#behind words like partner or brother

[kidkubrick]

((no bc yknow why i think max and gus' relationship is so good? i think it's because the one time we see gus fring before hes Gus Fring is during the scene where max gets shot and that scene is genuinely so fucking powerful. the thing is, gus works alone, that's his whole shtick. he either works alone, or you work under him. max is the one time we see someone working with him, and at the same level. it's the one time he shows an emotion more than polite listening, or stoic brooding silence. and you can tell how much max cares about him, getting close to tears trying to apologize to eladio. for this very fleeting brief second we see what happened to make gus gus. i think that's the point of that scene. we get all this lore abt who gus was, how eladio knows who he really is, etc etc, who he was when he was in chile, but the scene doesn't exist to establish the beginning of a gus backstory plot. i think it exists to show us a) the ruthlessness of the cartel and b) the main motivation for gus' actions following the murder of his lover. none of this even has to do with max and gus' relationship im just venting abt how much i love their dynamic, and how fucking good the acting is because it is. its so good that you can convey all of the micro-expressions and feelings, and have your audience get it. james martinez is fucking masterful at it, as is esposito. like i can scream this until im blue in the fact but oh my GOD dude.))

[slvttyplum]

banner: @roseschoices divider: @cafekitsune

choso never really got mad, he didn't feel the need to get all up in arms about things he couldn't t control, the only thing he could do was control his own emotions and that's what he did most of the time.

growing up with brothers aren't easy, they turn you over, rat you out, get you in trouble, everything under the sun, so choso was used to teasing and rough play, but what he wasn't used to was seeing you practically naked trying to go out the house.

his blood didn't immediately boil at the sight, he tried to stay calm of course and question the situation, like why the fuck his partner was walking out of the house with a bikini top and shorts that barely covered the bottom of your ass.

“oh! im just having a beach day with my friends.” the innocent smile on your face convinced him that you weren't aware that your outfit wasn't necessarily appropriate to wear, so he didn't shoot you down too quick and instead put the same smile on his face.

“is that right? i didn't know. do you have a cover-up?” trying to slide in the subliminal quickly and smoothly, but once he heard your answer, his blood ran over and told you to please change your outfit.

“i… choso i just got this outfit.” those words sliding into his ears and sliding right out, he couldn't give one fuck. normally he wouldn't care what you wore, but that right there was a no no. you're going on a day trip with your friends without him wearing that, whose attention were you trying to get?

there was no need for him to keep trying to explain to you why you shouldn't even be wearing that outfit in the first place, but his dick thought otherwise, a prime example as to why you shouldn't be wearing it.

if it can happen to him, it can happen to anyone else.

“go change.” his jaw clenching and his arms folded as he stares you down, waiting for you to budge or break down, giving up and go change.”

“no, bye.” you slide on one flip-flops before choso walks closer to you, grabbing you by the waist and bending down and leaning closer to your ear.

“go change for me. don't be difficult.” his breath warm and sliding over your ear then neck, almost making you collapse, but you had to hold your own.

“no.” with that final no, choso picks you up and puts you over his shoulder. it was over for you, when he walked to the bedroom and tossed you on the bed, you knew you weren't making it to the beach.

choso stripped your shorts off revealing a bikini and not even five minutes later, the both of you were naked, and you were on all fours arched with your head against the pillow and chosos dick sliding in and out of you.

moans falling out of your mouth as his body clashes with yours and his hands roam your body, sending chills and then tingles shortly after. your eyes rolling up to the top of your eyelid and your body jolting every time he hit your sweet spot, the overwhelming pleasure was too much for you to handle.

your hands try to grip the sheet, but choso puts his hands over yours, balls them into a fist and puts them behind your back.

choso couldn't stop fucking you. the thought of someone else seeing you in that outfit made him upset, his blood boiling, turning into arousal.

he fucked you into the early morning. that day forward you never wore anything to piss him off, or maybe you did, getting fucked by an angry choso was painfully hot.

[softspiderling]

picture of you in an invisible locket | j.v

summary:

“It is not my father who is against the match.”

“What?”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened in surprise at the implication, and you sighed quietly. You weren’t planning on telling him, knowing it would hurt his feelings greatly, but did you have any other choice?

“You say you have a deep affection for me, and then say that you’re against a match,” Jacaerys said, his brows knitted in confusion.

OR; loving jacaerys velayron means more than loving just him, something that you are painfully aware of

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: none :)

word count: 2,5k

author's note: my first jacaerys fic! ngl it was super hard to jump from obx to hotd bc i wanted my writing to feel authentic to the fandom/show??? yeah obx and hotd could NOT be any more different tbf. i have a bunch of ideas for jace but if you want you can send me some requests! also tagging @zyafics and @sunderlust bc they've been encouraging me to write for jace ily guys. happy reading and pls leave some feedback/comments/nice words!!! <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The light of the torches were flickering as you walked down the hallway, your shoes clicking against the marble stones that lined the ground. It was nearly midnight and a lady of your rank shouldn’t be awake at this hour, much less out of her chambers by herself, roaming the halls.

But you were hungry.

You hadn’t had much to eat during dinner, trying to avoid him as much as possible, which is getting increasingly more difficult. Usually, he wasn’t so persistent, opting to stay close to your father during dinner, exchanging information about their culture, or drinking with your brother. Tonight, however, it seemed like he was on quest to find you whenever you were standing idly by, asking for a dance. And of course, you couldn’t decline for no reason, as it would appear rude or even slight, so you busied yourself with other - much less distracting - dance partners. By the time he was approached by one of your guards, inquiring about his training, and you saw your chance to sit down and eat in peace, the table had been cleared for the last course. While you did love cake, your hunger couldn’t be stilled by a mere dessert and you spent the remainder of the night famished, longing for some hearty food.

As if on cue, your stomach grumbled of hunger again, and you picked up the skirt of your night dress, hastening along to the kitchen. When you finally reached the stair case that led down to the kitchens, you hurried down the steps, letting yourself into the kitchen, the heavy wooden door swinging shut behind you.

The kitchen was dimly lit, and you headed to the pantry, searching for bread and butter and if you were lucky, some smoked ham. You were so focused on your search, you didn’t even notice another presence lingering in the doorway of the pantry.

You heart nearly stopped when you finally did see him, your gasp echoing in the empty kitchen.

“Prince Jacaerys!”

The crown prince of the Seven Realms was standing in front of you, arms behind his back and brows raised. You forced your heartbeat so calm down, hand still clutching your chest.

“You gave me a fright,” you said. “What are you doing here?”

“I have been waiting for your arrival. You took quite some time, I was certain you would be here an hour past.”

Your eyes narrowed in slits, growing wary at his words. “And how did you know that I would come to the kitchens at this hour? I do not make it a habit to skulk around the keep at night.”

Jacaerys chuckled dryly, his beautiful dark curls bouncing as he shook his head, as if in disbelief.

“Given how you occupied the dance floor with various dance partners earlier, I did not see you sit down for supper once. You were certain to still your hunger somewhere.”

So he did notice.

You acted nonchalant, turning away from him eyes searching shelves in the pantry.

“Searching for this?”

Jacaerys brought a loaf of bread from behind his back, wrapped in a cloth. Your eyes gleamed, taking a step forward to reach for it, nearly bumping into him as he took a step forward as well, breaching into your personal space. Your heart stopped, feeling his hot breath fanning on your cheeks and the prince’s lips tugged into a grin.

“Ah ah,” he tutted, moving the bread out of your reach. “You do not expect me to give this away without a price now, do you my lady?”

You took a moment’s pause, considering his words with caution.

“… What sort of price do you speak of?”

“How about…” Jacaerys begun. “A kiss?”

With a small breath, you faltered, looking up at him through your lashes, your shoulders slumping.

“Jace.”

“Ah, now we are back to Jace?”

Snatching the small piece of ham and the butter that sat in a small marble bell from the shelves, you walk back into the kitchen, knowing Jacaerys would follow you. Making a stop at the counter, you spread your findings on it, waiting until Jacaerys stopped next you, loaf of bread still in his hand.

“You have been avoiding me.”

“I have not.”

“You danced with every single man at your brother’s name day celebration except for me,” Jacaerys pointed out. You shrugged with your shoulders, an act you would never do in front of other people, but this was Jace.

“I was merely being a good host.”

“Don’t insult me, my lady. I saw your grimace when Lord Ren twirled you over the dance floor while stepping all over your feet with his barbaric dance moves.”

Seven hells, he got you there. You never were able to keep your real feelings hidden when it came to Lord Ren. He was just too insufferable. Pursing your lips, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You were still a lady after all, you had some manners.

“Will you give me the bread when I admit you’re right?”

“I should not,” Jacaerys sniffed. “Because I know I am right, I do not need a confession. I just want to know your reasons.”

With a huff, you snatched the loaf of bread out of his hands, reaching for knife in the wooden block. You cut out several slices, maybe with more force than necessary.

“You know my reasons.”

Jacaery is quiet next to you and you dropped the knife on the counter, wrapping the rest of the loaf up again. You can still feel his gaze on you as you spread the butter on the bread slices, knowing he was waiting for you to elaborate, and after a few more moments, you broke, the knife clattering against the wooden surface.

“Jace, you know I… Have a deep affection for you.”

“As do I for you.”

The two of you both skirted around the big word, not quite bold enough to say it yet.

“I do not wish to give my father the expectation to marry me off to you.”

“I’m the crown prince, surely your father would not have any grievances against a match.”

“It is not my father who is against the match.”

“What?”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened in surprise at the implication, and you sighed quietly. You weren’t planning on telling him, knowing it would hurt his feelings greatly, but did you have any other choice?

“You say you have a deep affection for me, and then say that you’re against a match,” Jacaerys said, his brows knitted in confusion. “I don’t understand. Isn’t a match born out of affection and not duty what you have been wanting?”

“Jace, this is more complicated than me harboring any affections for you-” you started, but your words were cut shot by Jacaerys speaking your name.

“If it’s about leaving home, I promise King’s Landing is not as bad as it seems. And on dragonback, it is only a three day journey. When I first left, I got terribly homesick as well, but-“

“I do not wish to be Queen!” you exploded, falling into Jacaerys’ words and he took a step back at your outburst, surprise flickering over his face. You let out a long, deep, breath, hand clutching at your chest, calming yourself down.

The kitchen is eerily calm, neither of you spoke, the only sound is the fire crackling in the hearth. Your voice is quiet when you finally spoke again.

“I am the youngest child of my father, Jace. His only daughter. My oldest brother is betrothed and to be wed in less than a year’s time, the second oldest is courting his partner to be betrothed. I was not trained to rule, to have any responsibility or to represent my house. You are the crown prince, set to inherit the Iron Throne, to rule over seven kingdoms. Seven, Jace. How exactly do you expect me to fulfill the role of a Queen consort?”

Jacaerys’ mouth was parted, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say. Which you understood. You have never shared your feelings about his position as heir before, how you resented it a little for it was the only reason you couldn’t let yourself be matched with him.

“I’m not fit to be Queen.”

“I… Didn’t know that you felt this way,” he said, his voice tight. “I can’t shirk my duties.”

“And I am not asking you to,” you assured him. “I just can’t… Be the wife you need.”

“What if-”

“Jacaerys, please.”

Your voice was pleading, knowing discussing this any further was no use. You weren’t fit for a Queen. Jacaerys’ face shut down, and he put his mask up, before nodding, ever the understanding prince, much to your luck. “Of course. Whatever you wish for, my love.”

His love.

“I will see you on the morrow.”

Reaching for your hand, he grasped it gently with his, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, before stepping back, letting go of you. As he departed from the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, your breath shaky. You knew you hurt him, disappointed him, but this was so much bigger than the two of you.

You breathed out deeply, hoping the sorrow would leave, but it didn’t. Reaching for the bread, your appetite had gone, but leaving it would be wasting it, so you bit into your dinner. And as you ate, you couldn’t help but think that the bread tasted like ashes in your mouth.

The next few days, Jacaerys seemed to respect your wishes to keep his distance. You still saw him around the keep, occasionally walking with your father, mostly though you saw him accompanying your brother as they conversed quietly, but intently. You wondered what they were talking about. Whenever you saw him, you noticed that Jacaerys kept his gaze away from took, and you couldn’t help but feel saddened, even though this was what you asked him for in the first place.

You missed his company. Especially at night. Despite the fact that you had never crossed any lines, or did anything improper - spending the dark hours at the library talking, exchanging stories about your childhood, maybe coming very close to a kiss - you were still a maiden. Of course you spending time with him alone was unseemly, and your father would betroth you immediately would he find out. It might be better for you, that Jacaerys kept away.

It was the end of the week when you saw him again. You were sat in the dining hall, at another feast your father had called for. It was the night of the departure of the representatives of House Blackwood, though even if it weren’t, you didn’t doubt that there would still be a feast. Your father didn’t need an occasion celebrate.

Your demeanor was polite, bht curt, hoping that it would deter any lords from asking for a dance, but of course Lord Ren was keen on offering you his hand.

Giving him a polite smile, you let him lead you around the dance floor, already forming some sort of excuse in your head when someone stepped to you, offering you his hand.

It was Jacaerys.

“May I, Lord Ren?”

“Of course, my prince.”

Lord Ren bowed to Jacaerys and you bowed your head out of respect before Jacaery placed a hand on your waist, his other finding your hand. You couldn’t help but feel relief that Jacaerys had freed you from Lord Ren, but you tried to keep your composure.

“I thought we talked about this, Jacaerys,” you muttered out between gritted teeth, as to uphold the image of a happy lady, dancing with her guest.

“We have.”

Jacaerys replied easily, never missing a step as he spoke, despite keeping his eyes on you. Ever the perfect prince.

You turned away, not being able to hold his eyes on you, your stomach churning.

“I am sorry if I hurt your feelings, Jace,” you said quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear you talking to the crown prince in such a familiar way. “I wish things were different- That I was different.”

Jacaerys’ hand tightened on your waist, and he used that to pull you closer.

“I spoke to your father, and he gave his blessing for our betrothal.”

Your eyes widened at his words, as you hadn’t expected them, the shock evident on your face. You had told him about your fears of being Queen consort and he just disregarded them.

“What?”

“I know you’re afraid that you won’t be able to fulfill your duties as Queen, my Queen consort. My mother will teach you, I will be by your side. My mother is set to live a long life and by the time I will inherit the throne, you will be properly trained. And I swear on my life, you will make the best Queen consort the realm will ever see.”

Stunned, you blinked your eyes at him, as if this all was a dream. Never before had you experience someone being so stubborn to prove you of your own worth.

“It hurt me greatly when you told of your reluctance of our match, because I cannot fathom that you see yourself anything less than you are.”

As he spoke, Jacaerys kept his gaze ahead, but he finally he turned to look at you, his eyes softening.

“I will not force you. This is your choice. If you do not wish to marry me, you won’t have to. Just know that I believe in you and what you will be able to do as Queen consort.”

You were trying so hard to find the right words, your feet stopped working for a second and you stumbled, but Jacaerys was quick to tighten his grip around you, keeping you upright.

“I- don’t know what to say,” you admitted.

“Say yes?”

Jacaerys looked down at you, his eyes hopeful and you felt your resolve melt away, especially because it looked he had planned it down to the last detail.

“Yes, okay.”

Jacaerys smiled at you before turning to the side, giving a curt nod and that was all it took for your father thrust his jug into the air, the ale spilling over the rim.

“I am thrilled to announce that Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen of the Seven Realms, has asked my daughter for her hand in marriage… And she has accepted!”

The raucuos cheers that followed after nearly deafened your ears and you hid your face in Jacaerys’ chest - an act of affection you allowed yourself now that the two of you were betrothed.

“This couldn’t wait until we were in closed chambers?” you whispered, pink tinging your cheeks. Jacaerys shook his head, lifting your hand to brush his lips over your knuckles.

“There’s no backing out of it now, my love.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: thoughts?? :)

[nevernonline]

✧.* heartbreak girl; csc one shot.

synopsis: Seungcheol struggles with his feelings for his best friend, y/n, who is caught in a complicated relationship. As he watches her suffer from heartbreak, he finds it increasingly difficult to conceal his love for her.

paring: seungcheol x fem! reader. 

genre:friends2lovers

warning/s:mentions of substances (alcohol) some minor sexy stuff, but not much really.

word count: 8.6k

content: . non-idol idolings, big brother Joshua. asshole boyfriends yk. Cheol is painfully in love.

note: non edited prob weird typos, xo.

Seungcheol stood outside the bustling café, the familiar sound of laughter and chatter spilling through the door like an intoxicating aroma. He had been meaning to meet his friends here for a while, but his heart wasn’t in it tonight. Instead, it felt heavy, aching at the thought of her—Y/n, his best friend and the girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart.

They had grown up together, their lives intertwined like the branches of the old oak tree that sat as the bridge between their childhood bedrooms. Seungcheol had always been protective of y/n, watching from the sidelines as she navigated the ups and downs of her life. But just recently, something had shifted between them, a current of unspoken words and emotions that neither dared to acknowledge.

He pushed open the door and made his way through the crowd, scanning the room until his eyes landed on her. Y/n sat at a corner table, her hair cascading over her shoulders, lost in conversation with another friend. But Seungcheol could see it in her eyes—the flicker of worry, the slight downturn of her lips. He knew her better than anyone, and lately, she had seemed off.

His heart raced as he approached the table, steeling himself for the inevitable conversation. “Hey, Soojin, Y/n.” he greeted, forcing a smile despite the turmoil brewing inside him.

“Seungcheol! You made it!” Y/n exclaimed, the warmth of her voice wrapping around him like a comfort blanket. But as her expression shifted to one of concern, he could see the cracks behind her cheerful facade.

“You okay?” he asked, unable to hide the worry in his own voice.

“Yeah, just... a lot going on,” she said, brushing it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Seungcheol glanced at her friend, who seemed to sense the underlying tension and quickly excused herself. The moment of solitude felt charged, and Seungcheol knew they needed to talk.

“Listen, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me,” he urged, leaning forward. “I’m your friend, Bunny. I want to help.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just... Alex,  dating has been, and it’s... complicated. I think he might be seeing someone else.”

Seungcheol remembered when Y/n first started dating her current partner, he was alright, nothing special compared to the girl who was standing in front of him. 

past

When he first met y/n boyfriend she had just gotten back from college for the weekend as Seungcheol stepped onto her front lawn waiting inside patiently next to y/n’s brother Joshua, he was considering running down the sidewalk to her when a guy appeared out of the front seat to hug her mother. It was in a flash of a moment he knew this guy was her boyfriend. 

Seungcheol's heart sank, but he tried impossible hard to maintain a composed exterior. He forced a smile and greeted y/n with a wave as she approached, her boyfriend trailing beside her. Joshua nudged Seungcheol gently, giving him an encouraging nod.

"Hey, Seungcheol!" y/n called out, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "It's so good to see you!"

"Good to see you too, Bunny," Seungcheol replied, his voice steady. "How is school, my little scholar?"

"It’s been great, but I’ve missed home, especially your mom’s cooking," she said, glancing at her boyfriend. "Oh, Shit. I should introduce you! This is Alex."

Alex extended a hand towards Seungcheol. "Nice to meet you, man."

"Nice to meet you too," Seungcheol said, shaking his hand firmly. He noticed how Alex's grip was strong but not overbearing, a sign of confidence and respect.

The four of them stood there for a moment, the air filled with unspoken words. Joshua, sensing the tension, quickly suggested, "Why don't we all head inside? Mom made us some lemonade. Feel free to spike it yourself."

Of course they all agreed, and as they walked towards the house, Seungcheol couldn't help but steal a glance at y/n. She seemed happy, and that was what mattered most to him, even if it meant watching from the sidelines.

Inside, the house was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly squeezed lemon, probably just a room spray her mom thought would make her lemonade pop more, which helped make Cheol smile even more. y/n's mother greeted them with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling with joy at having her two kids home. The group settled into the cozy living room, the atmosphere gradually easing into one of laughter and shared stories.

Seungcheol listened intently, contributing when he could, but mostly observing the dynamics between y/n and Alex. He noticed the small gestures of affection, the way they seemed to understand each other with just a glance. It was clear they shared a deep connection.

As the evening wore on, Seungcheol felt a mix of emotions. There was an undeniable pang of that little green monster creeping in, but also a sense of acceptance. He realized that y/n's happiness was the most important thing, and if Alex was the one who brought that to her, then he would do his best to support her wholeheartedly.

Later, after many sneaks to Joshua’s hidden liquor, too many slices of pizza, and card games, they all stood on the porch saying their goodbyes, y/n gave Seungcheol a tight hug. "It really is good to see you, Seungcheol. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I won't," he promised, his voice sincere. "Take care of yourself, y/n."

“You know I always do,” she gripped onto his sweatshirt sleeve, and flashed her award winning smile his way, “And if I find myself in need of a body guard I’ll be sure to call you.” 

With one last wave, Seungcheol watched as she and Alex walked down the driveway, hand in hand. He sighed softly, turning to Joshua who gave him a sympathetic look.

"Come on," Joshua said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go get a beer, bro. My treat."

Seungcheol nodded, grateful for Joshua's friendship. As they walked away, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Life had a way of surprising you, and he knew that his story was far from over.

A few months had passed now and finally the  sun was shining brightly as their friend group gathered around the picnic table, laughter and chatter filling the air. Plates of food were being passed around, and the aroma of grilled meat wafted through the garden. Which sure, sounded a little gross, but it was just another sign of the changing of seasons, but not the changing of where his heart was gravitating. Y/N was in her element, flitting from one group to another, her energy infectious.

Seungcheol watched her from a distance, like he usually would, holding a fond smile on his lips. He couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly she brought people together, how her presence seemed to light up even the most simple of places.

"Hey, earth to Idiot!" Y/N's voice broke through his daydream. She was standing in front of him, hands on her hips and a playful glint in her eyes. "Are you ready for our trip tomorrow?"

He grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I knew you’d never disappoint me!" she exclaimed, her smile widening. "It's going to be the best one yet, I can feel it. Something about the smell of the rain this year tells my heart the flowers will be perfect.”

Seungcheol chuckled, captivated by her excitement. "You and your weird as fuck sixth sense about flowers," he teased gently.

She punched him playfully. "Hey, don't underestimate my flower intuition. It's never wrong. It’s like how you always can for some reason tell how many people got a draft beer before you based on some fucked up freshness level you created. I mean we could always take a bet and see who everyone thinks is more insane.” 

As the evening wore on, they continued to chat and laugh, the anticipation for their trip growing with each passing moment. The backyard was now filled with the soft glow of fairy lights, casting a magical ambiance over the gathering. And Seuncheol was still sitting with Y/n listening to her talk on and on about her new weird interests. 

"Remember the first time we went on this trip?" Y/N asked, her gaze distant as she reminisced. "We got lost for hours, and you were so convinced that we were going to get mauled by a bear or a cougar or something?” 

“We didn’t have gas or cell service. I feel like it was a fair assumption to make.” Seungcheol smiled, feeling slightly embarrassed  remembering how he embarrassed himself around her even though he’s sure there were worse incidents. 

“But, we were at a reststop.” 

“But it was pouring rain, y/n. Come on.” 

“Fine, I’ll let you have it,” she ruffled her pretty hands through his hair “I still think you’re silly.” 

“You’re always so mean to me, when I do everything for you.” 

“It’s just so easy.” 

“By the way,” Seungcheol rubbed his slightly sweaty palms on his jeans, “Where’s Alex this weekend?” 

“Uh,” Y/n gave him a soft smile that he wasn’t so convinced was real, “With his parents in Antigua I think? Not sure, some weird beach vacation. Sounds boring.” 

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, sensing the underlying tension in Y/n's tone. “Antigua, huh? Must be nice,” he replied, his voice deliberately casual, though he couldn't help the hint of envy creeping in. 

Y/n shrugged, her smile flickering momentarily. “Yeah, I guess. But honestly, I’d much rather be here, hanging out with you guys. This is way more fun. And don’t tell Josh, but I miss seeing him every day.”

“Seriously?” Seungcheol asked. “I mean, it’s a tropical paradise, and you’d choose me and your brother over that?”

“Absolutely,” she said, her gaze meeting him with sincerity. “Why would I want to be stuck on a beach when I could be here, laughing and just… being ourselves? This is way more my style.”

