#it makes me so happy to see them be so happy

[bookshelftreasures]

Jealous Shadows

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Azriel's shadows have always been loyal, always obeyed him without question. Until now. Until they start misbehaving whenever another man so much as looks at you.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,066

Notes: This is my first fic, I hope you like it! :)

~~~~~

The first time it happens, you don't think much of it.

You're at Rita's with the Inner Circle, nursing a drink at the bar while Cassian and Mor dance somewhere among the crowded space. The music thrums through the air, and the conversation hums around you when a male slides into an empty seat beside you.

"Didn't think someone like you would be sitting alone," he says, flashing a grin.

You don't even get the chance to respond before a flicker of something moves between you.

The male frowns, swiping at his hair, which has suddenly transformed from being neatly styled to sticking up in wild angles, as if an invisible force had run its hands through it... aggressively.

You blink in surprise.

He mutters a curse, trying to fix it, but the moment he smooths it down, the strands spring right back up. His frustration grows, hands swiping over his head repeatedly.

"I- what the hell?" he grumbles. "Is this air cursed or something?"

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting a laugh.

And then you feel it.

A cool, familiar brush against your wrist.

Slowly, you glance down—just in time to see a shadow curling around your fingers before slipping away.

Your stomach flips.

You don't even need to turn around to know exactly where Azriel is.

~~~~~

The second time it happens, it's harder to ignore.

You and Azriel are training in the House of Wing, and the session has drawn some attention—mainly from a visiting group of Illyrians who very clearly wanted to spar with you.

One in particular, a cocky warrior named DAIN, is relentless. He lingers, circling the ring as Azriel corrects your stance, his gloved hands light against your arms.

"You sure you don't want a real sparring partner, sweetheart?" Dain calls, grinning. "I promise I'll go easy on you."

Azriel stills.

His fingers tighten ever so slightly before he steps back, shadows slithering at his feet. "She's training," he says evenly, but there's an obvious warning beneath the words.

Dain chuckles. "Training is nice and all, but I'd be happy to teach her a few things myself."

Something cold coils around your ankles.

Before you can react, the shadows yank. Not hard. Just enough to make you stumble backwards, right into Azriel's chest.

Your breath catches.

His hands steady you, fingers gripping your waist for a fraction of a second before he forces himself to let you.

You glance up at him, about to ask whether or not that was intentional, but his jaw is tight, hazel eyes locked on Dain.

Azriel's shadows have started to shift.

Not the lazy, fluid movements they usually have—but sharp, possessive flickers that wrap around you. One curls over your shoulder, while another drapes across your wrist, looping around like a claim.

You shiver, pulse skittering.

Dain seems to notice, too. His smirk falters, his eyes flicking between you and the swirling darkness. "Uh-"

The shadows snap toward him.

Not touching—just close. Close enough to make him step back.

You swear you hear them hiss.

Dain swallows hard. "Right. I, uh, should probably-"

Azriel doesn't blink. Doesn't move.

Dain takes the hint. He all but scrambles away, muttering under his breath.

And just like that, the shadows slip away, leaving you cold.

You whip around, crossing your arms. "What was that about?"

Azriel frowns, too casual. "What was what?"

"Oh, I don't know," you say dryly. "Maybe terrorizing a man into running for his life?"

His brow furrows, like he truly doesn't know what you're talking about. "I didn't do anything."

You narrow your eyes. Then one last shadow curls around your wrist before darting away like a child caught misbehaving.

Azriel glares at it.

Your lips part. "You have got to be kidding me."

His expression darkens as more shadows flick around you, playful now.

Azriel sighs. Pinches the bridge of his nose. "They don't usually-"

"Get jealous?" You finish for him, holding back a smile.

Silence.

His throat bobs.

And then—quietly, almost too quiet—you hear his shadows whisper something.

A name.

Your name.

And you realize—maybe it's not just his shadows who are jealous.

Your breath hitches. Azriel's wings rustle. And he looks like he's about to bolt.

Which is just unacceptable.

You cross your arms, tilting your head back to study him. "You know, I think your shadows like me more than they like you."

Azriel exhales sharply. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" You smirk, glancing down as a shadow curl lazily around your wrist. You give it a little wiggle, and the shadow clings tighter.

Azriel scowls at it. "Traitor."

A laugh bubbles out of you. You can't help it.

The great and terrifying Shadowsinger, bested by his own shadows.

"Oh, this is too good," you say, beaming up at him. "All this time, and they've secretly been on my side."

Azriel mutters something that sounds suspiciously like a curse. His wings twitch again. His shadows flick in annoyance—except the ones still clinging to you, moving to curl around your waist like they never want to let go.

You bite back a grin. "I mean, it makes sense." You gesture vaguely at them. "They probably just think I'd be a much better master."

Azriel gives you a deadpan stare. "That's not how this works."

"I don't know," you hum, pretending to consider it. "They seem pretty happy right now."

As if to prove your point, one shadow playfully loops around your fingers.

Azriel glowers. "You're encouraging them."

You give him an innocent smile. "Would I do that?"

He sighs, but you catch it—the way the corner of his mouth twitches. The way his gaze softens, just a little.

And then, so softly you almost miss it, he murmurs, "They have good taste, at least."

Your breath catches.

Your teasing falters for half a second before you recover. "So, you admit they like me more?"

Azriel exhales, shaking his head. "You're impossible."

You grin. "And you love it."

