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wwaheoh · 2 months

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hehe, i know im probably not the first and definitely won't be the last to ask, but we need a part 3 of the rejected confession series!! whether its a happy ending of reader and the character getting together or just making up and staying friends (or forever parting ways) we need closure!! so when you think you are ready for it, could we possibly have a final part? :,)

“Reconciliation”, Zenless Zone Zero x gnReader

Von Lycaon, Anby Demara, Zhu Yuan

a/n: thank yall so much for the support! its meant so much! i hope everyone enjoys the "good ending" to the Unrequited Love series.

a/n²: also thanks to that one anonymous requester, loved your ideas and helped a bunch when writing! hope i did well in realizing it!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The day before heading to the scheduled meet, you were stressed out of your mind. Having made up your mind, you decided to go, whether it be for reconciliation or- no, you shouldn’t think so optimistically. Maybe this was just a way for them to berate you for ghosting them before cutting ties forever…

With that optimistic thought, you made your way back home, finally getting off the bench you’d been glued to with thought after the brief encounter with the shark-girl. Sorta embarrassing to be told to fix your relationship by a high school girl but at this point any push that didn’t get you deeper into becoming a shut-in was better than none.

Stepping into your home, you shut and locked the door behind you before heading to your room, beelining straight for the closet. Sliding it open, you began to look through the hanged clothing, contemplating what you should wear. Something cute? Something bold? Something that you’d think he’d like or something you felt comfortable in?

After several minutes of this, you finally picked out an outfit, now onto actually getting sleep. Setting the clothes onto a chair, you went to your bathroom and undressed, putting on sleepwear and throwing yourself onto the bed.

A wave of exhaustion passed through you, wow, you were a lot more tired than you thought…

///

The outing with you had been going well, Lycaon thought, today was a beautiful day, thankfully Rina was aiding Corin today so he had no worries about being forced to cut it short and attend to any accidents their junior was prone to.

Strolling by the pier of Lumina Square, water a sunset orange as thr Sun began to set into the horizon, you stopped walking, with him following, a sign of confusion on his face.

“Hey, Lycaon?” You spoke nervously, demeanor slightly shaking. Worry began to draw in, not outwardly showing it, not wanting to make you more nervous in speaking. Something that he usually did when with clients- unconsciously leading him to thinking of you as a client rather than his friend at the moment.

Then you confessed.

His mind stopped- cool breaking as the words spilled out of your mouth and into his ears. Forcing his tail to not wag, he was about to reply. Yet what came out of his mouth was not what he intended, having forced his brain into ‘work mode’ to protect himself from all the possibilities of what you might have said.

So instead of accepting your feelings, happily rejoicing and telling you that he returned them wholeheartedly. He… rejected you. The words tumbled out of his mouth, rushed, the professional tone he used with clients slipped in. As if he were a prisoner in his body.

The look you gave him immediately showed he screwed up. Unable to approach as you began to cry, not wanting to take back the words- not because he believed them, but because he believed you would think he was simply pitying you and throwing a bone.

“I’ll start the car up. It’s getting late.”

“I- it’s- hic- it’s f-fine. I’ll get home on m-my own.”

“I must insi-”

“I said it’s fine!”

His ears drooping, wild guilt painted on his face, internally berating himself for having somehow messed up the interaction of his dreams. He went back to his car, turning it on and beginning the drive back home.

Atleast, that’s what he led you to believe. Instead, he parked in a nearby alley before shadowing you- unwilling to not see you home.

The day after that, he texted you, yet you never responded. Days of being left on ‘Read’ became days of you not opening his text messages at all.

It had begun to get at him, his voice became colder than usual with clients, still professional but with more sharpness to it. The others noticed their boss acting like this, yet were unable to pry into the why. It was a shared silent agreement between them and their boss, a wall between their professional work and personal lives. He met with Master Phatheon a few times and even they noticed something was off with the butler.

One day Ellen overheard him murmuring, quickly figuring out who he was so hung up about and what had happened- with some aid from Miss Rina. Unbeknownst to Lycaon, she met up with you unexpectedly, getting you to meet with Lycaon at the cafe. With Rina “booking an appointment” with a client, for Lycaon to meet with at the very same time.

///

Stepping into the cafe, bell jingling behind you, looking around the cafe before finding the spot Ellen had directed you to, tilting her head to the farthest seat with her signature bored look and lollipop in mouth. Nodding gratefully, you made your way to the table and sat down. Nerves ablaze, you fixed your clothes, making sure nothing was out of place. Worries bubbled up in your mind, thoughts of what could go wrong swirling in the bubbling soup of anxiousness.

Silver fur snapped you out of your spiraling, the Therian that’d been on your mind now realized in front of you. He mirrored your expression of shock, not having thought to see you again, before he quickly closed the gap, holding you tightly.

“I am so sorry.” Breathless, he looked deep into your eyes, “I had not meant to say what I did. I do wish to be with you. If you’d have me.” Not a man to screw up an opportunity like this- especially after having messed up so badly, any and all grievances be damned- he would say his peace and lay his heart into your hands, to either hold or crush at your whim.

You returned his hold, tears welling up as the two of you embraced, hearts swelling with joy as his hard, fluffy body pressed tightly against you, finally together once more. Sobbing openly as finally, the two of you were together, this time as lovers.

It was a little awkward stepping out of the cafe, with some customers very obviously glancing at the two of you after your two very public reunion…

After Anby had run from your confession, she spent a lot of time rewatching movies. Romance and tragedy specifically, trying to find a solution to what has transpired. The rest of the Cunning Hares were confused about her seemingly out of nowhere interest in those genres, usually seeing her watch action or thrillers.

