#but in the end enjoy it however you want to

[kinardsevan]

i wrote a whole ass psychology breakdown (for the first time in FOREVER) about the break-up. enjoy (if you so choose):

so I've been reading a lot in relation to Tommy's speech during the break-up (and have actually gotten through the scene several times now, mostly as a creative reference for these fix-it fics. I think one of the first things that I've seen completely tossed aside (that bothers the shit out of me as someone with over a decade of therapy treatment and a psychology degree) is whatever trauma Tommy carries.

We know that there are issues with his dad. We know Lou's lore behind him is that he spent a lot of his childhood alone. We don't know anything in relation to his mom, but she may or may not be the cause of more trauma. We know that his way of dealing with abuse of authority is to shut down and follow the leader, which is likely a mix of his military time and growing up in his father's household (and when I say this, I mean from what we saw of him under Gerrard's command). This is a person who has put years into getting himself into some version of okay after all that he's endured, and we know he still generally does it on his own.

To that end, here, have my breakdown of the break up (roughly right about the time Buck says "I want you to move in with me"). (with pictures!)

Prior to the offer, we watch Tommy process through Evan's explanation about his relationship with Abby, things being transformative for him, etc. We have to bare in mind that this is where we also start to get what I've dubbed "starry-eyed Buck". He's so in the throes of what he's saying that I don't think he's really considering the connotation of his words. At the same time, Tommy doesn't know what lore Evan is about to drop him about this prior relationship. Remember that he now has to contend with the fact that they both have strong opinions on their relations toward Abby, and Tommy can't know if their feelings toward her as a person will be the same. I think Lou played this beautifully, appearing anxious and apprehensive as Tommy listened to Evan explain that Abby was transformative for him. Then he shifts into how Tommy has been transformative for him (which, he has, and we as the audience know this, but we understand it from a bigger POV than what Evan is saying with his words.)

There have been posts about Evan putting Tommy up on a pedestal throughout this speech (and really, possibly even sooner, but this is where we really get it expressed). Tommy tries to rectify this to a degree by countering "I wasn't always that way".

To that end, we then get Evan telling him "I know, and it just makes me admire you more." Tommy gives a bashful smile, clearly heartened by the statement, and even opening his mouth as though he's going to respond to it in some form. It would be interesting to know what was on Lou's mind of what (if anything) he thought would've been said there. Are there lines that were removed in this scene? Was 'I love you' actually going to come up? We can't really know. However, there's this part of me that thinks that Tommy thought that they were having a discussion on the depth of their relationship which would've possibly brought those 7 letters to the equation. Either way, this entire bit of facial acting is SO important, because it speaks volumes about how Tommy feels about how Evan feels about him.

From there we get the "I want you to move in with me, and this, THIS, THIS is such an important point for this ENTIRE scene. It's two seconds, but it holds SO much for the narrative. This man, who seems to be on the verge of ...something, clearly (who knows if I Love You was on his mind, or if it was just the fact that Evan was expressing how much he cares about him.) The reason this is all so important is THIS REACTION:

Now again, we don't know Tommy's trauma, but the joy literally drops out of his expression and shifts to panic. Now, speaking solely from the standpoint that these two haven't even said "I love you" yet, his boyfriend steamrolled over him from a possible declaration of love straight to moving in together without discussing semantics. Further, it's not even "I want to live together", it's "move in with me". We don't know much about Tommy's house (because these shitheads haven't built him a set yet), but we know that he has a HOUSE. With a GARAGE. Buck lives in a LOFT. Regardless of how much of an asshole this makes me sound like, it's crawling with red flags. It comes across as "fit more into my life" instead of "lets do this thing together". Further, if that's not bad enough, mention of getting engaged and married is thrown at Tommy as well, which holds two major bits of information: One, these are on Evan's mind. We've NEVER heard him talk about getting engaged or married to anyone. This speaks to the importance of their relationship to him, but the lack of I Love You also speaks on his own trauma. If we truly are getting the rom-com trope, at some point there's likely to be a conversation about why he lept over it (*cough* Taylor, his parents *cough cough*). Meanwhile, as he's continued in his starry-eyed speech, this is what Tommy is giving:

Now for those who don't know how to spot it, this my friends is a PANIC RESPONSE. The shift forward, the move to get up, the literal deep breath. He's having a panic attack. Now, obviously we don't know what brought this on, but god-willing, we WILL get the answers.

Now, to his own point, Tommy doesn't just straight up pop Evan's pink bubble. He does express that it's a sweet sentiment, but that it's a bad idea. To which point we get:

"Evan, that is so sweet. But I can't move in with you." "And why not?" Because. I know how this ends." "Uh, what-what's that supposed to mean?"

At which point, we clearly get the qualities about Evan that Tommy likes. "Incredible guy. Big-hearted. Hot as hell. Impulsive." I don't feel that the expression here matters as much as his tone of voice, because we can see on his face that he's expressing these qualities from a good place. The next point of reference isn't until Tommy's next line, when he says that Evan's reaction is out of things being "new and exciting".

To that end, the way Evan is talking to him makes this statement valid. He's not talking to Tommy like they've been together for six months and have built a relationship that should be moving in this direction. (For the tenth time I will repeat, he couldn't even dignify whether he was in love with Tommy when Josh asked).

Furthermore, I think when you consider this part of the scene, you also have to consider the strain in Tommy's voice. Something about those concepts (living together, getting engaged, married) is terrifying. It definitely gives the impression that Tommy has been faced with some version of this before and he got burned. Why is this important? Because of this:

"I'm saying no matter how bad I want it to be, I'm not your last." Those 9 words are important on their own, but when you couple them with the expression on Tommy's face and what we've just seen him go through, there's a clear point to the fact that he's been through this before. I also think that there can't be enough importance placed on the way he intonates "how bad". This is not a man saying no because he doesn't want to. He's backpedaling because he's sure that he's going to get burned. We get this point further driven home with this exchange:

"I'm your first." "But hey, they can be the same thing." "But, they usually aren't."

See this doesn't read to me as someone who's scared because he knows Evan has never been with another man. They're both fully grown adults who have had multiple relationships. What this speaks to me (now) as, is someone who has let someone convince him before that he would be their forever, that they were all in, and then broke him. When you include his childhood trauma and whatever abandonment issues it's left him with in correlation with all of this, yes, it's still an extremely biphobic set of lines. But in the context of what he's expressing and why, it's not about telling Evan he needs more experience, it's about telling him that he doesn't believe that he'll want to stay settled down with him six months, a year, etc., down the road. And THAT my friends, is abandonment issues 101. "Everyone else has left, so it doesn't matter that I'm in love with you, because you will leave too, and I need to protect myself from that."

Following that, we get this: "if I were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it, but you'd end up breaking my heart."

This line is SO important, right next to Evan's exchange with Josh about his relationship with Tommy. Why? Because even though neither of them have said it, it spells out that these two are in fact in love with each other, even if they haven't said it.

"I don't think I could deal with that." Tommy is fucking GONE on him. He's expressing that if he gave himself fully over to what Evan's referring to, losing him would break him. Again, we don't have the full picture on his trauma, but we know there's a mountain there. It's also worth noting again, that the intonation he uses in these statements clearly come across as someone trying to reign in their emotions and keep it together. That says to me that we're dangeously close to touching his trauma.

I don't feel like I have to include the final few bits of the scene in gifs because they're all over the site now, but the next line gives over the fact that he hasn't really been open about his trauma to Evan, given that his immediate response to expressing all of this is "I should go". This kind of reaction is generally brought on as not being accepted for having certain feelings. Now, obviously Evan is caught off guard by the entire interaction, the same way Tommy was (but for different reasons), so we have to take all of that into account when we think about the fact that instead of countering Tommy's logic, he asks instead if Tommy is breaking up with him.

Body language is also so important here for Tommy. His shoulders are hunched in, we see him wipe his face (meaning there are likely tears), and when he turns around, he's so caught up in whatever wave has taken him over that it takes Evan asking him for Tommy to state "yeah, I guess I did" about breaking up. Further, there's the fact that he states that he didn't see the break-up coming, which goes back to my point at the top of this post, that he clearly thought the conversation was going one direction, and instead it goes the other. From this point, we have Evan reeling, because he wants to create more of a life with Tommy, while Tommy is shutting down because of whatever is holding him back.

Finally, as I've referenced before, we get this line:

"Should've known that parking spot was too good to be true."

That line makes zero sense out of context, but in consideration of someone trying to lighten the weight they're carrying (which you can literally see by the way he has his hand on his neck, which you generally only see people do as a stress response). You can also double entendre this statement that getting to be with Evan was too good to be true. We get that little inhale with the smile, and I swear to God the only time I've seen that kind of reaction is right before someone cracks.

And then in closing, we get the "I'll see you 'round, Buck," our closing gut punch. Evan is still reeling, clearly. His face is very "what the hell just happened". Tommy is clearly not okay. This entire scene has opened an entire can of worms on them without a whole lot of answers.

Now, I've owned the fact that basically from the end of 806, I felt like this had to be a swerve, and that there has to be more to the story. I've also pretty much owned the fact that if the writers did actually just do this for kicks and don't have a resolution for it, I may not keep watching. However, in the context of the fact that, for the moment, I'm choosing to put hope in some kind of resolution, these lines make so much more sense. It is worth noting though, most people in the fandom, let alone the general audience, aren't going to psychologically break this shit down line-by-line. They're not going to lean into whatever trauma Tommy has that we don't know about yet. Its why the internet has been a mess since Thursday night. But it's also why I talk about how, when this situation gets resolved (because right now I refuse to say if), Buck has to give up the loft and give more of himself. Tommy, by the nature of the show, has fully immersed himself in Evan's life, but we haven't seen or heard mention of Evan doing so at all in Tommy's life. That doesn't mean he hasn't, but we haven't gotten any version of that. So when I say Evan needs to give things up... it's about matching what he's asking Tommy to give up. Because at the end of the day, when this circles back around, he's effectively going to be asking Tommy to trust that he won't break his heart like others have, and when you have a lifetime of abandonment issues and have learned to cope by being hyper-independent and alone, moving in the opposite direction is more terrifying than anything else. ESPECIALLY when you love that person, which we saw Tommy spell out. Evan has the ability to break him (and probably already is via this cut-off-at-the-quick break up.)

So, I'm really gonna need these shit heads to figure out that they'll be more miserable apart than they'd ever be together.

That's all. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[venusbyline]

Whore ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 21, oct.

(late post) ♡ part 1

— pairing: Spencer Reid x girlfriend!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: edging play

— summary: You are tired of Spencer's brat behavior and decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. After all, despite everything, he will always be your little whore at the end of the day.

— word count: 2.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 21st day, female!reader, boyfriend!Reid, edging play, orgasm denial, degradation, praise kink, drunk sex, reader is a member of the BAU, argument, handjob, jealously, cock worship, body worship, slapping, punishment, crying, dacryphilia, semi-public sex, teasing, implied/referenced cheating (BUT NO REALLY), drunken flirting, relationship issues, trust issues, BAU Team mentioned, minor JJ x Prentiss, minor Reid x JJ (BUT NO REALLY), lesbian!JJ mentioned, brat!Reid, brat tamer!reader, light sadism, light hurt/comfort, masochist!Reid, sub!Reid, dom!reader, long hair!Reid/Jesus!Reid. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

Going to a pub with the rest of the BAU team had been a bad decision. A decision that Spencer made by impulse, always enjoying making you jealous when he was a little bored. He had promised that night you two could finally finish watching the new TV show released on Netflix, but instead he convinced you to go with him to drink with your friends.

Despite the slight disappointment of having to change your schedule for the night, you did not mind too much. You loved having fun with the team and you were almost sure Spencer had learned his lesson after the last punishment when you sat on his face for hours, riding him and using his lips to reach your orgasm, as if he was nothing but your favorite sex toy. And indeed he really was and loved to be that for you.

However, Spencer was also a spoiled little whore. Accepting Morgan's invitation to go with the BAU friends to the pub was supposed to be a true fun time. If he had not fucked up everything by flirting with JJ, you really could have had fun with all of them instead of spending every fifteen minutes drinking a new glass of wine. He wanted to get a reaction out of you, something that would make you mad at him again and making him receive the best orgasm of his whole life, as always happened.

At first, you tried to ignore it. JJ distanced herself from him, also not really liking his not-so-innocent flirting. She did not want you to think she was actually interested about your boyfriend. JJ was the type of woman who was more interested especially about Emily, but also about Garcia and even you sometimes. Reid was not even interested in his friend too, it was all only to tease you. But it was still uncomfortable and no one of the group wanted to be in the middle of the possible argument that would ensue if Spencer continued acting with that childish behavior.

When JJ began to ignore the flirting, Spencer sighed with frustration, drinking his whiskey and looking around the establishment. He saw a beautiful curvy woman sitting alone, also drinking the same whiskey. Noticing his gaze, she smirked, fiddling with her long blonde hair before waving at the shy Spencer.

Morgan's attention immediately went to Spencer, noticing how he giggled at the woman's invitation and handed the promise ring to Morgan, who put it inside his jeans pocket before snorting. "Fuck. That's enough, Pretty Boy. You're really crossing the line now."

Morgan knew about Reid's way of attracting your dominant side. He did not think it was all bad, but he also knew that sometimes his friend crossed some limits. And this was something much more serious than the last few situations. "It's just harmless flirting, dude. You know I love my darling more than anything and anyone in this whole world." Spencer defended himself, really annoyed that Morgan thought he was thinking about cheating the woman who had his heart in the palm of her hands.

"Anyway, Reid. This isn't cool, man. You're already making things tense by trying to flirt with JJ in front of everyone. And now you're still gonna do it while your fucking girlfriend's in the bathroom? What kind of gentleman are you?" It was Prentiss's turn to argue, crossing her arms disapprovingly. "It just makes you look like a terrible boyfriend. Actually, it's a real shame for us, for her and for yourself..."

Spencer's eyes widened with shock. He had never seen things this way. He knew he was acting bratty and spoiled, flirting for fun just to get your punishment. Most of the time, Spencer thought you liked the adrenaline rush. However, looking at the real view, he was starting to worry that you were actually hurt by him. Anyone who did not know the two of you well would think he was an cheating man who did not even respect his own girlfriend in public.

"Oh, holy shit..." He sighed in frustration, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to ward off the effects of the alcohol. Spencer looked at each of the older agents, the slight anger in Morgan and Emily faces, the disappointment in Hotch, Garcia and Rossi eyes, and the clear discomfort in JJ's flushed cheeks, which most of the time was the focus of his annoying advances. "Damn, Jen. I sure I'm just-"

Spencer was about to apologize to his friend, but stopped when he heard laughter. A laugh he knew all too well. The entire team looked back, Spencer's face turning pale as he saw a man with an arm around your waist as you two walked to the table. He tried to say anything, anything at all, but all he could think about was how much stronger the man was than him, practically the same height but with a huge difference in muscles, his large hand clasped around your waist as if you were a little doll.

"Guys, this is Nicholas. Or Nick. As I prefer to call him. We met at a coffee shop a few days ago. Nick, these are my teammates at the BAU." You smiled, hands on his strong arm that was bursting out of his white shirt.

"Hey..." The man said with an attempt at a friendly smile, but he did not quite manage it. Spencer was profiling him too well to know that Nicholas was trying his best not to let his arousal show through the shorts he wore, due to your warm hand on his skin.

Spencer waited for you to introduce himself as your boyfriend, to tell the stupid boy that you were his girl. However, the brief look you gave his empty finger was enough to let him know you were nor going to do that. Spencer internally cursed himself for taking off the damn ring and giving it to Morgan. That stupid plan to flirt with the blonde girl in the other part of the pub had already evaporated from his mind, but the consequences were just coming.

After some more time of small talk, Nicholas finally left, saying he needed to get back to the house because he had to study for a casting audition the next morning. The agents said goodbye to him with friendly waves, while Spencer continued with that angry stare, his bad mood only getting worse when Nicholas gave you a brief grab on your ass and a soft kiss on your cheek, humming something like "See you another day, princess" and coming out as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The atmosphere became tenser after the same moment that the pub bell rang to announce Nicholas's departure. "Well, I guess my girlfriend's nothing but a fucking greedy whore..." Before anyone could argue, you grabbed Spencer's arm without any usual tenderness. Morgan even tried to get up to help both of you resolve the situation, afraid that it would escalate into a violent argument. Even though he trusted his best friends, the thought of a stubborn couple fighting after drinking so much whiskey and wine made him apprehensive, but Hotch motioned for him to remain seated, indicating that the argument was none of their business. The entire team knew Spencer and you well enough to know what would happen in the pub bathroom.

"You really think you've any right to call me a whore?" You growled, your hand unbuttoning the khakis that Reid was wearing, listening to him whimper and try to cover the damp spot on his white boxers. He wanted to keep arguing. He wanted to stay angry as hell after your intentional flirt with that idiot playboy. Spencer really doubted that Nicholas was as smart as he was. Or that Nicholas had as many bachelor's degrees and doctorates as he had. "You think you've the right to call me a fucking greedy whore, when you're the one who's always teasing me, hitting on all the women just to piss me off?"

Your fist closed around his cock, already turned on and sensitive just from the tension of the fight. Spencer tried. He really tried hard to take control. But that had been impossible after you dragged him through the halls while he was calling Nicholas a "stupid actor" and saying you were a cockslut desperate for male attention. Anyway, the wiser reaction was being pushing him against the wall of the women's bathroom — fortunately empty thanks to the few people in the establishment.

"And you are, darling. You're a little whore..." Spencer growled, closing his eyes so he would not watch how your hand moved so quickly on his cock, pinky and needy of your touch, already dripping and proving that he was your little whore, and not the other way around.

"Oh, am I?" You increased the speed, the natural lubrication that dripped from his glans not being enough to stop the slight stinging that came with the friction. It was like rubbing himself raw, and yet Spencer moaned, rolling over his eyes with the ache, whimpering for more. “You look like a noisy slut.” You spat on his cock to ease the pain he was enjoying. On the one hand it was good, as the burning subsided and your saliva was cold from the wine you drank before the argument. But on the other hand, Spencer pouted at the lack of agony and the way you began to rub him slowly. "You like it when it hurts so bad, don't you?"

Your mockery made Spencer bite his lip and smirk, his cheeks flushed with a look that indicated how much he always enjoyed suffering at your hands. He lifted his hips forward and you watched with a raised eyebrow as he fucked himself inside your hand, his hips starting slowly and enjoying the way you let him use your fist to pleasure himself. You did not even need to move, seeing his slutty smile and head arched back, his jaw line forming such a perfect angle that you had to stop yourself from moaning at the sight.

When Spencer's hip movements started to get faster and more erratic, you huffed and took your hand away from his crotch, the soft sound of his cock hitting back against his own thin stomach mixing with the sound of your boyfriend's whimpers.

"You see now? You're nothing but a brainless brat, Spencer. Can't you even ask me to cum? You always have to make a mess? Can't you do anything right?" You practically yelled and he sobbed, squirming against the wall and ignoring the cold tile pressed against his pretty ass.

"I'm so sorry, darling..." He sobbed again, one hand trying to touch himself and the other running through your hair as a way of wanting to beg you for forgiveness, but without saying that.

"Yeah, you should feel that way."

The sad pout appeared on Spencer's lips again. He should not have called you a whore. He should not have arguing with you for letting Nicholas flirt right in front of him, when he teased you like that all the time too. In fact, Spencer had realized that he should not have extended this kind of teasing for so long. He had crossed boundaries and made your relationship stressful. Spencer knew you were hurt by this now and he could not blame you.

