#it took me way longer than expected but i was determined to see it through!!

[ikkyfics]

Hero's Kiss

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: “Hey babe,” you said, the word coming out louder and firmer than you expected. “I’ve been waiting for you for a while.” Dave blinked again, confused. “Huh? Waiting…?” Before he could finish the sentence, you closed the gap between you, your heart racing. “Please,” you whispered, your voice soft and almost trembling. “Kiss me. Just trust me.”

Warnings: a nasty guy, but nothing serious

request from my dear @lilyypotter1234 (one of my most beloved readers in the whole world, seriously, you are absolutely cute), i hope you like it <333

Masterlist

It was just any afternoon, and you were walking calmly through the comic book store, trying to decide whether it was worth buying a new issue or saving your money for a little longer to buy those jeans you saw earlier. What was worth more: a new X-Men edition or a pair of jeans that would make your legs look fantastic? It was a tough choice.

You were still thinking when someone approached, a guy, probably your age or a little older, with a smile curving his lips and bright eyes. “Hey, princess,” he said, the smile widening a little more. Your eyebrows furrowed, but you replied with a “hey” before turning your eyes back to the shelf.

“Can I help you pick something out?” he continued, not picking up on your disinterest. You forced a polite smile, trying not to be rude.

“Thanks, but I think I’m good for now.”

He didn’t move away. In fact, he seemed even more determined to strike up a conversation.

“You like comics? You don’t seem like the type, you know?” He let out a light laugh, as if he was trying to be charming.

Your hands gripped the strap of your purse, the discomfort beginning to grow in your chest. “Yeah, I like them. I think everyone has their own type.”

“Oh, sure. But seriously, you seem more like the kind of girl who likes romance or fashion, not comic books.” He laughed again, but it didn’t sound so harmless anymore.

You tried to discreetly step away, but he followed every move, blocking any attempt to escape the situation.

“Hey, wait, princess. What’s the problem? I’m just being friendly.”

His words sounded almost like an accusation, laden with an insistence that made the knot in your throat tighten even more. You took a step back, but he subtly moved forward, blocking your exit. The store suddenly felt smaller, and every movement of yours seemed analyzed by that gaze that made your discomfort palpable.

You looked around, your heart hammering in your chest, desperately searching for an escape route. That’s when your eyes found him.

Dave Lizewski.

He was a little farther away, near a shelf full of limited editions. His relaxed posture was familiar, almost comforting. Dave had his head tilted to the side, completely absorbed in reading a comic book, his glasses slipping down his nose and the tips of his brown hair slightly falling over his eyes.

You recognized him immediately. You weren’t close friends, but enough to exchange a few words at school now and then. He always had a crooked smile and an awkward joke ready, making you feel like he was… safe. Maybe the only safe person right now.

Without thinking much, you made your way toward him. Your legs felt heavier with each step, like the nervousness was pulling you back, but the need to escape was stronger. When you got close, Dave finally noticed your presence, looking up from behind his glasses. He blinked, surprised to see you so suddenly.

“Hey babe,” you said, the word coming out louder and firmer than you expected. “I’ve been waiting for you for a while.”

Dave blinked again, confused. “Huh? Waiting…?”

Before he could finish the sentence, you closed the gap between you, your heart racing. Your hands briefly touched his chest, gently pushing him back against the shelf. He stumbled slightly, his eyes wide as you stood on tiptoe and brought your lips to his ear.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice soft and almost trembling. “Kiss me. Just trust me.”

Dave froze. You felt his chest rise and fall quickly under your hands, and for a moment, you feared he might push you away. But he didn’t have time to react. Before any words could leave his mouth, you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss started hesitantly, a light, unsure touch. But then you felt Dave relax. His hands, which had been by his sides, rose with an almost adorable hesitation, resting on your waist. His fingers were warm against your skin even through your clothes, and the touch was enough to make your heart leap.

What started as a request for help quickly turned into something more. The kiss gained a depth that surprised you. It wasn’t just the nervousness, the desperation to escape the previous situation—it was a real, intense moment. His lips were soft, but there was a firmness in the way he held you, as if he wanted to anchor you there.

When you finally pulled away, the world around you seemed to have disappeared completely. Dave looked at you like he’d just been struck by lightning. His face was flushed, his brown eyes sparkling behind the lenses of his glasses.

“I… Sorry, I…” you started, but the words seemed tangled in your throat.

Dave blinked a few times, clearly trying to process what had just happened. “What… Why…?”

You took a deep breath, looking over your shoulder. The guy who had been bothering you was still nearby, but now he was looking at you with a disapproving expression, as if he’d finally gotten the message. Turning your eyes back to Dave, you felt warmth rise in your face.

“There was a guy behind me. He was… persistent. I didn’t know what to do,” you explained, your voice coming out quieter than you intended. “I thought you could help.”

Dave followed your gaze toward the guy, and something in his expression changed completely. The discomfort and surprise faded, replaced by something much firmer, something that seemed like protection.

“You said he was bothering you?” Dave asked, his voice lower now, but filled with a seriousness that caught you off guard.

You just nodded, unable to find the words. It was strange seeing Dave like this. At school, he always seemed a little lost, with geeky t-shirts and books under his arm. But now, with his eyes locked on the guy and his posture more upright, he seemed like a different person.

“I get it,” he said, almost to himself. Before you could react, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders.

The touch was firm, but in a way that made you feel protected, not trapped. He pulled you closer, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his fingers gently squeezing your shoulder in a small, reassuring gesture. Your body reacted before your mind could process it, relaxing under his touch.

Dave took a step forward, positioning both of you directly in the guy’s line of sight. His gaze was firm, more so than you’d ever seen it. There was no hesitation, just a calm confidence that contrasted completely with the Dave you thought you knew.

“Is there a problem here?” he asked, his tone calm but loaded with a clear intent.

The guy looked at both of you, his face contorted in a mix of confusion and irritation. He seemed to size Dave up for a moment, as if deciding whether it was worth responding.

“No, no problem at all,” he muttered, finally looking away. The discomfort was evident, but he took a few steps back before disappearing through the store.

You let out a sigh you hadn’t realized you were holding in. The tension that seemed to hang in the air began to dissipate, but Dave’s arm was still around you, warm and secure.

“Are you okay?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you. His tone was completely different now—softer, almost affectionate.

“Yeah, I…” You looked at him, noticing for the first time how close he was. Dave’s face, always marked by shyness and awkward expressions, now seemed more serious, more present. But the blush coloring his cheeks betrayed that he was still the same sweet guy, even though he had just completely surprised you.

“I just… didn’t expect this from you,” you admitted, your voice coming out quieter than you meant.

He laughed, a short, almost nervous sound. “This what? That I could scare off a guy with glasses and a Batman shirt?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “No, that. This side... protective. It’s different.”

He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, his arm still around your shoulders as if he didn’t want to break the façade you two had created. “Well, I’m not too bad at it, right? I just thought… I couldn’t leave you alone with that guy.”

There was something in the simplicity of his answer, in the honesty without pretense, that made your heart warm.

“Thank you, Dave. Seriously. You… made me feel safe,” you said, and there was no hiding the smile that accompanied your words.

He looked at you for a moment, and his smile appeared slowly, like it was contagious. “I’m glad to hear that. Anything… just call me, okay? For anything.”

You felt his arm tighten slightly around your shoulders, such a small gesture but one that said so much. Dave Lizewski—always awkward, always a bit shy—had just transformed, at least in your eyes, into someone you knew you could trust.

When Dave’s arm finally moved from your shoulders, the space between you seemed to have subtly, yet intensely, changed. It wasn’t just the kiss or the uncomfortable situation you had just faced. It was the way he looked at you now, with that glimmer in his eyes that you didn’t remember seeing before, a mix of concern, mild surprise, and… something else. Something sweet and almost vulnerable.

You felt strange with the proximity, as if the world around you had shrunk, and you two were the only ones there. The touch he had given your shoulders still felt warm, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something much more between you than just a simple act of help.

Then, without meaning to, the question came out, impulsive but full of sincerity that you couldn’t hide.

“And can I… thank you properly, hero?”

Dave froze, his eyes widening in surprise, and you saw the blush spread across his face adorably fast. It was as if the world was playing with him, weaving another layer of embarrassment that made him even cuter. He ran a hand through the back of his neck, clearly nervous, trying to find an answer that didn’t sound completely flustered.

“Uh… Uh… Sure. I… I don’t know… well, what do you have in mind?”

You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. His nervousness, the way he was still trying to keep control, made you feel a surge of affection for him, more intense than you expected.

Without answering, you took a step closer, keeping your gaze fixed on him. He seemed a little lost in you, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses, and you couldn’t resist. This time, when your lips met, it was different. There was no rush, no expectation, just a sweet kiss filled with affection that made everything around you disappear.

The kiss started light, but soon turned into something deeper, softer. As if, somehow, this gesture was the only thing that made sense. His tongue touching yours, lips moving in perfect harmony, every touch and movement making the world calmer, more certain.

When you finally pulled away, you were still so close that the air between you seemed charged with something new, something beginning to form.

Dave looked at you, his eyes brighter than before, and let out a nervous little laugh, his voice husky. “I… I liked that.”

“Me too,” you replied, smiling shyly. “But… what now?”

He hesitated for a second before running a hand over his face, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “Well… if you want, we can do this right. Like, in a place… without weird guys and comic book shelves in the way.”

You raised an eyebrow, smiling, a feeling of happiness spreading in your chest. “Oh, yeah? And where would this ‘place’ be?”

“Maybe a café? A movie? Or whatever you want. The point is… I want to see you again, outside the store. No weird stuff bothering you. Just the two of us.”

Your smile widened, and a wave of warmth filled your chest. Something inside you warmed with his words, with the sweetness he conveyed, the way he seemed to genuinely care, in such a simple and genuine way.

“I’d love that,” you said. “Can we set it up… for any day next week?”

Dave gave a shy smile, still with his hand on the back of his neck, like he was trying to keep control, but the smile couldn’t have been more sincere. “It’s a date. I’ll call you.”

You nodded, still smiling, and he looked so radiant at that moment that the world around you seemed brighter, easier to navigate.

[cantobear]

[oc] 💘

[connorsui]

Baby Blues || Imagine ||

Zayne x Wife! Reader

Note: I apologize for how this fic turned out, but my mind really made me want sum body worship with zayne

It was the middle of the night, and the house was still cloaked in the kind of silence that only settled after everyone else was asleep. You stood alone in the dim light of the bedroom, having just returned from the nursery after putting the baby back down. The weight of exhaustion hung heavy on your shoulders, but it was something else that had drawn you to the mirror—something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

The woman staring back at you was... unrecognizable. The dark circles under your eyes, the weary curve of your shoulders���this wasn’t the same woman who had met Zayne with a carefree smile all those years ago. Nor was it the same woman who had carried the fierce determination of early pregnancy, filled with hope, strength, and the thrill of creating life. No. The reflection that stared back seemed distant, foreign. As if each moment, each day, had taken something from you without giving it back.

Your fingers trembled slightly as they traveled over your skin, pressing at the softness of your waist, the roundness of your thighs, the tender flesh beneath your arms. Every inch felt heavier than it once had, like a reminder of how much had changed. The more you touched, the deeper your frown became. Slowly, almost as if you couldn’t help it, your hands lifted the hem of your shirt, revealing the silvered stretch marks and the small, stubborn bump that still lingered on your stomach—a testament to the life you had brought into the world.

But now, it felt like a stranger’s body. The once-familiar curves that Zayne used to trace so adoringly with his hands now seemed like distant memories. You turned to the side, trying to find something in the reflection that felt like you, something beautiful. You forced yourself to look longer, harder, as if searching for the woman you used to be. But the more you stared, the more all you could see was the evidence of change—change you weren’t sure how to embrace.

Unbeknownst to you, Zayne had arrived home. The door clicked softly as he entered, his footsteps slowly echoing up the stairs as he called your name, but no reply came. Quietly, he made his way toward the bedroom, his heart tightening as he caught sight of you.

The door was left ajar, and there you were, bare except for your underwear, staring at your reflection with sadness and resignation. His voice, soft but edged with concern, broke the silence.

“Love, what are you doing?”

Startled, you glanced at the mirror, catching his reflection before turning around. “Zayne! I... I didn’t hear you come in. When did you get back?”

Your voice faltered. Zayne’s gaze softened as he took in the weight of your expression, the unspoken self-doubt written on your face. He didn’t need an explanation—he already knew.

He stepped forward, his eyes never leaving yours, his voice gentle. " —You don’t have to hide from me, you know." His hand reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "I’ve seen you at your best, at your worst... but this?" He paused, looking you over with a mixture of concern and love. "This isn’t something I want you feeling alone about."

Your breath caught in your throat as his words hit deeper than you expected. “I wasn’t... hiding,” you managed to whisper, though you knew he saw through it.

Zayne tilted his head, a small, sad smile forming on his lips. "No? Then why are you looking at yourself like this right now? Like you’re seeing a stranger instead of the woman I fell in love with?"

You glanced away, unable to meet his gaze, your fingers still clutching the hem of your shirt you have removed. "Because… I don’t look like the woman you fell in love with anymore, Zayne. I don’t look like… myself."

His brow furrowed, and without another word, he closed the space between you, his hands gently settling on your waist. "What does that even mean?" His voice was soft, but there was a quiet intensity in it. "You think because your body has changed, I’d love you any less?"

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears threatening to spill. “It’s not that I think you’d love me less... it’s just... I don’t feel like the same person anymore. I don’t look the same. I don’t feel ..beautiful.”

He sighed softly, leaning his forehead against yours. "If only you could see what I see."

Slowly, his hands moved to the places you had been examining with self-doubt, his touch gentle but deliberate. "This," he began, fingers grazing your waist, "is where you carried our child. Where you nurtured and gave life. How could that be anything but beautiful?"

Your heart clenched at his words, your voice barely audible. "Zayne..."

His hands slid down to your thighs, his voice lowering. "And these? You’ve always been strong, but now?" He gave a soft, appreciative squeeze. "Now you’re stronger than ever."

“Zayne…”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, trailing his lips up to your neck, each touch slow and full of affection. “And these arms,” he whispered, tracing the soft curve of your biceps, “have held me through everything. There’s nothing about you that I could ever see as anything less than extraordinary.”

Tears welled in your eyes, his words wrapping around you like a protective embrace. You closed your eyes, gripping his arms tightly as the weight of your emotions broke free. "Please, Zayne... You don’t mean all of that..."

Then his voice dropped to a low murmur, full of the quiet intensity that always made your heart race. "Then let me prove it to you," he whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Let me show you just how much I mean every word I say."

His hand found yours, gently guiding you toward the bed as his lips continued to press soft kisses along your neck. And as you followed, his touch, his presence, his love enveloped you, reminding you that in his eyes, you were—and always would be—perfect.

[diejager]

Could you please do a platonic yandere Vladimir Makarov with teenage daughter reader? Where he finds out that he has a daughter and is watching her but after awhile he decided to kidnap her to keep her safe from anyone and anything.?

Cw: DARKFIC, protective dad, kidnapping, spoiling, isolation, platonic yandere, tell me if I missed any.

He hadn’t expected his drunken one night stand to come back to him seventeen years later, at the peak of his revolution and power in the world. It had left his mind by the end of the week, where he spent a night with a pretty woman that he’d approached in the joy and mirth of winning a seat in the political image of Russia, his seat secured and power promised. He was - felt - unstoppable at that point.

Then he learned he had a daughter, a sweet girl that looked like a perfect mix of him and your mother. Thrust into the beginning of your adulthood and the closing chapter of your childhood, you had grown so prettily, adorable and loving. You were perfect in his eyes. Receiving the love of a mother, being pampered by her with the little amount of money she could scrounge to send you to school and provide for you. She truly cared for you despite being a mistake, a regret that reminded her of their coupling years ago.

While he believed in receiving motherly affection, he didn’t like the way you lived. So poor and hungry, denied the riches and luxury of his name and money. He wouldn’t have you live like that. So he took you, flew down to your quaint home, dressed finely and followed by his entourage while he stared down your mother, waiting for you to come back home from school. He’d forgotten her name - your mother - but all that mattered was you. He knew your name, your hobbies and preferences, but he’d like to hear them from you, to know you by your own words and acts rather than the video surveillance and all the digging he had his men do. 

And when he saw you in person, standing anxiously before him, you looked much more beautiful before him than through his screen. He saw the apprehension in your eyes, the small frown that pinched as you fussed about your mother’s fearful expression, using yourself to protect her from him and his men, ignoring her pleas for you to stand behind her, to let her protect you. But you were fiercely protective and loyal, something he expected from his daughter, yet was still surprised by the depth of it, blindly loyal and faithfully protective to a fault. 

“This…” she didn’t know how to explain this situation, he could see it as plainly as the blackness of his suit, “He’s your father, sweetheart.”

Your face broke between pain, shock and disbelief, but none directed at her, only to him whom you glared so powerfully. You were still so determined to protect your mother, knowing that she hid him from you and had never tried to reach out to him —not that he could blame her, he wasn’t a merciful man, neither easily reachable, nor easy to face. 

He gave you his name and smiled, pulling the sweetest grin he could, seeming soft and tender for a ruthless man like him. All for his daughter, the gem that would inherit his empire. Ever so polite, you muttered your name, voice slightly shaky. You took after your mother, taking her last name rather than his, one that screamed power and danger, but he’d have it changed, no daughter of his wouldn’t be given the name Makarov.

He was satisfied with this, and with little need to stay here any longer, he stood and approached you, his hand calling yours to have you accompany him home. He would have you brought home, where you rightfully belonged. On a throne by his side, dressed in the best silk and fabric his money could gift you, given the best education and taught by the best academic in both English and Russian, and if possible, you’d be taught other arts: literature, ballet, piano, theatre and language. 

But he was… somewhat disappointed that you shook your head, declining his invitation to come willingly. He understood that you’d have to start over again, uprooted and starting anew in a strange world without your mother. Truly, he knew how that felt, but he’d grown, he became better and wanted the same for you: to be better and deserve better. 

“Mom!” your cries and scream hurt him, the sound chiseling at his heart, fighting him to return o your mother’s side.

His men held your mother back, careful not to harm her as per his words, he didn’t need her health jeopardised. He had plans of paying her for caring for you, giving her a monthly cheque to support herself, eternally grateful that she sacrifice everything for you. You were now under his care, protected under his watchful eyes and international spread of allies and influence.

“Don’t cry, милая,” he cradled you, seated on his lap as he wiped away your tears, his hushed but steady voice trying to soothe you, “We’re going home.”[darling]

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯  Decorating Sakura’s Room 『 ♡ sakura haruka x reader 』

content // after seeing sakura's empty room for the first time, you're determined to make him feel more at home with a few additions.

note // tumblr decided not to post this yesterday for softie sunday lol so here it is!

Sakura's always deterred you from coming back to his place for your date nights, avoiding the topic altogether by offering to meet up at Pothos or to watch movies at your place instead. For the first month or so of dating, you didn't question it much, but now? It's getting suspicious. What did he have to hide from you?

"C'mon, we always go to my apartment. Why do you never have me over?"

Your demand has Sakura sweating, unable to come up with a logical excuse to keep you away any longer. He knows damn well that you can see right through his lies...and he has a terrible poker face around you.

"Fine, but don't expect much," he mutters, stomping passed you and continuing down the street. When you approach his front door, he takes a deep breath before twisting the handle.

"Do you not lock your door?!" You exclaim, noticing he didn't have a set of keys on him. "Saku, that's dangerous as hell!"

"S'not a big deal," he mumbles before kicking his shoes off into the corner, completely ignoring the shoe rack behind the door. "Don't have anythin' to steal, anyways."

You're confused by his words until you get a decent look at the apartment. It's...bare. Not a single decorative item in sight.

"Did you just move into this place?" you ask, confused. You're slowly making your way back to his bedroom, awestruck by the lack of evidence that anyone lives here.

"Nah, been here since I got to Makochi."

You turn to face him, a sad glint in your eyes before shaking your head. It makes him swallow nervously, the tips of his ears warming by the second. You don't say another word about it for the rest of the day.

A couple days pass until the two of you have plans again. You insist to meet at Sakura's place, and after lots of begging, he begrudgingly agrees. When you finally arrive to his place, you can barely knock on the door with how full your hands are with numerous bags of gifts. He opens the door as your mid-swing with your foot to "knock," immediately overwhelmed by the amount of stuff on your person.

"Th' hell is all this?!" Sakura shouts while attempting to grab a few of the bags from your hands. "Yer like a walkin' target with all this! Get in here already!"

"Sorry, Saku. I couldn't help it."

Sakura places the bags on the floor, slowly peaking through them to investigate just what the hell you've unloaded into his space. There are tons of essential items in neutral tones - a few sets of towels, a bath mat, two pillows and silk cases, a 4 set of plates and bowls, silverware, a pair of black house slippers, a brand new reusable water bottle, a water filter for the fridge, and a picture frame.

"I might've went a little overboard," you say sheepishly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "I felt bad you didn't have anything to make your home feel like your own. So I got you some things to warm it up, make it feel more permanent and a place you like, not just one you sleep in."

Sakura's speechless - devastated, even. He can't comprehend what he did to deserve your sweetness, biting his lip to keep his emotions caged. His cheeks are ablaze as he picks up the picture frame, noticing the plastic film is missing and there's a familiar set of pictures behind the glass.

"I went ahead and put in the pictures we took at the photo booth from the theater on our first date, you don't need to keep⎯ "

Your silenced by Sakura's lips capturing yours, his shaky hands cradling your face. Your squeak of surprise makes his heart skip a beat.

"Thank you," he whispers as you part, moving to wrap you up in a tight hug. "Yer...always so warm, like bein' under the sun on a hot day. I'm still getting used to that feelin', but this helps more than you know."

Your heart swells as you lay your head on his shoulder, absorbing all of his affection in the moment.

"Of course, Sakura. You deserve to be happy and feel like you belong."

His grip tightens on your shirt, a shiver running down his spine at your words. One day, he'll be able to tell you how you've made him feel at home for awhile now, and that the material possession are a nonfactor.

You pull back from his hug and pat him on the shoulders. "I'll help you put everything away and whatnot."

The two of you spend the next hour unpacking all of the goodies you've bought, leaving the picture frame for last. Sakura grabs the frame and paces the apartment a few times, pondering where exactly he wants to put it until the perfect spot pops into his mind.

Right above the shoe rack so you can welcome him home every single day with your bright smile.

『 #reis softie sundays 』

[fanofthings20]

Rio Vidal x Reader Angst Request

This was requested by @miraslittlecrow. I hope this story is what you were hoping for! Thank you for the request and the fun challenge, I'm sorry it took me so long to finally posted it and I do apologize if this is a complete disaster!!

All the promtps are highlighted in bold and were created by the amazing and talented @me-writes-prompts

Without further ado, after 14-hour days for 7 straight, internet issues, about 16 rewrites, and changing the prompts about three times here is the story. Until next time farewell and happy Agatha All Along episode 7 night!!

___________________________________________________________

It was after midnight when a bloody, beaten, and worn-down soul returned home. Trying their hardest to stay silent to not alert their wife now that they were finally home after being delayed for an additional two days than the original eight days that was originally expected. You would have been back two hours ago but you were determined to patch yourself up the best you could so your wife who would no doubt already be worried about the delay, it would only stress her to see injuries and put the lives you just risked everything for in grave danger from her wrath. This is the downside to having the job of a life guardian with protection witch abilities while your wife is Lady Death who is protective and quick to anger.