There was an aching in her heart, one she had originally attributed to the loss of a friend, yet it felt stronger, much stronger. As she watched more and more, she came across an animated film, one of a failed relationship, of how being apart makes the heart grow fonder, ending with the two getting together, stronger than before.

That’s what she wanted.

While originally she was true to herself, only wanting you as a friend, time revealed that she wanted more, especially after forcing herself to dodge into alleys after even a glimpse of your hair, oftentimes leading to odd looks from the Cunning Hares or Phaethon. She wanted to be closer to you, like how the protagonists in the films were.

Standing up, resolution in her heart and an apology on her tongue, she exited the door and began making her way to your abode, moonlight and street lamps lighting the way.

///

You couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t a one-off occurrence either. Thoughts powered by the late night struck harshly, leaving lasting impressions that made sleep impossible. Especially those of a particular silver-haired girl.

Sighing, you shook your head, as if to shake the thoughts physically out, getting up from your bed and heading to the kitchen. Opening up the refrigerator, you grabbed a cold pitcher of water and a cup from the cupboard, turning the pitcher and letting the cool liquid spill into the cup, only turning it back upright as it neared the top.

Putting the pitcher back into the fridge before closing it, you grabbed the cup and steadily began to drink from it. Refreshing, always helping whenever those thoughts arrive…

A notification from your phone rang out, having left it in your bedroom you began to make your way to said room, when a knock at the door stopped you. Nothing good ever came from someone at your door at near midnight.

Grabbing a nearby object- your hand finding the handle of a knife, you quietly made your way to the door. Looking through the peephole, you saw a familiar face that made your muscles freeze.

Anby, staring right back at you. In her usual getup, with the same mono-look, but a hint of anxiousness hidden in her eyes.

Setting the knife down onto the counter, you slowly opened up the door, nerves threatening a rebellion against your body as you opened the door.

Finally face to face with Anby, without the blurriness and fish-eye view that the peephole provided, you could see how less kept she was than usual. Eyes tinged with red- a sign of screen overuse. Sweat, faster breaths, a flush of red coloring her pale cheeks.

The two of you stared at each other for a second before she quickly closed in.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked, monotone as it was, a hint of breathiness from her seemingly having sprinted here from wherever she was prior. “I shouldn’t have ran.”

You didn’t know what to do, worried that nodding or shaking your head would give the wrong impression- whatever the impression you wanted to give was lost to you.

You just stood there, listening to what she had to say.

“In the movies they always get together after the first confession. But it didn’t feel right at the time- but it also didn’t feel right saying no.”

A silence before you decided to share your two cents.

“Anby-” her attention diverted back to you straightaway, “How about this. We date for a bit- say, a year, then if you feel like it’s right, then we can continue. If not, then atleast we tried…”

“Just don’t run again, even being friends would be better than never seeing you again.”

She quickly closed the gap between the two of you, embracing you tightly, with you following suit. “Okay…” her voice was shaky, her grip on you was not.

Okay actually it was too tight- “Anby I think you’re gonna break my spine!”

Stepping out of your assigned police car, you nodded to your partner as they exited the vehicle and went to leave the premises. Qingyi having gone back to Zhu Yuan’s side after the one day the two of you were assigned together, message delivered, you wondered how she pulled off getting to be your partner.

You began to make your way to Zhu Yuan’s desk, with her filling out some final papers regarding what happened to the blimp atop of the Ballet Twins Towers. A situation that had been narrowly avoided ending in catastrophe by an inorganic citizen being insusceptible to the knock-out gasses found in the systems of the victims. Her squadron had been the first to the scene, being stopped at the first tower before being forced to evacuate and find another way up by several explosives being detonated at the bridge.

It was a headache for everyone involved, happy that the worse situation happened but not looking forward to the amount of paperwork needed to be filed, especially since the prime suspect of a major case and now this case had gone off-grid with the blimp to who knows where now.

Thankfully it seemed Zhu Yuan didn’t mind it too much, all too happy to do her work, no matter how monotonous it seemed. Turning off the computer for the day and filing papers into cabinets, she had been adding a sprinkle of water into the tomato plant she’d been growing, thoughts swirling as she continued with the monotonous task.

///

It’d been days since she last saw you. Invitations declined, only glimpses of you before you seemingly disappeared into the crowd or entered somewhere she couldn’t follow. Her days had been growing duller, work becoming a distraction to her problems.

Her mom had commented on this, citing worries about how she’d been seemingly throwing herself deeper into work and training, questioning the near-null appearances of you in recent times. She hated to lie to them, yet didn’t want to confront the facts.

She’d been too late to tell you how she felt. She would never get the opportunity again...

One day Qingyi told Zhu Yuan that she'd have to stay a little later, orders given to her to give to Zhu Yuan a little extra work. While to most, this’d be an annoyance, Zhu Yuan readily accepted the new work, not wanting to go back to her lonely apartment.

///

You knocked on the doorframe- breaking her out of her thoughts, face lighting up as she laid eyes on you.

“Uh, hey Zhu Yuan…” She set the water-can down and stood up hastily. “Hey! Uhm…” The two of you stood awkwardly as you tried to form the words you wanted to say.

“I’m sorry.” Zhu Yuan looked at you, worry on her face, urging you to continue. While she had been hurt from how you were seemingly avoiding her, she still looked at you as a close friend.

“It’s… stupid of me. But I wanted to tell you that…”

You confessed, deciding to put all your trust in Qingyi and just do it. Ripping the proverbial band-aid off, the words tumbled out.