"Darling..." He tried to touch you, but you pulled away, spitting into your palm and wrapping your fingers around his girth for the third time, hearing his eager whine. You knew he was just jealous, actually always feeling insecure and wanting punishments. However, you did not want to hear anything right now. You pulled his shirt up, forcing the fabric over his mouth, which he bit against his will, despite the tears in his eyes. Tears that were both of relief at being touched again and sadness at knowing that you did not even want to hear his apologies.

"Stay like that. Like the jealous and needy little slut you are." You ordered, kneeling on the floor in front of Spencer and staring at the sight. His wide teary eyes, his teeth biting into his shirt, his flushed cheeks and his long hair damp with sweat... And most of all, his skinny body and belly contracting in anticipation, your nimble fingers caressing the reddish head of his cock with a smirk on your face, lightly licking the tip and hearing a muffled whimper escaping from those pretty swollen lips. "I'm gonna tease you for as long as I want. And you can just cum when I tell you to, you understand?"

The sharp slap you gave his thigh made Spencer sob with both pain and pleasure, pulsing in your hand as he nodded with some desperation. He needed this. He needed to cum. He needed to be a good boy for you. Your own little whore.

"That's it, my good boy." Despite your anger, you actually smiled for the first time since the whole damn mess started, pressing a soft kiss to the red mark on his skin where you hit him. And Spencer's cheeks flushed, not just because of the horny, but also because he loved you so much. He would be your good boyfriend again.

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[cupidriki]

UNDER THE MISTLETOE — psh

PRECiS ♡ you didn’t plan to attend sunghoon’s birthday party, but you reluctantly went and ended up kissing him — the man you hate the most.

park sunghoon x fem! reader ୨୧ non idol au fluff some angst ・ implied second chance kissing mistletoe kissing exes to lovers this might be a trailer hehe skin ship parties ( wc : 1040 ) — reblogs, comments, and likes are very appreciated

ai’s love note 💌 this is for liz’s season of love event !! ^0^ (im so glad you’re back liz) sorry this is corny btw ..

You scanned the room anxiously, noticing no familiar faces as you crossed your arms in nervousness. You never enjoyed parties.

But once you noticed Sunghoon walking towards you, a sense of relief washed over you as you saw him approaching, making you sigh in relief.

Park Sunghoon - the only person who can make a lie taste so sweet. The way he can make a comment so dulcet feels like he possesses some kind of power when his words roll off his tongue.

“I’m glad you came, love.” He had a silly grin on his face. He always flirted with you, never leaving your side. You avoided his flirty remarks because why would he love you? So, you kept your distance and pushed him away.

“Hoon, how many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?” Your voice was annoyed, making Sunghoon curve into his signature grin. He was excited like a little boy hearing his nickname from you.

“But if I leave you alone, I’d have to annoy girls who are interested in me” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. He’s been continuously chasing after you like a dog and is always attached to you, scaring off any guy who dares to stare in your direction.

“Like you could ever find one” It’s clear you were lying; Sunghoon can have any girl he wants.

“See that, there! Who needs affection when you could have blind hatred” Sunghoon had a smug grin on his face, inching closer to yours. Your heart skipped a beat, but you chose to ignore it and scoffed, not wanting to feed into his trap.

“Anyways, how about a birthday kiss to make this birthday special?” The arrogant man lifted your chin to lock your gaze on his tall figure, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Whatever..” You whispered to yourself, hoping that Sunghoon hadn’t heard you.

He gently guided you to an empty corner, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a playful grin lighting up his face. The innocence of his smile was contagious, and it tugged at your lips.

Without warning, a sharp gasp pierced the air, drawing your attention. Sunghoon stood there, his eyebrows arched high in a sarcastic way, a smirk playing on his lips. He pointed at the ceiling, making you look up in curiosity.

A single sprig of mistletoe hung from the ceiling, it glistening softly in the dim light.

Sunghoon wore a dreamy, lovesick smile that lit up his face, his eyes gleaming with hope and mischief. You couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh, disbelief washing over you.

You would be lying if you said you didn't want to kiss him and his plump lips. However, your ego was too high to admit your feelings and lose to his challenge. “See? Even Santa wants us together”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed as he stepped closer, his height towering over yours. His hot breath brushed against your skin, causing a shiver to run through you. How could a man make your skin crawl while also making your heart flutter at the same time?

“Well then.. Let's make this Christmas special, shall we?” The tall man gently pressed you against the wall, placing your wrist on it. His eyes gazed down at you before moving his gaze lower to your lips, making your heart race.

Your breath hitched as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and placed his fingers under your chin to make you look up at him.

As he muttered a quiet voice of permission, you nodded without thinking before he crashed his lips onto yours. You felt his racing heartbeat that made you think for a second that maybe he was sincere about how he felt about you.

But you were wrong.

Now, snapped back to reality, you feel foolish for believing such an empty lie. Sunghoon never loved you as deeply as you loved him, and you will never see his face again. You stared at the old jacket that you forgot to give back to him, missing all the memories you two made.

Nothing about him could escape your thoughts: the scent of his Tamburins perfume, the delicate way his touch glides over your soft skin, and the way his plump, soft lips brush against yours, leaving a hint of strawberry chapstick.

Memories flood your mind as you let out a sigh, feeling a heaviness in your heart. You remember the times you spent making out in your pink, girly room, stargazing at the moon together, and laughing at your inside jokes, wishing those moments would never end. Each thought makes you miss him more, always searching for his familiar face in a crowd where he’s never present.

His sharp nose, the moles you can count all day, and his messy dark brown hair made you miss him. It seems impossible for him to leave your mind. You want to give up on him - and you know you have to.

You stared at the notification glowing on your phone screen and sighed when you saw your friends once again trying to set you up on a blind date. You thought to yourself that maybe agreeing to it could help take your mind off him, even if just for a short while. With that in mind, you picked up your phone and replied to your friends with a simple, "Fine."

You know deep down that nobody could fit your puzzle piece like Sunghoon, but you know he has never thought of you since the day you two last met - so you have to move on.

But what you couldn't see was Sunghoon lying on his large bed, staring at your photos—missing you so deeply that his heart ached.

He let out a sigh and moved his gaze to the suitcase with his clothes and items. His thoughts were racing as he doubted whether you’d give him another chance to hold you in his arms again.

He wondered how you would react when you saw him again. You probably hated him, and that was okay. All he wanted was to see your familiar face one last time, and he was determined to do that.

[lxciferuss]

Ms. Ackerman

Summary: Levi's newest Squad and yours are both bickering about the humanities strongest soldier's questionable relationship status. They however didn't imagine he'd be married, and to you out of all people.

Warnings: Husband!Levi x Fem!Captain!Wife!Reader. Swearing. Teenagers arguing about dumb stuff. Reader is around Levi's age so it's all legal. "S/N" stands for (your) Squad's Name. SFW!

English isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy!

The distant chatter echoed through the bricked walls to the main hall, where the members of Squad Levi, without their captain, were engaged on a—way too serious—debate about Levi's love-life. Not even the thick, tall wooden doors were able to muffle the constant screams of disagreement between the cadets.

"No! There's no way in hell he's even had his first kiss. Ever!" Connie argued against Mikasa, who was the most hopeful for her Captain and his private issues. She was sat between Eren and Armin, calmly sipping on a cup of freshly brewed coffee while silently enyojing the discussion.

"To be honest, I doubt anyone would ever want to be with him. Have you seen the way he glares at everybody?" Jean jumped in, his face contortioned into an expression of fear and disgust together. "I would not speak a word to him, man or woman."

"I highly doubt he'd even look your way, Jean. You might even be some sort of omen in his day to day." One of your soldiers said, entering the warm, barely lit room. The rest of your squad got in after him, sitting themselves down on the wooden table so to accompany the teenagers. Some others decided to prop themselves up against the wall as there was no space left on the benches.

"My condolences to whoever might be his partner." They all laughed together, even Sasha—who was previously too busy stealing away Connie's dinner to even listen.

"Who's partner are y'all bullying now?" Levi's tone was annoyed and raspy, he glared at the group of cadets that were out, past their bedtime, being obnoxiously loud despite their superior's orders to hush.

His squad froze in fear, stopping all movements as if he couldn't see them that way. Eren gulped, thick, wide eyes looking back at his captain.

Your squad just shut up, smug smiles still plastered all over their faces. They knew better than to try and explain themselves out of Levi's punishment.

"Go spend your time on something wise. This stupid bickering is gonna do nothing to that smooth brain of yours." He sighed, eyebrows knitted together on a deep frown. For times like this he almost regretted choosing a bunch of teens to be part of his mighty squad. Almost.

"I mean- C'mon Captain. When are you gonna tell us 'bout your love li- ow!" Springer held the back of his head, which had been smacked by Mikasa in an attempt to shut him up before he doomed them all.

"Hm?" Levi lifted an eyebrow, wide eyes looking at the group in front of him. He decided to go and make some tea in hopes of freeing himself from the situation.

"Like- Have you got a girlfriend...boyfriend...ever?" Jean spoke and his teamed groaned in defeat. Fifty laps around the training fields weren't sounding so terrible now.

Levi huffed, rolling his eyes as his lips touched the steaming hot liquid on his porcelain cup. He shook his head in disbelief, acting deaf to the questions.

"No offense, Captain, we just don't see you as someone who would have a romantic partner, that's all." Another soldier of yours spoke, nervously tapping their foot on the ground.

"Again, i do not see why my life should be a matter of yours." He sat down on the table besides the younger's, crossing his legs and resting his arm on the back of the wooden chair.

"Please! We want to know!" Sasha whined, mouth full of rice, which made Levi scrunch his nose up in disgust.

Another deep sigh left through his nose, deciding to answer the kids and put an end to the conversation asap.

"If I tell you, will you shut the fuck up?" He groaned, massing his temple with his free hand.

His squad and yours both beamed with happiness, nodding excitedly at the Captain's will to reveal a fact so private.

"Such a pain in the ass." He muttered under his breath, lowering his cup on the table. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Jean's laugh resonated through the walls, hitting Armin in the back and shaking him violently. "I was right! You heard, Mikasa? He doesn't even have a-"

"I'm married; I have a wife."

And suddenly, the room was silent. Mouths agape, the teens turned to look at him, expecting to see some sort of hint of lying on his face.

Levi resumed his tea-drinking, eager to get both teams back to their dorms sooner than ever.

"Sorry, I just- What kind of person would marry you?" A cadet of yours asked, her face still portraying a big shock.

"Why don't you ask your captain instead?"

"Ask me what?" You entered the room with a wide smile, all twelve soldiers automatically saluting. "Captain" you greeted Levi with a deeper voice. He nodded back to you.

"They were asking what kind of person would marry me." His grey eyes glinted as he looked at you, leather straps still attached around your body.

"Oh?" You let out a small giggle, sitting down on top of the table Levi was at, not bothering to pull out a chair. "And what kind of person do you think I am?"

If Jean's jaw was already on the floor, it would easily reach the cellar on the basement below them after the big revelation. Even your squad was a loss of words, exchanging glances between each other.

"Squad Levi, S/N, you are dismissed." Your smile widened at their faces.

"But-"

"Now." Levi's stern voice made everyone rush out of the dinning hall and get back to their dorm room.

"Time you set some limits." You shoved him in the shoulder, a smug grin adorning your lips.

"Time I get a new Squad." He murmured as you both got up and slowly left the hall too, enjoying the rare peace and quiet of the headquarters at night.

[cvnt4him]

piggy backing off that whole hyperserpmia stuff w izuku; imagine y’all going raw for the first time and he accidentally cums inside you and fills you up so good you can quite literally never go back 😵‍💫😵‍💫

thank the heavens someone enjoys it bc oh em gee.

Izuku was so ready to finally have sex with you. He loved you so much and there would be nothing better than to have sweet sweet sex with his girlfriend.

You made out for a little while before you pushed him over, he laid his head back on the pillows and let you take control. You'd never done anything like this but you were ready for this step with your loving boyfriend.

Izuku looked up at you with those sweet wide eyes of his, so completely full of list and greed. That wobbly smile on his freckled face, the feint dust of red that painted his chubby cheeks making him look all the more adorable. He was ready he was practically vibrating.

His cock however was twitching and standing at attention for you to take it. You hovered over him, no thoughts in mind as you ready yourself to take his fat fucking cock down to the base. You inhale and slam yourself down on it in one go.

Izuku groans deeply and hunches over, his head finding itself in the crook of your neck as you throw your head back with an equal groan of your own. You could feel it all... his thick cock twitching inside of your already convulsing cunny it was beginning to be too much for him.

“ shit.. babe don't.., don't move yet. please...~”

His voice was sweet and quiet, asking you with a soft plea to hold on for him. He was literally shaking beneath you. Poor thing, you held him close and wrapped your arms around him shushing him as you put your hand in his fluffy hair, tangling your fingers through his curls and scratched his scalp gently.

He groaned lowly, inhaling your scent and savoring it. Your cunt was so tight around him, his head was going fuzzy and he couldn't even speak. He mumbled words in your ear with little whines at the end.

“ can I move baby?”

He lets out a whimpering whine as an excuse for yes, with that you gently rock your hips into him continuing to scratch his scalp. His eyes roll back and you can feel a moan erupt through his chest, the vibration of it feeling against your skin.

Izuku wrapped his arms around your figure and helped you hop on his cock, he needed more he just didn't want to say it. He noticed how you going up and down felt far much better than the simple rocking and grinding.

“ oh my...— oh~”

His eyes fluttered as he felt his orgasm approaching. One thing you hadn't known about izuku was he could cum as many times as necessary. He let his breath fan your ear as he gently kissed your neck letting his moans vibrate on your skin.

“ oh izuku.. s’ good...”

He hummed deeply and tried to get you to speed up, helped you bounce in his cock as he tried his hardest to get his hips to meet yours every time you bounced up, he hadn't wanted to be away from your sweet warm n tight cunny.

You were so wet and squeezing his cock so tightly the way it jolted inside of you was so pleasing, a couple more bounces up and down you felt his large cock head kiss that sweet spot inside. Your eyes shot wide open as your mouth fell, your jaw slacking as the most lewd and enticing moans left your body.

Your noises were unlike sounds izuku has ever heard, they were nothing more than sweet bliss to his ears. The only song izuku would ever want to hear, he hadn't even realized his own had started syncing up with your own. His groans soon turned to moans that grew more breathy and whinier, his pitch getting higher as his eyes began to roll into the back of his skull.

“ shit ‘zuku— mmph-, ‘m g’na cum..”

Izukus breath quickened as he helped you speed up more, his hips trying their hardest to reach you as he chanted out strings of your name and other jumbled up words. Sweet little ’oh!’s and ’yes, fuck!’s. He was in heaven, you were riding and taking him so well, he was so fucking proud of you.

“ yes, fuck- c'mon baby. c'mon cum f’me, cum on ‘m cock.. please baby, please!.....so fuckin’— s’ fuckin’ proud of you..”

Not only was izuku praising you he was begging and whining for you, his voice was so shaky you could hear the whiney little cracks in his pitchy voice. His moans were so luminescent you swore he was an ethereal being. They must've been such from an angel.

As you hopped on his aching cock a few more times izuku groaned deeply before letting out such a gutteral groans. His eyes were crossing and his head was going blank, stars covering his vision as he couldn't help long milky ropes of cum squirting inside of your cunt. You sigh as you continue gently riding his cumming cock, the sensitivity of your warm cunt continuing to milk him as he came brought the overstimulation.

He whimpered and buried his head in your neck as he let tears fall, he hiccupped as his hips continued bucking up into yours that grinded down on him roughly. You expected him to be done cumming but the more you felt him jerk his hips up the more full you felt and the sooner you realized he hadnt stopped cumming.

“ oh fuck...~ please- so.. hic! sofuckinggood.”

He groaned deeply as he held you down tight on his cock, your eyes widened as you felt the shortness of his cum warm you from the inside out. A couple more jerks of his hips before he was finished and he sighed heavily catching his breath, his chest rose up and down as little mewls left this mouth at the feeling of your cunt still spasming around his still sensitive cock.

You felt so full the thought of getting off his cock made you sad. You could feel the fullness when you breathed, you swore if you got up it would all come pouring out like a waterfall.

“ izuku.. ‘ts s’much...”

He could hardly hear you but he was so quick to hic out an apology for not forewarning you about the excessive amount of cum he came every single time he came.

“ s’ sorry baby m’ so sorry... f’got to tell you I cum so fuckin’ much....”

He whined out in your ear, his hot breaths making your cheeks warm. Your entire body shivered at the estate you were in.

Izuku felt weak from how hard he came, it was always a lot but he swears he's never came this hard before in his life. He gulped down before flipping you two over with a groan, he slowly pulled his limp and creamy cock out of your cunt with a whimpery wince, your walls seeming as if they hadn't wanted to let him go. You sigh as you feel the insane amount of cum come rushing and gushing out of your pussy like a waterfall of milk.

It was so much and it seemed to never end, izuku watched in awe at how well you took his cum, all of it. He hummed to himself with a weary smile on his tear stained face. He couldn't help but to fuck it back into you with his fingers out for curiosity. He didn't want to see his milk leave it's home inside of you.

He was gentle when he ran his two fingers around the sides of your cunt. You twitching cunt so sensitive when he scooped up his creamy hot cum and shoved back inside of your pussy, the cream already around and inside of it forming a white creamy ring wround his fingers like it had hid cock.

The feeling of being stuffed with his fingers instantly made you want to feel his cock stuffing and filling you again with all of his hot creamy cum. Izuku sighed at the feeling of your pussy squeezing around his fingers as he continued fucking them into you slowly trying his hardest to shovel as much of his cum back into you.

You weren't satisfied with the old cum, you wanted more straight from the source. You pulled him up quickly and caught his lips in a heated need filled kiss, so passionate and desperate you both quickly ran out of breath and your spit was soon swapping before you knew it. Izuku pulled away with a heavy breath invade his lungs causing him to cough.

“ need you ‘zuku, need more of yer’ cum.”

His breath was shaky and you swore you seen hearts in his eyes at your sweet welcoming and lust filled words. He gulped down, some of your spit on his lip as it quivered slightly. He whimpered lowly making you smile with a fucked out face. Izuku shivered and nodded lowly a small smile forming on his adorable face, dimples being seen.

Here we go again.

ngh, I think this was my break through. lowk think I ate this DEOWN.

[svearehnn]

sunlight in burgundy | azriel x reader

Summary: Velaris is a place of healing, so no wonder you ended up at the House of Wind. However, you didn't expect to be welcomed by a gentle male and a leather-bound book.

a/n: i don't know what this is!!! just wanted to write and this came out. enjoy!!

Mahogany doors greeted your view, colossal and menacing, hiding anything and everything from your sight. With a deep breath and shaking hands you pushed the doors open. Sunlight greeted you, seeping in from rounded windows that seemed to take up the whole wall. They were open, their burgundy curtains fluttering in the wind. You took in the room with wide eyes, noting the shelves of books, the greenery hanging from the ceiling and winding around the furniture, the matching chairs that held a figure. A sharp breath entered your lungs as you noticed him, his hazel eyes already tracking you. 

“Hello,” he murmured, voice crackling like wood on a fire, his thin, leathery wings shifting ever so slightly as the word left him. You stood still like a deer in the eye of a hunter, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. Of course, the first time you dared to leave your room since you were saved and you had to come across another soul.

“Um,” you stuttered, voice stuck within your throat. “Hi.” His lips curved up in a slight smile, thumb marking his page as he shut the book he was reading.

“How are you?” You took a miniscule step backward, your gaze never leaving his form, hackles on high alert. He wasn’t a threat, you knew that, yet your body reacted otherwise.