Turning into the living room has you feeling lightheaded and your using the back of the couch as a crutch to keep yourself upright. You waited for a few minutes till the feeling passed thinking it was safe managing to round to the front of the couch before feeling a wet sensation against your left hand that was holding your right side. Pulling your hand off your side you see that the stitches for that large gash had ripped again and you'd already lost so much blood you barely made it onto the couch before the rest of your strength left you.

Meanwhile, Rio had been forced to collect more souls in the last four days than she would have liked. She would much rather wait at home for y/n to return, given that they were already two days behind their return date. Unfortunately, Death waits for no one, and Rio was super-speeding the process intending to get home faster. Finally, arriving at the house for the last two souls that needed to be collected tonight it happened to be an elderly couple. Rio always enjoyed collecting elderly couples who passed together because it was well deserved. Even though she was in a rush to get home she took her time with this couple getting to know them while providing a smooth transition.

When she returned to the living world she felt a searing pain in her chest at the same time it felt like a soul was close to collection. The searing pain was from the bond with her wife that alone was concerning enough but in occurrence as the death call skyrocketed Rio’s panic and in her rush to get home she teleported to the wrong location twice before finally making it home. Running up the path barreling through the door, and using magic to close the door the house was dark no lights had been turned on. Rio was using their bond to range how close she was to y/n and her ability to adjust to the darkness to rush up the stairs to their bedroom.

Upon crossing the bedroom’s threshold she noticed the room was untouched. Stopping long enough to check the bathroom before she rushed back downstairs, she was on the way to their back porch which was your favorite spot had it not been for the weak whimpering sound you made on the couch from jostling your injury. The sound had her turned around and on her knees at your side in a split second using her magic she turned on the living room lamps which illuminated your state to her. Normally nothing would phase her but your bruised state and the extent of your injuries were unlike any you had ever bared before. She knew the insane risks of your job as a life guardian but had been managing until now but she could no longer put off the conversations she had been withholding from you anymore.

Your voice was so weak when you tried putting on the brave act of “It’s fine, I’m okay-“ but she was quick to gently cut you off with “No you’re not, you’re injured and it’s all their fault!”. She was so sick of the fools who lived without abandon and required a life guardian to keep living. If she could she’d gladly take all their souls in an instant to keep you from harm but she couldn’t break the cycle of life rules without major consequences. If you didn’t require her immediate attention and care to keep you from being the next soul she was forced to collect she would be out that door in a second to give the person you risked everything such a life-altering scare to keep them from needing you ever again.

But you needed her now, especially with the large gash that was gushing blood out. She took out her favorite curved knife to cut your shirt off so she could have full access to your injuries to heal them. When your shirt had been removed and the true extent of your injuries was revealed to her, she was scared that she couldn’t heal it. The gash went from your right side across your abdomen it was deep with significant blood loss your other symptoms included breathing faster than normal, feeling confused and weak, sweating, low body temperature, fast pulse and slowly losing consciousness.

Rio tried to be gentle but she could only go so far when she had to put her hands directly on your wounds to heal it with her magic. Putting pressure on your wounds and the magic closing them again, causing you immense pain that had your already exhausted body past its limit to where your whimpering increased along with your feeble attempts to get away from Rio’s hands. Your rational side knew Rio was helping but you were so confused by the pain and blood loss that you weren’t capable of seeing it as helping. Rio couldn’t take her hands away from your wounds yet so all she could currently offer you were words of love to try and ease your confusion and discomfort.

“Cara Mia, I know it hurts”

“Your going to be okay”

“It’s almost over mi amor”

“We are going to have a long conversation when this is all over”

Rio had finally finished healing your wounds and could take her hands off your abdomen. You had passed out when the wound was halfway through mending. After she checked your heartbeat and breathing status, she walked to the kitchen where she collected a bowl of water and a hand towel to wash both her hands and clean you off the best she could. When you were cleaned off Rio took a few minutes to lay her head over your abdomen to feel you breathing and leave a trail of kisses along where your newest scar lies trying to calm her racing heart and remind herself you were still here with her. There wasn’t much she could offer for blood loss but two potions, food, hydration, and rest.

When she left you this time it was a return trip to the kitchen to clean the bloody bowl and prepare the potions and food. Who knows how long you’ll be passed out for so it was a waiting game for Rio which gave her time to think about one of your earlier interactions and what she wanted to say to you after all these years of holding back. One of her favorite interactions was when you had presumably saved her from a booby-trapped section of the woods. You did not know that she was Death at the time, there had been many interactions between you both throughout the years. You thought she was alluring, irresistible, and you knew this section of the wood was trapped. She had stepped on a hidden pressure plate for the arrow bolt's release, but before one could hit her, she instantly knew it was you. Hell, yall had fucked so many times at this point that you could recognize each other instantly just by your bodies. “You saved me back there…you didn’t have to. You could’ve gotten yourself kille-” (Rio) “I’d always choose you over myself. You should be well aware of that by now, my dear.” (You).

It had caught her off guard how willing you were to always put her first over yourself. Dare she say that made you even sexier in her eyes and so much harder to deny feelings for you anymore. She almost lost you tonight in more ways than one, physically and she would have been forced to take your soul from the living world to the soul realm a place she could never enter. She finished making everything and kept the food warm with her magic going back into the living room carefully lifting your head and sliding in under you. She ran a hand through your hair while the other was holding your wrist keeping track of your heartbeat.

She knew you probably wouldn’t hear or remember this conversation but she needed to say it to you “You know, you don’t have to do this. You don’t always have to stand up for people. I worry that no one will stand up for you in return when the time comes, because they take you for granted. And I hate that.” “Let me help you, please. I can’t stand on the side, quietly staring at all the scars you carry.” She couldn’t stand by anymore in the shadows and let you do this alone, there were only so many years where she’d let you go but now if you ever fully recovered from this she would be at your side from now on.

[sxcretricciardo]

expect the unexpected - M.V

Kelly comes with some news that might shake your relationship with Max. Will you take it?

•

The soft hum of an approaching storm echoed in the distance as you sat by the large window of your apartment, watching raindrops begin to streak the glass. It had been two months since you and Max parted ways, and even longer since the warmth of his touch or the familiarity of his smile felt like home. You told yourself you were okay, even as the heaviness in your chest told a different story.

Max had gone back to Kelly almost immediately after your breakup. At first, you tried not to care. You buried yourself in work, in friends, in anything that could distract you from the thought of him. But deep down, you knew: a part of you still loved him, still craved the connection you shared.

And then, out of the blue, he came back.

It started with a text. Just a simple, “Can we talk?” You ignored it. Then another: “I made a mistake. I need to see you.”

It wasn’t until he showed up at your door one evening, drenched from the rain and visibly distressed, that you finally gave in. Max had looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his blue eyes darker than you remembered, haunted by regret. He poured out his heart, admitting that he’d tried to move on with Kelly but couldn’t stop thinking about you. He told you he loved you. That he was willing to do whatever it took to win you back.

Against your better judgment, you let him back into your life, piece by piece. Slowly, cautiously. It wasn’t easy—trust was hard to rebuild—but Max was persistent. And for the first time in a long time, you began to believe that maybe things could work out.

Until tonight.

Max had invited you over to his apartment for dinner, promising a quiet evening together. You had been looking forward to it, hoping it might be the start of something new. But when you arrived, Kelly was there.

You could tell by the look on her face that something was wrong. And then she said the words that shattered your world.

“I’m pregnant, Max. And it’s yours.”

The room fell silent. Max froze, his face a mixture of shock and disbelief. You, however, didn’t wait for an explanation. Without a word, you grabbed your coat and bolted for the door.

“Wait!” Max called after you, but you didn’t stop. The elevator seemed to take forever, and by the time you reached the street, the rain was pouring in sheets.

You didn’t care. You just needed to get away.

Max was frantic. He ran down the stairs, skipping steps, his heart pounding in his chest. By the time he reached the street, you were gone.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, pulling out his phone to call you. No answer. He tried again. Nothing.

He ran to his car, cursing the downpour as he started the engine and pulled out into the night. He had no idea where you might have gone, but he was determined to find you.

You walked aimlessly through the city, the rain soaking through your clothes. Tears streamed down your face, mixing with the water, but you barely noticed. All you could think about was the way Max looked at Kelly when she told him.

A part of you had always feared this. That he’d never truly be over her. That no matter how much he said he loved you, there would always be a part of him tied to her.

You found yourself in the park, collapsing onto a bench beneath a canopy of trees. The storm raged around you, but you didn’t care. You felt numb, broken.

It took Max nearly an hour to find you. He scoured the streets, his heart sinking with every passing moment. When he finally spotted you in the park, sitting alone in the rain, relief washed over him like a tidal wave.

He parked the car haphazardly and ran to you, his shoes splashing through puddles.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice breaking.

You didn’t look up.

Max dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands cupping your face. “Please,” he whispered. “Let me explain.”

You pulled away, shaking your head. “What’s there to explain, Max? She’s pregnant. That changes everything.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he said desperately. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you. Only you.”

You stood up, crossing your arms as tears streamed down your face. “How can you say that when she’s carrying your child? How can you expect me to just—”

“Because I made a choice,” he interrupted, standing up to face you. “I chose you, Y/N. Before tonight, before any of this, I chose you. And I’ll keep choosing you, no matter what. Kelly and I… we’ll figure out how to co-parent. But you’re the one I want to be with. You’re the one I love.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with emotion. You wanted to believe him, but the pain was still fresh.

“I’m scared, Max,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if I’m not enough?”

Max stepped closer, his hands gently gripping your arms. “You are more than enough. You’re everything. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if I have to.”

The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable. Slowly, cautiously, you let your guard down, leaning into his embrace. His arms wrapped around you tightly, as if he was afraid to let go.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “For everything. For hurting you, for making you doubt us. I’ll never let you feel like this again.”

For the first time that night, you allowed yourself to believe him. To believe that maybe, just maybe, love could conquer the storm.

As the rain continued to fall around you, Max pressed his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. It wasn’t a perfect ending, but it was a start. A new beginning.

And for now, that was enough.

[hiddenzev]

Second Confession: Final Part

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Something happened to reader, causing Joel to take care of her. A happily ever after.

Chapter Warnings - Fluff, Idiots in Love, (let me know if i missed anything)

WC: 13.3K

series masterlist, AO3

A/N: The hardest chapter for me to write yall that's why it took me longer to write. It could be better but I hope you guys love the closure. Thank you for taking the time to read this story!!

Breathing in the crisp and refreshing morning air, leaving fresh hoof prints in the snow that has piled up over the night, you’re out for the supply run with Joel this morning. It had started snowing a few days after that night at the bar like you guessed. With one horse each, both of you are riding along the trees in the woods in silence.

Ever since the outburst of emotions between you and him, he has been keeping true to the words of giving you as much time and space as you need before coming around to him again and he took it way too seriously. You never see him in the library after that or the town hall or anywhere else. As a matter of fact, it’s like he has disappeared from the face of this earth. He is avoiding you as much as possible.

You use that time to comprehend everything that happened during that exchange and properly consider the actions that you should take after that. The apology from him was unexpected and it caught you off guard. Time and time again, you would see the big brown puppy eyes that were gazing into yours, begging you for forgiveness, in your head throughout the whole day. The sincerity that you see from the desperation in his eyes, the trembling of his strained voice, moist lush lips from his constant nervous licking to the soft touch of his fingers on yours. You have never seen this side of him up close before and it shook your determination to not let him get to you again.

During those days that you didn’t see him, it felt kind of empty. It’s the first time he was out of your sight for more than a day and you get the feeling of ambivalence. On one side, you get to think more clearly without him affecting you in a physical way but on the other hand, you miss him a little bit. The constant consumption of his presence vanished and it bombarded you with the longing to see him even if it is just for a second.

He definitely needs to show more through his actions if he wants to be forgiven. You’re not going to let him off the hook easily just by him apologising like he did that night. Like he said, he should do whatever it takes to make it all up to you. At the same time, you want to be a better person and not treat him like shit at least. To give him the chance to prove himself that he do want your forgiveness.

The silence of the supply run is suffocating but you don’t mind it as you make up for the time that you were not able to see him by staring at him from the back as long as you can. As much as he frustrates you, you will never get bored of looking at him. As if he could sense that you were staring at him, he glances back to say that you both are nearing the first checkpoint to take a break. By this time during your usual patrols, the both of you would have already start to make your way back to Jackson. This is going to be way more taxing but you know you got to push through it.

Surrounded by some bushes and trees, you and Joel are sitting facing each other, resting. You packed enough food for at least 2 days, packing as light as possible for the travels and supplies. You’re munching on the last few bites of your sandwich when Joel hands a small cup of his coffee to you. You raise your eyebrows at him, not expecting him to share any of his beloved coffee with you. He points with his chin, telling you to drink it.

“Thank you.”

You hand him the cup back after finishing the coffee within a couple of gulps. You didn’t bring any coffee with you unlike Joel who is definitely a caffeine addict. Coffee is a scarce resource so to have him sharing it with you is definitely surprising when he doesn’t even want to share it with Tommy.

“I think we should pick up the pace if we want to reach there before it gets dark,” he says while looking out at the sky.

“Okay. Let’s move on now.”

You stand up and brush off the food crumbs and dirt on your pants. You move to your horse and make sure everything is alright before getting on it. Joel’s eyes follow your every movement and slowly make his way to his horse.

“Cmon Miller, we’ve got no time. Pick up the pace.” you jokingly nag at him as you watch him strap his stuffs back on the horse.

The goofiness in you just want to poke some fun at him since the whole trip from the start has been a boring nightmare. Raw dogging the whole ride on a horse with a quiet and stoic man like your partner is actually brutal to your sanity right now.

He looks back at you, annoyed. You want to let out a laugh so bad but you keep it in. Instead, a small smirk creeps out of your mouth as you look down at him. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your smile, you turn your head to the side to hide it. Joel glares at you but his eyes soften when he catches that smirk of yours that you are trying to hide from him. He almost smile but straighten himself out and gets on the horse.

Both of you make your way to the designated spot to search for supplies in a faster speed than before. Eventually, you and Joel arrive there a couple hours before the sun goes down. From a distance, you can see there is a couple of cabin houses. Joel slows down and you follow suit, sensing that you should be cautious and ready if anything is going to happen. You scan the surrounding areas with sharp eyes, not wanting to miss something weird going on.

Joel leads you to a nearby tree to the nearest house, tying the horses to it. With rifles already gripped, both of you look at each other to discuss the plan.

Joel steps closer to you, eyes unwavering, whispering the plan, “We’ll check the houses one by one first. You stay close behind me and check our six. You see something, you let me know,” you nod, staring into his eyes, “If there’s no one, we’ll discuss more after. Ready? Stay sharp.”

“Stay sharp.” You echo his words and with determined glint in yours and Joel’s eyes, both of you start walking slowly to the nearest house first.

Joel is moving forward while you are checking the six, moving backwards towards Joel. You scan slowly if there’s anything or anyone hiding behind the trees. There’s no boot prints or any animal prints in sight except yours and Joel’s as you move. Reaching the first house, Joel opens the door easily as it wasn’t locked. Everything seems intact in their respective places, dusts everywhere meaning there wasn’t anyone that came around recently. But still, both of you are careful in exploring the place.

Joel and you check out the other houses as well and as you thought, this whole area hasn’t been infiltrated by anybody else for quite some time. There is an empty shed right beside the first cabin which Joel uses to shelter the horses for the night. After ransacking the houses, the both of you move the supplies found to the same shed and pack the things properly for the ride back to Jackson tomorrow.

The sun is setting once both of you are done with it and Joel is getting ready to warm the place up using the fireplace in the house. There’s only one couch that is big enough for one person to lie down on. Other than that, there are only a couple of wooden chairs around. You push the couch nearer to the fireplace and sits down on one side of it, watching Joel lit the fireplace up.

After making sure the fire is burning okay on its own, Joel moves back to the other end of the couch. You can hear his knees cracking as he sits, sighing heavily as his head reach the back of the couch. He closes his eyes as he listens to the cracking of the fire. You turn to look at him resting, taking in everything that you can to memory. His chest moving up and down slowly as he breathes. Noticing his beard and hair thicker and longer than it was a couple weeks before.

“I can feel you staring at me.” he speaks, breaking the silence in the cabin.

You look away to gaze at the fire as if you were not just staring at him.

“I wasn’t,” you deny.

“Yeah right.” He opens his eyes slightly to look at you while you tried to maintain your lie by focusing on the fire.

It is getting awkward again so you take out the food that you stored in your bag to eat for your dinner. Distracting yourself with food, Joel does the same thing, taking out a small packet of salad to eat. You notice that he was only eating greens which makes you wonder how the hell is he getting the strength without any protein in his food. The meat lover in you wouldn’t survive with just greens but hey, beggars can’t be choosers, you get it.

“Just salad?” You subconsciously frown as you ask him.

He snaps his head to you, surprised that you are making conversation with him, “No. I was short on protein. Only had the jerky which I stupidly left in my kitchen.” He looks forlorn like a kid being sad about the candy that dropped on the floor.

You hand him one of your leftover sandwiches that you have. You don’t mind giving him one because you made a bunch of sandwiches which is more than enough for you alone. He shakes his head refusing to take it.

“It’s fine. It’s your portion for tomorrow.” He refuses while picking at his salad.

“Nah, I’m good. I have more than enough.” You reassure him, not taking a no for an answer.

He takes the sandwich with hesitation, thanking you and takes a small bite out of it. You finish yours while glancing at him from time to time, making sure he is finishing his meal. He tries to hand you his coffee after the dinner but you refuse it this time because you needed to sleep soon. Both of you are slumping against the couch, legs stretched out, falling into the comfort of the night. You are in a daze as you stay still, fire gazing, before he speaks again.

“I read your letter.” He murmurs in a soft voice.

You keep quiet thinking about the letter that you wrote. You can vaguely remember word for word but you definitely know the highlights of it. Your face burns from the embarrassment again.

“I didn’t know how deep your feelings were before reading it. I’m sorry again for being a dick.”

You look down on your hands, not knowing where to look and what to say.

“I love the horse piece by the way. It’s beautiful. You should try to carve more often.” His eyes focuses on you when you turn your head to him.

His eyes twinkles with the reflection of the fire in front of the both of you.

“I thought you must have thrown it away after seeing your reaction that night,” Looking away from him, reminiscing what happened.

“I didn’t,” he shakes his head, feeling disappointed in himself for reacting badly.

The silence grow stronger as he is wallowing in sorrow of that night.

“How about the, uh, guitar pick?” In a quiet voice you ask.

He huffs softly thinking about it, “It’s so corny.” A small curl at the end of his mouth appears as he talks about it, his eyes everywhere else but you. He doesn’t know why he’s feeling shy from talking about it or maybe it’s just you that is affecting him.

“Ellie saw it one time and kept pestering me about why I didn’t tell her that I found it.” He shakes his head, almost smiling, remembering how annoying Ellie was with the bad jokes.

“So you didn’t tell her how?” you’re full on looking at him now, intrigue with this openness from him.

“I didn’t,” he shakes his head and glance at you with an unreadable gaze, “want it to be my own little secret for a bit.”

You blink a couple times at him, flustered by his reply. Meanwhile, his eyes are gazing into yours without a blink. You clear your throat, adjusting your position a little trying to be nonchalant about it.

“Did you tell her about the gifts? Because she’s been on my ass about it recently.” He continues the conversation.

“Yeah. Knew she’s gonna kick your ass about it. Can’t say you didn’t deserve it though…” you shrug your shoulders, giving him an awkward look.

“I still do deserve it.” He sits up and lean forward to rest his elbows on his thighs.

“I want to let you know that I am sincere with everything that I said that night. I’m terrible with this…feelings stuff but,” he pauses to look at you, “I will do my best to regain your affection.” He says in a firm and soothing tone.

Hearing his determination to redeem himself outright to you, it makes you speechless. You just have to see through his actions as time goes by. He breaks the eye contact and stands up to pick up his rifle.

“I’ll take the first shift. Get some sleep.” He takes a couple seconds to look at you, making sure you’re okay before making his way out of the door to check if there’s anything dangerous outside.

You proceed to lie down on the sofa, resting your head on the arm rest as you face the ceiling. Too tired to think of the conversation with Joel a couple of minutes ago, you fall into a deep slumber almost straight away.

Your eyes blink open to a brighter surrounding. The sun is starting to rise and you can hear the chirps of the birds in a distance. In a daze, you look around wondering why Joel didn’t wake you up. You notice he is sitting on the floor, leaning his side against the front of the couch seat. His head is resting sideways on the seat, facing you and almost touching your hip. His face is calm without his usual frown and you can hear his soft snoring as you stay still. His body probably going to ache so bad after this.

Your hands are twitching, wanting to caress his head but you hold back that thought, clenching your fists. You can only take this time to take in his features as he sleeps, wishing things were simpler but you get up from the sofa silently after watching him for awhile before you make any stupid decisions.

He must be in a deep sleep because he does not even move even after the rustling that you made on the sofa. You grab your rifle and get out of the cabin to check on the horses and be on watch before it’s time for you to wake Joel up. The cold air that suddenly hit you as you step out, gave you the shivers so you adjust your jacket right away, zipping it all the way up to keep yourself warm. Gripping the rifle tight, you keep your guard up as you look around for potential threats.

You didn’t find anything amiss as you make your way to the shed so once you are nearby, you sling your rifle back on your shoulders to open the shed door. The horses greet you with a few nickers as soon as they notice you coming in.You smile while giving them a couple of firm pats on their shoulders, rubbing their sides and even nuzzle your face against the neck of your horse, finding some comfort in it. Then, you make sure once again that everything is settled and ready to go.

You sit down at the corner of the shed, somewhere near the door that you left slightly ajar. Still reeling in the relaxation of the morning, you observe the horses across the other side of the shed. Once you realise that you should get back to Joel, you hear a strange noise not too far away, With no time wasted, you move cautiously to the door, hands gripping the rifle as your heartbeat starts to rise.

There isn’t much that you could see as you take a peep through the space left open by the door. You squint your eyes to see a few figures through the soft fluttering snow so you bring the rifle up and point towards them. You place your cheek by the stock of the rifle and look through the scope to have a clearer view. This time, there are shivers running down your spine, not from the cold but from what you see.

Your eyes widen as you take in the clickers approaching the cabin house. You should have guessed it from their erratic movements. There are three of them that you can count in your sight. Your mind is running in full speed, thinking the possibilities that you can take from this point onwards. Joel is probably in the house, still deep in sleep and they are coming in hot.

Without much thought, you take a few controlled breaths before shooting at one of them. Headshot, it falls to the ground, dead. The other two changes their direction towards the shed and started to pick up the speed, sprinting. The horses behind you are grunting noisily, restless after hearing the gunshot but that didn’t distract you from hitting the targets that are coming. The remaining two clickers finally went down after taking a couple of shots to their bodies and heads.

“Fuckin’ hell” you whisper under your breath as you look back at the horses, checking if they are okay.