She stood there, wide-eyed as you finished. There was a brief silence before tears began to bunch at the edge of her eyes. Your heart stopped, worried that you’d done something wrong before she closed the gap and embraced you, repeating “Yes!” and “I like you too!”, nearly squealing in delight.

You were dazed from how hard she was shaking you, before finally getting a hold. “So.. you’re not into Qingyi?”

“Huh? No, where’d you get that idea?”

“Ahh…” it was a little embarrassing to admit this in hindsight, “I thought since… you looked at her like that, that you…”

She giggled a little, before stopping quickly, “Sorry- I- I looked like that because I was thinking of you. Just, I looked away anytime you looked at me since I didn’t know if you returned my feelings…”

“Ah…”

Finally love bloomed, no longer covered by the walls of uncertainty.

#zenless zone zero #zenless zone zero x reader #zzz #zzz x reader #von lycaon #von lycaon x reader #zhu yuan #zhu yuan x reader #anby demara x reader #anby x reader #anby #anby demara #angst #comfort #lycaon

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wands-natsthing · 9 days

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𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭?

Hellooo this is chapter 2!! I hope you enjoy it. If there's anything you guys would like to see for this little thing please let me know!! Also I will be trying to update this fic at least once a week maybe either on Wednesdays or Thursdays and then posting a request or something on the weekends.

Feedback is more than welcomed, pls like and comment I enjoyed sm reading and replying to them and if you would liked to be tagged pls leave a comment

Warings: This is like previous high school student x teachers kinda sorta reader was 18 when that was happening tho no smut yet but will be implied in the future. That’s all i think but if you recognize anymore lemme know pls!!

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: You didn’t see Wanda anymore after the cafe incident but you go to the schools open house and see here there and have a talk. (I'm so sorry i'm shit at summaries)

You didn't see Wanda around anymore after that. School was lingering around the corner, with the hot summer air turning into a cool breeze. You had comfortably settled into your new apartment, adorning it with various fall decorations.

The open house was coming up in a few days. It was an event filled with eager students and their curious parents about the upcoming school year. Although you weren't required to go because you weren't a teacher, you wanted to. You needed to know if Wanda still worked there.

Technically, you could check the school's website and browse through the staff directory, but you wanted to see for yourself. You wanted to see with your own eyes whether the classroom still looked straight out of a Pinterest board. If the fairy lights you both had hung during a shared lunch still twinkled from the ceiling, if her favorite cinnamon and vanilla-scented candle still filled the room with its soothing aroma?

You wondered if her teaching methods had changed. Had the years hardened her patience, or did she repeat herself as often as needed? Did she still listen more than she spoke, or did she talk over students? Did her words continue to carry the same weight as they did all those years ago? Would they still keep you awake at night pondering over what she said?

You had so many questions you wanted answers to, but simultaneously, you were afraid to know the answers. What would you do if everything had changed? What if this wasn't the same Wanda from five years ago? Physically, she looked the same, but what would that matter if she had changed from within?

Realistically, you knew that asking her to stay exactly the same was impossible. A lot can change in five years. You should know you have grown a lot yourself, but that didn't mean you liked it.

And who was that woman?

You asked yourself this question for weeks after seeing her that day in the cafe, constantly fighting the urge to try and stalk her. It's not like you could, anyway. You didn't even know her name, let alone what she looked like, as her back was facing you, but that didn't stop you from obsessing over her.

Were they together? Were they married? How did they meet? When did they meet? Was it long after you left, or did she move on quickly, and your shared turkey and cheese sandwiches didn't mean as much as you thought?

There were just so many questions.

The day of the open house had arrived. You sat in your car, staring at the familiarity of high school. From the outside, it looked exactly the same, with the red and blue colored letters spelling out "Go Ravens!!"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you observed the array of cars in the parking lot, heightening your anxiety. You contemplated the idea of simply driving back home, but just the possibility of seeing Wanda again was too irresistible to resist.

The clock was ticking, and with each passing moment, your dread only seemed to grow.

How would she react upon seeing me again?

Would the awkwardness be palpable, or would she greet me with the same warm smile she did in the cafe?

And what about me? How was I supposed to act around her? I certainly had to do better than last time.

Taking a deep breath, you force yourself out of the car. The walk to the entrance felt longer than it was; each step was heavy with hesitation. You thought about the day she saved you as you entered the hallways filled with eager parents and students. The noise seemed to fade into the background as you made your way to where her classroom used to be. Your usual fast-paced walk is now turning into you dragging your feet.

Before you even turned the corner, you heard the same laugh you did in the cafe with another voice. Your heart skipped a beat. Without thinking another thought, you turned the corner.

There she was, Wanda, standing outside her classroom wearing black slacks and a white long-sleeved ribbed shirt tucked into them. Her hair was lightly curled down her back, and her feet adorned a pair of black loafers.

She was engaged in conversation with a parent, and her passion for teaching was evident in how she used her hands to talk and the sparkle in her eyes. You hesitated, not wanting to interrupt but unable to pull yourself away. The parent soon left, nodding and offering a polite goodbye.

As they moved, you saw her again, the redhead from the cafe.

What was she doing here?

She was leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile on her lips as she watched Wanda interact with the parent.

Your eyes met. She turned to tap Wanda to get her attention and pointed at you. You stood there awkwardly, unsure of how to approach her.

When she looked at you, the recognition on her face was immediate, and a warm, genuine smile spread across her face. "It's been a long time," she said softly while grabbing at your hands, using the same soft tone she had last spoken to you on graduation day.

"Yeah, it has. Too long," you replied, the weight of the years settling between you both. You stood there for a moment, staring before you were brought back by the sound of the woman's voice that was standing next to her.