“Um,” fell from your lips once again. You blinked slowly, eyes darting down to the book in his hand before landing back upon his face. He followed your line of sight with a quirked brow and a gentle expression as he shifted in his seat, bringing his book up from his lap.

“Were you looking for one of these?” You nodded and swallowed the lump that had settled in your throat before taking a tentative step forward, despite your body screaming at you to run away. He became molasses as he stood, his movements smooth and still in an attempt not to spook you.

“What kind of book are you looking for?” One glance over your shoulder at the doors led you to the knowledge that they had shut behind you and that it would not be a quick escape, but for some reason, your frosted heart was starting to warm. You did want a book, after all. Maybe taking his advice wouldn’t be so bad.

“I just want a, uh, a book.” Your voice came out weaker than expected, a wince taking over your body at the softness you were displaying in front of this winged stranger. He didn’t comment on it, though. Rather, he nodded, and the shadows that seemed to surround him moved. A gasp fell from your lips without consequence, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you watched them disappear down the aisles of books. When you glanced back at him, he was still watching; observing you, looking for something, but you didn’t know what. 

“I control them.” He spoke, jolting you out of your bewilderment. “I am a Shadowsinger.” You hummed, no words slithered up your throat, just awe. You had never met a Shadowsinger before. To be fair, you had actually never met a winged fae before. There were a lot of firsts happening for you in this moment.

“W-what do they do?” You whispered after a beat, catching the shadows in the corner of your eye as they came back to their master with something in hand. He smiled softly, just a tilt of his lips as you’ve seen before, and he took the item from his shadows’ cool grasp.

“They tell me things. Intel, mostly. They also help with moments like this. Here.” He held out the item, and now with the sun shining down on his glove-clad hand, you could tell that he was holding a leather-bound book. “It’s one of my favorites.” You nodded, eyes flitting between him and his outstretched hand. 

There was still a decent amount of distance between the two of you–distance that you were afraid to make disappear. However, if you wanted that book and the safety of your room back, you would have to move forward. You took a step toward him, and then one more, heart rabbiting in your chest as you extended unfounded trust to this unknown male. He waited patiently, head bowed, but his eyes never left your face, as if he was physically unable to look away. With a quivering hand you reached out and swiftly snatched the book from his outstretched hand and cradled it to your chest. His eyes twinkled as he let his arm fall limply down by his side.

“Thank you.” You murmured, gaze downcast, picking apart the threads in the ornate carpet that adorned the rustic wooden flooring.

“You’re welcome.” He responded, his voice warm and comforting, drawing you back in. With your line of sight connected once again, his mouth opened and he uttered his name. “I’m Azriel. And you are?” 

As you took a step back, your name fell from your lips on an exhale, fingers tightening on the spine of the book almost painfully. With a nod of your head you turned and beelined it for the doors, opening one just a crack so you could slip through. The sunlight and the breeze of Velaris faded away as you hurried back to your room to begin reading your new find, however, the mysterious male seemed to occupy your mind more than the book that he had handed to you. Maybe that chance encounter was not chance at all, but rather fate that bubbled deep within the Cauldron alongside a whisper of your names.

[yandereforme]

Part 3: Cass and Steph’s diner adventures

TW: ableism, slurs, refusal of service of homeless kids,a karen, mentions of arson and death

So, Steph and Cass had a tradition of going to a diner every other month, always going to smaller places and funding small businesses. The two of them love this tradition, especially since they make it a game to annoy the karens until the Karen tries to get them thrown out, which is when they reveal their identities.

Duke knows about their little tradition. So when he mentions a small diner only a fifteen minute walk from his school that has amazing milkshakes, both Steph and Cass immediately add it to the list of places to go.

When they visit, they are treated to the sight of a waiter snubbing a homeless kid and telling the kid to leave. They are about to leave and help the kid themselves when they see another waitress who looks to be on break beckon the kid over and give him a slightly burnt bread roll.

You on the other hand, have no clue why your bosses are dicks who hate the homeless, but you have too much empathy for these kids (you certainly don’t see your younger self in them, struggling to get by in a world where everything is against you, no way.) so you have built up a little rapport with some of the street kids who usually come during your break time you usually give them the stuff that you can’t serve, the slightly burnt rolls, the meat that has been under the heater slightly too long to be served, but not long enough for it to be able to make people sick, the steak that people send back because it’s too cooked, etc. it was always easier to give those to the kids during your break rather than after hours, but most of the kids knew not to go in. This must be a new one

Steph and Cass only enter the diner after you clock back in, both grinning at the looks their mismatched clothes get them. They can tell that half of the restaurant is judging them, and no one is clocking who they are. They don’t care about that, though, not really. They care about being served by you, which is exactly what happens after you glare down two other waitresses who seem to be refusing to serve them.

Steph immediately lets herself be loud and chaotic as she usually is, just turned up a little bit to see the other patrons flinch. It seems that you catch onto this too, and you hide a giggle as you take her drink order. When you turn to Cass, she begins to sign, and it looks like one of the watching tables is about to have a heart attack. Especially when you nod and ask her if she wants whipped cream with her hot chocolate. (You are just glad Duke has been teaching you sign language over the past few months.)

You ended up actually enjoying your job for once. It’s clear that the blonde girl is deliberately trying to fuck with everyone in the diner, being loud and obnoxious in a way that you’ve come to recognize as deliberate. The black haired girl seems a lot more calm, and you’ve never been so thankful you understand ASL. Both of them are sweet enough that you actually relax a little on shift. That was your first mistake

Your second mistake was underestimating the Karen two tables over, who when you went to give her her food, had a lot to say. You were quite used to Karen’s after almost 3 years in customer service, but even you were nearing your limit. She kept going on and on about how nothing was up to her standards, and you were just trying to stay calm.

You went to refill their drinks, and that was your third mistake, leaving the Karen alone. Because then the Karen decided that the mute girl enter loud companion, were being too disruptive. You came back out after three minutes to the shouting of the Karen. However, seeing her shout at the nice table who had asked you about your day, made you speed walk over.

Your fourth mistake was getting mad enough to yell. However, you would stand by that mistake. Hearing the Karen insult the mute girl by saying that she was a ‘ret@rd’ was the last straw. You let yourself yell at her to get away from the table.

Your fifth mistake was not paying enough attention to your steps. You forgot about the water that had been spilled earlier that evening, and slipped. That wouldn’t have been as much of a problem if it had just been the drinks on your tray, but you also brought out the pie for another one of your tables, and it went splat onto the woman’s expensive jacket as you fell flat on your face.

Your final mistake was forgetting your bosses hated you, and as the Karen started yelling slurs at you and insisting you be fired, your boss entered the scene. And of course, he fired you on the spot, even telling you not to expect this week’s paycheck. You had barely gotten to your feet before you were shoved out the door, and you stepped into a puddle.

It was ironic, really, that’s stepping in a puddle is what set you off crying. It wasn’t the fact that you were just lost the job that helped you pay for your apartment, that you had to find a new job, that you just been embarrassed and humiliated in front of a crowd, or even that slurs had been screamed at you. It was the fact that you stepped in a puddle and got your shoes wet that made you start crying. 

Steph and Cass had liked you. You were fun and kind, and knew ASL, which had been a fun surprise. They had seen the irritation on your face when the Karen had been ranting, and Cass could tell by your body language you were close to losing your temper. Steph had pouted a little when you left to get the Karen her drink, but both of them had noticed when the Karen approached.

After a minute or two, they both were considering just saying their names to embarrass the Karen, when Cass saw you walk out of the back with the drinks and a pie for another one of your tables. You clearly clocked the Karen and were speed walking over when the Karen decided to use the slur.

Now, Cass had heard worse, as had Steph, but both were still angered by the insult. Cass had enough sense to nudge Steph with her leg when she noticed Steph going for a weapon. However, they didn’t expect to hear you shout at the Karen to get away from their table.

Cass was the one who first noticed you step into the slight puddle. It was almost as if time slowed as you slipped, and the pie flew through the air before landing in the middle of the Karen’s coat. Steph couldn’t contain her laughter at the Karen’s face, and Cass managed to catch a quick picture of the scene before your boss came over.

That was when the good mood soured. Your boss, who they both recognized from earlier, started scolding you in tandem with a Karen, firing you on the spot. This time, Steph was the one who had to nudge Kas with her leg as she could tell cast was gearing up for a fight

A minute after you were pushed out of the building, Cass stood up, as did Steph. Cass quickly went outside to find you, and it didn’t take long. She sat quietly beside you, making sure to be loud enough to be heard but quiet enough to not bother you, as she heard Steph yelling from inside the diner.

You weren’t sure how long you cried, or when exactly the mute girl from earlier came and sat with you, but it took time for you to stop crying. You apologized, only for the girl (you vaguely remembered her friend calling her Cass) to shake her head and sign firmly that no apology was needed. She asked you for your name, and at that moment, you couldn’t care less about how weird the situation was

When Steph left the diner(after putting the fear of the Wayne family in all present, especially the Karen and your boss) she was happy to find you sitting with Cass on a nearby bench, talking about life as if you were already close friends. Steph grinned, and considered you before nodding. You definitely seemed like a good addition to the family.

After your lovely conversation with Cass , you were not expecting much more than a goodbye. You certainly weren’t expecting to be basically kidnapped by the blonde, who had introduced herself as Stephanie “But call me Steph”, on a shopping spree/girls’ day, where you went into stores you had never been in, and your new friends spent an uncomfortable amount of money.(You were just glad you managed to get them to not buy much for you, not realizing the only reason they didn’t was because Cass could tell that any more gifts would scare you off, and had signaled such to Steph, who pouted but backed off. She could give you more later.)

By the end of the night, you were eating at a nice diner before being dropped off at your apartment building(You didn’t notice Steph’s slight frown or the calculated look in Cass’s eyes). You went back to your apartment surprisingly content. You knew the next few days would be hectic as you scrambled to get a new job, but that night, you feel asleep happily, with two new numbers in your phone.

(The diner you worked at burned down not long after, with no casualties, but some employees injured, including your boss, whose burns were quite severe. Karen, or Kelly Jones, was fired from her job at Wayne Enterprises, and was later found dead from an assumed mugging gone wrong.)

(Duke smirked when he heard about Cass and Steph’s encounter with you, even though he felt slight jealousy at the fact you let them buy you things, though it was quickly tempered at the thought of how close you were to coming into the family. The girls already adored you, so now it was only the older brothers and Bruce left.)

(He had already chosen a room he knew you would adore. Soon, he would bring Cass in on the plan, and they could start priming you. For now, he was content to hear your surprised laughter at Damian’s graphic threats to your former boss. If only you knew…)

Hope you like this! Been working on it for a while, but I will finish my next posts of my other aus before posting the next part of this. Also, I may have an interlude with Alfred later, but that’s if I have time. Remember, this is for fun, not my job, so I will take time in between, but I promise I won’t abandon stories as long as people like them :)

Yan!Mafia Batfamily x reader

Part 1:Introduction and Duke

TW: Mentions of murder, mention of harassment

After Bruce’s parents died, Bruce began having the same mindset Red Hood/Jason had in canon; You can’t eradicate crime, but you can control it.

He soon built a persona of the bat, a mafia boss that everyone knew and feared/loved. This is a less moral Batman, who doesn’t personally kill, but has nothing against murder if it’s just.(Justice remains a part of his mission.)

This leads to a slightly more complicated bat family, with each of them playing a vital role as their counterparts, and Robin being the term used for shadowing the big bat, and learning the ropes. (If you want me to expand on that part, let me know$

No one knows the Wayne’s are the Batfam, but they all know they are vaguely connected, with many suspecting a relationship between Bruce and The Bat or The Bat being an illegitimate child of Thomas Wayne(though neither theory is voiced in earshot of the Wayne’s. Connected to the Bat or not, the Wayne family is still terrifying.)

Most people are pretty scared of the Waynes and the Bats like, fearing them and avoiding them 

You, on the other hand, could give less of a shit about them.

You are an orphan with good grades and even better computer skills. So while everyone believed you lived with your parents who traveled, and that you were 17 to your actual age of 13, you got away with living on your own and working a part time job. Working as a waitress wasn’t terrible, though you occasionally had to deal with Karens and harassment.

However, after a terrible night at work where a Karen poured her drink over you and a drunk idiot slapped your ass, you had run out of willingness to deal with bullshit. So, when a trust fund brat tried to make you move from your seat in the library, you refused, glaring at the blurry person standing next to you, ignoring the gasps from the students around you.

You expected him to yell at you, or let his companion, who was glaring hard at you, deal with you. Instead, he spoke briefly with his friend in a language you didn’t recognize. After a minute or so, they both sat down and quietly studied with you

Duke was charmed by your behavior. It has been a long time since anyone outside of the family had said no to him. The look of anger in your eyes was belied by pure exhaustion. He knew you had no clue who he was, and you were too tired to care.

You were interesting. So Duke didn’t let Damian yell at you or (attempt to) intimidate you.(while Damien was very intimidating when he had to be, Duke had a feeling you would not care in the slightest.)

So Duke convinced Damian to sit with him while he observed you studying, instead of discussing Bat business like they had planned. He had known of you, and Duke remembered you being in a few of his classes, but this stunt caught his interest too much to let you go.

You weren’t sure why, but apparently the Wayne kid (or Duke as he insisted you call him) seemed charmed by you basically telling him to fuck off. He started partnering with you in classes when he would normally work alone. He started eating his lunches with you in the library or in the auditorium, even having his brother join you on occasion.

You slowly got used to his presence, and even became begrudgingly fond of him and his little brother, even though his brother tended to stare at you more often than not. You hadn’t had very many friends for a long time, so maybe this was gonna be a good thing.

A big thing with Duke Thomas was that while he may seem calm, he is one of the most calculating of the Yanderes. He will always appear to be on your side, but unable to help you. He will become one of your closest confidence trusted friend , all without you realizing how much of a manipulative and possessive Yandere he is. He just knows that letting you have more of an illusion of power will help in the long run of making you like him.

So for now he’ll be content, letting you slowly come to him, similar to a feral cat. You’ll adore him soon enough. Come to think of it, you might make an excellent addition to the family.~

Edit: Life has been hitting me like a semi truck. I won’t go into too much detail, but I just ended a long-term relationship, had one of my grandparents die, and the other have a stroke. There’s a bunch of other stuff I also could mention, but I don’t wanna talk about it. Updates will be very sporadic for a long time I think. I’m sorry and I really hope you guys understand. Got enough motivation today to finally finish the first part of the Mafia au. Don’t know when I’ll be updating any of the other ones. I really hope you like this.

[dorabellingham]

Bath time

warning: none

characters: jude x mom!reader

summary: when after many football matches, the little boy doesn't want to take a bath

request: yes

may contain spelling and translation errors!

After an intense afternoon of “soccer” in the backyard, little Benjamin was all sweaty, his hair disheveled and his cheeks red from running and laughing so much with Jude. However, when you called him to take a bath, he let out a cry of protest and ran around the room, laughing with all the energy he had left.

—Ben, it’s just a bath, my love!

You called, laughing at your son’s attempt to escape.

—No, mummy! I don’t want to!

Benji replied, his little hands waving in the air as he ran away. He turned a corner and disappeared down the hallway.

Jude, who was watching the scene, crossed his arms and laughed. With an expression of pure amusement, he gave you a knowing look.

—I think today is going to be tough, huh?

—He gets that from you, huh? —You teased, with an arched eyebrow, before bending down and trying to follow your son down the hallway. —Benji, my love, you're all sweaty! You need to take a shower.

You heard a low giggle coming from the guest room and, as you approached, you saw Benji's dark curls peeking through the door. The little boy thought he was very well hidden. You smiled and bent down, looking him in the eyes.

—I found you!

You said, laughing, but before you could reach him, your little boy squealed and took off again, now running towards the living room, where Jude was standing, waiting to help with the capture.

Bellingham looked at his son approaching and pretended to catch him, but gave Ben a chance to escape. The boy ran as fast as he could, laughing loudly, but Jude finally caught him, lifting him in the air while his son struggled, but still laughing.

—Aha! I caught the runaway!

Jude exclaimed, with a triumphant laugh.

—Daddy, no!

Benji screamed, but deep down, he was enjoying the chase. He knew he didn't have much of a chance against his father, but the attempt made it all worth it.

Jude took him to the bathroom, still holding him in the air, while Ben tried his best to get out of his arms, trying hard to push his father away.

—I'm going to tell you a secret, champ... —Jude began, with a mysterious tone. —Did you know that taking a shower makes you even stronger to play soccer?

Benji looked at him with suspicious eyes, still not sure, but the promise of getting "stronger" intrigued him.

—Stronger, daddy? Just like you?

—Just like me!

He answered, shaking his head seriously.

You, who had been watching the conversation with an amused smile, approached and put Benji's little hand in the warm water so he could feel the temperature.

—Look, honey, the water is warm. It'll be quick, and then you can play more.

Ben looked at the water, still looking doubtful, but finally nodded, albeit with a sullen pout. You laughed, knowing he was almost giving in, but still insisted on showing a little resistance.

—Okay, but just a little!

He declared, crossing his arms.

Jude and you helped the little boy into the bathtub and began to soap him up, laughing at the faces he made as they ran the sponge over his arms and legs. He still tried to complain, but he was so tired from the rush that he soon relaxed, letting his parents finish the bath.

At the end, when he was clean and wrapped in a fluffy towel, Benji finally smiled with satisfaction.

—And now, daddy, am I strong?

He asked, his eyes shining.

Jude laughed and ruffled his hair.

—Stronger than ever, baby!

[eu-nicola]

the finish line part 4

and final - part 1 part 2 part 3

summary: you are the girlfriend of Lando Norris, Max Verstappen's rival with whom the tension between the two is undeniable.

warnings: nothing

word counter: 4264

author's note: english is not my first language

tags: @a-beaverhausen @maluzets55

The last few days of vacation had been anything but peaceful. It wasn't just Max's attention that weighed on you, but also the curious glances of others. Every time you went out, whether alone or in company, you felt like everyone was watching you, as if they suspected something beyond what was evident. Although you tried to remain indifferent, the pressure was beginning to affect you.

Max, for his part, seemed to handle everything with the same confidence with which he drove on the track. However, not even he could escape the public eye. When the vacation finally ended and the drivers returned to their routines, the questions at the press conferences began to take on a more personal tone. Instead of focusing solely on his recent championship, the journalists wanted to know more about his life off the track.

"Max, after your victory, you were seen celebrating intensely. Can you tell us more about that?" asked one of the reporters with an insinuating smile.

Max, sitting with his usual confident expression, just raised an eyebrow. “I celebrated like any champion would. It was a special moment for me and my team. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

The answer was direct, but not enough to divert attention. Another journalist intervened, this time with an even more incisive tone.

“There has been a lot of talk about a certain company during those celebrations. Any statement on that?”

Max smiled, although his eyes showed a glint of irritation. “My private life is just that: private. I’m here to talk about racing, not rumors.”

While Max dealt with the media pressure, you faced your own battles. Social media had become a minefield. Comments about you began to appear, some insinuating that you were too close to Max, others criticizing you for not always being by Lando’s side at the most important moments. There were those who said you were seeking attention, that you liked drama. The words hurt more than you wanted to admit. You tried to ignore them, but it was hard when every time you opened your phone there was something new waiting for you.

Lando, oddly enough, seemed to enjoy it all from a distance. Even though he had been your boyfriend for so long, his attitude was almost indifferent.

“What did you expect?” he said to you one night while you were talking on the phone because he had called you. “You’re in the public eye now. This is what happens. You should get used to it.”