You continue to take a few deep breaths before opening the door and steps out of the shed carefully to go back to Joel. As soon as you do that, you hear snarling coming from your right and you turn to see another group of clickers, only a few metres away, heading towards you.

“Oh shit!” You exclaim before making a run in the opposite direction, towards the woods.

You turn back a few times to take a few shots at the clickers, successfully getting two of them. There are five more on your heels, still charging towards you.

“JOOOEEELLLL!” You shout for him as loud as you can, multiple times, as you try to keep the distance and kill the clickers.

Luring them towards you, you can only hope Joel wakes up to get them from behind.

“Cmon Joel,” you beg to no one but yourself, “wake up!” You scream helplessly.

As if Joel could telepathically read your mind, you spot him over the shoulders of the clickers, coming out of the house frantically. Then, you hear a few gunshots which brings you a slight relief that he is awake finally.

Now that he is up, you plan to get back to him but you have to make it past the remaining two clickers that are still alive. You need to reload the rifle but with their arms flailing, trying to claw at you, you are not able to do it. In a haste, you duck down to get the knife that you had strapped in your boot. Popping the blade out, you stab one in the head, twisting the knife before pulling it out in one swift motion. One more kill.

Joel is making his way to where you are at while shooting the ones that are coming for him. In a blink, the two clickers drop dead at his feet as his running speed starts to increase towards you, worried. He sees you stabbing one of them in the head before dodging the arm of the other one that tries to attack you.

You avoid all of the aggressive flailing of its arms and move around it to run towards Joel. You take a couple steps but you didn’t notice the large roots of the surrounding trees which are covered in snow, resulting in you tripping and falling head first onto a rock. This causes Joel to scream your name in a bellowing voice, his stomach drops, seeing the scene that is unfolding in front of his eyes.

You tried to move but the overwhelming pounding in your head from the fall makes you freeze. With your head down on the ground, you slowly bring your hands up to clutch your head in pain. You can faintly hear the clicking behind you as you are lying on your stomach. You close your eyes shut, with a pained hiss as you think that this is the last moment of your life before getting bit. However, as you lay there helplessly, you didn’t feel any biting but only the throbbing at the side of your head.

Suddenly, you feel a pair of strong hands grabbing your arms, which causes you to flinch. Joel flips you around slowly, resting your head on one of his thighs as you look up at him. He looks down at you with wide eyes that are examining your face quickly and mouth slightly ajar as he takes long, dragged breaths. He moves your hair away from your face and checks out the cut from the fall with the touch of a feather. You feel warm liquid trickling down your head as his finger accidentally grazes the pained area which makes you scrunch your face and whimpers.

“I know, I know. You’re going to be okay.” He says in a reassuring voice.

In your head, you want to say something sarcastic like, ‘Took you long enough’ but all that comes out from your mouth is just unintelligible mumbling because of the concussion which takes the articulation out of you.

“Can you move?” He asks with a raspy voice, eyes boring into yours.

You nod slightly with a weak voice, “Yeah.”

The both of you get up slowly with one of his hands holding your arm and the other, around your waist. You pause after standing up, taking a moment before moving to stabilise yourself. Your vision is kind of blurry but you push through the dizziness while still holding onto Joel. You can see your bright red blood in contrast to the shallow white snow on the ground. With him by your side, not letting go of your waist, you stagger back to the shed, passing by all the dead bodies of clickers.

You reach the shed without much complications with the help of Joel. He sits you down on the stool that you were sitting at not too long ago before the disaster that you were in. The headache is still prominent but you don’t want to be a burden and prolong the journey back to Jackson. Not only that, you start to feel some parts of your body aching from the fall as your adrenaline level starts to reduce. You are sure there are going to be some bruises and wounds on your body from the impact of the fall but you are more worried about your bleeding head.

Meanwhile, Joel rushes out of the shed to check the house again if there’s anything that has been left behind. He comes storming back to the shed glancing at you to see how you are keeping up. You are taking deep breaths to try and ease the pain but it doesn’t really help you. He goes straight to his bag to grab some stuffs out of it and comes kneeling in front of you, eyes levelling with yours. The whole time your face is scowling from the throbbing pain, it’s difficult for you to keep your eyes open.

He pours some water on a small towel to clean the blood that is smearing the side of your face, down to your chin. You open your eyes slightly, taking in the way his forehead creases, eyebrows knitted and eyes unblinking as he cleans your face gently. However, you don’t have the luxury of time to be lost in him when the ache keeps on increasing. He takes your hand and gives you a small cloth, telling you to keep pressing it on the open cut to slow down the bleeding. You hesitantly do so, sucking in a breath due to the stinging from the contact. He wraps your head with a long shredded piece of cloth to help it stay intact.

“Eyes on me.” You hear him say once he finishes with it.

You look straight at him, biting your lip.

“I’m going to get you on the horse, okay? We’re going back to Jackson right now as fast as we can.” He explains to you in a low, steady voice, grounding you.

“Okay.” You whisper in a strained voice.

He leans in closer to cup your face with his gloved hands that warms your cheek, “You’re going to be okay. I got you so just hold on for a bit longer.”

HIs eyes darting between the both of your eyes for a few seconds before getting up to get everything set and ready to go. Once everything is ready, he move the horses outside. You follow suit with staggering steps as you approach him. He gets a hold of you the moment he notices you walking up to him without his help. Somehow, he manage to get you up on the horse and he is seated closely right behind you. His arms surround you as he holds on to the reins while his thighs cage your legs. The warmth emitting from the closeness of his body engulfs you all of a sudden as he nudges the horse to move.

About 30 minutes of riding, you start to feel way more dizzy. The continuous motion of riding mixed with the blinding daylight is causing you to feel lightheaded and nauseous. You cannot help but to lean back on Joel’s chest, resting your head on one of his shoulders, as you grimace in all of the sickening symptoms you are facing. Your hands reach out to grab whatever parts of him that you can, his thighs and his arms, clenching it tightly. Nails that are covered by your gloves can still be felt digging into his clothes.

“I know, baby, I know.” You feel his warm breath at the top of your head, not even registering him calling you baby as you wince, eyes keeping shut.

“Cmon, stay with me.” He murmurs with a wobbly voice in anxiety, seeing you in excruciating pain.

Your hearing is already reduced and whatever Joel says sounds muffled to you. All you can hear is the rapid heartbeat of yours. Within seconds, you lose consciousness and your body goes limp. Joel uses his arms to keep you steady while still holding on to the reins. He calls out your name louder for a few more times but you did not respond, causing him to slow down to check your pulse. He removes his glove to touch your neck and he feels the coldness of your body against his hand. After making sure that you are still breathing, he picks up the speed, arms circling your waist as his front sticks to your back like glue to share his body warmth with yours.

Throughout the journey back, you are in and out of consciousness from the overwhelming pain and the blood loss. Joel had stop multiple times to give you a few drops of water so that you would not be dehydrated. It is all a blur to you and you just wish to be back in Jackson already.

“TOMMY!” Joel’s yelling makes everyone in the nearby vicinity turn their heads. He shouts for Tommy as soon as the gates open.

Tommy, Maria and a few others patrollers are waiting by the gates as they were starting to get worried, not seeing any glimpse of you and Joel a few hours ago and now, it’s already getting dark. When the gates open, they rush to Joel to help you off the horse. Eddie, your previous patrol partner before Joel, carries you to the infirmary with Maria beside him. Joel gets off the horse, letting the other people to take over the horses and supplies and hurries to follow where you are brought to.

“What happened?” Tommy asks while running back towards Eddie with Joel.

“We were attacked by some clickers back at the cabin house.” Joel answers with eyes fixed on your form being carried by Eddie.

“Did she get bit?”

“I don’t think so,” Joel blinks, eyebrows furrowed.

“You didn’t check?” Tommy asks with a louder voice than before.

Joel didn’t respond, his jaws clenched. He knows he should have checked whether you got bit but he wasn’t thinking clearly. Getting you somewhere safe was his only priority at that time.

“Joel-“

“I didn’t check.” He stops outside of the infirmary doors and turns to Tommy, glaring with fiery eyes.

“She was bleeding out from the head, Tommy, and I can only think of bringing her back here safely.” Joel argues, already stressed about you and now his brother is trying to lecture him about his mistake.

He goes in, pushing the doors aggressively, leaving Tommy to chase after him. He approaches your bed which are already crowded with the only doctor and a couple of nurses on duty in Jackson, checking your condition. He joins Maria and Eddie that are waiting a few steps away from the foot of the bed. Joel cannot keep his eyes away from you. His heart is still racing from the adrenaline rush. You are still unconscious and the blood is trickling down from your head as the doctor loosens the stained alternative bandage to check the open wound to mend it later on. The nurses continue to check the other parts of your body for other wounds or bite marks, just in case. To check, they have to undress you and that is when Maria guides the group of them watching, to wait outside at the waiting area.

Eddie has to go off to check on the horses and the supplies that were brought back, telling Maria to update him on your status. Maria and Tommy thank him for his help while Joel gives him a silent nod. His arms folded while he leans on one foot to the other, pacing back and forth from time to time, staring at the door to the ward room. He looks back on what happened back at the cabin house and he thinks the state that you are in right now is somehow his fault. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep and let you fight the clickers by yourself. He should have protected you from this situation. He runs his fingers through his hair, scratching his head as he feels guilty.

Tommy and Maria doesn’t say a word, seeing Joel already agitated from you being injured. The three of them wait in silence before the doctor comes out to let them know how you are holding up.

“Her heartbeat is stable now. I’ve already stitched the open wound on her head to stop the bleeding. She must have taken a hard impact of a fall seeing the bruises on the left side of her body, especially the shoulder and the arm. Luckily, there isn’t any broken bone or bite marks. For now, we’ll keep on looking after her and wait til she wakes up.” The doctor informs the three of them.

Joel rubs his face as he releases a sigh of relief knowing that you’re okay now. Maria and Tommy hold hands, comforting each other, relieved as well.

“Can I see her now?” Joel in a rush to get back to you after hearing everything from the doctor.

“Of course,” The doctor gives Joel a tight smile.

Joel goes back in to the room after murmuring his thanks to the doctor, not looking back.

“Thank you, Remy, as always.” Maria shakes Remy’s hands before walking hand in hand with Tommy to the ward room.

Joel pulls a chair close to your bed and sits on it, eyes fixed on you. The nurses has already changed you out of your clothes to a more comfortable patient gown. Your stitches is covered with a pad to keep it dry. He notices the red bruises on your shoulders that is peeking out of the gown and there are also a few scrapes on your arms like the doctor had said. He can feel his heart breaks a little, looking at your injuries. He raises his hand to swipe at your cheek gently, feeling your soft skin. He sees your eyes flutter slightly from the touch but still not opening awake.

Tommy clears his throat causing Joel to freeze from what he was doing. He glances back at Tommy and Maria who is observing him and clasps his hands together between his thighs. Shying away from the looks of them, Joel keeps his eyes on your face.

“We’re glad the both of you are okay.” Maria speaks to Joel.

Joel as usual, doesn’t speak but gives a slight nod to what Maria said.

“She’ll be fine Joel. Don’t stress yourself out more than necessary.” Tommy tries to comfort his brother who is clearly defeated from the hours of travelling and tending to your unconscious body.

Tommy and Maria stays there for a while more before leaving to let Joel be alone with you.

“Do you want me to bring you dinner?” Tommy asks him.

“I’m good,” Joel shakes his head, not having the appetite to eat.

“Alright. Do you want me to tell Ellie that you’re here?”

Joel looks up at Tommy, momentarily realises that he was not thinking about Ellie at all,  “Let her know that we're fine. I don’t want her to stay up waiting for me, I’ll see her in the morning.” Tommy places his hand on Joel’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze and heads out with Maria, leaving Joel alone, keeping his eyes on you.

The following morning, Joel is dozing off in his seat beside you, heads nodding awake time and time again. He clearly needs a proper sleep but he is fighting it off, wanting to be by your side when you wake up. With half-lidded eyes, he looks at you who is still in the same position as yesterday night. Throughout the night, he has pull his chair even closer to you. Holding your hand which seems to fit right with his, caressing your head when he hears your little whimpers, softly running his hands through your hair. He wants to keep doing that but it will be even better when you’re not lying sick in bed and is actually awake.

He stands up carefully to go home and freshen up before coming back to look after you. He also have to explain to Ellie about what had happened so she wouldn’t be worried. He gives you a last long look, eyes sunken deeply in sadness before turning around to leave while the nurses give morning greetings to him as he goes.

Not long after, your eyes slowly opens to an unfamiliar ceiling. You can feel a slight ache on your head, not remembering what happened when it suddenly hits you. The memory of the supply run, the clickers and the way you fell resulting in you being out of consciousness. Then, a face comes to your mind. Joel. Joel! Where is he? Where is this place?

You hear footsteps coming towards you. You try to get up from the bed but your body is too weak so you give up in doing so. A familiar face comes into view and you realises that she is one of the nurses in Jackson. She looks away from her board to see you looking at her with confusion on you face.

“Oh! You’re awake. Great to see you again.” She smiles at you, coming closer to check how you are doing.

She presses a stethoscope to your chest to listen to your heartbeat while you are still confused on how you are back in Jackson. She continues to check your eyes and your hearing before letting you know about your health state right now.

“Everything is good but you will still feel dizzy and nauseous, don’t worry, it’s normal after an injury like yours. Your muscles will still be weak and your body will ache for awhile. These symptoms can last for a couple days and up to a few weeks, depends on the how serious the injury is. You can be discharged tomorrow but we advise that you have someone to check up on you, in case anything happens.” She explains to you calmly.

You on the other hand, are at loss of words as you listen to her, still disoriented from just waking up a couple of minutes ago.

“I don’t have anyone to ask. I only have myself.” In a soft voice, you uttered defeatedly. You do not want to be another burden to someone else.

“I’m sure Joel Miller doesn’t mind it.” She mention casually, handing you a cup of water to drink. You pause for a moment, blinking at her blankly and takes the cup.

“Joel?” You stammers out his name, not expecting him to be mentioned.

“Yeah. He was here all night. It was so sweet to see the grumpiest man in Jackson caring for someone.” She gives you a pleased smile, “He left shortly before you were awake.”

You glance at the seat by your bed, knowing he was sitting right there for the night. Your heart skips a beat, imagining him looking at you for that whole time. You’re in your own thoughts when the nurse speaks again.

“Rest up for now. Just call for me if you need anything, alright?” She gives you a knowing smile as if she knows that you are thinking of the man that was just here.

“Thank you.” You give her a thin-lipped smile and thank her for the help.

She leaves you alone in the ward with conflicted feelings. It’s so overwhelming having these different feelings all at once. Before, anger was the forefront feeling that derives you away from Joel while still having a small amount of affection for him that you try to ignore. Then, he confused you with his actions and words, tugging your heart a little bit from seeing the change of his heart. Right now, he has saved you from going into the other side and you remember seeing the look of concern etched on his face when you were going through it. You know that he is definitely not faking it, feeling the sincerity from him in the last 24 hours.

Joel is walking back to the infirmary after washing up and having a short breakfast with Ellie. She was devastated to hear what went down during the supply run and told Joel that she is going to visit you after school. She did not say a word to Joel about how distracted he was during the breakfast. She knows it must be you that is affecting his mood and she cannot do anything about it except not taking more of his time and let him go back to the infirmary. To you.

In his hands, he carries a small bag containing a vegetable soup that he quickly cooked for breakfast with Ellie. He walks in and goes straight to the ward but stopping immediately in his tracks. From the open door, he sees that you are awake, smiling so brightly, not because of him but because of the guy that is sitting on the chair beside your bed. The chair that he was sitting on while rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

You are holding on to the flowers that Emile gave you. The both of you are laughing about something and his heart clenches hearing your laughter. The last he heard of your voice was when you are whimpering in pain and all that he wishes, then, was to hear your gentle and playful voice again. He lowers his head, the hopeful light in his eyes gone as he turns around feeling crushed. He approaches one of the nurses and passes them the breakfast that he brought for you, telling them to give it to you before leaving the infirmary.

While you are busy catching up with Emile, another nurse comes in to give you a bowl of soup. It smells delicious and you cannot wait to dig in as you are starving from the amount of energy that you lost for the past 24 hours.

“This smells delicious. Thank you.” You cheerily says in exclamation.

“Mr. Miller wants you to have this for breakfast.” The young lady informs you with an innocent look in her eyes.

In shock, your head snaps towards her with wide eyes, “Which Miller?”

“Joel Miller,” she looks at you questioningly.

“He just dropped this off?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You peer at the open door, seeing no sight of him while you keep staring. You wonder why did he not just come in and give you the soup himself. Is he busy with another duty? Did he see Emile and was not happy? Why would he go out of his way to give you breakfast?

“Anything else that I can do for you?” The nurse asks looking at you, confused with your reaction.

“No. It’s fine. Thank you.” You give a forced smile at her and your eyes drifting to the doorway as she leaves. You cannot help but to look at the doorway, wanting to see Joel but you are still too shy to admit it to yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Emile’s voice snaps you out of your trance from the doorway.

“Nothing.” You mumble and start to eat the soup made by Joel.

Emile squints his eyes, sensing that you are hiding something but he lets it go, seeing you gobbling the soup down in hunger.

The next morning, you are accompanied by Emile on your day of discharge. You told him that you can go back home today and he offered to walk you home. You are struggling because of the body ache that you are having and also the sudden waves of dizziness if you move too fast. It took you a couple of minutes to be walking without holding on to him anymore. Your stubborn ass is resilient to not hold onto him as you continue walking slowly at your own pace. The three minute walk to your house from the infirmary at your usual speed is now delayed to almost 10 minutes including the intervals of you pausing to let the dizziness or pain pass before moving again.

Joel is sitting by his bedroom window that is facing your house. He knows that you are being discharged today from what Ellie had told him after her visit. If Emile hadn’t offered, he would have gone to help you, given his free time after the supply run. He sees you struggling to walk with Emile by your side with a worried look on his face. For a moment, anger fills Joel’s entire body when he sees Emile not helping you at all but he eventually calms down after noticing how you are holding your hand out when Emile comes closer. He scoffs, a small curl on side of his lips as he shakes his head. What is he going to do with that stubborn head of yours? If he could, he would have already picked you up and carried you in the house.

Emile leaves after making sure you are back in your house safely and you reassuring him that you will be fine, not needing anymore of his help. You haven’t got the chance to eat something yet so you move the kitchen to make a small sandwich for breakfast, already tired from moving too much. You slump down on the sofa after eating, immersing yourself in the comfort of your home without any disturbances. You lay there, eyes slowly blinking heavily, letting your body relax and eventually you are deep in sleep.

A few hours later, you hear knocking on your door, partially awaken from the sound but you are still not moving.

Knock, Knock, Knock

It is louder this time. Grumbling as you get up from the couch, body still weak. You shout as loud as you can saying that you are coming to get the door. You take your time to reach the door and opening it to no one on the other side except a small bag on the floor. You look around and you spot the broad back of Joel slipping into his house, closing the door without looking back. You pick the bag up to find out the contents of it and the mix of nutty and savoury smell of warm avocado toast that hits you almost makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head.

You bring it inside to the dining table and devours it, smiling to yourself. Smiling because of how good the toast was or maybe because of the person behind the toast. You want to thank him for saving and taking care of you when you were out of it. The ice in your heart is slowly melting away, recalling the moments of his newfound vulnerability that he allows you to see. The way he talks to you calmly instead of the usual hostility in his tone when he speaks to you previously. You remember the cold piercing eyes that was replaced with round melancholic eyes that captivates when he looks at you. In your heart, you know that he might just hit the nail right on the head soon and earn that forgiveness from you.

It went on like that for the next couple of days. You will open the door to a bag of packed food whether it would be breakfast or lunch or dinner. It is obviously from Joel, 100%, no doubt. He for sure makes a run home once he hears you coming, taking advantage of your slowed down speed. Every time you open the door, you either sees him already going into his house or already halfway back, walking nonchalantly as he takes a couple of glances back at you.

He comes knocking when there is no one visiting you at that time, knowing when you have not eaten your meal yet. You’ve been trying to catch him, reading his pattern and always sneaking looks out of your window to see if he is coming. You’re in luck this afternoon when you caught sight of him taking big strides towards your house, feeling confident that he is going to get away with it as usual. He does not know that the pain in your head had subsided marginally and your body is stronger now from all the time that you took to rest. Quicker than he is, you are standing behind the front door, waiting for him. Quietly giggling to yourself, expecting to see his shocked face. Unbeknownst to him, this has been a game to you while spending time alone in the house.

You hear the scrapes of his heavy boots and the creaking of the floorboards as he goes up the stairs. Your heart is racing so fast that you can hear its pounding in your ears. He is right on the other side of the door. You don’t even know what you’re going to say to him. He stops, pausing for a beat, then raises his hand to knock on the door. As soon as you hear a knock, you turn the handle, opening the door wide.

Joel’s brows shoot as high as possible, eyes widening as he stays still from the unexpected situation. His arm is still in midair, his mouth parted, not knowing what to say. On his other hand, he is holding the bag of meal that he had cooked for you. You look up at him with a playful glint in your eyes, appearing to be innocent but your mouth is twitching, trying not to laugh seeing him flustered.

“Hi.” You greet him, voice croaked from resisting the laughter that is bubbling in your throat.

He is still speechless, eyes blinking rapidly trying to think of an excuse for his appearance. You wait for his answer but clears your throat instead when he doesn’t respond.

“What do you got for me today?” You point at the bag of meal that he is holding awkwardly.

“Uh, nothing special. Here.” He passes the bag over to you and you take it, fingers brushing his in that split second.

“Thank you, Joel.” You thank him with a small smile, locking eyes with him for a few seconds before looking down at your feet. He grunts a reply, scratching the back of his neck as he fidgets, eyes darting everywhere else except you.

“I think I should go now. Enjoy your meal.” He breaks the awkward silence, not making eye contact as he turns around to head back home.

“Joel.” You quickly call out after him which makes him stop and look back at you.

“Do you want to come in?” You suggested without giving it a thought, not wanting him to leave.

“Sure.” He replies after contemplating for a moment.

You invite him in, heart still racing as you head to the dining table to place the food down. He follows after you slowly, taking in the insides of your house. This is the first time he is in your house and he is observing every single detail of it, knowing this is your comfort place. This is a part of you that he gets to see for the first time so he is going to cherish this opportunity that is given to him.

You’re in the kitchen, washing your hands, grabbing the plate and utensils to place them down at the dining table. You turn towards Joel who is still checking out your place, standing by your living room couch.

“Have you eaten already?”

“Yeah.” He mutters, eyes locked onto the shelves at the front wall of your living room where there is a remaining carved piece of wood that you didn’t put away.

“Can I get for you coffee?” you offer.

He turns around and steps closer to the dining table while keeping his eyes on you.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” He nods before taking a seat opposite of yours.

Joel’s eyes drifting together with your movements as you make the coffee for him. He is pleased to be in your presence even though it is nerve wrecking for him but finally talking to you again makes his heart blooms with happiness. He schools his features back to a composed face when you approach the table with drinks.

“Thank you again for the food.” You thank him again before taking a bite of the steak and mashed potatoes that he prepared for you today. He gives you his signature nod as a reply.

Your eyes widen as you take the first bite of the meat and gawks at Joel, “It’s delicious!”