"Hey, Wanda, I can take over here for a while if you guys want to catch up."

"Are you sure? I mean, I know it's a little busy, " she asked, looking around at all the parents and students.

"Yes, go. I'll be fine here; I can handle it, " the red-headed woman reassured her while pushing her farther in your direction.

"Okay, then let's go somewhere less crowded," Wanda said while leading you away.

As you walked to a quieter area, neither of you said a word. The silence wasn't necessarily awkward, but it wasn't comfortable either. Inside, you were freaking out.

What were you going to say? What if she told you to leave and that she never wanted to see you again?

It wasn't like you could fulfill her request if that's what she wanted. You needed this job; You could not go back home.

The less crowded place turned out to be a janitor's closet. The smell of dirty mop water and ammonia was prevalent in the air.

Wanda turned to lock the door. Once inside, you both looked at each other, wondering what to say.

"You look really good, so grown up," she whispers more to herself than to you while taking her left hand to brush a piece of hair behind your ear before hesitating and bringing it back down to her side.

You noticed that when she brought her hand back to her side, a silver ring with an oval-shaped diamond lay upon her ring finger. Has she gotten married?

"Thank you, so do you. Look really good, I mean," you stutter over yourself.

Wanda blushes with a slight chuckle, "Thank you."

"Of course," you smile.

Tension lingered in the air as both of you had questions but had no idea how to ask them or if you even should.

Wanda is the one to break that tension.

"So, um, not that I'm not super happy to see you because I am, but what are you doing here?"

Excitement swirled inside, hearing that she was happy to see you.

"I, uh, I got a job here as a library media assistant. I will be working in the media center, you know, checking out books and teaching computer programs."

"Really? That's great. You always loved the school library. I remember how you used to beg me to bring the class at least twice a week."

"Yeah, I'm really excited about it."

While you were trying to be present in the conversation, you really had a one-track mind.

"Who's the woman that was standing outside the door with you?" you asked.

You can tell Wanda hadn't been expecting your question by the way her eyes widened.

"Oh um that's Natasha, After you graduated I started teaching a co-taught english class and well she's the co-teacher." She paused before confirming the suspicion you had earlier.

"She's also my wife…"

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

Lemme know whatcha thinkkkk

@nebthetautora @esposadejoyhuerta @w4ndsversew0nder

@skz-xii

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monst · 2 months

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Hawks walking in on his naked sleeping s/o?

Back at it again with another part to:

What are Pyjamas?

18+ content? But just in case (MDI)

Takami Keigo!

Warnings: Voyeurism? Obligatory folds mentioned, Sorta spoliery? But not really what with AFO playing Pokemon and all that. Uh lastly, Keeping in line with the rest of this series, you're naked and asleep so… Let's go!

WC- 1k figured it should be a bit longer than the norm since it’s Hawks only

Few stars dotted the sky on his walk home. Light pollution to strong for him to see but the most ardent of stars. If he were flying, then maybe… but that was an entirely different case. God did he miss it. Shaking off the thoughts of what happened years ago he focuses on the nearly vacant streets.

He hadn’t meant to come home so late but his lecture took longer than expected, it didn’t help that he got caught up talking with Tsunagu. The older man had invited him for a drink and he ended up missing the last train home. He hoped you hadn’t waited for him but if you had, he did bring cake to make up for not texting you that he’d be home late.

But as he continued to walk he passed by an antique clock store. He let out a sigh when he noticed the time. “Yep,” he sighed. You were definitely asleep. Or at least he hoped you were sensible enough to be asleep by this time. He wondered how you occupied your time while he was gone. He hoped you spent it missing him.

He swung the bag that held your treat with a mindless smile as he recalled how he’d finally managed to ask his roommate out. He still couldn’t believe you liked him back. That you agreed to date him, low-key he was expecting you to be out the door quickly looking for another place. But no, now he got to kiss you when he got back to your shared apartment.

His eyes honed in on your building. “Finally” he grunted. Golden eyes searched for your floor, and as expected all the lights were off. As he got closer he noticed something that left a sour taste in his mouth. Your bedroom window was wide open. Granted you both were on the seventeenth floor but had he been able to fly he’d have an unobstructed entrance. ‘Very unsafe’

He scoffed, actually even without his quirk he could get into your room. And if he could do it who knows which villain with a grudge might try. Granted you wouldn’t believe him if he told you. You’d probably reply by telling him ‘Who would scale up here? Not possible.’ Now, if people were around he probably wouldn’t have gone through with it. Lies he still would.

Does it count as breaking and entering if the window’s open and it’s his apartment too? Scaling the apartment walls was a lot easier than he thought, even with the cake in hand. Meaning he was totally gonna use this as a point in his argument. Hell, even a random thief could come up here. Although a random thief was less likely to have hero training…

When his fingers reached the ledge of your window, he hauled himself in. Intent on not only scaring the daylight out of you but also showing you how dangerous it is to- “Holy shit” He breathed. His digits almost lost their grip on the sill. He swallowed thickly from his perch on the side of the building. Eyes wide as he took in your slumbering form. Your very nude slumbering form.

‘Why were you naked!?’ He felt his face burn, his fingers cramped up from how long he was ogling. But he couldn’t help it. The most the two of you had done was makeout on the couch, some grinding, light petting but he hadn’t seen you. And god did he like what he saw. You were so pretty, painted in the scarce light of the lamp posts. So soft and open. ‘fuck.’

He slowly crept into the room for a closer look. Breath catching when your arms moved across the sheets to expose your chest. His greedy eyes took in the way your cute nipples rose and fell with each exhale. He could already picture them between his fingers. His eyes then traveled down the length of your torso and he flushed crimson when he caught sight of your pretty folds.