His tone was so carefree that it infuriated you. Get used to it? To people questioning your loyalty, your feelings? While you dealt with the pressure, he seemed to enjoy his freedom, attending events and meetings without worrying about what they said about him.

“You know what, Lando? It would be easier if you at least seemed to care a little because you caused all of this,” you finally blurted out, your voice thick with frustration.

“I do,” he replied with a sigh. “But I also know that you can’t control what people say.”

The conversation ended, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Max, on the other hand, seemed ever-present, even if it was silent. You knew that if you texted him, he would respond immediately. But after everything that had happened, you resisted.

One afternoon, though, after a particularly rough day on social media, your phone buzzed with a message from him.

“How are you? I’ve seen what’s going on online. Don’t let it get to you. People always have something to say.”

His message was simple, but comforting. For a moment, you felt like you weren’t alone in all of this, that someone actually understood what you were going through.

The days followed, each bringing their own set of challenges. You tried to focus on your own things, but it was impossible to completely escape the whirlwind that had formed around you.

The weight of exposure began to become more than just an inconvenience; it felt like a constant burden you couldn’t let go of. Every time you opened your phone, every notification, every comment, every message seemed to add a new layer of self-doubt and anxiety. No matter how hard you tried to focus on your own life, your own projects, the shadow of social media and criticism was still there, haunting you.

One night, as you sat on the bed in your hotel room in Spain, you stared at your reflection in the dead screen of your phone. How had you gotten to this point? What had once been exciting—standing next to one of Formula 1’s most promising drivers—now felt like endless exposure to judgment and misunderstanding. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to breathe deeply, but even the air felt heavy.

You and Lando had officially broken up a few weeks ago. It had been an inevitable breakup, a step you both knew you had to take. There were no big arguments, no shouting, just a mutual recognition that things were no longer the same. Lando, for his part, seemed to have moved on without looking back. His social media showed photos of him at events, smiling with friends, enjoying his uncomplicated life. And you... you felt trapped in limbo.

Your relationship with Max, on the other hand, was in uncertain territory. There were no clear words, no labels that could define what you had, but there was something palpable between you both. Every message from him, every look, every conversation was imbued with a latent tension, a connection that seemed to go beyond the physical. You were on the verge of something, and you both knew it.

Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, breaking the silence of the room. You took it without looking, half expecting another critical message or a sensational article, but seeing Max's name on the screen, something in your chest momentarily eased.

Max: "Are you okay? I saw Lando uploaded something new, but he didn't mention anything about you. Do you need to talk?"

For a moment, you stared at the message. How did he always know when you were at your limit? You didn't know if it made you happy or upset. With shaking fingers, you started to type a reply, but you deleted the words before sending them. You didn't want to seem weak, even though deep down you knew Max was probably the only person at the moment who could understand what you were going through.

Minutes later, another message came through.

Max: "I'm here if you need to vent. You don't have to carry it all alone."

That simple statement broke down your defenses. You felt tears build up in your eyes, but you refused to let them out. You had endured so much, trying to be strong, but the emotional exhaustion was too much. You finally wrote:

You: “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Max. It all feels too much… The pressure, the comments, the exposure. Sometimes I feel like I’m falling apart.”

Max’s response was not long in coming.

Max: “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You’re stronger than you think, but I understand that this is all a lot. I want to see you. Let me help you carry this.”

Your heart was pounding as you read his words. There was something about his way of saying things that always managed to calm the storm inside you. The thought of seeing him, of being able to talk face to face, felt like a necessary balm. But there was also fear. Fear of what it would mean to take that step, to cross a line that already seemed so tenuous.

After a long silence, you finally wrote:

You: “I’m not ready for everything that comes with this, Max. But I want to see you too."

A little while later, you received a call. It was him. You hesitated for a moment before answering, but finally swiped your finger across the screen.

"I knew you would answer," Max said in his calm, confident tone. "I'm going to Spain this weekend. Because of you."

"Max, I don't know if that's a good idea," you whispered, though your voice betrayed your true feelings.

“It is,” he replied without hesitation. “Because this isn’t just pressure or exposure. It’s about us, about who we are when no one else is looking.”

His words resonated with you. Maybe you didn’t have to face it all alone after all.

The weekend came quicker than you expected. Max had kept his word and was in Spain, ready to see you. The first time you met him was in the lobby of your hotel. He was dressed in his usual laid-back style: a simple t-shirt and jeans, but there was something about his presence that always managed to capture your full attention.

When his blue eyes met yours, the air seemed to stand still for a moment. Max walked toward you with a determined stride, without any hesitation. Before you could say anything, he wrapped you in a firm hug, one that offered not only comfort, but also a silent promise: You are not alone.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice deep but gentle. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

You stayed in his arms for what seemed like an eternity. All the weight you had been carrying, all the pressure, slowly began to fade away. When you finally pulled away, Max looked at you with an intensity that made you feel seen, completely.

“Max…” you began, but he shook his head before you could continue.

“I don’t want you to worry anymore about what people say. We don’t owe them anything,” he stated, his tone firm. “Let me carry some of this burden with you. I won’t let outside pressure get to us, I won’t let this tear us apart.”

The determination in his voice made you feel a strange mix of relief and apprehension. You had been so used to dealing with everything alone that the idea of ​​allowing someone else to carry some of your worries seemed almost foreign to you. But Max wasn’t just anyone. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he was present, that gave you a security you didn’t even know you needed.

“What if we can’t handle it?” You asked, letting out one of your biggest insecurities.

Max took your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours. “We can,” he replied with unwavering conviction. “Do you know how many times I’ve been told I couldn’t accomplish something? Every time I’ve gotten in the car, I’ve had to prove them wrong. This is no different. We’re no different.”

His words stayed with you, offering a hope you hadn’t allowed to blossom until now. The idea of ​​facing all of this with him, together, suddenly didn’t seem so impossible.

For the rest of the day, Max remained by your side. Every time you saw a phone being raised to take a photo or heard a murmur as you passed, Max squeezed your hand lightly, as if reminding you that it didn’t matter what the world thought. He was there, with you.

That night, as you both sat in your room, Max leaned back on the couch, watching you with a calm smile.

"You know, as much as I love winning championships, being here with you feels like a different victory," he said, his tone lighter now.

“I didn’t know you had such a romantic side,” you joked, trying to lighten the tension in your chest.

“Only for you,” he replied, his gaze sincere. “And if you let me, I’ll prove it to you every day.”

You couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in weeks, you felt safe.

Days had turned into weeks, and your relationship with Max seemed to grow deeper with every moment shared. He was your refuge, your calm in the midst of the storm that continued to rage on social media and in the media. Yet as hard as you tried to stay strong, the persistent criticism was beginning to wear you down. Every article speculating about your life, every cruel comment you unintentionally encountered, made you feel more vulnerable.

The stress was building up. There were nights when you could barely sleep, your mind stuck in an endless cycle of questions and doubts. Was it all worth it? Could you continue to face constant scrutiny? Even though Max was doing his best to reassure you that you were in this together, a part of you was starting to wonder if it would be better for both of you if you stepped away.

One night, after a long day where Max had had multiple media engagements, you found yourself alone in the hotel room in Bahrain where you had flown to join him. The city lights shone through the windows, but they offered no comfort. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you stared at your phone. Notifications kept coming in: messages, social media mentions, articles with sensational headlines.

You sighed and turned off the screen, setting the phone aside. You couldn’t go on like this.

When Max returned, the first thing he noticed was your expression. He immediately came over, sitting next to you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You looked up at him, and in that moment, the words began to come out unfiltered. “I don’t know if I can go through with this, Max. The pressure, the media, the comments… It feels like I’m losing control of my life.”

He frowned, his eyes reflecting both understanding and frustration. “I knew this was hard for you, but you don’t have to face it alone. I’m here, and you know that.”

“I know, Max,” you replied, a lump in your throat. “But I can’t help but feel like by being with you, I’m only making things worse. I don’t want to be a burden on you, or your career.”

Max took your hands, his grip firm but comforting. “You’ll never be a burden on me. And if you think walking away will solve anything, you’re wrong. People will always talk, no matter what we do.”

“What if I decide to walk away?” you asked quietly, fearing his reaction.

Max took a deep breath, processing your words. “If that’s what you need to feel better, I’ll respect that,” he finally said, though his voice betrayed his internal struggle. “But I want you to know that I’d rather face this hell with you, than be without you.”

His words brought tears to your eyes. He always found a way to break down your defenses. But the doubt was still there, fueled by fear and insecurity.

That night, as Max slept beside you, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The decision to walk away wasn’t easy, but perhaps it was the only thing that could bring you some peace. Could you give up what you had to protect yourself? Or could you find a way to endure together, like he wished?

The night progressed slowly and silently. Even though Max slept beside you, you lay awake, caught in a whirlwind of thoughts. The dim glow of the city dimly illuminated the room, but offered no comfort. You turned slightly, watching Max's relaxed face as he slept. There was something almost innocent about his expression, a calmness that contrasted with the storm inside you.

You tried to close your eyes, but the weight of your doubts was still present. You didn't know how much time passed before you felt a slight movement beside you. Opening your eyes, you realized that Max was also awake now. His blue eyes, still heavy with sleep, looked at you with a mix of concern and tenderness.

"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly, his tone laden with a care that only he could offer at this hour of the morning.

You shook your head, unable to find the words. Max sat up slightly, propping himself up on one elbow as he watched you closely.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he insisted, gently caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

You took a deep breath, trying to contain the flood of emotions. But his eyes kept searching you, offering a reassurance that only he could provide. Finally, you decided to speak up.

“Max, I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “This whole world, the constant attention. And the last thing I want is for it to affect you, too.”

Max remained silent for a moment, processing your words. Then, he sat up fully, turning to face you.

“You know something?” he began, his tone firmer now. “Ever since I started in this sport, I’ve always been surrounded by people who admire me for what I do on the track. People who celebrate my victories and forget about me as soon as the season is over. But you… you’re different.”

You were surprised by the intensity of his words, and he continued before you could respond.

"You're the only person who truly sees me, beyond the driver, beyond the titles and the races. With you, I can be myself. I don't have to prove anything, I don't have to win to feel like I'm worth something. And that, to me, is everything."

Your heart skipped a beat, and Max moved a little closer, taking your hands in his.

"Without you," he said with an honesty that took your breath away, "this all becomes meaningless. Every time I cross the finish line, every trophy I lift, even before you were with me, before Lando stole you from me... it wouldn't mean anything if you weren't there for me."

The tears you'd been holding back began to fall silently, but Max didn't look away. Instead, he squeezed your hands tighter, as if to assure you that he wasn't going to let you go.

"I need you by my side," he confessed. “Not just because of what we share, but because you are my balance. You are the person who reminds me why I do what I do, and who I really am when everything else shuts down.”

You stayed silent, letting his words sink in. You had underestimated how important you were to him, how much you meant beyond the insecurities and doubts that plagued you. Seeing him like this, so vulnerable and honest, made you realize something: you weren’t alone in this. It wasn’t just your struggle; it was both of ours.

“Max…” you began, your voice shaking slightly. “I need you too. But this is all so hard. I don’t want the pressure to destroy us.”

“It won’t,” he replied determinedly. “Together we are stronger. It doesn’t matter what people say, what they think. The only thing that matters is what you and I feel. And I feel like we can handle this. If you’re willing to try, I’m not going to let anything or anyone tear us apart.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and hope. Max pulled you close to him, wrapping you in a warm, protective embrace. You stayed like that for a long moment, finding comfort in each other's closeness.

The next day was not really just any other day, after weeks of preparation and nerves, the first race of the year was finally here. Nerves ran through the paddock, and the usual bustle of competition filled the air, but there was something different this time. You had come, as always, to support Max, but this time you would do so in an even more visible way, closer to him than ever.

Max, with his relaxed but focused attitude, was ready to prove that, despite the rumors and criticism, nothing could stop him. He had told you about how he wanted to start the season with a win, not just for himself, but also to show the world that he was at his best, that nothing the media said or speculated could tarnish his success. He looked at you before getting into the car, his eyes shining with fierce determination, but also with a special warmth just for you.

The race was action-packed, as you would expect. Max stuck to his strategy, fighting for every position with that mix of precision and bravery that characterized him. Every lap was a mix of excitement and anxiety, not just for him, but for you, who were watching from the pits. You knew how much this victory meant to him, and as you watched him outpace each opponent, the tension took hold of you.

Finally, the checkered flag fell, and Max crossed the finish line in first place. The sound of the engine fading as he celebrated the victory made your heart skip a beat. As soon as the race was over, all eyes turned to him: the champion, the favorite, the icon.

You ran to him as soon as you could see him, where you found him surrounded by his team. You couldn’t help but smile in happiness for him, but also at the feeling that, in that moment, everything that had happened between you had come to this point, to this victory. When Max saw you in the crowd, his face lit up. There were no words needed; he just ran to you, wrapping you in a hug so tight you almost felt like he was lifting you off the ground.

After the anthems and champagne, trophy in hand, Max stepped up to the camera for an interview that was, of course, going to be broadcast live. What happened next surprised everyone. Instead of going on with the typical answers about the race, Max took a moment, with a smile full of pride, to talk about you.

"I want to dedicate this win to someone very special," he began, his words laden with sincerity. "To my amazing partner, who has been with me through the toughest times, when I needed it the most. I want everyone to know that without her, this win wouldn't have the same meaning. She is my support, my strength, and my love."

Your heart was pounding, but what touched you the most was his next statement.

“She’s the person who makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever been, and I can’t imagine my life without her. My love, you’re the love of my life.”

The cameras focused on your face, and even though a torrent of emotions washed over you, you couldn’t help but smile shyly, a little embarrassed by the sudden attention, but deeply grateful for his very public support. Max hadn’t just won a race; he’d done something much bigger: he’d opened his heart in front of millions of people.

The moment became more intense when the crowd applauded, and some began to cheer for you as well. Even though you knew that not all of Max’s fans would be happy with his statement, something in the air had changed. The media had tried to paint you in many ways, but in that instant, it didn’t matter. Max’s victory, the way he had publicly defended you, was a clear message: you were together, no matter what anyone said.

As the days passed, something unexpected happened. Amidst the criticism and speculation, you began to notice a change. The comments started to become kinder. At first, some of Max's most loyal followers were still hesitant, but as time went by, their support for you began to grow. Photos of the two of you, the photos that Max shared of you, in which you looked so happy and peaceful together, began to appear on fans' profiles, and words of support began to outweigh the criticism.

You were surprised to see how many people were willing to embrace your relationship, to understand that behind the image of a successful driver, there was a real person, someone who also had the right to be happy and to love. Some of the fans, even the most skeptical, began to comment positively on the posts, talking about how beautiful you looked together, how genuine your relationship was.

One night, after a race, while you were sharing a quiet moment with Max, you received a message from one of Max's most loyal followers. They said something simple but profound: “We are glad to see you so happy with Max. You deserve all the good that is to come.”

That night, as you went to bed, Max came to you, smiling with that familiar calm, and whispered in your ear: “See? The rumors don’t matter anymore. What really matters is what we have built together.”

And finally, after so much effort, so much sacrifice, you knew that you were both ready to face the future, not just as a couple, but as an unstoppable team. Together. And perhaps in the future, as a family.

[millersfinest]

the thing in your chest that beats ⁴ | e.w

santa barbara!ellie williams & ex-firefly!reader

wc: 5.9k

mini-series: california | oregon | idaho | wyoming (you’re here)

tags: @elliecoochieeater

blurb: you put up a good fight with those rattlers, but it wasn’t good enough—all it got you was strung up near a beach where the sun scorched you dry. abruptly, their set-up gets fucked by their own prisoners, saving your life by only a thread. but the wrath that lingered under your skin was immense, and you’re not the only one to experience that phenomenon. when another damaged soul encounters your brittle state; the dreams that put you in a tough position manifest into reality. along with a few extra miscellaneous things…

cw: healing!reader, healing!ellie, vulgar language, ellie being avoidant as hell, slow-burn romance, little jj, reader being really depressed at the beginning, little time jump, sexual content but not smut per se, pure sugary sweet ending (almost pissed ME off)

note: omg final chapter!! i didn’t really know how i wanted to end it, so i went through scenic route. i hope you guys enjoyed my little series, because i had fun writing it.

wyoming

For the first time in a long time, you were cozy—absolutely bored and comfortable, and what a delight that was! The settlement in Jackson was everything that you had hoped for. It was warm and welcoming. Not by everyone, but by enough to want this place to feel like home. When the moon replaced the sun and the stars trickled over the night sky, warm yellow lights flickered on. Draping over the center of the settlement, where the establishments flourished. Lighting up a path that was being adorned by the first snow of the year.

It’s been a while since you’ve seen snow in all its icy glory; you were nothing but a child then. Waking up from a troubled sleep, in a spacious home that you could call your own, you shuffled to a frosted window. With your arms wrapped around your body, looking to see minute flurries fluttering from the sky. Collecting in piles on the outer edge of your windowsill.

After a month of already being in Wyoming, at the settlement, reality had set in. You were no longer a soldier, or a slave, or a traveler. Finally, you have made it to the place that was nestled in your mind for endless days, weeks and months.

Relief. Solace. Everything you’ve ever wanted. Except for one thing.

The house was a two-story home, with beige striped wallpaper; mahogany wood accenting arches separating rooms, cabinets, bannisters and floor boards. Upon your arrival, it was already furnished. A long, soft maroon couch. Decorated with quilts and knitted blankets from neighbors. A square wool carpet laid flat under a mahogany coffee table. Lamps in various places, warmly illuminating the room.

A dark wood dining table. Iron cookware. Upstairs, a quiet bed frame with a decent mattress and comforter on top. A couple of pillows. Two dressers. A proportionate closet—this house looked like a home. Minus the adjustments and additions you were planning for. However, it didn’t quite feel like a home.

It was empty… Or you were empty.

Since your arrival, talking with Ellie became a challenge. You rarely saw her; it was like she handed you off to the officials of Jackson’s and dusted her hands from you. It was dramatic to ruminate over a woman who’s only obligation was to get you to Wyoming—to this community. That’s what you tried to tell yourself to stay in line, but it wasn’t working. Even after busying yourself with different jobs and tasks to start earning your keep, you still thought of her.

Hell, you caught glimpses of her. Jackson wasn’t that big. She’d be walking hand-in-hand with a small child, a toddler, talking intimately with a dark-haired woman. You saw them together often. It could only be assumed that they were important—her ex-girlfriend and son. Well, now, you were uncertain if that was her ex-girlfriend… But, again, you shouldn’t be ruminating. You got what you wanted, remember?

It was an early morning when Maria had asked to meet with you, at a coffee shop in the middle of the square. Dressed in an insulated coat with a hoodie underneath, a pair of trusted light-wash jeans and black leather boots; you began a trek from the corner of the settlement in a light layer of snow. The asphalt wasn’t cold enough to let it fester just yet, but the grass held onto the ice. Headphones rested over your ears, playing a tape gifted to you as a housewarming gift from your young neighbor.

Some old rock band from the 90s. Nirvana’s About A Girl played in your ears as your boots crunched the snow.

It took about four songs off the album for you to get to the coffee shop. Pulling the flimsy headphones down to rest around your neck, you entered the shop looking for a head of sleek blonde hair. An aroma of burning coffee beans and sugar infiltrated your nose. Small chatter was heard from people holding warm mugs, looking at old newspapers, reading novels.

From a table in the far corner of the shop, Maria stood to wave you over. A friendly smile spread across your lips, taut and plastered, as you approached the square wooden table. “G’Morning, Maria.” You reached your hand out to shake her hand, professionally.