He doesn't answer. But the way his shadows linger—curling, warm, content—tells you everything you need to know.

~~~~~

Cassian walks in moments later, takes one look at Azriel's shadows practically cuddling you, and immediately points.

"I knew it!" He boasts.

Azriel pinches the bridge of his nose. His shadows flick toward Cassian, clearly unimpressed.

And you?

You just laugh.

Because really—Azriel might deny it all he wants, but his shadows?

They don't lie.

[okwonyo]

日语─── BEST PART ❜

RIPIRDENRE ੭୧ 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾.

husband!enhypen & wife!reader 8OO non-idol au fluff established relationship 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏｡ mention of kissing

지아 ⠀⦂⠀credit to my amazing girlfriend kimibae for the idea ><

✶ rbs&feedbacks！ DAILY ˊᯅˋ archive

HEESEUNG it happens when he is talking to his colleagues— his phone rings inside of his pocket and, as if it was a national instinct, he takes it immediately. he doesn’t hesitate much before accepting the call when your name appears, leaving his colleagues hanging. “yes, baby?” he answers, in the softest tone anyone has witnessed him use before. it’s something he only does with you, picking up the phone no matter what. no matter where he is or what he is doing, if you call, you can be sure that he will always answer. his abrupt disappearance makes the people he was talking to a tad bit confused. they ask him who he was talking to as soon as he comes back. “who?” he smiles. “i was talking to my wife.”

JAY “what are you doing here, princess?” he smiles gently, resting his back on his chair’s backseat— getting comfortable as soon as he sees you. with a happy expression on your face, you walk toward your husband. you hold the lunchbox in your hands in a way that makes his heart swell, with such love and care that he might melt. “you forget your lunch at home, so i bought it to you.” he lets you settle yourself on his laps as you talk, “am i bothering you?” and he can’t tell you that he left his lunchbox on purpose, just to see you. “no, i love your visits.” so, it’s never really confirmed or said out loud (until a work party), but the way he looks at you, the shining ring on his finger says it all.

JAKE there isn’t a day where he stays quiet— he is always bringing your name up somehow. in every conversation he has, no matter how brief they can be, you will always get mentioned at some point of it. therefore, he is the first to find it a bit surprising when people find out that is married to you, several months after the wedding happened. people ask him with wide eyes about what he means by ‘my wife’ and he looks at them with the exact same expression. “well, i am married?” he answers, as if it was obvious. to his defense, he really thought it was. to his words, he adds the action of showing off his ring when he speak again, “i have a wife, i talk about her all the time. do you even listen to me?”

SUNGHOON doesn’t talk about you much. although, you are on his mind from the moment he wakes up to when he closes his eyes at night— he likes to protect his privacy at all costs. however, when he gets married, he assumes that everyone already knows about it. the ring on his finger accompanied by your picture on his desk makes it quite obvious (he even catches himself staring at either of them quite often). he discovers that it’s not the case at all when he tells his colleagues about how he has to leave early because he has a date. he’s bewildered when someone asks him with whom, he thinks they are joking at first, but it doesn’t seem like it. “with my wife?”

SUNOO your husband is handsome. you’d say that he is pretty, ethereal even. you know that already— how gorgeous he is and how magnetic is aura can be. so, it doesn’t surprise you when he tells you that his colleagues spend half of their time trying to match him up with someone and the other half hitting on him with barely any shame. he always denies their offer with a sweet laugh—until he comes back from his honeymoon. he looks refreshed, he can’t stop smiling whenever he thinks about you, which makes him ten times more attractive. this time, when someone tells him that one of his colleagues likes him, he denies again but with a brand new formula. “i am a married man, now.”

JUNGWON can’t leave home without the satisfaction of your lips touching his. even if it’s not necessarily his lips, he wants a kiss somewhere on him. your complaints about how it’ll ruin your lip combo or take off your lipstick doesn’t affect him at all. your husband gets a kiss from his wife no matter what. sometimes, he even leaves before you can tell him that your lipstick is on his mouth, because he shuts you up with another peck before running away. usually, he notices it and take it off but not today. this time, it’s when one of his colleagues asks him who he got those stains from that he remembers. “oh, it must have been from my wife.”

RIKI he doesn’t understand why people don’t believe whenever he brings you up. he always talks about you— while making sure the use the term ‘my wife’ ever since you got married. however, it doesn’t seem to get into his colleagues’ head, for some reason that he either doesn’t know or that doesn’t make any sense. “i can’t go out with you guys today,” he tells his colleagues, already looking for his car somewhere in the parking lot— his mind is only focused in on coming home to you. “my wife is waiting for me at home.” today he decides to directly show pictures of your wedding when they ask what he is talking about. he was right, ‘but you are so young!’ is a stupid argument.

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

[sttoru]

sukuna never understood humans. they always say and do things that annoy him in a way. though after meeting you—his favorite little concubine—that annoyance has slowly started to turn into fondness, something he isn’t ready to accept or even acknowledge.

“come inside and quit your foolishness,” the king of curses groans, sighing for the nth time. his four arms are crossed over his chest and his expression is unreadable. he’s exasperated by your silly antics once more.

it’s raining—pouring—yet you’re outside in the courtyard. you’re smiling from ear to ear as you hop from puddle to puddle, enjoying the cold droplets that continuously fall and wet your skin. “oh, come on! it’s fun,” you giggle, urging sukuna to join you.

the pink-haired man only shakes his head and clenches his jaw. he doesn’t see the fun in being out there when it rains. he doesn’t understand why you’re so happy about getting dirty and wet. the kimono you’re wearing is one he specifically ordered for you and here you are, ruining it.

sukuna wants to get angry, but for some reason he can’t bring himself to raise his voice or show his disdain. the smile on your face and your happy giggles refrain him from doing or saying anything too hurtful.

if it were any of his other concubines, he’d probably have punished them the second he saw them being somewhere they shouldn’t.

but that doesn’t mean sukuna isn’t going to talk you out of it. or try to.

“y’ll get sick, brat. get back here i said,” sukuna calls out with a frown. he lets out a low groan of frustration when you simply continue to walk around happily in the rain. are you seriously not aware of how fragile humans are? being in this cold with little coverage is going to make you sick.

sukuna has had enough of your antics. he stomps forward, not caring about the rain that’s wetting his clothes. he just wants you to get inside and dry. he frowns and opens his mouth, ready to scold you.

however, as he closes the distance between you two, his voice got stuck in his throat. the sight that greets him makes his frown slowly disappear. his eyes wander over your face and body from up close, finally noticing just how beautiful you are while enjoying the stormy weather. the pure joy looks good on you.

you’re soaked, clothes and hair dripping wet, and yet you still manage to captivate him. the carefree smile on your face only adds to your charm. sukuna stops just an arm’s length from you, eyes narrowing.

you turn to face him properly and chuckle. “thank you for coming out to play with me,” you comment half-jokingly. you reach out to hold onto two of sukuna’s hands, tilting your head back to stare at him with those eyes.

those puppy eyes that will make even a ruthless monster like him calm down.

sukuna clears his throat and grumbles, “this is stupid.”

you laugh softly as you notice how he’s trying to hide the effect you have on him, though you know better than to address it directly. you wrap your arms around his waist, your bodies now pressed together. you tilt your head with a teasing grin, “reaaally? is it now?”

sukuna rolls his eyes, but doesn’t make a move to push you away. he can feel every curve of your frame pressing against his through your wet clothes and the sensation sure is tantalising.

his large hands move on their own. two settle on your waist while one other creeps up your back to come tangle into your hair, yanking slightly at the strands to make you tilt your head back.

sukuna leans down, his red eyes focused on your parted lips that are calling out to him. his mouth is on yours before he realises it, claiming you in a fierce kiss.

the rain continues to fall around you two, but neither of you seem to care. you’re too lost in the feeling of each other to pull away from the intimate kiss. your lips are moving in tandem, tongues brushing together.

you only pull away when you run out of air. you breathe heavily as you look up at sukuna, seeing the same yearning reflected in his piercing eyes. it makes your tummy tingle—makes you feel all giddy to know the power you have over such an unfeeling man.

sukuna doesn’t say a thing. the tension between you two is only emphasised by the rain. the continuous pitter patter of the droplets seems to only increase with time, making it harder to see, yet also intensifies the unspoken feelings. perhaps now he can understand what humans find so romantic about being in the rain with their someone.

but there’s this all-consuming thought that drives his mind towards a more dark place. looking at you with your kimono hugging every curve, the water drops dripping down your bare skin and your half-lidded eyes staring at him like he’s all you care about—it’s making the king of curses want to devour you whole. a carnal desire that threatens to take over every time he feels that foolish, sappy emotion which humans call love.

sukuna snaps out of his daze and a muscle in his jaw ticks. he grabs your wrist and cocks his head towards the doors leading inside. “alright, let’s get y’r ass inside,” he huffs and starts dragging you off with him, “i don’t want you complainin’ to me when you get sick, y’hear?”

you whine but now better than to struggle. you walk with him, heart still racing as you think of the intimate kiss you shared. you know you’re the only one who gets the privilege to kiss the king of curses, to be so close to him, to have him indulge your silly requests, to have him look at you with such insatiable desire.

it makes you even giddier thinking about it.

you look up at the back of sukuna’s head as he guides you inside of the palace, attempting to convince him to extend your little romantic outing, “can we do it agai—”

“no.”

well, it was worth a try.

[siriuslylantsov]

afterglow

pairing: joel miller x reader

description: in which, you spend an evening with joel on valentines day.

tags: MDNI! smut and fluff, established relationship, jackson!joel, fem!reader, sickeningly cute, so so much kissing, soft!joel (but hes also kinda dirty, i can't help myself), age gap (it was thought about when writing but it's not explicitly stated so imagine whatever), oral (f receiving, munch joel!! everyone cheered), fingering, unprotected piv (he pulls out), soft!dom joel kinda, aftercare, r and j's relationship is new but its implied that she already has a close relationship with ellie.

a/n: happy valentines day cuties!!! my gift to you. this started off super cute and soft and then two thirds of it became smut, idk where that came from. anywho, happy reading!!

wc: 3k

“hi darlin’,” joel says as you open the door. 

the early evening sun casts a soft orange glow over the side of face, complementing his complexion perfectly. a shy, crooked smile tugs at his lips, the dimple on his right cheek deepening. one arm is folded behind him, holding something from your view and the other is planted against the frame of your door.

“hi baby,” you reply, giggling as you step forward to kiss him.

he accepts your lips eagerly, using the hidden arm to curl around your waist. you hear the faint crinkle of paper against your back. you hum sweetly into the kiss, pulling away to see what he’s got for you. a small bouquet appears between your bodies–a humble bunch of white and purple flowers that could handle growing in the cold weather, along with some that you suspect the gardeners had a role in providing. 

“maria went on patrol with me today and helped me pick some o’ these out,” he explains, watching you toy with a lilac petal of a flower he can't be damned to remember the name of. “d’ya like em?”

your fingers rake softly through his beard, coaxing his gaze upward until his eyes meet yours. tears gather at your waterline, and joel should probably be alarmed—but he’s grown used to it, having been there for so many of your firsts. apparently, getting flowers was one of them too.

“i’ve never got flowers before,” you admit in a hushed whisper, sickening adoration pooling into your body, making you feel warm all over despite the cold air that sneaks its way into your house.

joel takes note of the wind picking up and guides you inside, a solid hand at the small of your back. he takes your dazed figure all the way to the kitchen, grinning amusedly at how you continue to admire the bouquet. he looks through your cabinets for something tall enough, settling when he finds a mason jar that would be perfect. 

“i really like these, joel.” you smile up at him when he's in front of you again. he's holding his hand out expectantly and the jar filled with water in the opposite one. you give him the flowers with a reluctant pout, following him to the counter where he begins to set them up.

“‘m glad,” he expresses warmly, untying the ribbon that held the stems together. “damn shame i couldn't get you roses, the garden ran out pretty quick.”

you can’t help the fond smile that spreads across your face as you watch him try to organise the flowers nicely, carefully moving them around so he doesn't accidentally pull off a petal. when he's happy with his arrangement he turns back to you, neatly folding up the brown paper that wrapped the bouquet and placing it in your palm. “ellie made me promise to tell you that she helped with that so keep it in mind, i guess,” he says, nodding to the doodles of leaves that were peppered along the edges.

“noted,” you laugh, picturing her fiery, insisting nature with ease. you gotta fuckin’, i don’t know, make it pretty for her, joel. just ugh- give it to me. 

suddenly, you remember the muffins that were kept warm in the oven. you scurry over there wordlessly, causing joel to twitch confusedly. you take the tray out with quick fingers, holding a muffin out for joel. 

“it's a new recipe, cinnamon and pear,” you explain excitedly as he walks over to you. when he looks down at it, he sees you’ve managed to orchestrate two small slices of fruit to sit in a heart shape and it's awfully cute.

your eyes are trained intently on him as he takes a bite. it's instantly the best thing he's ever tasted but he chews thoughtfully for a few more seconds so it doesn't look like he's making his mind up on a whim. admittedly, he is but it's also just that good. the texture of the warm cooked pear complimenting the firm but soft spiced crumb of the muffin. he hums in approval when he swallows, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“sweetheart, this is really fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, his voice rough in appreciation as he dusts off muffin remnants that have stuck to his bottom lip. 

you beam, extremely pleased. you wait as he finishes eating. not that long, apparently, as two big bites later, it’s gone. he reaches up with his free hand and tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, twirling it before letting it fall.

“so about today,” he starts and you hum attentively. “thought we’d take a walk around that part of town that you like and then go feed the horses. maybe go back to mine if there's time.”

-

the walk is perfect. you swing your joined hands between your bodies, smiling to yourself while joel complains about his brother. the air is solemn, the overwhelming scent and sound of love seeping out of every house you walk by. you never thought life could be this good again or that you’d feel this good again. you owe it all to the mumblin’ grumblin’ man beside you, the one softly caressing your thumb with his own, bringing it up to his mouth so he can kiss the back of your hand. 

when you reach the stables, joel pulls out the carrots he had tucked away in his large jacket pocket. (you’d made a detour at the greenhouse before coming here.) you divide the carrots into equal pieces for the animals, setting aside an extra chunk for a horse you remember ellie being particularly fond of–shimmer, if you recall correctly. 

joel takes in the sight, endearing eyes unable to part from you. your hand reaching out calmly, vegetable centred in your palm, you bring it to the horse's mouths, giggling when their tongues peek out and tickle you. he crowds in behind you, his arms wrapping around your middle. you squirm a little when he tilts to press a kiss to your neck, claiming his lips are cold. 

“well, let me warm ‘em up, sweetheart.”

-

you make it to joel's front door well after sundown, stars shining like diamonds spilled across the night sky. you make a mental note to go stargazing with him and ellie, if she wants, when the weather gets warmer. for now, you just want to be inside. 

“she’s with her friend dina tonight,” joel answers your unasked, looming question. you bite back the smile that the words ‘friend’ and ‘dina’ prompt, knowing a lot more than joel about his kids’ relationship status. she's just waiting for the right time.

you turn around to him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “so what you’re saying,” you muse lightly. “is that we have the place to ourselves.”

“mhm,” he smirks.

you twist the door open, often left unlocked, and let yourself through. “well then. come on in, mr. miller.”

he trails behind you up the steps, fingers lacing with yours. you walk into his room with a quiet sigh, taking off your shoes and watching as he follows suit. you love his room, a cultivation of who he is within four walls. you switch on the lamp on his bedside table, refraining from turning the main light so a faint glow encompasses the room, just enough to see the softness in his beautiful brown eyes.

“kiss me?”

he clicks his teeth before lowering his lips to yours, “don’t have to ask.”

his moustache tickles your upper lip and the coarse hair of his beard grazes your chin lightly, but it's not irritating. you welcome the sensation, it being a feature of his that you adore so dearly. proving this, your nails scratch the patch of grey at his jaw. 

his tongue slips out, tracing the seam of your lips. a low sound escapes you when you grant him entrance, licking into your mouth languidly. there's no rush, there never is. it's a luxury that three months ago you would’ve laughed at, disbelief evident.

his hands find your waist, pulling your hips flush together. he slips off your jacket and greedily tugs at the hem of your shirt. you appease by lifting your arms. he reaches behind you when he gets your shirt off, deftly unclasping your bra. he does this all while kissing you, but when he finally gets your top half bare, he pulls away. to look.

“beautiful,” he exhales a quick, amazed breath that whooshes past his lips. he admires you unabashedly, trailing his hands up your sides and down your front. he nudges you gently, guiding you onto the bed, his frame looming over yours as you sit down. 

you look up at him with dopey, half-lidded eyes, sneaking eager hands under his flannel and undershirt. your fingers trace over his skin, pressing into the soft warmth of his stomach, his body heat sinking into your palms. “back at ya, cowboy."

he takes this as a sign to peel off his layers, pulling them off with ease and adding them to the pile of discarded clothes. you spend a moment gaping at his torso before he lowers himself on top of you, dragging his lips up your neck as he does so. you whine when he begins sucking at your pulse point, teeth scraping your skin every so often. his kisses go lower and lower as he toys with the button of your jeans. 

he kisses at your belly, lips catching on the exposed skin of your hips, then upper thighs as he slowly pulls your jeans and underwear down, purposefully avoiding where you need him most. he strips off his pants and boxers and nudges for you to scoot up the bed. you sink into the pile of pillows, joel not far behind as he sits bracketed by your thighs. he runs his hands up and down them, calloused fingertips caressing your skin, squeezing in intervals and leaning down to kiss them, kiss your knees and your calves.

“joel, please,” you whisper, growing a little antsy, his hands all over your body aren't helping. 

“impatient,” he tuts, but there's no real reprimand in his voice. “jus’ let me take my time with you.”

“will you at least come up here and kiss me while you're at it?” 

he smiles, “what’d i tell ya?”

“don't have to-” your poor impression of his southern drawl gets cut off by his lips on yours. you sigh dreamily into the kiss; you'll never get used to that feeling. his hand cradles your jaw, tilting it to deepen this kiss. you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking it into your mouth. 

a needy sound rumbles in the back of his throat, and with a reluctant pull, he breaks away, shifting back to the space between your legs. he's lying on his stomach, cheek pressed against your inner thigh as he waits for your approval. when you nod, he dives in, no time to waste.

he licks a fat stripe between your folds, causing you to cry out. he hooks an arm over your hips to cease your writhing. you could say joel miller eats you out like a man starved, but right now, it's more like a savoured meal, slow and leisurely in its pace. he takes his time, measured strokes of tongue that are assuredly making you feel all the right kinds of ways. you thread your fingers through his hair, so soft, tugging lightly and he hums. 

you dare to spare a glance down. it's deadly–him with his mouth attached to you like a vice and eyes staring up at you, decidedly looking like he belongs there. you want to look away but the sight is so enticing. 

“baby, more,” you ask breathlessly. “please.”

“yeah?” he sounds equally out of breath, tracing a middle and ring finger around your entrance. “this what you want?”

you nod pathetically with a meek “yes.”

he pushes in slowly, met with no resistance. he finds that spot fast, pressing his curled fingers up. his fingers are longer and thicker than yours, reaching places you’d never been able to. he persistently rubs up, pulling out a little only to go back fast, just the way you like. all the while, he does this thing with his tongue–god, that tongue–where he flicks it from side to side over your clit, flattening it when needed, and it is earth-shattering. 

that well-known feeling starts to build and you repeatedly tug at joel's hair, mewling softly, trying to signal him. he’d already figured you were close, but still, he nods. he lifts his head to see you, his thumb replacing his tongue. 

“c’mon, sweetheart. give it to me,” he urges you on, kissing your hip bone with slick wet lips and his fingers working fervently like it's the most important thing in the world. joel would argue that right now, it is. “know you want to.”

“joel, yes, oh fuck-” you keen, shuddering violently as you finish. he keeps going, working you through it, lapping up the mess when his fingers slip out. he can't get enough of you. you weakly push at his head, “baby, enough. s’too much.”

suddenly, he's on top of you again, rubbing a clean hand over your hair. “okay, okay,” he coos, his voice low and lulling. he presses gentle pecks to your neck, making his way back up to your lips. you kiss him again, more sluggish than previously, whimpering when you taste yourself on him. fuck, you need him. 

you carefully drift a hand between your bodies, curling your fingers around his length. he hisses, inhaling a sharp breath. “shit, are you sure-”

you press him against you, guiding his tip to your slit. “fuck me, joel,” you whisper, using your other hand to hold his face.

that's all he needs to hear before he starts sinking into you, simultaneously groaning as he does. he curses low, though it sounds and looks more like a whine when you see the way his face has twisted up in pleasure when his hips are flush with yours. you feel addictively full, so you hug your arms around his shoulders to prolong the moment. he buries his head in your neck, breathing shallowly as you flutter around him.

“gotta move angel, i gotta-” he gets cut off when you squeeze, nodding against his shoulder. 

he thrusts greedily, pulling out almost fully until he somehow goes in deeper. it’s not fast but it’s not slow either, just enough that it leaves you reeling when he draws his hips back. the stretch of him is something you feel you won't get used to, it only just borders on pain that makes it feel deliriously good. all you can offer him are broken gasps as you find purchase on his back with your nails, digging into the flesh. 

“fuck you feel good, so so good,” he croons, his voice is soft, breathy, as he presses a lingering kiss to your neck, the words barely a whisper between your bodies. “can't believe you’re mine, this perfect fuckin’ body, perfect fuckin' girl.”

maybe it's the wrecked rasp to his voice or the way the base of his dick rubs against you just right but the high builds fast, record time even. you squeeze around him frantically, mouthing sloppily at his shoulder. 

“yeah?” he pants, lifting his head so he can look at you again, you’ve got the sense that he likes to watch. you like him watching you. “gonna give me another one? gonna cum for me?”

“mhm,” you hum, teetering on a sob as he starts fucking you harder, a determined look in his eyes. your face falls sideways into the arm that joel had pressed beside your head “oh god, ohgod-”

“there you go. good girl,” he gushes warmly as you finish. he speeds up urgently, letting your climax be the catalyst of his own, chasing something just out of reach. you pull his face to yours with desperate hands, clinging to him, needing to kiss him. his lips brush over yours messily, not quite kissing you and it drives you crazy. he cums with one more strong thrust, groaning loudly into your open mouth as he pulls out and spills over your stomach.

he slumps on you, heavy, as he comes to, smearing stickiness all over but you find that you don’t care much. you cradle the back of his head with gentle hands, murmuring sweet things. you can feel his soft exhales on your collarbone, sighing as you weave your fingers between his strands. his heart races against your own, almost in sync. 

the two of you stay like that for a moment longer as everything slows down. nothing else matters apart from the silvery glow of moonlight filtering through his sheer curtains, spilling in revered ribbons across the floor, or the soft, grounding weight of his body on top of yours. his fingers trace the skin within reach, absentminded circles over your hip bones, lines beneath the curve of your breast. 

eventually, he rolls off you, getting the sense that some of your limbs might be going numb. in the midst of your post-orgasmic haze, you don’t realise that he leaves, returning with a damp towel to clean you up. he wipes you up swiftly, murmuring a hushed sorry when you squirm away and joins you under the covers.

he pulls you into his side, letting you tuck yourself under his arm. he presses a kiss to your temple. everything is so serene you want to cry. your body has other plans for you when the dregs of sleep start to claw at your worn-down edges. joel feels the slow flutter of your eyelashes on his chest and he begins to rub a gentle hand over your back, attempting to coax you further. sleep offers its solace, and joel’s steady presence pulls you under, silently promising to keep you warm. 

before you drift off though, you hear him–unbearably soft, whispering against your forehead.

“happy valentine's day, angel girl.”

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

[heatherhorns]

SUICIDE CW in gloomy sunday, it fucks with me that it's

Death is no dream, for in death I'm caressing you With the last breath of my soul, I'll be blessing you Gloomy Sunday

instead of

Death is no dream, for in dreams I'm caressing you With the last breath of my soul, I'll be blessing you Gloomy Sunday

Because i just expect it so much I misheard it??

The latter just hits harder! The idea that they're dying without the expectation of an afterlife in which they'll hold their lover. The anguished love they can't survive goes from "i'd die if it meant i could see you again" to "i'd die if i couldn't see you again"

What makes Gloomy Sunday so impactful is that it's a deep, deep mourning with this almost eerie calm of overwhelming despair. They're happy to die. There's nothing for them here in life anymore. The suggestion that they have a pot of gold waiting for them after death sorta undercuts that.

when the lyrics you've been mishearing are more clever than what's actually in the song

[luvyeni]

THE HIGH LIFE 𝕼. ( 02z )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 박종성 x fem!reader )  ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. rich!enhypen , exotic dancer!reader , threesome , oral ( m ), unprotected sex, double penetration word count. 2.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

synopsis … jay doesn’t mind sharing his new and favorite girl

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ why can’t i ever find a good clear photo of these three … anyways here it is and I hope you like you !

jake and sunghoon walked through the club ; the different half dressed dancer staring at them with hunger in their eyes; it’s like they could smell the money radiating off of the boys — they could see it too , just by the way they skipped the long line outside.

“the internet was right , jay really outdid himself with this club.” sunghoon eyed up a dancer who just smirked at him walking away. “where is that fucker anyway?” they searched around the club , weaving through all the people. “there he is.” jake pointed , the boy was sitting in vip , surrounded by very beautiful women scrolling through his phone; sunghoon scoffed. “cocky fucking bastard.” they made their way over to the vip section. “did you forget you invited or what?”

jay looked up from him phone ; shooing the dancers away. “go have some fun , make some money.” he said , sending the bouncers waiting in front away. ”you guys are an hour late.” he said , jake and sunghoon sat down. “sorry we have our own businesses to attend to.” sunghoon said. “besides seems like you had enough company to keep you business.” jake smirked. “not like you paid attention to them , how the fuck could you be glued to your phone while surrounded by so many sexy ladies?”

the three current young; rich and trending men sat in the secluded section in the crowded club. “yeah they’re all pretty , they make me tons of money but that’s pretty much it.” he shrugged. “you serious man?” jake took a sip of his drink. “all these pretty girls and not one you’ve taken home to that big lonely apartment of yours?” sunghoon asked not convinced at the words he was hearing. “stop fucking lying.”