His teeth caught his lower lip and his fingers twitched against the bag as he was overcome with the desperate need to touch, tease, and taste all of your exposed skin. He might’ve done so. But the blaring police sirens spooked him and startled you awake. You shriek at the sight of the shadow in your room. “Wait wait it’s me!” Keigo

“Kei”? You breathed out. Your pounding heart slowed as you realized it was just your boyfriend. You flicked on the light, your alert eyes catching his honey-hued gaze. It was then that you noticed a couple of things. Keigo’s face was splotchy red, red, and blue lights were flashing by your window and Keigo wasn’t looking at your face.

“You pervert!” You hissed, your face hot as you brought your thin sheets up to cover yourself. “Pervert!?” He repeated mortified. “I-It’s really not what it looks like!? And it’s not my fault why is your window wide open! A-and why are you naked?!” He rushed out.

“The AC broke down! It’s hot as fuck! And excuse me for being naked in my room!” You replied.

“Well, How was I supposed to know that?! And, What if I was someone else?!!” He exclaimed.

“We’re on the seventeenth floor! You're the only dumbass I know who’d- My eyes are up here birdbrain.”

“Sorry!” He yelped. Eyes shooting back up to you as you mean mugged him. He stood under your glare for a while, fingers playing with his wristbands. “D-do you want me to leave?”

“No shit! I’ve got to get dressed.” You huffed, your fingers massaging your forehead. You wrapped your sheets around yourself and tossed a pillow at him when he didn’t get moving.

He skedaddled. Slamming your door shut. He felt like a furnace as he leaned his head back against your door. A slow grin crawled up his face as he recalled how good you looked. And while he’d be in the dog house for a while, he was eager for another peek once he wasn’t. “Keigo!” He heard you shout. He quickly opened the door to peek inside only to meet your narrowed gaze, your foot covered in frosting. To make matters worse that was when the front door was pounded on.

“Police!”

Tsunagu was not gonna believe this one...

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #uh random bullshit go!#keigo x reader #hawks x reader smut #? is it tho?#Might extend this series to other fandoms I surprisingly have more ideas for this scenario lol

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glacierclear · 3 months

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Disorganized rambling lore dump for Eden (sorta for my own reference, for the purpose of categorizing thoughts!)

Exploring the concept of a werewolf who doesn't know they're a werewolf and lives in constant denial, despite all the warning signs.

D&D lore seems to revolve a lot around "rejecting" or "embracing" your lycanthropy and I thought it would be interesting to conceptualize a character that rejects it so thoroughly they don't even know they have it.

Eden Glee was the youngest sibling of a strong and resourceful family. They didn't have a lot. They lived within their means, and relied on one another. Eden was playful. Mischievous. Ventured too far, took miscalculated risks, and frequently caused trouble for their family. Eden was always an unlucky child.

They met the wolf alone one night. In an attempt to free the poor creature's leg from a trap, it attacked them, marring their face and inflicting them with lycanthropy. They managed to run home, crying and telling their family that a strange dog had bit them in the woods, unaware of its true nature.

On the night of their first transformation, their family was killed.

To them, they were the sole survivor of a vicious attack, not realizing they were the true culprit.

Wherever they went, death followed. They fled to towns. Villages. Remote settlements. Every month brought new corpses. Of course, they came to the most obvious conclusion.

With motivations unknown, the beast must have followed them, bonding on the night they had met.

So, Eden chose isolation. They ventured east, building a home for themselves in the deep forests of Cormanthor. They became self-sufficient. The further they were from people, the safer everyone would be.

Time lost structure. In the years spent hiding, months intermingled, and gaps in their cognition blurred. It no longer felt odd to lose days' worth of memories. That's just how the cycle worked when you lived alone. Surely, this is just that "cabin fever" people would talk about.

Every so often, they'd stumble upon new carnage. A desecrated animal corpse. A ripped up tree trunk. The remains of unfortunate wanderers passing through the woods. All reminders that the beast still lurked. It still followed.

And it was easy to take things as they came. To dismiss changes in their body as explainable phenomena.

Staring at the moon made them uncomfortable now. The light almost itched the blood beneath their skin. But they had always preferred the daytime, anyways. The only reason they were in this mess to begin with was because they were out past dark. It made sense to grow wary. Silver burned and stung their flesh. Mama's necklace had to be sealed away in a box. But their big brother once developed a strawberry allergy when they were young. It wasn't outside of the realm of possibility that this was a similar case. They had always preferred the look of bronze, anyways. Their family would grow wolfsbane. It made excellent poisons, and they'd pick the flowers to decorate their hair, even if it numbed their hands and tingled their scalp. But now, just the sight of it horrified them, triggering an almost guttural, vicious reaction. But...grief manifested in strange places. Perhaps the reminder was too painful, even after so long.

But, worse than anything else, they just missed the world. They missed friends and laughter and warm fires shared with those they loved. The weight they shouldered was heavy, but as long as the beast still lived, they would not risk another. God, they could not lose another.

They were beyond seeking answers. The best they could do was manage the circumstance. Ward away as many as they could. Keep people out.

Maybe there was no explanation. No reason for why this happened each and every month. That was just the nature of bad luck.

And throughout the years, that had never changed.

Eden was always an unlucky child.