“Glad you like it.” He shrugs his shoulders, tipping his head forward slightly, feeling smug from your praise.

“What the fuck. It’s really good.” You cannot believe it and keeps on eating.

Joel brings the mug to his face, sipping on his coffee to cover the smile that is breaking into his face after seeing your raw reaction to his cooking. The way you react reminds him of Ellie and he finds it so adorable. He scans the side of your head that is covered with a new gauze for the stitch and notices the red bruises on your arms that is fading to brown as it heals. He hated seeing you in that kind of pain and it was gut wrenching to witness that, not able to soothe the pain away for you. He is relieved to see you smile again and this time because of him.You finish the meal while he sits there watching you eat with warm and focused eyes as you steal glances at him.

He insisted that you have a seat at the sofa as he washes the dishes for you. You did argued with him to let you do it yourself but you cannot defeat the man that is way more hardheaded than you. Staring at the back of the man that broke your heart two months ago who is now washing your dishes in your kitchen, you would have never seen this coming. You selfishly want to see more of him, shamelessly admitting it to yourself.

"Uh, I should go now." Joel rubbing his hands on his jeans, wiping the leftover wetness as he comes out of the kitchen area, towards you.

"Already?" your brows furrowed unknowingly, standing up slowly to see him out.

Joel cocks his head to the side, hearing the disappointment in your voice. He moves closer to you, heart beating rapidly, knowing that you want to spend more time with him.

"I'm on patrol duty with your temporary replacement soon." He explains.

"Oh. Hopefully you don't scare him away while I'm gone." You tease him.

He huffs before replying you with a smirk, "We'll see bout that.”

Just before he steps out of the house, you grab his wrist instinctively, turning him around to face you again.

“I really want to thank you for everything that you did for me. I appreciate it and it means a lot to me that you had my back. I’m sorry if I was a troublesome-“

“You weren’t,” Joel interrupts, twisting his wrist to hold your hand instead, “you never were.” He whispers, still shy to convey his true feelings.

His eyes are expressive with so many unspoken words as he gazes into yours, instinctively rubbing circles on the back of your hands like he did in the infirmary, waiting for you to be awake. But you don’t know that. Don’t know about the delicate touches that he leaves on your skin that night.

“Also, don’t leave the food by itself in front of my door. Next time, say hi to me at least.” You complain.

“Yes ma’am.” He give you a once over before letting go of your hand, “take care.” He heads out to make his way to the stables, looking back at you again who gives him a small timid wave. You notice his smile twisted with a smile before he snaps his head away, hiding his blushing face away from you. He walks away with lighter steps as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Surrounded by the books, you are sitting at one of the tables in the library with Emile. There is no sign of other people this morning causing the library to be filled with serene silence. The sunlight from the window, pierce through the gaps of the bookshelves, softly hitting the tables. Emile is rambling about his new read excitedly and you are listening to him intently, interested in where the story is going. It goes on from sharing stories with each other to talking about usual random stuffs until Emile brings up Joel in the conversation.

“How’s it going with Joel?” He asks in a cheery voice.

“What do you mean?” You release a laugh awkwardly.

“You seem livelier for the past few days and I thought Joel could be the reason for that.” His eyes are bright as he keeps the eye contact with you.

“What makes you say that?”

“I overheard that Joel has been cooking for you and that you guys even eat together for the past few days at your house.”

You smack your lips, nodding your head as you look away. You don’t talk to Emile about Joel so it’s kinda embarrassing to admit it to him. Since it’s out in the open, you use this time to tell the truth.

“You are a good friend, Emile. It’s comfortable to have conversations with you. I get to talk to you about anything and you are one of my emotional support in Jackson. I’m happy that we became friends.” You express to him with a sense of guilt, assuming it might hurt him that you put him in the friend zone. Your eyes lowering to your fidgeting hands on the table.

“Is this the part where you say that you don’t have feelings for me?” He questions with a clear voice.

You blink blankly at him, taken aback by his direct question. Your mouth parts slowly, wanting to speak but he continues to talk, sensing your faint hesitation.

“It’s okay. I know you are just being friendly with me without any other intentions, whether it’s good or bad. I see how you react when he’s around you and it’s pretty obvious, making me think that I’m stupid for not noticing it at first.”

“You’re not stupid,” you deny his negative thought.

“But I do enjoy your company and I’m really glad that we became friends as well.” His face beaming with a smile that infects you to mirror his.

You hold out a hand for him to shake on. He takes it and gives a firm handshake.

“We’re officially besties now” You states with a bright smile.

“Isn’t Ellie your bestie?”

“Okay, you’re officially my second bestie now.” You correct yourself.

“Whatever, tell me about you and Joel.” Emile still curious about the two of you, wiggling his eyebrows as he sent a playful smirk towards you.

“Oh shut up.” You pushes his hand away, rolling your eyes, faking the irritation. You know that if you talk about Joel now, you cannot control your expressions. He barks out a laugh seeing your reaction which makes you laugh as well.

Still giggling as Emile teases you, the both of you hear the door open and standing there is the man of the hour himself, Joel Miller. Stunned, you just freeze in your seat, gawking at him. You notice the cloud of breath coming out of his mouth as he exhales. His eyes studying your face and drifts towards Emile who is sitting opposite of you. His eyelids flutters slightly before lowering his gaze towards the floor.

“Sorry for interrupting.” He mutters, rubbing his gloved hands together before turning around to leave the library.

You stand up, eyes still trained on the door that was just shut.

“Go.” Emile looks up at you.

“I’ll see you again.” You take off without looking back.

Joel is dragging his feet back to his house, jaws clenching as the image of you and Emile having a good time laughing is stuck on his mind. In the span of few days of him checking up on you and having meals together, he forgets about Emile who has always been treating you nicely. How can he compete with a man who hasn’t been mean to you and break your heart?

“Joel! Wait up!” Your yelling halts him in his tracks. He looks over his shoulder and see you trying to keep up with him. He is still worried about you moving that fast, anxious that it will trigger dizziness in you again. He waits for you patiently, facing you with his head hanging low as he looks at his boots in the snow.

Another pair of boots comes into his view, opposite of him. He looks up to your face, seeing you panting, trying to catch your breath. How can you still look this cute standing in front of him while you gasp for air? He just wants to hold your face with his hands, warming your face that is growing cold.

“Where are you going?” You ask him.

“Home.” He gives a short reply, glancing towards the street.

“It’s cold. You should get back inside. I didn’t mean to disturb your time together.” His eyes darting over your shoulders at the library.

“You didn’t disturb anything. Were you looking for me?” You dismisses what he just said.

“I brought breakfast for us to eat together but you weren’t there.” He tries to be casual about it but you caught the sad look in his eyes.

“Let’s go then.” You walk ahead, leaving him to follow after you.

Joel picking at his leftover food aimlessly is bothering you. He is more quiet this morning, keeping his eyes on his plate most of the time. You call him out on his behaviour, not standing it anymore.

“What’s with the long face?”

“Nothing,”

“Don’t lie to me.” You firmly said.

He pauses for a moment before answering you, “You still seeing the librarian?” Still not making eye contact.

“I told you that he’s just my friend, Joel.” You reiterate that point again.

He nods his head solemnly, his lips still in a thin line. He leans back, not having the appetite to finish the rest of his food. You don’t believe that he agrees with that statement.

“You jealous?” You can’t help but grin, raising an eyebrow towards him.

“Get that smile off your face.” He rolls his eyes at you. You still don’t get why he is shy to admit it when he literally said that it hurts him to see you and Emile together, back at The Tipsy Bison.

“I sense jealousy.” You said in a singsong voice as you pick up the your plates and his, going to the kitchen sink.

Joel immediately follows and stands beside you as you wash the plates.

“You’re so infuriating, d’you know that. I told you that I will do the dishes.” He grumbles, annoyed that you didn’t listen to him.

“Well, too bad. I took them first.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Give me that. I’ll dry it.” He takes the washed plate from you, wiping it a dry cloth.

The both of you stand there, shoulders and arms touching as you focus on the task at hand. He lightly shoves you with his arm suddenly which makes you look up at him, frowning. He fake innocence as he wipes the utensils. You pushes him back, stronger than he did but he doesn’t budge. Not satisfied, you keep trying to shove him to the side but you fail miserably. You huff, feeling unfair by the significant difference of strength. Giving up, you continue to clean the cups but didn’t expect him to continue his disturbance by nudging you with his hip.

You cup your hands with water and splashes his face with it. His eyes are closely shut, his fringe sticks to his forehead, soaked with water and it’s running down his face. Droplets of water forms at his chin which drips onto the front of his shirt. Your nose flaring as you try to suppress your laughter but you couldn’t resist it anymore when he opens his eyes to look at you. You back away from him slowly before running away, laughing at him.

“Come here.” He chases after you right away and you didn’t get too far before you feel his arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You squeal as he lifts you slightly before letting you down and turn you around to face him, his hands clasps on your lower back.

He shakes his head vigorously, like a dog trying to dry itself, water droplets splattering on your face from it. You cover your face while still giggling at him. After he stops, you lower down your hand to his chest. A big grin is plastered on his face as he looks down at you, bewitching you with his dreamy and enchanting expression. You are entranced by him, spotting the dimples that you rarely see.

“Don’t mess with me.” He tries to warn you with a smile tugging on side of his face.

“Oooh, that is so threatening. I’m so scared.” You sarcastically joke which earns you a scoff from him.

You stay in his arms like that for a few more seconds. The both of you are not saying anything as you stare into each other���s eyes. He licks his lips and for a moment, you think that he might lean closer to you but disappointingly, he lets you go.

He clears his throat, “I better get going. Patrol duty again.” Avoiding eye contact.

“How is he by the way?” Curious about your temporary replacement.

“Not bad.” He shrugs.

“Wow. That is a compliment in your books.” You are surprised by his comment.

“Yeah. Better than the girl that keeps annoying me.”

“Get out.” You jokingly says, passing him his jacket that is on the couch and with your hands on his back, you keep pushing him towards the door as he tries to fight back while softly laughing at your antics.

He puts on his jacket and faces you again. Bending lower to meet you on your eye level, he tucks a stray hair on your ear and the graze of his fingers are burning your ears. You blink excessively, your heart stopping for a beat when his eyes meet yours.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.” He whispers to you, eyes twinkling as if they are the stars. You can’t stop the rapid beating of your heart even after he gets out of your house, leaving you dumbfounded and heated.

The Tipsy Bison is rowdy tonight with the residents of Jackson celebrating the bartender’s birthday. Kyle is the most loved by the people because of his endless kindness to everyone around him. You are seated in a booth with your usual crowd, Tommy, Maria and Joel. Unfortunately, Emile is unable to join as he finishes up his work in the library. Joel’s warm, strong thigh is pressing into yours even though there is more than enough space for the both on you on one side of the booth.

Joel has changed slightly, opening more of himself up to you. You get to see him bantering with Tommy over petty things like little boys which is what they are doing now. Arguing about who will beat whom in a arm wrestling match. You and Maria has seen this behaviour too many times that the both of you just shake your heads, sighing.

Recently, Joel has been brave to steal a couple of touches, not even hiding it anymore. He would tuck your stray hair or pat your head when he compliments you on something that you have done a good job at or placing his hand on your lower back to guide you somewhere and he takes every opportunity that he can to touch you. Like what he is doing now with his thigh, just to feel you there beside him.

A group of drunk, rowdy men walks past the booth before one of them stops to look at you. You sense his gaze and your head turns to look at him. It is the asshole from the other night, Jack. His eyes are heavy as he steps closer to the booth, clearly drunk.

“Oh look who it is!” He exclaims when he recognises you.

You don’t say a word, glaring at him as he drunkenly spews out insults at you again. The Miller brothers stop their argument and snaps their head towards Jack’s voice.

“Aren’t you Emile’s little mommy?” He says in a mocking tone, making you squeeze for fists. Joel scans your scowling face first before he notices your balled up fists on your thighs. His hand hovers your fist before cupping it gently, signalling you that he got your back.

“You threw him to the side after you get your fun and now you’re sucking off Joel Miller. What a slut.” He slurs on without shame.

Luckily for him, you are sitting on the inside so you cannot lunge at him to rip his face off and beat him to death like you wanted. Instead, Joel brings his fist to Jack’s face, rocking his jaw in an instant. Jack stumbles backwards, crashing on the nearby tables and chairs before falling to the ground, making people turn their heads to the commotion. Everybody stills, watching the event that is unfolding in front of their eyes. Joel cages him with his thighs, throwing punches at his face. Tommy gets up from his seat, holding Joel back before it gets worse. Joel stands and presses one foot on Jack’s chest, heaving from the punches that he threw.

“Last time, I told you to fuck off before I break your jaw. It seems like you really need it to break to get it into your fuckin’ head.” He growls at Jack that is looking up at him with eyes that are clouded with terror.

“You talk about my girl like that again, I will not hesitate to end you.” He warns with eyes that could kill Jack right there on the spot. “Now fuck off!” He spits at Jack after removing his foot away. Jack scrambles away with his friends, holding them for support.

Joel stands there, reeling in what he had just done. The crowd slowly gets going again, knowing that Jack had that coming for messing around with Joel. Joel is still pissed off at Jack and if no one had stopped him, he would have already killed that son of a bitch. His hand flinches when he feels a hand touching his. It is you that notices his trembling hand. You bring it up to your face, seeing the blood on his knuckles. You frown, not liking the fact that he got hurt from trying to protect you. You go back to the booth to let Maria and Tommy know that you’re bringing Joel back home to treat the cuts on his hand.

You drag him out of the bar with his other hand, heading back to your house. He follows you obediently, walking hand in hand, even though he is still fuelled with anger. Stomping his feet, he keeps on grumbling insults about Jack and wanting to beat the shit out of him. You glance at him, seeing his fiery eyes and downturned lips as he continues to curse the asshole. A smile appears on your face as you listen to his complaints. You are still replaying the words in your head again and again. He called you his girl. It brings butterflies in your stomach just by thinking about it.

You sat him down on your couch while you get the first aid kit. You pushes the coffee table close to the couch to sit on the edge of it, facing him with your legs in between his. You place his hand on your thighs as you wipe the blood off his hand. After putting the ointment, you bandage his hand with a gauze pad available. The entire time you were focused on treating his wounds, he was studying your face, processing every single detail to memory.

"All done," you let go of his hand.

"Thank you."

"You didn't have to do that, y'know"

"I want to." He says with conviction. "I don't like him talking about you like that."

"But I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm not. This was nothing." he tries to minimise the level of his injury.

You narrow your eyes and he shrugs at you trying to say that it is true. You shake your head disapprovingly, tired of his stubbornness. In the quietness of the night, wanting him to calm down, an idea comes to your mind.

"Come, I got something I want to show you." you crosses over his thigh, wanting to go up the stairs.

He quickly grabs your hand, wanting you to guide him upstairs as you hold on to him. You blushes when he does that, still making your heart flutters. Swallowing his spit, nervous that you brought him to your room, he stands at your door just watching you opening your window. You climb out the window to sit at your tiled roof, looking back at him, urging him to join you.

He marches across your room to the window, poking his head out, "It's freezing."

"I know. Just come out for awhile. You won't die," you reassures him. "Or are you just a coward?"

That strikes a nerve in him as he clicks his tongue at you and asks you to move over to give him some space. He folds his body, bones cracking as he struggles to go through the window.

"Damn, you're old." Holding on to him as he goes through the window, teasing him about his bone cracking.

"Ha. Ha. Funny." He replies in a monotonous voice.

The both of you sat next to each other, looking into the darkness of the vast sky. Because it is not snowing heavily, the moon that is not blocked by the clouds, brighten the snow-covered landscapes with a soft glow. The faint twinkle of the stars, reflecting in Joel's glassy eyes as you blatantly stare at him.

"I would sit here especially during the summer nights to stargaze. The enlightenment you get when you let your body immerse within the beauty of the nature is like no other." you explain.

"They're gorgeous." Peering into your eyes as it seems like he's not talking about the stars but you instead.

You are lost in his shining eyes and so is he, in yours. All of a sudden, he blinks the unwavering eyes of his away, remembering something. He takes out something from the inside of his jacket that is small enough to fit in his hands. Opening his palm towards you, you find a horse chess piece sitting on it. You look up at him with questions in your eyes while he portrays a shy smile on his face, suggesting you to take it.

“Stop! This is the prettiest one I’ve ever seen. You made this?” Still surveying the piece in awe.

“Yeah. Look at the bottom.”

You flip it around and notices a small writing on it. You stop breathing for a moment, reminded of the guitar pick that you gave him two months ago. You keep staring at the words directing at you.

“I was contemplating between this and ‘Let me be your knight in shining armour’, y’know. Because of the horse. But it was too long for me to-“ He stammers while trying to elaborate but stops when you lay your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Joel. I love it.” You hold the chess piece in your hand, tightly. His heart jumps with elation, overjoyed by your words.

He whispers your name, enrapturing you to shift your eyes at him, still resting your head on his shoulder.

“I would undo every single thing that I’ve done or said that hurt your feelings, in a heartbeat if I could. I didn’t see you for who you are and it kills me that I wasted so much time being a prick when we could spend more time together instead. You never fail to fill my heart with kindness and love and I want to do the same for you. Will you let me do that for you?” He confesses to you.

“Who said you haven’t done that yet?” You batted your eyelashes at him.

His heart stops for a beat, staring down at your face that is only a few inches away. Your glossy eyes mirror his look of adoration and he can’t help but moves your hair out of your face, caressing your cheeks softly.

“Joel Miller, the grumpiest man to ever lived, is sitting on the roof with me, stargazing. Who would have thought?”

“Only because it’s with you.” His thumb rubbing, warming your cold cheeks as you lean more into his touch.

His face tilts down to yours, eyes roaming over your features and stops at your lips. You hold your breath as he moves closer, heart pounding with anticipation. You have been waiting for this moment, imagining many different ways of exploring his lips. Your body shivering as he pauses when his lips are almost touching yours.

“Can I kiss you?” He mutters, almost inaudible as he shifts his eyes back to yours for confirmation, his tongue poking out slightly to wet his lips at the same time.

“Now you want to be polite? Just kiss me already.” You pull him closer by the neck, gently pressing his lips to yours. His lips are electrifying to touch despite the softness of it. He continues to move and you follow, effortlessly flowing together like water. His arms that are pressing against your side, slides up your back, holding you close to him. You feel him smiling against your mouth as the kiss gets heated. You pull back from him to catch your breath, foreheads still pressed against each other while you keep your eyes closed, heart still racing from the kiss. He is panting for air as well, eyes fixed on your parted lips.

“I’ve been waiting for a year for this,”

“I know, baby.” He cups your face, looking at you with dazed eyes before suggesting that the both of you get inside before it gets colder. You step down into the room first and he follows right after. He pulls you back towards him by your belt loop, wrapping his arms around your waist as he cannot resist the look of need in your eyes.

“I’m not done with you, my love.”

He leans in to kiss you again, this time more desperately. You throw your hands over his shoulders, arching your back to press your front against his. As it gets passionate, you are stumbling backwards as he pushes you towards your bed, lying you down on it. He hovers over you, leaning his weight on his palms that rest on either side of your head.

“I’ll repay the one year worth of kisses tonight so that you can forgive my dumbass.” Sliding down the side of your face, leaving kisses on your neck. You let out a moan, blessing his ears with the sounds that you are making involuntarily. You try to say something but your head is clouded with lust as he lightly runs his tongue along your jawline, raking one of your hands through his curls and another, scratching across his firm back. His soft grunts in your ear makes your spine tingle, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as he slides his hands under your shirt, digging his fingers in your waist.

“You’re forgiven, baby.” You blurt out while you are distracted by his pressing body on yours. He stops, raising his head towards you, not believing what he just heard.

“What did you just say?”

“Huh?” Your eyes heavy lidded as you look at him.

“Let me hear it again.” He smiles adorably.

“You’re forgiven?” Your brows knitted in confusion.

“No. The other one.”

“Baby?”

His face breaks into a grin and he softly giggles into your chest, loving the fact that you called him ‘baby’. Fuck the forgiveness, he just wants you to claim him as yours forever. He peppers you with kisses all over your face, making you scrunch, still smiling at him.The night deepens as the both of you continue exploring each other’s bodies, steaming the room up with grunts and moans throughout the night. The chess piece that fell to the ground while the both of you kiss, lies sidewards, the writing prominent at the bottom of it.

‘I pick you 2’

previous part

Thank you for reading! I have another Joel Miller fic that is coming soon over here. It's a sports romance x childhood friends to enemies to lovers. Do keep a lookout if you're interested. All love <3 - Z

Taglist: @greenwitchfromthewoods @rebeccawinters @cuteanimalmama @rodriguez31 @orcasoul @ashleyfilm @macaroni676 @whirlwindrider29 @vickie5446 @uncassettodiricordi @astralqueenoc

[benispunk]

Who's that girl?

Chapter 1: Who’s That Girl?

Wade and Logan are looking for a new roommate. Enters Y/N. How bad could it be?

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, does Deadpool & Wolverine count as a warning?, mentions of dark backgrounds sometimes.

A/N: hello everyone! this is it (I'm so nervous right now), the New Girl AU of my dreams, I hope I'm not going to disappoint you with that series. I'll try to post one chapter every week (and maybe two if I'm efficient). English is not my first language, I have read this chapter way too many times to acknowledge any new mistakes (sorry in advance), alright it's yours now. see you soon!!

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist / Next Part

Knock knock knock

The sound of her knuckles against the wood echoed louder than she expected, sending a jolt of anxiety through her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she took a step back, suddenly hyperaware of every breath she took.

Y/N shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to calm the nervous energy bubbling inside her. The seconds stretched on, each one feeling longer than the last, as she imagined all the possible ways this could go wrong.

What if they didn’t like her? What if she said something stupid? What if-

The click of the door handle snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. 

Her stomach did a flip as the door swung open with surprising speed, revealing a man with a wide grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wore a bright red t-shirt with some sort of sarcastic slogan on it.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t our potential new roommate!” Wade said, his tone playful as he leaned against the doorframe. “You must be the brave soul willing to share a living space with me and the grumpy lumberjack inside.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but Wade was already continuing, as if he hadn’t noticed -or didn’t care- that she hadn’t spoken yet. “Quick question before you come in: Ryan Reynolds or Hugh Jackman? Your answer could determine your fate in this apartment.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the randomness of the question. “Uh… Hugh Jackman?”

Wade clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch, right in the ego! But I’ll forgive you, because you seem nice.” He stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. “Come on in before Logan gets any more annoyed. He’s been brooding extra hard today.”

As she stepped inside, she couldn’t help but notice that the apartment, while a bit cluttered, had a warm, lived-in feel to it. Her nerves eased a little, but her mind was quick to remind her that this was an interview and that she wasn’t living there yet.

“Logan!” Wade called out as he shut the door behind her. “Our guest has arrived, and she’s team Jackman, so you’re safe for now!”

From somewhere deeper in the apartment, she heard a low, gruff voice grumble in response. Y/N wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but she figured she’d find out soon enough.

Y/N barely had time to take in the surroundings before heavy footsteps signaled Logan’s approach. He emerged from a hallway leading to what she assumed were the bedrooms, his expression as stern as she’d expected. There was something about the man that made it clear he wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

He gave her a quick, assessing look, then turned his attention to Wade. “You gonna offer her a seat, or just keep standin’ around like an idiot?”