She looked down at your hand, snickering. Impressed by your insistence on professionalism. After all, she basically was your employer. It was the one thing the fireflies taught you well—respect your superiors. “Good Mornin’,” Maria firmly shook your hand, taking her seat.

The heaters in the shop toasted up your exposed skin, causing you to remove your jacket before sitting down in the seat across from the older woman. Two cups warm mugs were put in front of you, almost on cue, by a young girl with a maroon apron. “Thank you, Melissa.” She smiled at the barista. “I wasn’t sure if you liked coffee, so I just ordered you a hot chocolate. Hope that’s all right.”

“Oh, it’s fine. No complaints here.”

“Good.” Maria curtly nodded her head, pulling a black binder from a bag hanging on the back of a chair. “You’ve been sleeping well in that house?” Dabbing her middle finger on her tongue, she sifted through the pages and hand-written documents.

You blink, wrapping your hands around the ceramic mug. “There’s good nights and bad nights…” Nodding, you attempt to take a sip of the hot beverage, but it was too scolding. “Not the fault of the house, just me.” The ends of your lips curl as a softener to your words. Being negative in the face of someone who granted you a place to stay felt like a crime.

Maria hummed, looking up at with genuine blue eyes. “Well, I hope there are more good nights than bad nights.”

“Yeah, of course!” You shrugged, answering entirely too quickly. Which certainly gave away the fact that you telling the truth. Her icy blues were intimidating, although you’ve seen much worse than a pair of eyes.

Falling asleep alone, in the dark was another challenge you had to face. After spending months on the road with someone, knowing they’re there… It was an eerie feeling being far from them—being along. Especially, those last few weeks leading up to knocking on the community’s door. Whenever you found a place to camp out for the night, her arms would be wrapped around you. Or your arms wrapped around her. Relishing in each other’s clothed or bare bodies; it had become a tragic comfort.

Your skin burned for her like it did on that fucking pillar. It tingled, ached and wanted for her touch. Her lips. Her eyes. Her hands.

The nightmare’s of your traumas persisted when you closed your eyes. You wanted to blame it on Ellie’s absence, but they rarely surrendered with her around. But at least when you woke up, boiling, sweating and heaving like you’d just run a marathon, a pair of arms were there to lull you back to sleep. Kissing the back of your neck to remind you that you weren’t there anymore—that you were safe.

And, when she had her moments, shooting up from your arms with tears rolling down her cheeks. You coaxed her back to sleep with her head on your chest, and affirming whispers.

You couldn’t help but wonder if those moments meant as much to her as they did to you.

She hummed at your response, pursing her lips. “If you’re having any problems let me know. I have some great remedies to help with sleep.” The blonde woman offers, a soft smile spreading on her lips. You nodded, chewing on the soft skin inside of your lip. “Now,” Maria begins. “I see that you’ve had some time to try out some of the positions we offer. Have any taken your interest?”

Flipping through a couple of pages, she continues. “I’ve heard great things from Ava Marin, she manages the patrols. Uhm, and Mrs Hayworth, from the gardens and greenhouse…”

“Mrs Hayworth is a very kind woman. I enjoyed working with her— she’s great at explaining things.” You compliment, thinking about the few days you spent with her planting vegetables and fruit. Her salt and pepper hair puffed in coils around her cherubic but wrinkled face. Crowd feet leading to a pair of squinty hazel eyes. Mrs Hayworth treated her plants like they were her children, and she enforced you to do the same.

“She is— wonderful woman.” Maria agreed.

Humming, you think about all the jobs your tried—which was a lot. Patrol was something that you were used to. Being out in the world wasn’t a grand change. However, you weren’t certain that you wanted to go beyond the walls so often. You’ve spent lots of time patrolling, surveying, killing infected—you wanted to hang that up. Every once in a while wouldn’t hurt, though. “If I were to sign up to help out with the gardens… Would that mean that patrolling would be off limits?”

The blonde woman shook her head, pursing her lips. “Not at all! For patrol, it’s in a sign-up basis. If you were to mainly do patrol, it would mean going out every other day. If you were to mainly work the gardens, that would be more of a consistent job— but you could still sign-up for patrols if you wanted.” Maria informed. “As long as you’ve been approved to go, and you have.”

“Hm…” You thought, weighing your options. The inner rage that you harbored had remained dormant since you arrived. It had been replaced with rumination and sadness for things out of your control. “Gardening full-time seems serene… I’ve spent enough time out there.” Nodding, with a subtle curl to the corners of your lips, you admitted.

Maria begins to scribble with a pen on a sheet of paper, connected to the rings in the binder. “Sounds fitting. But, of course, you can change your mind anytime.”

After you deal with business, Maria continues conversation with you. Casual, of course. You could tell she was trying to pry without being obvious—wanting to know more about you. Willingly, you gave in, because why not? It’s been a long time since you’ve had a real conversation with someone. Maria Miller seemed genuine enough.

However, when she brought up Ellie, the air stiffened. And you could tell she noticed it.

“You and Ellie… Have you spoken, lately? It’s been hard getting a hold of her— it’s like she’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time.” She chortles, taking a sip of her coffee. Pressing her lips together at the bitter taste.

Stunned by the mention of her, you shook your head. Fingers growing numb around the warm, untouched, hot chocolate. “Uhm, no I haven’t…”

She hummed, leaning her head to the start. “That’s odd.” Maria scoffs, bunching her eyebrows. “She made it seem like you two were very close— being that you traveled so far together…” It’s like she was thinking out loud, making you want to bolt from the wooden chair holding onto you. “I mean, she made sure that you got the best house in Jackson… I would assume that she would’ve at least visited—“

“Well, she hasn’t.” Sternly interrupting her, you inhaled, sharply.

Noticing the mistake, she sighed, looking at with blue eyes filled with pity. It irked you. Trying to fix it, Maria plastered a bittersweet smile on her lips. “She’s more like Tommy than I thought.” Bunching your eyebrows, she continued. “My husband— ex-husband— I don’t know… It’s complicated.”

You know the feeling… Kind of.

Ellie had told you about Tommy Miller. He was a very ambitious man, to say the least. Ambitious enough to send a grieving girl to kill someone in his absence—feeding off her own despair. You caught that much. But, if it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have ever met her. What a selfish thought. “They’re both hermits in their own right, but they always come around.” She released a wistful sigh. “Ellie will come around… Just give her some time to get all her ducks in a row.”

With tight lips, you nodded. How much time? You desperately wanted to ask, but you didn’t. Instead, you stood up, pulling your jacket over your shoulders. “Thank you so much for the hot chocolate, Maria, but I have to go.” Speaking quickly, you slid your arms into your puffer jacket. Maria abruptly stood to her feet with an inquisitive expression.

“Oh, well, uhm,” She began, rubbing her hands together. “Of course. You’re schedule should be out in the next few days. Consider the meantime your sabbatical.” Her eyes drifted over your frame like a concerned mother. “It was a pleasure talking with you, y/n. I’m glad you could join us here.”

Sending another tight-lipped smile her way, you stuck your hands into your pockets. “I’m glad you let me. See you around.”

Leaving the coffee shop, the cold air was a smack in the face. Pulling you from shackles of solemnity—briefly. Raising your headphones back around your ears, you resumed the tape inside of the Walkman clipped to your hip.

Thin flurries of snow began to fall from the bright grey clouds. Trickling over the strands of your hair, melting in contact. Stuffing your hands back into your pockets, you walked down the icy path of the square.

The main square in Jackson was littered with people. Some were standing around conversing, with cigarettes in their hands. Some worked pulling supplies in large wooden carts, moving them to another establishment. You seen a man on a ladder fixing a broken light on the outside of a pub. And a woman walking a train of small children holding hands—like they were on a field trip of some kind. They laughed and giggled under knit beanies, bundled in their jackets that may have been too big for some.

A smile appeared on your lips as you watched them march by you.

You stopped at an art store, looking up at the wooden sign. Quoting Maria, you were on sabbatical; so, you wanted to use this time to fully explore the settlement. In the month that you’ve been in Jackson, you have visited the local pub more often than you’d like to admit. Entering the store, a bell sounded, and you smiled at the few people walking around the decorated shop.

Organic paints and brushes were located in the back corner of the store, taking up two walls and some floor space. While the rest of the store harbored artwork from the people who lived in the community. And some refurbished work found outside the wall. A sign on the wall read: talk to an attendant for group and private classes. You hummed, impressed by the normalcy. Perhaps, you could sign up for one.

Meandering around, your eyes survey the paintings and drawings. Thinking about your home, it could use some personalization. You came across a landscape portrait of two women. The strokes emulated grass—olive tones—that they were lying on—intertwined with each other. Arms and legs entangled. Lips grazing each others cheeks. The strokes that were made were intentionally blurry and messy. Who were these women? Was their relationship as unofficial and indifferent as your own?

Fingers grazing the canvas of the painting, you couldn’t help but think of that freckle-faced woman you’ve grown to adore.

“You interested in that one? Nice choice.”

Even though your headphones played Nirvana in your ears, you could still recognize the outsourced voice. Her voice was like honey. Soft, warm honey. Luring you like a spell spoken by a witch or warlock. God, you missed the sound of her voice. “Funny thing is… The woman who painted this actually has a husband.” She chuckled, glancing at you with a nervous glint.

You froze at the sound of her voice, eyes glued to the art before you. Just blinking. Buh bum. Buh hum. Your heart beat in your ears, in your chest, in your hands—everywhere! Skin growing hot as if you were sat in front of a furnace. Were you mad or just upset? It was hard to tell, even for yourself.

The smile on her lips faded, immediately. Fiddling with her fingers—she always did that. “How’re you settling in—?”

“I’ve already settled in…” Your voice was eerily calm, side-eying her as you spoke. “I haven’t seen you in five weeks, Ellie.”

She sighed, adjusting the knit cap over her hair. Licking her lips, nervously. “I know—“

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” When you finally look at her, she notices the irateness in your eyes. Crowding over the feelings of yearning and sorrow.

“Can we talk? Please, just let me explain.”

Gritting your jaw, you peer at her. Thinking about hashing it out within a small walk. But, you were tender, sensitive—you couldn’t be sure that your reaction wouldn’t be explosive. What if she told you she was getting back with Dina? Going back to her family. That alone could send you into ruins. And you too far from your house to escape the public once you unleashed hell upon that woman. “You know where I live.” You told, with a pinched expression.

That was your cue to leave the store, pulling your hoodie over your head. Maybe, today wasn’t the day to tour the community. Another day. Plus, you had to spend the rest of the day anticipating a knock at your door.

It was a glum walk back to your place. You had put your Walkman on pause, walking in a depressive silence. Each step you made up your porch was deliberate and slow. An old swing chair swung in the wind, bolts shaking once you put your weight on the porch. It wrapped around the entire front of the house, and it definitely needed more décor.

Entering your house, you hung up your jacket and kicked off your shoes at the door. Stalking up your staircase, leaning in the railing, you made your way to your bedroom. The un-made bed beckoned you; so you kicked the door closed, and jumped under your covers. Hopefully, getting some shut eye could ease your nerves.

The sleep was rocky—you were in and out. In the moments when you awoke, you pulled a book from your bedside table to read—George Eliot—hoping to fall back asleep. But the novel only intrigued you for hours. Distracting from that anticipation long enough for it to come sooner than you expected.

It was dark, but it was no later than six-thirty.

You approached the door with a heavy heart, sliding your fluffy socks across the wooden floor. The reveal of the woman on your porch caused your body to heat up once more. She turned around, still dressed in the clothes from earlier.

“Hey,”

“Hey…”

Pressing her lips into an awkward line. “Nice porch.”

Scrunching your eyebrows at the compliment, you abandoned the door while it was ajar. Telling her to enter without losing your dignity. Ellie stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. “Shoes off.” You tell her, waving a hand, carelessly.

Walking to the kitchen, you threw onto the stove a metal kettle filled water. While your innate anger was healing, there was still pridefulness about you. You had to have some sort of control over any situation that you’re in. Ellie came to your house; this conversation was on your terms. And it was going to stay that way.

Ellie had navigated around your living room, feeling the softness of the carpet under her feet. I did good. She thought. Ellie taking part in the decision making for your accommodations was true. She wanted to give you the absolute best, because she knew she was going to need some time alone.

Appearing from around the corner, you leaned against the mahogany frame lining the entrance to the living room. With your arms stubbornly crossed over your chest. “You have about seven to eight minutes before that kettle goes off, and when it does, this conversation is over.”

She slid the hat from her head, dragging it down to the place over her belly button. Kneading the fabric with her thumbs. “Do you not want me here?” Her voice cracked, hands smacking down at her sides. “Because we can talk another time—“

“Six minutes.”

Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “You know, what?” Ellie scoffed, striding past you toward your kitchen. Irritation rushing through her nerves. It confused her how she could be so obsessed with someone who might’ve been more stubborn than herself.

You followed her into the kitchen. “What the hell are you doing?”

The woman reached for the kettle, taking it off the small flame. Flicking off the fire, she turned to look at you. “You’re not gonna give me six minutes to explain myself— I’m not gonna let you rush this.”

“I’m not rushing anything.”

Narrowing her eyes, she crossed her arms. Leaning her back against the counter, coolly. “Are you seriously insulting my intelligence, right now?” Ellie raised an eyebrow, mocking words that you’ve said in the past.

Squinting your eyes, glaringly, you scoff. “Just… Talk, Ellie.” You waved your hand, leaning on the threshold bordering the kitchen and the small foyer. Perhaps, you were pushing it a bit too far.

The auburn-haired woman sighed behind speaking. Placing her hands on the edge of the counter. “When I left… It was an immediate decision— made in the middle of the night in a farmhouse I shared with my girlfriend, now ex-girlfriend, and my kid.” She began, eyeing you intently. “I left my family behind, y/n, including Maria and Tommy and anyone else in this fucking community that I knew.” Her hands moved as she spoke, passionately. “In that moment, I don’t think I ever planned to come back. There was nothing to come back to…

Then, I met you. When I thought I traveled so far for nothing— I met you.” Her olive eyes looked to the ceiling, thinking. While your heart blundered under your ribs. “Coming back was never my intention, and I left that way. So, when I walked through those doors… I had a lot of work to do. A lot of bridges to mend and gain the trust of again— which I’m still doing, by the way.”

Her hand jutted out, before slapping against her thighs. “I didn’t mean to ghost you like that. Truthfully, I was overwhelmed.” The woman confessed, scratching the back of her head. “For the first two weeks, I was begging for Dina to let me see JJ, my son. For the next, I was arguing with Tommy for letting Abby go— it was a lot. And I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to put any of that on you.” Pursing your lips, you nodded. “You’ve been through enough… I was protecting you. I wanted you to just focus on settling in.”

“Well, it was hard settling in without you.” It almost came out like a whisper—a little louder than a whisper. Followed by a dry, stubborn chortle. “I spent months on the road with you, and it’s like you just hung me out to dry. That fucking sucked.” Averting your eyes, you peered at the shining floorboards.

She nodded, frowning at your downcast expression. But, there was an element of proudness. Give or take a few weeks back, you’d argue her down over anything. However, this time, vulnerability leaked from you. Poured from your words and demeanor like liquid gold. “I know, and I’m really sorry. It was fucked up. But it will never happen again— I swear to you.”

“What if something else comes up?” You question, chewing on the skin inside your lip.

“I’ll clue you in— every time.”

You hummed, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the status on you and Dina?”

Ellie rubs her nose with her index finger, ready to answer your rapid-fire questions. “Cordial co-parents.”

“Does she know about us?”

A goofy smile spreads across her plump lips. “We’re an us?”

Narrowing your eyes at her, fighting a little grin, you responded. “Answer the question, Ellie!”

“Oh, my God! Yes, she knows about us, and she’s happy for me.” With amused features, she begins to slowly approach you. “Now, are you done with the twenty questions game? Because you haven’t accepted my apology once…” She pouted, sliding her hands over your arms, pulling them from their crossed position.

Batting your eyes at her, feigning thought. The touch of her fingers on you sparked a fire, setting your skin ablaze. Even if it was in your best interest not to accept her apology, you probably still would. The way her eyes looked into you with such gentleness—it couldn’t be replicated by anyone else. “I accept your apology…” You admit, grazing your fingers up the sleeves of her flannel.

“Fuck, yes!” She wasted no time to embrace you, wrapping her arms around your neck. Tightly, you wrapped your arms around her back, leaning your head over her shoulder. “I missed you. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you?”

“You have no choice but to make it up to me.” You spoke against her exposed skin, pecking the side of her neck. “For the sake of lost time.”

Ellie giggled at the brush of your lips, pulling away with raised eyebrows. “Oh, shit. I almost forgot— be right back.” She runs to your front door pulling it open, and leaning to the side to grab a flipped canvas that was leaning against the outside brick wall. It was the portrait you were considering buying at the art store. “Housewarming present!” She grinned, presenting it in front of herself.

You matched her smile, reaching out to take it from her. “That woman is totally gay for making this.”

“So gay. I feel bad for her husband.”

Sharing a laugh, you look back at her, setting the canvas to the side against the wall. Walking up to her, you grabbed her face, caressing the skin of her cheeks. Musing at her earthy features, taking them all in like you’d never see her again. The last time you saw her, it’s like you took it for granted—not knowing if it was going to be a while before you got to look at her the way you wanted to. Leaning into her, you pressed your lips against hers, unabashedly. Her hands found comfort at the divot of your waist, pulling you flush against her.

Sliding your hands down to the nape of her neck, the kiss deepened. You whined into her mouth when she slipped her tongue between your lips. With the combination of her grip on your waist and the taste of her lips, you wanted to merge your bodies—so she could never leave your side again. You’ve survived enough tragic loss; was it so bad to want this one thing? The touch of your troubled lover.

Ellie backed you against the wall, muttering against your lips. “I wanna take my time with you…” She began to trail hot kisses over your cheek, down your jaw, to the sensitive parts of your neck. “Show you…” Smack. “Just how much…” Smack. “I love you.”

Under the waistband of your jeans, you throbbed, but the thing beating inside your chest swelled and beat louder. “Y— You love me?” The tips of your fingers scratched at her scalp, comfortingly. As she pulled her face from your neck, her freckled cheeks flushed.

“Yeah, I do.” Her thumb came up to caress your jaw. “I really do.”

That was your cue to completely devour her. You pulled her upstairs, into your bedroom, to ravish her—to ravish each other. Stripping from your clothes to come unto one another with a sickening love. Her lips traced every part of your body; suckling, nibbling, tonguing down the most sensitive parts. Pulling moans from your diaphragm, seamlessly. She cooed for you and spoke filthily in your ear while touching you with a gentle firmness that only she could replicate over and over—making you come undone hard. As if the universe came from within you.

Stars, planets, galaxies—celestial bodies!

You and Ellie were two halves of one whole. Everything that led up to that beach happened with the purpose of bringing the scorned together. To cancel it out, blossoming something much greater. Somehow, you proved to each other that you were both worth saving. No matter the sin. No matter the guilt. It was all worth it to end up wrapped in her arms, skin to skin, caressing her battered epidermis.

As months progressed, gearing up for the spring season, Ellie had long moved her stuff in. Her easel and unfinished works nestled in the guest room. Her clothes were stuffed beside yours in the drawer before your bed, and the closet beside your door. Bringing in sunrises with sleepy, feathered kisses and innocent touches. It was a dream you both got the chance to live out.

This wasn’t enduring or surviving—it was living. Experiencing life.