#oc #eden #oc lore

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inkedells · 1 year

Note

reader accidentally calling “daddy” dbf!joel !! i wanna know how he reacts 😫 btw i love reading ur stories!! 🫶🏻

A/N: i've been wanting to write this for so long and this request gave me an excuse to sooooo here ya go!

m!dni | requests open.

tags/warnings: daddy kink (obvs), shy!reader, dbf!joel lovessss dirty talk, like srsly the filthiest dirty talk, grinding, sorta kinda some reeaaaally light humiliation vibes, p in v

masterlist

The first time you blurted it out, Joel thought he was hearing things.

It was early morning. With your legs twisted into his, you had maneuvered yourself so that you were straddling his thigh as you both lay on your sides. Joel just embraced you, petting your hair and cooing dirty things and sweet things alike as you worked your hips against the warm heat of his skin.

“Mm,” You moaned, gently kissing the column of Joel’s neck as his large hands grabbed your ass and guided the movement of your hips.

“C’mon, honey, use it. You’re not stopping ‘till my thigh’s soaked.”

Joel removed one of his hands from your backside in favor of stroking himself from beneath the cover of his boxers instead. The way he tented the fabric had you salivating, something primal taking over as you whispered, “Want it…”

Joel noticed the way your eyes were intensely trained on his crotch, and he immediately understood.

“What?” He pulled his cock from its confines, “You wanna fuck this instead?”

You bit your lip and nodded, completely aware of the blush rising to your cheeks.

“I’m not sure you want it bad enough, though,” Joel teased, and you knew immediately what this was about. He wanted to hear dirty, depraved things come out of your mouth. His favorite part about you being vocal was the way your arousal would make you stumble over your sentences and mumble just barely above a whisper as you whined between words.

Maybe it was the intoxication of his scent as you continued to grind against him eagerly, or the way he kept muttering, “I got you,” with every whimper that fell from your lips, but you were suddenly filled with an urge you didn’t know how to stave off.

It came out like a whisper. Something you could’ve easily shrugged off and insisted never happened.

“Daddy… Want it, please...”

The hands that were working your ass over before were now frozen.

You removed your face from the crook of Joel’s neck and looked up at him with hooded eyes as you continued grinding on his thigh.

Joel cracked a crooked smile. “It’s like that, huh?”

You blushed as you nodded hesitantly, hugging Joel tight as he untangled your legs from his own and rolled you onto your back, towering above you as he bracketed your hips with his knees.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna fuck you good and hard and deep, just how his baby needs.”

“Oh god, yes,” You moaned. Joel never took his eyes off you as he slipped off your panties and swiped a finger through your aching, wet folds.

“So fuckin’ wet. Anybody else get you like this?”

“No,” You whispered shakily, hands darting to grip Joel’s wrist as he worked against your pussy in tandem.

“Who? Who do you become a whining, wet, horny little mess for?”

“You, Daddy,” You whimpered, groaning at the loss when Joel pulled his hand away from your pussy in favor of taking his cock out of his boxers.

“Mm, that’s right. Baby’s gonna get fucked real messy now, that alright? Can Daddy stuff this cute little pussy to the brim with his cum?”

You hadn’t even responded yet when Joel suddenly pressed against your entrance with the tip of his cock and entered you in one smooth motion.

"Ruin it, Daddy."

masterlist

A/N: yeah yeah i know i'm pumping out fics like crazy but i just have a lot of motivation rn so keep the requests coming!! i love u all i'll try to get as many done as possible (before i inevitably crash and don't write anything for a week)

taglist (the rest will be in a reblog, if your name is crossed out i can't tag you):

@basicoccult @myhusband2cool @fleuraimer @chunguk @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucufifluclu @pintsizedsunshine @s1eepy-bear @daddysuperduperlonglegs @worhols @evyiione @criesside @saph-cyare

@gswizzsstuff @baloobalee @gessmiller05 @trynasurvivelol @yazsos @marchai @pompii @alyssa1216 @daddy-din @msmagix4 @blooming-bubs @huffle-punk @whorrorain @iliketoeatstrawberrypocky @onlineplant @totallynotastanacc @hiddenbabynyc @thedoctorofpoop @kamcrazy123 @afterglowsb-tch13

@redplaidedandcladed @simping-soldat @martyluvsu @mingiast @teddybonkers1960 @brittmb15 @ellswilliams

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ohbo-ohno · 11 months

Note

I’m feral and need more of your a/b/o thoughts. Like I need to know your thoughts on alpha!141 snatching omega reader to keep for themselves

yknow i was gonna say that i haven't touched abo in forever, but then i remembered the gaz thing i just posted the other day lmao

(btw i wrote alpha 141 here but i think abo poly 141 would have alphas price/ghost and betas soap/gaz. probably. maybe. idfk.)

cw for noncon and kidnapping below the cut

i find poly 141 x reader really difficult to write outside of porn, since there's already so many interesting dynamics in regular poly 141. i have a hard time adding in a FIFTH element, yk? especially when that fifth element has to be a reader insert instead of some sorta OC or smth

anyway, i think the best dark poly 141 x reader idea is basically reader being used as a sex toy for the guys. like, she's there for them to relieve their stress in. but in an abo au i could totally see them using her as an element of softness in their lives. with 4 alphas in one home, you need an omega to soften things up a bit

and there you are. soft and sweet and small (compared to them at least) and just so perfect. you're the unlucky bastard who happens to smell appealing to all of them, and you're whisked away before you really even know it

they'd have to be sneaky, probably. you'd have a positive reaction to their scents too, so maybe johnny or gaz gets you to go on a date with one or both of them and then kidnaps you. maybe price or ghost just grabs you one day. something like that, i think, but there's much higher angst potential is kyle and/or johnny lulls you into a false sense of security first (and you know i love a good betrayal)

they'd push and prod at your instincts to force you into a heat before anything else. lock you in their den (soon to be their nest) and surround you in their scents, make low purrs to convince your instincts that you're safe

and as terrified as you are - and oh boy, are you - there's only so much you can actually fight your instincts. lets say you're either not on heat blockers, or maybe the blockers are weak, but for whatever reason you're very susceptible to all of their little pushes

they've got you knotted and mated by the end of the week

it's odd, coming up from that heat. your neck aches all the way around, to the point that it's painful to even turn your head. despite the unfamiliar room, your brain screams at you that you're safe, that you're in your nest.