he sat back in his seat with a smirk. “well there’s one.” he said , his friends exchanging glances between each other. “only one? well she’s got to be real fucking special to get the park jongseongs undivided attention.” jake said. “are you serious with her?” jay shook his head. “that’s the thing , she’s not looking to date , just a quick fuck here and there.” he said. “and pay her fucking bills probably.” jay didn’t take offense to that , he did pay for your living , but with all the money he had it was nothing to him. “she’s happy and im very , and i like to keep my girls happy.”

“so let’s meet her.” jay raised his hands , calling over one of the dancers. “yes mr. park.” sunghoon rolled his eyes , while jake smirked. “go get yn , tell her to get pretty and come out.” the dancer nodded , walking away. “mr. park? you narcissistic fuckhead.”

meanwhile you sat on the pink couch jay placed in the room you and the rest of the girls got ready in. “you dancing tonight yn?” another dancer asked you. “or are you waiting for jay to get off.” you smirked hearing the condescending tone in her voice. “don't start this today.” hana a bartender that you were friends with said. “let’s be real here , yn is the best dancer here , has the nicest ass and a good pair of tits , if it wasn’t gonna be her than it wasn’t gonna be you.” the door opened with a dancer walking in. “yn you’re working vip tonight for jay and his friends.”

you stood up off the couch , undoing your pink silky robe. “have fun tonight ladies.” you said , staring at the dancer who was red with anger. “maybe when im done with him you can have him , that’s a big maybe and when.” you said , slipping into your heels walking out of the room ; letting them deal with the girls' tantrum , you’ve gotten used to it now ever since the girls figured out the situation you and jay had going on. that’s exactly what it was a situation — you and him had fun and he showered you with gifts, nothing more.

you immediately caught jays eye as you made your way over to the section with a fresh bottle of the most expensive alcohol in your hand that you got when you stopped by the counter. “that’s an expensive bottle.” jay said. “and i guess it was on my dime?” you smiled. “now why would it be on mine?” you sat it in the ice. “you called me out here didn’t you?” you said. “well that’s because i wanted you to meet some friends of mine.” you turned facing the two very attractive men sitting in front of you. “you have very attractive friends.”

“ah don’t make me jealous.” jay said , his arm snaking around your waist pulling you into his lap. “you called me out here to play and i want to play.” you pouted , your eyes trained on sunghoon. “i like that one.” you pointed , sunghoon raised his eyebrow. “me?” he said you nodded. “yeah you.” oh you were snippy , he liked that. “told she’s a handful hoon.” jay rubbed your waist , he allowed you to do what you wanted , but at the end of the day he knew whose bed you’d end up in once the club closed. ”hoon.” you let his name fall from your lips in a sultry tone. “is he paying?” you asked more so him. “i have the money.” jay removed his arm , you stood up walking over to him. “good.”

you sat down right on his lap; his arm came around you to keep you upright. “don’t be so scared , you can look.” you whispered in his ear. “or touch i don’t mind , but that’s gonna cost you extra.” you felt him gripping your side. “princess play nice.” jay said. “i don’t think i want to.” you bit your bottom lip. “she’s a brat jay , i see why you like her so much.” you moved around in his lap , he hissed. “she’s too cute though.” jay said , jake sitting there , he hadn’t said anything since you came over , but you could feel his eyes on you. “is he a little shy?”

you moved to sunghoons other leg , resting your arms on the chair ; you leaned over to him. “thats jake baby.” you smiled. “well jake are you shy?” he shook his head. “no?” you tilted your head to the side. “that’s good , shy men bore me.” jay watched you , a drink in his hand , lure his friends into your sexy but dangerous web. “princess.” he spoke up. “how about we move this to a more private space?” he could see your eyes basically light up , standing up , grabbing your hand. “you guys coming?”

the four of you definitely knew what you were on the moment the door closed to the red room; jay immediately moved your hair to the side , kissing your neck; pulling your straps to your bra down. “you know what to do princess.” the three men stood in front of you; you slowly peeled the very little clothing you had on , a look of hunger and lust in their eyes as your boobs bounced due to the lack of a bra. “fuck , sexy ain’t she?” the two boys nodded; you pulled your panties off , throwing them at jake , leaving your thigh garters and heels on. “don’t just stand there like a bunch of pussies.”

“you know i don’t really like that mouth she has on her.” sunghoon said , he was the first one to walk over to you. “makes you want to shut her up doesn’t it?” jake nodded. “she’s too talkative , let's end that.” jake said , already unbuckling his jeans. “shut her up.” he sat down , freeing himself from his pants , his cock springing up , slapping against his stomach; he was a nice size , thick enough. his tip was read and leaking with precum. “look at her drooling like a slut.”

“suck him off.” jay commanded ; sitting down in the seat watching as you took him into your hand , jerking him off. “fuck.” jake groaned. “so big.” you go face to his cock , your ass in the air giving jay and sunghoon a look at your drenched cunt. “look at that.” jay slapped your ass , you moaned ; jake grabbing the back of your head , pushing your head down on his cock. “look at that wet pussy.” sunghoon chuckled. “drenched like a fucking slut.”

jake had you by your hair , guiding your head up and down on his cock , gagging on it as jay sunk a finger inside you. “gotta stretch this pussy out before we completely ruin it.” you moaned around jakes cock which made him moan. “fu-fuck her throat is so fucking good.”

“she’s ready.” jay pulled his fingers out of your hole. “try and be a little gentle.” he told sunghoon , but the way the boy slapped your ass ; you could tell he was gonna be anything but that. “such a nice fucking ass.” he growled watching it jiggle. “pussy so wet , you’re fucking dripping like a little whore.” you moaned , pulling off of jakes cock with a pop , jerking him off. “are you gonna put it in or are you gonna stand there and slap my ass all night.” you teased , rubbing your ass back on his cock. “fuck.” he groaned , pushing himself right inside you ; you moaned out , taking jake back into your mouth.

“fucking slut just letting me in like that.” sunghoon dug his finger into the flesh of your ass. “pussy was waiting for one of us to fill it.” he moved his hips ; you tried to moan , but your mouth was occupied by jake bucking up into your mouth , the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. “ fuck fuck!” he cursed. “fuck im gonna cum.” jake pushed your head all the way down , his cock twitching as his cum shot from his tip into your throat. “ah fuck , fucking shit!” jake cursed , as you released your mouth. “shit that felt good.” he sighed , throwing his head back , your head was pushed against the couch cushions as sunghoon plowed you from the back.

“ah shit , slutty pussy got wet just from him cumming down your throat.” sunghoon thrusted deep inside you. “fucking nasty slut.” jay stood up from his seat. “pull out.” he said , sunghoon pulled out leaving you wanting more. “you gonna take us both princess , you cool with that?” jay said , you smiled , nodding as you climbed into his lap , your back against his chest. “used to taking more than one cock?” sunghoon said. “don’t think you’ll live up to it?” you bit back , he smirked. “bet.”

“both of you calm down.” you moaned as jay rubbed his cock along your folds , your head dropping back against his shoulder. “both of you are gonna get what you want.” he pushed himself inside you , filling bottoming out. “oh fuck that’s princess , let’s open you up for sunghoons cock.” his fingers coming to your folds pulling your pussy lips apart already being split by his cock. “don’t worry bro she can handle it.” jay said , sunghoon smirked , rubbing his cock along your folds. “not like she had much a choice anyway.”

sunghoon pushed himself inside you ; stretching you open along with jay. “ah fuck!” you screamed as they both moved the same time. “fuck fuck.” both of them moving , one in and one out; you were never not filled , both of them fucking you ; and then jake wasn’t done , coming back over to , slapped his cock on your boobs , rubbing his tip along your nipples. “mmh fuck , such pretty tits.” you tilt your head , taking his tip into your mouth. “fuck.” jay moaned out. “guess she wants her mouth full again.”

you nodded moaning as you bring him back into you mouth. jays hand came up to your boobs, squeezing them as he bucked up into you. “don’t cum.” he whispered in your ear. “you cum when it’s just me and you.” you moaned , nodding. “fuck , im gonna cum.” sunghoon said , pulling out jerking his cock off. “fuck.”

jake also pulled out , his tip pressed against your cheek as he stroked his cock. “down on your knees baby you’re gonna take all of our cum.” you stood up , legs wobbly as get down on your knees , letting them all circle around you jerking off , they all groaned as they came at different times , covering your face with their loads. “look at the slut.” sunghoon said , squeezing his length , milking himself. “covered in cum.” jay looked down at you , bringing his hand up to your cheek , pushing his thumb into your mouth. “good girl.”

jay covered you in his jacket ; letting you lay there while he handled business with them outside. “i really do fucking understand you.” jake said. “i wouldn’t mind taking her home for a few nights too.” jay shook his head. “what she does when i don’t see her is not my business.”

“just know she will always end up back in my bed , spending my dime.”

©️LUVYENI

[witherby]

I need anything and everything of jason being Mouses favourite. (The Littlest Wayne AU)

They get a snack/ meal - Jay Jay has to take a bite first before they eat

They have a new toy- Jay Jay has to see and play

I’ll take anything you can think of.

I am obsessed. The AU is amazing

-🤍💜

Say less! I love Jason Todd and so does Flittermouse! By the way the word count is 3100+ lol oops

The Littlest Wayne: Fist Bumps

Masterlist is Here!

"This is stupid."

"Shut up, you're just mad you won't get picked."

Tim kicks Damian in the shin, who retaliates by kicking him back much, much harder in the ankle. Tim cries out, about to start a fight, but one stern look from Alfred settles them both down. They continue to sit beside each other without fuss, and soon everyone is all neatly lined in a row while Hal uses his ring to keep you safely suspended in a bubble, playing with a little rattle.

"Alright," Dick says excitedly, "we're going over the rules one more time! No jingling any shiny objects for Flitty to chase after, no getting out of line to get closer to them, and Bruce, no bare skin! We're gonna have Hal set them down and see who they come to first."

"This isn't gonna go the way you think it's gonna go," Bruce says, endlessly amused. "Please, none of you get your feelings hurt."

"Nobody's gonna start cryin', relax," Jason says, lounging on the floor between Damian and Hal. "Kay, we ready?"

A chorus of agreement follows, and Hal gently lowers you to the floor. They all immediately call your name, or variations of your nickname, waving their hands and patting their laps to get you to come to them. Your eyes widen, startled by the sudden rush of noise, and turn your head to assess everyone across the room.

You lock on to the man you want, the binky in your mouth bopping up and down excitedly, and you start speedily crawling to Jason.

"I KNOW that's fuckin' right!" He yells, scooping you into his arms and gently tossing you in the air a couple inches, then peppering your face with kisses. "I'm the favorite you little freaks. Kiss my ass."

"Okay, whatever, we knew that already," Dick says, "now it's time to see who the second favorite is. Put them down and go away so we can play again."

"Be nice to your brother," Bruce says. Dick flicks Bruce in the ear and he scowls. "Ow. Be nice to me."

"Fine. Gotta know who my competition is for the number one spot in Mousey's heart, even if I'm winning by a landslide." Jason carries you across the room and sets you back down. "You stay for a sec, kay? Pound it." He picks up your chubby arm and makes you give him a fist bump, then walks away from you.

Before they can even start a second round of the game, you're shuffling after him again. Christ, it's adorable.

"It's because they can still see you, Todd," Damian says, scooping you up to put back in starting position. "Duck behind the couch."

Jason rolls his eyes but complies, bending down until he's out of sight. When the rest of the family calls for you again, you shuffle forward like you're going to crawl to Hal, but you veer past him and around to the back of the couch to get to Jason again.

"Oh my god, they've developed object permanence already," Tim says. Jason's triumphant laughter fills the room as he lifts you up to give you more kisses. His endless delight and your happy squealing softens the blow to everyone else's egos.

"This game sucks anyway," Dick mumbles, crossing his arms in defeat. "What idiot even came up with it in the first place..."

--

"You ask."

"Uh, no? You ask? I don't care."

"Yeah but he tolerates your questions. I don't wanna get my jaw blown off."

"Then don't ask, dumbass. It's so easy."

Jason clears his throat, causing the two goons to stiffen up and turn to face him. One of them looks upset that he was caught unaware, and the other looks one wrong move away from pissing himself.

"Hi, boss," they both greet.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Jason asks, taking a half-step closer. "Cause last I checked, I sent you both over here to do quality control on our newest drug shipment. And I'm not seeing a lot of that gettin' done."

He turns to the more frightened man. If he didn't have his helmet on, he would've sneered at him.

"So what's the hold up? Need me to sew some mouths shut? Hmm? Want me t'cut out your fuckin' tongue? That'll motivate you real fast, I bet."

"We'll get right on it, boss," the other, clearly smarter, henchman states. "We were just. Uh. Wondering why there's... why there's a baby strapped to your chest."

Jason looks down at you. You stare right back at him, making a soft cooing noise around your Red Hood-themed binky, and reach up for his mask. He gently takes your hand instead, feeling your tiny fingers curl around the leather of his gloved pointer. He's smiling sweetly at you, despite no one being able to see it.

"This is M," he says by way of an answer. "Won't be an everyday occurrence — couldn't find another babysitter so I assured the dad I'd keep 'em safe for the night."

He doesn't mention that your dad is also his dad, and that when Jason tried to leave to do his vigilante work, you screamed the house down and would only calm down in his arms, therefore he had no choice. So here you are, strapped to his chest in a onesie padded with kevlar and vital-tracking tech, while your favorite brother carries your diapers and formula around in the same duffel he stashes his guns.

And because you're his favorite, too, he secretly hopes you throw more fits so he gets to hoard you all to himself again. Taking a few minutes to tickle your tummy or gently rock you in his arms stops him from losing his patience and blowing out the brains of several subordinates tonight — which his men clearly catch onto, because they all start telling him how nice it is to see such a cute and perfect and pleasant, life-saving baby hanging around.

Fuck yeah it's nice. S'cause you're the coolest baby ever. Jason gently makes you fist bump him.

--

"AHHH!"

Jason is out of his chair and bolting across the Manor before his brain fully registers your screaming through the baby monitor. There's surprised exclamations and footfalls not far from him as his thunderous steps stir up a commotion, but he doesn't care about that.

There are very few times in his life when he's moved this fast. Large, expansive rooms fly by him in a blur of color. He takes the stairs six at a time. If a door he needs to get through is closed, he's breaking it down with a well-placed hit with his shoulder and moving on.

When he gets to your room, he stops to yank the door open because he doesn't know if you're near it, and darts inside with a sharp shout of your name.

"What's wrong!?" He pants, zeroing in on you immediately. You've rushed into your wardrobe and climbed inside it, red-faced and crying as a crow flaps haphazardly around the bedroom. The shattered glass on the floor gives him the missing context, and he snatches the bird out of the air with more force than necessary while the adrenaline spike is still scrambling his nervous system.

Bruce is the second person to rush into your room just moments after, crouching by your hiding spot with furrowed brows and a soft, slightly winded voice.

"Are you hurt?" He asks. You whimper but shake your head, fat tears rolling down your little cheeks, and lift your hands. Bruce picks you up without hesitation and stands up.

"Jaylad?" He says, still in that gentle tone. "You alright?"

Jason doesn't answer. He's not alright, not really. The rage he'd built up thinking someone was in here hurting you is still burning through his veins, and with no outlet for it, he's struggling a bit.

Bruce doesn't take offense to his lack of response. He just offers you a small, reassuring smile and bounces you a bit in his arms.

"Let's go find Grandpa and snuggle up with some hot chocolate," he murmurs. "Jay-Jay will hang back and make sure your bedroom is safe for you."

"No!" You sob, leaning around your father's broad shoulders to reach for Jason. "Want Jay-Jay!"

"You can spend time with him in a little while, Mouse," Bruce says, starting to carry you out of the room. Your protests get louder and more frantic, pushing against him to no avail.

"Want Jay!" You repeat, sobbing openly. "Jay-Jay! Want, p'ease!! Jay-Jay!"

"Bruce," Jason utters through grit teeth. His father stops, only a few steps down the hallway, and turns back to him. "It's fine. I'll take 'em, you clean up the mess."

"...are you sure?" Bruce frowns, visibly cautious. He looks down at the bird still flapping helplessly as Jason holds it by the neck, firmer than strictly necessary.

Jason takes a step towards the broken window and tosses the crow out. After a second of frantic flapping, it straightens itself out and flies away with panicked sqawking.

He turns to you and holds out his arms. They're only trembling a little bit, but the edges of his vision are still tinged with green. Bruce hesitates to pass you over.

"I've got it," Jason murmurs, "I'm calm enough. Gimme my fuckin' sibling before you piss me off worse, B."

Bruce nods slowly. He brings you back into the room and hands you off to Jason. Your arms circle his neck and cling on tight, and you bury your face in his chest as you cry. It breaks his heart that you had such a bad scare. He can see the half-completed Lego build you were playing with on the floor in front of the window and hopes Bruce can get all the glass shards out between the bricks and carpet.

Jason carries you out of your bedroom and down the corridor to his. He leaves his door cracked open and flicks on lights as he goes, then brings you to the en-suite bathroom.

"Okay, Mousey," he mumbles, trying to set you on the sink's vanity. You clutch him tighter and whimper, and it drives a spear right through his chest. "Kid, I'm not goin' nowhere. Jay-Jay's right here, I just wanna make sure there's no glass on you."

A little more prodding and the compromise of you holding one of his hands gets you to relent. You sit miserably on the counter as your sobs slowly die down, and Jason tediously checks your hair and clothes for any bits of glass that may have landed on you when the crow crashed into the window. The slow, repetitive motions help quiet the last of his anger until he's just tired and concerned for you. He finds a couple tiny pieces, but your skin is unblemished and when he asks if you're hurt, you shake your head, which then calms him entirely.

"Alright, great job," he murmurs. "Come here, we'll go bother Alfie t'give us an icecream sammy before dinner and then cuddle in the main living room. Good plan?"

You sniffle, wiping the last of your tears away. Your cheeks are flushed and puffy. "Yeah, good pwan..."

Jason kisses the top of your head and offers you his fist. You gently bump yours against his, then lift your arms again to be picked back up. He obliges, refusing to put you back down for the rest of the day. When it's time for bed, you don't wanna go back into your room, so he spends the evening reading his current novel with a dim book light while you snooze away on his chest.

--

He's livid. Jason's got a hole in his leg and he can't run away from the rival gang leader pointing a gun at his head, and he's fucking livid.

"My first death was way cooler," he mutters. "Got blown up and everything."

"What the fuck are you saying?" The other man scowls. "I never could understand you through that thick-ass helmet."

"I'm saying, if you're gonna go down as the guy that killed the Red Hood, at least make the execution something fuckin' noteworthy," Jason rants, the pain making him bitchier than usual. He waves his hands for emphasis, pointing at the gunman much like a mother scolding her child. "Ohh I shot him and watched his brain splatter everywhere! So has every single marksman ever. I'm worth more than a bullet in an alleyway. The fuck do I look like, Bruce Wayne's folks?"

"Whoa, man," the shooter says, lifting his free hand to scratch the back of his head. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad I'm gonna kill you. You're that mad I'm not gonna kill you...in a cooler way?"

"Excellent listening ears, bucko! Gold star!" Jason coos, clapping. "Immolation, decapitation, tossin' me in an acid pit — fuck me, I'll take a stab wound over a bullet! D'you know how skilled you gotta be to get close enough to stab Red Hood to death!? If not for me, do somethin' that'll raise your own paltry street cred, shit. You're so fucking boring."

The man doesn't get another chance to weigh his options. The darkness of the alleyway pounces on him, sucking him into the void while he shrieks like an animal. Jason slumps against the wall and watches the shapeless darkness warp and twist, the gun abandoned on the ground in the gunman's initial panic. He feels his heart rate slow when you step out after a minute, wearing a thick jacket over your pajamas and a domino mask over your eyes as you hurry towards him. A flash of irritation makes him scowl as he realizes one of the others woke you up for this, when you aren't even a vigilante to begin with. The culprit's gonna get their ass beat as soon as he recovers enough to track them down.

"Okay," you stammer, kneeling next to him on the ground with a first aid kit. "Okay okay okay...Alf — umm, Agent A? I'm here, what do I do?"

"Remain calm, Flittermouse. All will be well," Alfred soothes you over the comms. Jason feels the adrenaline steadily exiting his body now that he's registered that he's safe. Now, it's a fight to stay conscious so you don't freak out even more than you're currently doing. He's so proud of you for coming out here despite the blatant fear.

Your hands shake as you pop the kit open and pull out the field tourniquet. Alfred instructs you on how to set it up, and Jason gently adjusts it when you wrap it a little too close to the bullet wound in his thigh. He grits his teeth as you tighten it, refusing to make a peep, and gives you a quick thumbs up when you tie it off.

"Okay, I stopped the bleeding. Do I bring him home, now?" You ask.

"As long as he has no other injuries, the medical bay is ready for you to transport him back to the cave."

"M'good, Mousey," Jason says, lifting his fist. "Sorry you had to come rescue your cool big bro. S'not your job."

"I was the one who could get here the fastest," you reply. After a moment's hesitation, you bump his fist with your own. "You're gonna be okay."

"M'gonna be okay," he echoes, knowing you need that confirmation. "Saved my life, kid. I'll do all your chores for the next week."

That gets a wet laugh out of you. You hug Jason tight and the shadows of the alley pool underneath your bodies. Jason closes his eyes and hugs you back, a steady anchor in the free-falling sensation entering your darkness gives him.

"My heroics are only worth a week of chores?"

"S'better than the rest get," he says. "They get one chore. Not even a whole day, just one chore."

You bury your face in his shoulder as the void swallows you and him up.

"You're my favorite, too, Jay-Jay," you mumble. Jason smiles as he loses the battle for consciousness.

--

"Good afternoon; welcome to Truce Juice. Would you like a moment with a menu or are you ready to order?"

Jason leans his hip against the counter and takes a menu off the small, laminated stack you've got sitting there, glancing over the options. Behind the helmet, he smiles as he remembers all the late nights you pulled him and your other brothers into the kitchen to taste test these drinks and snacks, desperate to make things that would appeal to many people. He remembers how proud you were to graduate from your culinary courses and the victory cry you let out when you found insurance willing to cover the building.

You smile warmly at him, waiting patiently for him to choose something off the menu for the first time in your brand new business.

"Black coffee," he says, voice warped by the modulator in the helmet, "two sugars."

"What size?" You ask, tapping it into the screen in front of you.

"Large. And a turkey panini, with avocado and pesto."

"Toasted?"

"What other fuckin' way would anybody get a panini?" He muses aloud. To strangers, he would sound angry, but you can tell he's genuinely asking. You just shrug and keep the soft smile on your face.

"You'd be surprised. Your total's on the screen; will that be cash or card?"

Jason reaches a gloved hand down. It glides past the pistol strapped to his thigh, eliciting nervous gasps from bystanders in the cafe, and into the pocket underneath, drawing out a plain, tri-fold wallet. He pulls out two hundred-dollar bills and huffs at you to keep the change, then saunters over to the pick-up counter to wait.

He crosses his arms and watches you scuttle around behind the counter, genuinely happy to make food and drinks for anybody that comes in. So far, you're uninjured and you've been able to stop any rising conflicts in seconds, which he's endlessly thankful for.

When his order is ready, you hand it to him with another bright smile.

"Alright, mister Hood, here you go. Have a great day!"

Jason nods, about to turn away, when he sees you hold your fist out in his periphery.

He grins, heart fit to burst, and bumps it back.

[slapmeshigaraki]

: •̩̩͙ ໋ "let me take care of you, hm?" •̩̩͙ ໋:

Every bone in your body ached, throat stinging as you swallowed. Your eyes squinted, the brightness of the overhead light stinging them. It was too warm, your thighs sticking together underneath a thick blanket with a familiar scent. You shifted in place, willing your body to move slowly, but before you could sit up, a voice cut through the silence.

“No no no, be still.” The silver haired boy spoke at a volume slightly louder than usual. He wasted no time rushing over to where you laid on the couch, the fabric making indents in your skin from how long you’d been laying there.

“Xavier, I can’t feel my legs. I have to get up,” He shook his head.

“You’re weak. You need to eat before you try to move around too much.” You scrunched your nose as he sat on the coffee table beside me, a bowl of an ambiguous substance tucked in between his hands. He stirred it slowly, steam pooling off of the spoon. He blew on it once or twice before extending it for you to try.

“Xavier, who made that?”

“I did,” Your stomach turned at the thought. Xavier couldn’t boil an egg properly. The thought of a meal prepared by him had you feeling worse than before.

“I’m not hungry, really. I’m fine. I think I just need some water and-“

“Baby, please. I just want you to feel better. Try one bite for me, yeah?” His face softened, eyes wide as he stared at you, the spoon still pointed in your direction, taunting you, daring you to take it into your mouth. You took a deep breath, unable to deny him when he pleaded so sweetly, before leaning up and taking the metal spoon between your lips. You chewed it slowly, waiting for a foul flavor to attack your tastebuds, but it never came.

“Do you want some more?” You nodded hesitantly, curious to taste the flavor again.

“Is it good?” You took another bite, the warm broth of the soup soothing your throat and coating your insides. You nodded once more, leaning in.

“You know you don’t have to feed me, right? I can do it myself.”

“I know, but I want to. Is that okay?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper as your eyes locked.

“Yes.” A faint smile crept across his face at the admission before he reached the spoon out again and you let the warm liquid caress your tongue.

“Sweet girl, always so strong. I love getting to be here for you like this. Taking care of you when you need me makes me so happy. You know that?” He said, picking the towel up from beside him and wiping it against the corner of your mouth, your lips almost touching from the close proximity. He put the bowl behind him, his soft fingers resting against your face, before lifting your back up slightly and sitting on the cushion beside you. You laid your head against his lap, finally closing the gap between your bodies.

“You worked so hard in the battle yesterday. I knew your body wouldn’t be able to handle all of that stress. Why didn’t you let me just do all of the work, hm?” he asked, as his skin made small, rhythmic circles against yours.

“I want to help you whenever I can. I don’t want to see you get hurt while trying to watch out for me.”

“Do you not think I can multitask?” There was a hint of laughter hidden in his tone.

“I do, but I just don’t want to burden you by making you do so.” The humor in his expression was gone as his gaze searched yours.

“Taking care of you is not a burden to me, in any capacity. You get that, right?”

“Yes…” His eyebrows scrunched together at the response before his palm found the back of your head. He slowly brought your faces closer together. Your heartbeat seemed to stop in your chest as your lips met his. You closed your eyes, melting against his touch before he pulled back without any warning.

“Let me take care of you, hm?” Suddenly, you felt a cool touch beneath the warmth of the blanket as his fingertips danced across your chest, making the hairs on your skin stand up as he trailed them from your collarbones and underneath the fabric of your shirt. His light eyes never left yours, studying every contortion of your face as he continued touching you.

“All you have to do is ask for help, pretty girl.” The words caught in your throat as his fingers tenderly massaged your nipple, twisting it softly back and forth between his fingers nonchalantly. The heat beneath the blanket only grew as you fought against the desire to rub your thighs together.

“I want you to help me, Xavier.” As the words left your mouth, his fingers moved to the other nipple, pinching lightly before continuing the same pattern.

“Aw, do you? You might have to be more specific. How will I know what you need from me unless you say it directly?” Your legs seemed to spread on their own at his words, knees falling apart as your pussy ached from his voice.

“Touch me,” You said, no, whined.

“I’m already touching you, silly girl. Do you not want me to touch you here?” His fingers stilled completely against your heaving chest before they found their way toward your face again.

“Open,” His tone was dark now as his index finger gently tapped against your bottom lip. You immediately let your jaw hang open, sticking your tongue out a little. He slid two of his fingers against your flesh, collecting your spit onto them until they glistened with the wetness as he pulled them back out.