Her words warmed him, but a knot of unease tightened in his stomach. “So, no Alex for the weekend, then,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Y/n bit her lip, a flicker of thought crossing her face. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess it’s a bit of both? It’s nice to have some time to myself. But… you know how it is.” She trailed off, her eyes drifting away as if contemplating something deeper.

“Yeah, I do. Relationships can be complicated,” Seungcheol replied, his heart racing at the opportunity. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

She turned back to him, and her expression softened. “Thanks, Seungcheol. That means a lot.”

As the evening wore on, Seungcheol found himself lost in conversations with old friends and making new ones. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, a perfect reflection of Y/N's spirit.

Later, as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Seungcheol and Y/N found themselves talking through their open childhood bedroom windows. 

"Thanks for always being there, Seungcheol," Y/N said softly, her gaze fixed on picking at her nails..

He watched her, his heart swelling with affection. "Always, Y/N. That's what friends are for."

She leaned her head on her hand, and they stared at each other, both hoping that no matter where life took them, they would always have each other.

At that moment, Seungcheol realized that sometimes, the most beautiful places were the ones you were at with the people you cared about the most.

As Seungcheol sat in his dimly lit room, the flickering glow of the y/n’s Scooby-Doo night light shone in his window, transporting him back to the warmth of Y/n’s presence. He could picture her room perfectly: the walls adorned with posters of their favorite shows, remnants of their laughter still hanging in the air. It had always been a haven for her—a place where her dreams intertwined and her deepest secrets were shared.

Years passed quickly, and that cherished tradition of celebrating their friendship had drifted away like fall leaves caught in a breeze. Life took them in separate directions, and despite the countless apologies Y/n sent his way, Seungcheol could never quite shake the feeling of loss. He always believed that she knew how much those moments meant to him; her absence felt like a missing piece of his heart that was waiting to be filled.

While he tried to move on, dating a variety of girls who were kind and entertaining, none of them were Y/n. He often found himself comparing their laughter to hers, their quirks to the little things he cherished about her. It felt like an act of treason against the relationships he pursued, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the old feelings from creeping back into his heart.

As he reflected on it all, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Why couldn't he just let go? It was foolish to cling to a childhood crush on your best friend's little sister that seemed to grow more distant by the day. But deep down, he sensed that what he felt for Y/n was something more profound than a simple infatuation. She was his first crush, someone he confided in, and the keeper of so many memories that covered his soul with nostalgia and warmth.

It was during one of those restless nights, when the weight of her absence pressed heavily on his chest, that he made a decision. Seungcheol had to  reach out to Y/n. No more waiting for the right moment or hoping for a chance meeting. He needed to tell her how he felt, how much he still cared, and how he longed for the connection they once shared.

Building up his courage the moment turned into an eternity as he waited, and just as doubt began to creep in, his phone buzzed, it was her calling him as if he had manifested catching up with her. 

Seungcheol's heart raced as he saw Y/n's name flash across the screen. Just the sight of it sent a jolt of anxiety through him, he pushed it down and tried to take it as a reminder of all the times they had spent together, laughing until their sides hurt or sharing secrets late into the night, almost like excitement. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the accept button, uncertainty warring with excitement. 

But before he could overthink it any longer, he pressed "accept" and set his phone to the speaker. “Y/n?”

“Cheol!” Her voice was bright, and it ignited something deep within him—an undeniable longing. “I can’t believe I finally caught you. I’ve missed you so much, sorry for the phone tag, I have been so fucking busy. 

“I’ve missed you too,” he replied, his voice steadier than he felt. “It’s been way too long. I was just thinking about texting you when you called.”

“I feel bad for not making it home to see you lately,” she admitted, a hint of regret in her tone. “But.. uh, I’d love to fix that. How about we get together this weekend, like we used to? Maybe invite Soojin? Joshua?” 

“Let’s do it.” A smile spread across his face. “We can go to that bar we used to sneak into and catch a show legally now?” 

“Sounds perfect. Do me a favor?” she said, genuine enthusiasm shining through her words.

“Yes?” he waiting on the other end of the line hearing her giggling slightly to herself. 

“Wear that old Sonic Youth t-shirt you have?” 

“Why would I wear that?” 

“Not sure. I just like that t-shirt. Please?” 

Seungcheol’s heart swelled at the thought of being with her again, but he also felt the weight of unresolved feelings pressing on him. They’d both changed, but would the bond they shared still resonate the same way? Would she see him as just her brother’s friend or as something more?

As they continued to chat, Seungcheol tried to gauge her tone, the way she spoke about her life, the little nuances that indicated where she stood. Y/n spoke about college, her friends, and of course Alex.Her enthusiasm was infectious. But every laugh pulled him further back into the past, to the innocent moments when everything had felt so uncomplicated.

“Hey, Y/n,” he ventured, his heart beating a little faster as he gathered his thoughts. “I’ve been meaning to ask… How are you handling everything? I know things have changed for both of us.”

Y/n paused, and he could almost hear her brain processing the question. “Honestly? It’s been a bit of a whirlwind. I’m still figuring things out, but having people around who care makes it easier.”

“Yeah, I feel that,” he said, wishing he could just lay bare his feelings, let his heart spill out the way they used to share their secrets. “You know, I’ve always been here if you need someone to talk to.”

Her voice softened, and he could sense the shift in the conversation. “I know, and I appreciate that, Cheol. You’ve always been there for me, just like… well, I cant think of something always there for something else, but you get it..”

They fell into a comfortable rhythm again, but as the call slowly wound down, Seungcheol felt a flicker of resolve.

As they said their goodbyes, he heard Y/n’s voice resonate with warmth, and for a moment, the distance between them felt almost non-existent. “See you this weekend, okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it,” Seungcheol replied, his heart racing at the endless possibilities that lay ahead. 

Closing his phone, he let out a deep breath, a smile breaking across his face. The connection he had yearned for was just around the corner, and as he lay back on his bed, he knew that this time, he wouldn’t hold back. 

present:

His heart sank at the words, a wave of frustration washing over him. “You deserve so much better than that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Don’t let anyone treat you like you’re not worth it. How do you know he’s cheating on you?

Y/n took a shaky breath, the anguish evident in her expression. “I’ve seen the signs—the late nights, the changing passwords, the way he ducks away when I try to talk about us.” She paused, her voice cracking slightly. “I just feel it deep inside, like this gnawing instinct that something isn’t right.”

Seungcheol felt his protectiveness swell within him. The thought of anyone treating her poorly made his blood boil. “Those signs aren’t just coincidence, Y/n. People shouldn’t make you second-guess yourself like that.”

She looked down, her fingers tracing the patterns on her jeans. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but the more I try to brush it aside, the more it eats away at me. I just wish I had the strength to confront him.” 

“You do have that strength,” he urged, leaning closer, wanting to make eye contact to convey just how serious he was. “You’re stronger than you think. No one should keep you in the dark or make you feel like you have to doubt yourself. But if you need my help or anyone elses you know you can ask us right? You don’t have to fight it alone. Is that why you’ve been avoiding us lately?” 

“Yeah and I’m sorry I’m embarrassed. But what if I’m wrong? What if I confront him and it turns out I’m just being paranoid?” A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away in frustration, the vulnerability on display pulling sharply at Seungcheol’s heart.

“Y/n, you’re not paranoid; you’re being cautious. People should earn your trust, not break it. If he really cared about you, he’d be open and honest, not leave you guessing.” Seungcheol felt a surge of emotion, desperately wanting to help her see the truth. “You have every right to bring up your concerns. If he reacts poorly, that’s a huge huge fucking red flag.”

She nodded slowly, another tear escaping despite her efforts to contain them. “I just don’t want to lose more than what I already feel like I’ve lost.. I just don’t know what to do, I guess. I’m sorry I’m ruining our fun.”

At that moment, Seungcheol couldn’t help but reach out, gently cupping her chin with his fingers so she would look up at him. “You are never ruining our fun, by telling us how you feel. Remember, you’re the one who deserves to be valued, not just by him, but by everyone in your life, especially those who say they love you.”

Their eyes locked, and he felt a change in the air around them—a connection that transcended the conversation that was sinking like a stone. “You deserve love that lifts you up, that makes you feel secure. Not a relationship that makes you doubt your worth and changes your life poorly.”

“Cheol…” she started, but he could see the struggle in her eyes, the facade of strength crumbling as the truth sunk in. She was scared, scared of the possibilities, but perhaps also scared of how much this all mattered to her.

“I’ll be right here with you, no matter what happens,” he promised, his voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling inside him. “We’ll figure this out together. You don’t have to face any of it alone.” 

Y/n's expression softened, and the tension in her shoulders eased just a little. “Thank you. It just helps to know someone cares I guess.” 

Seungcheol nodded, yearning to break through the last barriers between them. “I’ve always cared for you, Y/n. Always. And I’ll keep caring, no matter what.” Even as those words left his mouth, he felt a weight in his chest—he wanted her to see just how much more she meant to him than mere friendship, but the time for that would come later. Right now, she needed a friend in her corner, and he would be that friend, no matter what. “Should we have a drink now?” 

She smiled at him again, giving him a side hug. “Yes, maybe some shots too?” 

Seungcheol immediately got to his feet and winked as he bee-lined for the bar standing next to Joshua and Soojin, filling them in on his conversation with y/n. The three of them didn’t mention it the rest of the night, but just made sure to give her the best time dancing and forgetting about her shitty relationship issues before the alcohol settled in her system too much and Cheol had to carry her home. 

Joshua unlocked their front door and slid into the house quietly rushing in the three other party goers in hopes not to wake his mom up considering it was a work night. 

Y/n brother pulled her shoes off and rested them at the front door, basically begging Seungcheol to carry her up to her bedroom so he could go get Soojin some pajamas and change his sheets for her in his room which Cheol obliged being the most sober. 

As he was carrying his friend to bed she looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know I’m drunk, but I don’t want to get my hopes up only to be disappointed again. I just... feel so lost.”

Seungcheol felt a pang of concern as he adjusted his grip on her, his heart aching at the vulnerability etched across Y/n's face. He knew the night had been a whirlwind—filled with laughter, dancing, and fleeting moments of joy—but now, as he carried her up the stairs, her honesty pierced through the haze of alcohol.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady and reassuring. “It’s okay to feel lost. You’ve been through a lot. But just remember, you have lots of people riding for you. 

Y/n blinked slowly, her features wavering as she processed his words. “I don’t want to burden you,” she admitted, almost whispering. “I don’t want you to be sad because of me.

Seungcheol paused just outside her bedroom door, carefully shifting her weight so she wasn't too uncomfortable. “You’re not a burden, Y/n. Friends support each other. That’s what we do.”

Her lips trembled slightly, and she looked down, tears pooling in her eyes. “I just... I wish I could see things clearly. I want to believe it’ll get better, but I’m scared it won’t.” 

He took a deep breath, choosing his buzzed words carefully. “It’s natural to feel scared. Change is intimidating, especially when it comes to relationships that have been so significant in your life. But that doesn’t mean you can’t start taking the steps to find what you really deserve. Like we talked about earlier. You’re worth that big true love, Y/n, even if you can’t see it just yet.”

Looking into her eyes, he noticed the flicker of hope battling against the weight of her sorrow. “You deserve to feel loved, celebrated and so fucking cherished, not just tolerated. And trust me,” he added, trying to inject a touch of warmth into his words, “the right person will come along, maybe they already have. You’re incredible.”

Y/n’s gaze held onto his, searching for truth in his words. “Do you really think so?” 

“Yes, loser,” he affirmed, nodding. “I’ve been singing your praises for years, remember I did write a letter to Harry Styles trying to get him to go out with you when he was still on X-Factor so until that person comes along, I’m right here.” He started moving again, gently pushing the door open with his knee.

As he stepped inside, he carefully laid her onto the bed, her comfort a priority in the quiet space. “Just rest for now. Tomorrow is a new day. You don’t have to worry about anything tonight. Just let it go.”

She looked up at him, her expression softening as the corners of her mouth edged toward a small smile. “Thanks, CheolieI don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he assured her, tucking the blanket around her. “You’re stuck with me now.” He grinned, feeling the lightness of the moment wash over them, dispelling some of the heavy emotions lingering in the air.

She laughed softly, a sound that melted some of the tension from his chest. “Okay, but just for tonight! Tomorrow, I’ll have to start figuring things out. And can you do me one more incredibly annoying awkward favor that we never have to speak of again?” 

“Deal,” he replied playfully. “Depending on how embarrassing it is?” 

“Can you help me put on my pajamas? Or at least unbutton my shirt for me, I’m so warm and too drunk to care right now.” 

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly masked his shock with a teasing grin. “Wow, is y/n too drunk to get undressed herself, it’s bringing me back to when you had your senior party.”

Y/n shrugged, her cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol and the sudden vulnerability of the moment. “I’m serious! I can’t get the buttons right now,” she grumbled, a laugh escaping her lips as she realized just how ridiculous the request was.

“Shut up, it’s fine.” he said, trying to maintain the playful spirit of the moment while also respecting her boundaries. “But you have to promise me you won’t regret this in the morning.”

“How could anyone regret that the night star football player and homecoming king four years running Choi Seungcheol took their clothes off?” she replied with a slight smirk. “Can we actually stop fucking around though and  focus on getting me comfy so I can pass out without feeling like I’m wearing a fucking straightjacket.”

“Didn’t know you thought so highly of me,” he smirked back, trying to suppress his nervousness. Carefully, he shifted to sit beside her on the edge of the bed, ensuring he kept the atmosphere light and respectful. “I’ll work my special magic.”

He helped her sit up and, taking a deep breath, gently began unbuttoning her shirt. With each button he opened, he focused on keeping his movements steady and casual,trying not to touch inappropriately whatsoever,  stealing glances at her face rather than her torso. “See, I’m not so bad at this, right? Even being out of practice.” he joked, trying to ease any tension in the air. 

Y/n chuckled softly, her laughter lightening the mood. “Yeah, you’re doing great. Just stop making it weird.”

“Me? Make it weird? Psh.” he teased back, his heart racing slightly as he continued, relieved that her demeanor was playful. As the last button came undone, he carefully helped her shrug the shirt off, revealing a soft bra top underneath. 

“You literally just confessed to not getting laid in a long time, weirdo. Too much information.” 

“God, shut up, I did not” he said, letting out a sigh of relief as he set the shirt aside. “Mission accomplished.. But it’s a good look, just so you know.”

“You’re just buttering me up to make me forget this moment, Cheol,” she replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes despite her slightly vulnerable state.

“Wouldn’t dream of it! This moment is going straight into the  archives as ‘That Time I Helped Y/n Get Ready for Bed,” he said, crossing his arms defiantly.

Y/n giggled, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous. 

Seungcheol felt warmth radiate in his chest at her words. “And you’re worse,” he said genuinely, his smile softening. “Now get some rest, cutie. I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything else.” 

“You can stay here if you want? Joshua is sleeping on the couch because Soojin’s in his room.” 

“Oh, uh. I’ll be alright on the floor downstairs. You get some sleep okay?” 

“Goodnight, Cheolie,” she whispered, nearly missing him calling her an affectionate name, her eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of sleep began to envelop her.

“Goodnight, Bunny.” He watched her peaceful expression for a moment, then stood up from the edge of her bed and made his way to the door, feeling a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, he felt pride in being there for her, but a flicker of longing stirred inside him, reminding him of how much he truly fell in love with her.

As he stepped out into the hallway, he leaned against the wall, contemplating going back in there and comforting  her for the night but also how it could affect their friendship and the feelings that lingered just below the surface. Tonight wasn't just another night; it felt like a turning point. Seungcheol had no idea where it would ultimately lead, but for now, he was grateful to be her anchor, even in the midst of uncertainty.

The next morning rolled in like a thunder cloud for y/n, she remembered walking home, but not much after that. She sat up under her pink fuzzy blanket in nothing other than her bra and skirt she had on the night before, her hair smooshed up on the back of her head like a pancake. 

She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there but whoever took her upstairs left a glass of water on the nightstand and two tylenol. She smiled, grateful people have always looked out for her like this. Downing the two white pills and the entire glass of water she shot up and headed for the bathroom, walking in non- chalantly thinking nobody was behind the white door. As she turned the knob a voice came ringing in her ears. 

“Josh I told you- Oh,” Seungcheol was shirtless with nothing but his wet hair cascading down his face and his towel wrapped around his body parts.” Y/n sorry.. I was just uh.. Finished.” 

She slapped her hands over her eyes whispering a sorry and running back into her room, feeling a blush hit her cheeks. 

Y/n's heart raced as she slammed the bathroom door shut and ran down the hall slamming her bedroom door shut her back against it, her mind swirling with embarrassment. She could practically feel the heat radiating from her cheeks as she replayed the scene in her head. How had she not realized Seungcheol was right there? 

After taking a moment to collect herself, she peeked out through her fingers, her heart still pounding. “No, no, no. Why did I have to walk in like that?” she muttered under her breath, doing her best to calm the embarrassment bubbling up inside her. She could still picture Seungcheol’s surprised expression, 

With a deep breath, she reminded herself to take it easy. “You’re both adults.And your friends like it, it's fine.  Mistakes happen,” she whispered, trying to rationalize the embarrassment.

Y/n slowly shuffled back to her bed and flopped down face-first into her pillow, groaning. “Why is this my life?” she lamented silently, wanting to sink into the depths of her blankets and hide from the world altogether.

After a couple of minutes spent wallowing in her own pity, she finally sat up and took stock of the situation. She had to laugh at herself; if anyone could handle a little awkwardness, it was definitely Seungcheol.

With newfound resolve, she decided to brush off the incident. After all, she couldn’t stay cooped up in her room forever, and eventually, she would have to interact with him. 

Rubbing her eyes, she stood up, her body still feeling a bit wobbly from the residual effects of last night. She padded over to her wardrobe and found a comfy oversized sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts to throw on. Just as she was finishing zipping up the  sweatshirt, her door creaked open, and she heard Seungcheol’s voice. 

“Uh... hey, Y/n?” 

She froze, heart racing at the thought of confronting him after their embarrassing encounter. “Y-yeah?” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. 

“I just wanted to check if you were okay. I heard you might have had a bit too much fun last night,” he said, his tone laced with gentle teasing but lacking the usual bravado. 

Y/n felt her cheeks warm again, but she twisted the moment into playful sarcasm. “Yeah, I clearly have my life together. Who wouldn’t want to walk into a bathroom with a half-naked guy?” 

His laughter echoed, and she couldn’t help but smile despite herself. “Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting a guest, either.”

“So, uh, thanks for... you know, taking care of me last night.”

“Of course,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ll help you with whatever.” 

She nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his words. “Yeah, but still! I really appreciate it.” 

Seungcheol’s smile faded slightly, replaced with an earnest expression as he leaned against the doorframe. “Y/n,It’s not a big deal. I’ve been doing it for years, I don’t mind.” 

She bit her lip, feeling that familiar flutter in her stomach at the intensity of his gaze and the sincerity behind it. “For real, Cheol. Thanks. I mean it. Just accept the sincerity.” 

“Alright, alright,” he said, breaking the moment by giving her a grin, “Want to get some breakfast or something? I’ll whip us up something..” 

“That sounds great,” she agreed, “But, I actually have something I need to go do today. How about I see you later? A movie or something maybe?” 

“Yeah, you know where to find me.” 

“Of course.” 

If today was going to be the most awkward day of her life, fine. She could handle it. Now arming herself with coffee, she had the feeling it was going to turn out just fine.What started with a flustered memory could lead to deeper conversations, and maybe even something more. First she had to confront Alex about his infidelity and then she can go back to these thoughts. Still, she giggled to herself as she thought about it—this was definitely going to be a morning they’d both remember.

Y/n parked her car in front of Alex’s apartment complex, her whole drive here she made up fake conversations to have with him in her head some of her intrusive thoughts started to get to her as she imagined much more crazy ways of how to confront him, but she knew she’d cry. She knew how hard it would be for her no matter what his answer was, yes or no, but she had to do it. 

Somehow she knew either way that she may be grateful it gave her the courage to break up with him in general. 

Getting out of the car, Y/n felt a mix of determination and fear. The weight of unresolved emotions pressed down on her chest as her shoes tapped against the pavement. She took a moment to inhale deeply, trying to steal a bit of calm before walking through the threshold that would dictate the direction of her life. She climbed the few steps to Alex’s building and pressed the intercom buzzer.

After a few moments, a crackling voice came through. “Who is it?” 

“It’s Y/n,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.

“Y/n? Oh, hey babe.! Come on up!” The excitement in his tone gave her a strange mix of hope and dread. Would he be as cheerful when they talked about the mess that had unfolded? 

When she reached his door, she hesitated, heart racing. Did she really want to do this? But even as the question surfaced, she felt the guilt gnawing at her. She owed it to herself.

Gathering her courage, she knocked. After a moment, the door swung open, and Alex stood there, looking casually handsome in a simple tee and jeans, a wide smile on his face. “Hey baby, It’s so good to see you. I thought you were hanging with your brother this weekend?” 

“Hey,” she replied, forcing a smile, even as her stomach churned. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah of course. Come in,” he said, stepping aside to let her through. As she entered, a rush of familiarity enveloped her—his scent, the slight clutter that was reminiscent of their time together. It should have felt comforting, but instead, it ignited a sense of dread.

She followed him into the living room, where the remnants of his gaming session littered the floor. The sight pulled at her heartstrings—how many times had they shared moments in this space? But those memories felt crushed by the deceit that loomed over them now.

“Wanna drink something? I just made coffee.” he offered, heading toward the kitchen.

“No, I’m okay, thanks.” Y/n tucked her hair into the back of her sweatshirt, feeling uncharacteristically fidgety. “Alex, I really just need to talk.”

“What’s on your mind?” He settled onto the couch, beaming with an eagerness that pitted her stomach against her better instincts. 

She took a breath, the words sticking in her throat. “I... um, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” 

“Yeah? About what?” His expression shifted to curiosity, and she suspected he had no inkling of the storm about to descend.

“About us, about everything that’s happened,” she started, trying to gauge his reaction. His smile faltered just a bit, and her heart sank. “I found out about the other girl.”

His demeanor changed instantly. The confident glimmer in his eyes vanished, replaced by confusion. “Y/n, I—”

“Let me finish,” she interrupted, her tone firmer than she anticipated. She crossed her arms, drawing strength from her resolve. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I just need to know if you even care at all about what this does to our relationship.”

“I do care! I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He looked defensive, yet Y/n couldn't muster sympathy at this moment. 

“Didn’t mean for what to happen? To hurt me? To also keep her a secret?” Her voice was steady, but her chest tightened as emotions swelled within. “How many times did you lie to me? How can I trust anything you say now?”

“Y/n, please. It was a mistake. I never wanted to hurt you,” he pleaded, his expression shifting from confusion to desperation.

“And yet, here we are!” she raised her voice,, feeling the anger rise, mixed with a sorrow that threatened to spill over. “I don’t know if you understand how this makes me feel. I didn’t deserve to be anything less than faithful.”

“Oh and your brothers friend is jus-” 

“Shut up for one goddamn second.” 

Alex opened his mouth in surprise, as if he was about to argue, but Y/n pressed on, the truth spilling out. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that we could make it work, that you’d change. But the more I think about it, the more I realize—it’s not just a mistake. It’s a choice you made. You don’t actually love me enough to just be with me.” 

“Y/n...” he started, but she cut him off again, her gaze unwavering.

“It made me realize I deserve better  than what you’ve given me. I need to take care of myself.” 

An overwhelming silence consumed the room. Alex’s face hardened as he processed her words, the reality of what was happening sinking in. 

“I just... I thought we had something special,” he muttered, hurt flickering in his eyes. 

“We did,” she whispered, a pang of regret cutting through her. “But that’s the thing, Alex. You fucking ruined  it.”

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she squared her shoulders. “We have to break up.” 

“Y/n, wait. I can change. I swear! Just give me another chance! I’ll do better!” His plea hung in the air, desperately. 

But she knew better now. “I don’t think I can forgive you for this. And I don’t think I want to try. I need to move on and find myself again.”

She turned to leave, heart racing in her chest. As she reached for the doorknob, Alex’s voice caught her once more. “I wish you’d let me explain...”

She paused but didn’t turn around. “There’s nothing left to say, Alex.” 

With a shaky breath, she stepped outside, the cool air hitting her like a wave of clarity. Y/n stood for a moment on the threshold, allowing herself to breathe freely for the first time in weeks. 