it doesn't take long to put together the pieces. it also doesn't take long to become very very upset

thing is, it's too late to do anything now. you can't break a bond, and they're not giving you any opportunities to get away. you're stuck with these alphas who have performed the greatest invasion possible on your body and soul. it's crushing

cue lots of attempted comfort. soap and gaz would be the softest with you, always trying to tempt you into realizing how good it is to be with them. soap is rougher when he fucks you, but they're both equally soft outside of that. they bring you nesting materials, constantly make sure you're covered in their scents, and bicker over who gets to cuddle you on the couch

ghost isn't willing to coddle you. he's sweet (in his own right) but he's not nice. he doesn't try to make you feel better - you're meant to be with them, why should he apologize for making it happen? all they did was skip the courting process, this is always where you were going to end up. he refuses to apologize for that. but he also doesn't want you miserable. he holds you close at night, soaks with you for long hours in the tub, and is always making sure you clear your plate

price is... weird. i'm never sure if i should make him the meanest or a softer kidnapper. because i could absolutely see a version of price whipping your ass raw every time you scream at them and call them names, but i can also see a version of price who just levels you with a disapproving stare and locks you in a small dark space when you get like that

regardless, they all smother you. you help balance out their dynamics a bit more, but they're always fighting each other for your attention. especially with the bond making it so they always know what you're feeling. and your instincts scream to trust them (and you can feel their emotions too, know that they really meant for the best, as sick and twisted as it is).

#abo au #poly 141 x reader #bo writes #asks and answers

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thefreakandthehair · 1 year

Text

not inspired by my fiance for once, but by a friend! this is the meme referenced. just a little funny sorta-crack future ficlet. enjoy!

"Steve... what the fuck is this?" Eddie doesn't even let Steve set his work bags down before he's shoving his phone in his face, the meme Steve sent him earlier glaring up at him.

“A meme? Was that not clear?" Steve smirks and drops his bags, his shoulder brushing Eddie's as he scoots past him.

One of his students had managed to work the class into such an uproar over that exact meme, shouting various band names and excitedly discussing their choices, that Steve had given up and joined them. It’s the end of the school year anyways, and even his administration understands that the last week of school is all about survival. That’s how he ended up with a photo of a Create Your Dream Concert Lineup For $100 meme, and that’s how Eddie ended up spiraling into an existential crisis about it.

“But the numbers don’t add up!” Eddie complains, following Steve into the kitchen with his phone still open, the offending screenshot still unchanged despite how many times he’s looked at it. “With the price of each band, I’d have to choose between Metallica, Ozzy, and Iron Maiden.”

Steve scoffs and shakes his head as he grabs a water bottle from the fridge, shutting it with his hip and leaning back against the counter. “That’s right. $100 budget, so one has to go.”

Eddie stares at him, insulted and slack-jawed at the suggestion. “That’s not possible. I’ll just steal from you to round out the cost.”

“No can do, Munson. I already spent mine.” He winks and sips his water, watching Eddie’s eyebrows furrow.

“The fuck you did, these are all metal and hard rock. I don’t see Springsteen anywhere on this list, and I’ve stared at it a lot.” He waves his phone for emphasis.

Steve has, in fact, chosen his line up, probed and prodded by his students last period. Some of the bands he recognizes from his decades of partnership with Eddie, others he’s come to know on his own or from students. So sure, he has a line up, and if he spent a bit too much time thinking about how to get Eddie worked up about it, well, that’s between him and his phone.

He holds up three fingers on the hand not covered in condensation and ticks them off one by one.

“Ozzy, $40”

Eddie gasps.

“Slayer, $20.”

“Steve, what—”

“Queen, $40.”

Eddie blinks once, twice, before he sets his phone down and closes the distance, holds Steve’s face with both hands on either side, and tugs him in for a ridiculous, dramatic kiss. Steve laughs against his lips and pulls back, letting go with a loud mwah.

“I have to say, Harrington,” Eddie starts, his hands still firmly in place. “Other than our wedding, and maybe that one pick up basketball game I went to, this is the hottest you’ve been.”

Steve can’t help but to preen a bit, proud that his plan has worked— that Eddie’s proud, that Eddie’s looking at him with that fond smile and warm eyes over something so silly after all of these years.

“Oh really?”

“Hell yeah, sweetheart. I mean, Ozzy? Queen? Slayer? Talk metal to me.”

Eddie tugs him closer, wrapping both arms tightly around Steve’s waist and pressing their lips together again, this time with more heat, more urgency. Steve lets himself sink into it for a moment or two before he breaks the kiss, his own lips red and shiny.

“Metallica.”

“Steve, you’re killing me.”

“Megadeath.”

“How do you—”

Steve grins and leans closer, whispering into his ear. “Pantera. But only if it’s before Dimebag’a death.”

Eddie laughs and pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth. “You little shit, all these years I thought you were tuning me out and here you are, weaponizing it against me.” If they were still just dating, still in those early stages of their relationship, he’d be embarrassed at the way his pants tighten. But it’s not, and he’s not. “Wanna?” He nods towards the stairs, the ones that lead to the privacy of thier bedroom.