“Tell me where you want my fingers.”

“On my pussy, please.”

“Aw, please?” he said, his tone mocking yours, “My sweet girl, you don’t have to beg. I’ll help you anytime you ask.” Without wasting another second, he slid his hand under the fabric once again, sliding beneath the waistband of your shorts.

“Poor baby, you’re so wet already. Were you too scared to ask for me to take care of you like this?” Your eyes rolled back as his slick fingers ran up and down between your lips.

“You don’t have to be nervous to ask for my help baby. I just want to take care of what belongs to me.” The pad of his thumb made slow small circles on your clit, the wetness causing it to slide around beneath his touch.

“Even this little clit is scared to ask for help, she keeps running away from me.” A low moan fell from your lips, your back arching as you tried to push your hips into his touch.

“Xavier…”

“What is it, princess?”

“I- I need you to make me cum.”

“Aw, what a big girl for me saying what she needs so directly, so cute,” he said before sliding his middle finger inside of you. His thumb continued its movements as he slowly pushed himself in and out, curving his finger slightly, causing even more whines to spill from your lips.

“Is that the spot? Is moving my fingers like that gonna make this tight little pussy cum?” His pace quickened.

“Answer me baby.”

“Yes, yes I’m going to cum.”

“Whose pussy is this?” Your thighs started to clamp together around his arm the faster he slammed into you. His slender digits curled inside of you deeper than you’d felt before.

“Yours Xavier. It’s your pussy.” Another finger forced its way into your hole.

“Aw, pretty girl. Don’t tense up, relax. Let me inside, c’mon princess. Thought you were gonna let me help you, hm?” He stalled his movements, giving your walls time to stretch around him.

“That’s it, calm down. Let that pussy open up a little for me, yeah?” You nodded slowly, lost in anything that he said, the heat between your legs the only things that you could focus on any longer. He began moving his fingers again, hitting that same sweet spot inside of you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Xavier, I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop.”

“Good girl, cum for me. Give it to me. I want you to let go all over my fingers, baby.” You moaned his name, hands reaching to stop his movements as his fingers continued to fuck you through your orgasm, every twitch of his digits overstimulating you.

“Xavier please, I can’t take it anymore.” He slid his other hand beneath the blanket, forcing your thighs apart.

“But I thought you needed me baby? This pussy is still drooling all over my fingers. I have to keep taking care of you until you aren’t scared to ask for my help anymore, hm?” he whispered. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as that same sinister smile stained his face.

♡ a/n: super busy week tragically, senior year of college is kicking my ass smhhhh. sooo since i won't have time to write anything fresh i thought i would post some of my older fics here :))) they are heavily unedited ngl. i'll probably do two others this week since valentine's day is coming up and i won't have anything better to do lmao,, there's one's for the meanie! series for caleb and sylus. anywayyy lotta yapping this time mb,, have a good day angels !!

[justawanderer]

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[maretinelli]

GESTURES OF LOVE

Lando Norris X fem!reader

Summary: When Lando shows his love for his girlfriend in cute little gestures and it makes her heart warm.

Words: 4.4K+

Warnings: Loving Land, mentions of marriage, college Y/n, mentions of teen dating, cute, happy couple, and romantic story

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar, and slang errors that may be present in the story. I love making stories like this, with different situations, if you have any more ideas, please send them to me!! ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

That weekend, Y/n finally had a break from work and university. After tiring weeks, she decided to accompany Lando to a GP, taking the opportunity to spend more time with him.

Lando was beaming with her company, his smile left no doubt that he loved having her there, sharing a little of the world he loved so much.

The day seemed normal for a free practice session, but the city's weather didn't match the lively pace of the pits. The sky was dark, overcast, and the clouds threatened to collapse at any moment.

In the McLaren garage, Lando was getting ready to get into the car, checking some last details with the team. Before that, Y/n had gone out to get coffee for the two of them. She came out excited, greeting and chatting with other girlfriends of the drivers around the paddock.

Time passed too quickly as she laughed and was distracted by conversations, not realizing that the sky was getting even more overcast.

When he finally stopped at the paddock café to get his coffee, the first drops of rain began to fall. Within seconds, the water was pouring down with force, accompanied by thunder and lightning that lit up the sky.

Y/n shivered slightly at the noise, watching the storm take over the environment.

"What a crazy atmosphere, huh?" He commented, while the friendly waitress prepared the coffees.

"I don't think anyone expected this storm now." The woman laughed. "Well, at least you have some time for a hot coffee before training."

Y/n smiled in agreement, but was interrupted by the vibration of the cell phone in her pocket. When she picked up the device, she saw that it was a call from Lando. However, before she could answer, the call dropped. Then, several messages appeared on the screen:

Love💓: Where are you, darling?

Love:💓: How are you?

Love💓: Do you need anything?

She smiled at his concern before answering.

'I'm at the coffee shop! I got distracted talking to the girls and ended up taking a while, but I'm going now.'

Love💓: Stay there. I'm coming to get you.

'Lan, it's raining a lot. I'll wait a little and then come back, you don't need to get all wet.'

But he didn't even see it.

Y/n sighed, shaking her head.

No matter how much Lando said he loved her, she didn't just need to hear the words. She felt it in the small gestures, in the way he always paid attention to her, in the constant affection. And now, in the desperate way he went out to get her in the rain.

Minutes later, she saw a familiar figure walking through the paddock with an umbrella. Her eyes widened when she realized that Lando was practically soaked, even holding the umbrella.

As soon as he approached the coffee shop, Y/n came out and waited under the small balcony.

"You should have stayed inside, you crazy woman." Lando said, laughing when he saw her. "I'm here to rescue you, like a knight in armor searching for his princess in the castle."

She laughed, and when he held out his hand to help her down the two front steps, she held on tight, joining him under the umbrella.

The rain had calmed down a bit, but thunder still cut through the sky. As they walked back to the garage, Y/n held the two cups of coffee while Lando kept an arm around her shoulders, better protecting her from the rain.

"You really didn't have to come," she murmured. "I was going to come, love. Now you're all wet."

Lando smirked. "And leaving my girlfriend alone out there in the rain like this? Never."

She smiled, leaning against his shoulder as they walked together.

When they reached the garage, he dropped the umbrella in a corner and took her hand, guiding her to the pilot's room. Inside, Y/n placed the coffees on the table and began to tell him about the waitress at the coffee shop.

"She's very nice, Lan. In fact, she's studying the same course as me at university." She said, turning to look at Lando. "Of course, not at the same university because she doesn't live in Monaco." She laughed a little.

But he was busy rummaging through a suitcase until he pulled out some dry shirts and coats. Holding the pieces of clothing, he walked over to her and held them out.

"Change your clothes." He said simply. "You might catch a cold."

Y/n's eyes widened, laughing. "Lan... you're soaked! Look at you!"

In fact, he was completely soaking wet. His curls were streaming down his forehead, his McLaren papaya T-shirt looked a shade darker from the water, and a drop of rain slid down his cheek as he smiled at her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He chuckled, noticing her stare. "Want a kiss?" Lando smirked.

Y/n shook her head, laughing and ignoring her boyfriend's teasing flirting. She just ruffled his slightly brown curls.

"You're the one who needs dry clothes here."

"I'll change right away," he insisted, still holding the clothes out for her.

Y/n sighed and picked up the clothes, but first asked: "Do you have any extra pieces for you too?"

Lando hesitated for a second before admitting, "No... But I'll put on the jumpsuit soon and, as soon as we get back to the hotel, we'll take a hot shower."

"Then I won't change. My clothes only have a few stains on them, and I can take off my sneakers and let them dry. You, on the other hand..."

Lando smiled and leaned closer, leaving a soft kiss on her cheek. "I just want you to stay warm. I know you get cold easily."

She smiled at his affection. She sighed and accepted the clothes, but before going to change, she warned: "Okay, but when we get to the hotel, I'll be the one who will take care of you."

"Fair enough." Lando chuckled, leaning in to kiss her.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n was at university, and Lando, taking advantage of his break from racing, was at their apartment. With free time, he decided to take care of the kittens they had, unpack the suitcase from their last trip and clean the place a little so that, when she arrived, she could just relax.

While organizing some things, my cell phone vibrated with a message from her.

Amore mio❤️: Honey, I'm going to have to stay here a little longer... The teacher decided to extend today's class, since he won't be able to come next week.

'Okay, honey. Did you bring anything to eat? Or do you have your card?'

Amore mio❤️: I forgot my lunch bag on the table... But if I feel hungry, I'll buy something in the cafeteria.

Lando looked at the table and there was her small bag of snacks. He rolled his eyes, smiling. It was typical of her to forget things when she was in a hurry.

He looked at his watch. It was already past lunch time and, knowing Y/n well, he knew she wouldn't buy anything because she would be too busy studying. With an amused sigh, he picked up his bag and decided to take it to her.

Leaving the apartment, he got into his car and drove through the streets of Monaco. It was a beautiful day, with the sun reflecting off the crystal clear waters of the harbor. The narrow, charming streets were busy, but he drove calmly, lost in his own thoughts.

He and Y/n had been together since they were teenagers. They met in high school, when he still dreamed of becoming a Formula 1 driver and she was already talking about working in the health field. Since then, Lando had done small things for her—like sharing his snack when she forgot, stopping by the market after school to buy her favorite sweets, or simply giving her his coat on cold days. For him, these were simple things. For her, they were demonstrations of love that meant everything.

Upon arriving at the campus, Lando parked the car and headed to the block where Y/n's course rooms were located. She was in an area with tables and benches, laughing with her friends as they reviewed something for class.

He stopped for a moment and watched her from afar. Even when she was focused, she still found time to laugh and interact with her friends, and that made him smile. The driver had always admired the way she balanced everything with ease. Relationships, work, university, friends, home, family who lived in another country and accompanying Lando to the races when she could.

For Norris, she was definitely his superhero.

Y/n's friends soon noticed him, but didn't say anything. She, with her back to him, continued talking, oblivious to his presence. Lando approached silently and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"If you're going to scare me, forget it." Y/n grumbled before even turning around, frowning slightly.

"Apparently it worked a little." Lando chuckled.

She turned around quickly, ready to retort, but when she saw it was him, her face lit up with a smile. Without hesitation, she hugged him tightly.

“What are you doing here, Lan?"

He kissed her cheek before answering, and her friends cooed, making them both laugh. Then, he held up the bag of snacks.

"I have a special delivery for a person who forgets things."

Y/n smiled, shaking her head. "You're the best."

"I know." He winked. "But seriously, you wouldn't survive on just the breakfast and granola bars in your backpack."

"I love you, you know?" She bit her lip, knowing he was right.

"I think I can hear that again." He smiled.

Y/n laughed and pulled Lando into a kiss. Her friends cheered playfully, and he smiled into the kiss. While Y/n blushed slightly.

"Do you want to stay here for a while?" She asked as they walked away. "I still have time before my next class."

"Sure, honey." He sat down next to her on the bench and soon began chatting with his friends, whom he had known for a long time. Most of them had even studied with them in high school and had been friends since then.

While he was chatting animatedly, Y/n opened her bag to get her snack. It was then that she noticed a small note folded on top of the fruit bowls and the sandwich.

"I don't want you to go hungry because you were busy saving lives before you even graduated. Eat right, okay? I love you. Lan❤️"

Her smile grew, and her cheeks heated. She tried to hide it, but her best friend, sitting across from her, noticed it right away.

"Look who's blushing!!"

Y/n rolled her eyes but laughed.

Looking at Lando, who was still talking absentmindedly, she felt her heart warm. The love she felt for him was not just because of the time they had been together, but because of the way he always showed that he cared, in the little details. She had loved him since they were friends, and when they started dating, that feeling only grew. Every day, with every gesture, with every note, she fell more in love.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n walked into the house, taking off her shoes and letting out a tired sigh, but with an excited smile on her face.

"You won't believe what happened today!" She began, walking straight to the kitchen as Lando followed her with interest.

"Surprise me!" Lando said with a smile, leaning against the counter as he watched her open the fridge.

"The teacher just decided that he won't teach us anymore and finished all the content today!!" She explained, picking up some fruit and starting to prepare a juice.

Lando frowned. "Seems kind of unfair, doesn't it? Like, you guys have to fight to know everything in one day?"

Y/n to them.

"Basically!! But it was actually good, I had time to review a lot of things... And wouldn't you know it, the guys decided to have a competition to see who could remember the most details from the class, AND I WON!" Y/n said in a tone of voice like a child who had just received a long-awaited gift.

Lando laughed and raised an eyebrow in amazement. He loved that even though they were twenty-five, she sometimes told him the news like a six-year-old. It was one of his thousand favorite things.

"Of course you won. My favorite nerd." He joked, earning a look of mock indignation from her as he poured the juice into two glasses.

"I prefer 'a brain incredibly capable of holding everything', but thanks." She said, handing him one of the cups.

Lando chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Fair enough. And did you get anything to eat while you were out there so late?"

"Ah, so... I even stopped by the markets near the university before heading home, because I had a crazy desire to eat pistachio ice cream, but I couldn't find any." Y/n commented casually, drinking the rest of the juice and going to wash the glass.

Lando made a thoughtful sound. "Pistachio ice cream? That's a new one."

"Yeah, I saw it on Instagram and I wanted to." She said, smiling at him. "Anyway, I'm going to take a quick shower, and then we can continue yesterday's series, okay?"

"Of course, I'll wait for you on the couch." Lando replied, already imagining that that 'quickie' was far from the truth.

She leaned in to kiss his cheek, but at the last second, Lando turned his face and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Y/n giggled against his lips, but kissed him back without hesitation.

When they broke apart, she ran her fingers through his hair and murmured. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Lando smiled, but as soon as she got into the shower, an idea took hold of him. Grabbing his car keys, he left the apartment determined to find that pistachio ice cream.

He knew Y/n well enough to know that, even if she didn't give it much thought afterwards, she still wanted it. And he would do anything to see that satisfied smile on her face.

At the second market he visited, he found exactly what he was looking for. He bought three large jars and drove back home, eager to surprise her.

When she entered the apartment, she heard the sound of the wardrobe doors opening; she had probably just gotten out of the shower and was changing.

Putting two jars in the fridge, he grabbed two spoons and settled down on the sofa, putting on the series they were watching together.

From the hallway, he heard her voice as she tried to apply moisturizer to her arms.

"I swear I'll never understand why these bottles are so hard to open when your hand is wet." Y/n grumbled, focused on the task at hand as she walked to the living room.

As soon as she walked in, she found Lando smiling at her, holding a tub of ice cream out towards her.

"Look what mysteriously appeared in our apartment." He said, an amused glint in his eyes.

Y/n's eyes widened and she walked over to him, taking the spoon he held out. "You're kidding!"

Lando laugh.

"No kidding. I left while you were in the shower and found it at the market nearby."

She opened the jar and looked at it with a mixed expression of surprise and tenderness. "You flatter me too much."

"It's not my fault I like seeing you happy." Lando replied with a smirk.

Tasting the ice cream, Y/n closed her eyes in pure delight. "OMG, this is perfect!!"

Lando laughed when he saw her so pleased.

She then gave a mischievous smile. "Our future children will be the most spoiled in the world. With a father who goes out at night to buy pistachio ice cream for their mother, imagine what he will do for them."

Lando gave a thoughtful expression. "Well, if they pull their mother's leg, they'll probably convince me to do anything. I'm screwed."

Y/n laughed and leaned back against him, still enjoying every spoonful.

Lando put the episode on TV, but his attention was always on his girlfriend. He smiled every time she made a face of pleasure while eating her ice cream.

Y/n felt loved in every little gesture he made. Ever since their school days, Lando had always found ways to take care of her, even when she didn't realize she needed it.

And despite all the teasing, she knew that their future babies would be lucky because they would have a daddy as caring and helpful as the man by her side.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n and Lando had a natural way of balancing each other's differences. She loved quiet nights watching TV and baking, and he did that with her without hesitation complain. In the same way, he liked parties and events, and Y/n, even though she felt a little anxious in crowded places, made an effort to accompany him to all of them.

Lando had always been aware of her discomfort in crowds. When they went to parties, he made sure to keep one hand on her waist, making sure she felt safe, while the other held a glass.

That night, they were at a party with Max and Pietra. Y/n was talking excitedly with Pietra about a reality show they were watching, while Lando and Max talked about news from Quadrant.

When Max and Pietra left to get more drinks, Lando leaned close to Y/n's ear.

"Is everything okay?" He asked in a low tone, making sure only she could hear.

"Comfortable?"

"I am, love." She smiled reassuringly.

Lando nodded, but kept his eyes peeled for any sign of discomfort.

"Come dance with me?" Y/n asked suddenly, her eyes shining with anticipation.

"Now?" Lando smiled, loving to see her letting loose.

"NOW!!" She said, pulling his hand and lightly dragging him back.

Norris chuckled, downing the rest of his drink before setting the glass down on the table and following her. He shifted his position, standing in front of her and gently holding her hand as he excused himself to a few people along the way. The last thing he wanted was for someone to bump into him.

When they reached the dance floor, a song they both knew started playing. Y/n smiled, moving her body to the rhythm of the music. Lando pulled her by the waist, moving alongside her, but his attention was focused on admiring her smile and the way her eyes sparkled.

When the song ended and a new one began, he leaned in again to speak close to her ear.

"Do you want to get some air outside?"

Y/n fixed the collar of his shirt, which was slightly up, and smiled. "Not yet. But thanks for asking."

Lando smiled back and murmured against her hair, "I'll always be here to take care of you."

And then, they went back to where they were before and found Max and Pietra, who had already returned with the drinks.

They continued to chat animatedly, but Lando remained attentive. They had a code for when Y/n needed a break—a double squeeze of his hand meant it was time to leave.

Even without her giving the signal, Lando noticed small signs of discomfort: the way she fidgeted with the strap of her dress, the way her gaze became more distant for a few seconds. Then, without needing her to ask, he leaned close to her ear.

"Come with me, just a minute."

Without question, Y/n took his hand, and he led her to a quiet terrace. As soon as she felt the cool air against her skin, she closed her eyes and smiled, taking a deep breath.

Lando hugged her from behind and kissed her neck gently. "You're doing well, love. But you don't have to stay here for me, okay? We can go anytime. I'm with you!"

She opened her eyes and turned her head slightly to look at him. "I know. But I like being with you, even if parties aren't really my thing."

The pilot smiled, warming to her words. They sat in silence for a while, watching the city lights below.

"Do you think if I let go of my glass from here it will fall straight down or fly away?"

"If you do that, I'll pretend I don't know you." Y/n raised an eyebrow.

He laughed, still hugging her. Her hands were on his, which were resting on her waist. Y/n sighed in relief, resting her head on his chest.

Lando nuzzled his face into her neck, murmuring softly.

"I love you."

She smiled, feeling her heart warm. "I know. Because I love you too!"

"I love everything about you." Lando continued. "From the first time I saw you in my class in high school, I knew you were special to me."

"We didn't even talk properly that first week." Y/n chuckled softly.

"But I knew," he insisted. "And then you stood by me at the beginning of my career, always believing in me, always supporting me. You are my peace before every race, my confidence before I get in the car. Every time you're around, I feel at home."

She blinked a few times, feeling her eyes well up. An emotional smile formed on her lips.

A lone tear ran down her face, and Lando wiped it away with his thumb.

"I love you so much." Y/n whispered. "But sometimes, I can't even put it into words..."

He kissed her forehead tenderly. "But I feel it. Because, even though you don't see it, you care for me as much as I care for you."

Y/n smiled, knowing he was right. Lando began to list little things she did without realizing it: cooking his favorite dish every time he got back from a trip, sending him motivational messages, holding his hand before races to ease his anxiety. And gosh, she learned how to make his mother's recipes so he wouldn't miss Cisca's cooking so much.

"I love you." Y/n smiles. "So much, so much, so much, and so...much!"

Lando chuckled and leaned in to kiss her.

The kiss started softly, tenderly. Y/n's hands went up to the back of his neck, pulling him slightly closer. Lando deepened the kiss delicately, moving his lips against hers slowly, savoring the moment. His thumb caressed the soft skin of her face, conveying every bit of affection he felt.

When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers and smiled.

"Shall we go home?"

Y/n nodded, still smiling.

Lando laced his fingers through hers as they walked out, ready to spend the rest of the night on the couch with her—and, who knows, maybe with a coffee to cure both of their hangovers.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lando and Y/n were spending their holidays in the UK, in the city where they grew up and where their families still lived. It was a peaceful time for both of them, a time of rest and nostalgia, surrounded by the streets that held so many memories of childhood and adolescence.

On that cold afternoon, they walked hand in hand through the park that meant so much to both of them. The icy wind announced the possibility of snow in the coming days, and the smell of winter hung in the air. They were dressed in matching warm coats, and Y/n kept her hands intertwined with Lando's.

"I still can't believe I'm going into my final year of college." Y/n commented, looking at the path ahead. "It seems like yesterday that I started, and now we're already talking about the future more calmly... It's going to be good to be able to spend more time at home and eventually start working for real."

Lando looked at his girlfriend in amazement. With a soft smile, he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and chuckled softly when he saw a small leaf fall on her head.

"What is it?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"There was a leaf on your head," the pilot replied, laughing as he removed it.

Y/n laughed too, squeezing his hand lightly before they continued walking. As they walked, they talked about the latest races, her plans for when they returned to Monaco, and even ideas for future trips.

Halfway through the journey, Lando suddenly stopped in the middle of a bridge, where the view of the park was even more beautiful. The trees swayed gently in the wind, some dry leaves fell, making the scenery even more nostalgic.

"Why did we stop?"

Lando looked at her with a gleam in his eyes. "Don't you remember this place?"

She frowned for a moment, looking around, until her eyes widened in realization.

"It was here..." She murmured, a smile growing on her lips. "It was here that you asked me to be your girlfriend."

Lando smiled and nodded, moving closer to let her closer to him. Y/n rested her hand on the railing of the bridge, admiring the view, but soon turned her gaze back to him.

Lando gently ran his hand over her cheek before speaking, "I know a lot of people say I'm taking too long to propose..." She rolled her eyes but laughed. "But I always say the boss doesn't want it right now..."

Y/n lightly slapped his chest, laughing. "Not quite!"

Lando laughed along, taking her hand again.

"I know we agreed that we would do this after you finished college." He said fondly. "So... if I ask you out again, will you accept?"

She frowned in confusion for a second, until she saw him take a small box out of his pocket. Opening it, she revealed two brand new rings.

"Yes, Lan, I accept. I always will, you know!" Y/n smiled.

"I took advantage of the fact that we're here to renew our engagement rings... because, honestly, mine is already all crooked on my finger." He joked.

Y/n laughed out loud. "Well, mine is kind of crooked too." She admitted.

Lando took her hand, sliding the old ring off and studying her for a moment before joking, "That should be considered a crime already."

Y/n laughed and did the same with his, exchanging the old rings for the new ones. When they finished, each one held the other's old ring.

"What are we going to do with these?" She asked, looking at the ring in her palm.

"We can play in the river. Like a ritual, you know? But in a cute way." Lando smirked.

"I feel bad about throwing it away..." Y/n hesitated, holding the ring carefully.

Lando cupped her face gently, looking into her eyes. "We're not throwing them away, love. They were part of our history, but now we have new ones. And in a few months, you'll have an even more special one. A brilliant engagement ring."

Y/n's eyes lit up at the idea. She smiled, feeling her heart warm.

"Okay then. Let's do this together."

They looked at each other and counted down before dropping the rings into the river at the same time. They watched for a few seconds until Lando laughed.

"Will any fish find and marry our rings?"

Y/n laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. "Well, I hope they're at least fish who really love each other."

Lando chuckled before pulling her into a passionate kiss.

The kiss started out slow and delicate, but soon became more intense and full of feelings. Lando's hands held her face tenderly, while Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Their lips moved in unison perfect harmony, as if time had stopped for that moment. The cold around them didn't seem to matter, as there was a cozy warmth between the two.

When they pulled away, Lando rested his forehead against hers, smiling. "I love you. And I can't wait to call you my wife one day."

Months later, when they returned to the city for their mid-year vacation, Lando took her back to that same bridge. With a sparkle in his eyes and a shiny ring in his hand, he proposed, sealing another chapter of their story in the very place where it all began.

[grubus]

Hi! do you have any svsss fic recs? I really like syonr and I'm curious about what you like to read!

*rubs hands together*

Alright alright. Now some of these are probably already well known, but still!!

I make no secret of this, but as Prim is my favorite author and very cool friend, I will HAPPILY recommend these first;

Masochism is probably THE qijiu fic of all time, absolutely adore it. It's set in their disciple era, with YQY just grabbing at whatever scraps he can even as SQQ tries to push the boundaries and see what will make him BREAK. So, so good. Happy ending!

Tarnished Gold is my favorite original Binghe fic, and I hope more people give it a chance. I think the summary scare some but it's GREAT! I love it! Binghe's thought process, the way someone perceives SY as GYX from an outside perspective, and omg LPM is such a great character in it...

of course I recommend basically everything Prim writes.

(Shen Yuan Voice) It's not gay if- by Nachtofthedead is porn. Just straight up modern time BingYuan porn. It is filthy and great and *thumbs up* love it. Bingge decides to play along with SY's delulu thoughts on gayness and everyone are happy.

The Many Trials and Tribulations of Ming Fan by The Feels Whale (miscellea) is great and I think often overlooked. A oneshot from MF's point of view on how to handle SQQ's wife beam, deeply funny to me. They also wrote-

Dust and Broken Grains , which is basically "Binghe discovers early that Crying Works" and it becomes a fix-it fic. but there's more to it than that!!! Love it a lot.

Celestial Afterglow by elanor_pam is just. So good. SO GOOD. It's hilarious, it uses the System in a way few fics ever does and it has me cackling every time I read it.

What Is Seen by CaveteDracones is a fix-it with a side of whump fic, where SQQ's trial at HHP goes VERY differently. Truth serum! Torture! System Reveal! Yay!