As she walked down the stairs and toward her car, the weight of the conversation pressed upon her, but in a different way. It was a weight lifted.

She took out her phone and texted Seungcheol. “IT'S OVER, lol. Can we still do that movie later? I could really use a friend.”

Seconds later, her phone buzzed with his response. “What’s over? Did you break up with that fucker? Thank god. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

A smile broke through her earlier sorrow, and she felt the corners of her heart begin to heal just a little. She hadn’t expected this day to lead her in a new direction, but she was ready for whatever came next. One awkward day down, and the next chapter was waiting.

On her drive back y/n knew she shouldn’t be thinking about jumping into her relationship with Seuncheol now, but she also knew she wasted so much time with other jerks never giving him a chance, but it’s what she wanted she just had to figure out how to make it happen. 

She pulled into Seuncheol’s driveway, bag of snacks in hand. Shutting her car door with her backside, nearly skipping up to his front door where he stood waiting for her with open arms dressed in his pajamas. 

The sight of him, all cozy and relaxed, made her heart flutter. Seuncheol's smile was infectious, and she couldn’t help but return it as she stepped into his warm embrace. The delicious scent of something cooking wafted through the door behind him, complementing the warmth and comfort he radiated.

“Well, well, well, Miss. Bad Bitch,” he exclaimed, pulling away and taking her bag of snacks. “I hope you brought my favorites.”

“Shut up,” she laughed, her heart dancing at how effortlessly they fell into this easy banter. “How could I come empty-handed to thank my therapist?”

Seuncheol chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Good point. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Together they sorted through the assortment of chips, candies, and cookies, playfully debating over which treats deserved a spot on their makeshift movie night platter. As they settled onto the couch, their bodies nearly touching, she found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t in a long time. The earlier unease faded, replaced by a sense of belonging as she sank deeper next to him resting her head on his shoulder swinging around a piece of licorice. 

“Alright, so what are we watching?” he asked, remote in hand. 

She bit her lip thoughtfully, her heart racing at the idea of sharing this moment with him. “How about something fun? A rom-com?” 

“Only if you promise to laugh at all the cheesy parts,” he teased, nudging her playfully.

“How about a bet that whoever cries has to jump in your pool… naked,” she shot back with a smile, feeling a thrill in their playful exchange. The movie began, their laughter filling the space as they munched on snacks, but she felt the real chemistry sparking between them, the edges of her heart warming with every shared glance and gentle touch.

As the story unfolded on the screen, she caught herself stealing glances at him, his focus entirely on the film yet his presence enveloped her like a warm blanket. Somewhere between the jokes and the popcorn fights, the realization struck—this was the moment she had been waiting for, the feeling she had longed to explore. 

“Seuncheol,” she said softly, causing him to look over, pausing the movie. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you crying?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Wow. I win!” 

Seungcheol punched the air, getting up faster than he ever has, stripping off his hoodie and running out the patio door, y/n chasing behind him, knocking over the entire bowl of popcorn on her way out. 

As she turned the corner to go towards his pool he snatched her up, jumping in with her in his arms. 

The splash echoed through the night as the cool water enveloped them both. Seungcheol erupted in laughter, the sound bright and full of joy, while Y/N squealed in surprise, her heart racing from the sudden plunge. 

As they surfaced, water cascading off their faces, Y/N couldn't help but scold him playfully, “What the Fuck. You could have warned me!” Her hair clung to her face, and she was momentarily blinded, but the thrill of the moment overshadowed any annoyance.

Seungcheol flashed her a cheeky grin, droplets sparkling on his skin. “Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, his eyes mischievous, reflecting the moonlight. 

Y/N glared, though her heart was still light. “You’re such an asshole!” she laughed, splashing water back at him, her instincts taking over as they devolved into a playful water fight. He countered with playful throws of water, their laughter mingling in the cool night air—full of energy, warmth, and the promise of summer.

He was talking her through the water, pinning her against his bare chest, they both paused, breathless and giggling their legs brushing against each other as she caught her breath. “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” she said softly, her voice playful yet carrying an underlying affection.

Seungcheol tilted his head, his smile softening. “Maybe. But this is way more fun than sitting inside watching movies.” He reached for her hair, swiping it out of her face, and for a moment, the world faded around them, he took a deep breath and kissed her, rummaging his hands under her sweatshirt which she reciprocated back, tugging at his waist band, dipping her cold fingers underneath to graze him slightly in an area they’ve never explored. 

“I’ve been thinking about us,” she confessed, the words tumbling out between their passionate kisses she couldn’t second-guess them. “I know this is sudden.. But, I.. uh.” she left a small whispering moan out of her lips, 

Kissing her deeply again smiling into it he just whispered, “But?” and then moved his lips to her neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist. 

She took a deep breath, her heart racing. “But I want to give us a chance. I want to see where this could go. I’ve never trusted anyone more than you.” 

A  huge smile broke over his face, as he pulled away for just a moment, as if her words were a key that unlocked something deep within him. “Really? You mean it?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, her nerves calming under the intensity of his stare. “I do. I know it’s sudden, but I’ve been in love with you my whole life.” 

His eyes widened with surprise “You… you’ve loved me?” The words slipped from his lips, almost hesitant, as if he were afraid to break the spell of the moment. 

“Yes,” she replied, her voice steady yet soft, the weight of her confession hanging between them like a fragile thread. “I never thought we’d get to this point, but here we are.” 

He leaned in closer again, his forehead resting against hers, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin. “I never wanted to rush you,” he admitted. “I just didn’t know how to tell you how I felt. It’s like… you’ve always been the only person I’ve ever wanted.” 

Her heart swelled at his words, a sense of relief enveloping her like a warm blanket. “So what now?” she asked, her tone playful but laced with sincerity. 

“Now? We figure it out together.” His voice was low and confident, reassurance flooding her senses. He kissed her forehead gently before pulling back slightly, his hands still locking around her waist. “I want to take our time, get to know each other in this way. There’s no rush.” 

“Okay,” she murmured, the smile returning to her lips. She hadn’t realized how much she needed his patient approach, how refreshing it felt to not be hurried into something that had the potential to change everything. 

He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Just know that I’m all in.” 

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away, caught in the sincerity of his gaze. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words.” 

“And now that you have, what do you want to do first?” he asked, a twinkle of mischief sparking in his eyes. 

She grinned, feeling a rush of excitement flood through her. “How about we start with dinner? A proper date, just the two of us, to celebrate this… us. Build up even more sexual tension between us just to make it fun” 

“Dinner it is,” he said, already beaming. “And knowing you a bet to who would break first.” 

“My bets on you, Cheol. You’re a man.” 

“Sure, Bunny. But you did already have your hands down my pants, I’m thinking you’re already a failure. But, I’ll let it slide this time.” 

“Well I’ll try to control myself,” she replied, feeling a thrill of possibility unfolding before them. With newfound hope in her heart, she knew this was only the beginning.

[just-aake]

Detecting Love Part 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel to Detecting Love. Can a spy who's been trained to lie her entire life show the person with the power to detect lies the truth what it means to be loved?

Warnings: fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 5171

Natasha Romanoff lies.

Now, that’s to be expected, considering she is one of the greatest spies in the world. Ever since she was a child, she has been trained to be able to deceive everyone she meets.

Lying comes as easily to her as breathing, and deception is woven into every fiber of her being.

A charming smile here. A flirty wink there. 

Sweet words flow from her lips like honey.

Making everyone fall in love with all of the different false personas that she created for herself.

With a life and a past as shadowed as hers, it makes sense why she never even dared to imagine finding a person who can tolerate, let alone embrace, someone like her.

Then, she met you.

With your unique power to literally see through lies, you can detect the truth from her even when she’s at her most convincing. And despite learning about who she was and how she is, you accepted her unconditionally, not just as a friend, but as a partner.

For Natasha, being with someone who can truly see her is scary, and yet, that feeling is also better than breathing itself.

The two of you have been dating for several months now, and Natasha has never been happier.

Even if she sometimes occasionally struggles to express her affection openly in public.

As the two of you stroll through the compound, her eyes drift down once again in contemplation to your hand swinging casually at your side.

As if sensing her silent deliberation, you suddenly ask her curiously.

“Do you want to hold my hand?”

Natasha straightens at your question and faces forward, responding promptly in an even tone, “No.” 

Now that is sure to sound honest to anyone else who heard it, but you’re different.

Natasha makes sure to trail back slightly behind your line of sight in an attempt to hide the glow she knows you’d probably see around her.

You don’t comment on her evading action, but a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you maintain your pace toward the Avenger’s personal elevator.

The two of you stand side by side, waiting for the elevator to arrive when Natasha suddenly feels the back of your hand lightly graze her fingers before quickly pulling away.

She narrows her eyes in suspicion at you, but you maintain an innocent expression, your gaze fixed on the decreasing numbers above the elevator doors.

Facing forward once more, Natasha is about to dismiss the action as an accidental touch when she feels it again – the fleeting brush of your hand against hers. 

This time, she doesn't hesitate to shoot you an accusing stare. Yet, you continue to feign ignorance, your expression a perfect mask of innocence. 

A couple of seconds pass before your hand makes contact with hers for the third time. 

Before you can retract your hand, Natasha swiftly catches it and intertwines your fingers with hers before letting out a defeated huff.

You don’t utter a word about her actions, but a subtle smile curves your lips, exposing your amusement at her reaction. 

With a soft squeeze of her hand, you pull her into the elevator, the door closing shut behind the two of you.

It's moments like these that remind Natasha why she fell for you — your ability to see past her lies, even the most trivial ones.

Once the elevator door slides open to the private floor, the two of you are met with sounds of a heated argument between the Asgardian Avenger and his visiting brother.

“I know you did it, Loki! This is not the first time you’ve taken and hidden a treasure of mine!”

“Oh, would you stop being so dramatic? We're talking about a mug, not some enchanted artifact.”

You raise a questioning brow at her, silently asking her whether you two should come back at another time, but Natasha shakes her head resolutely in response, not willing to let anything prevent her from missing her morning coffee.

As the two of you walk past the brothers, Thor finally notices the new presence in the room.

“Y/n!” he calls excitedly. 

His hand lands on your shoulder, catching you in place between the two of them which in turn pulls your hand from her grasp.

Thor’s other hand points accusingly at his brother.

“Is Loki lying about taking my mug?”

Realizing that you’re being dragged into the middle of the argument, your eyes dart to Natasha for help, only for her to give you a thumbs up in encouragement as she takes a sip of the coffee that she just poured from the freshly made pot.

The other Asgardian crosses his arms and snickers derisively at his brother.

“Do you really think that this simple mortal can expose the literal god of mischief? I didn’t take your stupid mug, and she can’t prove any—”

“He’s lying,” you answer plainly, seeing the red aura surrounding the Asgardian.

Loki shuts his mouth in surprise, blinking at you for a moment in disbelief, before pointing at you with a disdainful look.

“I don’t like her,” he states bluntly.

“Ah ha!” Thor exclaims victoriously. “You did take it!”

The two continue with their arguing as you discreetly sneak away to Natasha’s side.

She hands you a cup of coffee which you accept with a soft thanks before an alarm on your phone rings, showing your reminder for the day. 

You groan lightly in disappointment, causing Natasha to raise a questioning brow at you as she raises her cup for another sip.

“I have some interviews to get to this morning, so I’ll have to see you later,” you tell her before pressing a quick kiss goodbye to her cheek.

“I love you,” you whisper against her skin.

Swallowing her sip quickly, Natasha turns her head towards your direction, the reciprocating words also on her tongue.

“I—”

But you’ve already rushed away around the corner, disappearing from view. 

“…love you too,” Natasha finishes in a soft disappointed tone, her lips twisting at your action. 

Public displays of affection aside, Natasha has no problem wanting to tell you how much you mean to her.

But for some reason, you always seem to conveniently find ways to escape whenever she’s about to say those words to you.

“Now I’m no expert on relationships, but that right there was some cunning evasion tactic,” Loki comments, smirking at Natasha. “It appears that she’s not really interested in receiving such words from you.”

A slap on Loki's shoulder propels him forward a couple of steps as Thor reprimands, “Stop trying to cause problems for them, Loki.” 

He then turns to Natasha with a firm nod. 

“Don’t listen to him, Nat. Y/n loves you.”

Of course, she knows that. 

You whisper those words against her skin every morning when you think she’s still asleep and then again against her lips when you wake her up. 

The problem is that it seems that she never gets the chance to return the gesture before you find some way to rush away from the room or keep her mouth otherwise occupied and distracted.

A thud on the counter pulls her from her thoughts as Loki leans against the table with a mischievous grin.

“That girl can detect lies, right? Then why don’t you just tell her that you don’t love her, and then she’ll see the truth. That should be easy enough for you. After all, lying is your specialty,” Loki remarks before a smug expression forms on his face. 

“Unless that is, the truth is that you don’t actually love her,” he taunts.

Natasha glares at him silently, refusing to fall for his baiting provocation. Not wanting to give the trickster god any more amusement, she quickly downs the rest of her coffee and leaves for the meeting room, deciding to try again with you later.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

With the briefing finishing early, Natasha decides to visit your office during this break in between her meetings. Conversations flow around her as she walks past the front desk toward the administrative part of the building.

“I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t let you enter without an appointment.”

“Well, is there any way you can just send a message to Y/n to let her know I’m here?”

Natasha’s head snaps up from her tablet at the sound of your name and curiously turns to the person who said it, only for her eyes to widen slightly in surprise at their identity.

Your ex-fiancée 

Stopping in her tracks, Natasha redirects her attention to the two of them.

“What did you need to see Y/n for?” she asks.

Your ex turns to her at her question, and an expression of amazement crosses her face.

“Oh, wow, you’re Black Widow.”

Brushing off her awed exclamation, Natasha crosses her arm expectantly as she repeats, a slight tone of protectiveness entering her voice.

“Why are you looking for Y/n?” 

Noticing her serious gaze and intimidating demeanor, your ex fidgets with her hands nervously as she responds.

“It’s kind of a private matter with an old case that I need her help with,” she explains.

Despite being the one who broke your heart, your mutual break up with her meant that the two of you are still somewhat friends, and as much as Natasha wants to, she can’t prevent your ex from seeking you out, especially since it seems she needs your help.

With an internal displeased sigh, Natasha gestures with her head towards the direction of the elevators.

“I’m heading over to her office right now if you want to come with me,” Natasha offers, nodding at the receptionist reassuringly to indicate that it’s okay, before walking away without another word. 

Natasha hears your ex scramble to follow quickly after her once she processes her words.

As the elevator doors close with the two of them inside, Natasha pulls out her phone to send you a warning text.

I’m on the way to your office with your ex.

A read message quickly appears under her text, indicating that you have seen it, and then a text bubble promptly pops up as you respond.

?!?!?

“So, do you and Y/n work together often?” your ex asks, trying to fill the silence with casual conversation.

Natasha looks up at her question, tucking her phone away. She crosses her arms and leans back against the elevator walls, adopting an intimidating posture, as she gives her a hard stare.

With a calm yet assertive tone, she tilts her head curtly and replies with the truth. 

“She’s my girlfriend.”

An awkward silence fills the small space after her answer, and your ex’s eyes dart around the enclosed space, seemingly realizing she’s essentially alone with the Black Widow who just revealed that she is in a relationship with you. 

Sensing her nervous energy, Natasha relaxes her posture, offering a more friendly demeanor.

“Relax, if I was going to do something, I would have done it already,” Natasha reassures. 

Your ex nods hesitantly, acknowledging Natasha’s attempt to diffuse the tension. After a moment of contemplation, she gathers the courage to speak up again. 

“So, you know about Y/n and her ability?” your ex asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yes,” Natasha confirms, adding, “And about what happened between the two of you.”

The revelation hangs heavy in the air, plunging the elevator into an uncomfortable silence once again. 

Honestly, Natasha knows she shouldn’t keep putting your ex in these awkward positions with her responses. 

However, just because you are on friendly terms with her doesn’t mean Natasha has to be, especially considering she never held any goodwill toward the woman before.

Natasha redirects her focus to the digital display above the door, silently cursing and blaming Tony for the sluggish pace of the elevator. 

“I-I honestly did love her,” your ex confesses, breaking the silence once again.

At her statement, Natasha regards her with a raised eyebrow, silently prompting her to elaborate on her sudden declaration.

"I mean, Y/n’s great. It’s just…it got hard to imagine being with someone who always knows if you’re telling the truth or not,” your ex explains with a small sigh, offering a tiny sympathetic shrug before asking. “I’m sure you understand that feeling too, right?"

Irritation flares in Natasha’s chest at your ex’s words, her protective instincts surfacing in defense of you.

"Maybe the fact that she can see someone for who they truly are is what makes being with her so special," Natasha counters, her voice firm with conviction.

The remainder of the elevator ride passes in tense silence until the doors finally open with a ding, signaling their arrival at your floor. 

Throughout that time, one part of the conversation continues to bother Natasha, and she finds herself asking, wanting to know the answer.

“Did you tell her often?”

“What?” your ex asks, blinking in surprise and caught off guard by her sudden question. 

Natasha presses her lips together momentarily in displeasure at the topic before clarifying, “Did you tell Y/n that you loved her often, you know, before your feelings changed?”

“Oh, um, kind of,” she admits, a faint chuckle escaping her lips. “It’s actually kind of funny. Y/n would always have this cute little shy smile whenever I said it, so I ended up saying those words to her a lot.”

The irritation in Natasha’s chest intensifies at her answer, and her feelings must be evident on her face because your ex starts waving her hands frantically in a slight panic.

“But I’m positive Y/n won’t react the same way if I said it now,” she adds quickly.

Instead of responding, Natasha leaves the elevator without another word. 

Your ex’s reassurance does little to ease the irritation that she feels at not yet having been able to say those words to you herself.

The two of them arrive at the door of your office, only to find it locked with the lights turned off.

Just as Natasha is about to text you to ask you about your whereabouts, you emerge from around the corner, skidding to a stop in front of her.

Confused at your flustered state, Natasha gives you a questioning look as she asks, “Why are you rushing?”

You take a couple of deep breaths to catch your breath before answering.

“Because…I didn’t want to…to leave you waiting.”

Natasha feels her heart flutter at your words, her posture relaxing for a moment.

“…wow…you look good, Y/n,” your ex comments.

Natasha’s body immediately tenses again at the reminder of your ex’s presence, and she becomes further annoyed when she takes in the state of your appearance that prompted the remark from your ex.

You are in your usual workout outfit, a standard black tank top, showcasing your body with a gleam of sweat still on your skin, evidence of your workout session.

As if sensing Natasha’s increasing irritation, your ex gestures awkwardly in fear toward the waiting area some distance away.

“I’ll just wait over there.”

Natasha watches your ex walk away with a slight glare in her eyes. 

When she turns back to you, her expression instinctively softens with affection and curiosity.

“Where were you?” she asks.

“My last couple of interviews had to cancel, so I decided to go train for a bit,” you answer with a slight shrug. “You know, since you suggested that I try training whenever I’m bored and have some free time.”

Natasha's lips twist slightly in conflict at your response. She's happy you took her suggestion to heart, but now she's also upset that it led to you appearing in front of your ex in such a state.

Gesturing toward your ex, you ask, “Did she say why she’s here?”

Natasha sighs and shakes her head.

“She only mentioned that it was an old case that you can help her with.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding in understanding, probably already knowing what she’s referring to. 

Then you look at Natasha with a cute tilt of your head. 

“After I finish up with her, do you want to go out for some lunch?”

A small smile forms on Natasha’s face, her earlier irritation melting away at your suggestion. 

However, she knows she might not have enough time to wait and go out before her next meeting.

“How about I go ahead and pick up some takeout first, and then we can have lunch in your office when I return?” Natasha offers as a compromise.

You smile at her in response and press a soft kiss against her cheek.

“It’s a date.”

As you’re about to move past her, Natasha presses her hand firmly on your shoulder, stopping you and pushing you back to your original position.

You give her a questioning look in confusion.

“Did you take my hoodie again?” Natasha asks accusingly. 

Your eyes dart guiltily to your office before you mutter under your breath with a soft pout, “Maybe.”

Natasha nods slightly in contemplation, her eyes glancing at where your ex was waiting and then back to you.

“Put it on,” she says plainly.

You raise a brow at her in confusion and gesture to your body.

“Nat, I’m covered in sweat. I didn’t get a chance to hit the showers before you texted,” you explain.

“That text didn’t mean that you should come here all hot and sweaty in front of your ex like this,” Natasha remarks pointedly, crossing her arms.

A teasing grin pulls at your lips as a look of understanding crosses your face.

“You think I look hot right now?” you ask happily.

“Seriously?” Natasha deadpans. 

Unbothered by her signature intimidating gaze, you pull her closer by the loops on her belt and lean in with a slight tilt of your head.

“Are you jealous?” you tease lightly, your bottom lip caught in between your teeth as you try to hide your pleased grin.

Natasha rolls her eyes, though her lips quirk up briefly in amusement. She knows whether she responds truthfully or not, you probably already know the answer without the help of your ability, so she responds instead.

“Keep it up, and I’ll just come back with one takeout box for myself,” she warns.

You laugh lightly at her response, nodding your head in concession.

“Alright, I’ll put it on,” you promise, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. 

As you pull away, you whisper, “I love you,” the words brushing softly against her lips.

Natasha’s eyes had fluttered closed at the touch of your kiss, but they snapped open when she remembered she wanted to say those words back to you too.

However, to her disappointment, before she realized it, you had disappeared from her side. 

Turning around, she finds you already in your office, putting on her hoodie.

A mocking chuckle sounds beside her, and she turns to see Loki leaning casually against the wall.

“Oh, you didn’t even try that time,” he taunts.

Without hesitation, Natasha raises her wrist and shoots a widow bite at him. It flies through his body, dispersing the apparition that he had left there.

Groaning in annoyance at his presence, Natasha quickly leaves to go get your lunches before he can reappear and provoke her further.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“So this is the one lie detector that you can’t beat,” Fury comments with intrigue, as he examines your file.

Natasha closes the folder promptly and takes it from the table in front of him, stating firmly, “Her name’s Y/n, and no, you can’t have her. She’s just going to help review the list of potential recruits for you. Nothing else.”

She gives him a pointed look, stressing, “Especially not any SHIELD interrogations.”

Leaning back in his chair, Fury chuckles amusedly and raises a brow at her.

“Protective, are we?”

Before she can affirm the lengths she would go to minimize the risks you have to take, the door slams open, and you stroll in, giving her a wave and a charming smile. 

You stop in front of her, taking her hand suddenly in yours and giving it a light swing. 

“Ready to get started?” you ask. 

Natasha’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Something about your behavior was off and unlike you. 

She examines your expression critically, and then in one swift, fluid motion, she grabs your wrist and upper arm, pivots on her heel, and shifts her weight, seamlessly flipping you over her shoulder. 

With a resounding thud, Natasha slams you down onto the meeting table, the impact rattling the room.

Fury whistles lowly with a slight wince, a mixture of sympathy and admiration in his tone.

“Tough love, huh?” he remarks to her.

Natasha rolls her eyes at his comment and shakes her head, reaching to her side to grab something. She takes one of “your” wrists and snaps a golden cuff onto it. 

Immediately, the figure on the table shifts from your face and form to Loki’s. 

His eyes glare at her as he gathers his bearings, giving a slight grunt of pain when he moves.

“As if this woman knows anything about love,” he scoffs, standing up from the table with a groan.

Fury hums curiously at the sight of the trickster god, turning to Natasha.

“Who let him in here?”

Natasha sighs as she crosses her arms, replying, “Unfortunately, Thor and he are on friendly terms at the moment.”

Loki raises his hand and waves his finger at her in reprimand.

“Exactly. Now, is this any way to treat a guest of yours?” he taunts with a smirk before his eyes drift to the cuff on his wrist. His expression falls in recognition. “Where did you get this?”

A smirk forms on Natasha’s face as she answers, “Thor lent it to me when I asked. Since I know better than to just take his things.”

The cuff in question is an enchanted artifact that temporarily blocks the magical abilities of the wearer as explained by the god of thunder.

Loki scoffs in disbelief, placing one hand on his hips while waving his other wrist at her. 

“Hilarious, now take these off,” he demands.

Natasha’s smirk remains fixed as she shakes her head.

“I don’t have the key,” she admits, tapping her chin thoughtfully before revealing, “It must still be with Thor. But I’m sure you’ve already apologized to him for earlier, so you’d have no problem asking him to release you.”