Wade rolled his eyes but grinned. “Relax, peanut. I was getting to it.” He turned to Y/N and gestured toward the couch. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee? A shot of whiskey to calm the nerves?”

“Uh, water’s fine,” she replied, taking a seat on the couch. She couldn’t help but notice how the room seemed to reflect the personalities of its inhabitants—one side neat and organized, the other side a chaotic mix of random objects, comic books, and a few unidentifiable gadgets.

Wade disappeared into the kitchen, and Logan took the opportunity to sit in a chair across from her. His intense gaze made her sit up a little straighter. “So, why do you wanna live here?” he asked, cutting straight to the point.

Before she could answer, Wade returned with a glass of water and plopped down next to her on the couch, interrupting her thoughts. “Yeah, what Logan said. Also, how much weirdness can you handle? Just asking for a friend,” he said, winking as he handed her the glass.

Y/N took the water gratefully, trying to collect herself. “Well,” she began, glancing between the two of them, “I had to move out quite urgently from my apartment, I’m currently crashing at my colleagues place and I can’t afford an apartment for myself in the city... You guys are actually the only people who replied to my application. Which I appreciate, thank you for considering me.”

Wade, on the other hand, was already nodding enthusiastically. “Well, aren’t we just the Good Samaritans of the roommate world? Don’t worry Y/N, we’ve got plenty of space and...” he paused for dramatic effect, “—an unbeatable blend of charm and wit. Right, Logan?”

Logan just rolled his eyes in response, which seemed to amuse Wade even more. “Don’t mind him. He’s actually a big softie once you get past all the grumbling and scowling.”

“Keep talking, Wade, and you’ll be finding a new place to live,” Logan said, his tone deadpan but with a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Y/N smiled, feeling the tension in her chest ease slightly. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. She could already see how living with these two would never be dull.

Logan rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he focused on Y/N again. “So, you’re in a tight spot. What about work? You able to hold your own with rent, or do we need to worry about you bailing?”

“Yes,” Y/N confirmed. “I teach in high school. It’s a steady job, so I can definitely cover my share of the rent. It’s just finding an affordable place that’s been the problem.”

Wade grinned, clearly pleased. “See? Told you she’s a responsible one. Just so you know, Logan teaches too. In a special school for special kids or something like that-”

Logan interrupted, “It’s an organisation for kids who can’t go to normal school-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, and I work in a bar. And I do gigs on some nights because I’m funny as fuck. We could use some fresh energy around here. Between Logan’s brooding and my, well, awesomeness, you’d be the perfect balance.”

Logan shot Wade a look but then turned back to Y/N. “As long as you can keep up with us and don’t cause trouble, you’re good with me.”

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

Wade raised his glass in a mock toast. “Welcome to the madhouse, Y/N. Just remember, if things get too crazy, you’re always free to join me on a spontaneous road trip. Logan secretly loves those.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, bub.” Logan muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile too, feeling more at ease. This might just work out after all.

“Alright then, when would be a good time for me to move in?”

“We already have a spare key for you so, whenever really.”

“Okay. Okay. Wow, this is happening. You have no idea how anxious I’ve been feeling for the past few days because of all of this, so, really, thank you so much.”

The two men smiled at her. “ We’re as happy as you!” Wade declared, grinning from ear to ear.

She left the apartment after a while, thanking all the gods out there for this opportunity. She had no idea what would have happened if the answer had been negative. She didn’t want to think about it, preferring thinking about how she would decorate her room and settle down in this new place with those two guys. She knew she was in for an adventure.

____

Logan stared at the laptop screen. Y/N’s application was pulled up, and he read through it for the third time. High school teacher, praised by students and colleagues alike, with glowing references and a bright, friendly photo attached. On paper, she was perfect. Too perfect.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his beard. “I know we don’t have a choice anymore but, » he pointed at the application on the screen. “ Too nice for us.”

Wade was lounging on the couch nearby, flipping through channels on the TV. He glanced over, an easy grin spreading across his face. “What’s that supposed to mean? Nice is good. We could use a little nice around here. Plus, it’s done, we gave her the keys.”

He frowned, closing the laptop with a snap. “I know. But we’re not exactly… fucking normal. You’ve got your gigs, your… nightlife. I’m not exactly Mr. Sunshine either. What if she can’t handle it?”

Wade chuckled, tossing the remote aside. “Logan, peanut, buddy…2008 sexiest man alive look-alike-”

Logan cut him, “Quit it.”

Wade continued. “You’re overthinking this. She’s a teacher, right? She’s probably seen it all—teenagers are practically mini versions of us, minus the PTSD and questionable life choices. Plus, she applied to live with us, so she knows what she’s getting into.”

Logan didn’t look convinced. “Yeah, but what if she doesn’t? Our lives aren’t exactly easy to mix with someone like her.”

Wade rolled his eyes and got up from the couch, walking over to where Logan sat. “Look, you’re worried because you think we’ll scare her off. But maybe she’s exactly what we need to lighten this place up. Besides, we already chose her so…Quit it.”

Logan let out a reluctant sigh. “Okay.”

Wade patted the man’s shoulder. “That’s my man!”

He didn't stop patting Logan’s shoulder, his hand slowly lowering to his bicep and squeezing it “Now, that’s one of the reason why she’ll prefer you-” Logan immediately slapped his hand away and got up from his chair, Wade flinching and screaming in fear in the process.

An adventure, that was for sure.

XXX

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 16

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: suggestive content, little bit of angst, and fluff wc: 2.5k

A/N: sorry for the unprecidented delay in updates! Life got in the way and then I got sick and lost a whole day of writing. 😥

Chapter Selection

🦇BatFam Group Chat🦇

Dick: So Jaybird, how'd she take it?

11:02am

Jason: … I didn't tell her yet.

11:08am

Steph: WHAT??? 😰

11:09am

Tim: 😐 … Do you think a better moment is forthcoming?

11:11am

Jason: You really want to talk to me right now, replacement? After the shit you pulled?

11:12am

Steph: ???

11:13am

Jason: HE KNOWS WHAT HE DID!

11:14am

Dick: Ok, ok! Look, this doesn't have to be a big thing. Just tell her, it'll be fine!

11:15am

Damian: Do not lie, Grayson. It is a big thing, and Todd is not so stupid that he will think otherwise.

11:17am

Babs: You really should tell her soon, Jay.

11:20am

Jason: … Well when is Tim telling Bernard, huh?? They've been dating longer than we have, how is it not Gang Up On Tim Day??

11:22am

Tim: Yeah, I told Bernard. … And he already knew. 😬

11:23am

Dick: … We're gonna discuss that later. Right?

11:26am

Tim: Report's already in the Batcomputer.

11:27am

Babs: … Seriously, Tim??? O.O ????

11:32am

Tim: Hey, hey! Can we get back to Gang Up On Jason Day?

11:33am

Jason: No! I'm working on it, leave me be!

11:36am

Steph: … Given how she handled everything yesterday, what's the issue? Do you think she won't be able to take it?

11:40am

Jason: That's not it at all! … With her I get to be a normal guy. And the second I tell her, that goes away, for both of us

11:41am

Damian: … Granted, I have very little experience with women, but I do think that if she wanted normal, she would have bowed out the second she realized she was talking to a Wayne.

11:43am

Dick: Or when B showed up at the diner

11:45am

Babs: Or when Damian showed up at her apartment

11:46am

Cass: Or after sitting through a dinner with all of us.

11:47am

Jason: 😒 None of you are any help at all

11:50am

After the gala, Jason became determined that I should know how to defend myself. I was incredibly uncomfortable with going to the gym with him, but after a week of assurances he had me at least partially convinced me that no one would bat an eye at me there.

Once he had the green light, he jumped into action. He took me out to get some workout clothes, and we started going to the gym together once a week. I, like most every Gothamite, had taken self defense classes as a kid, so we started with some flexibility improving stretches, strength building, and making sure I still had a grasp on the basics. Every week we trained for a few hours, and Jason would take me out for dinner after.

I would never have expected it, but I actually started to look forward to our gym days. Jason was his most cuddly after training, especially when he was particularly excited about some progress I made. Every time I got a hit in, or blocked one of his, he would beam like the sun itself. The first time I caught him by surprise and kicked him to the ground he actually scooped me up in a bear hug, cheering for the whole gym to hear.

And what's more; his work was so sporadic that it was hard to predict if and when he'd be called away on the average day. He did his best to avoid it when we had plans, but sometimes he just had to go in. But he made arrangements with someone who worked for him so that our gym days were our days, so they very quickly became the day every week where I was guaranteed his undivided attention.

It was all so delightfully domestic. We would spend the night before together, just cuddling though he was slowly getting used to me touching him more. In the morning we made breakfast and ate together in bed. We'd go for a ride on his bike, see what was new at our favorite used book store, have lunch and a walk around the park, and head to the gym. After training we would take quick showers in the locker rooms and bring some take-out home. Sometimes we'd fall asleep in each other's arms, but if he had an early morning at work he would tuck me in with a kiss and head home to get some sleep.

Damian started coming over once in a while as well; as we had discussed, he would text me that he was on his way first. Somehow he never tried to come over when I was at work, and he avoided gym day too. But his visits didn't always correlate with Jason's. Sometimes it was just the two of us, and on those days he slowly started to open up. He would do homework at my kitchen table while I made dinner, we'd play video games or watch movies, and eventually the manor would send a car to take him home. He always grumbled that I didn't need to walk him out, but I wasn't about to let him out of my sight in my neighborhood, and he didn't protest past that.

Eventually he started leaving a set of casual clothes at my apartment. I took him to the cafe down the block, let him pick out snacks at the corner store, and one day we took the bus to the local craft store. He bought a dozen craft kits; crystal growing, shrinky dinks, window decals, little figurines to paint, even a candy making kit. They only made an appearance on days when Jason had to work, and Damian always looked so sweet and relaxed while we played with them, and every time he made me promise not to tell anyone. I wasn't sure what was so bad about his family knowing he played with age appropriate toys, but I always assured him that no one had to know if he didn't want them to. The crafts were always carefully packed away when we were done and tucked into a nondescript box in my hall closet.

Steph, Tim, and Dick all found me on Waynebook, and eventually Steph invited me to join girl's night. That Tuesday I found myself at Babs' apartment with her, Cass, and Steph, watching a movie, eating pizza and popcorn, and painting Steph's nails for her. Dick started sending me memes and safety reports from my neighborhood. I wouldn't even hazard a guess why he was so up to date on my area's crime reports, but I did appreciate the heads up. Tim didn't send me many messages, usually just letting me know when Bruce had been trying to get Jason to bring me by again, but he definitely stalked my profile since he liked a picture from my high school graduation. His stalking tendencies were starting to amuse me more than anything else, so I didn't mention it to Jay. Anything that strained their already turbulent relationship felt like unnecessary information.

Jason took me to see an outdoor showing of the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. He packed a picnic dinner for us, making sure all my favorite foods were available, and brought several blankets and pillows. He held me close and whispered in my ear, quoting along with Mr. Darcy when he confessed his love to Elizabeth; “you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on...”

It was an unusually peaceful day in Gotham; the kind of day that makes the hard ones worth powering through. We drove back to my place with the windows down. I didn't notice when Jason's mood shifted, but I did notice his hands trembling as he unpacked the picnic basket, and him glancing at me next to him. I set a hand over his, frowning slightly; “... Honey?”

“Hm?” He swallowed hard. “Y- yeah?”

“Are you ok?”

“Course. … Course I’m ok, doll.” He smiled softly, kissing my forehead.

“Cause you’re squirming like something’s wrong…”

“No, no! Nothing’s wrong, baby, honest. … Sorry, I just … I wanted to …” He frowned, taking a deep breath. “... We’ve been together for a while, and I … was thinking we could try something tonight?”

I blinked a bit, nodding slowly; “Oh? What did you want to try?”

“...Um … can we … push the comfort zone a bit?” He refused to look me in the eye, blushing bright red. I bit back the urge to giggle at how cute he was being, squeezing his hand instead.

“That could be fun~ … but if anything pushes back-”

He nodded quickly. “We’ll take it slow. And I’ll tell you if I need to stop, promise.”

I nodded, cupping his cheek; “very good. Then, how would you like to proceed?”

“Um … well, … I really like kissing you … I was thinking … maybe we could kiss some more places?”

I nodded, crossing my wrists behind his neck. His hands rested on my hips, stroking in small circles. “That sounds nice. You want lights on or off?”

“... Off will help.” He nodded slowly. “Is that ok?”

I nodded; “of course. Changing one variable at a time is always best practice, right?”

“Oh god…” He chuckled, holding me close. “What is this, some kind of science experiment?”

“I mean, we are experimenting, and it’s not not science - it’s biology and chemistry and psychology, and probably a bit of neurology.” I giggled, leaning in more. “I think the only thing we’re missing is the part where you have to write stuff down for it to be science. … So unless there’s something you’d rather be doing, I guess we could start writing out some lab reports …”

“... You know what, you little dork?” He scooped me up, tossing me casually over his shoulder, and began walking toward the bedroom.

“Woah!” I gasped sharply, giggling; “what?! What’s going on?”

He kicked the door closed behind him and laid me on the bed, leaning over me a bit, his hands trapping me between them on the bed. “I’m going to show you what I’d rather be doing … i- if that’s ok?”

The demanding tone he'd used was making me tingle all over. I bit back a giggle at the cautious way he ended the sentence, nodding quickly. “Sounds good to me~”

I could see a bit of his face in the light from the window, enough to see his eager grin as he dipped down, capturing my lips with his. I cupped his cheek, kissing back hungrily. He moaned softly, pressing his knees to the mattress on either side of my hips. I ran my hands through his hair as he slowly pulled away from my lips, kissing along my jaw to nibble gently on my earlobe. I gasped sharply, shivering at the contact, and he moved on to kiss down the side of my neck.

His lips slowly trailed from my throat down to my collarbone, placing gentle kisses there. “Is this … still ok?”

I panted softly, whimpering, and nodded. “Yeah~ yeah, this is … ooooh Jay~ this is amazing~”

He grinned against my chest, kissing more. His hand slowly made its way to my side, and his fingertips slid under my shirt a bit. “And … this?” He slid his hand a little further.

I shivered hard and nodded. “ohh god, yes~”

His hand caressed my curves as he kissed and gently nipped at my collar. I quickly found myself squirming under him, whining a bit; “yes~ … j- just like that, Jay~”

I squirmed a bit as he explored my soft tummy, pressing his hands into my sides to hold me close. His lips slowly made their way a bit lower, and a bit lower, until they were at the neckline of my shirt. Jason looked up at me, stroking my sides gently.

“Can … um … can I …?” He slid my shirt up ever so slightly.

I nodded quickly, shifting to help him remove it. He tossed it aside and began kissing my cleavage again. His hands fondled and caressed more, making their way up to my breasts. He licked and nibbled there, squeezing gently.

“Ohh fuck~ Jay~”

He groaned softly, nuzzling against me. He nibbled more, holding me close. “Fuck, you're incredible, doll~”

He fondled me more, kissing all over. I panted softly, gently tugging his hair. He purred at that, nipping more. I gasped softly, tugging his hair a bit. “Ow... G- gently, Jay…”

He froze, slowly pulling back. “I … I'm sorry, … I … fuck!” He pushed off the bed, backing up until he was against the wall. He stared at me, wide eyed, as I sat up.

“Take a breath, Jay. It's ok, I'm not hurt. Your teeth are just sharp.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and slowly nodded. “... I … I'm sorry …”

“It's ok, baby.” I held a hand out to him. He slowly walked over to me, letting me pull him down to sit next to me. I stroked his back, kissing his shoulder. “Relax, it's ok~”

“It's not. … I hurt you…”

“Well, mostly you startled me. And when I said ‘ow’ you stopped.”

He sighed softly, burying his face in his hands. “... I … I hate this … I … I don't know how to do this…”

“What do you mean?”

“... I think ... After everything I’ve been through … everything I’ve done … this isn’t what my body is built for … I can cause pain, I can take pain … I don’t know what to do with … pleasure. I don’t know how to give you pleasure. And I don’t deserve to receive it…”

I frowned deeply; “... My love, … you are so incredibly strong, and it’s true that you can take an inordinate amount of pain. But you are not meant for pain. Someone as kind and gentle and caring as you deserves to experience joy, and love, and pleasure.”

“... I don’t know how.” he shuddered, staring into his lap. “... But I want to … I want us to get to be happy together … I want to be able to pleasure you …”

I nodded slowly, chewing on my lower lip a bit. “... Jay, … how did you get so good at fighting?”

“… Years of training?” 

A grin slowly spread across my face as I reached out for his hand. He let me take it, squeezing once. “Exactly. Someone who knew how to fight showed you how it was done. They had you practice punches and kicks, taught you how to shoot, right?” He nodded, slowly looking toward me. “... So why don’t we do this the same way?”

“... What do you mean?”

I cupped his cheek, purring; “you’re teaching me to defend myself. If you’ll let me, I will teach you about pleasure.”

A shuddering gasp ripped through him, and his lower lip trembled a bit as he slowly nodded, leaning into my hand more; “... Y- yes. … Yes, I want that. I … I want to learn. … Please, teach me.”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men

[winwintea]

stop posting about BALLER - zhong chenle

PAIRING ↬ boyfriend!zhong chenle x reader

GENRES ↬ pure crack idk... fluff, romance, some angst if you look in between the lines, chenle loves basketball more than you. unfortunately.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ↬ inspired by a fic i read on ao3, a tiktok i watched where op got mad at their boyfriend for having headphones in while making out, plus my post here. and also chenle's recent fanboying activity in la. ignore the title its a placeholder for now, in honor of my dear friend @syatchy london stop writing for chenle challenge

WORD COUNT ↬ 1.3K

Everyone had their hobbies. You knew your boyfriend liked basketball, you just didn’t realize he liked it that much. 

Making it your life’s goal to win over the heart of Zhong Chenle, you spent countless hours studying quizlet flashcards, watching a couple of basketball games, even trying to learn the sport as well. Although you were surprised when it didn’t take more than a few dates for you to begin dating. 

Your best friend Ning Yizhuo, on the other hand, had other ideas. 

“I just think he’s a big red flag. Who the hell puts “I’m always ballin’” as their twitter bio?” She’s sprawled across your bed, mindlessly stalking your boyfriend’s social media accounts. “What if your man loves another man more than he loves you?” 

You’re paying her no mind, working on a basketball basics test on your laptop. Eight teams from each of the league's two conferences qualify for the playoffs. The top two teams play each other in the conference finals, to determine the Conference Champions from each side. The winners then play in the NBA Finals. 

Yizhuo suddenly stands up, “Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you ignoring me?” You’re about to answer your next question, until she starts waving her hands in your face.

“What the hell, Yizhuo?” You turn around annoyed. “I was locked in!”

“Studying for basketball is crazy… Just warning you Y/N. Don’t come crying to me when your boyfriend calls you Stephen Curry’s name instead of your own.” 

You punch her in the shoulder, “I swear to god-” 

But Yizhuo seemed unfazed by your attacks, continuing on, “I’m just saying from experience hon. Sports guys like him will never love you as much as he loves his balls.”

“Um.. that’s what she said.”

—

Despite Yizhuo’s warnings and what she seemed so sure of, you and Chenle clicked in a way that none of your exes ever did. If he invited you to the gym, you’d show up with a yoga mat, pretending to do Pilates while sneaking glances at him bench pressing. If Chenle said he was hungry, you’d learn how do use a frying pan, determined to whip up something edible. And if he asked you to come over, you’d throw on your best outfit, adding an extra touch of appeal, and never forget to bring a treat for Daegal.

Spending time with Chenle was easy. It seemed almost too easy, that you began to slightly question why everything seemed so perfect. 

If there were any red flags like Yizhuo pointed out, it was probably too small to see in the mix of fun times you spent together.

Times spent together usually and often ended with the two of you cuddling or making out on his couch. 

Unsurprisingly, Chenle was a really good kisser. Plus, he was good at cuddling. You had no doubts in that moment you laid eyes on him, but everything was certainly up to expectations. He knew exactly how to hold you in his arms and make you feel like you were on top of the whole damn world. 

As you leaned in closer for another this time, your hands running through his hair, you took notice of his features. His incredibly sharp jawline (mewing tutorial when?), the flushed pink splashed across his collarbones up to his cheeks, and now that he grew out his hair longer, it was much harder to see the shape of his ears-

Hold on.

You blink and then squint your eyes for a couple of seconds, hoping you’re just imagining things.

“Chenle. Are those Airpods?”

Chenle immediately pushes you off of him and then freezes.

You see every single emotion flash through Chenle’s eyes, but he’s still speechless. You’d honestly thought you’d been through the entire spectrum of men in your life, from guys who had memes tattooed on their chest to guys who brought their mother to dates to guys with an extremely interesting savior complex, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Relax. You still had your dignity to protect. “What… are you listening to?” Maybe he was into listening to music while making out, maybe some relaxing sounds people used to cope with traumatic intimate experiences??? You were thinking of anything at this point, trying to brace yourself for the absolute worse. 

“Highlights” Chenle begins, looking at you nervously, “For uh, for the Warriors game.” Before you can even process the info, Chenle rambles on, “We’re so so close to a wild card spot and I wanted to turn the game on earlier, but you were talking about your project you were working on and I really wanted to listen, and right now it’s not like we’re talking about anything important, so I figured it might be alright if I-“

what the fuck… yeah shut the hell up right now please, you think as he keeps rambling, and turn around to grab a pillow behind to smack this big headed shit right in the head. 

“Ow-“ Chenle throws his hands up in defense, trying to block the pillow that comes crashing down. “What? Hey!”

“Zhong Chenle. I’m going to chop your fucking dick off.”

—

In the end, Chenle’s dick remains intact. 

After letting himself get beaten up by a pillow, he manages to get you to calm down, taking the airpods out, which makes you a little bit happier than you were before. 

Chenle leaves you on the couch to take a shower, allowing you to ponder for a bit. Were you being too restricting this way? Chenle seemed to still care about you, and didn’t want to take away time from your own interests as well. I mean… maybe you needed to get into basketball as well to fully understand. 

As you lounge on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through Pinterest, you hear the faint sound of the shower turning off. Before you know it, Chenle slips onto the couch beside you, his presence warm and comforting. In one smooth motion, he curls himself around you, arms gently wrapping around your waist as his head nestles into the crook of your neck. The familiar scent of the shampoo you gifted him lingers in the air, blending with the soft warmth of his skin. 

Your mind's racing, caught between conflicting emotions. And damn, Chenle smells incredible, which really isn’t helping right now.

A minute of silence passes before he finally speaks, his voice soft but serious. “Look, I get if you’re uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to push any boundaries. If that was too much, I won’t do it again. And if this is something that’s going to be a dealbreaker for us, I get it—we can end things here.”

“No, wait—no,” you cut in, setting your phone aside to face him. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Okay, it was weird. You’ll give him that. Maybe his “casual” obsession with basketball wasn’t as casual as you thought. And sure, that might be a red flag for some.

But Yizhuo’s wrong. Maybe Chenle’s got a deeper connection with his basketballs than you or whoever she’s comparing him to, but at least he’s never moaned or called you Stephen Curry in the heat of the moment.

