulders dropped slightly as the weight of his words sank in. Louis had always been a rock for you, a protector, but this felt like he was questioning your judgment and frankly, you began to question yours as well.  And it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

"Louis, stop." you said, your voice quieter now, "Jude is someone I care about. He’s not just some fling. I wouldn’t be with him if I didn’t think he was worth it." You cooed. 

"I know," he said, his tone gentler. "I know you wouldn’t. The thing is, it’s not about him being worth it, Y/N. It’s about it being right for you." Louis’s face softened further, the lines of tension easing. The sound of the bathroom door opening broke the tension, and you both turned to see Jude walking back into the room, his expression relaxed and unaware of the conversation that had just taken place. He smiled at you, his presence instantly easing the tension in your chest. Louis straightened up, offering Jude a smile as he returned to his seat. But as Jude took your hand, you couldn’t shake the lingering weight of your brother’s words.

As the dinner began, the waitstaff meticulously placed each plate of French cuisine before you and your family. Jude shot you a questioning glance, clearly trying to navigate the formality of the moment, which stood in such contrast to the warm and easy vibe your family had at home. You smiled reassuringly, squeezing his hand under the table, grounding him. The conversation meandered lightly, your mum asking Jude small but thoughtful questions — about Madrid, his career, his family, and how he found France. He answered politely, though you could see the slight tension in his shoulders. It was the first dinner with your family, and while the atmosphere was relaxed, there was an undeniable pressure that Jude felt. This wasn’t just anyone’s family — this was your family. Just as a server refilled the wine glasses, the unmistakable sound of the door opening echoed through the room. Your heart leapt at the familiar noise of footsteps. 

"Papa!" you exclaimed, jumping up from your seat as your father finally appeared, fashionably late as usual. Everyone watched with soft smiles as you dashed to greet him, exchanging rapid French in your usual excited manner. He was a man of presence, even when absent for stretches at a time, and that made you cherish the moments with him even more. You hugged him tightly, his cologne bringing back a wave of nostalgia. After exchanging a few words, you pulled back, eyes twinkling. "Papa, I want you to meet someone very important." Jude had already stood up as you turned, and the tall figure of your boyfriend made his way to the center of the room. As he approached, your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, the natural reaction of a father seeing his daughter’s suitor up close for the first time. You noticed the brief scrutiny, the protective instinct rising to the surface. But then, something shifted.

"Well, well... what is the Golden Boy doing in my house?" he said, his deep French accent adding weight to the teasing tone. Your dad's lips twitched, and a glint of recognition sparked in his eyes as they widened ever so slightly. He glanced back at you, then to Jude. Your heart skipped a beat as the nickname, tied to Jude's win of the prestigious Golden Boy award, rolled off your father’s tongue. Jude had made headlines across Europe for the honor, and you hadn’t fully realized until this moment that your dad, though rarely detached from football, was fully aware of Jude's reputation.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Jude Bellingham." Ever poised, he extended his hand with a warm smile. Your father grasped his hand firmly, but the narrowed look had given way to a more playful one. He clapped his free hand on Jude’s shoulder, giving him an approving look. 

"Ah, the pleasure is mine. You’ve come here with Y/N?" he said, the warmth creeping into his voice. Jude gave him a sincere ‘yes.’ As much as you loved your dad… he was in and out of your life, busy always. He couldn’t remember if he knew if Jude was a potential friend of Louis but your introduction had him feeling otherwise but nevertheless he wasn’t thrilled about his little girl bringing a boy home but it being Jude was slightly redeeming. "But to have the Golden Boy in my house... well, what a treat." Jude laughed, his usual confidence coming back full force, though you could sense the bashfulness underneath. 

"I’m sure you’ve had bigger names through these doors than me." Jude cooed. You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Jude’s ease around people would always be attractive. Your dad waved off the modesty, turning to your mum. 

"He’s being humble. This one’s going to give France problems next year, you’ll see, poulette." He cooed as your dad moved to go give your mum a kiss. You stifled a laugh as you glanced at Jude, whose cheeks flushed just slightly. There was something about your father’s approval that seemed to lift the weight off his shoulders. The nerves Jude had been carrying all evening seemed to dissolve with that single statement.

"I can only hope I have a good tournament. But Y/N’s been kind enough to invite me here…" Jude continued, his eyes softening as he turned to you. "kind enough to let me be her boyfriend and invite me here." Jude explained with a sly smirk. Your breath caught at his admission. Your father raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between the two of you before settling on you with an affectionate smile. 