Dual Cultivate or Date by acernor is THE BingLiuShen fic out there. Adore it. I'm sure many have already appreciated it, but it doesn't hurt to remind others that it exists!

A Child Once by Tossawary is a very, very good BingQiu and MoShang fic, and I honestly love not only BingQiu being forced to play parents, but also the MobeiBing friendship? Great, amazing. All the relationships in this is great, and I know most have heard of Tossawary but if you haven't given this specific fic a chance you SHOULD.

easy fix by airplanelanding (TheCourtSorcerer) is a smutty cumplane oneshot, where they are friends with benefits (approved by their husbands) for whenever said husbands are unavailable for Dual Cultivation Cure. This fic just really captures the snark and is also *chefs kiss*

with the tail of the snake by tciddaemina is a very, very good monsterfucker!SQQ fic where Binghe became a dragon in the abyss. I LOVE IT. It's a WIP, but *clenches fist* it's just so good. Soft and gooey and so HHHH yes good. I would probably put all their svsss fics in here but I am running out of time!!

.... but I have enough time to recommend my other favorite fic from them, which isn't even svsss! And is how I found them to begin with!

come all ye mighty is a Solo Leveling fic! It's Igris/Jinwoo, from Igris' pov, and I love the world building in it. As they say in the author's notes, it's a little bit of an au since it doesn't follow the original plot of the comic, but I reread this so, so often. 10/10, if you like solo leveling at all please give it a go I BEG OF YOU.

[enwoso]

REGRET IT LATER. | alessia russo 🔞

first ever smut fic, dunno how i feel about it. definitely not the best but i tried! maybe the last smut i write, maybe not x

masterlist | SMUT MDNI 18+

"alessia, we shouldn't-"

"save your regret for later, baby," she cut you off quickly finding your lips and pulling you in for a sloppy kiss.

pinned against the wall, her muscular body pressed against your own. you knew salvation wouldn't come. there wasn't anything, no force of nature that could stop what was bound to happen. that could stop the two of you.

"we're going to regret this tomorrow," you mumbled between the kiss, your voice was hoarse and low, panting. your mind starting to sober up just that little bit as you remembered where you were and who you were with.

"god sake, darling. can you shut your mouth for a second?" she asked with a small smirk, her breath sparse as her hands roamed your body. pinching and poking at any bit of skin they could find. and with the skimpy outfit you were wearing it didn't take much finding.

"always so snappy. wanting to have the last word, control everything.." as the taunting words left alessia's mouth, her right hand started moving painfully slowly.

from your neck to your collarbones, to the valley of your breasts, to your lower belly - applying just enough pressure to hear that small whine slip from your lips once again.

to be able to hear you lose control, losing your morals and everything she had ever believed to of happened between them.

"let go" she whispered so sweetly in your ear, her plump lips brushing against your ear and gently biting your earlobe. "let go my love, i'll take care of you. i promise"

everything was a mess. this wasn't the moment nor the place for it to happen. you weren't even supposed to do as much as look at her - not after the way everything went down between the two of you.

but something about her in a mini skirt and strapless top showing just enough cleavage that you couldn't help but stare, the intoxication smell of her expensive perfume and that goddam smile of hers that makes every thought in your head disappear, being guided by something so basic that you had yet to understand.

"its a.. a fucking club bathroom. anyone could come in?" alessia just groaned, beginning to get annoyed and frustrated. she knew she'd chosen the only girl who wouldn't want her tonight - but she also knew that was merely a facade.

if you thought she hadn't noticed your lingering stared as you sipped slowly at your drink, the way you would hold your breath next to her whenever you were caught slightly by surprise and the desire in your eyes — you couldn't have been more further from being right.

"let them fucking come in, they'll see me and leave in the same instant. i don’t fucking care if- i'll deal with my behaviour tomorrow." she said, staring into your eyes, her tone firm as she reached up to move a strand a hair from out of your face.

"let me take care of you. i know you need it baby. you forget i know you like the back of my hand."

you opened your mouth to come up with some smart retort but she was quicker. alessia's hands went to the back of you thighs, so effortlessly pulling you and lifting you off the ground with ease.

guiding you to the sink countertop and gently placing you there - maybe the only gentle act of the night.

"the more you make those smart lips work the more i'll want to shut you up." she warned with a husky tone, her finger resting lightly on your chin to make you were looking at her.

"and that'll just make me tease you more and not give you what i know you want." you gulped and gave her a small nod although your head hardly moved. you'd never say it out loud, never give her the pleasure of agreeing with her.

you were being difficult but she wouldn't have it any other way. after all alessia was more than happy with the challenge of making you scream her name to prove otherwise.

"good," she said, her thumb tracing your bottom lip as you looked at her. uncertainty, desire and frustration placed behind your heavy eyelids. she could see all of it,

"you're so pretty." alessia whispered, her mouth so close to yours that you could feel her breath. "wouldn't want you to spend the night without anyone else." she paused for a moment, "it'd fucking kill me, darling."

you could barely remember how you'd ended up in the bathroom. how you'd gone from barely being able to look at the blonde to being this close in the span of a few hours.

you knew you'd drank as much as her - the two of you wouldn't be there otherwise, wouldn’t be pinned up only inches away for each other. not when you've claimed to hate each other in past year.

if the two of you were in the right minds, you wouldn't even be in the same room as her.

you remember having a man hit on you as you sat waiting at the bar for your drunk. sure he was attractive for sure but nothing would make you give him any attention.

you remember taking a sip of your cocktail, only just getting your lips around the rim of the glass when alessia abruptly took it out of your hand when she wasn't even that close a few moments before.

her tight grip on your wrist, not enough to hurt you but enough to keep it there as she guided you away from man hitting on you at the bar which was something you could forget.

"what the fuck are you doing alessia?" you asked her with annoyance as she guided you to a more secluded spot. a scowl appearing on your face as you looked back at your overly priced cocktail you'd just bought, not even getting a chance to have a taste of the colourful drink.

"taking you away from that fucking weirdo that was eating you with his eyes-" she retorted, the anger clear in her tone as you took the moment to look at her. and god, you hated admitting it but she did look so good in a such skimpy clothes.

"i'm sorry? but since when did you feel entitled to control my life in any way whatsoever?" you asked with a sarcastic smile, annoyed at her attitude.

the blondes eyebrow quirked as her hands stayed firmly on you, “if you think for one second i’d let you leave the club with that guy with someone that’s not even close to your level-“

she stopped once she realised what she’d said. licking her lips as she sighed, her hands letting go from you as they lingered near you as you looked at her with confusion.

“enlighten me? who is close to my level, then?” you asked with crossed arms, tilting your head. alessia just gave that small, confident grin that she always had.

thank god for her drinks cause only then would she have had the courage to retort you so easily.

“who do you think, darling?”

after that, it was all blurry. a mix of tongues against each other, the taste of her strong drink, her sweet perfume as her hands pulled you closer.

the anger, the frustration, the desire - until stumbling upon the bathroom as they had no other option when lust controlled then the way it did, so easily and effortlessly.

the feeling of the cold tiles of the countertop and alessia's confession brought you back to the moment as you looked into her bright blue eyes.

"i wasn't going to leave with him" you admitted lowly as your eyes falling to her mouth. so, so close that you could remember the taste of them, "i wasn't going to leave with anyone."

alessia seemed rather pleased by your response, her body finding a way to be even closer to yours. despite the two of you being adamant in past months on the fact your hated each other; it was always the same - like magnets being drawn.

all they had been doing, this whole time was prolonging the inevitable. and to be quite honest? alessia was fucking sick of it. 

"good." she whispered, her hand slowly travelling to the inside of your thighs, dangerously close to your warmth as you bit your lip holding back the best you could the whimper that was so likely to slip from your lips.

a grin appeared on her lips at the sight. it was almost as if you were already coming undone from a single and simple movement.

"wouldn't want anyone but me to have the privilege." you looked up through hazy eyes at alessia, suddenly realising how tall she was. how easily she was towering over you and the fact you could barely see past her shoulders.

and with a sudden movement your arms were now resting on her shoulders caressing them.

"need you to say it's mine, darling. can you do that for me, hm?" she whispered in your ear, alessia half expecting a tantrum or a bratty remark to fall from your lips.

but her fingers were too close to your core for her to even come up with something smart.

"that what is yours?" was the best your foggy mind could come up with, you acting so innocent despite the way your voice cracked.

alessia in response only looked deeply into your eyes as she pressed two fingers over your clothed warmth, feeling the dampness which had formed.

"that this is mine." she spoke lowly as she pressed her fingers even harder earning a sharp gasp from you, your eyelids shut as you were trying to hold yourself back. gather up any self control that was left.

"i- its, y-yours" you stuttered out as your brain fogged over again more concentrated on what her fingers where doing then the question she had asked.

alessia thought about demanding you to speak louder but it was already so much more than she had expected you to say.

her middle finger tossed your underwear to the side so effortlessly as her index finger was already moving over to your clit with enough pressure, in slow circle motions.

"so wet already, baby. all that denial and for what?" alessia chuckled lightly as if she was taunting you as if her one underwear wasn't already feeling extremely wet.

"tell me what you want, love."

you sighed loudly. you'd been holding back for so long that you decided that it wasn't the time to play around anymore.

"w-want you to fuck me," you said, looking into her bright blue eyes which were slightly darker than usual in a silent plea. and who was she to ever deny you of anything when you were looking at her like that?

she inserted two digits into your core, moving them around your walls, trying to know which spot pleasured you the most just from the way your face twisted and the way your eyes would screw shut.

you felt so warm and looked so desperate that the pool of wetness in her own underwear was becoming even more apparent - if that was possible.

"wish i could just have you to myself all the time" she whispered in your ear as her fingers began to stretch you in ways you hadn't felt in a long time - probably not since the last time you were in this position with the blonde.

her fingers dragging slowly as she pumped them inside you, drawing gasps from you with each one. small whimpers fell from your lips as alessia chuckled against your ear. you clenching around her fingers, knowing exactly what was going on inside your head.

eager and impatient, you moved your hips. alessia adding another finger into you as you so desperately chased a release as you adjusted to the extra finger stretching you that little bit further as she pumped her fingers inside you.

alessia gave you some time to get used to the extra finger but as your whimpers started to get needier she speeded up. "shit." she mumbled in your ear, trying her best not to go too hard and fast as she littered small kisses to your neck.

you clenched around her fingers, whimper and moaning her name like it was the only word you ever knew not bothering anymore to hide a single sound. it was driving  her insane.

"you feel so, so good,"

"alessia," you called out, your eyes shut. she thought it was the prettiest sight she's ever seen. your hair all messy, wrinkles in your freshly ironed clothes as you panted all desperate. if she wasn't in the same state, she would be taunting you.

usually that was how she was. but for some reason, it was different with you. she needed to be inside you. she didn't even release when her fingers which were thrusting inside your harder and more erratically.

she only knew as you'd began to moan her name more often, louder. moaning her name more often, and louder.

when she accidentally hit your sweet spot, you saw stars behind your eyes. the bright lights in the club bathroom were long gone. your back was arched as your eyes rolled.

god, if you had more of this, you would drool. everything you'd ever known had gone, your head was empty. you couldn't think - especially not when she was slamming her fingers into your walls like that.

"less, i-i'm.." you clenched tightly around her fingers as she moaned.

“i know baby,” alessia cooed, as you were panting. she wanted to make you cum, take care of you as you came down from your high.

you didn’t know how much more you could go, “cum for me love, you’ve been such a good girl, taking my fingers so well. go on”

it felt slightly that she was ordering than praising, but as soon as you cummed, her fingers stilled before helping you to ride out your orgasm before pulling them out, her fingers being slick of your juices.

“fuck,” alessia said, trying her best to grab for air as his head fell to lean on your shoulder, as she caressed you softly. even though you were both a mess and could barely breathe, alessia was still making sure you were ok. littering small kisses to your jaw as she spilled small praises in your ear.

you breathing starting to come back as alessia stared into your eyes, you looking at her with a dopey smile, a smirk appearing on alessia’s face, “since i think we’re over the hatred stage, how about i take you home and we show each other how much we really love each other..”

[syluriar]

please...help me - sylus x mc!reader. part 2

sypnosis: the aftermath of caleb catching you on the phone to escape him.

a/n: part 2 is finally here!! i apologise that this took me awhile, i just wanted this chapter to be right and i feel good about it now. there will be a part 3 to this, not sure about part 4 but we'll see how this goes.

warnings: some angst but with comfort. caleb being possessive and genually confused why you want to leave. mc (you) finally letting your fustrations out. sylus appears. caleb gets punched :) not for caleb girlies (sorry!)

word count: 3091 (insert spongebob exhausted meme)

taglist: @eternityjune @swissschees3 @notomyrr @jilly-xox7 @mizunareader @monticarlo @leiakitty @wiiieeeeeee @lynnaredfield3383 @idrkgurr @cms399 @ladycrown109 @capribun @crimsonlittlecrow @bi-goth-energy @rik0shii @letharue @sylusjinxedpaw @mcdepressed290 @kaeyasfuturewife @magicatemyvanishingdreams @deethedolly @beautifulthingsiadore @katykibbs @futuristicdefendorfart @qinluna @lemonn015 @magpie-the-goblin-girl @beewilko @thechaoticarchivist @aikonecrosis @gianchan-de @gamergirl31201 i think that's everyone? i apologise if i forget to tag you, there was a lot of people who wanted to be tagged which makes me fell so happy - thank u!!

When was the last time you ever felt this scared?

Perhaps your first time facing a real Wanderer? That time you had a creep not taking no for an answer when you were alone in a nightclub? Or maybe that time where you were walking alone and came across a thief with a weapon? 

But you had overcome them. The Wanderer died by your pistols, the creep getting punched in the face by your fists and thrown out by security, and the thief getting it’s weapon knocked out of it’s hand by you and arrested by the police moments later. 

The adrenaline that had rushed through you pushed it all away within those moments, and it was only after you had reflected on the experience that almost had you buckle your knees and grab the nearest thing to keep you standing, your heart bounding and your thoughts and absolute mess. It had taken you a while to calm down and look back on those moments without fear, and instead of what you had accomplished.

Unlike right now.

“Still not talking?”

You hadn’t spoken a word to Caleb after he caught you ending the call with Sylus, begging him to come and save you from the man you once felt safe and secure with. 

The tracker on your wrist reminds you of anything but those feelings and more.

Caleb sighs from his seated position in the kitchen and stands, the sound of his footsteps getting closer to you fills you with dread. He seats himself on the edge of the coffee table in front of you and you instantly move back so his feet don’t touch you, your eyes finding a spot on the floor to stare at.

He chuckles. “You won't even look at me, how mean of you.”

Retorts sit on your tongue that you hold still. Your already deep in trouble, you don’t want to know what will happen if you fall more. 

By the corner of your eyes you see him angle his head to try and catch your eyes, but you look away quickly. What would you see in them? Pity? Annoyance? Anger? Even if it was soft, you wouldn’t fall for it, your not that naive anymore.

You gasp as he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, his told had a certain tightness to it that could choke you in seconds - you wouldn’t put it past him to do it, though it still scares you to know that.

“There we go.” He smiles, and everything about it screams it’s not the one from the past, the warm one you remember. “Now all that's left is for you to talk, but since you won’t do that, I guess I have to play a little guessing game.”

It doesn’t matter, you think. He can guess all he likes and you won’t answer him. Let’s see how he likes to be the one ignored now.

“Now who would you be calling at this hour when everyone is asleep, like you should have been.” There’s a mocking tone in his voice that makes you want to punch him. It should have made you worried about doing such a thing to someone you saw as a friend, but all you saw in front of you was a creature that enjoyed your torture. 

“It can’t be your dear Dr. Zayne, he’s too busy and has things far too important then calling you.”

It hurt you a little to hear Caleb talking about Zayne like that, the three of you had a good friendship growing up, it had amused you of the little arguments they would get into. You knew that no matter what happened you would always have them to fall back on and pick you back up. Zayne had greatly helped you ever since you thought Caleb had died, and the thought of the three of you being back together made your heart warm when you found Caleb again. 

How unfortunate that wouldn’t happen.

“Someone the Hunters Association? Hmmm possibly. But who exactly?” Caleb tapped his chin with his other hand, your chin still firmly held by his other that it was starting to ache. “No one there can come in here and sneak you out without anyone onboard knowing, even if a team banded together. So let’s rule that out.”

He clearly underestimated your Association. You might not know everyone there, but the only reason those people have been made Hunters is because they have the power to do so, they’ve all been through the hard training it takes and passed. You remember all the training you had to do and your sure Caleb does too, as you had called him after sessions, complaining about it all and the aches and bruises on your body.

“You keep complaining about it but I never hear you say that you’re gonna leave.”

“Of course I'm not! Quitting would mean that I’m not cut out to be a Hunte. You’ve said I am so many times, do you not think it anymore?”

“Not at all. I believe in you more than anyone that you’ll pass, and become the world's greatest Hunter.”

“Ok, not that much Caleb.”

He laughed then, full of warmth and joy. “Just keep going Pip-squeak, and before you know it, you’ve passed and got your license. Just don’t forget about me when you're off saving everyone from Wanderers, ok?” 

Does he still believe in you now? Do you even want to know? You’re still surprised he hasn’t told you to leave them and just stay with him.

“I guess that only leaves one other place.” He muses, and you feel like he’s close to the answer.

Just don’t react. Don’t let him know.

“But would you really call someone from there? And who? There’s not many good people in the N109 Zone.”

Your face remains neutral as Caleb scans it for any signs and frowns when there isn’t any. You hide your pride at this, though it probably thanks to him that your learning to mask your emotions well.

“Actually, scratch that, there’s no good people in that place. Illegal dealings and filled with violence and crime, there no better than Wanderers. Infact, I bet they’re worse than Wanderers. At least those creatures were someone innocent before turning, people in the N109 Zone have been black-hearted since the start. Like true monsters.”

You swing your cuffed wrists to smack him but they’re quickly caught in his free hand, a smirk now dancing on his lips. 

“Oh, it seems like I hit a spot. So your trip to the N109 Zone did have you in contact with someone there.” He pulls you forward by your wrists, noses just barely touching. His voice was laced with demand. “Who?”

A grunt falls from your lips as you try and pull your wrists back, but Caleb’s hold on them is strong.

It tightens.

“Who?”

You stop and look at him, his eyes so dim you wonder if they’ve truly turned black. You can see anything in them other than dark feelings that create goosebumps on your skin.

You swallow, a bit of courage coming to your throat. “I guess that’s round two of your guessing game.”

A thick silence hangs in the air and your ears pick up noises you don’t remember registering. The ticking of the clock on the wall, the sound of cars driving outside and the pitter patter of rain softly hitting the windows. Mixed with Caleb before you, it was starting to become stimulating, and you pray that Sylus will be here soon.

Caleb’s frown deepens. “Why do you want to go to him, hmm? Skyhaven is much more safer and secure then the N109 Zone.” 

“I have never feared more for my life than staying here.” You reply. To hell with staying silent, that’s what you’ve done more than anything since you’ve been here. You let Caleb have his way, let him ramble on and on and speak badly about a place - about a man you wanted to go back to more than anything.

You’re done with it.

“What can he possibly give you that I can’t?” He’s not glaring but close, he’s looking at you as if he just can’t phantom the idea of you wanting to leave. “How can you want to go to him when I’m right here?”

“Because he would never treat me this way!” You scream, and the look of shock on his face makes you keep going. “He’s never locked me in and he lets me have my freedom with no complaints or bargains. He never punishes me and never makes me feel afraid of him. He’s someone who treats me like I’m someone, not a possession. He's someone I can trust and go to without fear.” Your breathing heavily, the words keep coming out and your not stopping them, too fed up with the man infront of you. “He’s the opposite of you Caleb, and as soon as he comes here I’m going with him, and you can’t stop me.”

You didn’t realise you had stood up until you saw Caleb’s eye move to look up at you, for once you had gotten power over him, had made him look at you and made him speechless. 

Adrenaline runs through your body and you know you can’t let it go, no matter what happens next.

So when the look of shock vanishes over Caleb’s face and is replaced with a glare, you lock in and quickly pull your still bound wrists free from his hold, keeping them close to your chest. When he stands you step away instantly, creating space between the two of you. 

“And what makes you think I’ll let you leave?” His voice drips with venom. It’s a tone you’ve never heard before and almost falters you.

“Because she’s her own person.” a voice breaks out, one that’s so familiar that it makes your heart race. “Because she has the right to her own freedom.”

Both of you turn to the door that’s now locked behind a tall and imposing figure, his white hair gleaming in the ceiling lights. 

“Because she wants to.” 

He steps forward and the light shines on his face, that handsome face of your saviour. “Oh, and because I’m here to help her, isn’t that right, sweetie?” His gleaming red eyes fall on you, and you smile, hope filling you. 

“Sylus…”

Caleb sucks through his teeth, irritation clear all over his face. “How did you get in unnoticed? Every member had been alerted that you would be coming.”

Sylus shrugs nonchalantly, confidence oozing off him. “And despite that I didn’t get much of a welcome party. Your fleet needs more training.” 

The comment only makes Caleb’s irritation grow, and it brings some satisfaction to you. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m taking Miss Hunter home.”

Home. The word makes your heart swell. 

“She’s not going anywhere, especially not with you.” Caleb straightens and you feel his Evol approaching, it causes goosebumps on your skin once again and you instantly look at Sylus, who just looks bored.

“Seems like you need hearing lessons as well.” His own Evol floating around his fists, ready to release.

You knew there was going to be a fight once Sylus showed up, he would avoid it if he could if that’s what you wanted, but Caleb wouldn’t let you go without a fight. Even if Caleb hadn’t caught you and you managed to sneak past him with Sylus, he would only come and get you himself and cause a ruckus wherever you went to get you back. He would see it as you being kidnapped and brainwashed to turn against him.

Caleb needs to know that you want to leave on your own free will, and not just with words. The fact that you called for help should have already planted that seed somewhere in his head.

“Stop it Caleb. Let me go.” 

He turns to you, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes. “What?”

You stand straight, your voice calm as you speak. “I want to leave, right here, right now. So let me go.”

He stares at you, teeth gritted and brows furrowed, but his eyes are scanning you, hoping to find something he can use to make you stay, to blind himself that this isn’t your free choice of will. But he can’t find any, and his irritation and confusion grows. “Why? Why do you want to leave me? I thought after everything we’ve been through, you’d want to stay with me forever.”

And you had wanted that too. 

“I had never felt such relief when I found Caleb alive.” You tell him with a soft voice, the painful memories all coming back. “I spent night’s crying because I thought you were dead, days went past in a blur and I was always reminded to eat even the smallest thing because my mind wouldn’t register the simplest things that my body needed. All I could think about was you.” 

Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes but you didn’t care to wipe them away, with showing Caleb your true emotions, you hope that he’ll finally understand. “Time passed and it got a little easier, but I still thought about you. I didn’t even think I would meet you here…and yet I did. I was so happy Caleb, I thought things would go back the way they were before. Always laughing and joking around, having you by my side to comfort me and give me strength…but you’ve done the exact opposite.”

Confidence flows through your veins as you take a step towards him, his figure still but has lost it’s tension. Your getting through to him. “The things I said before, about me being afraid of you, it’s all true. You keep me locked up and take away my things. You don’t let me have my freedom and even tell me when to go to sleep like I’m a child. It honestly scares me that you can’t see that your hurting me, hurting me so much that I want to escape from you.”

“I didn’t…” His aura falters, the dark and imposing man has been replaced with disbelief and confusion. “I never want you to be afraid of me, I didn’t do all those things to scare you. I want to protect you.”

“Was giving me medicine with the intention of me falling asleep protecting me?” You spat back, the memory of it still causing a shiver of unease down your spine. “I’m a Hunter Caleb, I don’t need this kind of protection. You said that you believed in me when I was doing my exams, but it looks like I’m weak to you.”

“You’re not! That’s…That’s not what I think!”

“I don’t care what you think anymore Caleb, except for the fact that I want to leave SkyHaven and I want to leave you of my own free will. That’s my choice Caleb.”

A noise leaves Caleb’s lips, something frustrated and perhaps sad. You don’t fully understand it but right now you don’t care. You take another step towards him, close enough to touch his chest if you reach out. 

You show him your bound wrists. “Take these off…please.”

He looks down at them, thousands of emotions dance through his eyes that you can’t decipher, but he waves a hand over them and you hear a click before the cuffs fall on the floor.

“Thank you Caleb…and I’m sorry.”

Before he can even respond you punch him square in the face, his body falling to the ground instantly, knocked out.

Whoops.

The slow clapping of hands erases the tense atmosphere from the room.

“An excellent performance, kitten.” Sylus smirks as he walks over. “You had him in your grasp and took matters into your own hands, just like I knew you could.”

There was something about his praise that brightens you, maybe it’s because you know he’s saying it sincerely that has your stomach filled with butterflies. You fight back the smile that threatens your lips. “I didn’t mean to knock him out..”

He chuckles. “Whatever you say, sweetie. You still wanted to punch him, not that I blame you.” His eyes scan over the unconscious body of your ex best friend, frowning at the sight. “I wanted to get some in.”

“You would have killed him then.” You commented, and despite everything Caleb has put you through, you didn’t want him dead - for real this time. “I don’t think the fleet would be too happy about that.”

“I don’t mind making a few more enemies, especially the ones that hurt you.” 

Air catches in your throat as Sylus turns back at you, his eyes looking at you softly. “Are you alright?”

Maybe it was because it was said so gently, full of comfort and genuineness, laced with true worry. that has you tearing up once more. “I want to go home Sylus.”

He gathers you in his arms, holding you close to his chest that you feel his warmth that engulfs you, bringing a sense of calm to your body. “It’s ok. I’m here, and I’m taking you home.” He lifts you in his arms that you don’t protest, you don’t ever want to leave his safe arms ever again. “Luke and Kieran have cleaned your apartment ready for you to come back.”

“No Sylus,” You croak against his neck, tears slowly falling down your cheeks. Apart from Skyhaven your apartment is the last place you want to be right now, there’s no sense of security that will calm you if you return back there. 

There’s only one place you want to be.