Loki scowls, his expression darkening with disdain, and then he swiftly turns toward the exit.

“It’s no wonder that girl doesn’t want to accept any love from the likes of you,” he spits out angrily.

Natasha’s lips twist downward at his words, but before she can respond, a knock on the door interrupts the tense moment. 

Taking a calming breath, she calls out, “Come in,” already knowing who it is.

You open the door at Natasha’s invitation, only to dodge out of the way as Loki storms past you out of the room, muttering angry curses under his breath.

Turning back to Natasha, you notice the telltale red aura fading from around her and wonder what was the lie that you assume she had just told him.

As you approach her, Natasha’s contemplative, sullen expression quickly shifts to a neutral one when she catches your concerned gaze.

Before you can question her about it, Fury claps his hands firmly, looking between the two of you.

“Alright, let's finish this quickly then.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Seated on your sofa, Natasha hugs a cushion pillow closer to her chest, seeking comfort as Loki’s harsh words echo in her mind.

Is it just a coincidence that you manage to avoid her every time she’s about to say those words to you? Or is it possible that the truth is you don’t actually want to hear those words from her?

You place a bowl of popcorn on the table in front of her, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts as you finish explaining what your ex needed from you.

“So, I just need to submit my notes on the case so that the court can close it out,” you explain.

Natasha hums absently in acknowledgment, but her mind drifts back to her insecurities.

Was Loki just messing with her or were all of your previous evading actions really on purpose?

Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Natasha decides to settle this once and for all.

As you take your seat next to her and start the movie, Natasha initiates her plan. She quickly maneuvers herself over your lap, straddling you as her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing you firmly against the sofa with her body.

Your hand automatically rests on her waist and begins tracing light patterns against her side, but your lips twist into a small pout of confusion as you remark, “As exciting as this is, I thought this movie was your favorite.”

Natasha closes her eyes briefly, internally groaning at your adorable words and how incredibly in love she is with you. 

If only you could hear it from her for once.

Determined to not fail this time, she tries again.

“I lo—”

Her words are cut off, swallowed by you, as you pull her down into a deep kiss. 

Instinctively, she melts against your body, sliding her hands to caress the back of your neck, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss as she gets lost in the feeling of your lips moving against hers. 

Then, realization hits her, and she snaps her eyes open and pulls away. 

“Hold on, I’m trying to tell you that I—”

“I know,” you interrupt, your hand covering her mouth to stop her mid-sentence. 

That’s when Natasha sees it.

The fear in your eyes.

“I know,” you repeat, giving her a look of understanding before swallowing nervously. 

You close your eyes as your head drops to your chest, a sad chuckle escaping from you. 

“You know, in all my life, I have never been afraid to discover if someone was lying to me,” you admit, shrugging lightly. “I’ve always known that people can lie, so it’s never really surprising or hurtful when it happens.” 

You let out a weary sigh and look up to meet her gaze with a sad smile. 

“Except for that one time.”

Natasha knows what moment you are referring to — the night your powers revealed that your ex no longer loved you.

The memory flashes in your mind, vivid and raw, as if it happened only yesterday. The betrayal, the heartache, the crushing realization when the red aura appeared around her after she uttered those fateful three words to you.

Your attention returns to the woman in front of you, the one who helped heal your heart. The one who now holds it. 

The one who also has the power to hurt you in the exact same way, even though you know she won’t.

“I love you so much, Natasha,” you say with breathless adoration and honesty, but your expression pinches in fear as you continue, your voice trembling slightly. “But I don’t think I'm ready to hear it from you yet. Just…not those exact words.”

You sigh sadly, understanding how unfair your words are to her, and your chest tightens guiltily as you apologize, “I’m sorry. Look, I’d understand if you want to leave.”

You look away from Natasha, your mouth pressing together tightly, fighting the urge to cry. 

The silence stretches out in the room before Natasha gently cradles your face, bringing your gaze back to her.

“You make me happy,” Natasha declares firmly.

You give her a confused look at her words.

“Wh-what?”

Ignoring your question, Natasha continues, asking meaningfully, “Am I lying?”

Your eyes observe her for a moment, but you don’t see any indication of a red aura appearing.

“No,” you answer in confusion.

Natasha nods before continuing, “I don’t mind that your powers reveal truths about me, like the moments when I want to hold your hand or when I’m jealous.”

She tilts her head at you in question.

“Am I lying?” she asks again.

Still not seeing any red aura appear around her, you shake your head at her in response.

Natasha rests her forehead against yours, letting out a deep breath, before continuing, “I’m afraid that one day…” she pauses, taking in a shaky breath to prepare herself for what she’s about to admit out loud. 

“…one day you’ll wake up and decide that because of who I was, who I am now is not enough for you to stay with me anymore.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you go to reassure her, “I wouldn’t—”

“Am I lying?” Natasha interrupts, not wanting you to worry about comforting her at this time.

Your eyes soften sadly when you see the vulnerability and fear in her eyes at her words. 

You reach up to cup her cheek, your thumb caressing her face gently in comfort as you whisper, “No.”

Leaning against your touch, Natasha lets out a steadying breath to compose herself for the final part of her point.

“So when I say I can wait…” she pauses, looking into your eyes with a serious and determined expression, making sure you can see the sincerity of her next words. 

“…I’ll wait for as long as you need so that one day I can say those words to you…am I lying?”

You watch her carefully for a moment, but nothing appears to counter her claim. Realizing her intentions to reveal her feelings in another way, your heart fills with love and adoration for her as you answer with a soft smile. 

“No, you’re not lying, Natasha.”

She gives you a gentle grin and cups your face, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before admitting, “That’s because when I’m with you, Y/n, it never feels like I’m living a lie.”

A breathless, awed gasp escapes from you at her words, and you can’t help but pull her in closer, her red hair falling around you like a curtain.

“I love you,” you whisper against her lips, the words filled with genuine adoration for the woman.

Natasha smiles softly at your words and closes the distance between the two of you once again, her kisses tender and filled with all of her unspoken feelings. Her lips move against yours with gentle urgency, conveying everything she can’t yet say aloud.

The warmth of her touch, the sincerity of her kiss, and the way she holds you protectively — all of it reassures you. 

It doesn’t matter that those three words haven’t been spoken explicitly — her actions, her presence, the look in her eyes says it all already.

Natasha may be considered one of the greatest spies in the world thanks in part to her exceptional ability to lie, but even she can’t hide the truth from you.

Without needing to hear her utter those fateful three words aloud, you already know the truth in your heart.

That Natasha Romanoff truly loves you too.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading and for all the love that you all gave to the first part! I hope you enjoyed this one too!

[maxinemaxmayfield]

For the STWG daily drabble prompt: only one bed

(gen • 300 words • steddie)

Eddie marches down to the front desk, keycard clutched in his fist. There’s no stopping him, no matter how much Steve insists it’s fine.

“Hi, sorry, I think there’s been a mistake,” he dives straight in without any preamble whatsoever, and the lady behind the counter looks totally confused. “We booked a room with a queen bed.” He slides the key across the desk. “The one you gave us has two twins.”

“Oh.” She slides her glasses down her nose and looks between the two of them. “I just… thought you’d be more comfortable with—“

Eddie cuts her off, glancing at the name tag pinned to her shirt. “Listen, Janice? I don’t care for your assumptions or your small-minded ideals. Please just give us the room we booked and we’ll be on our way.”

“But, I mean, surely two men such as yourselves wouldn’t want to share—“

“Janice, I swear to god. All we want is ONE bed. Only one bed. We aren’t friends, or brothers, or business partners. We’re lovers. Yes, lovers in the night, so just give us our goddamn queen bed so we can spoon like the couple of queers we are, thank you.”

Janice turns beet red, mumbling to herself as she looks through the system before finally handing them a new set of keys.

“Room 402. Enjoy your stay?” It comes out as a question.

“You’re ruthless,” Steve mutters as they head back up in the elevator. Eddie just shrugs, clearly pleased with himself when he swings the door open to find a single, large bed in the middle of the room.

“Well, come on. We made such a fuss, we might as well make good use of it!” And with that, Eddie grabs Steve by the hands and tugs him inside their hotel room.

[midorisplash]

“Can I sleep in here?”

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo × Reader

Summary: You're spending the night with the triplets and your bestie Nick makes you sleep on the couch. You don’t like it very much... so you'll find somewhere else to sleep.

Warnings: Making out, mentions of commit issues, handjob, cum eating.

A/n: cracking my knuckles with this one, first time writing in so long but I was horny.

“Chris.” You opened his door with a knock standing at the door frame. “Hm?” He groaned twisting under his sheets his head pushed into his pillows. “Chris.” You spoke again. “Can I sleep in here?” He groaned loudly and turned onto his back sitting up on his elbows. “Hm? Why?” He mumbled his voice deep and raspy. “Cause the couch is uncomfortable, and it’s dark and lonely out there.” You spoke honestly. You saw, only from the moon lighting up his bedroom a grin spread across his face. “Just sleep with Nick.” “No, he always takes all the covers from me.” You spoke rolling your eyes and walking into the room closing the door behind you. “You won’t even know I’m here. Please.”

Chris groaned and finally nodded watching as you quickly walked over crawling into bed next to him. “You’re lucky I don’t like sleeping alone and Matt didn’t want me in his room tonight.” He spoke letting his body plop onto the bed his hands coming up to rub his tired face. “Why not?” You spoke. “Cause he’s yapping about some alone time.” He huffed folding his arms. “He’s like alone all the time, how more alone can you get.” You nodded at his words. “Why do you always wanna sleep with one of them anyway?” He sighed and looked at you. “Cause I get lonely, just how you felt.” You smiled looking back at him. “Well, was good I came in here then. We needed each other's company.” He nodded and smiled at you before it quickly dropped, he blinked looking back at the ceiling.

You noticed that reaction and frowned. “What was that for?” You spoke softly. “Nothing. It's stupid.” He smiled and chuckled to himself. “That just felt too intimate..” “It’s literally wasn’t at all.” You giggled. “Yeah it was you were like ‘I’m lonely’ and I was like me too, and then we kissed that’s basically what happened.” Chris spoke. You laughed quietly nudging his arm. “It's not funny, that's what happened..” He smiled. You rolled your eyes taking a breath. “You wish. What’s so bad about it being an intimate moment between us? The thought of that's so bad you had to look away in disgust?” “Cause it didn’t feel friend intimate it felt partner intimate. And I didn't look away in that way I was just nervous.” He grumbled the last party looking back to you.

“Oh, so partner intimates not okay between us?” You whispered looking back at him. “I- I mean… I didn’t say that…Yeah, it’s cool.” He muttered clearing his throat. “Umm, so you wanna start heading to bed?” You smiled at how fast he changed the subject, you could tell he had gotten nervous and shy from the silly conversation. You wished you could see his face better the moon wasn't light enough to show you how red you knew his face was, but you could see how almost puppy-like his eyes looked. So vulnerable that small moment enough to make him look and feel that way. As his friend you knew too well about his committ issues so that explained why he was getting so shy from it feeling so intimate. “I'm not that sleepy now, I wanna keep talking If that's okay.” You spoke sitting up enough you could look down at him. “You okay Chris?” "Y-yeah I’m fine..” He spoke softly.

You had always wanted to do something with Chris but because of your relationship with him and his brothers and of course his issues, you knew it probably would never happen. But in this moment you couldn’t help but ask a simple question. The worst he could say was no. “Can I kiss you?” He blinked but to your surprise nodded pretty quickly. You smiled and looked down at his lips letting your eyes fall close as you leaned down your lips connecting with his. He kissed back trying to keep up with the pace of your movements as you licked and bit at his lip. He moaned quietly and sat up so the kiss could deepen bringing a hand to rest on your waist.

You both sat fully up Chris's back resting against his headboard your hand trailing down his chest to the hem of his pajamas. He pulled away his lips wet and puffy from all your bitting. “D-do you wanna do more? It’s up to you.” Chris whispered trying to catch his breath quietly. You smiled and nodded looking down to where your hand was resting, further down his dick creating a tight tint in his pants. Chris felt embarrassed you saw him like this and couldn’t help but turn his head away from you wanting to hide his face. You looked at him bringing your hand up to his chin to make him look at you. “Pull your pants down.” “Okay.” Chris nodded taking a deep breath and holding it bringing his hand down and lifting his hips pulling his pajamas down just enough that his hard dick sprung out from his lack of underwear.

Chris let out his breath feeling it hitch just from the way you looked at it his body starting to tremble. You placed your hand to rest on his lower stomach using your index finger to rub in a small circle down to his groin. His hips twitched up erupting a chuckle from you, looking at his face. He had his eyebrows knitted together his lip tucked under his teeth he looked so ready for any simulation of his painfully hard dick. “C-come on.” He whispered and finally looked at your eyes. You smiled looking back at him. “I can tell you haven’t been touched in a while.” You spoke bringing your hand up to your mouth spitting in it. Chris nodded watching your hand closely holding his breath as you brought it back down to his dick finally granting him some relief of wrapping your warm hand around his erection.

He let go of the breath he was holding his head falling back onto the headboard, his eyes fluttering close. “Fuck.” He moaned thrusting up a bit. You slowly started to move your hand up and down his shaft looking at him to watch his face contort. With his pre cum and your spit it made your hand glide with ease rubbing over the head of his cock making his dick twitch each time. “Look at me.” You whispered. He tried to keep his head up and his eyes open to look at you biting at his lip to suppress his most pitiful moans.

You smiled and brought your free hand behind his neck starting to scratch his head rubbing at his scalp. “Ugh…Oh my god.” He whimpered grabbing your neck gently and pulling you back into a kiss that quickly became heated. You kept a steady pace of his leaky dick making sure to rub at his slit with every other pump. Chris groaned into the kiss his hand flying to the base of his dick holding it tightly. It was so embarrassing. He didn’t want you to think of him as a sex-less loser but that’s sorta what he was. Just from a few minutes of you jerking him off, he felt his stomach gain that familiar knot daring to break at any moment. His dick twitched in your fist and his legs twisted around the bed he couldn’t help but pull away from the kiss to look at your hand working his dick. “I’m gonna cum..” He whimpered putting his hand to his side to keep himself from grabbing your hand and making you stop. The overwhelming feeling of his orgasm about to rush over him making him whine and whimper without any care who would hear. You giggled and looked at his face taking in exactly how he looked. Sp fucked out, and he hasn't even came. “Go ahead, Chris, I want you to cum.” You whispered scratching the back of his head before gripping it roughly.

“Agh fuck! Fuck me… I’m cumming!” He whined his eyes closing tightly as the knot in his stomach finally ripped apart hard his orgasm rushing through him. He thrusted up his cum spurting onto his chest and oozing onto your hand. You looked down to watch and gasped with a giggle. You didn’t stop your hand jerking him off till he rode out his orgasm shaking and wresting around his bed.

You gave him a couple more pumps then let go of his hair and dick holding your hand out in front of you. He brought his hand to his lower stomach rubbing at it in hopes to calm his shaking body down. He panted hard and loud turning his head to look at you. “T-that..that was so fast. I’m sorry.” He spoke. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad I could help you cum like that, lonely boy.” You smiled bringing your hand to your face and looking at it a moment before sliding your finger into your mouth and tasting his cum.

He watched you in amazement a smile forming on his face. “Did you seriously just do that?” He spoke raising an eyebrow. “What about it, I wanted to taste you.” You smiled back sucking on your other finger. Chris rolled his eyes slightly taking a breath before speaking. “You’re amazing.” He spoke leaning in a kiss you again.

[earthtooz]

x : MY DILUC, MY EVERYTHING :*+ﾟ

in which: you tell diluc that klee finds him 'too boring' to be your boyfriend. he can't help but feel like she's right.

warnings: 1.3k words, insecure diluc who needs a little reassurance, mostly dialogue, klee being cute but also a menace, so much fluff with a dash of angst.

a/n: i have not posted anything in so long, but i wanted this to be my first fic of 2024 because i love diluc <3 i hope you all enjoy this little fic!

“What do you mean Mr Diluc is your boyfriend?” Klee asks, tilting her head to the side with an inquisitive look in her eyes as you bend down to her height.

“I mean that Mr Diluc is my boyfriend. My partner. We’ve been together for years now.” 

“You mean that Mr Diluc, right?” She raises a tiny hand in the direction where the red-haired in question stands. He’s immersed in conversation with Kaeya and Jean, but from one glance you can tell the estranged brothers are up to no good. Or rather, that Kaeya is having the time of his life provoking your partner.

“That’s the one. I think he’s the only one, Klee.”

Her pointer finger then comes up to her chin in contemplation, and her breath of contemplation materialises as a small cloud, condensating in the winter chill. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why is he your boyfriend?”

“Well, why wouldn’t he be?”

“No offence to Mr Diluc, but he’s so cold and boring!” She cries, clenching her fists to her chest, as if being ‘boring’ was a crime to humanity. “And he never smiles. He should smile more but I would find him scarier like that… so maybe he should stay the way he is: a total gloomy bum bum!”

You can’t help but laugh at her honest statement, muffling the noise with your hand. She blinks at you and wonders what she said that made you laugh, but you simply tell her that it’s nothing.

“Maybe, but I love that ‘gloomy bum bum’ just the way he is.”

“But… why? Y/n is so kind and knows how to smile! Mr Diluc is too sad and boring for you.”

Over the course of your relationship with the wine monopolist, you were met with resistance from various people who believed they wanted ‘the best’ for him. These were including, butand not limited to, businessmen, his admirers, and old aristocrats with wealth on the brink of collapsing. You never let their passive aggressiveness get to you, their comments burned to ashes by the way Diluc lights the way for you with his undying flames. 

Yet hearing a child, who has no real grip of the world beyond explosions and how not to blow up Monstadt, explain that Diluc shouldn’t be with you because he doesn’t know how to smile is… unbelievable. Her intentions are nothing but pure for her knowledge of the world has not yet been tainted by the nuance of human behaviour. As refreshing as it feels to have her support, any insults you hear about Diluc are unpleasant to hear. Though she may not hold any malice, perhaps her judge of character needs to be deepened.

“Sometimes, the coldest people are really the warmest,” you begin, gently wrapping her scarf around her neck. “Mr Diluc is one of those people.”

“Really?”

“Warmer than a fireplace, or a Pyro Crystalfly, or Jumpty Dumpty.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yes, but please don’t go blowing one up just to see how warm it can be. Jean already told you about the animals hibernating during winter, you shouldn’t go disturbing them.”

She tucks her hands behind her back, eyes downcast and ears flopped.

“Do you remember when Albedo took you to Dragonspine and when you melted a chunk of ice, crystalflies flew out of it?”

“They were so pretty and became super warm! I wish I caught one of them, but they flew away too quickly.”

“Mr Diluc is just like that ice with the fireflies. You just need to warm up to him and when you do, he can be one of the best people you’ll ever meet.”

“Will he fly away too?”

“You could keep an eye on him and find out.”

She nods, determination alighting in her eyes with the new task you assign her. Although you’re pretty positive she won’t ever succeed with it, you’re just happy you’ve found a way to show Klee that your lover isn’t as terrible as she deems. A flash of familiar red hair appears in your periphery.

“Dear?” He calls, capturing your attention. “Shall we head into the tavern now? It’s too cold to stay out here.”

Sparing one last glance at Klee who regards your partner with fire in her eyes, you can’t help but smile at the pure innocence in her heart. With a ruffle of her hair as goodbye, you take Diluc’s hand and stand, waving goodbye to the rest of the group before heading in the direction of Angel’s Share. Shuddering, you sink deeper into the wool of your coat and the warmth of his Pyro Vision, a perfect combat to the winter frost that’s covered Monstadt.

“You know,” you begin when both of you have arrived at the empty tavern and the red-haired has a fire started in the corner. He urges you to continue with a soft ‘hum’. “The conversation I had with Klee just won’t leave my head.”

“Oh? What’d she say?”

Sitting down on a cold stool, you keep your gaze on him as he walks behind the counter. It seems like he’s preparing drinks and snacks for you: some cheese, crackers, and grapes.

“First of all, she only found out today that I was dating you.”

“Oh? Jean or Albedo haven’t told her before?”

“I guess neither of us appear that much in conversation together. But she refused to believe it at first, being like ‘you mean that Mr Diluc?’, ‘why is he your boyfriend?’,” you laugh. “She thought that you were too gloomy to be with me and that I should be with someone who knows how to smile.”

His cheese knife halts, the sound of metal meeting wood slicing through the atmosphere. However, you’re too engrossed in retelling the story to notice the way he freezes.

“How silly. Kids really have the wildest presumptions and thoughts to match.”

Diluc continues preparing the food, stiff hands moving along the counter. You don’t say more than that, saving further conversation for when he’s done. As he sets the arrangement of crackers, cheese, and grapes down, it’s accompanied by a heavy sigh.

“What if… she’s right?” Asks the winery owner, voice no louder than a whisper.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I did, but I don’t understand why you think that way too.”

“Well, smiling isn’t my strong suit anymore and I’ve been told by the knights that the children find my expression too scary.”

“You know anyone can smile, right?” You ask jovially. “It’s not like a statistical impossibility-“

“It’s not just that,” he interjects sharply. Your smile fades, acknowledging Diluc’s sombre expression that clarified he wasn’t joking around like you thought. However, seeing the change in your attitude sobered him and that sharp glance fades, turning into something remorseful and softer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“No no, it’s my fault for not taking you seriously. Please, go on.”

“I’m quite boring, you know.” He fiddles with the ends of his leather gloves. “Did you never think that maybe what Klee said could be correct?”

“Never because she’s not correct. Honestly, Diluc, after all these years of being together and hearing what some people have to say about us, I never thought you’d think like this.” 

He casts his gaze downwards. “Because those people don’t know me like you do.” 

Two hands come up to cup his cheeks, gently directing him to look up at you and meet your kind expression. All inhibitions he had melt away at the sight of your smile.

“I can only hope they never do,” you reply simply, confidence lacing your words. 

Being with him is not easy. He is a busy man, one who manages the entirety of Monstadt’s wine business during the day and takes to the shadows to look after your beloved city at night. Yet, despite working with the sun and moon, he still gives all of him to you. For as long as Diluc will allow it, you hope to be the only person he’ll pick baskets of grapes with, play slow games of chess with, and freely lay out his convictions to. 

You’ll be damned to give up your spot beside him without a fight.

Diluc doesn’t believe he deserves the same. “You’re too patient with me. I’ve let you down too much for you to be this forgiving,” he grabs your wrists and gently knocks his forehead against yours. “I can’t give you everything you want.”

“You’re my Diluc, you already are everything.”

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[mead-iocre]

Pay Attention To Me | Leah Williamson x Reader 

synopsis: do you know what's worse than dating a football player? dating a football fan.

warnings: brief mention of sex

wc: 2.5k words

Sometimes you wonder to yourself what possessed you to date a footballer. You weren’t athletic or sporty, and unlike your athlete brothers, you didn’t enjoy any sport enough to stick to it. Your only means of exercise was pilates and the occasional trip to the beach in your cute bikini. 

So how did you end up dating a professional footballer? 

You found yourself thinking about that question as you sit curled up on one end of the leather sofa browsing the Chanel website on your laptop. On the other end of the sofa, with her legs sprawled out and a beer bottle in one hand, sat your girlfriend. Leah was dressed in a grey hoodie and matching grey joggers; her hair was down, which was a rarity these days due to the heat, streaks of light blonde strands framing her pretty face. From your place on the sofa, you are granted the most breathtaking view of the ocean thanks to the expansive glass walls. The horizon stretches as far as the eye can see; the sky painted in hues of orange, pink, and purple. As the sun begins to set, it casts a golden glow over the water, making the waves glimmer and sparkle.

The villa was gorgeous, and exactly like how the pictures showed it to be. You had chosen the place yourself, tempted by the promises of walking out onto the deck and being able to jump into crystal clear waters. The spacious overwater bungalow features polished wooden floors, high vaulted ceilings with exposed beams, and furnishings in soft, neutral tones complemented by cool-tone vibrant accents. When you showed pictures of the villa to your girlfriend, she took once glance at it and handed you her gold amex card. She didn’t even ask you for the price. 