"Ah, so that’s how it is." He gave Jude another inspecting glance now knowing he was officially a boyfriend. "You better treat her well, or I’ll be coming after you."

"I wouldn’t dream of doing anything less, sir." Jude chuckled nervously. There was something that felt terrifyingly real about the subtle threat. You took a deep breath but the playful exchange filled you with warmth. 

"I think you’re winning him over." You whispered, leaning into Jude.

"I hope so," Jude murmured, smiling down at you. Just then, Louis, who had been silently observing the whole scene from his seat, rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. 

“Ouah, c'est tellement incroyable d'avoir le golden boy avec nous.” [it’s so amazing to have the golden boy with us.] he muttered in full french leaving Jude following nothing but the fact that it was about him. Louis shook his head with a grin that suggested he wasn’t surprised by the swift approval your dad had given Jude. "Mais Bien sûr, [but of course]  it’s the Golden Boy, Papa for your golden girl"  he teased, though there was no malice in his tone, it was weighted. Louis believed your dad favored you, and maybe it was true but also, now that he’d told you his apprehension about the relationship it felt more poignant. 

"Ah Louis,  la jalousie ne te va pas?" [Ah Louis, jealousy doesn't suit you] A smirk played on your dad’s lips as he took his seat at the head of the table. Your dad, catching on to Louis’ reaction, chuckled.

"Not jealous, just... surprised how fast this is going." Louis shook his head, giving you a pointed look. You gave him a look that said ‘we’ll talk later,’ but couldn’t help the way your anxiety was spiking at the whole situation. Jude seemed to take it all in stride, unfazed by Louis’ remark. He slipped his arm around your waist, drawing you closer as everyone returned to their seats. As the conversation continued, you noticed your mother giving you a nod of approval, clearly impressed with how Jude had handled himself. She had been watching the whole exchange closely, and the ease with which Jude fit into the family dynamic seemed to win her over too.

"You've done well, sweetheart," she whispered to you in French as the meal continued. You smiled, your heart swelling with the knowledge that your family had welcomed Jude, even Louis at least on the surface. Dinner was a whirlwind of stories, old inside jokes, and names of people Jude had never heard before. He spent most of the meal catching up, his eyes darting between family members as he tried to follow the decades-old family stories being shared. Conversations would slip in and out of French, and you'd have to quietly translate for him, but Jude handled it all with ease. You admired how quickly he picked up on the rhythm of your family, offering smiles, laughs, and even thoughtful questions at just the right moments. It hurt you though that he was blissfully unaware Louis wasn’t exactly thrilled about the pairing. And so, after dessert, the meal wound down, and you offered to help your mum in the kitchen. Jude, ever the gentleman, asked if he could help too, but before you could answer, your dad interjected, extending a hand toward Jude. 

"Why don't you join us outside instead, Jude? Louis and I were about to have a chat. You can tell us about your plans for the Euos so I can tell Didier." You shot Jude a reassuring glance, knowing this was your dad's way of bringing him into the fold. Jude hesitated briefly, but when your dad clapped him on the back and Louis stood up, he gave you a quick smile and followed them out. Jude’s brow did furrow momentarily trying to figure out if your dad actually knew Didier Deschamps or if it was a joke but nevertheless he went. You let him keep wondering. Your mum smiled at the scene, her eyes following Jude and your father. 

“He’s doing well,” she mused as you both headed into the kitchen. The staff was already cleaning up, so you and your mum leaned against the counter, glasses of wine in hand, taking the moment to catch up on gossip. She gushed about how happy you looked, how she thought Jude was handsome and polite, and how your dad seemed quite taken with him. “He fits,” she said simply, and you couldn’t help but smile. It made you feel better that she thought so, despite Louis’ hesitancy. The kitchen was cozy, filled with the warmth of your mother’s approval and the soft hum of conversation from the dining room staff. But you couldn’t shake the conversation from earlier in your mind, your heart heavy with the knowledge that Louis’ doubts had struck a chord in you. Outside, however, the atmosphere was a little different. Jude, your father, and Louis sat on the terrace, surrounded by the soft night air. Your dad had offered cigars, but Jude politely declined, opting to sit back and enjoy the conversation instead. Football, of course, dominated the talk. Your dad was in his element, relaying old stories of his favorite French teams and players. Louis joined in, discussing the upcoming Euros, analyzing team strategies and player potentials. Jude laughed easily, offering his own insights when asked, and it warmed your heart every time you heard his laughter drift back into the house. The scene outside seemed like a perfect integration of your two worlds — the man you loved fitting seamlessly into the family you cherished. But after a while, your father excused himself. He came back into the house to find you, his eyes softening when they landed on you. 