That mansion that started out cold that is now warm with your touches; the plushies on the sofa and the blankets on the bed. The fairy lights in his study and the colourful mugs in his kitchen, your skincare and make-up products sitting neatly in his bathroom cabinet and the photobooth pictures hanging by the vanity he had bought you.

“Take us home.”

He looks at you then, surprise written across his face that it almost makes you giggle. You never really called it home to his face, even with your things scattered across the building. 

Sylus smiles, it’s not the one his enemies see or the ones the twins get when they’ve pulled a prank. It’s a smile only reserved for you, and it shines brighter than any star you have ever seen.

“Alright, sweetie. Let’s go home.”

[beardedjoel]

i cannot stress enough that prompt #15 on the first list is SOOOO smother coded, imagine on a hot summer night joel and blossom are up late and just yapping and looking up at the stars (blossom would def make a joke about how one of the constellations reminds her of joel) and then one thing after another he's fucking her raw and deep into the ground, when they're done blossom has grass stains on her dress or something (ALSO JULIE CONGRATS ON 5K YOU FUCKING DESERVE ILY)

thank you so much for sending this in and the kind words bby! beyond appreciate your patience from sending this in months ago 🤧 sorry for the delay! i had so so much fun writing this one though hehe because it really was very smother coded and it felt so natural for them. stargazing really does feel like something they'd do together often, especially after the way it goes for them here!

sea of stars — joel x f!reader

request: "stargazing that turns into sex". sent in as part of my 5k celebration! could be read as a standalone daddy joel if you really wanted to but it is rather smother-y and written with them in mind 😋

wc: 2.9k

warnings: dry (wet?) humping, piv, dirty talk, ddlg / daddy dom!joel + sub!reader

Sticky, thick air clings close to your skin, your hopes of beating the late night heat of summer by opening all the windows dashed as the house remains a stuffy, sweltering prison. You wished for air flow more than anything, a fan, and Joel promised he would do his best to find a working one for the two of you someday. You knew it was unlikely to ever materialize, but Joel would do his damndest to never give up on something that you’d so sweetly asked for.

“Can’t sleep, daddy,” you murmur, rubbing your burning, tired eyes and rolling over to face him. Despite the heat, your naked body gravitates towards him, your longing for him unable to be quelled by it and the layer of sweat that seems to permanently live on your skin. His arms find you, bringing you close, clammy limbs tangling together but neither of you caring, lethargic in your movements.

“I know, sweetheart. ‘M sorry,” he replies, stroking your hair soothingly. “It’s jus’ a heatwave, darlin’, these usually only last a few days. Should be out of it soon.”

You nod, still feeling pitiful, sighing and rolling onto your back as Joel’s arms retract, the both of you trying to cool off again. After a few silent beats, Joel sits up in bed, watching you blink listlessly at the ceiling.

“Alright, up. I’ve got an idea,” he says.

You clamber off the mattress half in a daze and he hands you a ball of thin fabric - your nightgown that had been discarded before you got in bed. Sheer and lovely and see through, you pull it over your head, the material thankfully feather light on your skin. Joel feels better knowing you’re covered up for what he has planned. It’s odd, how deep the possession runs, knowing that nobody else is within miles of this place, but still feeling that pull to keep you as only his to see. It didn’t hurt that you always looked almost too alluring in the clothing he picked out for you.

After tugging on a pair of briefs, Joel leads you outside, snatching a throw from the back of the couch as you pass. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you step past the threshold, the cooler air sweeter than anything as it caresses your skin. 

“Few degrees makes all the difference, don’t it?” Joel says, and you quickly agree with a happy little hum. His hand on the small of your back, he guides you away from the cabin, stopping where a clearing of trees reveals the night sky to you, the moon only a tiny sliver shimmering in the distance, hardly providing any light. You strain your eyes slightly, comforted by the warmth radiating off of Joel reminding you he’s right there.

“Lay down,” he tells you, and you pause, wondering if he can see your face scrunched up in confusion as both of your eyes still adjust to the darkness. “Jus’ trust me,” he adds on at your hesitation, kissing the side of your head.

You lay down on your back, the cool grass beneath you making you smile as goosebumps briefly prickle your skin. You’d started to lose hope that it was possible to find relief in heat like this. Folding your hands over your stomach, you see Joel kneeling down next to you, hear him groan quietly as his knees crack on the way.

“Now tell me what you see, honey,” Joel says, settling next to you.

The obvious answer is right above you, twinkling dots littering the black sky. Their serene beauty transfixes you as you simply mutter, “Stars.”

“Mhm,” Joel confirms, propped up on his elbow to face you. “Pretty, ain’t they?” His fingers tease along your scalp, brushing backwards in rhythmic, soothing strokes. Lulled by his touch, you simply nod, letting the sea of stars swim in front of your eyes.

“You know any constellations?” he asks, laying onto his back to gaze at the sky with you.

“Mm, not really. Can you teach me?”

“Don’t know very many myself.” He pauses, scanning the sky for a few quiet moments. “Well I know that one there. ‘S the big dipper, but everyone knows it. Y’see the handle? An’ the big spoon part too?”

Joel’s hand envelops yours, guiding it to point towards the constellation. You squint, focusing your eyes to try and see it, but shake your head, making a contemplative little noise. “Kind of,” you say, twisting your lips to the side. “Wait… yeah, I see it, daddy! Right there…” You move your hand with his in a line, showing that you see the handle.

“You got it, princess.”

Both of your hands fall to the side, staying interlinked as you quietly observe the beauty floating above you, suspended in the clear sky. You’ve completely forgotten about the heat, the restlessness that had plagued you these last few hours. The air stays cool enough to take the edge off, your skin finally free from that grimy layer of sweat it seemed to carry at all hours during this heat wave.

“What’s that one?” you ask, finger pointing high into the night sky.

“I- I don’t know if that is one, darlin’,” Joel replies amusedly, trying to follow your eyeline. “We’ll get you a book on it, maybe, you’ll be a pro in no time.”

You give a bright smile at his offer while trying to make out more shapes in the twinkling expanse above. “What about that one?” you ask impatiently, pointing again. “It kind of looks like a face, maybe. Maybe it’s you,” you turn your head, giving him a cheeky grin as you laugh.

“Silly girl,” Joel chides you with a chuckle, reaching over to pinch your cheek for the teasing. “You know that daddy doesn’t know everything, right? Despite what it may seem.”

You giggle quietly, shaking your head. “You do know everything, daddy. Isn’t that one of the rules?”

“Knowin’ best f’you and knowin’ everything are very different, blossom,” he says playfully. “An’ especially when it comes to this… constellation stuff, I ain’t ever thought to learn them before, really. Sometimes it’s nice to just… look at ‘em. Thas’ been my philosophy, at least.”

“It is nice…” you mutter dazedly, feeling lulled by the serenity of the sky, the quiet noises of the forest surrounding you, the rustle of a soft but gladly received breeze blowing by. 

“Feelin’ better?” Joel asks, rubbing his thumb over your hand.

“Mhm. Much better,” you reply, sounding more subdued. The heat had made it harder to keep your composure throughout the last few days, leaving you on edge and worried you would inadvertently snap at Joel, resulting in a punishment. It had been a while since he’d had to dole one out, but the memories of them alone makes your body feel flush with need.

You did hate getting them, yet craved the heated attention from him that came with it. You curl a little closer to him at the thought, rubbing your thighs together.

“I can cuddle you again, daddy,” you tell him, making Joel’s chest vibrate with a tiny chuckle.

“You didn’t want to cuddle your old man before?” You can practically hear the daring raise of his brows in his voice.

“Too hot,��� you insist innocently, tucking your face near Joel’s armpit and poking him in the side. He makes a noise of agreement as he playfully swats you away. You’d noticed the same from him during this heatwave - the way his body wanted to gravitate towards yours as usual, but even your insatiable Joel had found it too stiflingly hot to give you what you both desired as often as normal.

Now, however…

His energy shifts, hand slithering down your back, making goosebumps crop up as you shiver. Even less than a few days without his touch has your nerves frazzled the second his hands are on you again, greedily making their way down to your ass, squeezing hard at the plush skin there.

A needy growl pulls up from Joel’s throat, leaning forward to press his lips to your ear, wrapping them around your ear lobe and suckling. Another wave of goosebumps trails over your entire body, a helpless cry whimpered out. 

“Ain’t had enough of you these last few days…” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, raspy and heated. Your breath catches and you clench between your legs, your core moving towards his without thought, throwing a leg over his. His hand tightens on your ass, yanking you closer until you can feel the hard shape of his cock press into you. The thin fabric of both of your clothing does little to hinder either of you, and you start rolling your hips against him, whining.

“Poor baby is needy without her daddy filling her up constantly, isn’t she?” Joel taunts, his other arm slipping underneath you to grab your other ass cheek, now starting a steady, faster rhythm against him.

“Daddy…” you manage to whine breathlessly, your mind only focused on the feeling between the two of you, brain going fuzzy with need. He seems to grow harder, his cock desperate to break the confines of his clothing, to wear down the fabric of your dress with the way he’s moving you in earnest now. You gush between your legs, built up tension from the last few days that hadn’t been sated well enough coming back in full force. 

The fabric of your dress pressed further between your legs starts to grow damp, catching on your poor clit and sending little waves of pleasure buzzing through you. You moan quietly, only forlorn little breaths that Joel eats up, fueling him to keep forcing you to rut into him.

“I w-want -” you try to speak, but the bulge in Joel’s briefs reaches deeper between your thighs, your entire body twitching. 

His lips find your earlobe again, biting gently before turning to your neck and nibbling there. “What does my blossom need, hm? Use your words…”

You whine in response, thrusting inward at the same time Joel urges your hips forward, moaning louder. You pant, angling yourself to get off even easier on him, feeling an obscene amount of moisture seeping onto your dress, soft squelches filling the air as it leaks onto Joel’s briefs, too.

“Christ, baby, my little girl is a needy fuckin’ thing isn’t she,” Joel punches out in disbelief, losing control, his hips twitching harder into yours, chasing his pleasure.

“I-Inside…” you manage to choke out.

Joel tsks. “Not ‘till you give me one,” he demands. You immediately double down on the rocking of your hips, letting yourself get lost in it until your body is burning, so close to reaching that bliss. His cock leaks for you, adding to the wetness sticking to the clothing between you, sweat forming on your brow and neck and everywhere else now, too.

The climax hits you in a hurried burst, leaving just as quickly, not the release you’d been hoping for. You groan in frustration as you come down, clinging to Joel’s sweaty chest.

“Pl-please, daddy. I’ll do anything…” You beg him, your skin prickling and hot with frustration, the heat slowly making you irritable again.

“Anythin’? Ain’t no different from any other day, princess.” He teases, mocking you with that drip of condescension he does so well. It only riles you up further, and you move to untangle yourself from him to move into the position you know will give you the relief you need from him. Before you can get on your hands and knees, Joel grabs you by the waist, pulling you into where he still lays, your body fumbling into his solid chest as it clunks back to the ground. His lips press to your ear, your body tight to his as one arm holds you by the torso, the other near your neck. “Nuh-uh. You know you don’t get to decide how I take you. That ain’t how this works,” he grits out, ruthless.

Whimpering, that odd mixture of excitement and fear coursing through your veins, you smirk, struggling slightly in his hold to egg him on, your ass wriggling into his crotch. Joel clocks it immediately, moving to reach between you and tug down his briefs and tear your dress off where it already barely covers your ass.

“Gonna make me crazy, bein’ a little brat like that, baby. We both know that ain’t you. She’s a good girl. Right?” He presses his cock between your thighs, forcing it through to your entrance, teasing you when you remain silent. “Right?! Say it, sweetheart. Tell daddy you aren’t a brat.”

“I-I’m not…” Just the tip of his cock presses inward and you grit your teeth, holding back the pathetic, desperate begging you really want to spit out. “I’m not a brat, daddy, I promise. I just -”

“You need daddy’s cock, I know.” He interrupts you with a press inward of his hips at his words, sinking the thick length of himself inside of you. You squeal, the noise turning to a moan of relief as he slides in easily, your slickness already coating everything, including the way it’s dripping down the inside of your thighs.

“What are you then, if you ain’t a brat?” Joel sits perfectly still, his well practiced restraint palpable between the two of you. You want him to move, you need him to move, to fill that void you’d been missing for the last few days.

“I’m a g-good girl. I am… I am… I-I’m good, see?” You keep perfectly still with Joel for a long beat, letting him make the final call on whether or not you’ve been good enough. One of your hands grasps tightly into the grass to pour out your pent up frustration, nails digging into the earth.

Joel cranes his neck to kiss the side of your head. “That’s right. Thank you, blossom. Good girls get a reward from their daddy, too.”

You nod eagerly, and in a flash Joel’s body is on top of yours, forcing his cock to plunge deeper inside of you as you lay belly down. He yanks on your hips, bringing them upwards and begins to thrust steadily and surely into you. Your g-spot immediately feels the change in angle as he starts to press on it, your pussy pulsing around him, still sensitive from the last climax.

“Y-yes, yes…” you groan out, the top half of your torso still pressed into the ground going deeper into the grass with each bounce of your body on Joel’s thrusts. He smacks your ass and you yelp happily, heat radiating from there into pleasure at your core when he does it again.

“S-shit… baby, come for me. Want to hear you, want to feel you. Daddy a-ain’t gonna last…”

Something about his desperation pulls your insides taut, makes you clench harder around him. His hand reaches to your clit, rubbing urgently as he pounds into you. “Come, f-fuck, come, blossom. Now.”

His command, always your bidding, follows that same pattern now, sending you toppling over the edge. You come hard, your legs trembling, sinking lower to the ground so that you’re almost flat, your knees unable to hold you up. The pure abyss of pleasure rocks through you for those few, perfect moments as Joel pants above you as he pistons his hips faster. He suddenly yanks himself out of you, leaving you empty and trembling. You hear the squelch of your slickness in his hand, pumping his cock a few times before the hot splattering of his cum hits your back, soaking through your dress.

Joel sighs, collapsing next to you on his back, tucking himself back inside his briefs. “S-sorry, baby. I needed that too, I guess,” he says, sounding more sheepish than usual.

“I liked it,” you tease him, genuine in your words. You roll to your side, sitting up slightly and glancing down at your dress with a frown. Through the dark, your eyes more well adjusted now, you can see the stain smeared across the front of it. It isn’t the first time that grass stains have invaded your wardrobe from a passionate moment like this, but you like your dresses pristine for Joel, always worried about him getting it out for you. “My dress…” you lament.

Joel’s lips pull up into a smirk. “Afraid the back ain’t any better.”

You giggle, flustered and still shy after all this time at the thought of what you and Joel do together after the moment passes. “You made a mess this time, daddy.”

His lips find yours, pressing a deep kiss to them. “Can’t help that it looks good on you. You want to go change?”

“Too tired now. Want to sleep.” You shake your head, blinking at the night sky again, studying the stars with heavier lids now. The cooler outside air, despite your recent activities making you sweat all over again, starts to dry it quickly, leaving you pleasantly comfortable and sated. Joel’s plan seemed to work wonders, this setup much better than it had been trying to fight for sleep inside the stuffy house. Your limbs feel lazy and heavy, body still humming from your climax, every part of you comforted when Joel moves to hold you.

He smiles softly, placated to see you so at ease now. Joel reaches for the throw blanket, unraveling it and setting it at the ready for when you inevitably start to get chilly in your sleep. 

“You sleep then, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you.”

[arachnixe]

I might've gotten a bit carried away with this one...

The Sister-in-Law

As soon as I heard them coming, I put a kettle on the fire. The crows always let me know when I have visitors, and now they call out to announce I must entertain houseguests again. Three short caws in rapid succession, followed by a longer fourth—two people, then. No time to dawdle, but enough time to avoid haste, I clear the table of clutter, sorting my work into nearby shelves, closing my book and setting it aside for later, and… oh no, my half-finished spinning still rests on the seat of a chair. I huff in annoyance at my own laziness, sweeping an arm to slide spindle and forgotten tangle into a basket, discreetly shoving the whole mess by foot into the far corner of my cottage.

Three dainty raps at the door inform me that my window to tidy is at its end. Good enough, good enough. The table is clear, and fully three chairs are usable.

“Come on in then,” I call toward the door. “Don’t be afraid; come in!”

With a nasty squeal of hinges that really must be oiled again—maybe I’ll remember to take care of that after these two leave—the door opens just enough to catch a glimpse of my little sister’s face.

“Marina? God’s rotten t—” I bite my tongue. Shouldn’t swear in front of her, of all people. “Is something wrong? You’re not supposed to— I mean, isn’t there supposed to be—?”

Before I can choke out a coherent question, the door finishes its arc, showing me a face I’ve never seen before. Long, dark hair falls straight down, framing a head of delicate, almost elfin beauty. The smile gracing the stranger’s bloodless lips does not touch eyes of pitch that smolder like an inferno barely kept in check by will alone. Atop her head rests a carmine crown forged of no metal known to mortal smith.

Yes, my sister’s companion looks human enough, but it would take a fool not to see that this woman is not what she appears to be. I also cannot help but mark the conspicuous absence of those original companions with whom she left this place.

“Plum!” My sister greets me with enthusiasm bordering on surprise. “Is it really you? No, nothing’s wrong, hey, quit fussing!” She pulls her head away from my grip after I make sure her eyes look normal enough. No sign of blanching fever, at least. “It must be you, only you would—stop that!” I grip her wrist until I satisfy myself that her heart rate is perfectly normal for someone becoming actively annoyed at me, and then I release her. “Happy now?”

“No,” I huff. “I’m never happy. But I’m more pleased to see you return than I was to see you go, which I’ll call good enough.” I back away from the door again and wave them inside. “Come have a seat, leave your boots and cloaks and swords and masks and whatnot at the door, and I’ll brew some tea for us while you tell me what in the seven hells is going on with you. And introduce me to your friend!”

I set about searching for the tea, swearing under my breath as I remember it had been right here on the table, and I’d tidied it away with the dried herbs. Now where were the spare teacups? Ugh. It’s a good thing all that traveling gear takes forever to unstrap and unlace, gives me plenty of time to trawl through my own clutter. By the time they sit down, I manage to cobble together a downright competent tea set, brewing in progress.

“So, uh, Plum… You actually live at Agathea’s old house these days?”

“My house now.” I wave a hand to indicate the slouching building and all its chaotic piles as my domain. “And don’t change the subject. Who’s your friend?”

“Plum, this is Zee. Zee, this is my sister. We’re, ah, getting married… and…” She trails off without finishing. I blink impatiently at her, waiting for the rest.

“And…?” I raise an eyebrow, waiting for Marina to stop stammering and get to the point. What is wrong with her? She was all bluster and confidence last I saw her, and now she’s acting like I’m the greatest challenge she’s had to face.

“I need your blessing,” she finishes at last, punctuating the request with the tiniest cringe.

“My what.”

“Because mom and dad are dead, and you’re my only family left, and…”

“My blessing? What is this—? Actually, no. Back up.” I jab a finger at Zee. “Do you talk?”

“I do.” Zee’s thin lips barely part, just enough to slip words between them like parchment through the gap under a door.

“Great. Don’t stop now.”

“Plum, don’t…” Marina whines, but I wave her complaint away with a waspish flick of my wrist.

The thing in the shape of a woman turns her palms up toward me. “What words shall I utter for you?”

I snort. “You can start with an apology. This? This whole thing?” I tilt my head to indicate her. “Rude. Terribly rude.”

“She hasn’t even done anything! Why are you acting like this?”

“Masks!” I spit. “I asked you to leave the masks at the door. I would think someone ostensibly trying to win my blessing might choose to let me see you. At the very least!”

The woman calling herself Zee bares her teeth in an expression not much like a smile, countering my demand with a question. “Are you really Marina’s sister?”

My sister hisses through her teeth, but she doesn’t contest the validity of the question. A sigh escapes from me. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this, that my various idiosyncrasies sufficed as proof of identity. Alright, you want to address this topic? I’ll address it.

“You think I’m Agathea.” Zee’s impassive expression contrasts Marina’s wincing discomfort, but neither one denies my statement. “Maybe you think she’s conjured an illusion of me to catch you off guard, or maybe you think she, I don’t know, possessed my body as part of some evil scheme for immortality, is that it?”

“I just expected…”

“You expected me to be still living in that shitty hovel within the city walls, of course. Thought you’d pop by, maybe use your fancy Chosen One powers and your Fated Quest wealth to save me from poverty, and I’d be so full of gratitude I’d say something like ‘oh, dear sister, however can I repay you?’ And then you’d hug me tight, just like I did for you when we were small and all alone on the streets, and all we had was each other, and you’d tell me that all you really want is for me to bless your marriage to this lovely woman who helped you help your poor, older sister who was never blessed with divine destiny.”

“It’s not like that!”

“But I wasn’t there. You asked around, probably like you’ve done a hundred times before on one quest or another, who knows, I don’t care. You heard a rumor about someone matching my description here at Agathea’s old cottage, the very place where you once had to save me from her wicked clutches. But oh no!” I clap my hands to my cheeks in mock surprise. “Now none of this is playing out the way you imagined, and you’re hoping that I’m not really Big Sis Plummy because it would be so much easier to handle me if you could just draw that holy blade and put me down. Maybe you could fight another big battle, save your real sister and get back on the Gratitude Route to your happily ever after, hmm?”

Marina’s mouth hangs open in horror, suggesting I got close enough to the truth of what she was thinking. Her lower lip starts trembling, and her eyes well with tears. Oh, hell’s rancid tonsils, I forgot how sensitive she always was to my cynicism. Or maybe she’s just ashamed of thinking those things about me.

An internal timer prods me to pour the tea, and so I stand and serve my guests. I take a moment to breathe and calm myself. I don’t like being jealous or angry with Marina. I grind the sharp edges out of my voice. “No. You know it’s me.”

“Sword’s gone anyway,” my sister mumbles, swallowing to control her quavering.

That stops me in my tracks. “What?!” I scan the heap of traveler’s detritus at the door, and sure enough the only sword there looks perfectly mundane, if well-crafted. “Something went wrong, I knew it. What happened? Is that why the others aren’t with you?”

I chew my lip, concern making me forget my dignity in front of the inhuman stranger. For a moment, I’m just the older sister again, mind racing to cobble together a scheme to get Mari out of trouble, trying to understand the situation so I can fix it all for her. “I thought that big lout of yours was insipid, but he had a talent at acting the part of ablative flesh defense. Did he trip when he should have been in front of you? Or the clever one with all the knives, good head on her shoulders, that one; she should have kept you out of trouble. Or the clown, good for a distraction at least while you swing that sword…”

Marina’s eyes dart to her left, to Zee, looking to the mystery woman to answer while she wets her lips and clears her throat, stalling for time. My eyes narrow. Something strange is happening here.

“How did you come to inherit this estate?” Eyes like lightless pools fix themselves on mine. “An answer for an answer.”

A standoff. My sister’s fiancée versus her older sister. A contest for… what, exactly? A marriage blessing? I sip my tea to stall for time to think and to allow that familiar aroma to coax my muscles into the relaxation of a predator in her own territory, not the tense bundle of nerves that would mark me as prey.

“An answer for an answer is an equal trade,” I allow. “But our exchange at the moment is an uneven one. You’ve entered my home wearing a mask. I have asked you twice now to remove it. I will tell you my story. In exchange, you will remove your mask and tell me your story. That is my first, last, and best offer.” I keep my tone relaxed, but I permit just a touch of anger to color my words at the edges. “You may decline, of course, but doing so closes the door on my blessing forever.”

Silence walls my side of the table from theirs. I don’t bother counting the seconds, choosing instead to sit back and sip my tea. Look, I have all the time in the world out here in the woods. I’m not the one with a mission, a time limit, and a missing relic.

When at last someone speaks, it’s Marina, angry enough to spit fire, shouting, finally sounding like herself again. “You are impossible, Plum! I—!”

But Zee somehow smothers her declaration, interrupting with a breathy rasp.

“I accept your terms,” she says, and with a glance she silences my sister’s objection before her tongue can speak it. “But you will speak truthfully or the deal is forfeit.”

“Truth is easy.” My turn to smile. Finally, we can make progress in this farcical confrontation. “Lies are more work anyway. But come on now, drink your tea. If I try to finish this pot all by myself, I’ll be pissing under the table before you finish keeping your end of the deal.”

Marina huffs in a mirror image of my own mannerisms before sipping from her cup. I can see in the set of her shoulders that the tea helps calm her despite her irritation at me. Zee throws her whole cup back in one shot, and I freshen both while gathering my own thoughts. Where to begin?

“I was here for more than a whole day before you and your comrades-in-arms found me—you know, back then—and Agathea could have done whatever she wanted to me in that time. You know that, right? Scared as you were, scared as I was, she could’ve done whatever she wanted to me that whole time.”

“I thought about that. So why didn’t she?”

“Oh, she did!” I cackle. “She very much did everything she wanted to me. The same thing she did to all the other girls she took.”

My sister’s eyes widen in sudden horror. “Goddess above, Plum, I didn’t know…”

“No, not what you’re thinking,” I hasten to cut that thought off. “Nothing physical. She just told me things. Planted a lot of seeds, the old witch did. Knew they wouldn’t all grow, but planned to keep her eye out for the ones that could. She spoke of the Wheel, the true name of the sin at the heart of creation, the mad inversion of harvest and rot and the wisdom of insanity.”

Even now, I can still smell the old woman’s musty breath as I recall her words. “Cornball witchy shit like that, you know? The other missing girls, they all went crazy from hearing it. Ran off into the woods to be eaten by giant vipers or crushed by lithovores or something.”

I couldn’t help laughing again at the memory. “I just told her she was wasting my time, that she might as well just kill me and spare me the lectures. Oh, Khazik Cyst, I was such a little shit back then.”

Ah, well, so much for sticking to polite language. But Marina can hardly lecture me for swearing when she went and lost her sacred blade. In the grand scheme of things, that must be way more offensive to her goddess, right? I make eye contact with my sister, and sure enough she doesn’t even react to my vulgarity. Huh, I guess some things do change after all.

“You lived because you didn’t find her witchy secrets interesting enough to go mad over?”

“Kinda trivializes her whole deal when you put it that way,” I reply, grinning. “But not far from the truth. Anyway, you know what comes next. You and your friends track us down, challenge her to a fight, she doesn’t leave a corpse, and you whisk me back home. The end. Hero saves the day again. Not that I wasn’t grateful, I mean. I was scared as hell, for all I was smart-mouthing my captor.”

“And then…?”

“Then you had to go. Didn’t need your big sister anymore. You were still a kid like me, but the goddess decided you were all grown up enough to face your destiny.” I heave a sigh. I don’t make eye contact this time. I don’t want to see her pity. “You were gone for six years, Marina.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “I didn’t mean to abandon you, it’s just… the time crystal—“

“Yes, of course, the time crystal.” I snort, my mouth filled with bitterness. “You can hardly be blamed for getting trapped in a time crystal while everything in the world goes to rot and ruin, the king is assassinated, and creepy cults pop up in every town.” Despite the bitterness in my voice, I hope she hears the sincerity in it too. I reach across the table and touch my sister’s hand. “I… really don’t blame you for that. Khazik Cyst, you were just a kid.” The more I think about it, the angrier I get. “You were just a kid, fighting some shit-taint chronomancer for the fate of the world armed with pluck, a sword that glows in the dark, and the power of hells-damned friendship.“