Back to your own question earlier, the short answer was that Leah was attractive as hell. She was also everything you could ask for in a partner. She's got a cracking sense of humour, she's passionate about her job, family-orientated, and it didn’t hurt that she was the most gorgeous woman you had ever laid eyes on. She made sure to spend as much time with you around her busy schedule. She accepted that you were high-matainance, and gladly indulged you. Leah was the whole package. Sometimes as you lay in bed, when the night is still and quiet, you would take a moment to thank your lucky stars that she walked into your life. 

However, no one in this world is perfect– even someone like Leah Williamson.

Your girlfriend’s biggest flaw was that she is a football player–and by extension– that meant she was a football fan.

And that was the problem. 

Today was the 2024 Euros final. England somehow managed to slither their way to the tournament final and will be facing Spain to compete for the title of Champions of Europe 2024. The original plan was to head over to the Williamson’s house so everyone could watch the game together. However, your birthday happened to fall in the week leading up to the final. As a birthday gift from your very generous girlfriend, Leah had surprised you with a week-long trip to the Maldives. Her only condition was that she gets to watch the Euros final at the villa 

Uninterrupted. 

And being the good girlfriend that you are, you were more than happy to compromise. That is until you realise that Leah has pretty much ignored you the entire day. 

Well– maybe ignore is the wrong term. She was acting the same this morning– ordering a breakfast spread fit for champions by the time you woke up, booking a luxury spa treatment for the both of you at the resort, and even letting you run wild with her card at the nearby mall where there’s a strip of high-end stores with names like Cartier, Vacheron Constantin, and Dior. You came strutting back to the villa in your new pair of Jimmy Choo kitten heels, while Leah trails behind you, her arms full of shopping bags– all of them belonging to you.

However, you were what other people would call clingy. You craved attention and affection more than the usual person. Physical touch was your love language, and most of the time, your girlfriend was more than happy to meet your needs. 

But not today it seems. 

She was far too busy watching a bunch of men on telly chase a ball around a field of freshly cut grass to pay enough attention to you.

Finally getting board of looking at bags and shoes on your laptop, you shut it down and put it aside. Stretching one leg over the length of the cream white sofa, you nudge Leah with your foot. “Lee…”

Without even moving her eyes away from the screen, your girlfriend just hums in reply. Rude.

Another nudge with your freshly manicured toes. “Leah”

Finally he blonde turns to you, grasping your foot with one hand effectively putting an end to your incessant poking. “What, baby?”

“I’m bored” You pout at her. 

“Then watch the game, darling” She tilts her head towards the 85” Samsung TV that is mounted on the wall. Her hand was now lightly massaging your foot and your calves, probably sensing how tense you are. 

You groan in reply, your head falling backwards dramatically. “That's exactly what’s boring me, Lee” 

Leah just smiles, but it’s a bit strained. She just wants to watch the game, and you’re making it hard for her to focus. She’s usually used to your indifference for the sport that she happens to make a career out of. You only "enjoyed" football when your girlfriend was playing. You attended all her matches and would cheer loudly for her when she's on the pitch. Whenever Leah would drag you along with to watch football matches as a spectator with her, you would reluctantly agree– after many kisses and promises of shopping afterwards– and armed with the latest copy of Vogue to pass the time. If she wasn’t on the pitch, you did not care.

You sneak a peek at her, wanting to see if she would indulge you further, but she was already turning her attention back to the TV. Stupid tv. 

You rattle your foot that is still under her hand. You didn’t know where this was coming from but you had enough of being pushed aside for a game of football. “Leah!” 

And that’s when she snaps. 

“Fucking hell– would it kill you to be quiet! Can’t you see I’m trying to watch the match, mate?” She gestures wildly at the tv. Her eye brows were drawn together, the skin between them wrinkled. When she looked at you again, her gaze was intense– piercing almost.

You glare back at her, hoping she can feel your wrath from her peripheral since she has once agin directed her eyes back to the tv. “m’not your mate” 

You huff audibly, snatching your foot back from her grasp. You could feel the annoyance bubbling up inside you. Sure, you had both compromised that Leah gets to spend one day to watch the game uninterrupted. And yes, you did get your girlfriend all to yourself during the last five days, but you couldn’t understand why she was pushing you away like this. You were being selfish, but who wouldn't be when their girlfriend is being uncharacteristically mean about it.

When you were in one of your moods, you had a habit of muttering under your breath when things don't go your way, making scathing, albeit humorous, remarks. It wasn’t long before the sounds of you grumbling under your breath could be heard by your now equally moody girlfriend. 

“bloody football…this was supposed to be a birthday trip yet my girlfriend is spending time watching ugly men kick a ball around…we could’ve been snorkelling and exploring the reefs or having sex on a yacht but nooooooo apparently football is more interesting”

Sometimes Leah found it cute but other times, like today, your grumbling was annoying and it was distracting her from the game. The blonde just wants an hour or two to watch football uninterrupted, yet you can't even give her that. She smacks her hand down hard on the sofa, startling you and putting an end to your angry muttering. Leah turns to you and glares. “If you want to keep grumbling like that go do it somewhere else. You’re actually fucking pissing me off. don't know why I even put up with you” She groans the last bit as she rubs her forehead like you were some sort of nuisance to her.  

That did it. 

You were annoyed at the lack of affection from your girlfriend, and the same person that you wanted attention from was now mad at you. You glare at her right back, but your eyes were starting to water and you were getting the sniffles.

Wrestling the blanket off your lap like you were fighting an alligator, you swing your legs off the sofa, ready to stomp to the room and slam the door like a mature lady when Leah grabs your arm before you can move. “Sorry. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, baby” 

You angrily wipe away a traitorous tear as it slides down your cheek, trying to shake off the blonde’s grip but she holds firm. She moves to stand on her own two feet until she’s standing in front of you. Leah crouches down slightly, forcing your eyes to meet her blue ones. She frowns when she notices your tear stained cheeks. “Darling…hey, look at me, please”

You meet her eyes, albeit reluctantly. She rewards your effort with a kiss on your wet cheek. “I didn’t mean it. Don’t cry, please. You’re breaking my heart, baby” 

“Oyarzabal…Cucurella! 2-1 SPAIN!! Time is running out and Spain are nearly there. Oyarzabal hooks the ball out left to Cucurella, who beats a flagging Walker with a lovely diagonal ball into the box.The substitute is stretching ahead of Stones, having timed his run to perfection in between England's two centre-backs, and slides to put Spain back in front. This might just be it for England…”

Shit.

You head snapped towards the tv in shock, your annoyance disappearing. While you weren't personally rooting for any of the two teams, your English girlfriend was rooting for England so you automatically were rooting for England too. Not that you would ever admit it out loud.

You were anticipating a slew of cursed words from the Milton Keynes native, but her eyes had not left your face once, far too concerned about making sure you were okay. You were her number one priority, always. 

Taking a step closer to her, you rub the sides of her waist lightly. It was your turn to comfort your girlfriend. You hug her, pressing your head against her chest to listen to the rhythmic beating of her heart. It’s soothing and familiar, and any lingering feelings of frustration have completely disappeared. 

“The lads can pull one back” You say to her, peeking at the time running at the left top corner of the screen. Your girlfriend still hasn't said anything and you assume it's because she's sad about the score. “They’ve still got 10 minutes to equalise– plus additional time to play.” Just because you weren’t the biggest football fan out there did not mean you didn’t understand how the sport works. 

“Quit thinking about the match for a minute, baby, I don’t care about them right now. Are you sure you’re okay?” Leah pulls back slightly, cupping your face gently, and you lean into the warmth of her palms. 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Lee. I was just been silly” You pucker your lips up at her, and she grants your request with a grin. She kisses you once, and then again, pecking your lips repeatedly like she can’t get enough of you. 

You give her one more kiss, giving her a sharp bite on her lower lip before you pull away completely. Leah frowns at that, her eyebrows furrowing in displeasure. 

“I’m going to grab my laptop and watch Desperate Housewives out on the hammock. I’ll leave you to your football–alone– so you can focus.”

“What no. Baby, you can’t leave me when we’re one nil down during a Euros final” Leah gestures animatedly at the TV, the scoreline still showing Spain in the lead. “Stay with me. Watch your show right here with me” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

Without waiting for you to reply, Leah began pulling you by the hand back to the sofa. She sat down, tugging you onto her lap. You just laugh, not even bothering to reach for your abandoned laptop on the other side of the sofa. You snuggle into her, your chest pressed together, tucking your face into the crook of her neck. Just because you agreed to stay with her, doesn’t mean you were interested in watching the match. 

A buzzing from the inside of your short’s pocket startles you slightly. You glance at the screen, reading the text, and then gasp. 

“love, my Chanel sales associate is asking me if I’d like to book an appointment at their store to see their new collection! There’s actually a cute bag that I've been thinking about…"

Leah hums, distracted slightly, not even looking at the phone screen that you are practically shoving into her face. “Yeah, we can get your bag once we arrive back home” 

You squeal, already texting your sales associate to go ahead and book you in. 

“–only if England win it” The typing stops and your heart drops. Your celebration cut short. 

“w-what…b-but, love…” You look up at her to see if she was serious, and to your dismay there's not a hint of playfulness in her gaze. She's serious. Glancing back at the screen, you see England have only 5 minutes left to equalise if they want to play for additional time, but the seconds are ticking by quickly. 

Scrambling off your girlfriend’s lap, you take your place beside her on the sofa instead. You have never been more motivated to cheer for a team your girlfriend was not playing for. Mustering all the manifestation in the universe, and your desperate need for that Chanel medium 25cm double flap shoulder bag in pink quilted lambskin leather with silver metal trim, you shout from the top of your voice “C’mon, England!!”

Leah just laughs loudly beside you, yelling and whooping too. 

However, sports can be a cruel thing sometimes.

England did not end up winning the Euros, much to the dismay of your girlfriend— and probably an entire nation. However, you got your bag anyway. Leah could never say no to you. She would give you the entire world if you asked for it, but luckily all you wanted is a pink Chanel bag– for now. 

More spoilt!reader x Leah because you all seem to enjoy her.

I wrote this the day after the Euros and then abandoned it because I got stuck and experience a writer's block halfway lol. Hope it still delivered.

-- kisses, butter.

[bea-does-stuff]

𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐇𝐒𝐑 𝐱 𝐘𝐍)

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 696

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: 𝙎𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘿𝙧 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩𝙮, 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙡𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙮𝙣'𝙨 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙩 ^^

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎

Arguments with him are nothing less than common, with his genius complex and snappy attitude, you both end up initiating an argument about something neither of you truly care for, and of course, you're the one who usually ends up apologising, even when he was in the wrong

This being said, one time, there was one time, he went too far

“God! I truly wonder how you manage to exist and function with that sad excuse of a brain!” veritas snapped, you were use to him saying stuff like that, and you knew he never truly meant them, but it was getting so repetitive you had enough

You didn't even bother responding, you simply slammed the door and headed outside for a break, and as for veritas, he probably cooled himself off with a relaxing bath

It was only when he was done destressing, when he realised the horrible way he spoke to his dearest partner

Upon your arrival, he initially tried to give you space, he stayed in his library reading, as you did your own thing, but the guilt stabbing through his chest slowly became too intense for him, and he quickly rushed to where you were

“Dearest,” he mumbled, you didn't give him an answer, he didn't deserve it

He huffed at your comment and left house, which left you stunned initially, until he returning home with a bag full of your favourite foods, as well as flowers and a plush of your favourite animal

It was so clique, but he didn't know much about this topic, he was always superior, he never had a need to apologise to others, but he wanted to apologise to you, out of respect for you

You sighed and nodded “its fine, veritas” he looked away, scoffing as his cheeks bloomed a faded pink 

“Good. that is good.” he whispered, you had to know dr ratio pretty well to sense the relief in his tone

“I must say, this is a very thoughtful way of apologising, 5 points” you teased, he rolled his eyes, fighting back the small smile crawling up his face

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘

He is prideful, very prideful, and when he has an opinion, he leaves no room for others input or objectively wrong opinions, which makes it almost impossible for him to apologise

Arguments with him feel like speaking to a wall, on very rare occasions will he say anything, almost making it seem like this situation was…meaningless to him, like your feelings were meaningless to him

This one day made you snap, and you actually began to sob quietly while you were arguing

This made him glance back at you, a look of surprise and…dread on his face

“My angel…” he mumbled, but you rushed out before he could say another word, leaving him alone with his racing thoughts

Despite being a cold, rational and controlling serafin, he is a very paranoid individual, and his mind began to flood with possibilities of you leaving him behind to find someone better, or thoughts of you growing to hate him and seeing him as the control freak others label him as.

Because of this, he let you have your space, and spent an hour or two asking his dear sister robin for advice, she was a lot more well versed in tending to people's feelings and apologising for making someone hurt

Once robin was done lecturing his brother, sunday returned to the house, finding you buried under a layer of cushions and blankets

“Angel…i…” he took a deep breath and looked at you with those…piercing yellow eyes

“The way…that i disregarded your feelings…it..it was unacceptable and cruel” you slightly lifted the blanket on your face, staring at him, still slightly upset

“I…deeply apologise, you don't deserve such cruelty from a man who dares call himself your lover”

You sighed, a sad yet relieved smile on your face “you apologising is a strange occurrence, so i know you mean it”

He brought you to his arms, his wings fluffing up due to how happy he was to have finally worked up the courage to apologize and make you smile

Robin would indeed be proud

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Whether in the solitude of his room or surrounded by family, all Azriel can think about is you. He would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Angst, Mourning, mention of suicide

Word Count: 3652

Notes: I don't even know where this came from. I was listening to sweet music by hozier and thought "what if I gave Azriel more trauma". The idea popped into my head and it basically wrote itself. I can't believe I have to say this but with this fandom I'm not risking it: this wasn't written to hate on Elain (or any other character) or incite anyone else to do so. Keep your stupid fights off my post, please and thank you. Hope you enjoy!

Part 2

Another family dinner at the river house meant another night of watching everyone around him happy and in love. Azriel didn't think of himself as egotistical, would never think the love his brothers are experiencing is undeserved either, but it reminds him of a time where he was the only one in the Inner Circle with a partner, of when his brothers were the ones confessing to him how jealous they were of how he had found someone that loved him so much, of a time he never thought would have an end. It reminds him of you.

He looks himself in the mirror as he buttons up the navy shirt, trying to ignore the vacant room behind him. If you were here with him you would have been making jokes about his insistence on keeping the blue theme going in his clothes even though he swears he doesn't think too much about what to wear or his appearance in general.

On a good day, you'd be helping him with the small buttons right now, with shadows swirling around your legs and looking up at him the way you knew would take his breath away every time. On an even better day, he'd have your back pressed against his chest, his fingers inside your familiar heat, the other hand wrapped around your throat so you could watch him play with your body, panting his name and clawing at his arm, pleading with him to keep going, to let you touch him. He'd be late for an entirely different reason, not for getting held up talking to his spies, and then getting lost in his memories.

Sensing his thoughts, his meddling shadows move to his desk, filtering into the drawer they knew held a small velvet box. The dark wisps carefully picked it up and set it on top of the dark wood. Leaving it there and moving back to their original places around the darkened room, letting him decide for himself if he wanted to open it or not.

It had been a while since the last time he touched it, busy as he was these days. There were times he would sit and look at it every day, sometimes without even daring to open it and look inside. But there were also times where even the sight of the navy velvet would suddenly suffocate him with the reminder of your sweet scent, one he would never be able to smell again. It would make him hide the box at the back of his drawer, the back of his mind.

Over the last few years, his reactions to it had gotten milder, an unwilling acceptance of the fact that he would never see you again allowed him to reminisce on the happy memories you had together, even the sad ones, every little fight you had seemed so inconsequential now, he'd give anything to be able to have any moment with you back, to hear you say his name one more time.

He walks to the desk, only hesitating for a beat before grabbing and opening the box. His heart throbs as he stares at the ring sitting inside, thumbing at the empty space left behind by it on his finger instinctively. He had never liked rings, didn't like anything that brought attention to his hands or rubbed against the rough skin but the moment you slid the silver ring into his finger it felt right, he had never wanted to take it off. Azriel would wear a ring on each finger if it showed the world he was yours.

He wore the ring for an entire decade after you died, even after all hope that you could still be alive had left him, he couldn't bring himself to let go of it, to let go of you. His mother had been the one to tell him he needed to stop wearing it, that holding onto it, onto the past would only bring him more heartache. He could still hear her begging him with tears in her eyes, not bearing to see her son in such a state, but he had only actually taken it off when Rhys was taken by Amarantha.

He had thrown the ring into the Sidra that night. He's not sure if it had been anger, frustration or simply hopelessness that drove him to it in that moment. He was tired of not being able to protect anyone, tired of losing his people, the people he never thought he would even find when he was just a boy sitting in a dark humid cell. It must have been that boy's pain, still inside him, that drove him to act like that. If it hadn't been for his shadows immediately flying after it he would have lost it, wouldn't have this reminder of a happy time sitting in front of him right now, it had helped him ground himself more than once during the years following that night. His shadows had saved him from himself once again.

He closes the box gently, rubbing at the smooth texture of the velvet, trying not to let himself get lost in your memory and the bitterness that followed at the injustice of it all. Your marriage had only lasted a little over a decade, he's had to live with your ghost for much longer than that now. Still, he knows he won't forget that time no matter how many more years he lives, and, even if it's another five centuries, he knows he'll still wish he had had the chance to spend them all with you.

Some of the pain has dulled, most days at least, but the guilt still eats at him. He should have known something was going to happen, should have reached you sooner, should have told someone to go with you, should have gone himself, should have been the one to die in your place. The millions of possibilities will likely invade his brain until his last breath, after which he'll finally be able to see you again. That was another thought that had consumed him far too often in the beginning. If it wasn't for his mother, his brothers and Mor, if it weren't for the pain it would cause them, he would have taken Truth Teller to his neck just for the chance to see you one more time.

Azriel? His wings go rigid and he tightens his hold on the box at the sudden intrusion. He tries to push his thoughts as far back into his mind as he can before lowering his mental shields, almost letting out a sigh of relief at finding them in place, hoping his brother couldn't get a glimpse of his thoughts. He hands the box to his shadows so they can safely place it back inside his drawer. Are you still coming, brother?

Yes. He moves back to the mirror and finishes buttoning his shirt while trying to keep his tone as nonchalant as possible. However, the hesitation on the other side tells him Rhys sensed exactly what was holding him up in his room, he knows him better than anyone after all.

Hurry then. We're all waiting for you. Azriel closes his walls as soon as he feels his brother's absence in his mind. He knows they miss you too. They had welcomed you with open arms and considered you part of the family after their marriage. Everyone in the Inner Circle took a big hit when you went missing. He will never forget Cassian's face when he arrived to see Azriel kneeling down in a pool of your blood, with no body to be found. His brother wore his heart on his sleeve and it had shattered that night. There were countless sleepless nights for everyone following that moment.

They all threw themselves at finding you in any way they could. There was enough blood on the floor to tell them you had died but none of them wanted to believe it. Azriel talked to every single one of his spies multiple times, ordering them to track every movement in their respective areas. Rhys sent letters to every ally he had and then joined Cassian and Mor in searching every corner of Prythian personally. Even Amren, ever the logical emotionless one, searched for you with every means she could, contacting friends the spymaster didn't even know existed. But, one by one, they all had to accept the truth, Azriel ending up being the most hesitant to.

He had long since killed the attackers, putting them through as much pain as possible for as long as he could keep them alive, making them regret ever touching you. But that didn't help with the gaping hole in his chest, nothing helped. They didn't know how to find your body either. Rhys looked through every corner of their minds and only found them leaving you behind, bleeding on the cold ground.

Rhys refused to show him the memory, no matter how much he begged him to let him see you one more time. Now he knows his brother was just trying to protect him, not wanting that to be Azriel's last memory of you, with the amount of blood left behind he knew you couldn't have been in good shape, but at the time he lashed out at his brother like he had never done before, probably would have killed him in blind rage if it hadn't been for Cassian trying to hold him back and if Rhys wasn't Rhys. Thinking back he should have thanked him instead, for holding onto such a painful memory and keeping it to himself so no one else had to suffer from it.

Even if he couldn't see you again, he still wishes that he had your body to bury at least. Azriel doesn't know how the Mother could be so cruel as to not only let you die so soon, so painfully without at least letting him find your body so he could put you to rest next to your parents' graves. It would also give him a place to talk to you, to feel as close to you as possible.

The pain almost came back in full when Rhysand first told him about Feyre. Jealousy had reared its ugly head at the fondness in his brother's gaze, the slight tint to his cheeks at just saying her name. He was happy for Rhys, especially after everything he'd been through, but that happiness couldn't hold a candle to the pain he felt. He remembers the night he confided in his brothers about the lovely female he had met, how she had told him she loved him, it had been much like that one.

To make matters worse, the first thing he remembered when Rhys told him about his mate was a stupid bet the two of you had made - you had been adamant that Cassian, as sweet as he is, would be the next to get married, Azriel had voted for Rhys, one of his many conquests were bound to work out one day. He won and yet he didn't feel victorious at all. He couldn't even tell you of your loss, see how pouty you get when it happens, ever the sore loser. Didn't even remember the prize but there was no way for you to give it to him now either way. What hurt the most was that he couldn't even tell you his brother had found his mate. These were the best news in over a century and he just wanted to share them with you, wanted to share everything with you.

He takes another look at the mirror with a small sigh, straightening his wings and making sure his face doesn't give anything away before calling to his shadows. He feels them wrap around him slowly, giving him some comfort before taking him directly to the river house.

“Almost thought you weren't coming.” He was still half covered in shadows when he heard Cassian's voice. Everyone was standing around talking to each other, waiting on him. The guilt was tugging at his heart strings again. Why would he ever feel like he needed more than a family that loved him? Who was he to think this wasn't enough for him? It was something he could only dream of when he was younger.

“He's here now. That's all that matters,” the smile Feyre gave him was warmer than usual and her hand lingered on his shoulder for a second too long. Azriel looks over to Rhys, finding him already looking at him, studying his face. He had told his mate of whatever he sensed in his mind then. He hoped neither of them brought it up at least, now or later. What good would admit he misses his dead wife do? No one can bring you back to him.

“Finally. I'm starving.” Cassian clapped his shoulder as he passed by him on the way to the already set table, sitting down immediately. Everyone followed in his footsteps, greeting Azriel and finding their seats. Seems he really had kept them waiting.

Conversation picked back up naturally and he let himself fall into the usual rhythm of these dinners, letting his body relax around his family, forgetting about his old life for the moment. He walked over to the already set table and took his seat next to Elain, as it usually was these days. The seating arrangements had moved around a bit over the last years to accommodate not only the new additions to their little circle but also the relationships in them. He used to always sit next to Cassian but now had given the seat up to his beautiful mate. It left him next to Elain most times since they were the only single fae at the table.

Elain gave him a soft smile as he sat down and he nodded at her with a smile of his own. They had been getting closer ever since she was turned to fae and started living in Velaris. Her quiet nature quickly drew him to her, feeling at ease almost immediately with the middle Archeron sister. But he had to have been blind not to see the way she looked at him, not to notice the enamored smile she gave him.

Sometimes he let himself wonder if things could work between them. She had a mate but it was clearer with each passing day that she didn't feel anything for the male tied to her. It was also obvious how well Azriel and Elain got along, fitting into each other's lives almost seamlessly. He didn't love her but couldn't say seeing himself fall for the lovely female was such a far-fetched idea. She was a beautiful and kind fae, loving her would probably be as easy as breathing.

When everyone had been made aware of the mating bonds, he had even considered if the Mother had made a mistake. His two brothers had ended up with two of the sisters after all. Now he can see he was just desperate for a bond like theirs. In truth, he wouldn't even know what he would have done if Elain had truly been his mate. Would he finally put you behind him? Would he have thrown the ring away again, for good this time? He knows he couldn't bring himself to even with the power of a mating bond. You were etched deep into his skin just like the bargain marks inked into his shoulders.

As the dinner moved on and they made their way to the sofas in the sitting room, his family was already more than lively. Mor had busted out one of Rhysand's old wine bottles, setting the mood for the rest of the night. Azriel had completely relaxed by then, letting himself enjoy their company, his shadows retreating almost completely around the room. Finally having some reprieve from the particularly insistent thoughts that were plaguing his mind today.

Cassian was telling a story he had heard a thousand times now but he still laughed along with everyone else. Listening to Cass tell the story so many times wouldn't make the fact that he had flown straight into a river any less funny. Azriel even remembered the following part, the one Cass doesn't include in the story which was after they pulled him out and he had gotten sick for a week, making him miss practice and lose every spar with him and Rhys for the next months.