“I’ve missed you, ma chérie,” he said softly, pulling you into a hug. There was always something about your father’s presence that made you feel like a little girl again, like everything was safe and secure. Unfortunately tonight, thanks to your brother you felt more like one then ever. You chatted with your dad for a while, catching up on life and Jude, but you couldn’t help but wonder how things were going outside now that he had left Jude alone with Louis.

Back on the terrace, the dynamic between Jude and Louis had shifted. Louis, who had been quieter than usual for most of the conversation with your dad, now seemed to study Jude more intently. The easy laughter from earlier faded into a more measured silence.

"You’re a good player," Louis finally said, his tone neutral but not as warm as before. “Use you on FIFA all the time, bro.” Jude smiled, a bit unsure of where this was heading, but still polite. 

"Yeah? Thanks, mate.” Jude responded. Louis shifted in his chair, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, his expression darker and more intense than Jude had seen all night. The laughter and easygoing conversation of earlier felt distant now, like it had been replaced with something far more serious.

"Listen," Louis started again, his voice low and deliberate. "I’m sure you’re a good guy. My parents, they love a charming guy, especially one that’s got Y/N actually smiling, and not the bullshit facade she’s usually got on and they’ll see that. They’ll invite you in, make you feel like family. But they don’t know you like I do. They don’t see the whole picture." He paused, his eyes locked on Jude’s, and the weight of his words hung in the air. Jude’s smile faltered, his heart sinking as the atmosphere shifted. For the past hour, he had felt like he was doing everything right—getting along with your dad, sharing stories, even earning a few laughs. But now, the warmth had drained from the evening, replaced by an unsettling tension. 

"I don’t understand," Jude said slowly, trying to keep his voice steady. "Why is that a bad thing? I want them to like me. I want them to accept me because I love her. Isn’t that the point?" Jude questioned. Louis’s gaze didn’t waver. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. 

"You don’t get it, bro, do you? It’s not about them liking you. It’s not even about Y/N liking you. Hell, she says she’s in love with you but what it’s really about? It’s really about you being good for her. And I’m not sure you are." Jude blinked, stunned by Louis’ bluntness. 

 "I care about her—she’s everything to me. Why would I—" Jude began to waffle in a panic. 

"That’s not enough." Louis’s tone was sharper now, more forceful. "You don’t know what you’re getting into. You don’t know her like I do. She’s tough, but she’s so sensitive. And I don’t think you can give her the type of dedication she deserves, bro." Jude’s mouth went dry. He hadn’t expected this. Not from Louis, who had seemed friendly enough at first, even laughing and joking with him earlier. But now, it was as if a wall had gone up between them, and Jude wasn’t sure how to climb over it. “Think of your schedule alone. You’re in and out of Madrid 9 months out of the year and then on international duties in the summer. Do you really have the time to care about her life then?” Louis snapped again. Jude’s heart sank. He wanted to rebuttal. Unfortunately as much as he disagreed, there was truth in what your brother was saying. He physically couldn’t be with you as much as he’d want to be. Louis shifted his chair again, the metal scraping loudly against the patio stones. The sound echoed in the quiet night, making the tension between them even more palpable. He leaned forward, his expression hard. "I’m going to be straight with you, Jude. You’re going to hurt her. You might not mean to, but you will. And when that happens, I’ll have to hurt you." Jude’s stomach dropped, a sickening twist of dread tightening in his chest. This was the second threat of the night. He had heard threats before, hell, he’d heard one from your dad mere hours ago but this was different. Louis wasn’t angry or aggressive—he was calm, almost resigned. That made it worse. "I don’t want it to come to that," Louis continued, his voice quieter now but no less menacing. "I like you. I really do. I told you, I even use you on FIFA, so trust me, I don’t want to hurt you. But if it comes down to protecting her? I will." Jude was an older brother so he understood mildly but he didn’t feel the need to protect Jobe in the way Louis felt the need to with you. Jude was speechless. He had no idea what to say. The threat wasn’t violent, but it carried the weight of someone who had been protecting you for years and wasn’t about to stop now. He opened his mouth, trying to find the right words, but they wouldn’t come. For a moment, all he could do was sit there, stunned and unsure of how to respond. Jude sighed, leaning back in his chair, running his hand over his hair. It was clear to him now that Louis was one of the few people in your life who saw beyond the exterior, someone who knew you for who you really were—vulnerable, strong, but more delicate than anyone else could ever truly grasp. That realization only added to the weight on his shoulders. Jude wanted to get this right, and it wasn’t just about convincing Louis—it was about showing him that he knew what he had with you was rare. He looked at Louis, trying to figure out where to start. This was unfamiliar territory for Jude, opening up to someone who wasn’t you, especially about something this personal. Finally, he found his voice. 