That’s gotta count for something, right?

Yeah, maybe this wasn’t so bad. You could get used to this. Besides, he already promised he wouldn’t do it again.

Your thoughts bounce back and forth, but after a while, you break the silence with a quiet, “Did you win?”

His head lifts from your shoulder instantly, excitement buzzing in his voice. “Yeah, we did! Secured our spot in the conference finals.”

Conference finals. Oh, right. You recognize that term—studied it on Quizlet like the good, supportive partner you are.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself, swallowing down the nervous lump in your throat. Chenle might be a bit obsessed with the sport, but he was supportive of your own goals and actually a really nice boyfriend. 

“Tell me about it.”

PERM TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @ldh0000

[midnighvtm4ss]

CRIMSON TRAILS | Running Gun

Pairing: John Marston x F!Reader CW: mentions of past abuse, animal death, gun fight, period typical violence, injuries, blood loss, needles, in my mind John is 6’0 ok?? let me dream. WC: 7k A/N: and the story begins!! im giggling posting this eheh took me longer than expected to finish the chapter ‘cause i needed it to be impeccable. It’s nowhere near perfect but i fear my brain will melt if I look a second more at its google doc. As always let me know what you think and if you’d like to see more. Likes, reblogs and comments are highly suggested so I know what’s going on in your minds. Also! let me know if you want to be in the taglist

series masterlist | masterlist I AO3 link

The house always felt colder at night. Its long, empty hallways stretched out like an intricate maze, darkened by shadows that seemed to dance and twist with each flicker of candlelight. You had grown used to the chill that clung to your skin, used to the hollow feeling that echoed through the grand, oppressive mansion. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the distant tick of the grandfather clock at the end of the hall and the occasional clink of glass coming from the dining room downstairs.

You couldn’t sleep, like most nights, and wandered the corridors alone. Your little bare feet were silent against the polished floors as you wandered the empty corridors. Thankfully the second floor was empty, as all the maids were now occupied with a business party your father was hosting downstairs.

Not that it mattered, the maids barely looked at you anymore, and when they did, their eyes were sharp, filled with disdain. You heard them sometimes, whispering about you—how you were a burden, something unwanted. "The little ghost," they’d often call you, mocking how quiet and small you were. But it was the way your father looked at you that hurt most. Like you were the cause of everything wrong in his world. Like you had stolen something precious from him the day you were born.

Your chest tightened at the thought of him, and instinctively, your feet carried you toward the only place you ever felt safe.

A faint, warm glow spilled from beneath your brother’s door, a welcome contrast to the darkness of the house. You didn’t want to bother him, but you needed him. You always needed him. He was the only one who actually saw you, who cared for you in a world that seemed determined to treat you like a ghost and push you far away.

With a soft push, the door creaked open, revealing your brother, sitting on the edge of his bed. He was hunched over something, his dark hair messy from a long day. With the candlelight contrasting his frowning expression, he looked older than his sixteen years, but his eyes lit up when they met yours.

“Hey, Birdie,” he greeted, his warm voice chirped, though you could hear the exhaustion beneath it. “Can’t sleep again?”

You shook your head side to side and stepped into the room. The familiar scent of freshly washed bed sheets contrasted his usual scent of hay and tobacco wrapping around you like a blanket. He always smelled like the outdoors, like freedom. The kind of freedom that Governess Constance, the only person in that house aside from your brother that treated you like you were supposed to treat an eight years old kid, would read to you in one of your goodnight books.

“Come on then, sit here with me,” he said, patting the bed beside him. His voice was gentle, and as always, it soothed the growing ache in your chest. You scrambled up onto the bed, crossing your legs as you sat next to him.

On his lap was something wrapped in a soft cloth, the fabric fraying at the edges. He was working on it, carefully running a strange stone over the surface with long, practiced strokes. You watched in silence, following his every move with big curious eyes. The steady rhythm of the blade against the stone hypnotic.

“What’s that Isa?” You asked after a moment, your voice barely a whisper as you hugged one of his cushions.

Isaiah—your brother—hesitated, glancing at you from the corner of his eye before slowly unwrapping the cloth completely. Your breath caught in your throat as the object inside was revealed—a dagger. Not just any dagger, but a beautiful, intricately crafted one. The hilt was white adorned with swirling patterns with silver detailings, the blade gleamed in the candlelight, sharp and polished to perfection. A dangerous beauty.

“It’s for you,” he said quietly, holding it out for you to take.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “For me?” you asked, your small hands trembling as you reached for it. The material of the hilt was cooler against your skin, the weight of the dagger much heavier than it looked. “W-why are you giving me this?”

He sighed, running a hand through his tangled hair, avoiding your gaze for a moment before putting one arm on your shoulder in a sideways embrace. “Because I can’t always protect you,” he said softly, the sadness in his voice startling you. He looked back at you then, his eyes shadowed with something you didn’t quite understand. “I’m not gonna be here much longer, Birdie.”

The words hit you like a punch much more painful than your father’s drunken beatings, knocking the air from your lungs. You stared up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you mean?” Your voice cracked, tears started to pool in your eyes and the dagger trembled in your hands. He didn’t respond and looked down.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head in denial. “You can’t. Y-you can’t leave me. You p-promised you’d stay. You promised!” the weight of the situation made your stutter come back. Your training with Miss Constance to tone it down out of the window in this moment.

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking with the weight of the lie. “I know I did.” He reached out, his rough hand cupping your small face, brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “But this family? This life? It’s killing me. And I don’t want to end up broken like him.”

Your chest felt tight, like you couldn’t breathe. The room spun around you, and all you could focus on was the weight of the dagger in your lap, the one thing that felt real. You clutched it tighter, trying to ground yourself, trying to keep him here with you.

“But you’re a-all I hav-h-have,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “What am I supposed to do without y-you?”

Isaiah pulled you into a fierce hug, his arms wrapping around your small frame. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him, trying to memorize it. “Oh, my sweet, sweet sister, you’re gonna be alright,” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re stronger than you think. And one day, when the time comes, you’ll use that dagger. You’ll protect yourself.”

Your tears soaked into his shirt, heavy sobs shaking your entire body. You didn’t want him to leave. He was the only one who cared, the only one who made you feel like you were more than just a shadow in your father’s house.

“Promise me you’ll come back,” you whispered, your voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt. “Promise me.”

He pulled back, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’ll come back for you, little Birdie,” he said, but there was something hollow in his voice. You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You better.”

He smiled then, a small, sad smile. His eyes looked down at an identical set that was looking up at him, and for a moment, it was just the two of you. Two siblings, bound together in a world that had been cruel to them both since their birth. You wanted to hold onto him forever, to keep him from slipping away, but deep down, you knew you couldn’t. He was too restless, too wild for the cage your father had built around you.

In the morning, his room was empty. His bed was cold. A deep voice boomed through the halls calling his name, and then—

You jolted awake, your breathing unheaven as the remnants of the dream clung to your mind like a fog refusing to lift. Your heart pounded loudly in your ears, and for a moment, you thought you could still feel your brother’s arms tight around you, hear his voice whispering sweet promises he’d never keep. You laid there, staring up at the canvas roof of your tent, blinking against the bright light of the morning sun that filtered through the holes in the fabric.

You sat up slowly, rubbing your tired eyes, trying to shake off the memories that had followed you out of sleep. But they lingered, like the heavy, humid air that surrounded you.

Your hand drifted beneath your makeshift pillow, where his dagger laid sheathed. The leather now worn and cracked with age. You reached out and ran your fingers over it, the familiar pattern in the hilt soothing you like one of Miss Constance’s lullabies. It was the only part of him you had left, the only piece of your old haunted life that still mattered.

Your brother had told you you’d need it one day.

He’d been right.

But as much as you liked to extract yourself from reality and go to the comfort of your memories there was no time to dwell on the past. The present had demands of its own. The sun was already high in the sky, and the dry heat of October had begun to seep into the air of West Elizabeth, even though summer should have been a distant memory by now. It was unusual for the weather to be so hot this time of year, but the West had always been unpredictable. Today was no different. The earth around you was baked and dry, the sparse yellow grass crackling under your boots, and the few trees that shielded your camp offered little cover from the relentless sun.

You sighed and pushed yourself up to your feet, dusting off your floor length red skirt, stretching the stiffness from your limbs. Your camp, hidden in the Great Plains just outside of town, was modest—a second hand tent, a few basic supplies scattered around the campfire and your horse hitched on a nearby tree. It wasn’t much, but it kept you out of sight and away from trouble. Most of the time, anyway.

You washed your face, water splashing away the last remains of sleep and made a mental note to soon refill your bucket. As you prepared your coffee, your thoughts drifted back to your brother, to that final night you’d spent together. You wondered what he’d think of you now. A wanted woman. An outlaw, just like him. Though you doubted he’d wanted that for you.

But choices have consequences and your consequences, for better or for worse, led you to this life.

Finishing your coffee you put out the small fire as best as you could. You approached your horse Willow—a beautiful Ardennes with strawberry roan you managed to steal away from home. She nickered softly as you approached and gave her a gentle pat on the neck before slipping the saddle onto her strong back. You had errands to run today, groceries to buy and supplies to collect. The trip into Blackwater made you uneasy every time, but it couldn’t be helped. You needed to eat, and there were only so many supplies you could steal without drawing attention to yourself. So far, you’d been careful. You’d kept your head low, using a fake name, and stayed out of sight.

But Blackwater was dangerous territory. Given that it was the second largest town in the untamed west, the law had eyes everywhere, and bounty hunters passed through the town circling like vultures over dead meat.

Your wanted posters had been plastered all over the North East American regions. The first months after the day that sealed your fate you found the paper manifesto in a town nearby where you grew up. The paper inked with some vague artist’s rendering of your face and beneath your portrait written in all capitals was your name with a 500$ reward for whoever caught you, preferably alive. The portrait didn’t resemble you enough to get you caught. Yet, you decided to completely flee the region, finding yourself wandering in the famous uncivilized west.

Mounting your horse you steered her out of the camp, the town of Blackwater looming in the distance. The ride into town was quiet, the road dusty and empty save for the occasional wagon passing in the distance. The heat was oppressive, the sun beating down on your head, making sweat bead on your forehead. By the time you reached the outskirts of town, your shirt clung to your skin, the dry dusty wind doing little to cool you off.

Blackwater was bustling with life by the time you arrived. The town had grown over the months you spent in the region, more folk moving in, more buildings popping up along the main street. Wagons creaked along the dirt roads, horses snorted, and people moved about their business with the kind of hurried energy that only came with trying to escape the midday heat. You kept your head low, as you guided your horse down the main street.

“Cornwall City Railway expanding ever more with rumors of the works coming to Blackwater. Come and read more Ladies and Gents!”

The newspaper seller shouted as you dismounted outside the general store and tied your horse to the nearest hitching post. Your eyes scanned the street for any signs of trouble, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just folks living their lives as usual. For a brief moment, you let yourself relax.

Inside the general store, the cool air offered a momentary relief from the unforgiving heat outside. You greeted the shopkeeper and moved through the aisles quickly, picking up fruits, canned good, coffee, and a few other essentials for camp. The shopkeeper, an older man with a long thick beard, barely looked at you as you placed the goods on the counter.

"That all?" he asked, his voice disinterested as he bagged your items. So much for customer service.

You nodded, sliding a few bills across the counter. He took them without a word, and you turned on your heel, leaving the store as quickly as you’d entered. The exchange was quick, with no questions, no lingering looks, you wondered if that was for the best. You stowed your items on Willow's back, gifting her an apple before resuming your chores.

Your next stop was the post office.

As you entered the wooden building you were met with a couple of empty benches, the wooden building almost empty save for the post office clerk and another man. The post office clerk, a tired-looking man with silver thinning hair, was shuffling through a stack of letters when you approached the counter.

“I’ve got a parcel,” you said, your voice calm and steady.

The post clerk barely looked up. “Name?” he asked, his fingers still rifling through the letters.

“Deliah Hill,” you replied. Your fake alias coming out of your lips like second nature. The man shuffled to the shelf behind him, after a few seconds he turned back.

“Nope, no letters or parcels under that name.”

You shifted on your feet. Biting the inside of your cheeks you pondered on your options. Could she have used your real name to send you your parcel?

You looked around, the post office was deserted enough. With a sigh, you asked the man to search under your real name. Years passed from the last time you used that name. The moment your name left your mouth, you felt a shift in the room. A chill ran down your spine despite the heat. The clerk’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he looked at you before going to retrieve your parcel. For a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the pounding of your heart in your ears.

The post office clerk handed you the parcel. “Thank you,” you said, your voice steady despite the panic rising inside you.

You turned to exit the building and behind you, someone shifted—a man, leaning against the wall by the door. You could feel his eyes on you now, sharp and calculating. Recognition flickered across his expression, and a slow, dangerous smile curled at the corner of his lips.

Bounty hunter.

You kept your face neutral, your fingers twitching closer toward the dagger on your belt. Your steps were slow as you walked out of the post office, the weight of the man’s gaze heavy on your body. You could feel it, the way his eyes followed your every movement, like a predator stalking its prey. The moment the sun kissed your skin you wasted no time. You stalked down the street towards your horse when a man bumped into you making you almost lose balance.

“I’m so sorry, Sir” you quickly apologized. He stared down at you from under his tall hat with pensive eyes and a stretched smile under his thick mustache. He was dressed in a two piece black suit, definitely too warm for the weather. “Where wolves prowl, ravens follow.” he said and gave you a last glance before continuing his path. What a strange man.

You shook your head and mounted your horse, hands steady despite the adrenaline flooding your veins.

Don’t run. Act normal. Keep calm.

As you rode down the street, the hot air seemed to thicken with tension. Your heart raced in your chest as you prayed he wouldn’t follow you. Willow’s hooves kicked up dust as she made her way toward the edge of town, your mind racing with possibilities trying to form an escape plan and get back safely to camp. If you could make it to the woods, you’d have a chance to disappear and take a shortcut to camp. He wouldn’t follow you there. Not without backup.

But as the last building passed you by on the outskirts of Blackwater, all your hopes vanished. A shout boomed in the air.

“Hey you! Stop right there!”

Your pulse spiked, and you kicked your horse into a gallop, dirt flying up behind you as the sound of hoofbeats thundered from behind. You didn’t need to look back to know what was happening. The hunter had been waiting for you.

Judging by the sounds of hooves on the dirt there were three, maybe four of them. Their shouts grew louder as they gave chase. You risked a glance over your shoulder, your heart pounding harder as your eyes spotted them—three middle aged men with rifles strapped across their backs and pistols in their hands, their eyes hungry with the promise of a reward.

One of them fired a shot, the crack of the gun slicing through the air. The bullet whizzed so close you could feel the heat of it landed on your side. You cursed under your breath and leaned low over your horse, urging it to go faster.

The woods weren’t far now, but the hunters were closing in, their shouts carrying over the wind like hyenas laughing at their prey.

They weren’t going to stop. Not until they had what they wanted, and that unfortunately was you.

The air seemed to shimmer with heat, dust kicking up in a haze covering the surrounding area as your horse rode across the dry, cracked earth. The world around you blurred, but your mind was sharp, every instinct screaming at you to ride faster, to outrun them. Your heart hammered in your chest, its pulse loud in your ears.

“Come on, lady,” you whispered to your horse, digging your heels into her sides as you urged the animal to go faster, gaining back a strained neigh from Willow. The woods were close now, the trees loomed ahead like a dark sanctuary, the thick branches of the trees casting long shadows over the dusty trail. If you could make it there, you could lose them. You could be free.

But the bounty hunters were relentless.

You looked back at them once more. A man with a scar running down his cheek, leveled his rifle and aimed. The sharp crack of his gunshot echoed in the air. You turned to look ahead of you, squeezing the reigns in your hand in anticipation, and then you felt it—a jolt beneath you as your horse staggered.

“No!” you screamed, your heart plummeting.

Willow let out a terrible, guttural cry, her body lurching forward as her legs buckled for a moment. Blood spurted from her side where the bullet had hit, staining her coat. But she regained control and kept running, her strong legs carrying forward, even as the wound drained the life from her with every step she took. You felt tears sting your eyes as you urged your horse onward, knowing the animal was running on sheer survival instinct alone.

“Ardennes are war horses, they might not run like Arabians but they’re strong,” Mister Anderson, your riding instructor once told you.

“Can you teach me how to ride one?” You were met with a bitter laugh, one you were far too accustomed to. He wasn’t laughing with you, but at you. You knew that it was near impossible for a thirteen years old girl to control such an animal but there was no harm in trying. You felt anger bubbling up in your body as you eyed your father’s Ardennes.

“Just a little more,” You whispered, your voice strained with desperation. “Just a little more then we’re safe.”

The woods closed in around you, the thick trees swallowing you whole as you crossed into the shade. The bounty hunters' shouts grew more distant, their voices muffled by the forest, but you knew they wouldn’t stop. Not yet. You could still hear them faintly, calling out your name, their taunts carrying through the trees like a ghostly echo.

“Come on out, girl! We’ll make it quick if you give up now!”

“You can’t run forever!” another voice shouted.

But you weren’t listening anymore. Your mind was solely focused on your horse, your only friend, who had carried you through so much, and who had never once let you down. The mare’s breathing was ragged now, each step slower, more labored than the last. Blood dripped hot from her side, staining the dry grass beneath you, second after second you could feel the horse’s strength fading.

The horse collapsed to her knees, unable to carry on. She let out a weak, broken cry as her legs gave out beneath her, sending you tumbling from your saddle into the dirt. You quickly scrambled to your feet, your breath catching in your throat as you rushed to her side.

“Willow! No, no!” you shouted, kneeling beside the mare, your hands trembling as you reached for the horse’s injury. Your hands stained with blood in mere seconds. The animal was breathing heavily, her eyes wide with pain and fear, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. Blood pooled around you both, thick and dark covering the woods’ floor.

You ran a hand over the horse’s coat, your fingers brushing through the mane as tears blurred your vision. “I’m sorry,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

Willow let out a soft, almost pitiful sound, her head resting heavily in the grass. The horse’s body shuddered, life slowly draining from her eyes, but even now, she was trying to stay strong. It was like she didn’t want to leave you. Like she didn’t want to fail you.

Everything stilled, it was as if you were trapped in a bubble. You didn’t know, or care, where the bounty hunters were, but they were still out there, combing the woods for you. You could hear their voices, faint and taunting, calling your name but none of that mattered in that moment. All you could see was your horse, your loyal friend, dying in your arms. Another life lost because of you.

You pressed your forehead against Willow’s, your tears falling onto her soft, velvety nose. The pain in your chest was overwhelming, a grief so deep it felt like it might burn you from the inside. This horse had been with you through everything—through your escape from the hell that was your home, through lonely nights when you had no one else. And now you were losing her. You were losing the one good thing you had left.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered again, your voice shaking. It was the only thing you could think of. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

You pressed a trembling kiss to the mare’s forehead. A last goodbye. “You were brave, girl. You can rest now.”

The horse’s breathing slowed, and as if following your command her body shuddered one last time before she went still. You could feel the life leave her body.

For a long moment, you stayed there, your hands resting on the horse’s neck, caressing her, as if your actions would ease her soul. You wanted to scream, to rage against the world, but there was no time. You snapped back to reality as the voices of the bounty hunters were getting closer now.

You forced yourself to stand, wiping your tear-streaked face with the back of your hand. Your heart ached, but you couldn’t stay. Not if you wanted to survive. The bounty hunters would be here soon, and they’d show no mercy. You had to run.

With one last, heartbroken glance at your horse, you turned and sprinted deeper into the woods, your legs carrying as fast as they could. Your boots thudded against the soft earth, your breathing ragged and uneven as you darted between the trees, your mind racing.

The forest was dense. Branches whipped at your face as you ran, one in particular caught on your skirt, tearing the fabric to your knees. You fell, knees burning from the scratch. Your lungs burned with each breath, but you couldn’t stop. You had to keep going.

Then, through the trees, almost as an apparition you saw it—an old, crumbled wooden cabin, barely visible through the thick underbrush. The wood was weathered and covered in vines, the roof sagging in places, and one of the walls had partially collapsed, leaving a hole covered by some planks big enough to enter in the side of the building. It looked abandoned, forgotten by time. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A place to hide. A place to catch your breath.

Without hesitation, you sprinted toward the cabin, using all the energy left in your body. You could still hear the bounty hunters behind you.

The planks on the side creaked loudly as you pushed them to open the hole, the wood groaning under your weight. Inside, the air was thick with dust and the smell of mold, the floorboards creaking beneath your boots. Cobwebs covered almost every corner of the room, and broken furniture was scattered across the room, but it didn’t matter. You weren't looking for comfort—you were looking for survival.

You put the planks in place and crouched low behind an overturned table near the back of the cabin, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you tried to quiet your racing heart. Your hand rested on the grip of your dagger, your knuckles white. You knew it was nothing against their rifles but at least if they found you, you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

For now, all you could do was wait with your heart heavy with the loss of your horse and your mind focused on staying alive.

The footsteps of the hunters grew louder outside, their voices drawing nearer. You held your breath, your body tense as you listened, praying they wouldn’t find you here.

This cabin was your last chance.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, louder than the whispers of the men searching for you. Then, beneath the irregular sound of your own heartbeat, you felt something else—something sharp and burning.

Your hand drifted to your side, fingers pressing under your ribs. Warm, sticky blood coated your palm. Panic flared in your chest as you realized—one of those bullets they fired didn’t scrape you but had actually hit you. You hadn’t felt it before, the adrenaline masking the pain and pushing you forward. But now as the effect started to die down, pain took its place. A shot, not deep, but dangerous enough. You gritted your teeth, wiping the blood on your torn gown, willing yourself to stay conscious, to stay alert.

You needed to figure out what to do next—escape, hide, something. But then, the cold sensation of the barrel of a gun made contact with the back of your head. You closed your eyes for a second before turning to face your fate.

Fate took the form of a man, no older than twenty-six, lean but muscular, his long dark brown hair falling messily over his sharp features covered by a faint beard. His piercing gaze was cold, focused. You could sense he carried himself with the confidence of someone used to the dangerous weight of a gun in his hand. And there it was—pointed right at you. You looked up at him from your kneeled position, completely at his mercy.

From the shadows, next to the man, another figure stepped forward. The second man was much older, his weathered face marked by lines of age and experience. His silver hair combed back. His eyes, though, were sharp with curiosity as he took in your state. His eyes seemed to look into your soul and that terrified you more than the gun pointed at your head.

You could feel both their eyes on you—taking in the tear-streaked dirt on your cheeks, your disheveled hair, the blood staining your skirt tored from the knees down. But more than anything, their gazes linger on the dagger clenched tightly in your hand, its intricate hilt glinting in the dim light filtering from the cracks of the cabin. Your brother’s dagger.

“Don’t move,” the younger man said, his voice cold and steady, the barrel of his gun unwavering as he clicked its safety off.

Your breath hitched, and without thinking, you raised the dagger in your hand, pointing it toward him in a futile attempt at defense. Not really a wise choice since he had a gun pointed directly at your head, but you were cornered, wounded, and outnumbered. Most of all you were tired.

The older man—his voice smoother, almost soothing—spoke next. “Easy now, no need for more bloodshed.” He stepped closer to the younger man, placing a hand on his arm. “John, calm down.”