Even old stories had a new life with new people around, it was the first time the sisters heard this one, judging by the slight tint to Nesta's cheeks as she laughed at her mate and how hard Feyre was clutching at Rhys' arm to ground herself. Even Elain was laughing hard enough that her body was shaking. Her laugh was soft and melodic, a lovely sound really, but it suddenly opened a familiar pit in his stomach. It reminded him of you. She wasn't quite as loud and her eyes didn't immediately water like yours but the way she raised her hand to her face was similar. And just like that the illusion of happiness he had created shattered.

She was nothing like you but he still found you in every thing she did, in everything anyone did. He couldn't go to half of the city's bakeries and shops without thinking of you and every moment you spent there. He had even changed rooms in every one of Rhysand's houses, not bearing to sleep in the same bed you had held him in. Everyone in the Inner Circle had learned to avoid certain topics, certain stories in fear they would remind him of you. Even your name was rarely mentioned unless he did so first or strictly necessary. Every thought of getting over you was nothing more than wishful thinking. It was like his entire soul was begging him to go to you, but you weren't anywhere in this world.

This had to be one of the worst parts of his routine lately, having to take extra care to school his features when spending time with his brothers and their mates. If his face showed any sign of how much he missed you, how much he wished he could hug you to him just like they can do with them, they would immediately look at him with pain in their eyes, pain for what he lost and will never get back.

It had taken too long to get used to how differently they treated him after what happened. He had to start a fight to get them to stop treating him like he could break at any second when it was the truth. They knew it as well as he did, but they also knew that they had to let Azriel mourn in his own way, that there was nothing they could do besides stay by his side.

You weren't mates - maybe the pain he feels would never compare to what his brothers would go through if their mates ever met the same fate as you - but that had never mattered to him. His soul sang for you the same way he sang for his shadows, you were written into his very being just like they were. And, most importantly, there wasn't a single fiber in his body that wanted to live without you.

Even a mate could never erase you from his memory, even if you had been alive. He doubts if a mating bond had snapped between you two at the time, you would have gotten any deeper into him than you already were. He can't imagine loving you, wanting you more than he already did was possible.

He felt his shadows move to him, almost sending them away thinking they were coming to comfort him again, hiding him from the world as usual. Their urgency gave them away, and by the way Rhysand's body tensed across from him he also had noticed something amiss.

“What happened?” The High Lord's voice cut through the atmosphere immediately, everyone looked to him for an explanation and got ready for any possibility. His entire body stood still when his shadows told him they felt someone winnowing into the townhouse.

“Someone's in the townhouse,” he stood up as he spoke, sending some of his shadows out to find out as much as they could and the rest around Velaris to check if there were any other disturbances.

“Who could get past the wards?” He felt a shield around them, Rhys had likely set it up around his house. Cassian's siphons were flickering red as they all prepared for what could come next. Velaris was more than well protected, especially after the attacks before the war, but the High Lord's homes were nearly impossible to get into uninvited, Azriel himself had helped make sure of it.

“I don't know,” he held onto Truth Teller as he waited for his shadows or his High Lord and Lady to find something. His shadows were being strangely lax about the whole situation, maybe this was someone who knew of a way to go around his gift, keep them distracted.

It took longer than usual to receive a response from them, making him and everyone around him more concerned by the second. By now everyone was donning a sword or weapon of some sort, only waiting on more information before splitting up to keep Velaris safe and find the intruders.

When his shadows finally appeared they wasted no time rushing to his ear, at last sensing his urgency in the matter. Their answer was one nothing could have prepared him for, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.

His shadows came back carrying a once familiar tune. They came back singing your name.

[strawburry01]

She Blinded Me With Science

Summary: You and your college bestie Ford go hunt for the Mothman

AN: 2.6k words, there's some flirty friendship moments

Part 2

Hope you enjoy :)

“Forddddd!” you shouted as you slammed at his unfortunately closed dormitory door, “open up Pines I know you’re in there you haven’t left all day!” you continued as you kept knocking louder.

“For god's sake how do you know that?” his muffled voice came through the door.

“Your desk light has been on all night and all day you dork, I know you’re neurotic about turning that light off!” you huffed as you finally stopped knocking. You heard some shuffling of books and chair legs on the ground as Ford eventually opened the door a crack. For supposedly having the nicest dorms in the east coast, you and Ford were both guilty of turning your respective rooms into chaotic mixes of museum, library, archive, and photo studio, in your case. You could see the precarious stacks of textbooks and notebooks behind Ford’s bespeckled face. He looks like he didn’t sleep last night, evidenced by his glasses at a slant and his brown hair mussed up around his forehead.

“Can I…come in?” you asked as you attempted to poke your head in closer, which caused Ford to nearly shut the door in your face. The two of you had met in your first week of university, both sitting in the back of the Physics 101 class, noticing halfway through the class that you were both muttering the correct answers under your breath. Since that class, you had both been the closest of both study partners, and friends. With you being the charming talker, and Ford being the logical brains, you had both moved up the ranks in Backupsmore University. On a drunken night at the end of the first year you’d both revealed to each other that this was never your first choice. For Ford, his project to get taken in by West Tech was sabotaged, keeping him on the east coast. For you, your family couldn’t afford anything else. With 3 younger siblings you knew that your needs were met, but you also had to compromise on a lot of things- for the rest of the family. Ford kept a lot of his own family secretive, only mentioning in the middle of a spring break trip to Canada that he had an identical twin brother which nearly caused you to flip the kayak you were both in. But you were never one to push Ford too far out of his comfort zone. You recognized he was a private person, but also an incredibly bright and witty person. Someone you really liked hanging out with and spending time around. 

“No!” Ford said, “I mean uhm…what do you want?” he corrected himself, still keeping the door only open a sliver. You raised your eyebrow and leaned against the doorway yourself. He was hiding something, and poorly.

“Is there a girl in there Ford?” you whispered with a smirk, knowing there’s no shot in hell it would be the case. His face turned red as he shut the door and unchained the locks before swinging it open fully. You knew he rarely ever hung out with other people, aside from his Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons gaming group and fellow student Fiddleford. 

“No, no females in here, just a damn letter,” he sighed as he ran his hand through his hair as he turned, “it’s the grant letter,” he said as he pointed to it on his desk. You stepped in and sure enough, his desk was somehow cleared, most of the mess being moved to his bed now, with a white envelope addressed to him. 

Stanford Pines, Room 313, Backupsmore University.

“Well shit have you opened it?” you asked, standing besides him as you both stared at the envelope. He applied for a large grant for research months ago, and after tedious interview after interview, this could be it.

“No, I can’t bring myself to. It’s Schrodinger's envelope. Until I open it I could’ve won it or not. I can’t do it. I can’t face the certainty of opening it- either one,” he sighed as he pinched his glasses on his nose, going through the same logic he’d been grappling with for the past hours.

You slowly nodded. He wound himself up like this often. Paralyzed with choice. You personally were the type to make a choice and force it to be the right one- somehow make it correct or at least work out for you. Ford on the other hand needed to know that it was going to be the right one from the beginning. Once again, the logical one.

What had worked before though was you distracting him. Getting him out of his head. Or at least his room.

“Want to check out Point Pleasant? Been reports of some unusual behavior from there recently,” you mused, breaking the silence. You could practically hear the gears in his head turning. “My camcorder’s all charged, I just need your car,” you grinned at him. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as he sighed.

“Okay, okay, fine,” he said as he took one last look at the envelope before grabbing his coat and keys. You silently pumped your fist as you fished your camcorder out of your bag. It was covered in random stickers you’d gotten over the years of owning it, from fruit stickers, to band stickers.

There was another thing that brought you and Ford together. An affinity for the unexplained and weird. It had always piqued your interest since you were a child living in the forest, seeing things that practical textbook science couldn’t explain and going headfirst into the unknown. Ford grew to share your passion for this after getting his skepticism proved wrong after tagging along for a few of your drives out to cryptid and weirdness hotspots. Bigfoots, ghosts, aliens, fairies, you’d hear a rumor and you’d grab your camcorder to go check it out yourself. Ford himself realized that he’d been viewed as something different in his own life having six fingers on each hand. The way that you got so excited and enamored with weirdness though made him feel less self conscious about his own quirks. You thrived on the unexplainable, and it eventually began to rub off on him. He could explain most equations and experiments, but he loved the challenge of not knowing how to explain something, which he seemed to always find when he followed you. 

You slid into the familiar passenger seat of Ford’s red 1960 Popular 100E, which was a little car that suited his personality well. He began the engine as you instinctively began flicking through radio channels trying to find some good music. 

The sun was starting to set which was turning the sky a pinkish yellow hue. You turned your camcorder to the sky and started filming.

“Tonight I come to you with a breaking case joined again by my dearest companion Ford Pines,” you begin as you dramatically squirm in your seat to zoom in on Ford’s face who blushes and laughs, but doesn’t take his eyes off the road. He prided himself on his safe driving, which often bored you. “Let’s take a step back my friends into a time before humans, a time before these roads meant anything, a time of empty forest and beautiful lands untouched by buildings,” you continued as you turned back to the sunset, “imagine soaring above this beautiful area one day and then BAM!” you shouted, twisting back to Ford trying to catch him off guard. No luck though. “A billboard! A damn city has popped up in your turf! Where you were just chilling one day. Unbelievable,” you sighed as you turned back to the now darkening sky. “That my friends is the story of today’s search, the elusive and illustrious Mothman,” you said, which caused Ford to scoff,

“You’re kidding me Y/N, Mothman?”. You stopped your recording and put your camcorder back down. 

“You’ve already started driving, it's too late to turn back now,” you hummed as you went back to clicking through channels, “just trust me Ford I’ve never let you down,”. 

The two of you kept driving into the night, discussing recent classes and homework, and you trying to fill Ford in on recent gossip. The car rolled into Point Pleasant around 1:32 am, which is where you sat up again and turned on your screen. Slowly directing Ford down an overgrown path outside of town. Stopped by a closed gate warning to turn back you grinned maniacally as you jumped out the car practically before Ford could stop it. You climbed over the gate with Ford trailing behind you, muttering about tetanus and safety. 

“We start here, on an abandoned road,” you said as you panned around the forest “where this Mothman has been reported to be seen earlier this week,” you continued, “once again with my trusty partner Ford,” you added zooming in and out on Ford who was crouched down looking at the mud.

“Seems fresh,” he said as he pointed to a large claw prints on the ground, with what looked like a walking pattern of a human. Ford pulled out his notebook, which was a precariously put together collection of notes and drawings he started once he started going out on these adventures with you. You had your camcorder, and he had his notebook. It was a spiral notebook you’d gotten for him after getting tired of seeing him lose his sketches he’d done earlier on napkins, although the amount of wear and tear it got was already causing the spiral part of it to get stuck in some spots.

You zoomed in on the footprints and kept your camcorder down as you followed them farther and farther until you felt a strong gust of wind. You slowly brought your camcorder up to a tree in front of you, where a pair of glowing red eyes looked back down at you.

“Whoah,” you said softly as you marveled at the size of the creature in the tree as your saw the 7 foot feathered? furry? thing sitting in the branch, staring back down at you. You kept your camcorder and eyes on the creature, bewildered as you felt two familiar hands on your hips slowly pulling you back.

“Y/N we gotta go,” Ford whispered in your ear as he kept trying to scoot you back.

“Ford wait-” you protested as you tried to shoo him, which only tightened his hold and urgency.

“Y/N this thing does not play friendly,” he urged again, grabbing your head and forcing it to the pile of deer and other forest animal skeletons nearby that you had missed before. To seal the deal the two of you both heard the creak of the branch and flapping of wings as the Mothman jumped off the perch. 

Very quickly you grabbed Ford’s hand as the two of you began hauling ass back to his car, knowing it would supply a little bit of safety from the claws of the creature. Above there was a screech similar to a bird as you both dove into the car with you flopping on top of Ford as he started to fumble for his keys and scooting to the drivers seat. 

“A show folks! We have a show!” you shouted to the camcorder as you tried to get a view of the Mothman through the window, “we’ve discovered that our Mothman friend is NOT a vegetarian I fear!”. Ford frantically started the car and began reversing back the way the two of you had come. 

There was a loud thump onto the top of the car as you both looked at each other. It was on top of the car. Shit.

Ford continued trying to reverse down the overgrown trail as you resorted to honking the horn for him to try and get the Mothman off the top of the car. The car jolted as the Mothman jumped off the car, letting the both of you take a breath as you rejoined the paved road. 

“Damn that was crazy!” you said as Ford turned the car back into the road. He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by both of your screams as the behemoth of the Mothman slammed down onto the hood of the car, metal screeching beneath the claws as it gripped on. 

“YOU SPOKE TOO SOON!” Ford shouted as he attempted to honk the horn, which only seemed to peeve the creature off more as it attempted to hit the windshield. You fumbled with your camcorder once again trying to film this scene as Ford continued to let out a string of curses. 

“Try and throw him off!” you shouted as you grabbed the side of the wheel and yanked it right, very grateful nobody else was on the road. The Mothman certainly wasn’t expecting it as it lost its balance careening off the side before Ford narrowly dodged it to not run it over. He pressed the accelerator all the way down as he tried to put as much distance between the car and the temporarily stunned Mothman.

You were out of breath as you laid your head back onto the seat, taking in the avoided danger. Grateful it wasn’t any worse. The tinny of the radio was the only noise in the car as the two of you stared at the mangled hood of the car.

“Ford I’m-”

“I got the grant,” he said before you could apologize, “I got the full 100 thousand dollars,”. You punched his shoulder excitedly.

“STANFORD PINES!” you shouted as you continued to hit his arm which made him grin and look over at you, “HELL YEAH YOU DID!”. You were overjoyed for your friend. He was the hardest working student and person you knew and truly deserved the cash to make his dreams happen. “I can’t believe you opened it! You had me going! Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked as you settled back down. He shrugged,

“I don’t know- I couldn’t think of how to tell you. I opened it at midnight last night and I’ve been trying to think of how to since then-” he said, “You’ve done so much to help me get it and- I just needed to do it justice,” he sighed. 

You gripped his arm again and gently shook it,

“I’m so fucking happy for you Ford this is going to change everything!” you smiled, “what are you going to do with it all?” you asked.

He let out a sigh, “I want to do this. Full time,” he said, “There’s a place, in Oregon, over in the Pacific Northwest- there’s something supernatural happening there based on my research and I there’s some land available already,” he continued, “I want to make a lab, a honest research lab, to do this sort of cryptid, oddities, weirdness hunting full time,”. 

The car was silent as he sat with himself.

“Damn that was the first time I’ve really said it out loud,” he laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I think that sounds great Ford,” you nodded with a smile as you continued to gently rub his arm to make him feel a little better.

“But I need you there,” he said, confidently, “You got me hooked on this stuff, and you have a real knack for it. It’s only right if you come with,”. 

“I would be honored, Ford are you kidding me!?” you said excitedly as you squeezed his hand quickly on the wheel.

“It’s going to be really messy, and I don’t know how I’m going to move everything, but I need you to be there with me to make this work,” he said with a firm nod.

“And I’ll be there,” you nodded back as you sat back into your seat, looking back out at the dark road. You couldn’t help but feel giddy at the future Ford had just invited you to.

[vivwritescrappythings]

saying thanks

joel miller x afab!fem!reader

Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.

tw: smut, fem reader, afab reader, unspecified age gap, reader is smaller than Joel (shorter, can be picked up by him), oral (m! receiving), p in v sex, crying, fighting, blood, drinking, Joel may be out of character but I don’t care, not proofread.

Word count: 8.1k

masterlist

MDNI!

—

Joel was seething. You’d never seen him like this, rage burning in his gaze and his hands balled into fists at his sides as he was pushed toward the door. Of course you’d seen him in fights before, dealing with raiders and infected on patrol was a bloody business at best, but the second the new guy, Jake? Jack, at the Tipsy Bison put a hand on you—just touching your arm—Joel exploded.

You didn’t even have time to blink before the man grabbing your arm was on the ground, ugly bruises blossoming on his face. You didn’t even launch into action to get Joel off of him, shock leaving you frozen. You only remained plastered against the bar, gaping at Joel’s savage expression and the way his fists bludgeoned Jack's face. The drink in your hand spilled over the sides a bit, a sticky combination of fruit juice and alcohol coating your skin and absorbing in the sleeve of your sweater.

You were already tipsy, your face hot and your eyes a bit glassy. You were more loose with your expressions, the careful filter you kept starting to deteriorate. By the time a bar fight broke out, you were already more than a few drinks in, your heart pounding in your chest along with the soft music and a thin layer of sweat starting to prickle at the back of your neck.

Joel had stayed quiet that night, sticking to the secluded booth in the back of the bar that he usually haunted. There was no acknowledgement of each other, his chocolate-colored eyes had landed on you for a moment when you walked in, shadowed over by his dark brow in its permanent scowl. As always, he didn’t speak to you despite the fact that you spent most mornings together patrolling the outskirts of Jackson.

He wasn’t your biggest fan, even going so far as to complain to his brother when the two of you had been assigned together. Tommy was giving you a shot on the patrol, you were newer to Jackson and needed a job. You could handle a gun and didn’t seem completely clueless, so he figured he would stick you with Joel to see if you made it out on the other side.

But, nevertheless, Joel was now being pulled off Jack by a few other patrons. They hauled him up by the collar of his canvas jacket, his knuckles bloodied and a snarl on his face as Jack scrambled away. You still stood wide-eyed and dopey, your voice caught in your throat as you struggled for something to say.

Joel wouldn’t look at you, eyes drilling into Jack as he was shoved toward the door. He kept hissing threats through his teeth, snippets of ‘I’ll break your fucking arm if you ever touch her again,’ audible above the music as he grappled with the men trying to contain him.

Your gaze traced the outline of his aquiline nose, the way his lips were pursed beneath his dark mustache. It was a struggle to push him out the door. You flinched when it slammed shut behind him, spilling more of your drink.

“You better get your damn dog on a leash.” It was one of the older women in the neighborhood, her brows drawn and a disgusted expression on her face as she regarded you. You finally snapped out of your shocked stupor, looking at Jack’s bloodied and swollen face as he was picked up and put into a booth.

What was Joel even thinking?

You downed your drink in a few gulps, setting the empty glass on the bar before pushing yourself away from the bar top. Wind swept inside the Tipsy Bison as you forced the door open, providing a moment of relief from the humid heat of the bar. It was starting to get cold out, dried leaves swirling in the breeze as autumn settled into the bones of Jackson.

You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself as you peered out into the darkness. The leaves crunched under your shoes as you took a few tentative steps, the sweater you wore offering you little protection from the wind.

Joel leaned against the wall of a nearby business, his head tilted back and his throat bared to the dim light of the moon. He was sucking in deep breaths through his mouth, his bloody knuckles limp at his sides. His jacket was off-kilter from where he’d been thrown out the door, his hair mussed.

“Joel?” You approached him like you would a wild animal, on high alert and prepared for any sudden movement.

He looked at you with a bored expression, the moonlight catching on the silver hair that splintered at his temples and in his patchy beard. You hesitated, stopping your approach for a moment before pressing on until you were a few feet in front of him. His dark curls stuck up in every direction, they were a little long now that winter was approaching.

“What the hell was that?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as your weight settled so one hip popped out to the side. You sounded more aggressive than you intended to, the words coming out like an accusation rather than a question.

It was times like this that made the age and size difference between you and Joel apparent. He stood up straight, towering over you a bit as he cleared his throat. Sometimes he made you feel like you were still just a dumb teenager instead of a woman in her mid twenties. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, his voice a deep grumble with a slight southern twang to it.

A scoff leaves your mouth before you can even stop it, the alcohol reducing your filter to near non-existence. “What do you mean, Joel? I watched you beat the shit out of that guy for what? Touching my arm?” You were a little too loud, your voice ricocheting off the buildings around you. Under different circumstances, you would have cringed and apologized immediately, but something forced you to soldier on.

Thankfully no one else was outside that night—it was too cold and still too early for the Tipsy Bison to have a last call. It felt like a standoff. His dark eyes were trained on your face, his mouth drawn into a scowl. You usually backed down to him, acquiescing to his stubborn nature.

“And so what if it was?” Joel grumbled, his attitude matching your own. The way he crossed his arms made his biceps bulge under the fabric of his jacket—your breath hitched for a moment before you glanced away.

You shook your head, disbelief coloring your expression as his words settled in. “You don’t even like me!” You can’t help but gesture wildly, your hands moving like they had minds of their own.

He ignored you regularly. There was an unspoken rule of only acknowledging one another on patrols together. The woods outside of Jackson were the only place that Joel would actually talk to you, otherwise you acted like perfect strangers in town.

His jaw clenched as he pushed off the wall, taking a few steps closer to you. “Who said I didn’t like you?” he asked, his voice lower as his head dipped toward yours.

He couldn’t be serious.

Your eyebrows shot up, disbelief making you smile incredulously. “What, so ignoring me in public and complaining about me to Tommy is how you treat your friends?” You were moments away from leaving and letting Joel find a new patrol partner.

You spent too much time defending Joel from his reputation as the town pariah, arguing that he wasn’t the animal everyone thought he was. He had a hard time blending in, bigger than most everyone except for his brother and unapproachable to a fault. It seemed that Tommy and Ellie were the only people he willingly spoke to, otherwise keeping largely to himself.

Sometimes you wondered if he heard the rumors going around about him—speculation that he used to be a hunter, a smuggler, a heartless killer. You never had it in you to ask him about it.

Not that he would tell you, anyways.

Joel’s scowl deepened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. His silence did nothing but rile you up, it felt like an admission to the fact that you were right. You huffed, the autumnal breeze making dried leaves stick to your jeans and your breath clouding in the air.

“Well, Joel, you should really figure out how to act like an adult,” you snapped, shaking your head as you started to turn away from him. “You’re way too old to be beating up boys at a bar for touching someone you don’t even give a damn about.”

The Tipsy Bison called to you, warm light spilling out the windows and the people moving inside. Your friends were still in there, giggling with one another at the bar. You could see others nursing Jack in a booth, pressing ice wrapped in towels against his face as his blood turned them pink.

“I didn’t like how he was grabbing ya,” Joel finally said after you’d taken a few steps away. The admission made you stop in your tracks, looking back over your shoulder at the man. He looked sheepish as he admitted it, his gaze on the floor like a toddler getting scolded. He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before redirecting his eyes to the sky. “You didn’t… you didn’t hear how he was talking about you… didn’t want you with a guy like that.”

Your eyebrows shot up, your lips parting slightly. Your head tilted up to look at him properly, eyes narrowed slightly as you evaluated him. He seemed shockingly sincere, the awkward expression on his face sealing the deal. “Careful Joel, I’m almost starting to think you care about me.”

There was something in the way his eyes shifted to meet yours that almost made your heart stop.

“Never said I didn’t care,” he mumbled, one of his baseball mitt hands coming to rub the back of his neck. The blood on his knuckles was drying, turning to a rust color under the moonlight. You couldn’t help but purse your lips, tilting your head to one side. It was hard to understand, the alcohol making you feel like you were buzzing as you mulled over Joel’s words.

He cleared his throat again, shuffling a little closer to you in the process. “When I talked to Tommy, I wasn’t complainin’ about you,” Joel said. His cheeks were flushed, making you wonder if he was cold or just from the alcohol. He was notorious for sucking down bourbon like it was water, especially on nights when he had nothing to do the next day.

“You weren’t?” you asked, probing the older man a bit. You had only walked by when Joel was talking to his brother, catching your name in their hushed whispers and Joel’s strained expression. You’d assumed it was because he was stuck with you, a newer recruit, a woman.

Joel sighed, shaking his head. It felt like you were pulling every word from his throat. “Tommy… he uh… he put us together because he thought it would be good for me,” he said, hesitating between parts of his sentence. “Thought you’d be good for me.”

“Good for you?” The alcohol made your voice soft around the edges, the question tumbling out of you before you had the sense to stop it. Joel stepped closer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. He was close enough that you could see the scar on his ear, the scars littering his bloodied hands and the ones across his nose. Sure, you’d seen them on patrol as you walked shoulder to shoulder, but for some reason you find yourself trying to memorize every detail about him in the moonlight.

“Yeah, sweetheart, good for me,” Joel mumbled, looking down at his boots for a moment before making eye contact with you again. Sweetheart. The nickname rattled around in your mind, echoing in time with your heartbeat. You would’ve punched anyone else for calling you sweetheart, but it sounded good coming from Joel.