"Listen," Jude began cautiously, his voice quieter than usual. "I’ve messed up before with Y/N. I don’t know if you know that yet but I know that I have. I thought being ‘Jude Bellingham’—the footballer, the guy everyone sees on TV—was more important than being her Jude." His eyes met Louis’s, trying to gauge his reaction. Louis raised an eyebrow, his arms still crossed over his chest, not looking entirely convinced.

"And how exactly is this supposed to make me feel better?" he shot back, not unkindly but still guarded. Jude took a deep breath, holding up a hand. 

"Just… just give me a minute here mate, okay?" He paused, collecting his thoughts, before continuing. "What I’m trying to say is—I can’t breathe without her, man. I mean, I don’t know if you’ve see my performances the last month but it’s because of her. I can’t think straight without her." He chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. "I’m a mess without her. I had to go get her in New York. It wasn’t a choice. It was a necessity. I really really fucking love her.” Jude sounded desperate.  Louis’s expression softened ever so slightly feeling almost a pity for Jude but his guard was still firmly in place. "I know I’m not… I’m not worthy of her time," Jude admitted, his voice dropping as he spoke. "I’m just grateful she let me matter at all. I get what she means to you, Louis. And I’m not trying to mess up how much you take care of her. I just— I want to be there maybe in those ways you can’t be" He hesitated for a moment, unsure if his next words would land right. “I… The thing is….” He tried to think of the only comparison he could, something that would make sense in his world. "She’s… she’s like my World Cup. The thing that, if I win her,  it’ll be like I’ve done something that actually matters. My life would feel complete." But before Jude could continue, Louis cut in, his face finally cracking into a small smirk.

"Alright, alright, no need to go that far," he said, holding up a hand. "She’s great, but she’s not that great." Louis smirked. Jude laughed softly, feeling a weight lift from the conversation, even if just a little. He glanced at Louis, his expression earnest. 

"She might be, though," Jude said, the sincerity in his tone evident. Louis leaned back in his chair, a long exhale escaping his lips. He still didn’t fully trust Jude—how could he?—but for the first time, he could see that Jude was genuinely trying. There was something raw in the way he spoke about you, something that felt real. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to let his guard down, if only slightly. 

"Look," Louis finally said, after a long moment of silence. "I don’t expect you to be perfect. Hell, I don’t expect anyone to be perfect. But if you’re really serious about this, about her, then you need to prove it. Not to me, you don’t owe me shit. You’ll know I hate you if you don’t prove it but really, I mean to her. Because the second you mess up again, Jude… I won’t be easy to convince  because you haven’t really convinced me now." 

“You wouldn’t have even known if I hadn't told you. That’s how sure I am. I won’t, Louis. But I get it.” Jude sheepishly smiled with a nod, swallowing hard. “I’ll prove it.” He meant every word. He had to. Louis gave Jude a firm slap on the back before heading inside. Jude stood there for a second, gathering himself after the unexpectedly intense conversation. As Louis walked through the doorway, your dad looked up at him, his brow raised inquisitively, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

"Qu’est-ce que tu lui as dit?"  [What did you say to him] Your dad asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity. Louis smirked, leaning against the doorframe. 