With your hands covered in dirt, replanting a radish, joyful voices were behind your back. Looking over your shoulder, a tiny frame was trotting toward you, calling your name. Ellie in his trail, with her hands in her pockets.

Gasping, you turned around with a grin. “Hey, buddy!” You opened your arms for him to promptly land in them. Keeping your hands far from his jacket so the soil wouldn’t dirty him up.

“Careful, JJ, she’s working!” She tried, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, Ellie, it’s fine.” You waved a dirty hand, sliding them off your fingers, dropping them onto the grass. So you could reach under his arms to hoist him onto your hip. The sun landed just right on his little head, sparkling off his small growing teeth.

Ellie’s lips curled at the sight. “He wanted to come visit you at work before I dropped him off.” She meandered toward you, pecking your lips.

“Just JJ? Or you, too?”

“Both of us, whatever.” Playfully, she rolled her eyes. “Plus, I had to remind you of our dinner date tonight— its mandatory. You can’t be late.” Her fingers pushed fallen pieces of your hair from your forehead.

Once you had gotten into the grove of gardening, time flew by. It would go from seven in the morning to eight in the afternoon like it was nothing. Causing you to miss out on some of the plans you made with your generous lover. “You’ve been reminding me since I got up this morning. Trust me, I remember, Ellie.” You squeezed his chubby cheek, cooing at him. “Ugh, I love him.” You gushed, peering between him and your girlfriend.

“Oh!” You pulled a folded-up paper from your back pocket. “JJ, you wanna do me a big favor?”

His eyebrows lifted, grinning.

“Give your mama back this recipe for me, all right?” He takes the paper in his hands, preparing to unfold it. “Promise me you’ll give it to her…”

“I promise!”

“Okay, bud. Tuck it tight into your pocket until you get there.”

Instead of unfolding, he pushed it into the pocket of his coat, messily. Patting it, to let you know it was inside. Kissing him on his cheek, you put him back on the ground. Eyes glancing at the watch on your wrist. “Well, I gotta get back to work.” Your hand found hers by her side, leaning your body toward her arm. “Thanks for visiting me, babe. Letting me see that beautiful face of yours.”

Ellie blushed, averting her glazing eyes. You leaned your head closer to hers, warmly kissing her cheek. “My pleasure…”

“I’m sure.” You teased, inconspicuously biting her ear. Quick enough that it went unseen to the surrounding people, and JJ as he played with the leaves sticking out of the garden. Ellie released an airy sigh, narrowing her eyes at you. She whined your name as if she were embarrassed. “Don’t be like that— you know I love you.”

“I love you more… But you have to chill. Mrs Hayworth is right there.”

“You don’t know Mrs Hayworth like I do.” You snicker, waving a hand to the older woman a few bins away. The salt and pepper haired woman waved, sending a teasing wink. Ellie looked back at your with confused, and slightly horrified, features. “I’ll tell you about it later. At the dinner I’m not going to be late to.”

“And you better not.” Ellie poked you, with pouty lips.

“Ellie, I won’t.”

“Okay, I believe you.” She kissed you one more time. A little longer. A little deeper. “I won’t keep you from the vegetables anymore. JJ, say buh-byes.” He jumps from a squat, waving his hand with a smile. “I’ll see you later. C’mon, kid.” Ellie hoisted him up into her hip and began walking back the way she came to deliver him to Dina’s. Leaving you with metaphorical heart eyes, pulling your gloves back onto your hands.

And, when later came; over a hearty chicken dinner prepared by Ellie Williams herself, a shiny silver band was presented to you in the pages of a book. Laying over an underlined and highlighted excerpt of the book—something you highlighted. It was a novel you had finished sometime between the end of December and early January.

“‘What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to feel that they are joined for life–to strengthen each other in all labour, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent unspeakable memories at the moment of the last parting?’” Ellie had recited, evenly. With not a speckle of wavering, or awkwardness, or pause—unless it was intentional. “Adam Bede. Your favorite book… I hope it’s your favorite book.”

Jumping from your chair across from her, you leaped into her arms after placing the book into the dinner table. Pecking your lips across her face. “Yes! Yes! Ellie, a million fucking times, yes!”

“I didn’t even ask the question.” She laughed in your ear, looking up at you with dilated pupils.

Pulling back, you narrowed your tearing eyes at her. “You don’t have to. I already said yes.”

“But isn’t that the exciting part… Popping the question?”

You scrunched your eyebrows. “I thought the exciting part was me saying yes to marrying you…?”

Ellie spent days studying George Eliot, hours setting up the dinner, and minutes shaking with anxiety. Working herself up to saying those magic four words, only for your to swipe the chance right from under her. And, honestly, she loved you more for it. “All right, can I at least put the damn ring on your finger?”

“‘Course, you can, Els.” You pull the book toward you, opening it up on the page with the ring. Ellie takes it from your fingers, glancing at you with opalescent olive eyes. She slid it onto your ring finger, delicately twisting the band around. You grinned, hopelessly, with your bottom lip between your teeth.

Her hand trailed up your arm, squeezing. “My lucky charm…” She muttered, thoughtfully.

“I’m all yours.” You lean close to her lips, glancing at them. “And you’re all mine.”

Neither of you were able to finish the dinner while it was hot.

[cloudselkie]

For Miri and Siebren:

1. Ah, pre or post accident? Pre it's definitely Miri. Post it is unfortunately Siebren.

2. Miri gets it for this one. Siebren is more private than she is.

3. Siebren has and will continue to forget to text her back. Science can be so distracting, you know.

4. This also goes to Siebren. His age factors into this, but also he loves music.

5. If you look up the definition of oblivious in the dictionary, you will find both of their pictures. They're pretty dense.

6. Oof, Miri and her poor ADHD ass can never find her keys.

7. Miri would be the one to apologize first. She values harmony far more than Siebren, who is more likely to hang on to negative feelings longer, especially if he feels he is in the right.

8. Oh, absolutely Siebren. He has never been much of a party guy anyway.

9. See #1. Same situation.

10. Miri, and only if it meant getting to show up Siebren for a few minutes before revealing her deception. Siebren would never - his pride won't let him.

11. Neither. These two are dead if they end up on a deserted island. But more likely? Probably Siebren.

12. This one also goes to Siebren and he doesn't always care if he's alone, at least for humming.

13. Miri has played wing woman to Helena so many times.

14. This one goes to Miri, but Siebren is an old sap when he wants to be.

15. 100% Miri. She's always worn her heart on her sleeve.

16. While both would like to avoid unnecessary run-ins with local law enforcement, it's probably Miri just due to being more socially adventurous than Siebren and more likely to end up in a weird situation.

17. Siebren. He has a terrible habit of having a running commentary during movies, but it's usually pretty funny, so Miri enjoys it.

18. Siebren on a technicality - he said it in Dutch and she didn't know what it meant until weeks later when she remembered to look it up.

19. They're both cuddlers, honestly.

20. Siebren isn't great with dates, but he does keep a calendar to help him remember important ones.

21. Siebren wins this one. He's got style, but functionality is definitely his main concern with clothes, and he tends to lean on classic mens' clothing colors and styles. Miri on the other hand loves bohemian styles and bold colors.

22. Siebren's private nature makes him an excellent confidant. Miri, though she does respect people when they ask her not to share something, is more likely to spill the beans if she feels it is necessary.

23. Miri is hotheaded and more likely to immediately stand up to someone in a fight. Siebren, however, is more likely able to WIN that fight.

24. Miri again on this one as the naturally more outgoing of the two. The gala was an anomaly and Siebren wasn't entirely sober when he asked Miri to dance. Liquid courage is right!

25. These two are both night owls, and they are both well known for foregoing sleep in order to finish whatever they were working on. However, Miri is probably worse because being younger, she is still able to get away with it better than Siebren.

Send this to someone who has OCs

Most likely...

to get lost

to kiss and tell

to 'forget' to text back

to know the lyrics to every song you play

to not realize that they are being flirted with

to lose their keys repeatedly

to apologize first

to leave a party early

to get lost in a place they already know

to cheat while playing a game

to survive in the wild

to sing when they think they are alone

to be someone's wingman/woman

to plan a romantic date

to start blushing

to get arrested

to talk during a movie

to say I love you first

to be a cuddler

to forget about someone's birthday

to always wear the same outfit

to not be able to keep a secret

to defend their friends in a fight

to drag the other's to the dance floor

to fall asleep first at a sleepover

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 8

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Sky didn’t have much of a temper.

Even if she was frustrated or annoyed, she rarely got angry or lost her patience. 

It wasn't that she didn't have emotions. She did. She felt things deeply, passionately. However, she also believed that there was no point in wasting energy on getting angry. It didn't solve anything. It only made things worse. 

So Sky had learned a very, very long time ago…that there was no need to start screaming, because her stutter didn’t allow her that anyway…and that maybe…maybe it was easier for her to just let go off her anger about being unfairly treated. 

Getting angry wouldn’t help her. 

That day however…it burst out of her. Burst out of her like somebody had lanced an abscess. 

Her family could say whatever they wanted about her. But they were not going to say a single word about Azriel 

It was Winter Solstice.

Azriel and her had spent the last month or so enjoying winter season in Velaris…even once trying to ice skate on their lake, which only ended with him kissing her skinned knees, because she was definitely not a natural at it.

They had bought Winter Solstice gifts, and baked cookies…had decorated their house with pine garlands and velvet ribbons…

She had knitted them socks and they had made rabbit stews out of rabbits Azriel had hunted in the forest behind their house. (It was…she had never really seen him as a warrior, even when he wore these black leathers and the blue stone that glinted off him…but she could see him as a hunter, when he came home with a couple of rabbits, ready for dinner. It had also resulted in a new fur lined blanket for her, all ready on the couch. 

She had never outright asked…but he seemd to like it when she was cuddled beneath it, like it seemed to soothe some kind of instinct for him. Maybe the fact that it was the animal he had hunted?)   

Sky and Azriel had both made the decision to spend the days with their respective families and have their own Solstice celebrations the next day…that would pretty much sonsits out of a lazy day in bed and nothing else. 

It sounded amazing. Just what they wanted. 

And it had made sense to celebrate like that. She hadn’t wanted to be the one to keep him from his family after all, even if the thought of not spending Solstice with her mate had hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Azriel had been up ridiculous easily in the morning for a snowball fight that was apparently tradition…but not before he had spent a good half hour making her scream his name with his mouth between her thighs…

Afterwards, she had gotten dressed and left the shadows to amuse Hector for the day… and Sky had left to help her mother with dinner preparations.

A nice, quiet family dinner. Nothing more and nothing less.

That’s what it was supposed to be. They didn’t even get that far.

It all went to shit before dinner was even in the oven. 

From the moment she entered her parents house it was a barrage of barbed comments. About her appearance, her stutter, her lack of an boyfriend…her lack of a proper job. (Sellyn Drake was hers. Sellyn Drake was nothing they got to gossip about.) 

Sky had bitten her tongue. She had ignored the comments, tried to enjoy herself. But Claire never knew when enough was enough.

Her sister kept at it. Kept needling, jabbing at Sky until the little bubbles of anger popped to the surface and boiled into something…bigger.

“I…I met my m…mate,” Sky finally said flatly, after anther jab at her lack of a boyfriend. 

Take that Claire. Not just a fiance. A mate. 

Finally in just one thing Sky had been faster than her sister. 

A mate. That mystical rare mating bond had been a gift from the other for her and not for Claire. 

It caught Claire off guard. She stopped pacing, and turned to look at her sister, brow raised. The look said ‘Oh is that so?’ as if it was the kind of nonsense she had come to expect from her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, clearly not believing a word Sky said. 

But Sky wasn’t going to let this go. “His n..name is Azriel,” Sky said with a smile. “We are ver…very hap…happy.” 

They were. They were so happy. So delightfully happy. (So delightfully happy that Sky had been wondering if maybe…maybe the should start trying. High Fae fertility was hit or miss anyway…why shouldn’t they simply start trying and see where it would take them. And if it took two decades, then it took two decades. If it only took a year or three…well, then they were lucky.)  

Claire narrowed her eyes. She was about to say something mean, Sky could see it in the way her lip curled up.

“He…He's a g…good male,” she said firmly, cutting Claire off before she got the chance to spew out anything else.

Claire laughed. It was a harsh, biting sound.

"A good male? Really, Sky?" she sneered. "You actually fell for that line?"

It wasn’t a line. It was the truth. 

Azriel was a good male. Patient and intense and loving. He had never raised a single finger against her.Azriel would never hurt her intentionally. 

 Claire just wanted to belittle Sky in front of their whole family.

"You must be even more naive than you seem if you believe that," she said, almost pityingly. "You really think he wants you? That he actually cares about you? Nobody could want you. I bet he just pities you."

It should have hurt her, she realised. It would have. Even just months ago, it would have hurt her. 

But right now…right now it didn’t really. 

She was supposed to believe that Azriel didn’t want her? The same male that had spent the better part of an hour on his knees in front of her that very morning, eating her out like a starved male? She was supposed that her mate, who’s arousal shot across the bond like an inferno any time she slipped off her clothes, didn’t want her? That the same male that stared at her like she was a goddess, that spent hours worshipping her body with his hands…that she had nearly made come simply by touching his wings a few days ago didn’t want her? 

Still…Claire's words had their effect. She felt a small stab of doubt in her heart, and she hated it. She hated that her sister could still hurt her like this, still make her feel like that insecure little girl who stuttered and couldn't get a single word right.

“He…He l…loves me and I…I love him,” Sky said calmly.

That was clear in every single one of his actions, in every single word. 

“Where did you even meet him?” Sky’s mother demanded. “And what kind of name is Azriel?”

“In…In a bar. Wh…When we went out for Cl..Claire’s Hen Do.  And I im…imagine it’s an Il…illyrian name.”

Everything ground to a halt.

“He’s Illyrian?!” Her mother demanded sharply. “What’s wrong with you, Skylar!”

Sky flinched at her tone. It was harsh, angry. It was the same tone she'd always used when Sky was younger and got anything wrong or stepped out of line.

"Yes, he's Il…Illlyrian," she said, meeting her mother's gaze levelly. "What's…what’s wrong with that?" she asked. 

She knew that her family wasn’t the…most open about Lesser Faes, but…but that hatred in her mother’s voice….she hadn’t expected that. 

“Everything,” Admon gave back with a snort. “You seriously let that barbarian fuck you? I am surprised you actually survived that and he didn’t just rip you apart.”

Every bit of colour leeched out of her face, except her ruddy red cheeks at these crude words. 

This was Admon. Once upon a time, she had wanted to marry him. To have his children. To spent her life with him. 

And…and this was what he told her to her face. 

“I can’t believe that you even let a creature like him touch you,” her mother breathed staring at her with utter disgust.

“He’...He’s not a cre…creature,” Sky bit out. Azriel was her mate. 

“Is it true by the way?” Her brother wondered. “That Illyrian’s have a cat’s prick?”

"Orin!" her mother exclaimed, aghast. "Don't be vulgar! I don't want to know."

Orin shrugged, a smirk dancing across his face. "What? I’m just curious. I am sure Skylar knows. She must please him somehow when she’s still alive to enjoy their…couplings.”

Sky felt ill. She didn't know what to say, what to say in defense of the man she loved. She couldn't get a word out.

“Did you…did you let it touch you?” Her father demanded finally, his voice icy.

It. Not even him. It. Like Azriel was a thing. 

Sky felt her heart drop to the floor, breaking into pieces.

"Yes," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Her father's face grew stony, and he took a step closer to her.

“How dare you?” he hissed. "How could you let a monster touch you like that?"

"He's not a monster!" Sky protested, her voice rising. "He's…He’s k…kind and gen…gentle, and-"

“And I am sure, he keeps you stuffed with his cat prick to keep you satisfied,” Claire drawled.

And Sky was done.

Somehow that was the last straw. 

Somehow that made something inside her break, irreparable. 

It snipped away every thread that ever kept her close to the family that she had been born into. 

“At least I didn’t need to take my sister’s sl…sloppy s…seconds,” Sky said, her voice flat, meeting her gaze full on.“And yes, Azriel more than keeps me s…satisfied.”

Silence descended over the room, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Sky felt the tension in the air grow heavier with each passing second.

"You…you didn’t just say that,” Claire said coldly. "You take that back, Sky.

Sky raised her chin defiantly. "No.” she said simply. “I'm…I’m not taking back the truth," she said, her voice ringing with unexpected steel.

"You do not speak to me like that," Claire hissed. "You have no right—"

Something inside Sky snapped. Years of frustration, years of feeling invisible and ignored, years of enduring Claire's taunts and jibes all bubbled to the surface.

"I…I have ev…every right," she shot back, her heart pounding in her chest. “Not so fun when you are on the re…receiving end, is it?”

“Either you end your…dalliance with…that creature, or you are no daughter of mine,” her father snapped.

He talked to her like she was nothing. Like she was worth less than dirt beneath his boots. 

And somehow that made it even easier. 

“You want me to turn away my mate…for what? This?” She asked him, cocking her head to the side. .

"For the sake of our family’s reputation," her father said. "You are an embarrassment to us all by associating with that…lesser fae barbarian.”

Barbarian. Lesser Fae. Thing. Creature. Monster.

All of that said about the male she loved. About her mate. 

“He’s Illyrian,” Sky said, her voice icy. 

“Oh come off it,” “Orin snapped. “He’s lesser fae. The only thing they are good for is being fodder for the armies during war times. Other than that, they are worthless.”

Fodder. 

“We have Lesser Fae ancestry ourself,” Sky responded icily. “Our great grandmother was a River Nymph.”

"That was a long time ago," her father interrupted sharply. "It was one ancestor generations ago. And besides, her blood was not that strong to begin with."

Sky thought back to the eyes that looked back from her mirror each day. Blue and beautiful. The one trace of her that got passed down to her.

"Maybe it was her blood that made you think that opening your legs for that creature was in any way appropriate," her mother hissed. 

And suddenly it was so easy. 

“Azriel is my mate,” she hissed. “I will al…always chose him over you. You can spew what..whatever insult you want about him or his pe…peoople. He’s still a bet…better male than any of you could ever hope to be, has treated me better than any of you. I’ll gladly no longer be your daughter.”

She felt the sting of tears running down her cheeks, but she didn't try to wipe them away. She just stared back at her family, daring them to say more. There was a short moment of silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

She should have expected it. Her mother had always been quick to slap her if she did anything anything that she didn’t like.

Just this time…her hand didn’t make contact.

Sky stared at the tendril of shadows that jerked her mother’s hand back, having suddenly appeared. 

*You. Will. Not. Lay. A. Finger. On. Her,* the shadows hissed menacingly.

Sky stared at the shadows, her eyes widening in shock. They were angry. No. Furious. Utterly and completely furious. Her mother seemed equally taken aback, her hand still outstretched in the air where the shadows had stopped her.

Orin looked like he was about to piss himself, and her father…her father stared at the shadows, his face ashen.

“Come here,” Sky said quietly.

The shadows left her mother to come swarming to her, brushing over her cheek in greeting before wrapping themselves around her neck in a clearly possessive move.

Sky felt the familiar warmth of the shadows sink into her, a small bit of comfort in this awful situation. She turned to her family, her jaw set.

"I’m…I’m never coming back," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. And with that, she turned and walked away, She had only taken a handful of steps when she stopped and turned back, one last thing needing to be said, before she closed the door on this chapter of her life forever.

"I never want to see any of you again," she said, her voice shaking only slightly. "And when we have children, don’t you dare come and ask to have anything to do with them. You don’t deserve to even breath the same air as my mate."

With that, she turned and walked away, her head held high. 

***

Whatever went on between sky and her family…it wasn’t good. He could feel that in the bond slumbering underneath his breast bone.