Your face heated up, an odd smile quirking up the corners of your mouth as you struggled to find words to say. “You’re a liar, Joel,” you manage to spit out.

He let out a chuckle, the kind that hardly made any noise and just let out a sharp breath of air. You earned one every now and then, it always made you beam when you could get him to chuckle on patrol. “Yeah? I could’ve switched a long time ago,” Joel murmured, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Tommy offered to let me switch.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, a sliver of your combative nature rising up your throat. You wanted to argue with the older man, inform him that he was wrong.

Joel must have picked up at the way your jaw twitched, your expression twisting. “It’s nice to listen to ya blabber in the mornings,” he said, his tone lighter than it had been. It was almost easy to forget what happened in the Tipsy Bison, the way you watched him beat Jack’s face into a pulp.

You huffed, shaking your head. There was a small smile on your face as the heat continued to rise on your cheeks. “Then why do you act like I’m a stranger when I see you around?” you asked Joel. You scraped your teeth over your lower lip, scuffing the toe of your shoe in the dirt.

Joel’s face fell a bit, his eyes softening as he became serious once more. “You don’t want to be around me anyways, people would judge ya.” It was like he didn’t want to admit it, his voice low and mumbling.

You hummed your disagreement, deciding to be bold and step even closer to the huge man in front of you. He towered a head over most people in Jackson, strong and wide and sturdy. You looked over his tanned, weathered skin, his dark curls that were starting to show age through scattered silver strands. “You don’t seem too bad to me,” you said, nearly a whisper.

You saw how Ellie looked at him like he was her favorite person in the world. If that girl could trust him, then so could you.

Joel’s warmth radiated onto you in the cool evening, the smell of bourbon on his breath and blood on his hands. He shook his head, maintaining the closeness you’d established. “Sweetheart, you know most of the shit they say about me around this town is true.”

You’d figured as much. You’d watched Joel kill raiders without a blink of an eye and jump into action whenever infected approached the high, protective walls around Jackson. The first time you’d witnessed it, his precision took your breath away. Now it was something that you had come to depend on.

“I assumed as much,” you said with a shrug, folding your arms over your chest and tucking your hands under your armpits to keep them warm. “Never mattered to me,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek for a moment.

You considered going back to the bar to avoid the chill, but you didn’t feel like having to answer questions about you and Joel all night. Everyone would want to know what he said to you out here, would have their own ideas about why he did it. There were a few breaths of silence. “But, I should probably go home.”

“Not gonna go back inside?” Joel asked, nodding his chin toward the Tipsy Bison. His gaze was still focused on you. You thought about it for a moment before shaking your head, glancing back at the bar. It had lost its appeal.

“Just home, Joel. Have a good night… thanks for protecting my honor and stuff,” you said with a small smile. There was a lightness in the way you spoke, your eyes sparkling in the darkness.

You started to walk toward your house, living in the opposite direction from Joel. “Make sure you clean up those hands of yours, don’t want to have to get another patrol partner any time soon,” you said without looking back, dead leaves crunching under your feet with each step.

You heard his heavy footfalls behind you until Joel fell into step at your side. “Mind helping me out? Not great at first aid,” he said, holding his knuckles out in front of him. They were blown apart.

“Jesus, Joel,” you muttered, grabbing one of his wrists to inspect his hand as you walked. His wrist was warm and thick in your hand, he didn’t pull away. The wounds overlapped a number of scars beneath them, a snippet of Joel’s past violence. “Were you trying to kill him or just teach him a lesson?”

“I don’t pull my punches,” Joel said with a noncommittal shrug, making you roll your eyes. Of course he didn’t. Joel definitely taught him a lesson. You dropped his wrist, not giving him a response as you followed the path to your home.

Your house was one of the smaller ones, the yellow paint starting to peel off the siding and the wall around Jackson casting a shadow over it in the moonlight. Joel was grumbling about your proximity to the wall as you opened your front door and flicked on the lights.

“Take off your boots before you track mud in, I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” you tell Joel, toeing your shoes off before you head to one of the bathrooms. You can still hear him complaining as his heavy boots hit the floor, his lumbering footsteps going to the kitchen. The layout for all of the homes in Jackson was relatively the same, the sub-development it had been converted from seemed fairly cookie-cutter.

Joel sat patiently at the counter as you brought in the first aid kit, setting it down on the stone countertop and flicking it open. He seemed calm and unconcerned, more like a seasoned veteran to first aid than a novice. “I find it hard to believe that you’re bad at this,” you murmured, opening an alcohol wipe to start cleaning his knuckles.

Joel placed his big, catcher’s mitt hands flat on the counter for you to work. His jaw tensed a few times as you wiped over the largest knuckle on each of his hands. “I’m here for your gentle touch, sweetheart,” he muttered, sarcasm biting his tone and making you laugh.

“I’m not a nurse for a reason,” you said, smearing ointment onto the wounds with your fingertips. You tried to be careful, not applying too much pressure to the irritated skin.

Joel chuckled, watching your movements as you pulled out a roll of gauze and loosely wrapped his wounds to cover them. He flexed his hands as soon as you were finished, the gauze stretching tight when he made fists. “Good as new,” you said, leaning against the countertop. You both looked down at his bandaged wounds, lingering in the closeness before you stepped away.

“Now, you should hold off on bar fights for a while.” Mirth glittered in your eyes as you grabbed a wine bottle from one of the shelves in your kitchen. You grabbed two glasses without asking, methodically going through the motions of opening the bottle and pouring.

It felt like you and Joel were sprinting head-first at a line the two of you had never crossed before. There was a shift from coworkers to something else, and it started the second Joel pounced on Jack. You found yourself studying his face as you handed him a wine glass, categorizing his features as you took a sip. He was handsome, but he always had been—you just didn’t let yourself recognize it.

“No promises,” Joel grumbled, taking a long drink. You watched him swallow, your eyes partially lidded before you remembered yourself. You felt your cheeks and ears heat up as you took another drink, unclenching your fist at your side and focusing on the stretch of the bones and ligaments.

“You really didn’t need to beat Jack up, I can handle myself,” you murmured, your lashes fluttering as you redirected your gaze to Joel.

He just snorted softly, shaking his head. His expression twisted into amusement, the papery wrinkles of his crow’s feet becoming pronounced. Your brows furrowed, your head tilting as you prepared to argue the fact that you could, in fact, defend yourself. “His name is Jake.”

Embarrassment made blood rush to your face so quickly you almost felt light headed. A sheepish smile settled on your features, a giggle working its way through your throat. “He even let me call him Jack like… five times the other day,” you said into your wine glass, a guilty look on your face.

“Poor boy’s got it bad then,” Joel said, smirking at you. His dark eyes appeared even darker in the lighting of your kitchen.

“Don’t worry, I think you scared him enough,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. You picked your glass up off the counter, walking out of the kitchen to your cozy living room.

Joel came to sit on the couch as you stoked a fire to life, burning some of the dried kindling you kept in a bucket near the fireplace to coax the logs to life. You could feel his eyes on your back as you crouched, the flames breathing warmth over you as they crackled. The combination of his gaze, the fire, and the wine you kept sucking down in mouthfuls made a sweat prickle at the back of your neck as you stood up straight.

He made himself comfortable, lounging on the couch with an arm draped on the back of it. He’d brought the bottle of wine, it sat on the coffee table next to his empty glass. One of your eyebrows arched as you sat next to him, leaving enough space between the two of you that you could twist and bring your knees and feet up onto the sofa.

“You really made yourself at home.”

Joel cracked an easy smile, the fire illuminating the deep shadows of scowl lines on his forehead. You felt the urge to smooth them out with your fingertips. “I’ve got a habit of doing that,” he said, his dark gaze sliding to the fireplace. One of the logs popped, sending sparks through the hearth.

There was a lapse of silence where you reached over and filled up his wine glass again. You felt surprisingly comfortable next to him, relaxing your side against the cushioned back of the couch as you faced Joel. “The ladies at the Tipsy Bison called you my guard dog.”

That made him outright snicker. “Yeah? I’m your guard dog, huh?” he asked, clearly teasing. The way his flannel clung to his shoulders was heavenly, wrapped around every well-defined muscle like a second skin. The wine was staining his mouth purple, you were enraptured as his tongue darted out to catch any remaining drops on his lips.

You cleared your throat, blinking as you nodded. “Said I should get you on a leash,” you mumbled, the heat on your cheeks spreading to your neck and ears. You gulped the wine to break some of the tension, your nose scrunching as you swallowed.

There was a shift, it would’ve gone unnoticed if you weren’t paying attention.

Joel stretched a bit, tilting his head back as he finished the rest of the wine in one gulp before setting the glass on the coffee table. When he sat back, he’d moved closer to you. Your knee was nearly touching his thigh, that inch of empty space feeling electric.

“Do you want me on a leash?” he asked, his voice deep. There was something different to his tone, the harsh edges of his voice rounded out more than usual. The question made your breath stutter in your chest. The sincerity in his expression caught you off guard. You opened your mouth to speak, only silence coming out. “If there was anyone who could convince me, it would probably be you, sweetheart.”

You choked on your wine, awkward and clumsy as you sat up straight to prevent it from coming out of your nose. Part of you felt like Joel had turned you inside out as you spluttered, confusion and self-consciousness running rampant.. Finally you got a hold of yourself, sucking in wet breaths with tears in your eyes.

“You okay?” His voice was sweet and soft when he asked, as though he hadn’t caused it. You nodded, waiving off his concern as his paw of a hand grabbed your shoulder. His touch was napalm, igniting your skin through your thin sweater.

“Just surprised me,” you choked out, wiping away the tears with the heel of your hand as you sniffled. Joel’s hand stayed where it was, his thumb rubbing along your collarbone over the black fabric. He did nothing but hum his acknowledgement, patiently waiting for you to catch your breath.

Another cough rattled through you before you could breathe again. Joel’s eyebrows were raised as he watched you, mirth sparkling in his eyes. “You are so full of shit, Joel Miller,” you finally said, pushing his shoulder lightly.

He still was touching you, leaning forward into your space as he did so. Your breaths were shallow, apprehensive and giddy in all the right ways.

“You think I’m full of shit?” he asked, smirking.

“I know you are.” You couldn’t help but flirt, batting your eyelashes and smirking at Joel. You felt electric, lightning just crackling under your skin with the potential thrill of him reciprocating. Sure, you were risking a decent work relationship, but you could get a new patrol partner.

He hummed thoughtfully, his hand creeping toward the back of your neck. The stretch of his fingers to the meat of his palm spanned nearly three-quarters of the circumference of your throat, something that should’ve chilled you to the bone. Excitement sparked in your belly as you swallowed against the firm press of his thumb on your windpipe.

“You don’t seem like an ‘on the leash’ kind of guy,” you murmured, the feeling of the gauze you’d wrapped around his knuckles rubbing against your soft skin making you shiver slightly.

“No, guess I don’t,” Joel agreed, his dark brown gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth and back. It was so quick, but the thrill that followed made you feel like you were glowing. You slicked your tongue over your lower lip, making it shine in the firelight.

The way he spoke made you press your thighs together, the stiff seam of your jeans pressing against you in the perfect way if you shifted how you were sitting. Joel moved as well, his thighs spreading just a bit, a palm quickly smoothing over his lap in an action he probably didn’t think he would notice.

“Sweetheart, we should just get this out of the way.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion before Joel was pulling you toward him, his lips slotting over yours. A soft, startled noise was muffled against Joel’s mouth, shock dissipating quickly as your eyes slid shut. His mustache tickled your upper lip as you accidentally bumped your nose against his.

When he pulled back, there was a hint of a smile on his face. Your face felt like it was on fire, a goofy grin gracing your features as your gaze flickered over him.

Joel’s other hand crept onto your jean-clad thigh, a calloused thumb stroking along the frayed hole at your knee. “So, was that weird for you?” you asked like an insecure teenager, your teeth digging into your lower lip as you waited for his answer.

Your heart was pounding, the irrational side of your brain wondering if he was able to hear it. He surely felt it against his palm, his heavy hand resting near your pulse as he kept you close on the couch. He smiled at your question, shaking his head no as he pulled you back in for a second kiss. It was quicker, a messy stamp of his mouth over yours.

“Didn’t think you’d be into an old man like me,” he said with a chuckle. If you didn’t know better it almost seemed like Joel felt bashful. The apples of his cheeks were dusted pink, whether it was from the kiss or the wine you didn’t know.

Your eyebrow arched, a grin still on your face. “You’re not old,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. Your hands were pressed into your lap, part of you not knowing what to do with them. You looked up at Joel through your eyelashes before your gaze dragged down his torso and to his jeans. The flannel he wore was thin, the fabric well-worn and not tucked into his blue jeans.

“I should, um, thank you,” you murmured, shifting to put your empty wine glass on the coffee table.

Joel chuckled, still watching you like a hawk that set sights on its prey. “Last I checked, you were just lecturing me about fighting your own battles,” he teased, curiosity shining deep in his chocolate eyes as you got off your couch.

The wine must have gotten to your head, because you would’ve thought you were losing your mind. You moved to stand between Joel’s legs, slowly sinking to your knees on the squishy gray carpet that covered your living room. “I don’t have to thank you if you don’t want me to, Joel,” you murmured, your hands hovering over his thick thighs for a moment before resting on them.

He looked dumbfounded and giddy, his hands already resting on the black, leather belt he wore around his waist. “No, sweetheart, you’ve got a…uh… promising idea,” Joel said with a smile, shifting his legs so they bracketed you and his knees pressed against the coffee table.

You laughed softly, hands roaming up his muscular thighs to where his belt rested just under the soft layer of fat covering his stomach. “You sure? I can always get back up,” you said teasingly, working your fingers under the tongue of his belt and pulling the buckle open. It clinked as it fell off to the sides, you didn’t bother pulling it from the belt loops.

Joel shook his head, leaning back farther into the couch and shifting his hips toward you. “M’sure,” he answered, preoccupied on the way your fingers popped open the button of his jeans and worked the zipper down.

He was already hard, the outline of his cock pressing against the denim and toward his thigh. You reached into his black boxers, pulling it out of its confinement with a satisfied sigh.

He was big, bigger than any other guy you’d been with. You held the base of his cock, fingers against the curly, dark hair that covered his pubic bone and ran up toward his belly button. It was hot to the touch, the head already leaking precum that followed the path of the prominent veins down his shaft. It was more pink than the rest of him, the head a shade darker than the rest.

You licked your lips, almost embarrassed to find yourself drooling as you braced your forearm on his thigh and kitten-licked at the underside of Joel’s cock. He grunted at the contact, his hands digging into the plush cushion of the couch as his hips twitched toward your face.

“Eager,” you mumbled, a smile on your face as you looked up at Joel through your eyelashes. He was already looking down at you, his lips parted in anticipation and his breaths heavier than they were. You licked the tip of his cock again, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue. There’s something about the way that Joel lets a breath out through his teeth that makes you feel like you were set on fire.

You let out a breathy chuckle, wrapping your lips around the head of him and hollowing out your cheeks on your descent toward his lap. It was a lot to take, your eyes watering as you swallowed more of Joel’s cock. His moans and sighs were enough to keep you going, your lips curled over your teeth and your head bobbing up and down.

One of his hands found the curve of your jaw, calloused fingers tracing it before hooking around the back of your head. You were fine with his direction, letting Joel gently press your head down to dictate your speed.

The taste of him was salty and heady, a musk that was distinctly Joel filling your nose as you drooled and sucked his cock. It was slick with your spit, the mix of your saliva and his precum coating your lips and chin. You still had your hand wrapped around the base of him and moving in tandem with your mouth, ensuring you could get everything that your throat couldn’t fit.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, you suck cock like you were made for it,” Joel said, his words punctuated with soft sighs and moans. It made you want to live permanently with his praise, your gaze flicking up to meet Joel’s for a moment.

He was completely blissed out, his head tilted back toward the ceiling as he bit his full lower lip between his teeth. His Adam’s apple kept moving erratically in his throat, like he couldn’t decide whether to breathe or not. His hand still cupped the black of your head, half-thought praises falling frantically from his lips. Joel was barely speaking in sentences, some words falling to the wayside of his soft grunts.

Feeling emboldened, you moved your hand away and tried to relax your jaw as your head descended far enough that your nose was pressed firmly against Joel’s pubic hair. It smelled surprisingly clean, just the undertone of musk clinging to the dark, curly thatch of hair as you resisted the urge to choke around his cock.

It was thick and heavy in your throat as you swallowed around him, eliciting groans and his hand pressing tightly against the back of your head. Tears burned in your eyes as Joel’s thick cock twitched in your throat, your hands spread flat on your thighs as he moaned your praises.

Joel barely thrusted his hips toward your awaiting mouth, your eyes slipped shut so you could focus on relaxing your throat. Lungs burning, you finally pulled off to suck in deep breaths. Your hand resumed what your mouth had been doing moments before, taking Joel in your fist and using your saliva as lubrication.

“Look at how pretty you are,” Joel murmured, his southern accent thicker than normal as the hand on the back of your head shifted to cup your cheek. Your eyes were watery with a few tears tracking down your face, your lips swollen and saliva coating the entirety of your chin.

You smiled, stroking his cock as you struggled to regain your breath. “Didn’t know you were such a good girl,” Joel drawled, dragging his thumb through the saliva on your chin and smearing the pad of it across your parted lips.

“When I want to be.” Your voice was thick and raspy, your eyes partially lidded. Your knees were digging into the carpet, his legs keeping you where you sat.

He smirked at that. Joel gently moved your hand away from his cock, his arms winding beneath your armpits and lifted you back up to the couch. You squealed in the back of your throat, surprised by his strength as he settled you against the arm of the couch and twisted to face you.

Large hands yanked your sweater over your head to reveal the black bra you wore, a soft groan coming from Joel. He didn’t waste time, finding the back closure and popping it open. You helped him, guiding the thin straps down your arms and tossing the garment aside.

“Christ,” Joel mumbled, his thick fingers brushing over one of your nipples. A jolt of electricity traveled down your spine at the touch, warmth blooming on your cheeks.

You were impatient, panties already soaked through and feeling uncomfortable as you popped open the button on your jeans. “Joel, I need you,” you murmured, leaning forward to kiss him as you shimmied your pants and underwear over your hips.

“So impatient,” he muttered between presses of your lips, pulling away so he could look at you properly. The firelight illuminated the curves and shadows that littered your body, stretch marks and scars visible on your skin. Self-consciousness reared its ugly head for a moment, your gaze fluttering away from Joel’s intensity as he just stared at you.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you toward him until your back hit the couch. “Joel…” you whined as he pressed your thighs apart, his dark eyes focused on your sex.

He spread the slicked lips apart with his thumb, making you cover your face with your hands out of embarrassment. “Look at you…” he mumbled, hardly even talking to you. He let go of your other thigh, his fingertips teasing your clenching hole to gather some of the wetness dripping down you and smearing it across your clit.

You gasped, your back arching at the contact against the nerves. Joel’s fingers were calloused and thick and warm, drawing tight, slow circles over your clit as his other hand pressed into the crease between your inner thigh and your pubic bone. It kept your hips from squirming away from him.

“You’re so sensitive, sweetheart,” Joel said, the smile audible in his voice. You’d kept your hands over your face, your moans muffled by your palms as you resisted the urge to snap your thighs closed. You felt vulnerable and exposed under him.

“You’re teasing,” you mumbled, your hips twitching in an attempt to get more friction from his calloused fingers. He kept his touch agonizingly light, making you whine and whimper in your desperation for more from him. He chuckled, fingers dipping to tease your entrance again before trailing back up to your clit.

“Let me see ya,” Joel said, his hand leaving the nestle of your thigh to wrap around your wrists and pull them away from your face. He held both in one hand, keeping your wrists captive against your sternum.

Your breaths were heavy, his fingers strumming over the swollen bump of your clit pulling moans from your throat. Joel’s eyes were partially lidded as he looked down at you, a smirk growing on his face at your desperate expression. “Joel, please,” you begged, your cunt clenching around empty space as you wished he would just fucking fill you up already.

He chuckled, clicking his tongue against his teeth with mock disapproval. “If you’re so desperate, get up and turn around, sweetheart,” he said, pulling you up by your wrists. “My knees aren’t what they used to be, help an old man out.”

You’d normally take that opportunity to make a joke at his expense, but you just let him move you around like a doll. He guided you so you were kneeling on the couch, your chest pressed against the back of it. You arched your back as much as you could, sticking your ass out and hoping you looked pretty as you looked at Joel over your shoulder. He didn’t even bother getting undressed, just standing up behind you and taking his cock in his hand.

His other hand still rubbed over your cunt, smearing your arousal over your swollen lips and onto your inner thighs. Much to your relief, he pressed two thick fingers inside you. The sensation made you groan, resting your weight on your elbows and your knees as you pushed back against his fingers. They slid in so easy you were almost embarrassed.

“You’ll take me just fine, sweetheart,” Joel murmured, approval echoing in his voice. He crooked his fingers to press and massage the spongy spot inside of you, making your mouth fall open and your legs jerk.

You twisted enough to glare at him, Joel covered in shadow from the fire crackling behind him. “Quit being an asshole, Joel,” you said through your teeth, making him chuckle.

“Where are your manners, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a sigh before grabbing your hip with a hand. His wet fingers smeared against your heated skin as he pulled you back a little more, making your back arch like a bow pulled too tight.

He slid the blunt head of his cock between your folds until it tapped against your clit, making him when you whimpered. Joel finally granted you what you wanted, lining up with your entrance and pressing his way in. His cock caught, sliding in so slow that it made you squirm.

“Relax, sweetheart.” Joel’s big hand slid up and down your curved spine, calloused fingers feeling each and every notch of your vertebrae. Your pussy fluttered around him, stretched out and so eager as he bullied his way inside of you. The breath you took in was frantic and overwhelmed, it felt as though he was pushing all of the air out of your body. The two fingers he had pressed inside of you as a test didn’t prepare you at all for his thick cock.

You could hardly breathe, you’d never taken a cock this big inside of you without any preparation–but you were too impatient to wait for him to stretch you out on his fingers. You were pathetic, whining and wheezing as your hands clenched against the cushions on the back of your couch.

You’d never felt anything better in your life.

After what felt like ages, Joel was fully seated inside of you. His coarse jeans were pressed against your soft thighs, the two of you breathing heavily like you’d run a marathon.

“You’ve gotta relax. Feels like you’re gonna squeeze my dick off,” Joel said, slowly grinding his pelvis against the swell of your ass. You nodded, trying to take in deep breaths and get used to the feeling of being stretched full.

“Sorry,” you muttered as you focused on becoming pliant, your taught muscles slowly releasing. His beard rasped against the back of your neck as he kissed you there, a moment of intimacy to calm you down. It felt like a reward, your breaths slowing as you unclenched around Joel and welcomed him deeper.

The sound you made when Joel pulled out and pressed back in was pathetic. It felt like he was sawing you in half, carving a space for his cock inside of you with each thrust. There was some caution to his movements, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he grit his teeth.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” Joel said, his voice muffled as his mouth pressed against your neck. Each thrust coaxed a gasp from you, your nails digging into the fabric of the couch as you took whatever Joel is willing to give. Your vision was blurry from the overwhelmed tears brimming your eyes.

The sound of your bodies smacking together filled your living room, the open belt still threaded through Joel’s pants clinking on the off beat. He maintained his pace like a machine, drilling into the gummy spot inside you that made your eyes roll back in your head.

Your nipples were sensitive, rubbing against the coarse fabric of the couch cushions with every thrust. The noises you made were absolutely undignified, the sounds of someone being fucked completely stupid. He was filling you up so perfectly and the knowledge that it was Joel, your hardass patrol partner who never gave affection to anyone, it made you feel like you’d touched a live wire.

“Tell me how it feels, sweetheart,” Joel said, a wide hand reaching around you to fondle your breast. He used it to bring you back, curving your spine so the back of your head was pressed against his collarbone and you looked up at where the wall and ceiling met.

You felt helpless and primal, your mind scattered a million different places. “So good,” you gasped stupidly, hardly able to form words. Your hands grabbed his forearm and fisted in his flannel behind you, an effort to anchor yourself to him.