John. The name floated in the air as your grip tightened on the dagger, your eyes flicking between the two men. The tension was thick, your body tense, ready to lash out or flee, but the older man kept his gaze on you, caging any movement. His eyes calculating but not unkind.

Outside, you could hear the voice of the bounty hunters calling for you.

“Come on out now! It’ll be easier if you don’t make us drag you out!”

“Miss,” he says softly, eyeing your trembling hand, gripping the dagger like a lifeline. “You're hurt. And from the sound of it, those fellas outside ain't exactly your friends.”

John’s grip on his gun tightened, his eyes flicking toward the door before settling back on you looking you up and down. His gaze piercing. “We can’t trust her, Hosea,” he mutters under his breath. “She could be one of them.”

Hosea didn’t look away from you, though he rolled his eyes at the younger man's sentence. “Does she look like one of them to you?” he asks, his tone calm but with an edge of irritation. His eyes swept over you again, the blood, the tear-streaked face, the bleeding wound on your side. “She’s in no shape to be hunting anyone.”

You have no idea who these men were, but something about the older one’s voice was reassuring, like hot milk and honey on a cold night. But the younger one—John—you couldn’t say the same, his distrust was palpable. Your instinct told you to run, to hide, but the growing footsteps outside told you otherwise. You were trapped.

“You gonna fight off all those men out there with a knife?” Hosea asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or would you rather come with us?” At his proposition the younger man lowered his gun in disbelief, eyeing the older man with fury.

You swallowed hard, feeling the blood drip from your side, the sharp sting of your wound biting deeper making your thoughts hazy. You’ve always been alone, fending for yourself, trusting no one. But here, now it wasn’t a choice between trust or caution. It was life or death.

“I—” you started, but the sound of boots crunching outside the cabin silenced you.

You felt your heart almost beating out your chest. Run or fight? Die here cornered like an animal or continue to fight. Who were these two strangers, could you even trust these men? Why were they willing to help a wanted woman? Your mind struggled to come up with an explanation and under the exhaustion you gave in.

“I’ll come with you,” you muttered, lowering the dagger, your fingers numb from the tight grip you’d held onto it with.

John scoffed. “You sure about this, Hosea?”

Hosea nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, I think she’ll be more use to us alive than dead.” He outstretched a hand towards you, helping you up on your feet. “Let’s go, before those boys outside kick the door down.”

Without another word, Hosea moved toward the side of the cabin, looking outside before gesturing for you to follow. John, still glaring at you, holstered his gun but kept one hand hovering near his hip, ready to draw at any sign of trouble from you.

You slipped out, moving quickly and quietly through the dense underbrush. Your side burning with every step, and the world seems to tilt dangerously, your vision blurring as you stumbled after them. The sounds of the bounty hunters behind you fade as you made your way deeper into the forest, but your legs started to grow weaker, your strength fading with every drop of blood you lost.

Hosea led the way, his steps sure and practiced, while John brought up the rear, gun ready in his hand and eyes darting around as if he expected an ambush at any moment. They moved fast, and you could barely keep up. Your head spun, your breathing labored as the last remains of adrenaline slowly ebbed away, leaving only the raw, gnawing pain storming in your body.

“I’m not your enemy,” you hissed through gritted teeth, as you felt John’s eyes studying you. The effort of speaking sent a sharp, stabbing pain through your side.

“But you sure as hell ain’t acting like a friend either.” He replied, his tone harsh. He took a step closer, his gun never leaving his hand. “And from where I’m standing, you’re more trouble to us than you’re worth.”

Your blood boiled at his words, and despite the dizziness creeping in around the edges of your vision, you lifted your chin, his height making you glare up at him “You don’t know a damn thing about me,” you spat, your voice shaking with the weight of your fury and exhaustion. “If I was trouble, you’d already be dead.”

John’s lips curl into a smirk, but there’s no warmth in it. “Is that so? You’re half-dead on your feet, bleeding all over the place, and you think you’re in any shape to make threats?”

“I can handle myself.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t look like it.”

The sound of Hosea’s voice urging you two to move along snapped you out of your staring contest with the man.

After some more walking you reached a small clearing, in the distance you could see two horses tethered to a tree, a large black morgan snorting impatiently and a silver turkoman with various pelts on his back. You stopped in front of the horses, the memory of Willow’s death fresh and painful making you still. John stopped at your side, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you.

“You’ll have to ride with me.” He urged, the words clipped. Your eyes locked with his gray ones briefly before looking back at his horse. Though for a moment you hesitated, you clumsily climbed on the saddle, the sharp pain in your side restricting your movements. He climbed behind you, his arms circling your waist to keep you from falling off. You heard a clicking noise behind your ear and the horse started to move. The world blurred as your vision wavered, your fingers gripping tightly on John’s forearm muscles as exhaustion threatened to consume you. You could hear Hosea saying something, his voice distant and far away.

“Hold on tight, or you’ll fall off.” John’s gruff voice cut through the haze.

You wanted to snap back at him, but you couldn’t respond. Your strength long gone. You pressed your back against John’s chest. The pain in your side too intense, the blood loss catching up to you. Your grip slackens on his arms making him let out a curse.

And then, darkness took over you.

───── •✧✧• ─────

Consciousness returned slowly, like the gentle light of the sun after the rain. You blinked against the light coming mostly likely from an oil lantern, your vision a hazy blur of shapes and colors. As you tried to focus, you became aware of three figures looming over you, their faces shifting in and out of clarity. Panic fluttered in your chest for a moment as you struggled to push yourself up, your body heavy, the pain in your side reminding you of what happened previously. The last thing you remembered was John’s arms tightening around you and his low voice saying something in your ear.

One of the figures stepped closer, the soft glow of the lamp in the other man’s hand illuminating his features. It was an older man with a ginger mustache and hollow eyes, a look of concern etched deep into the lines of his face. There’s something kind about the way he looked at you.

“Easy there, Miss,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. Just relax.”

The other two figures remained just beyond your sight, their silhouettes casting long shadows across the room. One came beside the ginger man, a tall woman with a stern face, her arched brow furrowed in concentration as she spoke to the man. “—got to make sure it doesn’t get infected,” the woman said, her voice crisp and commanding. “If we don’t stitch her upright, we could lose her.”

As you laid there, struggling to grasp the situation, a wave of warmth washed over you, followed by a sharp sting in your side. You flinched involuntarily, the sensation jolting through you like lightning. That’s when the man with the mustache spoke to the woman beside him “Give something to this poor soul!” he exclaimed, and the other two turned their attention toward you, eyes widening as they saw your pained expression

“Stay still,” the woman commanded, her hands deftly working as she threaded the needle through your skin. “You need to let us do our job, Miss.”

The sharpness of the needle pierced you again, and a low groan escaped your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, fighting against the pain. “W-what are you doing?” you gasped, panic rising again as the burning sensation spread across your side. Who were these people?

“Just sewing you up,” the man replied, trying to sound comforting, but his eyes held a glint of urgency. “It’s going to hurt a bit. Just keep breathing.”

The third figure, the man with the lamp in hand, stepped back, circling around the woman to give her more light, allowing you a clearer view. His face was familiar—Hosea. You remembered him from the cabin, the kindness in his eyes when he had convinced you to trust him and follow him and John. He watched you intently, a mixture of worry and sympathy written on his face.

“Hang in there,” Hosea said softly, his voice grounding you as the woman continued her work. “You’re going to be alright.”

You felt a rush of warmth and comfort at the sound of his voice, the sensation short lived and quickly replaced by the sharp stab of the needle as it pierced your skin once more. You winced, tears springing to your eyes, and the woman frowned.

With each stitch, the burning intensified, the pain nearly overwhelming. Your screams were agonizing and you tried to thrash against the cot beneath you, but a strange sense of exhaustion settled over you. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized you needed to focus on something, anything else. You thought of your brother—his laughter, the way he always made you feel safe, the last memory you had of him giving you that dagger, his last gift of love and protection.

“Don’t close your eyes, stay with us,” Hosea urged, as if sensing your thoughts drifting. The woman pressed a bottle into your hand. “Here, drink this. It’ll help with the pain,” she instructed. You blindly gulped down the liquid realizing after a few seconds that it was whiskey. The liquid sharp and burning as it travelled down your throat, making you cough slightly. Soon you felt its effects dulling your senses, a warm haze began to envelop you. “I can’t—” you started, but another wave of pain crashed over you, and you could feel your eyes fluttering, the world around you dimming again.

“Stay awake,” Hosea said, his voice soothing and steady. “You’re safe. Just breathe.”

You tried to focus on his words, tried to keep your eyes open, but sleep spread through you. The voices around you faded, the edges of your vision darkened, but not before you caught a glimpse of one last figure—the younger man, John—stood in the corner of the room, his expression unreadable.

He looked different now, less like a threat and more like someone who understood your pain. But as you slipped back into the void, your last thoughts were of your brother, his smile and the warmth of his embrace.

And then, with a final flicker of awareness, you drowned into the darkness, your mind drifting away on a sea of memories.

———————————————

taglist: @laylasredemption @starlightt180 @photo1030 @oceanwaves1998

[sellenite]

cherry blossoms 04 pairing: virgin!Choso x fem!reader contents: fingering (f! receiving), squirting, praise kink (lightly), friends to lovers word count: 3.5K notes: hi everyone <3 if you have been following this little series I am so sorry for the insane delay in posts, I have been struggling with my health recently and it took me a lot longer to write this than I hoped! but I am feeling better now and I sincerely hope everyone enjoyed reading. as always, thank you so, so very much for any and all likes, reblogs and/or comments 🥲🫶 MDNI | 18+

The night didn’t go the way you had expected it to, in all honesty. You thought you would probably kiss him, tentatively at first, and maybe eventually with a little tongue. You assumed he would be shy, that you may have to guide his hands to your body and encourage him to feel you under his palms. You had fantasized about going farther, giving him head, but you didn’t think you would actually get the chance to. And the last thing you expected was to find yourself in the position you were in now, with Choso practically begging you to let him return the favor. He wasn’t quite sure how to please you yet, but he was determined to try. And he was not about to pass up the opportunity to show his gratitude to you, not after you had just given him the gift of your mouth. You could see the adoration and lust in his deep purple eyes as he gazed at you, and you couldn’t help but give in.

“Well, maybe I could show you first if you want,” you offered as you were seated on his lap, thighs straddling his as you ran the tip of your finger up the hem of his t-shirt. “I could teach you what I like, and then you could try it?” Your gaze met his, gauging his reaction. You didn’t want to make him feel too overwhelmed too fast. Choso had gone from never kissing a girl to having his first sexual experience in the span of a few hours, and you were nervous that taking your clothes off for him might just do him in. But Choso was determined and nodded eagerly in response to your suggestion.

“Yeah, teach me… I want to know how to please you,” Choso said, his voice huskier. His lips parted ever so slightly as he looked at you, taking in your face—the soft kindness of your eyes, the slight flush of your cheeks, and your pretty lips. He wondered if you could feel how devoted he was to you at this moment, see it in his eyes how he ached to please you, to make you feel as good as you made him feel. You smiled at him softly, running a hand through his deep brown locks before pressing a lingering kiss to his parted lips.

“Do you have a mirror?” You asked him after pulling away, a mischievous glint sparkling in your eyes that made Choso’s brain drop straight to his dick.

After fishing through the cluttered drawers of his and Yuji’s shared bathroom, you finally procured an old dollar-store hand mirror. Choso followed you back to his living room, quiet confusion evident on his face as you instructed him to sit down with his back against the couch's armrest. You swallowed down the last bit of your nerves as you shimmied your sweatpants off, your eyes glancing over to Choso’s with a meek smile. Choso’s eyes were glued to your figure the entire time, gazing in awe as you revealed more of your bare skin to him. He was still confused about what you had planned, but it was easy enough for him to become distracted by your body. His hands found your hips tentatively as you joined him on the couch, slotting your body between his legs as you laid back against his chest. His palms smoothed down over your thighs so softly as you leaned into him, as if he may hurt you or scare you away if he put too much pressure.

“You’re so pretty like this,” you heard him murmur into your ear, more to himself than to you. He shifted behind you, perching his chin onto your shoulder to watch as his hands traced over your body, relishing the feeling of your soft skin beneath his palms. “Just want to touch you everywhere.” You could feel his breath ghosting over your ear as he leaned over your back, the pressure of his hands becoming hungrier as he grew more comfortable touching you.

You laughed contentedly as you settled back into Choso’s chest, in no rush to hasten his exploration of your body. You leaned into his touch, letting your knees fall relaxed and parted into the caging of his own as his palms groped the backs of your thighs, moving closer to your ass. Choso let out something akin to a grunt as he felt all the curvy parts of you melding into his touch, felt the way your body relaxed into his, starting to open up to him. He barely even registered that he was searching for your skin with his mouth until you let out a light, shuddered moan when his tongue pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“Mmm, Choso… Are you sure you haven’t done this before,” you teased him lightly, extending your head to the side to give his lips even more access to the skin there while his hands continued to play with the shape of your body. “Never,” he slurred haphazardly against your skin, far too intrigued by your taste and feel to form any coherent response. You felt his hands sliding back up toward your hips again as his tongue worked against your neck, drunkenly enthusiastic in his efforts to consume as much of you as possible. His thumbs pushed up your hips, sliding under the elastic of your underwear before he realized that he had entered new territory. His lust-heavy eyes turned once again to gaze over your shoulder, watching the space between your thighs as his thumbs poked out from your underwear line, dangerously close to the space he wanted to see the most.

“Is this okay?” He asked you breathlessly, already worked up again from the excitement of touching you like this. You nodded against his shoulder, turning your head to look at his face, the tip of your nose brushing against his. “You can take them off if you want,” you told him softly, your eyes mirroring the same want you burning in his dark irises.

“Can I?” Choso swallowed dryly, his thumbs lightly pulling on your underwear's waistband, restlessly toying with it. He wasn’t anxious to see more of you but more so just engulfed by the privilege of being with you like this, to have the honor of you trusting him with your body. “Wanna see how pretty you are here too,” he said softly, nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours as you twittered with affection. You kissed him in response, smiling against his mouth as your lips melded together, one of your hands reaching up around the back of his neck to lace your fingers through his hair.

You held each other like this for a few moments, the emotions between you soft, the slightest stirrings of a young love flitting in your stomach, like the beginning of spring. Choso’s hands tentatively began to push the waistband of your underwear down slowly enough that you could stop him if you wanted. But you didn’t, only breaking away from his lips so you could lift your hips with a smile, helping him to slide the fabric down your legs. You settled back against his chest once you were free of the garment and positioned the mirror between your parted thighs, laughing lightly to yourself at the very hands-on anatomy lesson you were about to give.

Choso’s chin was propped up on your shoulder again, wetting his lips as you angled the mirror between your thighs so he could see the reflection of your glistening heat. “Can you see okay?” You giggled as you asked him, feeling the slightest bit shy as you bared the most intimate part of your body open for him to see. Choso nodded quickly against your shoulder, suddenly feeling like his words were caught in his throat as he stared hungrily at the reflection of your pussy in the mirror. He had never seen a woman naked before, but he felt his body reacting to the sight of you almost instinctually. His cock, which had been steadily swelling up beneath his sweats, was now pressed firmly against the plush of your ass. His hands were groping longingly at your inner thighs, his fingertips just barely teasing the swell of your outer lips. You took a breath before you trailed your free hand down to yourself, parting your folds open more so Choso could see all of you. He groaned low in his throat at the sight.

“You’re beautiful… So, so beautiful.” His fingertips grazed closer to your wetness, his breath heavy next to your ear. “Want to touch you, pretty girl, please… Need to feel how soft you are.” Choso’s words were hungrier in your ear now, needier as he devoured your slick skin with his eyes. “I’ll show you how,” you told him softly before you gently took his hand in your own and guided it between your thighs.

Choso watched unblinking as you placed his middle finger on top of your clit, with your hand resting gently on top of his own as a guide. “This is the clitoris,” you said to him gently, pushing your middle finger down into his. “It feels really good when you touch it… Kind of like this,” you explained, trying to make your voice sound confident despite the way it shook from the feeling of his fingers on you.

You rubbed your finger over his to demonstrate how you would touch yourself, biting your lip when Choso mimicked the movement against your sensitive skin. He rubbed circles into your swollen bud with his calloused fingertip, the digit gliding effortlessly over your flesh from how wet you were already. His other hand gripped the plush of your thigh with vigor, holding onto it like an anchor. Choso wanted to treat you gently; you were so soft to him, so pure, he didn’t want his excitement to get the best of him, despite the way he felt every one of his senses desperate to devour you at that moment.

“Am I doing it right?” He asked you, breathing heavily next to your ear as he let your hand guide him, slowly adding pressure on his own as he became more familiar with your body. It brought him so much pride to know that he was making you feel good; he wanted to please you as much as he possibly could, do everything and anything you wanted. So he followed the cues you gave him diligently, watching the reflection of your pussy in the mirror, how the small hole at the bottom of you seemed to tighten up when he pressed a little harder.

“Uh huh, you’re doing so good for me, Cho,” you praised him sweetly, the pitch of your voice rising slightly in your effort to keep your moans in. You bit your lip harder, trying to stay quiet enough to continue to give Choso instructions, but it was getting increasingly difficult. You guided his movements for a few more moments before you removed your hand from his and let him continue at his own pace, opting instead to hold onto his forearm.

“I wanna make you feel really good,” Choso slurred against your skin as he turned to bury his face into your neck once more, sloppily sucking on your exposed skin. His fingers kept moving, dragging circles around the swell of your clit, experimentally running up and down the bump, and your hips twitched in his lap in response. A louder moan escaped your lips at the increase of sensations, and Choso groaned at your reaction. “Wanna make you sound like that again, too,” he moaned back to you with a grin, his fingers rubbing your clit faster and causing your nails to claw into his forearm. You let out a breathless laugh at his enthusiasm, turning your head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“You can put your fingers inside me if you want,” you encouraged him. You pushed down on his wrist lightly to guide his movements as he turned back to look in the mirror, watching the reflection as his fingers inched towards your entrance. Choso was inexperienced, yes, but he knew enough about sex to have an idea of where you wanted him—and based on the way your hole pulsed as he touched you, he felt certain that was where you needed him most. His long middle finger dipped down your slit as he gently grazed the outside of it, and you whimpered softly.

“Right here?” Choso asked you breathlessly, circling your entrance as you moaned out your approval. You hadn’t realized how worked up you were until this moment, suddenly feeling desperate to be stuffed full of his thick fingers. And the slow pace that Choso was massaging outside of you was starting to feel agonizingly teasing. “Right there,” you echoed back to him, your nails digging into his forearm with the anticipation of being touched.

“You feel so wet… Are you always like this?” He groaned as he watched his fingers circle you, pulling away just to watch the clear fluid you leaked stick to his fingertips. “It means you’re making me feel good, Choso,” you moaned to him, grinding your core into his fingers to try and get more friction. Choso smiled to himself at your praise as the tip of his finger found your entrance once more, putting the lightest touch of pressure against the ring of muscle.

“More, Choso, please,” you begged him, and you sighed out in pleasure as he happily obliged, finally pushing his thick finger inside of you. Your body welcomed him easily, the wetness of your arousal coating his skin as he slid inside of you, moaning at the feeling of your body wrapped around him. “You’re so warm inside,” he groaned, pushing his finger into you until he had filled you up to his knuckle. You moaned at the feeling of him inside of you, the sensation partially satiating your craving for him, but not enough.

“Add another finger, Cho,” you instructed him as you started to bounce your hips against his hand gently. “And then move them in and out together, and just keep doing that.” Your voice was breathier now, more desperate as his touch got more intimate. Choso nodded over your shoulder, watching with parted lips as he pulled his finger almost entirely out of you before adding his ring finger. You whimpered as he thrust his fingers inside of you—slowly stretching you open—and your hips twitched to meet his hand.

“Like this?” Choso asked you huskily, pumping you full of his fingers as your cunt squelched and leaked around them. You moaned in approval for him as you laid your head back to rest on his shoulder, bracing your body against his broad frame. Your breath was quickening, your inner walls beginning to clench and unclench around him faster. You watched his veined forearm between your thighs, muscles rippling as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, the sight only making you feel hotter as you rolled your hips to press into him.

You abandoned the mirror to bring your hand to yourself, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing circles into the bud in time with Choso’s thrusts. His grip on your thigh tightened, instinctively pulling your leg open more to watch you touch yourself. He groaned at the sight, eyes heavy-lidded as he felt your walls tighten up around his fingers even more as you rubbed circles into your clit. “Does that feel good?” Choso’s words were heavy next to your ear. You could feel his thick cock pressed into your backside, rolling his bulge into the swell of your ass unconsciously every time you writhed in his lap.

“L-love it, Cho,” your voice came out as a whine as your breathing became more labored, watching his thick fingers pump in and out of you, glistening with your arousal. “Your fingers feel so good inside of me,” you praised him, and Choso groaned behind you before attaching his lips back onto your neck, sucking more marks into the already-bruising skin. He felt utterly consumed by you, and feeling how hot and tight and wet you were around his fingers made him feel some primal kind of urge to sink his teeth into you, to taste you, to hold you, to take you. How he longed to feel those tight, wet walls wrapped around his cock. Choso felt like he could get off from the thought of it alone now that he knew just how soft and warm you were inside.

“Wanna make you cum, pretty girl, please… Wanna feel you cum on my fingers,” he slurred into your skin, moaning like he was the one being pleasured, practically whimpering into your ear. You clenched around his fingers from hearing his needy tone, your hand rubbing faster, stronger circles into your clit.

“Need you t-to curl your fingers into me a little more; can you do that for me?” You begged breathlessly between moans, hoping he could follow along without any further direction. Choso hummed in approval and you felt his fingers curling up, pushing up into your walls, drawing closer and closer each time to exactly where you needed him until he landed right on that spot inside of you. You wailed as his fingers curled into you with precision, your back arching to press further into his hand. Choso groaned at your reaction, utterly enamored with making sure you made that sound over and over again, diligently pressing up into the same spot inside of you with a fast rhythm.

“Is this the spot you like?” Choso rasped against your neck. His fingers were moving quicker and more confidently as your body began to tremble in his arms. He was quickly learning the cues your body gave him, from how your back arched into his touch, how your breathing changed, or how your nails dug harder into his forearm. Words failed you suddenly as you felt that dizzying heat inside of you rising—coil winding tighter inside of your core as you worked yourself up with Choso’s fingers—and all you could do was nod your head desperately. You reached your free hand up and back, arm bending to tighten around his neck, anchoring yourself even further to his body as he pushed you further and further towards your edge.

“Gonna cum, Choso,” you warned him breathlessly, breasts heaving as you braced your body against his. Your legs shook despite the tight hold he had on your thigh, keeping you open for him as your walls began to clench tighter and faster around his fingers. He groaned into your ear as you writhed in his lap, your ass rubbing up against his erection, the delicious friction making him feel like he was about to spill himself.

You could feel that familiar heat, but something else along with it—a sharper build that was flooding your senses with want every time the pads of his fingers massaged against the rough patch of your inner walls. But you were too pleasure-drunk and gasping in Choso’s arms to recognize it until suddenly you were crying out and gushing around his fingers. Choso kept curling his fingers into you, groaning under his breath as he watched you squirt onto his hand as whimpers slipped past your lips, chest heaving and lips parted open.