"Papa, someone had to scare the kid," he replied, shrugging as though it was the most natural thing in the world. "Clearly, you weren’t going to do it." Then, with a grin, he exaggerated his voice, mocking your dad’s earlier words with an even thicker French accent, 'Ah, tu vas être un problème à l'Euros' mimicking the way your dad had praised Jude earlier. [Ah, *you are going to be a problem at the Euros*,] You caught the words, and your heart skipped a beat. What had Louis said to Jude out there? You never brought anyone to your family’s chateau, and now you were worried—what if Jude had been put off? You tried to catch Louis’s eyes, but he just gave you a smug little smile, clearly enjoying having rattled both of you a bit. You shifted in your seat, glancing towards the door anxiously, your mind spinning. What if Jude was ready to leave? What if Louis had gone too far? You couldn’t bear the thought of losing the warm, comfortable connection you had brought with you from Paris to here. But then Jude walked back in, casually carrying the glasses that had been left outside. His face was calm, his expression soft. He looked... fine. Better than fine, actually. He flashed you a wink as he handed the glasses to your mum, who immediately melted at his thoughtfulness.

"Oh, Jude, mon cherie," your mum cooed, taking the glasses from him. She leaned in, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I love you already!" she declared to the room, her tone light and cheerful. She was clearly charmed, and you couldn’t help but smile, a little of the tension easing from your body. Jude grinned, a bit bashful, but still managing to take it all in stride. He seemed completely unfazed, as though whatever Louis had said outside hadn’t shaken him at all.  You pouted at him, half-jokingly, but also just a little bit out of concern, wondering if everything was truly alright. He caught your expression and leaned over, giving you another playful wink, as if to say, Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Louis, standing off to the side, crossed his arms with a smug smile, clearly impressed by Jude’s resolve. Despite his earlier attempt to rattle him, Jude had handled the situation well. He hadn’t been scared off—he’d stuck it out. And though Louis would never admit it outright, that had earned Jude a bit of respect. For now, anyway. With the evening settling back into its rhythm, you exhaled softly, feeling a new wave of warmth toward Jude. He wasn’t just enduring the challenges of your world—he was embracing them. As the house quieted down, the echoes of laughter and conversation fading into the stone walls, you and Jude stayed behind in the warm, dimly lit kitchen. The remnants of dinner were cleared away, leaving only the soft glow of the old chandelier and the subtle clinking of glasses as Jude filled a cup of water. You watched him, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment, the coziness of the chateau wrapping around you both.

“Thank you for coming,” you whispered. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you walked up behind him, slipping your arms around his waist and resting your cheek against his back.

“You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to be here, angel.” Jude turned his head slightly, glancing back at you with a soft smile.

“I mean, my family is a lot. I’m sorry if it was too much. Louis… can be… He just cares. Sorry.” You apologized. You felt a twinge of embarrassment bubbling up. Jude shook his head, setting down the glass and turning around in your arms to face you. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you in a little closer. 

“You’re my girlfriend. It could never be too much,” he said, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t worry about Louis. Besides, we still have to tell Jobe. That’s gonna be fun.” You laughed at the mention of his younger brother, remembering the easy rapport the two of you had when you first met. But now, knowing you were officially Jude’s girlfriend, it felt different. 

“He’s gonna make it a whole thing, isn’t he?” you said with a nervous chuckle. Jude’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. 

“Oh, definitely. He’ll probably take credit for the whole thing too. Somehow spin it like he had been involved.” You laughed along with him, feeling the tension melt away. Jude was always good at making you feel at ease, even when your nerves got the better of you. He wrapped his arms fully around you, holding you close and lowering his voice. “But speaking of… do I get to sleep with my girlfriend tonight? Or are your parents not about that?” You felt your face heat up at his teasing words, and you playfully squeezed his arm. 

“You’re not sleeping anywhere else,” you replied with a smirk. “They’ll just have to deal with it.” Jude’s grin widened, and as you led him out of the kitchen and through the quiet hallways of the chateau, you felt the weight of the evening slowly lifting. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, and the dim sconces along the walls cast soft shadows that danced across the antique furniture. You brought Jude to a secluded wing of the house, the air cooler and more still. When you opened the door to your room, Jude stepped inside, taking in the spacious yet cozy setting, the heavy drapes, and the ornate furniture that made the place feel like it had been frozen in time yet shimmer in luxury. He raised an eyebrow, flashing you a mischievous grin. 

“So... how thin are the walls in this place?” He cooed. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, biting back a smile. 

“You’ll have to be on your best behavior, Judey,” you teased. Jude chuckled, pulling you into his arms again.

 “Can’t make any promises.” He whispered as his lips brushed against your ear.  You laughed, swatting him playfully once more, but the warmth of his embrace and the soft glow of the room made everything feel perfectly right.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 16 - Glass Angel xx