“I know,” he murmured, kissing the shell of your ear. You were vaguely aware of tears running down your cheeks, your mouth hanging open as you struggled to stay afloat. You were already lost, a sea of sensation pulling you under with only the places where you and Joel were pressed together serving as your lifeline.

Joel’s free hand reached around your belly, finding your neglected clit with practiced ease. You moaned his name like a broken record, your eyebrows furrowing. He rubbed it hard and fast, matching the pace he was rutting into you with. You already felt heat pooling in your lower abdomen.

“Oh god,” you gasped, already shaking from head to toe and your grip tightening around his forearm. “Joel I’m—yes, yes, yes—“

It felt like your whole world shattered as you came with a shout, your muscles convulsing. You clamped around Joel’s cock like a vise, your hips twitching wildly. Pleasure flooded through you from head to toe, warm and fuzzy and all-consuming. The sensation was simultaneously too much and not enough, Joel steadily fucking you through it as your vision went white.

Joel had to pull himself away from you, letting you slump forward on the couch cushion as you came down from your orgasm. You were clenching around nothing, whining at how cruel he was to leave you empty.

The wet, sticky sounds coming from him made you turn your head as you went boneless on the couch. Joel’s cheeks were red as he tugged at his cock, a hand squeezing the flesh of your ass. His dark eyes were focused on you, all loose limbed and spent.

He finally noticed you looking, his mouth open and panting. He took in your fucked out expression, your eyelashes clumped with tears and cheeks red. He’d made a mess of you, the dazed look on your face his undoing as he let out a grunt. He sunk his teeth into his lower lip as he came, spurting thick come over your ass as his fingers dug into you.

You sighed as you felt his hot come land on your ass and back, pooling in the curve of your spine. You were still floaty and out of it, vaguely aware of him milking the last spurts of his spend from his thick cock.

“Jesus,” he grumbled, swaying for a moment before sitting down on the couch next to you. He gathered you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap and against his chest as you went perfectly limp.

You nuzzled against his neck, humming your affection as his hand rubbed up and down your back. The motion smeared his come along your skin, his fingers rubbing it in like body lotion. It was like he’d stuck your brain in a blender, the mush of the aftermath hardly able to form more than feelings as you pressed your forehead against his beard.

“I’ll beat up the whole town if this is the thanks I get,” Joel said, pressing a kiss to your temple. His barrel chest shook beneath you with a chuckle, his hands never straying from your body.

“No one’s gonna want to touch me with a ten-foot pole,” you muttered after a moment of silence, it took you a beat to even process what Joel was saying. He snickered, seeming pleased with himself as you melted deeper into his embrace.

“Good, I should be the only one touching you,” he said, making warmth bloom in your chest. “Unless I’m assuming things.”

You smiled, a sleepy look still on your face as you wound your arms around his neck and snuggled in closer. “So this wasn’t a spur of the moment thing?” you asked, sounding shy as you said it.

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “You know how many times I had to go home after patrol and take a cold shower just because you bumped my arm or bent over to pick something up? Felt like a damn teenager.”

You giggled, picking your head up to look at Joel properly. He looked so soft and sweet around the edges, that normal fire and flintiness was gone from his dark eyes. “You gonna stay tonight?”

He pulled you in for a kiss, it was sweet and over all too soon. “If you’ll let me,” Joel said, sounding earnest.

You nodded, tucking your head back against his neck. You were starting to succumb to your drowsy state, your eyes sliding shut as you puddled into Joel. You were vaguely aware of him lifting you off the couch, his good-natured grumbling about carrying you up the stairs filling your ears.

[r6eduss]

Girllll what if an imagine where S3! Daryl and y/n are a thing and when Daryl left with his brother, rick and the others were the one who told y/n that he just left and she was so devastated that when daryl eventually came back she treated him coldly then eventually breaking down in front of him because they think it's easy for daryl to leave them

Idk maybe angsty in the beginning then fluffy at the end?? This scenario is stuck in my head for D A Y S 😩

Anws thanks!!

Listen before I go.

•Summary: Daryl leaves with Merle without thinking how it would affect you. (Fem Reader)

•Warnings: 18+, Twd violence, angst, fluff

•Word count: 2.6k

•Setting: The Prison

•A/N: thank you for the request! I’m really sorry if this isn’t what you wanted and you aren’t happy with it 😭 I rewatched a couple episodes to try and make it as accurate as possible to the actual series. also I’m a very strong believer that Daryl would call his partner sweetheart 🤞🏼(I promise I’ve seen all the other requests I’ve gotten!)

Rick, Daryl, and Oscar had set out to rescue Glenn and Maggie, who were being held prisoner in Woodbury. Michonne had accompanied them, serving as their guide through the hostile territory. The operation, however, hadn't gone as smoothly as planned. They had lost Oscar in the chaos, and the Governor had captured Daryl, forcing him into a brutal situation—pitting him against his own brother, Merle.

As the dust settled and the group reconvened, Glenn and Michonne stayed behind to watch over the car while Rick and Maggie went back for Daryl, determined not to leave him behind. Against their better judgment, they returned with more than just Daryl—Merle had tagged along, at Daryl’s insistence. Now, back at the car, an intense discussion was brewing over whether Merle and Michonne should be brought back to the prison.

“The Governor is probably headin’ to the prison righ’ now. Merle knows how he thinks and we could use the muscle,” Daryl’s eyes locking on Rick, his tone resolute. One way or another, he was bringing his brother back.

Tension radiated from Glenn and Maggie. Glenn, still nursing wounds from Merle’s brutal interrogation, was barely containing his anger. Maggie stood close, her face tight with the memory of her own trauma at the hands of the Governor. “He had a gun to our heads! You really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol or Beth?” Glenn's voice shook, both with fury and concern for his family’s safety.

Daryl shot back quickly, defensive. “He ain’t a rapist.” But Glenn was faster. His words were sharp, cutting through Daryl’s protest like a knife. “Well his buddy is.”

Daryl’s face tightened. “They ain’t buddies no more. Not after last night,” he said, growing more frustrated. To him, this was simple—Merle was family. Family was non-negotiable. Why was this even up for debate?

Rick, observing the growing argument, finally stepped in, his voice measured but firm. “There’s no way Merle’s gonna live there without putting everyone at each other’s throats.”

Daryl’s patience was fraying. “So ya gon’ cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” His irritation was clear. They were even considering taking Michonne—someone they barely knew—while debating his own brother?

The group paused as Maggie spoke up, her voice softer but filled with conviction while gesturing towards Michonne. “She’s in no state to be on her own,” The trauma they'd all just endured weighed heavily on her, and she couldn't understand why Daryl seemed blind to it.

Rick and Daryl exchanged a look. They had their doubts about Michonne, and Rick had voiced that, telling the group that she’s not going back with them. “That’s righ’, we don’t know who she is. But Merle? Merle’s blood.” Daryl threw the statement out like it should end the conversation, as if everyone would automatically agree.

But Glenn’s response was immediate and cold. “No, Merle is your blood. My family is right here. And they’re waiting for us back at the prison.” His words hung in the air, heavy with finality. Maggie nodded in agreement, she wasn’t about to let Merle, of all people, endanger what little they had left.

Rick stepped closer to Daryl, his voice steady, attempting to bridge the growing divide. “And you're part of that family, Daryl. Not him.”

The statement struck Daryl hard. He looked baffled, wounded even. If they considered him family, why wouldn’t they accept his brother? “Man, y’all don’t know.” He shook his head, anger and confusion swirling inside him.

The silence that followed was tense. Everyone stared at Daryl, unsure of what more they could say. In their eyes, the decision was obvious—but for Daryl, it was far from simple. Finally, Daryl exhaled sharply. “Fine. We’ll fend for ourselves.”

The words hung in the air like a threat, and instantly the group erupted in protests. There was panic now, a desperation to keep Daryl from making a stupid decision out of anger. “No him, no me,” Daryl snapped, his voice thick with frustration. He felt cornered, like there was no room for him to protect both his blood and his new family.

Maggie stepped forward, “Daryl, you don’t have to do this.” He looked at her, and for a moment, his hardened expression faltered. “It was always Merle and me before this,” he said quietly, the pain in his voice clear. He was torn, and it was written all over his face.

Glenn, still reeling from everything, asked a question that Daryl forgot to consider in the heat of the moment. “What do you want us to tell Y/N?” It was a simple question, but one that carried so much weight. They both knew it would devastate you.

Daryl hesitated, his gaze dropping. “She’ll understand.” But there was a crack in his voice, a hint of uncertainty, deep down he knew that you in fact wouldn’t understand. The group fell silent, letting the gravity of the moment sink in.

For a long moment, Daryl stood there, chewing on the inside of his lip, torn between his past and his present. Finally, he began moving, heading toward the car. “Say goodbye to your pop for me.” Directing his comment towards Maggie. Rick quickly followed, refusing to let this situation go. “Hey, hey. There’s got to be another way,” he pleaded, knowing how hard this would hit not just Carol but you too.

Daryl paused, his back still to Rick. “Don’t ask me to leave him,” he said, accent thick as ever. “I already did tha’ once.” Arriving at the trunk he begins stuffing supplies into his bag, while telling Rick and them to take care of themselves. He hoists it over his shoulder, glancing one last time at the group, and walking away with Merle.

You stood quietly, arranging your belongings. Your cell had become somewhat of a sanctuary for you, a space to shape, however fragile, into a semblance of back home. You carefully sat down on your bed, deciding that you were going to nap, until you heard a knock, and saw Rick standing just outside. His hands rested against the cracked walls, not wanting to intrude too much. “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice very careful.

You offered a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m okay.” It was silent for a moment, you could tell he had more to say. “Is everything okay?” Rick slowly brought his gaze from your face to the ground, wondering how he could bring the news to you. “Listen.. Daryl’s gone. Left with Merle.”

Your heart lurched violently in your chest, but outwardly, you kept still, trying to keep your breath steady while each inhale felt like swallowing glass. “Is he coming back?” He was coming back right? You two had something special did you not?

Rick’s expression was one of apology, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what he had broke to you. “I don’t know. He told me you’d understand.” Understand? Understand that Daryl had chosen to abandon the love you thought you both had? Without even saying goodbye?

“Okay.” You replied softly, your voice refusing to betray the devastation roaring inside you. You couldn’t fall apart, and especially not in front of Rick.

He lingered for a moment longer, “if you need anything..—“

“I’ll be fine, Rick. Thank you.”

He gave you a solemn nod before stepping back into the hallway, the silence in your cell feeling almost suffocating. You sat frozen for a very long moment, staring at ceiling. Then, like a dam breaking, the tears came, hot and unbidden, blurring your vision as the enormity of it all crashed down on you. You sank onto your bed, your body shaking with silent sobs and your heart aching in ways you hadn’t expected. You’ve always known that Daryl was complicated, guarded.. but why did he leave? Were you not important enough to him? Did you really mean that little? A hundred questions burned in your mind, and none of them had answers.

It felt like an eternity before the next day finally arrived. The night had been restless, your mind circling endlessly around one thing, and that one thing was Daryl. The way he had just stood up and left you behind, it left a pit in your stomach that only deepened with each passing hour. But today, you had bigger problems, problems that made personal heartache seem almost insignificant.

Glenn was gone, in attempts to clear his mind. With Daryl gone and Rick wandering crazy town, he was the next in charge, and right now he had a lot of pent up anger on what the governor did to Maggie. But of course, while he was gone, the Governor had made his move, and it was brutal. His forces stormed the prison with a cold, ruthless efficiency, and everything erupted before you had time to prepare. Axel was the first to fall, a sharp crack of gunfire cutting through the air as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Carol, who had been standing just beside him, let out a sharp cry of shock. In a heartbeat she ducked behind Axel’s now motionless body, using him as a shield.

Bullets ripped through the air, the deafening sound of gunfire filling the space as you scrambled for cover. You crouched behind the crumbling remains of the prison walls that were near the gate, heart hammering in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins. You clutched your rifle tightly, hands shaking slightly as you peeked out from behind the wall, eyes scanning for targets.

There. One of the Governor's men was in your line of sight, crouched low, his rifle trained on the courtyard. Without hesitating, you aimed and pulled the trigger. The recoil jolted your body, but you didn't wait to see if you hit your mark. You ducked back behind the wall, the echo of gunfire ringing in your ears. Around you, The group fought just as hard, each of them locked in their own battles.

As you leaned out again, carefully scanning for your target who you hadn’t known already retreated, your eyes fell on Herschel, who was still exposed in the courtyard. Rick, positioned just outside the fences, was also in a precarious situation. At that moment, the Governor and his men launched an assault, sending a car to smash through the courtyard fence. Herschel, crouched in the field with his rifle, began to feel the weight on him as walkers started to flood in from every direction.

The fear was palpable among you, Rick, and especially Maggie as you all dreaded the possibility of losing Herschel. Just as the Governor began to leave, Glenn had returned, driving into the courtyard while Michonne followed the truck, cutting through the walkers that stood in her way. Their intervention was a lifesaver; they quickly rescued Herschel, escorting him into the truck and out of the courtyard, into the safety of the prison gates.

Outside, Rick was struggling to fend off the relentless walkers closing in on him. Just when things seemed dire, a bolt flew through the air, striking the head of the walker attacking Rick. Daryl and Merle had returned, joining forces with Rick to clear the remaining walkers. Daryl and the rest of your family were okay.. and that’s all you needed to know before bolting back toward your cell, trying your best to avoid the archer in the process.

A couple hours later you found yourself sat on your bed, running your fingers absentmindedly over the pages of an old journal you started keeping. Without looking up, you could heard the familiar sound of boots shuffling just outside your cell. Daryl stood awkwardly in the doorway, his hand brushing against the frame of the cell, his shoulders hunched slightly as though the weight of the world rested on them. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, the air between them thick with tension.

"Hey," he muttered finally, his voice gravelly and hesitant.

You looked up at him then, your expression unreadable. Daryl shifted his weight, uncomfortable under your gaze. Without a word, you stood and brushed past him, your shoulder grazing his as you walked out of the cell. Daryl flinched at the contact, his jaw tightening. The cold shoulder hit him harder than any words could have, and as he watched you walk away, he felt the guilt gnawing at his insides.

The distance between you two only grew more unbearable. As the days flew by, you continued to ignore him, feeling as if he didn’t deserve your attention, while Daryl found himself missing the soft touch of your hand, the warmth you brought into his life that no one else ever could. He couldn’t stay away any longer. He needed to fix this.

He found you sitting on the edge of your bed again, scribbling quietly in your journal like yesterday, not looking up when he entered, just blatantly ignoring him.

"Damn it, why’re ya avoidin’ me?" His frustration finally boiled over, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. You paused, setting the journal down slowly before looking up at him with steely eyes, the walls around you finally beginning to crack. "Why did you leave, Daryl?" Your was voice trembling but controlled, laced with anger. "Was it that easy?"

Daryl froze, his usual tough exterior faltering. He wasn’t used to being confronted like this, especially by you. He fidgeted, biting the inside of his lip. "It ain’t like that… Merle— he’s my blood."

"And what am I, Daryl?" You instantly snapped, voice rising higher as your emotions spilled over. "Why was it so easy for you to leave me? You didn’t even say goodbye. Did you not care?" Daryl’s gaze fell to the ground, avoiding yours at all costs. “I wasn’t thinkin’ straight”

Your eyes instantly widened in disbelief and hurt. “You left me here, alone, when I thought we had something! You weren’t even clear headed enough to think about how it would affect me!” Daryl flinched at edge of your voice. “I didn’t know what to do! I was tryin’ to do what I thought was right.”

You stood up abruptly, your anger radiating off you. “What was right?! You think abandoning me without a word is doing what’s right? Why’d you even come back if clearly all you needed was Merle.”

Your words cut deeper than any wound he’d ever taken. He stood there, staring at you, the silence stretching painfully between you both. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I came back 'cause I realized I love ya."

Your heart fluttered at his words, the anger in your eyes softening, though the hurt was still there. For a very long pause you just stared at him, scanning his eyes for any possible doubt for what he just admitted to you. “..Actually?” You really couldn’t believe it, you never thought he’d be the one to say those words first, but he did. All You wanted to do was stay mad, to push him away for making you feel like you didn’t matter, but the vulnerability in his voice stopped you. He again chewed the inside of his lips and nodded slowly to answer your question. "I’m sorry." he mumbled, looking down. He looked like he was about to cry, and in that very moment you just wanted to nurture him.

So without thinking, you closed the distance and wrapped your arms around him. Daryl tensed at first, his back stiffening at the unexpected embrace, but after a moment, he slowly relaxed, his arms wrapping around you in return and leaning down into your neck, feeling comfortable and safe.

"I love you too.. but don’t ever leave me again."

Daryl leaned back and pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead, lingering just for a moment. “I won’t, sweetheart.”

And that was a promise he’d never break. Not for anybody.

@vampiresluv

[ellecdc]

pleaseee can i request a potter!reader x barty where someone tries to hit on the reader and is pretty persistent when she’s with her friends (maybe remus, lily and reg because i feel like they’d all hang out) and then barty (and maybe james??) appears and acts as her scary dog privilege thank youu your writing is so amazing 💗💗

you sure can! thanks for the request (and your patience), I'm dusting off all my requests from the Spring hahaha <3

Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who has a persistent admirer [731 words]

CW: slight harassment/not accepting no for an answer, quick defence by friends and brother and boyfriend, threats of violence

“This is getting embarrassing.” Lily muttered as she watched Gideon Prewett approach you the second you stepped into the library. 

You smiled politely enough at the sod, but clearly felt awkward as you spotted your friends waiting for you in the library, shooting them a look that clearly read “help”.

“- think we could go to Hogsmeade together this weekend.” The group heard the tail end of Gideon’s sentence as the two of you got closer; or, rather, you got closer and he trailed obsessively behind you.

“Erm, that’s really nice of you, Prewett, but I’m gonna have to say no thank you.”

“Come now, Potter,” he continued easily, “I know what you’re thinking; it doesn’t have to be-”

“I would quit whilst you’re ahead, Prewett.” Remus sing-songed with a smirk as Gideon pulled your chair out for you and attempted to sit on your other side.

“And just what is that supposed to mean, Lupin?” Gideon all but sneered in reply, though he did hesitate in taking the seat.

“Hasn’t she made it clear enough she’s not interested?” Lily hissed, causing Regulus to huff a laugh.

“I say leave him to it.” He drawled in a bored manner. “It’s his funeral.”

“Is that a threat, Black?” Gideon accused at the exact moment said threat walked in.

“Hey bug!” James called loudly; appearing friendly for all intents and purposes, but the well trained eye (like that of his partner’s, one of his best friend’s and roommates, and his twin sister) could easily see the tension simmering beneath his cool facade. “S’this tosser bothering you?” 

“No…” You offered carefully, clearly not convinced in your own answer as you offered Gideon an apologetic grimace. “No, I’m alright, I just-”

“What’s going on here?” Barty demanded, appearing behind you out of nowhere like some sort of deranged poltergeist as he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and glared threateningly at your persistent admirer. 

“It’s a sodding library, Junior, what do you think is going on here?” Gideon spat.

“What I think is going on here,” Barty started severely, “is that you’re making my girl uncomfortable.” 

“Is that true, Prewett?” James queried; tone about an octave higher than normal as he threw a ‘friendly’ arm over his shoulder. “Are you making my sister uncomfortable?”

“I-”

“Because I’d hate to see what kind of trouble Junior and I could get into together should we need to team up, yeah?” He asked sweetly, and Remus nearly snorted at the way the poor sods freckles stood out in stark contrast when the blood drained from his face as he looked over at Barty who was smiling at him maniacally. 

“Jeez, alright.” Gideon tried to joke, though his laugh came out rather pitchy as he shook James’ threatening hold from his shoulder. “Message received.”

But before he could take more than two steps away, Barty had him by the collar of his shirt as he brought his face inches from his own. “Next time a lady says no thank you, that’s when your message should be received. Got it?”

Gideon simply nodded quickly, and Barty offered him a smile that didn’t meet his eyes and a patronising pat on the cheek. “Good lad.”  

The group of you watched Gideon flee the library before turning back to your table. 

“Well, that was rather anticlimactic.” Regulus complained.

“What? Was baby Black hoping for more drama?” Remus taunted, earning himself a kick in the shin from his boyfriend’s younger brother. 

“If that bloke so much as sneezes anywhere near you there will be more than enough drama for baby Black.” Barty promised as he sat in the seat Gideon had tried to occupy on your other side.

“Can we maybe not call me that?” Regulus scowled; face contorted in displeasure until James pressed a kiss to his hair.

“Just name the time and place, Junior, I’ll be there.” James agreed, and you rolled your eyes at your brother and boyfriend. 

“You boys are ridiculous.” You chided, though the fact that you were leaning your head against Barty’s shoulder as he weaselled an arm around your middle severely undermined your point. 

“Mmm, maybe.” Barty allowed as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head. “But you love it.”

And Remus knew from the shy smile gracing your lips that you did, indeed, sort of love your more than slightly ridiculous boys.

[nicoliine]

When Charlie found out that she is now a big sister.

☆彡 Your lover is an idiot; he can be a cute one or an annoying one, never in between, and right now you wonder which one he is as you are in the middle of one of their idiocies.

☆ Reader is g/n.

☆ Warnings: mild swearing? just Angel being Angel. Kinda crack, Charlie cries and it's all your fault.

No proofread.

 

 

You could ask anyone in and out of the hotel and get the same answer. Every. Single. Time.

Who is the biggest supporter of you and Lucifer's relationship? Charlie Morningstar.

 

Not that there was much competition; truth be told, she was the only one who cared enough about your relationship, always asking how your dates were going and if her father was treating you right.

And of course, Angel, who was suspiciously very interested in your partner, but you weren't planning on answering his questions, you prefer to keep his dick size to yourself.

 

That is why you find it unnecessary, so weird, to have the whole hotel's residents in the lobby waiting for the so-important announcement that Lucifer wanted to make; you love him? Yes, you will always be by his side? Definitely. Now, does that mean you want to? Right now, you are not sure.

Right before everyone's eyes, you stand beside your lover, who looked so excited and you could swear was about to jump in joy. Your energy doesn't match his, and you only give Charlie a small smile every now and then to let her know everything is alright.

He cleared his throat. "Now, you may wonder why we reunited you here today," he said, his voice denoting mistery. That made you chuckle. He is such a showman. "My love and I have big news!"

 

"We're having a baby!" He said it with one of the biggest smiles you had seen on his face.

 

"What!?"

"I'm having A BABY BROTHER!?"

 

"Well, not exactly," you interrupted before anyone else could speak or Lucifer started his theatrics again. "I think the appropriate word is "babies."  The comments started again.

 

"Damn, I knew that dick was good," Angel said.

 

☆◦ •◦☆

For someone who loves you so much and could kiss the ground you walk on, Lucifer was hard to convince to go on a walk with you. He surrenders the moment you say you are, in fact, going on with or without him, following after you.

You could see in his face that he was not having the time of his life. You remember the first time he stepped on the hotel, doing his best to not call it shit right there, and the streets in Pentagram City were not different from that; in fact, it was worse.

You just couldn't help it. It was nice to go on a walk around the streets; it was something you always enjoyed. Your lover's presence scaring away every soul who looked in your direction was just a treat.

 

When you suddenly stopped, Lucifer, who was following a step behind you, called your name with curiosity.

 

You couldn't find many animals in hell—well, not in the pride ring—but when a hellborn brings an animal, it is common for it to be the pet of someone. That's why you're now standing there, surprised to see at least five baby ducks on the side of the walk, running around.

"Look at those cute ones!" Your lover exclaims besides you with a babyish voice, as he kneels to take one of the ducks on his hand. "Darling, look! Is so precious!" You smiled, the image before you so breathtaking; you followed his actions, now rubbing one of the little ones head with your finger.

You counted six ducks; they seemed to be no more than three days old. Looking around, you tried to get a glimpse of the ducks mother, but it seemed like they were all by themselves; it nearly broke your heart.

"Darling! We can't just leave them here!" You turn your head to look at Lucifer, who was trying to hold all of the ducks in his arms; it was actually cute.

 

☆◦ •◦☆

To see the King of Hell walking around the hotel with six ducks and one Niffty following him as if he were a mama duck was something nobody expected, but they seemed to be getting used to the idea.

Husk mentioned he is, in fact, the mama duck, and you were the father.

What really took you off guard was to see Charlie resting her head on Vaggie's shoulder, crying over the baby brother you guys allegedly made her think of.

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