Your hips twitched in his lap, your body quivering as your brain unraveled in waves of pleasure. Choso’s hips stuttered against your body until he stopped abruptly with a deep groan against your ear, his fingers stilling inside of you while his other hand clutched tightly to your thigh. Whimpered pants left your lips as you started to come down from your orgasm, slumping back against Choso’s shoulder. “Oh my god, Choso,” you laughed breathlessly, your cheeks flushed and body still buzzing from the aftershocks of just squirting all over his fingers. “That was so good; you did so good,” you clarified enthusiastically, turning your face to give him a winded smile.

Choso’s cheeks were flushed just as much as yours, his chin resting heavily on your shoulder. He slid his fingers out of you to hold your other thigh, softly rubbing your skin as he caught his breath. “I did good?” He asked you with a boyish smile, turning his head on your shoulder to meet your eyes. You laughed giddily at his reaction, kissing his cheek affectionately. “More than good, Choso. I– don’t even think you realize how amazing that was for me,” you giggled to him, thinking of how you might possibly begin to explain the concept of squirting to him after all of this. Choso just beamed at you in response, seemingly still coming down from his own physical exertion.

“It was good for me, too,” Choso smiled sheepishly at you. It didn’t take long for all the clues to click into place about exactly how “good” it had been for him, especially once you realized that his noticeable bulge had suddenly vanished. You pressed another soft kiss to Choso’s cheek before your lips met his, tenderly and slowly. The heat of the moment had settled into a warm calm, the song of the long-forgotten movie’s ending credits rolling on in the background of the living room.

AN: omg I have been so nervous to upload this because I feel like my writing skills are so rusty 🥲 but I really hope that everyone still enjoyed this 🫶 also, if you had asked to be tagged and were not, I am so sorry! I decided not to do tags on this one because it had been so long and I wasn't sure who all was still interested 🥲

[ox-imagines]

Tokyo Debunker as Romance Tropes

Feel free to ask me to write a longer imagine/oneshot for any of these!

Pt. 4 | Sinostra

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | Pt. 7

Ritsu - Stuck in an Elevator

You were at a business conference and your work friend left you to go to the bathroom, telling you to go ahead to the next workshop without them. You waited a minute but gave in, worried you’d be late and not wanting to get chewed out by your boss for it. No one else was on the elevator but as it was closing, an arm stuck through, stopping the door. A put-together young man stepped in and promptly introduced himself as Ritsu Shinjo, though you didn’t understand the formality of introducing yourself to a stranger on an elevator. As the machine rose, it shuddered, stopping. The lights flickered for a moment, ultimately staying on though you were a bit panicked. Your new acquaintance, Ritsu, reassured you, pressing the emergency call button and speaking calmly to the operator. Once the line cut off, he sat in the corner, gesturing for you to do the same. His polite, friendly disposition helped put your nerves at ease and he talked with you the whole time the two of you waited, asking for your number once the elevator started moving again.

“Make yourself comfortable. What are you here for?”

Taiga - Bet

Taiga isn’t exactly a romantic, to say the least. When he asks you out, you agree, not having the slightest clue what you’re getting yourself into. He asked you out because someone bet that he couldn’t get you to say you love him, and Taiga loves gambles as long as he knows he can win the gamble. That being said, he took the bet and is determined to see it through. It’s a longer task than he’s used to, and sometimes he starts to get distracted or bored and think how many things he could do with you that would be more fun than trying to court you, but he puts the thoughts aside and reminds himself of his goal. Fortunately for him, he ends up getting you to say those three little words after almost two months, but unfortunately for him, by that time he’s also fallen for you just a bit. He tells you about the bet over lunch one day not long after, catching you off-guard and upsetting you, and he tries to tell you to relax and that it doesn’t change anything, because now when he tells you he loves you, he’s pretty sure he really means it.

“Would you sit down? Lulu doesn’t like it when I cause a scene, he says it drives casino patrons away or sum’n. Be glad I took the bet, we wouldn’t be together otherwise.”

Romeo - Your Boss

Romeo has high expectations for everyone around him, especially those he’s in charge of. As such, he tends to be a very demanding, occasionally overbearing boss. He also definitely picks favorites. You follow his instructions well as soon as you start working under him and it catches his attention, him commenting on your performance and adding to your workload. Over time, he notices the quality of your work worsening and calls you into his office. He starts ranting at you about how he’d expected more from you and he’ll have to let you go if you can’t handle your position. As he raises his tone he notices the way your shoulders are slumped and the tired look in your eyes. It’s not that you haven’t been doing your best in your work, he genuinely did just put too much on your plate. He would be remiss to let go of someone who actually did their work properly, so he lowers his voice, clearing his throat softly and sitting back down across from you. You feel a gentle pressure under your chin: his finger, lifting your head so you were looking at him.

“Fine. I’ll reassign some of your tasks, you’re a good worker. And take care of yourself… I can’t have you out there looking like that, you’re gonna scare off customers. I’ll bring some skin and hair products to your dorm later.”

[novaursa]

Hello, can I order a Rhaegar Targaryen x reader stark? younger twin sister than lyanna stark but reader had hair white as snow that's why they called her the white wolf reader arrived at the king's landing with his father weeks after his brothers and sister arrived Prince Rhaegar Targaryen fell in love with her at the first moment but not her with him. She was allergic to princes and princesses, she understood the cruelty of the world and that no one did anything without a reason behind it.

So yes, Rhaergar did kidnap her, yes, he took her, yes, he imprisoned her in the tower of joy until she agreed to be his. Rhaigar killed his father, hurt Robert Barateon, who tried to get his fiancee's sister back. Lyanna asked many times to see her sister, Rhaigar never allowed her. Lyanna, through tears, shouted to Rhaigar that he should never have told her that day where her sister would be riding.

the now king smiled changing my mind and letting her see it When he took her to the chambers he saw a door full of chains and padlocks when he entered. Her sister, the great white wolf warrior, saw her sitting in a rocking chair with her beautiful eyes now opaque without shine and with a bulging belly obviously in sinta. Lyanna ran to her sister through tears, hugging her. reader directing his gaze to rhaigar my king husband who is she? Rhaigar is someone who wants to separate you from me

reader pushed lyanna to the ground getting up shaking her dress going to her king Rhaigar smiles at Lyanna while You no longer have anything here, girl, go back to the north. Lyanna wipes her tears and gets up, I swear I will kill you for what you did to her. leaving the room while the doors were closed

Please

The Chains of the White Wolf

- Summary: dark!Rhaegar kidnaps you and locks you away in the Tower of Joy.

- Pairing: stark!reader/dark!Rhaegar Targaryen

- Note: I've left out some information that can't fit into one scene of 1000 words alone and kept only important ones for the plot.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The ride to the Tower of Joy was long, the heat of the Dornish sun beating down mercilessly as Lyanna Stark guided her horse over the rough terrain. Dust swirled around her, clinging to her hair and clothes, but she hardly noticed. Her mind was fixed on one thing—the reunion with her twin sister. Y/N. The White Wolf. 

Her heart twisted in her chest, torn between hope and fear. The whispers of what had become of her twin had reached her ears, each rumor more dreadful than the last. Rhaegar had taken her—stolen her away from their family. And now, after months of searching, she was close. So close.

Eddard rode beside her, his face as grim and determined as ever. Behind them, his men followed in silence, their swords ready for the battle they expected to face. But it wasn’t battle Lyanna feared; it was what she would find inside the Tower.

As they approached the stone structure, three figures came into view, standing at the entrance like specters from a nightmare. Rhaegar Targaryen was in the center, his violet eyes glinting in the sunlight, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, stood to his right, his legendary blade Dawn strapped to his back. Gerold Hightower, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, was to his left, his expression unreadable beneath his white helm.

Lyanna felt her blood run cold at the sight of Rhaegar. The man who had shattered their world, who had brought war to their lands, and who had taken her sister. Yet as much as she hated him, there was something about the way he looked at her that made her uneasy. Amused, almost. As though this was all some game to him.

"You've come a long way for nothing, Lady Lyanna," Rhaegar said, his voice smooth, calm, as if they were discussing something trivial. He stepped forward, a king in every sense now, clad in dark Targaryen armor. "But I will humor you. You wish to see her?"

Lyanna stiffened. "Take me to her. Now."

A soft chuckle escaped Rhaegar, but he turned and gestured for her to follow him. "As you wish."

The Tower loomed before them, the air thick with the heat and the tension. Lyanna's heart pounded in her chest as she followed Rhaegar up the steps, every part of her screaming to be wary, to be ready for some trap. Eddard and his men remained outside with Arthur and Gerold, but her brother’s eyes never left her, filled with silent warning.

Inside, the air was cooler but stifling. The stone walls seemed to close in around her, and with every step, Lyanna’s dread grew heavier. Rhaegar led her through winding corridors, the silence between them unnerving.

When they finally reached the chamber, he stopped before a heavy wooden door, pulling a key from his belt. He turned to Lyanna, his expression inscrutable. "I must warn you, she is not as you remember."

Lyanna's heart clenched. "Open it."

With a faint smirk, Rhaegar unlocked the door and pushed it open. Lyanna stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat.

The room was dim, the curtains drawn against the harsh Dornish sun, and the air was filled with the scent of lavender. In the corner of the room, a figure sat in a rocking chair, gently swaying back and forth.

It was Y/N.

Lyanna felt her knees nearly buckle. Her twin, the White Wolf of the North, the warrior who had fought beside her in the snow-covered forests of Winterfell, sat hunched, her white hair dull, lifeless. Her eyes, once so fierce and full of light, stared blankly ahead, distant and empty.

Y/N was with child. Her swollen belly stretched beneath a simple gown, and she rocked herself gently, her hand resting on her stomach. She looked like a ghost of the sister Lyanna had known.

"Y/N?" Lyanna's voice trembled as she took a step forward.

There was no flicker of recognition. Y/N continued to stare ahead as though Lyanna were a stranger, a passing shadow.

Lyanna rushed forward, falling to her knees beside her sister, tears streaming down her face. "Y/N, it’s me. It’s Lyanna. Please... Please, look at me!"

Slowly, Y/N’s gaze shifted toward her, confusion clouding her features. "Who are you?" Her voice was soft, distant, as if she were waking from a long, troubled sleep.

Lyanna's heart shattered. "It’s me, Y/N. Your sister."

Y/N’s brow furrowed, her eyes drifting past Lyanna to where Rhaegar stood, watching with a twisted smile of satisfaction. "Husband," Y/N said, her tone more childlike now. "Who is this woman?"

Rhaegar stepped forward, his voice a low purr. "She is someone who wishes to take you from me, my love. Someone who does not understand that you belong to me now. As you always have."

Lyanna felt as though she had been struck. Her sister recoiled from her touch, her eyes widening in alarm. "No... I don’t want to leave. I don’t... I belong here, with my husband." Y/N pushed Lyanna away, her movements frantic, as if she were frightened.

"Y/N, no! He’s poisoned you. He’s twisted everything!" Lyanna cried, reaching for her again, but Y/N scrambled away, shaking her head, panic overtaking her features.

Rhaegar's smirk deepened as he watched Lyanna’s anguish. "You see, Lady Lyanna, there is nothing left for you here. My queen has made her choice. Return to the North, where you belong."

Tears streamed down Lyanna’s face as she looked at her sister, the bond they had shared for so long now shattered, broken beyond repair. She rose to her feet, her hands trembling, her heart torn apart.

Before she turned to leave, she cast one last look at her twin—at the hollow shell of the warrior she had once known. "I swear to you, Rhaegar Targaryen," she said through her tears, her voice breaking, "for what you’ve done to her, for what you’ve taken, I will have vengeance."

With those words, she left, the weight of her promise heavy in the air. Outside, the wind howled, but the White Wolf remained, lost in the cage of the Tower, her light dimmed forever.

[bunny-jpeg]

trust - astarion ancunin

pairing: astarion ancunin x fem!reader rating:  18+ tags: pwp, smut, outdoor sex, intimacy & love, missionary, sappy & sweet

Oh how times had changed. Astarion was a new man, more of a man than he was for the past two hundred years. He was no longer a captive to a sadistic vampire master who only saw Astarion as a means to capture prey.

And it all changed because the vampire spawn made the acquaintance of a young traveller. If Astarion had a bit more malice in his heart he would've killed you or at least tried. But you showed him a kindness that he didn't understand at first.

 'Why me?' He'd often think to himself when you proved that there was no malicious intent with your actions. If he wanted to be free from the curse of a spawn, then you'd help him with his goal. It took him a while to get adjusted to the freedom.

But Astarion was a curious man. The way a moth is curious when nearing a flame. He wondered if he'd get burned, or worse, fully disintegrated. Dust from your simple touch.

  “I want you.” He said softly one night, his voice low in your ear, “Will you join me tonight?” His slender fingers caught strands of your hair. It was an old seduction tactic, but it wasn't to find food for his master. It was to indulge in passion for himself.

You looked over to him. Your eyes met his, you were captivated by the red of his eyes. You could only describe them as rubies, but you knew they held a lot of heartbreak. Only one look at his back gave you all the answers you needed.

  “Astarion.” You replied, “Do you want me to join you?”You fully turned around. There was a slight height difference between you two so you had to tilt your head to look at him, “Do you want me, or do you want to feed?”

He frowned, “Of course I want you, why wouldn't I?” He leaned in closer, “I want to know what our party leader tastes like. You freed me of my strings, darling. I am no puppet to no master. If I want you, it's of my own free will.” His expression softened.

You reached for him and touched his face. His skin was cool and soft. Part of you expected it to be like marble the way his features were carved. Your gaze quickly dropped to his lips before you made eye contact once more. You dragged your touch down to his chest and placed your hand over where his heart was.

If it was still beating you wondered if it would be racing. Questions of Astarion's mortal place died on your tongue, bringing up the past would only ruin the mood.

Just as Astarion was curious about you, you were curious about him. A high elf turned vampire, a magistrate turned spawn. A creature of the night with an insatiable lust for blood. So many questions yet so little answers.

  “Tell me again you want me.” You said.

He leaned closer, he crowded into your space as he said softly, “I want you. I want all of you, darling. I want to know what you feel like inside and out. I wish to devour you whole.” He pulled away, his hand took yours, “Is that enough convincing?“

You frowned, ”I am trusting you, Astarion.“

He chuckled, ”That's the first I've ever heard that. I don't think anyone has ever trusted me.“ He took your other hand, his fingers locked with yours, ”This will be exciting then, Trust.“ You could see the hint of a smile on his lips. You were inclined to smile back.

You gave him his freedom. You ripped the chains from him and gave him the choice to determine his own life. You could not heal his vampirism, but you could care for him. Maybe make him believe he wasn't a monster.

Trust. There was a nice ring to it. Trust between two willing parties and as he led you through the thick of the woods, you were more than willing to see how deep the trust ran.

-

The moon hung heavy in the sky as if it was threatening to drop on the earth. It cast a light across the land as you stepped out from the woods and into a clearing.

You held his hand tighter when you heard the call of an owl from the top of one of the trees.

  ”I'm certain an owl won't hurt you, darling.“ He led you to behind a grand rock, ”If It does, however. I'll slit its throat.“ His smile grew before he took you by the face and pulled you in for a tight kiss.

You tensed for a moment, your eyes widened before you relaxed into his touch and melted into the kiss. You held onto his arms and further the kiss. You could hear your heart racing in your ears. This was a strange feeling.

You had been intimate with men before. You were no stranger to their anatomy. But there was something enthralling about Astarion that you couldn't put into words. He was unlike any other being you had known.

He shuddered against your kiss before he pulled away, his breathing was a tad heavier. He sank with you down to the grass. The boulder obscured you both from viewing. It allowed you a little more privacy.

No owls had to see what you two were about to do.

  ”I've become addicted to you, my dear. I had been in a cage for so long and you freed me without a second thought.“ He took your face in his hands and he gazed down at you, ”You could've easily made me your slave. But instead you are more than willing to put a stake through the heart of my master. We have killed for each other and quite frankly,  I'll continue to kill anyone who gets in our way.“

You wrapped your arms around him delicately, ”I want you to be a free man,  Astarion. Even if I want to, I could never tame you. It would be like taming the great North Star, it's impossible.“

He chuckled softly, ”Getting soft on me now, aren't we?“ He tried not to feel the tug in his chest from your kind words. Maybe it was a desire to be in control and not collapse from the weight of your kind words.

You moved his hands away from your face and you held both of them to your eye level. You kissed his cold knuckles, all of his skin was smooth and soft. He hadn't aged a day in over two hundred years. You closed your eyes, ”You are the brightest star I can see.“ You opened them once more to meet his gaze, ”I would follow you to the pit of hell if it meant being by your side.“

Astarion looked at you, with minor shock across his face. He turned his head briefly to compose himself before he looked back to you, ”I think you'll be leading me to hell, darling. But it shall be much warmer with you by my side.“

You two kissed once more. Slowly you were stripped of your clothes. You parted so he could get your armour off of you along with the clothes underneath. Soon your items laid around you. You pressed your bare chest up against the front of his shirt.

The softness of the material tickled your breasts and paired with the cool air, your nipples grew hard. You exhaled deeply as you propped yourself up against the rock. You could feel the heat lingering in your face.

You could feel the heat intensify as he began to strip himself. You had seen Astarion nude before, you have seen all of your members nude at one point or another. It was the reality of being so close together. But under the pale moonlight, he looked less like a monster and more like a divine being.

Carved from the highest quality marble, the lines of his body enticed you. You swallowed as your eyes reached his hardened cock. Your hands dug into the green grass under you. It was impressive, sizable but not intimidating. To see it that close was far different than seeing it from a distance as he bathed in the river.

He noticed your gaze and reached down to touch the top of your head. His hand combed through your hair as he said, ”No need to feed my ego, darling. I know what you're going to say.“

You looked up to his face and straightened up, ”I didn't say anything.“

He laughed, ”You don't have to, I can see it in the lines of your forehead.“ He rubbed his thumb against the creases to smooth them out, ”I guess you want me as much as I want you.“

  ”I want you.“ You confirmed.

He got down to the ground quickly and encroached on your space once more. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, mindful of the scars on his back. The kiss you shared was more heated then the previous ones.

The time for affection was over as lust emerged. It heated your body as you both laid in the grass. His hands explored your body. He ran fingers across your own scars. He felt every curve that you possessed,  he felt the moles and the raised scars from your dedication to training. You heard him hiss into the kiss as he grew more aroused by the feeling of you so close to him.

In over two hundred years he never had the fortune of a lover like you.

He laid you out on the grass,  he gazed down at you. He kept himself up as he dug his hands in the grass under you. He took a moment to admire you. He had seen many mortal nude during his time on this planet. But there was a connection between you two that he couldn't deny. It wasn't sex for the sake of a meal. It was sex built on a foundation of trust.

For the first time in a long time,  Astarion trusted you. In his eyes you could do no wrong.

If he was a star, then you were the angel that hung him up in the night sky.

  ”My darling." He said softly as he grabbed you by the waist and rested himself on his heels. His cock stood at full attention as he rubbed it up against your cunt.

You covered your face with his hands, “Astarion.”

  “Don't hide yourself from me. I want to see how I make you feel.“ He replied as he reached to your face and pulled away your hands, ”Don't make me pin them down.“

You swallowed, ”You don't have to."

  "Good.“ He replied softly. He brushed his cock up against your wet slit. He exhaled sharply from the feeling. It made his cock twitch with excitement. He soon guided his cock into your sweet sex.

He tried to pace himself so as to not cause you discomfort. He kept his eyes on you for any signs of pain as he sank further into you. His jaw tensed as he felt the warmth of lust spread from his gut. Soon he had every last centimetre inside of you.

You had taken him so well. He leaned down to pull you into a tight kiss, his hands were back on your hips as to guide them up and down his cock. You let out a high pitched noise that was muffled by his lips on yours.

  ”You feel divine, darling.“

  ”Shit, Astarion.“ You replied. Your heart drummed in your chest, your breathing was heavy as you laid in the soft grass. When he thrusted up into you it felt like his cock was pushing your insides up into your throat or maybe it was your heart trying to make a quick escape from the amount of pleasure you felt through your body.

You'd dare to say that your intimate encounter was romantic. Two bodies together in the depths of lust. He leaned over you and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. In an effort to keep both of you quiet as you rutted like animals.

He played with your breasts as you tighten your legs around his waist. The sounds of your love making filled the open night air. You were thankful that you were far enough away from camp that there wouldn't be any curious members trying to seek you two out.

As if Astarion wasn't going to let the others know in his own sly way. Especially in front of Gale, who he thought had his eye on you. The vampire could have a jealous streak run through him like a splash of light in a dark sky.

Your hands roamed his shoulders, your fingers dipped low enough to touch the scars on his back. He melted into your touch, a sign of comfort towards your hands on him.

When he broke the kiss, he continued to thrust inside of you.. His eyes met yours once more, ”You look lovely under me.“

You reached out for him and held his face as you moved in time with his thrusts. You replied, ”I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.“

  ”Good.“ He said, 'Because I have no intention of letting you under another man or woman. For as long as your heart beats, you will be mine.”

You leaned up to kiss him on the nose. It was so intimate as you replied, “That sounds good to me.” Then you two kissed once more as you felt yourself nearing climax.

Hands roamed, bodies moved. Lust filled the night air as the two of you made love under the moonlight. A life with the vampire didn't seem so horrible. You tightened your legs around him as he rocked back and forth against you.

Your heart fluttered at the feeling of intimacy between you two. Trust was all you could think of. It was the adhesive that kept you two together, that and an undying, unwavering commitment to one another.

Astarion, the vampire and you, the mortal, rutted against one another in the dead of night. You gripped onto his shoulders as the intense feeling of climax flooded your bloodstream and made you light headed.

You yearned for the release. You wanted to orgasm on his cock. You could feel the grass stick to your sweaty back as the two of you moved together. The gentle sounds between you two as the urge became stronger.

You were no longer alone in these travels. You didn't only have a party to rely on, but also a vampiric lover who wanted nothing more than to devour you. You were his; mind, body and soul. But he too was yours in the same way.

Matched in wits and skill. Fighters till the end. The thought excited you. What would become of your future?

With another searing kiss, you both climaxed in each other's arms. You clawed your nails down his arms as his grip bruised your hips. With a final thrust, he finished inside of you. He marked you as his, and the thought made his body run hot.

When he pulled away, he looked down at you. He said with a smile, ”Forever mine.“ Before he pulled out of you and laid beside you in the grass.

Your breathing was laboured as you laid next to him. You could feel  his cum stick to your inner thigh as he spooned you. You held his hand as he held you by the middle.

His lips grazed at your neck. He sighed with content, ”I could turn you tonight and we'd be together until the sun melted the earth.”

You chuckled softly, “How about we finish our quest first. Then we can spend eternity together.”

He replied, “I can be impatient. But I will be patient for you, my love.”

You relaxed into his arms and felt your eyes grow heavy, “Good. Now let's kill Cazador.”

He chuckled, “Of course, my dear.” Then laid one last kiss onto your heated skin. He was scared at the thought of seeing his master again. But maybe, just maybe, with you by his side, he'll gain the courage to break himself fully free of the chains he carried.

If you believed he could be free, then he'll trust you and believe it himself.