He rubbed it absentmindly, staring in the flickering flame of the Birchin.

He had won that Snowball fight. Once more. One more victory to add to it.  Not that he particularly cared right now.

*Is she alright?* he asked the shadows.

The shadows were…quiet. And that spoke volumes. Something wasn't right. Azriel's heart pounded against his chest, his instincts urging him to act. He had to make sure Sky was alright. He couldn't stand to think about her being in any sort of trouble.

*Physicallly unharmed,* the shadows promised. *Her family is horrible,* they told him distastefully. 

Azriel's heart clenched at the shadow’s words. While it was a small relief that Sky wasn't physically hurt…her family being horrible made him want to grimace. 

“Alright, I had it!” Cassian snapped at that moment. “What the fuck is going on with you two?”

Azriel turned to his brother, seeing Cassian watch Rhys and himself with an expression of…something. Exasperation maybe.

"What do you mean?" Azriel asked, his voice even, feigning ignorance. He was really not in the mood to get into that either. But apparently he wasn’t going to get that small bit of mercy. 

"Don’t play dumb with me, brother," Cassian said, rolling his eyes. "You are both moody and more distant than usual. What the heck happened?"

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Azriel said flatly. Cassian rolled his eyes.

“Rhys?” Cassian demanded with a sigh. 

“You want to explain or shall I?” Rhys addressed him and Azriel just looked at him flatly.

“You gave the orders, High Lord.”

If Azriel had been in a better mood, he would have smirked. But right now, he just wanted this whole conversation to be over so he could check on Sky. The thought of her made his chest ache. He longed to see her, to hold her, to make sure she's alright. But he knew that Cassian and Rhys wouldn’t let him go without an explanation.

“Azriel and I…had a disagreement about Elain.” Azriel just stared at Rhys blankly. Seriously, that was the best Rhys could come up with? That’s what he wanted to go with?!

"A disagreement?" Cassian asked, brows raised. "What kind of disagreement? A 'we came to an agreement' kind of disagreement, or a 'we punched each other in the face' disagreement?"

“A ‘Rhys sticks his nose into things that are none of his business’ disagreement,” Azriel gave back drily.

“Excuse me, you were going to kiss ELain while her mate was under the same roof two years ago. Did you ever even consider the political ramifications of that?” Rhys snapped. “For gods sake, Azriel!”

Azriel's jaw clenched at Rhys's words, his temper flaring even as he tried to maintain a neutral expression. "You think I didn't consider the consequences? Of course, I did," he hissed, his voice dangerously low. "But feelings aren't logical, Rhys. We don't choose who we fall for, and it's not as simple as calculating political ramifications."

“I told Azriel to keep away from Elain. She fell for Lucien. He’s still moping about it and giving me the fault,” Rhys said flatly. “Out of pure interest, how much longer do you want to keep up with that, Az?”

Azriel couldn’t help the laugh that burst out od his mouth at that.

“You didn’t just fucking tell me to keep away from her. You told me and I quote ‘If you need to fuck somebody go to a pleasure hall and pay for it’,” Azriel repeated viciously.

"And I stand by that," Rhys snapped. "The last thing we need is for you to pine over someone who has made it clear where she stands. Elain has her mate, and she doesn't return your feelings. She’s married for gods’ sake!”

“Whoa!” Cassian cut them off. “What the fuck, Rhys?!”

"What?" Rhys demanded, glaring at Cassian.

Cassian gave him an incredulous look. "You told Azriel to go to a pleasure hall? Seriously?"

"I was trying to be helpful," Rhys said, his jaw clenching.

"Helpful?" Cassian asked incrediously. "Helpful would have been to be a little more understanding towards your brother's feelings. He does have them, you know,” Cassian said sarcastically. 

"I know that," Rhys snapped. "But he needs to move on. It's not healthy to keep pining after someone who doesn't return his feelings."

“Where was this opinion for the 500 years of me pining after Mor?” Azriel snapped. 

Rhys's expression darkened. "Don't do that, Azriel. Don't bring Mor into this. She's not relevant to this discussion."

”Not relevant?” Azriel gave back with a laugh. “I think she’s very relevant. You don’t trust me to act like an adult about my feelings. You ordered me to behave like I am some kind of rabid dog. More than once, more than twice. Constantly. Like I would ever do anything to put Mor and Emerie’s relationship into jeopardy. Don’t worry, High Lord. I’ll behave. I’ll leave Mor and Elain alone. .”

Rhys ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear. "This is not about Mor, Azriel. This is about keeping the peace within our Inner Circle. Elain has her own life and her own happiness to think about. Interfering could only bring pain, not just for you, but for everyone involved. That’s why I ordered you to keep your distance. Not because I don’t trust your feelings or your actions, but because sometimes even the best intentions can have unintended consequences."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Don't give me any of your high and mighty bullshit, Rhysand. You don’t think I am good enough for Mor, and you certainly don't think I am good enough for Elain. But don’t worry, I'll keep my distance, as ordered. I wouldn't want to risk upsetting your perfect little court or ruining your plans for peace. Just tell me who else is off limits, so I know who else I'm not good enough for. Maybe Gwyn? Because remember, ‘don’t you dare to pressure her’?"

Rhys sighed, his gaze softening slightly. "Azriel, it's not about who you're 'good enough' for and who you aren't. It's about respecting people's choices and boundaries. Elain has made her choice in Lucien, and I just want to protect her and the peace we've worked so hard to maintain. And no, nobody else is off limits. You're free to…'seek your entertainment' as you please."

His entertainment. 

Right. 

Azriel snorted, the sound full of derision. “It warms my heart that you give me that permission,” Azriel said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Rhys rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by Azriel's reaction. "I'm not trying to 'give you permission,' Azriel," he said firmly. "I'm just trying to make sure you understand why I'm asking you to behave. I care about you and our inner circle. You're my brother, but I also care about Elain and her happiness. I don't want to see anyone get hurt."

“Have I done anything, anything at all that put her happiness in jeopardy?” Azriel asked, his voices harsh. “I kept away as you ordered. I fucking saved Lucien’s life, so she could be happy.”

"You haven't done anything wrong," Rhys acknowledged, his tone softening. "You've been a better friend to Elain than anyone could have asked. You saved Luicen because you are a good person, not just for Elain's sake. But I still think it’s best if you keep your distance. Not just for her, but for yourself too. Dwelling on feelings that can’t be returned will only bring you pain."

“For cauldron’s sake, Rhys,” Cassian said with a sigh.

Rhys turned his attention to him, the exasperation clear in his eyes. "What, Cassian?" he asked, his tone weary.

Cassian rubbed a hand over his jaw, shaking his head. "You’re so hell bent on keeping the peace you forget that the people in your court have feelings too," he said. "Azriel isn’t some emotionless soldier doing your bidding. He has feelings and desires, just like everyone else. And sometimes it’s not as simple as just moving on."

"I know that," Rhys said, running a hand through his hair. "But sometimes we have to put our own feelings aside for the greater good. As a High Lord, I have to think about the impact my actions could have on others. I'm not trying to shut down Azriel's feelings. I'm just trying to protect him from potential pain.”

“Yeah you did a shitty job at that,” Cassian said drily. “You could have told Mor hundred of years ago to have a conversation with him. You didn’t. But Azriel is supposed to tread carefully not to make her or Emerie uncomfortable. Azriel is supposed to behave?”

Rhys's eyes flashed in anger. "I know I've made mistakes, Cassian. I should have handled things differently with Mor and Azriel. But I can't change the past. All I can do is try to make the best decisions for everyone involved right now."

“You don’t even fucking realise how much of a self important hypocritical asshole you are, do you?” Azriel asked flatly. “It’s okay for you to pursue an engaged female that’s engaged to another High Lord, damn the consequences. But the rest of us…we are told to behave.”

Rhys bristled at Azriel’s words, his own temper threatening to flare. "That's different, Azriel," he said, his voice sharp. "That’s different and you know it. You would understand if you had a…” he hesitated.

"If I had a what?" Azriel prompted sharply.

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, his fingers clenching around his mug. "A mate."

“Rhys,” Cassian said carefully.

"What?" Rhys snapped, his temper still simmering just below the surface. “He doesn’t have a mate, he doesn’t fucking understand it.”

Aaaaaand…. Azriel was done.

So fucking done. 

“Where are you going?” Rhys demanded as he stood up.

“Home,” Azriel said flatly. “You have my gifts, hand them out. Wish Feyre a Happy Birthday, will you? I’ll be back to do your bidding in about 3 days, High Lord.” 

“I highly doubt that your mother will enjoy your impromptu appearance at Rosehall,” Rhys said. Azriel’s hand twitched towards Truthteller. “Let’s just…”

“Rhysand!” Cassian snapped.

“What?” Rhys asked. 

“I have talked to my mother once since the Sealing of Velaris was lifted,” Azriel said tightly. “One conversation where she told me that she found a new family and that I should keep away from her. So no, Rhys. I am not going to Rosehall.”

Rhys looked utterly shell-shocked by Azriel’s revelation. "Azriel, I..." he started, but Azriel simply shook his head.

"Don't," he said. "Just don't." He didn’t wnat to talk about it. He never wanted to talk about that. His mother could do whatever she wanted. he would leave her alone, just as requested. But he was not going to talk about it. 

“Then I am coming with you. You are not spending Winter Solstice alone brooding at the House of Wind,” Cassian said quickly, standing. 

“I am not going to the House of Wind either.” Azriel answered flatly. “I am going home to my house and I won’t be alone either.”

"What do you mean you won't be alone?" Rhys asked sharply.

Azriel just snorted, “My mate will be there,” he said simply. “She’s better company than any of you.”

“Your...your mate?” Rhys repeated, his eyes widening.

Cassian gaped at Azriel. "Your mate? Why didn’t you tell us? Who is she?"

“Why should I tell you? ” Azriel gave back his voice icy. “I may trust you with this court, Rhysand, but I do not trust you with anything I love. Not anymore.”

[ultralightpoe]

Sticky - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Yeah the fandom is EATING with this song and that trailer so I figured I might as well feed into my own obsessions. -Ultralight

Song Inspo - Sticky from Tyler The Creator

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: Fighting, reference to smexy times

Requests: OPEN [working on the first round now]

MAIN MASTER LIST

[Thank you for the gif @unearthlydust ]

Enjoy!

It’s the bitter laugh that no one wants to hear, that’s the moment when the realization begins setting in. The chill down his spine, locking in the fear as the cold sweat begins to form, knuckles tightening around his glass of whiskey. 

The room wasn’t cold, with the fire crackling just a few feet away, so there wasn’t really a reason for him to be shivering. But that cold embrace of fear was wrapping Declan Morarie like a blanket. He was a man coming to the realization he was about to die. 

It was Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, sat at the end of the long table she hadn’t been invited to, in a home she hadn’t been welcome in but still sat in nevertheless. In the beginning of Declans career he always wondered how people remembered her full name, but watching the women now he understood. She was completely untouchable. 

“Oh come on now,” She teases, clapping her hands together in excitement as that same bitter laugh passes her lips. “I’m excited for the show.” 

“You think this is funny?” He bites out.

“Well from my seat I think it’s pretty great. I, however, would never want to be the one getting hunted down by Bucky Barnes and his fucking wife.” She chuckles, pulling a piece of lint off her dress. 

“And how….” He has to take a breath in to compose himself, slamming the glass on the table before him. “How did they get to me?”

“You tortured her for years, your very own project….. Well her and 20 others. Honestly it was only a matter of time before they tracked you down.” She explains, standing up and walking herself to the bartop. 

“And you didn’t happen to put my name in their ear?”

“Barnes will be my problem….. On another day.” She nods, pouring herself a shot and turning to him to cheers before downing it. “But today, he’s yours.” 

She slams the glass down until it splatters across the entire floor, her heels crunching into it as she waltzes to grab her coat. “I do apologize old friend, and I am….. Hopeful? Yes, that seems like a decent word, I’m hopeful you will succeed surviving.”

“I will.” He sneers, but even the words fall flat.

“Oh I’m sure you will.” She laughs, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Though I do hear things get a bit sticky when those two decide they want someone dead.”

- 

“Who would have thought that this… hunting down the bad guys of the world could be soooo… hmmm.” You tilt your chin up in a quiet contemplation as your husband frets over your suit. He busies himself with checking all the safety measures you both had designed for the suits when you decided they would be worn again. 

“Tiring.”

“Cathartic,” You hum back, sliding your hands down to snatch onto his own and bring them up so he can stop fretting. “You’re grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“You are.” You argue, kissing the knuckles of his metal hand before doing the same to his flesh hand. “You didn’t get much sleep and now you’re tired and grumpy. I don’t like when you do this grumpy.”

“No more with the word grumpy. You have overused it.” He huffs, leaning to kiss your forehead. 

“Fine, ill-tempered.”

“Hardly,”

“Testy.” 

“Not even close.”

“Crotchety.”

“Really? We’re going that far?”

“Hmmmm. Waspish. How about that?”

“I….. will allow it if it means we can just get this over with.” He kisses around your face, using his metal hand to tilt your face for easier access while you fight off a smile and push him back. 

“You know what to do.”

“Straight to business then.” And though he turns his back to you he keeps you close while using the tech pad to monitor the halls of the building you both were about to enter. 

“He doubled up on guards. Someone warned him.” He analyzes, shifting a bit to show you the footage. “Valentina.”

“Hmmm.” You choose not to actually respond, allowing your husband to work through his own anger and suspicion while you watch the guards to begin learning the patterns. 

“You don’t believe me.”

“I believe you.” You defend, passing the tech back. “But I don’t want you getting ahead of yourself. That is a hunt for another day.” 

“You ready?”

“Of course.” And it’s easy, the way you two fall to the plan so naturally, having worked together for years now. He lets you pass by him, his flesh hand catching a strand of your hair as you strut past, casting him one more glance before disappearing to find your entrance. 

Once you are at your mark you place the comm in, tapping it twice to make sure it works as you begin slicing the door with the silent laser. 

“Placed?” Bucky asks after a moment, meaning he had made it to his own mark. 

“You know it.” You mutter, pushing the door open in the small place you had cut before easily sliding in, your feet near silent on the ground as you watch the hall and begin trekking through. 

Moving like a shadow should never have been this easy, and yet it was, all thanks to the man you were here to kill. 

“будь в безопасности.” He mutters in your ear, his voice a soft caress in the first moment you hear steps approaching. ‘Be Safe’, his favorite thing to say since he knew you didn’t need luck. 

“être en sécurité,” You repeat his saying back to him, this time in french just to bother him since he could never speak it fluently. 

And then you finally meet the person walking closer, but before he can even prepare himself you are already sliding across the floor to kick out his legs before you swipe the overly large gun from his hip and knock him out with it, sliding on your knees to face forward with the stolen gun and raise yourself back to your feet. 

Each movement is a simple glide, one in front of the other as you trace the hall for movement. The plan was simple, meet in the middle and make your way up. You just had to shut down all the exits first. 

You started with the elevators, opening the first and shooting the controls until the light within it flickers and marking it useless and moving to the second one. When the doors slide open a guard moves to rush out, and you use his outstretched arm to heft him over your shoulder until you are throwing him to the floor and twisting until you hear a snap. 

“Sorry.” You whisper, kicking him away as you hear Bucky grunt within the comms as he finds his own issues. You mimic the movements you had used on the other elevator before rushing to the front entrance and using their own night time security gates against them. Locking anyone from leaving and keeping anyone from entering. 

And now that you were finished with that you began you started your way to meet your husband. 

It only took 15 minutes and by the time you do find him he’s leaning on the wall like nothing else mattered, tilting his metal hand under the light above him to admire the etching done for your wedding. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” You murmur, your tone seductive as you lean next to him. “What’s a place like this doing in a guy like you? …….Wait, don’t I have that backward?” 

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m sure we’ll find a lot of things backwards.”

“Oh,” You blink, staring at him. “I honestly can’t tell if that was sexual or a threat.”

“Then why can I practically hear your heart beating through your chest?”

“I never said I wouldn’t like it as either.” You huff, turning on your toes and signaling him to follow you. “You’re very beguiling.”

“Another big word. Should I be worried?”

“You got me the dictionary. Which I was slightly offended by.” You huff, twisting your body up the stairs as you see a figure in the corner of your vision, working with grace to pull him down and over the railing. “Stop flirting with me Barnes.”

“You stop flirting with me, Barnes.” He snaps back, making sure that guard stays down before using his gun and following you as back up. “Almost there.”

“Noted.” You murmur, shooting the tech pad to enter the door from the stairwell. The second the door swings open there are guards swarming you both, but it is lightwork when you both work together. 

The man that went to punch you met Bucky's metal fist before he could even make contact, the knife that almost hits Bucky’s mid section is easily lost the second you kick the wrist holding it. Like a bloody tango, every motion has a repercussion. 

“Любовь [love],” You huff, spinning to take out two men while facing Bucky. He reads your idea the second you make eye contact, allowing you to use his thigh as a stepping stool and throw one leg over his shoulder. 

He shoots the men in front of you both as he makes his way down the hall, you taking out the men coming up to flank you. 

By the time you reach the double doors holding the enemy within,  you swing off his shoulder with ease before an unknown figure rushes you both. 

You are thrown back, back meeting the floor as you slide while Bucky is thrown into the wall. 

“What the…..” He starts. 

“Fuck.” You finish, upon seeing who just hit you both. 

He was tall, with red eyes and a sneer on his face, yet another over drugged super soldier. 

Bucky is the first to regain himself, standing quickly and pushing himself into the soldier to knock the weight off and send him down. Only he pushes back, both men stuck in the hold, so you launch up. 

Your hands hit your husbands shoulders and you vault over him to lock your thighs around the neck of the soldier and twisting your body to send him flying back with you. 

Unlike you, however, he doesn’t manage to catch himself and falls on his back. Bucky is there, foot on his neck as you pull the gun and finish him off before moving to kick in the door and find Declan Morarie.

He doesn’t say anything, merely turning to the door with a bottle in hand as he staggers for balance. 

“Fuck.” 

“Fuck.” Bucky mocks, giving you a look before you both rush at him. 

-

“I think you need to go to bed.” You huff, watching your husband pull out the paperwork the second you both got home, after dropping your duffel bags by the doors. “No work.”

“I need to review her bills, she’s hiding something in plain sight-” His conspiracy theories about Valentina were interrupted by you slipping your shirt off and throwing it at him. 

“A hunt for another day then.” He amends, following you into the bedroom as quickly as he can.

[confiaenanaa]

Can I request an angsty one where the reader and Marshall/Em/Slim (whichever you prefer) they have an argument and at one point he tells her he doesn't need her, he can have whoever he wants and they won't complain about anything like she does. And obviously she feels hurt bc it's always been an insecurity of hers that he could have anyone. And he just confirmed her fear. Hopefully with a happy ending tho🙏🏻❤️ please and thank you! Sorry it's so long lol.

needed - eminem

fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Marshall says he doesn't need her, but what does he do when he doesn't have her?

warnings: cursing, drinking

A/N: loved this request! very fun to write. if you guys want anything written, my asks are open. hope you enjoy!

-Fuck you! 

-Oh, piss off!

Shouts could be heard from the Mathers residence that night. Y/N and Marshall were arguing over something stupid, again. They seemed to be having these arguments more and more often these days. This time, however, they were arguing over Marshall’s lack of communication. He’d have a bad day, be rude to Y/N, and when she’d ask what was wrong he’d blow up at her without telling her what bothered him. Today it seemed like he’d had an extra bad day. 