I pound the table with my fist, rattling the teacups. ��You know I went searching for you? Threatened a capital librarian until he dug up some old prophecies. There was one about that whole fiasco with the time asshole—may that festering pustule rest in piss—written all fanciful and opaque like they do, but I recognized it immediately. That’s how I knew when you’d show up again and where you’d be.”

“And we weren’t kids anymore. You kept saying that again and again. That we weren’t kids anymore.”

My tea has already gone cold. Too caught up in old memories. I gulp it down and freshen everyone’s cup again, giving myself time to choose my next words carefully.

“I got to live a whole real life in those six years, Marina. You just had those years of your life deleted. I don’t think I can ever forgive your goddess for that.” I take a shuddering breath and press on. “And we had, what, that afternoon and one night at the inn together before cultists tried to assassinate you all? Best I could do was pull off a distraction so you and your friends could escape and go save the world.”

“I’m sorry, Plum.”

“But…?”

“But nothing. I’m sorry.” Naked sincerity on Marina’s face. She doesn’t launch into a speech about her duty to the world, the importance of sacrifice, or any of it. I glance over to Zee, who remains content to watch and listen in silence.

“But you had to save the world, didn’t you?” I gesture out the window. “The sun still looks haunted to me, though, so something must have gone wrong.” Haunted is maybe a too-cheeky way to describe how the great ball of fire hangs in the sky, a bloated, half-lidded eye that barely climbs past the horizon, even at noon. The color is all wrong, too, a festering yellow that tastes like disease when it falls on the tongue.

My sister shrugs. The gesture feels strange coming from her. “Maybe I shouldn’t have,” she answers cryptically. “But the house?”

“Right.” I can wait for her answers. “As I was saying, six years is a long time. I was thinking about a lot of things while you were gone. Thinking about how much I hate your goddess for taking my sister away from me, putting you in danger, all that. Thinking about the ‘sin at the heart of creation,’ and starting to feel like the idea made a lot of sense, actually. Like maybe it wasn’t all garbage.”

I take another sip of tea to steel my nerves for this confession. It’s not like I ever intended to keep the truth from my sister anyway. “I came back here. To Agathea. She offered me a place to stay. She taught me the virtues of herbs, how to mix them to make medicine or poison. She taught me how to listen to animals and make myself known to them. She taught me to speak the words that bind direction, to chain north so that it may not become east, to constrict up such that it may never be down. She taught me everything she is. The Witch of Everblood’s Call must be renewed by youth, you see. There is a time for harvest and a time for rot, and it was time for her to become me.”

“No.” Marina shakes her head in aggressive refusal of my words. “Absolutely not. You’re saying Agathea did steal your body? That you were her even when we escaped the time crystal and saw you again? I don’t believe it! Everything you say… all the ways you say it… you’re Plum. You’re my sister. I don’t know what this is. Trying to scare me away? No. No. I refuse.”

“Good! Refuse!” I bark a laugh. “You know it’s me. Not even I can convince you otherwise. Besides, it’s less like Agathea took my body and more that I took her mind, but there it is. I’m the big scary witch of the woods in truth, in command of the exact same power as Dread Agathea, no different from her except in all the ways that I am me instead.” I turn my best sinister grin across the table and cackle most menacingly. “And now that you’ve drunk my tea I can…” pause for dramatic effect, “brew a new pot, if you’d like!”

Marina gives me a look like she’s already exhausted of my gnollshit, which I find unfair considering how long it’s been since she’s had to indulge my sense of humor. Zee, of all people, laughs. Or at least she produces a sound that’s in the neighborhood of laughter. “I have decided I like your sister,” she says to her fiancée. “I think I shall keep her afterward.”

“Keep me, then.” I raise my teacup, holding on to the last dregs of tea, in a mock toast, feeling more relaxed and playful than I was earlier in the conversation. “But I’m keeping Mari, and she’s keeping me too, one way or another.”

“The deal is struck. Your story, I accept. I bind us through the keeping of my side.”

With each word, Zee shifts, human limbs shifting and twisting as though bereft of internal bones, skin turning thin and transparent, revealing inhuman muscle shot through with veins of putrid yellow. Her torso extends, losing definition and towering from floor to ceiling like a grotesque parody of a tree made of hairless skin. As she shifts, a putrescent odor fills the air nearly making my own eyes water. Muscular tendrils coil around Marina, and to my shock, I see my sister nuzzle one such inhuman limb with affection, utterly captivated as though by an indescribable beauty.

The Zee-thing continues growing, face vanishing into a toothy maw within the main trunk, legs splitting and extending into roots across my floor and weaving a tapestry of fleshy branches across the ceiling. The whole creature throbs in rhythm with an alien heartbeat, each beat spreading this creature’s parasitic embrace a little farther. Before too long, there will be nowhere for me to run.

“Hmm.” I grunt in thought. “Zammora the Unclean was the name of the ancient evil Marina was Chosen to slay, wasn’t it? Begins with a letter ‘Z.’ Weird coincidence, I’m sure.”

“Clever little creature. Full of lore, are you not?” Zee’s voice is even less human than before, slamming me with a sound like a swarm of wasps. “Why do you not fear me?”

“Because you’re in my house,” I answer simply. “My house, my rules.” I point to my sister. “So, is she being mind-controlled or what? Because the smell is a bit intense, even for me, and I’m intimately acquainted with rot, while Marina’s always had kind of a delicate stomach. So tell me the truth. Mind control?”

“She accepted my leash upon her mind willingly, witch. As will you.”

“Don’t count on it.” Running through my options here, and I don’t like what I’m finding. Legendary evil, no legendary sword. But a legendary evil in my house, which is either a sign of ridiculous overconfidence or a regular tactical blunder on her part. “The deal doesn’t count if I don’t get to hear Marina’s unfettered words.”

“I did not agree to that,” the horrid, quivering thing hisses.

“You don’t have to.” I snap my fingers for dramatic effect and snip the connection between my sister’s mind and her destined foe.

Immediately, Marina’s body revolts. She retches and heaves, emptying all the tea in her stomach onto my floor. She staggers, and to my surprise, the tendril holding her close allows her to stumble a couple paces away. I ignore Zee’s nightmarish growling and rush to my sister’s side. “Hey, Mari. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

She isn’t listening to me, though. A panicked gurgle escapes her throat, rising to a scream of horror. “What did you do to my mind? What did you do?“

“Shhh, shhh…” I wrap her in my embrace and feel her arms hold me back. “You’re free now. And Zammora can’t claim your mind again while you’re here. And we’ve got a deal,” I raise my voice to make sure I’m heard by the other thing in the room. “I get to hear the story of what happened with your sword and your friends. She cannot take either of us without violating a witch’s pact, at least for that long. Then we’re gonna let you make the plan, okay, Chosen One? I’ll follow your lead.”

Bloodshot eyes filled with queasy misery meet mine. “The deal. Of course. I’ll tell you everything. Let me… just give me a second.”

I’m more than happy to give Mari as long as she needs. The more I stall, the more time I have to chew on this problem. I look at Zammora, growing into the narrow gaps between my floorboards, pale tendrils reaching, grabbing, anchoring themselves to the wooden beams up above. Yes, “parasite” seems to be an apt classification, but what exactly is the nature of her parasitism?

“Zee came to us in her—urk—human form.” Marina does her best to stifle her reflexive retching. “Grau and Verle were suspicious of her, but Bernie, you know him, trusting to a fault.” She pauses again to take a deep breath and collect herself. “But she was scared. Said some dangerous people were out to kill her. And I don’t like to judge people on appearance. You know that. So I made a promise. I promised to protect her.”

An icy grip takes hold of my heart. I know better than most that a promise from some people is more powerful than words alone. Truth is one of that goddess’s virtues, after all, and her Chosen is necessarily bound to that ideal. From Mari, a promise is an unbreakable vow. That it may have been born of deception hardly matters—gods are always so damn unyielding about their principles.

“I asked Zee why she was being hunted. She told me, hhhh…” Mari’s eyes close. She pauses to take a few deep breaths again. “Told me she’d made an enemy of someone powerful and cruel. She’d been kept in prison for a long time and just recently escaped. She wanted help, and I couldn’t bear to tell her no.”

My sister turns away from me, looking back at the twisted abomination that can no longer pass for the kind of scared and trembling maiden that always tugged at Mari’s heart. I watch her mouth twist into a grimace, fighting nausea, her brow drawn into a knot with the effort of staring down Zammora’s true form. It must be a struggle to even look upon something so incomprehensibly inhuman if one is not a witch like me, well practiced in dredging the very sump of creation.

There is a beauty in rot, in parasitism, that most people struggle to see. All life is essential to life itself, however uncomfortable the feelings they may inspire. Truth be told, I’d have been willing to help Zee too, if she came to me with her honest face and directly asked me to help her kill Mari’s goddess—powerful and cruel indeed—and what is being Chosen except its own kind of prison? Yes, I certainly begrudge the goddess enough for everything she’s ever done to Mari.

“She tricked me,” my sister says. “But she didn’t lie. She never lied. So my vow held. Even when she told me who she really was, I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t even tell the others because I knew that would put her in danger.”

“Devious. Hells below, I do respect that,” I admit. “It’s a real shame you chose to fuck with my sister, or things might turn out differently for us.”

“She did more than eff with me.” Mari coughs. “But that’s… beside the point. Things got weird. My friends noticed I was spending more time alone with her, that I never strayed from her side. They got suspicious. Worried. It put a strain on our friendship. Isolated me so that Zee felt like the only one I could even talk to.”

“We talked,” scrapes the voice from the throbbing trunk of flesh in my house.

“Of course you talked. I love talking. Marina loves talking. You’re not a beast of many words, but I have no doubt in her power to make anyone engage her in conversation.”

Mari smiles just a bit at my comment. We may not be kids anymore, but I’m glad I can still help her deal with stressful situations with some levity.

“Yeah, we talked. She asked me how I felt about the goddess. Zee hates her so much, and… well, it felt easier to confess some of the things I resent. Stuff I couldn’t say to my friends, who needed to believe in the power of the Chosen One.”

I blink, surprised yet again by this turn of the conversation. “You resent your goddess? You?“

Still embracing me with both arms, her hands clench into fists at my back. “My whole life, she’s been watching me, whispering in my ear, grooming me to be her perfect Chosen One. When our parents died, she told me it would make me stronger. When we were starving and homeless, she told me it would teach me compassion for the less fortunate of the world. When you broke your leg, and then it got infected, and you were fighting a fever for months while I scrambled to feed us both and get you medicine, she told me I would learn to stand on my own.”

My sister trembles in my arms. “But she didn’t just whisper. She did those things. All of them. To teach me her lessons. She broke your leg to teach me to rely on you less. She made us orphans on purpose! She told me it was all necessary, and I believed her.”

“Until we talked,” Zammora adds.

“Until we talked.” Marina nods, her head against my shoulder again. “It was seductive. A part of me wanted to believe none of our suffering was necessary. That part of me wanted an excuse to hate her for the things she did to us. I think that part of me won when I decided to tell my friends the truth about Zee.”

A mental model starts to form; I begin to grasp the nature of Zammora—what kind of parasite she is—and start imagining how to counter her. Not merely a parasite of bodies, not merely a physical thing, she infects at a conceptual level, maybe even at the level of pure ontology. Without saying much at all, her presence alone infects thought, probing for weakness, turning minds toward herself. I cast my eyes over the spreading mass of tendrils claiming my home. And she’s in my house, which could be a problem.

“When I told my friends the truth, they all assumed I was under her control. I wasn’t—not yet, anyway.”

Or so Marina believes. I’m not so sure. Big Zee probably can’t be slain, not without the kind of sword that slices through thought as well as it does flesh and bone, but maybe…

Hmm. I can close the house. Trap all three of us here permanently, removed from the real world. It would accomplish the goal of saving the world from Zammora, at the cost of my life and Mari’s. An eternity trapped here with Zammora the Unclean? No, I don’t believe in heroic sacrifice, nor in sacrificing my own sister. Not an option. So then what?

“But I should have known that no matter what I said, they’d try to fight her.” She hesitates. “Maybe I did know. Maybe that’s what part of me wanted. I was oath-bound to defend her. I… you know, it’s weird I never made a vow to protect my friends? I guess we never thought that kind of thing needed to be said. We took it for granted.”

My breath hitches. “You killed them?” Oh, Mari, no. “That must have broken your heart.”

Marina’s face buries itself deeper against me. “It did.” I can’t see her tears, but I know her well enough that I don’t need to. “And when it was over, I broke the sword. Didn’t need it anymore. With them… gone… I was the greatest threat remaining to Zee. But only as long as I still had the sword.”

“The trade is complete, witch,” Zee pronounces. “I will have Marina’s mind again.”

“Not until you explain this ‘marriage blessing’ farce,” I snap. “You won, didn’t you? Your enemy’s Chosen is disarmed and neutralized. You’re free to do whatever it is a thing like you does when it runs rampant. What could possibly have compelled you to come here telling me such nonsense about wedding each other?”

“Plum…” My sister disengages from our embrace to look me in the eye. She’s a mess—her face wet with tears, snot running from her nose, and a touch of drying vomit on her chin, where she failed to wipe it all away. It’s an expression that reminds me of some of the hardest days when we were kids and all we had was each other. “Plum, it’s not nonsense. It’s… a plan.”

“A plan.” I repeat deadpan.

“Marriage under the auspices of the goddess. I don’t exactly… Zee, you tell her.”

I raise an eyebrow at my sister’s—apparently for real—fiancée.

“You understand infection, witch.”

“Do I, now?”

“Do not dissemble. I see it in your mind. You wear your mind as a house. It is plain to me. There.” A tendril points at the shelf where I keep my unfinished knitting. “You see me as parasite.”

No hiding my thoughts from her as long as she’s in my house, I suppose. My face flushes with embarrassment at having underestimated my houseguest.

“Correct, there is nowhere to hide.”

I try not to think too hard about how much of this place—a reflection of my own mind—she’s already colonized. It’s not too late yet, but I must take care.

“Alright, then. I’ve been playing my cards face up for this whole meeting. I accept that.” I shrug. “In some ways that simplifies everything. If you truly want my blessing, tell me your plan. The real one, please. You can see I don’t have my sister’s values.”

“Yet you value truth as much as she.” Zee rumbles, vibrating the whole building with her voice.

I turn my palms toward her in a gesture of openness, mirroring hers from earlier.

“Then hear me. We are to be married according to Her foul tradition. In doing so, Her temple will incept me within her aegis. She will be unable to aim Her divine intent against me, forevermore. I will be free to enact my design while She may do aught but watch in helplessness.”

Ah, that makes sense. Zee is exactly the right kind of parasite to pull off that scheme. It absolutely requires my sister, whose position of privilege as Chosen One makes her vows uniquely binding through connection to her goddess. It’s an elegant plan, really, but for one small problem.

“Marina would have to love you, or the marriage would be flawed at its foundation. That would be exactly the sort of crack her goddess would use to escape your trap.”

I pause in thought. “Oh.”

“The mind control.” Mari says my own thought aloud. “She can make sure I love her completely, despite my…”

“Revulsion,” Zee finishes for her. “A natural human instinct when witnessing my true glory.”

Is that enough, I wonder? Ugh, I’d need to do more research to be sure. Intuitively, though, I suspect it may not suffice.

“Please. This hurts, Plum.” Mari grips my shoulders to pull my attention back to her. “I hate looking at my Zee and feeling this… nausea. Even memory, remembering the things we’ve done together…” She shudders. “Once happy memories are tainted by this gross feeling. Please, Plum.”

“Please what? Are you asking me to let her restore the chains on your mind?” It’s an unsettling demand. How can I do that to my own sister? “Just force you to love her again?”

“I do love her!” She shouts, and I wonder how much is meant to convince me, and how much to convince herself. “You don’t know what we’ve been through together. My heart loves her, Plum. It’s just my traitor brain that doesn’t understand, no matter how hard I try. It’s stupid animal instinct, that’s all. I love her, and I don’t want to touch her, but I want to want to touch her. Do you know how much that hurts? I love her, and the thought of kissing my own girlfriend makes me want to vomit! I hate feeling like this!”

Her brown eyes shine with the same intensity they always did when she set off to do something that scared her. I know her better than anyone, but I cannot tell myself I know her better than she knows herself.

“Alright, Mari.” I run my hand across her cheek, brushing away a tear. “Far be it for me to tell my sister that her wife can’t tie her up if they both want.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, the thread binding her to Zee snaps back into place. All at once, the tension leaves my sister’s body, and she pauses only to give me one quick hug of gratitude before flinging herself back toward her fiancée and planting a succession of kisses along her throbbing trunk. Tendrils wrap themselves around her and pull her tighter into the embrace.

Zammora speaks again, a scaly rasp on my mind. “Do we have your blessing, then?”

I chew my thoughts some more, a plan congealing in my mind as well as over my hearth. Zee can surely read the room, but I speak the words aloud for Mari’s sake.

“I can do you one better, my future sister-in-law.” I grin. “Allow me to write both your vows.” To Mari, I ask, “is that permitted in the ceremony?”

“Yes? No reason why it wouldn’t be. Why?”

“I know the words that bind direction. I know the true name of the sin at the heart of creation. Forget hiding merely within the goddess’s aegis, how would you like to get inside her very immune system?”

“I am listening,” Zee says, her voice now tasting like a caress.

“Let’s aim higher than just the sun. Infecting the goddess herself with disease sounds like fitting revenge for all three of us. Better than a blessing, I'll give you a curse. How does that sound?”

The rumble that fills my cottage might as well have been the purr of a monstrous cat. “I will have your words. And I will keep you as well, Plum.”

I seal the new pact with a rap of knuckles on wood. “You beautiful thing, as long as Mari’s happy, and I get to stay by her side, I’ll let you do whatever you want with me.” I exhale in satisfaction. The long nightmare of our lives is finally over, isn’t it?

“How about another pot of tea before we get planning?”

You are the elder sibling of the Hero. They want your blessing to marry the Villain they originally set out to destroy; now sitting across from you at the same table.

[reidrum]

let it once be me | the prophecy part 3

note: hey ,,, remember her ,,,,,,,,, ! feeling hashtag nervous to post this but pls tell me ur thoughts this went through !!! so many drafts !!! almost lost my mind like thirty times lol but thank u for reading <3 (reading prior parts may be helpful in having context for this part but im not really sure it's necessary, they're way shorter than this part either way)

summary: you and spencer are faced with yet another wedge in your relationship, and you're not sure if it'll survive this time

cw: heavy spoilers for everett lynch arc (15.10), we're ignoring the cm tl and time doesn't exist, maeve flashback, hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending !

wc: 8k (wtf)

part 1 part 2 part 3

Spencer feels he’s lived many lives, and that his lived experiences have thoroughly prepared him to navigate novel situations with a small familiarity. A cushion really, to allow him the comfort of seeing the path before he has to walk it blind. It almost acts as a sense of pride for him, a testament to what he’s overcome and capable of facing.

There’s nothing prideful about how awful things have been going with you.

It’s been weeks since your talk with him. Weeks since he vowed to prove to you that you were it for him, and he’s made so little progress he finds it embarrassing for someone with his caliber of intellect.

He’s toeing a fine line between being in your presence enough for you to see that he’s trying, and giving you  space so that you don’t feel smothered. It was harder in the immediate days after your talk, when you couldn’t even stand to stay in the same room as him for more than five minutes. You had come home to his apartment the day after having decided Penelope had enough of your moping. Once you got in you immediately went to settle into the guest room.

It was near radio silent between you both those first few days. He didn’t want to force you, but it didn’t feel great when you would leave a room as soon as he’d enter. As the days went on, Spencer started getting resourceful. He’d make you breakfast in the morning and leave it on the table for you, your coffee next to it made exactly how you take it. Then it was little notes left in the most random places, all written with different things he loved about you. He never saw your reaction when you read them, but they’d always disappear from its spot the next day. Little things to remind you he’s there for you.

More days passed and it finally felt like the ice was starting to melt away. You’d started lingering longer in the living room if he was sat at the table still. One time you even made breakfast for the both of you, and although you weren’t there to eat it with him Spencer had never felt more hopeful.

In the field your dynamics changed even more. Normally, he would make sure to be paired up with you in the field to personally ensure that you were being safe. Since the fallout however, he didn’t want to be an unwelcome presence that only left you more tense in high stake situations. So he’d do things like privately tell Emily to double check your bulletproof vest, or make sure Luke was at your 6 if he couldn’t do it himself.

The last thing he wanted was for your current circumstance with each other, one that he knows he created, to distract you in the field and god forbid cause something to happen to you. He would never forgive himself if you got hurt because of him, but Spencer remembers he’s already done the worst hurt he can fathom to you, and what he really means is that he can’t afford to hurt you any further. As much as it worried him to do so, he had reluctantly learned to place some trust in his teammates to keep you safe. It was a balance he’d learned to adapt to.

It worked fine until it didn’t.

The silent car ride from the jet back to your apartment was so thick with tension, but not the one you’ve both become accustomed to over the weeks. No this was a different strain of anger, one that descended down to the primal nature of your relationship—you endangering yourself.

Spencer opens the door, barely waiting for you to enter behind him before slamming it shut. “That, what you did today, was fucking reckless.”

The anger flares through your widened eyes, “Reckless? I saved the hostages, Spencer. He would have killed them!”

“And what about you?”

“What about me, I had it handled.” you huff.

He raises his hands in exasperation, “He had a gun to your head!” he yells, “You have no idea what it’s like to see that.”

“This isn’t the first time someone drew a weapon on me, and there’s definitely more times than I can count when they’ve drawn one on you,” you pause, “Or is it different right now because you got deja vu?”

“What’s that supposed to mean—” Spencer’s face pales in recognition, “That’s not fair.”

“The hell do you mean it’s not fair? You expect me to believe otherwise?”

“He was going to shoot you!” he loudly repeats, “You don’t think I care about your safety?”

“I think you only give a shit right now because you thought another girl you loved was about to get her brains blown out in front of you. Again.”

He’s stunned into silence. Your words feel like a paralytic to Spencer. Like venom slowly traveling down his veins seizing any chance for his body to save himself. All the progress he thinks you both have made just unraveled itself into nothing. It’s paradoxical that his mind is quiet. You’re usually the reason his mind can relax, but somehow you’ve achieved the same outcome by metaphorically stabbing him square in the face.

He can’t understand when you developed the idea that he could care less about you. He can’t understand how you can even think he would be capable of 

of not being with you entirely. He can’t understand where along the line you started believing that he stopped loving you.

It may not be a sentiment you actually hold, but he prides himself on being a good profiler, and more so knowing you better than himself. He knows that’s what you’re thinking, and there’s nothing he can do to fix it.

He speaks under his breath after a couple of minutes,  “How long are we going to keep doing this?”

“Doing what—“

“This!” He gestures wildly with his hands. “This back and forth where you’ve convinced yourself you’re able to move past this but clearly can’t!”

You stare at him, “Look, I’m trying.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

The familiar sting burns the backs of your eyes, the first sign of your resolve crumbling. “That’s not fair.”

He sighs and moves closer, your head hanging low and finding the wooden floor patterns deeply interesting. “You won’t even look at me.” he whispers, “Do you still love me?”

You look up at him stunned, “Spencer…I—I do…It’s just…”

He feels his heart breaking in a new way, “That’s not convincing.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No, I guess I can't,” he shakes his head defeatedly. “I don’t know what else I can do, baby.”

“…I want to forgive you.”

Spencer’s eyes blur from tears, “But you can’t.”

“I don’t know how,” you whisper before a sardonic chuckle leaves you, “You know me, memory like an elephant.”

Spencer refrains from telling you that dolphins are actually the species with the longest memory capacity, and that the reason for possessing such a feature is to maintain the social dynamics and relationships that come with survival in the ocean. A dolphin’s memory is what keeps them rooted back to where they belong, being able to remember individuals and behaviors even after being apart for so long. That no matter how far they stray, they’ll always come home. 

He settles for a soft agreement, “Yeah, I do know you.”

You make the mistake of meeting his eyes, equally and tragically as broken as yours, puffy and red rimmed.

“I don’t know what to do.” you whisper brokenly.

“I don’t either.”

The silence weighs heavy in the living room. The metronomic tick of the clock becomes louder, the birds and the wind outside whistle louder. You’re cornered, forced to come to face the results. And like a prey backed into the corner you do what the prey do best—You run.

“I have to go.” you grab the keys and put your shoes on.

“What?” he steps closer, “You can’t just leave, we just got home.”

“I can’t be here right now,” your voice cracks, “I just…need some time to think.”l

Spencer’s heart falls straight through the floor. Time to think about what? Is this when the foundation beneath you both finally buckles under the immense pressure it’s been on for weeks, and you’re left to scavenge the ruins?

As much as it pains him to let you walk out the door, he knows that nothing would be accomplished at home and it would only hurt you more to stay.

“Okay.” he whispers.

“Okay.”

“Be safe.” I love you.

You look back, “I will. You too.” I love you too.

The door shuts gentler this time, as if careful not to disturb the few pieces of Spencer still left standing behind the door. It doesn’t matter, they’ve already fallen over. Any resolve he had left is slipping away with every step you take further away, never feeling more defeated in his life than this moment.

He trudges over to the study, hoping he can at least bury himself in work to distract himself from the turmoil of his reality. The desk is strewn across with files and papers, mentally making a list of the tasks he has to do. At the top of his to-do list is the Everett Lynch case, having just closed the case a few days back meaning the paperwork would be due to the brass soon.

Spencer glances over the open file and reviews the details of the final moments of the case, recalling the stark change in Lynch’s MO that still left him puzzled. The victimology and the profile just didn’t add up to what actually happened, why he ended up dying with his mother in the house. That wasn’t supposed to happen, Spencer wasn’t supposed to send five SWAT agent in not knowing their fate only seconds later. How the case simply ended anticlimactically after nearly a year long chase. A dull ache begins to form in his head as he thinks, the bureau is going to have a field day processing this case.

He rubs his forehead with his hand to soothe the pain building up, making a note to get painkillers after he finishes. As he continues to read the file he starts to see his confusion take a basis as the initial profile doesn’t add up at all to what actually happened, in fact for as long as he evaded the FBI he really shouldn’t have just, died.

Spencer freezes. Did he die?

Lynch wouldn’t just commit suicide, that was too easy. He watched the house blow up with him and his mother inside, not even including the agents the explosion took out with it. The pain in his head is too much to bear at this point and he decides that getting Advil can’t wait until he’s done. He stands up and immediately wobbles as he grips the desk for support. Through the blurred vision and spinning room Spencer tries to makes sense of Lynch’s discrepancy. 

Everett Lynch wouldn’t commit suicide, because he didn’t. 

“He’s still alive.” he realizes gravely. Then it all goes black.