…

He got home from the studio later than usual. Y/N was reasonably worried, and when she called, he wouldn’t answer. So, once he got home, she asked him a ton of questions; questions like “where were you?” “what happened?” “are you alright?”. This angered him to no end since he hates explaining himself to people.

He refused to answer questions. Y/N knew he’d probably just had a rough day so she decided to make him his favorite home-cooked meal and some hot cocoa and treat him to a lovely night at home. But, when she brought him his food and drink, he just told her he wasn’t hungry, even after seeing all the effort she was putting in for him. 

That’s when something inside of her just snapped. She set the plate and mug on the table fecklessly, spilling some cocoa in the process. Marshall seemed a bit startled, knowing Y/N doesn’t usually throw fits like this and she usually keeps her temper in check. 

-God, Marsh! Would it kill you to at least give me a thank you? I’ve tried so hard to find out what’s wrong, and you won’t tell me! What happened to me being your #1 and your best friend? And come on! Look at this meal I made for you! Can’t you see how badly I want you to let me help you? 

-Fuck! I’m sorry I’m not living up to your boyfriend standards, Y/N! But, clearly, I had a rough day so just drop it! 

-You know what Marshall? I have bad days too! But you don’t see me bitching about it and acting like a little kid every time something doesn’t go my way! And even when I do feel upset, I tell you what’s wrong! Because I actually care about your feelings and I wouldn’t want you to worry!

- Oh, so, now I don’t care?! All I ever do is care about you Y/N! I write songs about you, I buy you everything you look at to make you happy, not to mention I make you feel pretty damn good!

- It’s not about that Marsh! God, are you even listening to me?! I don’t care that you’re upset, or that you’re in a bad mood or feeling mean; I just want you to tell me! I want you to communicate with me! I want us to work through our problems calmly, without me having to shout to get your attention!

-You always say that, but you never actually do it! Whenever you’re upset you just stay quiet! So don’t go telling me how to deal with my problems because you sure as hell don’t know how to deal with yours!

-Fuck you!

-Oh, piss off!

-Fuck, Marsh! This isn’t about me! We can work through what I do, but you seriously need to stop! 

-Stop it, Y/N! Stop already! If everything I do is so terrible and wrong, then why not just break up with me already? 

-Because I love you! I care so much about you and I just wish you could see it.

-You’re just saying that because you know I don’t need your ass. You know I can get with whoever the hell I want and they won't criticize me or complain about everything I do half as much as you do!

Y/N stayed silent for a bit. Her heart dropped and she could feel the lump develop in her throat. All this time she was with Marshall, she’d had her insecurities. But, he helped her work through them slowly. He helped her make sure she knew he’d never hurt her like that.

But, now, all that hard work was out the window. With those simple words. The tears began to prick her eyes and she looked down at the floor to try and conceal it. She felt like a little girl being yelled at. She felt helpless, and small. The man who was supposed to love her the most, to protect her, had failed her. He made her feel alone.

Marshall instantly felt a wave of regret wash over him. He felt it surge from his mind up to the tips of his ears down to the points of his toes. He looked at the girl he loves, knowing how badly he just hurt her. He opened his mouth to apologize, knowing he’d gone too far and he didn’t mean it; but, before he could, she had walked past him and into their bedroom. He quickly turned on his heels to follow her. 

Y/N was grabbing a few of her things: a hoodie, her phone charger, some gum, her earbuds, and some shoes. He once again tried to apologize but she wouldn’t hear it. He followed her all the way down to the garage and watched as she hopped in her car and sped off. He wasn’t sure where she was going, and, to be honest, neither was she. 

She hated herself for complaining and she hated him for being so mean to her. But, deep down, she knew she loved him more than anything and everything. She gripped her steering wheel harder, and turned up the volume of the song she was listening to. 

She pulled into the parking lot for some random bar she heard of from one of her friends. Her friend said it was the best place to go if you’re feeling sad or having a rough night. 

When she walked in, the bar looked exactly how she felt. It was dimly lit, the smell reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. There were barely enough people to call a crown in there, all sitting far apart with a drink in hand. Everyone looked glum in there, so she’d blend right in. She sat at the bar and ordered herself a few shots of rum. She downed them quickly, not feeling much different. She then ordered herself a vodka, which she kept refilling until the bartender just gave her the bottle. 

She kept feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. She assumed it was Marshall. She didn’t really want to respond, but she still looked, just in case. It was actually a text from her best friend asking what happened. Of course. Marshall texted her friend to see if Y/N was okay (since she usually goes to her best friend in times of need). Y/N decided not to answer, she was in more of a “fuck the world” kind of mood.

She set her phone down on the counter, finally feeling the effects of the alcohol. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get home or if she was going to get home at all. Before she could continue that thought, she saw a series of texts, making her phone buzz repeatedly. 

The contact name read “marsh :)”. She truly didn’t want to speak to him at the moment. She wasn’t sure why what he said affected her this way, but it did, and he knew that. She knew she was probably just being sensitive, but she couldn’t help but feel attacked. 

She looked at her phone again and saw Marshall’s concerned text chain.

“hello?”

“babyyy??”

“look baby i’m so sorry i know i messed up big time. please call me back so i can fix this.”

She didn’t bother reading the rest. She got more texts from him and her best friend. They seemed really concerned now. It was unlike Y/N, not answering the phone. It was cold, far too cold for someone of her character. However, Y/N wasn’t in the mood or the headspace to care about her character. She was too busy trying to keep her head upright as her vision blurred a bit from the effects of the white russian she was creating in her stomach at the moment. From that point forward, she couldn’t really recollect anything that had happened. The next thing she knew, she felt a pair of strong arms lifting her up by the waist and into their arms bridal-style. 

…

The next day, Y/N woke up in her bed alongside a snoring Marshall that had his arms wrapped around her tightly. She slowly shimmied out of his embrace, head beginning to pound when she stood up. She went downstairs and sat at the kitchen table with a small tonic for hangovers in hand. 

As she was washing the cup she was just using, Y/N heard a set of booming footsteps as they pounded against the wooden staircase. She turned around to look at Marshall. He looked incredible. His hair was a bit tousled and his eyes and lips were puffy. He came down and approached her without a second thought. The first thing he did was put his lips against hers. The kiss was warm, brilliant. 

Y/N crumpled under his touch. He pulled back and smiled slightly at her. His heart grew seeing her in front of him. He smiled even wider when he saw her smile back; however, he knew he wasn’t forgiven just yet. 

-Wait, look, I gotcha something.

He quickly walked into the living room and grabbed a small box and turned to the kitchen.

-I bought this a while ago. I wanted to give it to you somewhere better but this seemed like the right time.

Y/N opened the little box gingerly, a little nervous to see its contents. Her jaw dropped a tad when she saw it. 

A small ring, diamond encrusted and the exact type of metal she wears. It was perfectly tailored to her tastes. She looked up at him, eyebrow slightly raised.

-It’s a promise ring. I know what I said last night was fucked up but I didn’t mean it at all. I love you more than anything and you know that. I could never be with anyone else knowing that you’re out there in the world. 

He took the ring out of the box and secured it onto her finger. He then kissed her hand softly. She smiled taking in the view.

Then, she knew, more than anything, that she was truly loved.

[redrose10]

This was a request for fake dating with Jungkook and prompt #40 I think I have always been in love with you for @yoongznme. I hope you like it!

< Lemonade >

Warnings: Hints of body insecurities

#40 “I think, I have always been in love with you.”

*******************************************************

“I’m sorry what?”, you asked them to repeat themselves for the third time still not believing what you were hearing. When your boss asked to have a word with you about a promotion you thought it would include a few extra responsibilities and hopefully a much needed raise because being a makeup artist for an award winning kpop group did not really pay as well as you’d think.

You never expected to be told that you would be pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend though. It was some crazy plan that the company’s PR team came up with after he had recently gotten some bad press over something dumb and out of his control but at the end of the day it was still bad press effecting numbers which effected profit.

They thought that it would be a good idea to make it look like he was a loving, sweet, devoted boyfriend who could do no wrong. Somehow or another your name got thrown in the mix because you yourself were nice, polite, and you had this kind of the good girl next door thing that they were looking for.

You were nervous to say the least. Jungkook was attractive, no one would deny that. He was also always very kind and thoughtful when you interacted and you definitely had a small crush on him but you were a professional and knew not to let your emotions get in the way of your work plus there’s no way a global superstar would ever actually want to date a struggling makeup artist.

However you agreed, though you had the suspicion you really didn’t have a choice anyways if you wanted to stay employed, and they told you to be back at the building tomorrow night at 8pm.

So you did just that. You were in the dress one of the stylist left for you and you’d done your makeup and hair. Jungkook was styled perfectly as usual and he smelled so warm and comforting as he gave you a hug, “You look really nice Y/N.”

“Thank you.”, you whispered hoping he couldn’t see you blush.

The plan was to drive over to a very well known hotspot for dinner. Idols frequented the place constantly so there was also a stream of paparazzi and fans trying to catch a glimpse.

When you arrived the amount of people shocked you. As soon as Jungkook appeared there were earth shattering screams and so many flashes of light you couldn’t see a foot in front of you.

“Y/N, just stay close behind me.”, he said taking your hand and helping you out of the car while making sure to block the view of the cameras so you could get out comfortably in your dress.

Once you were in view the screams got even louder although maybe angrier. The camera flashes definitely increased though giving you a headache. The bodyguards began to push through the crowd with Jungkook close behind, his hand tightly gripping yours as you tried to keep up.

Inside, the restaurant was significantly calmer which you appreciated. Jungkook sipped on his beer while you stuck to a lemonade.

“I’m sorry the company is making you go through this.”, he said finally after a bout of silence.

“It’s okay. They’re paying me quite a bit so it’s worth it.”, you chuckled not noticing the slight grimace on his face.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. Jungkook was a great guest and you relaxed enjoyed hearing about his travels and all the funny stories he had, especially the one about Yoongi tripping and falling face first into a cake that Namjoon had decided to leave sitting on the living room floor for some strange reason. He showed you a picture of Yoongi’s face covered in frosting and you couldn’t wait to tease him about it when you saw him next.

After dinner the crowd outside had died down a little bit was still enough that you had to put on an act. Jungkook pulled you close against him as he took you outside and right into the waiting vehicle where he continued to hold you against him even as the car sped off. It sent a wave of emotions through you so you made sure to create a little bit of space between you both just to remind yourself that none of this was real.

It looked like the plan was working perfectly because the next morning there were several headlines questioning who was the cute woman Jungkook was photographed with last night. The fans were also loosing their minds over it, posting over and over about speculations and rumors. You did your best to try and avoid most of them because while a good chunk were generally in favor of the relationship there were still many, mostly fans, that were not happy about Jungkook possibly being in a relationship. This resulted in you seeing some hurtful words about yourself m before deciding to log out of all of your social medias.

The next several weeks were filled with much of the same. Various stages photo ops took place so that fans and photographers could catch moments between you both. When the rumors finally started to become out of hand the company released an official statement confirming the relationship between Jungkook and you, a sweet, down to earth makeup artist that he had fallen madly in love with. The media and fans lost their minds.

You went into this whole thing thinking it would be easy. You were getting a big payday to basically hangout with Jungkook and let your photo get taken. You didn’t expect for your crush to grow into being full on in love with him but it was hard not to fall. He was so incredibly thoughtful and sweet. He was always ordering you lunch or bringing you a coffee even when the cameras weren’t around. When your cat needed an unexpected emergency surgery he paid for it in full after overhearing you cry to one of your friends about how you couldn’t afford it. He was always telling you how pretty you looked or complimenting your clothes with a slight hint of a blush on his cheeks. When you were visiting a friend and missed the last bus and you called him as a last resort hoping he could ask the company to send a car he drove over an hour at 2am to personally pick you up himself while staying on the phone with you the whole time so that you wouldn’t be scared.

After a few months of this it was getting harder and harder to remind yourself this wasn’t real.

Up until this point things were going great. Your relationship was doing exactly what the PR team had hoped. People pretty much completely forgot about his previous scandal and were focused on how he was a sweet and generous boyfriend. His image had never been better.

Then there was an incident. Jungkook was very protective always keeping you close to him. Even when the bodyguards reminded him that they were there for your protection as well he still insisted on personally seeing to your safety.

So one morning you were set to board a flight to New York. Of course the entrance to the air port was packed full of paparazzi and fans all screaming and trying to get photos and videos of you two. The airport had put up barriers but with the amount of people all pushing and shoving some of the barriers got knocked down allowing the crowd to surge in.

Security did their best to surround you guys and get you through the crowd but they were greatly outnumbered.

Thanks to the loud noises and flashing lights and amount of people surrounding you it all became too much and you began to panic. You held onto Jungkook, squeezing his hand that was interlocked with yours to try and ground yourself and remind yourself that you were okay.

“It’s okay Y/N. I’ve got you. We’ll get through this.”, he said trying to comfort you.

The crowd surged forward again. Thanks to your blurry vision and panic you aren’t sure exactly what happened but somehow you tripped ending up on the floor. You were trying to get up fast before you got trampled on but you kept getting pushed and shoved down until you felt someone grab your waist and pull you up. Instantly you recognized the familiar cologne and tucked your face into Jungkook’s shoulder as he quickly pulled you through the rest of the airport.

On the plane where it was quiet and safe you started full on crying. You felt so silly but you couldn’t hold it in any more.The fear and anxiety became too much.

Jungkook came over handing you a bottle of water and some ice for your bruised knee. He rubbed soothing circles on your back as the plane took off, “It’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.”

“It’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”, you whispered starting to feel a little better.

After a while you managed to fall asleep and take a small nap. When you woke up Jungkook was still sitting next to you. He was staring intently at your face.

“Stop looking at me. I’m always so ugly when I wake up.”, you chuckled feeling much better than earlier.

“Impossible. You are never ugly Y/N.”, he whispered.

He was fidgeting with his shoe lace. Something you had picked up on being a nervous habit of his.

“Hey Kook, is there something on your mind?”, you asked.

He waited a moment before nodding, “When we get back from New York I’m going to tell the company that we need to end this fake dating thing. I can’t do it any more.”

You felt like you wanted to cry again but you swallowed it down because maybe he thought you were too weak or why would he want to be with the girl who tripped an embarrassed herself and himself, “O-Okay. It’s up to you.”

“I just…I’m so selfish”, he chuckled, “I’m not going to keep putting you in danger though. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you Y/N, especially if it was my fault. What happened back at the airport…that was a wake up call. I’m sorry I ever suggested this.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion., “What do you mean you suggested this?” You were under the impression this was all the companys PR team but now it seems like he had a part of it.

His cheeks turned a bright red before he ran a hand through his already messy hair, “Well I guess I might as well come clean now.”, he turned his body to look at you fully, “Y/N when the company suggested this fake dating thing I was against it at first. But then…then I thought maybe I could use it as an excuse to spend more time with you. I’ve always thought you were really cute and sweet and kind and I had a bit of a crush on you. So I convinced them to get you to be the woman I fake dated. I was too shy to ask you to hang out so I thought it was a way to spend time with you and get to know you better.”, he made eye contact with you for a brief moment and you could see the fear in them. He continued, “I think I have always been in love with you. I love you more and more every day.”, your heart was practically beating out of your chest at his confession. You tried to stop him but he continued, “And that’s why we have to end this. I don’t want you getting hurt because of me. You don’t deserve this.”

He looked as if he was about to cry and it made you want to just cuddle him and make everything go away. Instead you chose to grab his hand and hold it on your lap, “Jungkook I love you too. I have for quite a while. Honestly, I didn’t think you would ever see me like that so I thought this was all your company’s idea.”, his shoulders seemed to relax a little at your words so you went on, “I know that dating you comes with lots of hardships but I think the positives greatly outweigh those negatives and I don’t mind going through them. If…if you want to I would like to continue to date you, but maybe actually date and not fake date anymore.”, you chuckled.

That got a big smile out of him too which warmed your heart. “I would love to keep dating you Y/N.”, he nodded. You cuddled in closer to him spending the rest of the flight talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s presence.

When the plane landed he had already arranged for a car to pick you up straight from the tarmac so that you wouldn’t have to endure the stress of walking through the airport with him again.

When he finally made it out front and jumped into the car he smiled at seeing your face, “I missed you Y/N.”, he then leaned in and kissed you like it was nothing new. “You already got into the lemonade didn’t you.”, he chuckled after tasting it on your lips.

“Kook we were only separated for like ten minutes and of course I did. You know lemonade is my favorite.”, you giggled.

He leaned over and rested his head on your shoulder, “Doesn’t matter. It was ten minutes too long.”

You gave the top of his head a kiss as the car sped off to your new destination.

[hannieehaee]

Hey hey, just wanted to lyk, your writings are so good😭

Oh yes I've a request, something like them doing something out of their character

Thankyou<3

them doing something out of character for their s/o

content: established relationship implied, pure fluff, etc.

wc: 641

a/n: thank u so much!! hope u enjoy<3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he'll let himself be taken care of instead of the other way around. he knows you worry about him sometimes, so he'll try to put his stubbornness aside and follow your every instruction to let you take care of him.

jeonghan -

he always lets you win any games you play together or strategically makes bets with you that he knows you'll end up winning. he's very ingenious about it too, so you never realize it's actually all orchestrated by him.

joshua -

he's such a gym rat, but he doesnt mind skipping if you happen to be free at that time. it'd shock the guys when he suddenly disappears, opting to be with you rather than following his usually strict workout schedule.

jun -

he can be a little shy sometimes, but he'd become the ultimate extrovert for you. if you happen to be introverted or are just low in your social battery, he'll take charge and do all the talking necessary, being the one to order when you go on a date or dealing with any strangers.

soonyoung -

this sounds so silly, but he'd push the tiger agenda aside for you. not completely, of course! but if you wanted to decorate your shared home, he'd let the decisions fall onto you. want a vintage carpet instead of the old tiger print one he had at his dorm? he doesnt mind as long as he gets to share a home with you.

wonwoo -

he's super competitive when he plays video games but he'll always be teaching you how to play and letting you win when you agree to play with him. he's always merciless when he plays with his friends, but you make him break away from that.

jihoon -

he'll go out and explore the city with you. he's such a homebody and generally just prefers to stay home, but if you ask him, he'll never even consider denying you. it's far more enjoyable with you anyways.

seokmin -

he'll put aside the silliness sometimes. not because you'd ask (bc you'd never want him to be any different than he is) but because he wants to let himself enjoy you without any distractions. he'd want to shut his brain down and just be in love with you in the moment.

mingyu -

he's absolutely terrified of heights, but is willing to step out of his comfort zone for you. it'd be so out of character for him to go to amusement parks, hikes in very tall mountains, parachuting, but he'd just want to experience every little thing life has offer with you, he'd push that aside just for the unique experience with you.

minghao -

he prefers quiet atmospheres, always enjoying organization and tidiness in his surroundings. however, he'll provide you with the opposite any time you want. want to go to the pit of a loud concert? he's right there with you. a tall roller coaster where you'll be screaming into his ear? sure, as long as you're happy.

seungkwan -

despite always being the life of the party, if your social battery is ever low, he'll purposely try to match your energy. instead of going around and talking to friends, he'll stay in a little corner with you, preferring the quiet for once.

vernon -

he'll do all the talking. he's not one to talk too much, but if you're ever quieter than usual, he knows it's time for him to take charge and lead the conversation, understanding you'd rather just listen for now, as he usually does in return.

chan -

he's an insanely diligent worker. nothing ever comes before work for him. he'll sometimes be doing a solo project while working on two separate comebacks for the group. but as far as you're involved, he'll take a day off in between of the chaos if it means spending an extra five minutes with you.