———

You get in your car and drive off to god knows where, just not there. It’s sheer autopilot driving you to the other side of town, which is more than welcomed as the tears threaten to blur your vision coming down in hot trails. You end up pulling into the parking lot of your favorite donut shop, one that you discovered with Spencer a little before you started dating. There was time to kill after being paired up to visit the unsub’s  dump site and you were so insistent about needing a sweet treat, Spencer thought it was clinical.

“You’re acting like you’ll die if we don’t stop for a, what did you call it? A sweet treat?”

“I will!” you whine, “Don’t you know that girls, specifically me, are mandated to have at least one sweet treat per day?”

He pulls into the parking lot of the donut shop he’d spotted on the way there. “Oh yeah? What happens if you don’t?” he teases.

“You’ll see me as the unsub in the next case.”

Spencer can’t help the laugh that leaves him, loud and earnest. “Alright, c’mon. We already have enough criminals to last us till retirement.”

You and Spencer are definitely not together at this moment in time, but the little old lady owner of the shop really can’t believe otherwise as she watches you both bicker about which flavors you’re getting for the half dozen box. She’s almost certain you’re together as she watches Spencer end up getting all the flavors you wanted despite putting up a fight for others. And she’s fully convinced, with no room for sway, that you are together as Spencer pulls his card out before you can even protest and watches as you miss the look he gives you as you dramatically sigh in content after the first bite.

Spencer would later tell you after a few months together, that the donut shop was the first time he realized he was in love with you. You recall how the same half dozen would appear on your desk every Friday since that first visit, with one chocolate sprinkled donut missing but placed on a napkin on Spencer’s desk. You would joke that he pavloved his way into your heart with donuts, but wouldn’t reveal your true cards that you fell in love with Spencer after a month on the job. The donut shop happened the week after.

“You alright, hon?” the little old lady owner breaks your thoughts.

You look around and realize you’ve walked yourself into the shop. You wipe at your eyes quickly, “I’m okay, Dolores. Can I just get the usual half dozen please?”

She’s not convinced but it seems she knows better than to ask and pry. She gathers the usual six donuts for the box, slipping in an extra one just for good measure, and rings you up at the register.

“Seven right?” you mumble as you file through your bag for the loose ten.

Dolores smiles, “It’s on the house today, hon. Don’t worry.”

You look up at her, knowing she’s only doing that because you showed up with tear streaks on your face, “Oh, no it’s okay you don’t have to do that let me just—“

She pushes the box towards you, “You both tip enough to cover the box anyway, please just take it. Hope you feel better soon, hon.”

Her kind gesture thaws your heart out a little and you give her a small smile. “Thanks, Dolores.”

You walk back to your car, locking the doors once you get in. You don’t move to turn the car on, opting to allow your emotions to overflow again in solitude with the comfort of a bavarian kreme donut. The tears prick your eyes on instinct thinking of the current state of your life, of your relationship.

Spencer was right, have you convinced yourself you’re capable of moving past this? You do still love Spencer, you knew that much. But you are hurt, you are tired, and you just want to stop feeling like you’ll always come in second place even when there’s no one to occupy first place. You’ve waited so long to feel chosen, like someone has waited all their life for someone like you to come around. Meeting Spencer felt like finding the little daisies that grew in between the cracks of concrete, proof that despite your stone hard exterior you were still worthy of being loved.

The sound of your phone ringing jolts you up, almost dropping your donut. With your free hand you look at the caller and press accept.

“Hi, Emily.” you try to make your voice sound even.

“Hey we’ve got a—wait are you okay?”

You clear your throat, “Yeah, totally fine don’t worry. What’s up?”

It’s clear she doesn’t believe you but Emily really doesn’t have time right now, “Listen, Lynch is still alive.”

You almost choke. “What?”

“The casualty report doesn’t include Lynch and they couldn’t find his body anywhere. While they were searching the house they found tunnels. He escaped.”

“Fuck, okay what do you need me to do?”

“There’s a gas station clerk who thinks he saw him and his car, I need you and Matt to go check it out and see what he knows.”

You scramble to put your donut down and wipe your hands on the napkin, “Yeah, of course I’m on my way.”

“Okay, Matt will meet you there,” she pauses, “I…Is Spencer with you?”

Your heart clenched again, “No, he’s not. He’s at the apartment.”

Emily hums, “He didn’t pick up when I called, it’s okay I’ll send JJ and Penelope to go get him. Reconvene at the bureau in a couple hours?”

“Sounds good.” you hang up and immediately start driving over to the gas station. Something doesn’t feel right, you can feel it in your gut. You quickly check Spencer’s location just to be safe, and relax when you see he’s still at home. He’s probably just taking a nap.

What Emily decides you can’t ever know about is the call she gets twenty minutes later from a hysterically crying Penelope, who in between sobs tells her that they’re on the way to George Washington Hospital. That when JJ and Penelope opened the door to Spencer’s apartment he was passed out on the floor, blood dripping from his nose. How when JJ went to start CPR he entered a seizure and coded in the ambulance.

No, you can’t know this, because Emily knows that the call alone that she has to give you is going to shatter your broken pieces even further.

—

You pull out your phone to call Emily and see an incoming call from her, “Hey, I was just about to call you. The guy said he drove a red ford pickup, we were able to get the license plate from the security cameras but it came up as a stolen plate—“ 

Emily says your name in a tone you’ve never heard her use. It makes you stop in your tracks, an icy chill shooting down your spine, “What?”

“Something’s happened.”

You step outside of the gas station shop holding your breath, “What do you mean?”

Emily pinches the bridge of her nose, “It’s about Spencer, he’s…”

She pauses for too long. The panic rises fast. “Emily.”

“They found him passed out on the floor of his apartment. Penelope called 911 and they’re on the way to the hospital right now.”

No. 

No, no, no.

The color drains from your face as fast as your heart plunges to the ground. “Wh—what?”

She’s lying, she has to be right? You just saw Spencer literally a few hours ago and he was fine. No signs of distress or anything, she has to be lying. She has to be lying.

“The EMT thinks he has a brain bleed, it um…caused him to have a seizure when JJ and Penelope found him.”

The nausea rises before you can anticipate it, scanning your surroundings for a trash can and immediately hurling up the contents of your stomach. Wiping your mouth with your sleeve you put the phone back to your ear, “Which hospital?”

“George Washington Memorial, they should already be there by now.”

“Okay, I’m on the way.” you sniffle.

Emily doesn’t know what other encouraging words she can provide you, she doesn’t think any words exist to comfort herself even let alone you. “Keep me updated please.”

The call ends and you have to steady yourself on the nearby wall, head reeling with mountainous emotions and unable to make sense of any of them. 

You look around through blurred eyes for Matt calling out to him, “Matt, Matt give me the keys I need to go to the hospital.” you hold a shaky hand out.

He looks at you confused and concerned, “What? Are you okay, why do you need to go—“

“Sp—“ you stutter, unable to even speak the words into existence, “Spencer’s in the hospital.”

Matt’s face pales, “I’ll drive you, come on.”

—

“They said it’s a brain bleed.” you mumble after a few minutes of silence in the car.

“A brain bleed? How could that have…” he trails off in realization.

“What?” you ask nervously.

He grips the steering wheel harder, “The bomb, at the Lynch house.”

Fuck. The EMTs who checked him out that day said he only had a mild concussion, nothing else to be concerned about. A few cuts and scratches but nothing that wouldn’t heal. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen to him.

You sniffle and hastily wipe at your face again, your skin growing red with irritation with every contact.

Matt looks at you with a look he wouldn’t call pity, but certainly close, “It’s going to be okay, he’ll pull through. He always does.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as if it could prevent the fresh wave of tears from falling, “You don’t know that.”

He sighs deeply and turns into the hospital parking lot, stopping in front of the entrance, “Go in, I’ll park the car.”

You open the car door and rush inside the lobby, finding the receptionist immediately. She looks up at you and her face softens in empathy, “Who are you here for?”

“Um, Spencer Reid. He should have just gotten in.” you strain.

The receptionist clacks a few buttons on her keyboard before speaking again, “It looks like he’s in the ICU, are you blood related?”

“Are we…what?” you ask confused.

“Well honey, because he’s in the ICU we can only let in blood related family or spouses to stay with them.”

You outwardly deflate, “Oh…I—“

“She’s his fiancée!”

You look to the source of the new voice and are met with Penelope, donning matching red rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. Her eyes look at you in silent communication and you turn back to the desk, “Y—Yeah, I’m his fiancée.”

If the receptionist isn’t convinced she doesn’t show it, willing to turn a blind eye in pure understanding of the situation. “Room 204.”

“Thank you.” You duck down the hall scanning the numbers before coming up on 204, the door cracked open slightly. Your hand hovers over the handle in hesitation, scared of what you’ll find on the other side. Penelope comes up behind you and rests her hand on yours and helps you open the door.

The sight hits you like a truck. All the wires hooked up to his limbs pumping IV fluids and the heart monitor beeping steadily. He’s paler than you’ve ever seen him. His skin is clammy, the hair sticking to his forehead. You can see that from across the room and all you can think about is how uncomfortable he must feel from the sweat coating him. You used to tease him once upon a time when he’d sometimes take multiple showers a day because of how much it bothered him.

“Another shower? Spence, our water bill is about to be crazy.”

He laughs and waves you off, “Don’t worry about that, I can charge the water bill as bureau compensation.”

“Okay, one that sounds illegal. Two, the more time you spend in the shower, the less time you spend with me.” you moan with fake petulance.

You yelp as he suddenly sneaks up behind you, caging you to his chest with his arms, “So join me.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of getting clean?” you giggle, leaning your head back into the crevice of his neck.

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, “You do know what showers are for, right?”

You nod, “To get clean! It would get even dirtier before it got cleaner.”

“I think that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

The smile on your face grows the widest it can before you break off into a sprint down the hallway towards the bathroom, Spencer trailing behind with your laughs mixing in the light air.

You don’t know why you’re thinking so deeply about the state of his perspiration, maybe a convoluted defense mechanism your brain conjured up so you don’t have to come to terms with Spencer lying near comatose a few feet away.

Your feet hesitantly carry you closer to the bed, feeling somewhat calmed by the slow rise and fall of his chest. You lean down and look him over, as if you could see the damaged inflicted on him even though it’s nestled deep in his brain. Spencer always said his brain would lead to his demise, and you hope all those times you played it off as a joke that it cemented itself as one, a joke. That you would be able to see his hazel eyes open again and they’d fill you with reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere, that all he needed in this world was you, and that he loved you.

You will and wish and hope to have his eyes open. You try not to think about if you’ll ever get to see them again.

A choked sob escapes your throat before you can help it, your hand coming over your mouth to muffle the impact. Spencer is hurt. Spencer is fighting for his life, and you were fighting him not even a few hours ago.

“Oh, honey,” Penelope reaches for your shoulders and pulls you into a hug, “He’s gonna be okay, the doctors said the surgery went well. Just waiting for him to wake up now.”

You cry even harder and Penelope tightens her grip on you, determined to not let you fall further down the slope.

“W—We got into a fight,” you sniffle, “before I left. It was bad, Penny. He was so mad, and then I was so mad. And then I just left.”

“You didn’t know this would happen, honey. None of us did.”

“I didn’t even say I love you. Th—The last conversation we had was a fucking fight a—and now…” you cry, “He can’t die, Pen. He can’t die I didn’t even get to tell him—“

Penelope grabs your face with both of her hands, “Hey. No, we’re not doing that. We are not spiraling, not when there’s no reason to. Okay?”

Whatever response you had falls dead on your lips when you take another look at Spencer’s motionless body on the bed. The calmness on his face is a stark difference from the Spencer you saw only a few hours ago.

She was right, there’s nothing you can do right now but wait. You’d just have to trust that Spencer would pull through.

You almost chuckle dryly through the tears. Trust and Spencer? The irony of it all laughs in your face.

—

Spencer’s eyes blink open and adjust to the bright light blinding him. He takes in his surroundings and realizes he’s standing in the middle of the bullpen. That’s weird, he thinks, I thought I was in the study.

“Reid, you sure you don’t want to join me and Elle in Jamaica?” Derek sings, “My guy can swing you a great deal.”

Derek? Elle?

He snaps his head in the direction of the voice, seeing Derek not even looking in his direction but still looking towards Spencer. Just, a different and much younger Spencer.

“Have a great two weeks off everyone, you all deserve it. Don’t call me at my cabin.” Gideon rushes out as he beelines to the door right past Spencer. “Seriously, don’t call me.”

Gideon? But Gideon…died. Where is he?

The scene changes with a snap and suddenly he’s back in his apartment, his old apartment. The one he lived in before he moved in with you. He is definitely in a dream, though with the vividity and theme of important people in his past he’s not entirely sure he’s only sleeping. A head of blonde hair on his couch catches his eye. He slowly walks around and his breath hitches at who he sees.

“Maeve?”

She smiles softly, “Hi Spencer.”

He slowly walks around the couch and kneels in front of her. The tears prick his eyes before he can help it, “I didn’t think I’d get to see you again. I—I’m so sorry for—“

Maeve holds a hand up, “What happened to me wasn’t your fault, I promise. You did what you could. But that’s not why I’m here.”

“It’s not?”

She shakes her head. “You’re dying, Spence.”

His face falls, “I am?”

“Collateral from the explosion, you have a brain bleed.”

It takes a few minutes for him to comprehend what she said, and he can feel his head spinning fast in his head. He can’t actually be dying right? The explosion happened days ago and yet now is when his brain decides to tap out, that can’t be right.

It simply cannot be right because that’s when he remembers you and the last conversation he had with you, and he has to clutch his heart at the prospect of his fate.

He won’t know if you’ll ever forgive him, if you’ll ever learn to trust him again, if you even still love him. He won’t know anything if he dies. He cannot die.

“M—Maeve, I can’t be here I—“

She places her hand atop of his own and he feels her. He can feel her hand on his, like she’s real and here.  It’s alarming, and warm. “I know, it’s okay. C’mon, let’s go for a walk.”

Maeve gestures for him to follow her and before his eyes the scene changes again to a nearby park, one that looks a little too familiar to him.

She starts walking through the park, “We’re all okay up here you know? I get to read a lot more now, there’s so much time to read and postulate. Sometimes I get lucky and I can meet the authors. I got to meet Kant and Dostoevsky a while ago, very interesting people. Gideon plays with this nice little octopus friend. I know he’s having the best time.” she laughs, “But you, Spencer Reid, are not okay down there.”

He looks up at her and swallows, “I know.”

She turns onto the fork in the trail, “What’s holding you back?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs.

“I think you do know.”

A few silent minutes pass. “I…I’m scared to let myself be happy again,” he admits.

Maeve looks at him with a saddened smile, “And why’s that?”

Because everything he loves leaves him. Because when he laughs just a little too hard, he’s already scanning the surroundings waiting for the other shoe to fall. Because when Spencer feels he’s trekked up the mountain with long and winding breaths, something always seems to be waiting at the top ready to knock him down.

“Don’t think I deserve it, to be honest.” he admits, “I keep…messing up everytime.”

Maeve stops walking, “You love so deeply, Spencer. It’s a blessing and a curse.”

“Emphasis on the curse.” he deprecates.

“It’s only a curse because you don’t let yourself feel wholly. I know given everything that’s happened it’s hard but,” she pauses, “You’re not a clipped bird, Spence. You just…lost a few feathers. Nothing you can’t get back.”

It’s easier said than done when it feels like his mere existence causes you pain as of late.

“I feel like I have to hold parts of me back so I can protect her…from myself.”

Maeve turns to him, “She deserves all of you, Spence. It is a privilege to be loved by you, but it’s a greater privilege to be loved. And you deserve to feel loved.”

“What if I ruin it?” More accurately, what if he’s already ruined it, is what he means.

“You are not destined for sorrow and misery, despite what your life has made you think. She loves you. She would not have stayed this long if she didn’t. But there is one thing I think she could use from you.”

Spencer looks at her expectantly waiting for her to continue.

“She wants to feel chosen, Spencer. And I know you think you choose her everyday just by loving her. But the reality is, you can’t fully choose her without choosing yourself first. That means allowing yourself to be happy.”

A few stray tears streak down his face and he haphazardly wipes them away. For the entirety of Spencer’s life his purpose was to be of service to others. With his intelligence, his kindness, his courage. His needs always came second because the few times he thought to put himself first, disaster struck. 

When he met you this notion only reinforced itself, wanting to ensure he could make you as happy as he could. You became his priority and he didn’t mind that at all. It was easy being with you, you made life feel easy. So when Spencer started to let his guard down piece by piece, allowing himself the little bits of your happiness to seep into his being, he wasn’t thinking about the abyss that had always loomed over him his whole life.

He couldn’t, not when you managed to infiltrate his entire existence by wrapping and tethering yourself to him with strings of gold. How could he? You made things so easy.

But then prison happened. Then Cat, again. Then Maeve, again. Three strikes. It should have been game over by now. He broke your trust, betrayed your love and he wasn’t sure if you would even stay long enough to see the damage unfold. But you did, and he still can’t really figure out why.

So here he is in limbo? Purgatory? Some figment of his mind in the wake of near death that is giving him the opportunity to make amends. Not with Maeve or Gideon or you or any other grudge he has yet to settle in his life. No, he has the chance to make amends with himself and forgive himself for standing in the way of what he really deserves.

A faint beeping in the distance reels him back to the present moment, Maeve’s face coming into focus again. The dull ache in his eyes coming forward again with how many tears are falling.

“Love is our true destiny, we do not find the meaning of it alone, we find it with another.”

He smiles with a watery chuckle, “Thomas Merton.”

“Spencer, I promise you, you will be happy again. And forever. Just keep the door open when it comes knocking.”

The beeping starts to get louder, like it’s approaching him fast. A warm glow begins to build around him, then light. He looks around the park again and sees the trees and benches begin to blur. He looks at Maeve as she stands with a fond smile, her figure slowly fading as well.

“Take care, Spencer.” and with a blink Maeve is gone.

In the silence he is left in, he looks to the epitaph of Jason Gideon in front of him and back to the spot where Maeve was standing, whispering a soft, “You too.” before closing his eyes and succumbing to the beeping.

—

It’s been 4 hours since you’ve been sat next to his bed. You’d be a lot more concerned than you were, which is already a lot, if it wasn’t for his heartbeat monitor beeping steadily throughout the hours. A sign of life, as morbid as it sounds, but it’s hard to be rational given the circumstances.

It had taken all of 3.5 hours for you to braven up and hold his hand in comfort. Hour one you simply stared at his hand, as if it would regain mobility and reach out for you. Hour two you were able to place your hand on the bed, not anywhere near his obviously. But enough to feel close, satiated. By hour three you had your fingers mere millimeters from his own, feeling like a magnetic force of the same poles was repelling you.

The 3.5 hour mark is when the exhaustion of the day caught up to you, and finally allowed yourself to relax in his hand.

At hour 4.5 is when you felt the twitch.

You look up and whisper, “Spencer?”

He slowly opens his eyes, revealing his hazel brown irises with gold flecks on the insides that meet yours sitting right beside him. You can see the recognition begin to flood his face, but is stopped momentarily when he starts to panic realizing the breathing tube is still in his throat. You hit the call button besides his bed and watch the doctors rush in to help stabilize him back down.

It’s another two hours of testing and scans before the three of you are left alone again, with the nurse promising to check on him in a few hours.

You’re stiff next to him, unsure what to do now that he’s awake and perceiving you again. With a small voice you speak, “They said they found you in the study.”

Spencer racks his brain for memories of before his fall, only able to remember bits and pieces. He remembers fighting with you and when you left. He remembers walking to the study. And he remembers reading…”Lynch! Did you get him? He’s still alive, you have to call Emily—“

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you shush. “We know he’s still alive, they’ve almost got him right now. It’s okay.”

That seems to make him visibly relax knowing the immediate stressor was almost resolved. Now there’s just the matter of the other elephant in the room.

“You’re here.”

Your eyes soften as your brows raise in shock, “Of course I’m here, Spence.”

He stares at you and takes in your features—your puffy cheeks and red eyes, the skin around your nails picked to death, your lip nearly split in half from the bites and bleeding. He needs to apologize again, he knows that. But the second he opens his mouth you cut him off.

“Penny, can you give us a minute please?”

She smiles and stands, “Sure hon, I’ll be right outside.”

Once she leaves you turn back to Spencer, “We don’t have to talk about all of that anymore, it’s okay. You’re hurt and that’s more important right now.”

He should have expected that you would do this, selflessly push your discomfort and feelings down because someone you cared about was hurting. It was one of the few things he didn’t like that you did, and he’s not going to let it go again.

“Angel, you can’t forgive me just because you thought I was going to die.” he says sadly.

You’re taken aback. “I—I know.”

He swallows, “I really want you to.”

Your eyes blur again, “I know.” Another pause. “I’m trying really hard.”

A gentle squeeze, “I know.”

“I…I still love you, Spence. I don’t think that will ever change, but I’m nervous if one day it won’t be enough…that I won’t be enough.” you trail off.

Again, he shouldn’t be surprised that’s what you’re thinking. He hasn’t done a very good job at convincing you yet. It still hurts knowing that you feel that way.

“Do you know what I thought about everyday when I was in Millburn?”

You shake your head as he continues, “I thought about how when you eat cupcakes you tear the bottom half and stick it on top to make a cupcake sandwich. When we’re watching Doctor Who and you’re singing along to the theme song with only syllables. How you let me eat the olives on your plate and I give you the pickles on mine.”

“Why would you be thinking about that?” you ask confused.

“Because I don’t think I would have survived if I didn’t.”

The lump forms in your throat, “But…you took me off the visiting list after the first time I came to see you.”

“I couldn’t let you keep seeing me like that, honey.” he strains, “The way they were looking at you, what they did to me. I had to protect you.”a

You swallow hard, a few tears falling down your face, “Th—That’s not fair, Spence. I understand why you did it, but then when all the other shit happened… I don’t know what I was supposed to believe. I couldn’t stop wondering if I ever was enough for you.”

Spencer can feel his heart splintering.

“You will always be enough, because it is always you. God, sweetheart it’s not even a question of how much, it just is. I see you in everything I do—you’re the tangled headphones we use to listen to music flying back on the jet. You’re the annotations I make when I read something that reminds me of you, or if I think you’d enjoy it. You’re the smell of bavarian kreme donuts from Dolores’ even though the chocolate sprinkle ones are far superior.”

His heart blooms hearing a soft giggle from you, an earnest smile forming on your face.

“You are entangled in the things that make me happy, and you make them too good to be true. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I meant it when I said I would spend all of time making it up to you. You are my Catalina comet, and I love you.”

You can’t help the sob that leaves you as you remember the memory.

“I’m cold Spence, are you sure we’ll be able to see it?”

He tugs you closer under his arm as he keeps trekking to find the perfect spot, a chaste kiss to your temple, “I promise it’ll be worth it. Come on, I think it's a good spot over there.”

You help Spencer set out the blanket on the ground and use the extra one to wrap around you both, huddling closer together as you wait for the celestial body to make its appearance.

“The first time they did the calculations they used old observational data that led to some incorrect results, and they thought the orbit was only four years.”

“They just got it wrong?”

“Not everyone gets it right on the first try, sweet girl.” he says softly, “But then they did the math again, made sure all the factors and numbers were correct. And you know what they found?”

You ponder for a moment, “Did they realize the orbit was longer?”

Spencer beams down at you, “My smart girl. That’s exactly what they found. So when they did the calculations again, they found out that the Catalina comet is even more special than anyone thought. It’s even more of a rare sighting to get to see it, once in a lifetime really.”

You hang onto his every word, captivated by the story, “Do people wish on comets?” you ask doe eyed.

His hand smooths your hair back, “They do, some say the rarer comets have extra special energy to aid their wishes.”

You look at him skeptically, “Do you really believe that?”

“Do you?”

You look back to the sky, “I think I do.”

Spencer doesn’t look away from you, “Then I do too.”

You giggle and lightly shove him, “Cheesy…” He smiles fondly and pulls you closer into his chest, his arms warming you up before you gasp, “Look!”

There across the night sky streaks the Catalina Comet in all her glory, Spencer watches the comet track through Ursa Major and before he can start telling you about why it goes that path, you’ve already clamped your eyes shut and squeezed his hand, silently gesturing for him to do the same.

He complies, obviously. You open your eyes again after making your wish, “Did you make yours?”

Spencer opens his eyes and admiringly looks at you, “Yeah, I did angel.” 

He didn’t need to make any wishes.

“Spence…” you whine through sobs.

His hand comes up shakily to wipe the tears from your cheeks, “Didn’t mean to make you cry, honey.”

“Well, what did you expect by bringing that story up?” you laugh with fake anger.

“To be fair, you were already crying.” he chuckles.

You scoff, “Mean.” You look at his eyes, and really look at him and see nothing but love and adoration staring back at you. You take a deep breath, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I believe you.” his eyes soften, you continue, “I love you.”

He brings your hand up to his lips and gently kisses it, “I love you so much. I’m sorry again, sweet girl.”

You lean up to him on the bed and press a soft kiss to his lips, and Spencer can feel his wounds start to hurt less and less. “You should get some rest, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You make yourself as comfy as you can whilst sat on the armchair, bent over to be able to rest your head next to Spencer. It feels okay for a bit, and then he tangles his hand in your hair gently moving back and forth and suddenly you’re satisfied with never moving ever again.

The quiet air between you both is enough to lull you to sleep, before a thought runs through your mind.

“You know something funny,” you mumble, “Pen told the receptionist I was your fiancée so they’d let me see you.”

And poor Spencer, in between his sleepy haze and the dull ache of pain from his injuries, only hears the word fiancée.

“You found the ring?” he sighs, “I thought I hid it well.”

You still under his hand.

“…There’s a ring?”

His eyes shoot open, realizing he misheard you and tries to play it off, “So…Penelope lied to staff. Tsk Tsk.”

“There’s a ring.” you say pointedly, the corners of your lips upturned to reach a smile.

Spencer thinks he can try and get out of this but decides it’s better to come clean, “Fine, okay. Of course there’s a ring.”

“Of course?”

The surprise on your face honestly stuns Spencer, and he feels a little saddened that you were in disbelief of the possibility.

“Yeah baby, of course.”

Your bottom lip wobbles with a creeping suspicion of his answer, “How long have you had it?”

“Got it after our six month.”

You shakily exhale. There is no ounce of doubt in your body that he loves you, and that you really are all he needs. “ ‘M sorry I ruined the surprise.”

He grins, “It’s okay, you won’t know when I’m going to do it. It’ll knock you off your feet, I promise.”

You definitely aren’t expecting it during a Planetarium date months later where he got the museum people to show the Catalina Comet passing over you both as he got down on one knee. You are expecting the endless stream of tears from the both of you, the aching cheeks from smiling too much, and the multiple missed attempts at sliding the ring on from how much you both were shaking.