“Oh, not yet. No.” Steve almost laughs at Eddie’s confused head tilt. “You’ve gotta make your line up first.”

Eddie steps back, his hand over his heart and mouth ajar. “You— oh, for fucks sake. Alright, give me a few minutes.”

Turns out, Eddie can choose between Metallica, Iron Maiden, and Ozzy pretty quickly when the stakes include sex with his husband.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #st ficlet #st fic #myblurbs #me and one of my friends have been talking about this meme for a solid week so here ya go

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supernaturalgirl20 · 2 years

Note

Hey! Your writing is stellar!

Could you possibly write about Joel and reader hating each others guts, but something like Joel almost dying brings the feelings out reader never realized. (Like angsty almost dying lol). she takes care of him and he sees how he does actually love her. It’s ends with them together. Vague i know haha.

Thank you!! xoxo

Thank you so much and I adored this request 🥰changed it up a little Hope you enjoy 😉

The Reason

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, soft love making, near fatal accident, mentions of death, hidden feelings, enemies to lovers (sorta), angst, cursing, fluff.

A/N: slowly getting back to writing this week so please bear with me on the requests. Didn't edit this so sorry for any mistakes.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Anger bubbled under the surface of your skin as you stood with your back against the door of the stables. The sound of his voice echoed through the air as he berated Tommy for asking you to join them.

Who does he think he is? You think to yourself as you listen to him criticise you to his brother. Joel Miller was a force to be reckoned with and he had zero tolerance for anyone in the Jackson community except for you. Or at least you’d thought so, now you weren’t so sure.

There was one night after a rough patrol where he’d shared a few drinks with you, and he’d opened up about his past. You had thought for a moment that maybe he liked you. Maybe you both could become friends or more, but now, you’re sure he hates you.

“Now why the hell did you go and ask her to come with us? You know darn well that I ain’t gonna be able to concentrate with her there. Damn it, Tommy, I ain’t gonna be able to keep them both safe.”

With clenched fists you turned the corner and stormed towards him, his eyes widening when he spots you. “Who the hell do you think you are, Miller? Huh? Telling Tommy you don’t want me to come. It doesn't matter what you want, I’m the most experienced shot this place has so I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Now I’m coming on this run whether you like it or not.” You huffed out a breath as you poked his chest with your finger, looking up at him with an angry expression on your face.

“So, saddle up, cowboy.” You push him back slightly before grabbing your horse and marching out of the stables, leaving both Miller brothers confused as they stared after you.

“About time you grew a pair Joel and told her the truth about how you feel. Save all this bickering. I mean it’s obvious as shit that you have feelings for her, so just man the fuck up.” Tommy says as he pats him on the back.

Ellie scoffs behind them drawing both of their attention to her. She looks up and shrugs her shoulders at them. “Gotta say I agree with Tommy on this one. Life would be a lot easier if you just told her. Hell, it’s so fucking obvious she feels the same and I swear you two are just like horny fucking teenagers.”

“Alright enough! First of all, language,” he snaps as he points a finger in Ellie’s direction. “Secondly, what is this anyhow? Gang up on Joel day?” His gaze drifts between the pair and they smile at each other before they shrug, and Tommy says his goodbyes.

“Alright, let’s get this shit show on the road,” Ellie teases as she winks at Joel and follows you outside.

Joel watches her leave, his hands resting on his hips as he closes his eyes briefly and takes in a deep breath. This was gonna be a long trip.

***

Things had gone to shit when you came across a group of raiders in a nearby abandoned town. They had wanted all of your supplies as well as you and Ellie but Joel was having none of it.

He’d become a different man in the blink of an eye. A violent one and you can’t say it didn’t turn you on. He’d killed them all or at least so you’d thought until one of them had snuck up behind him and tackled him to the ground.

They tussled for a moment before Joel straddled him and beat him to the ground. When he stood, he turned around to face you, his breathing ragged as he flexed his hands, his knuckles were bruised and bloody. His gaze drifted away from you towards Ellie who was busy collecting weapons.

You let your gaze drift down his torso, and you gasped at the sight of a knife protruding from his abdomen.

“Joel!” The sound of your worried voice catches his attention and his gaze flickers towards you. He follows your line of sight and groans when he sees the knife. His hand wraps around the hilt and pulls, blood spurting out from the wound, and he stumbles slightly as he throws the knife into the ground.

“Let’s go.” His voice is commanding, leaving no room for argument. “Ellie,” you shout, “we gotta go.” You tilt your head towards her horse and rush over to help Joel up onto your own, placing him at the front.

“Joel’s been hurt. We gotta find somewhere to lay low for a while.” You jump up behind Joel wrapping your arms around his waist as you grab the reins.

You travel at a slow pace. Trying hard not to jostle him around too much but he’s losing a lot of blood, and fast. His head droops to the side, then his whole-body leans to the right and you try to catch him but you can’t hold his weight so he falls off the horse.

“Ellie, stop!” you shout as you hop off the horse and check on him. He’s passed out. It almost appears as if he’s dead, but you run your fingers along his neck and check for a pulse.

It’s there.

Faint, but there and you let out a sigh of relief. Turning your gaze to Ellie you see the unshed tears in her eyes as she stares down at Joel. “He’s gonna be ok. I need you to help me lift him back onto the horse. Those houses over there,” you say with a tilt of your head.

“We’ll stop there for now. Try to close over his wound.” She nods at you before helping you lift him. It’s a struggle but you manage all the same and you take a hold of the reins as you guide the horse along the trail. A silent prayer recited in your head that he’d be ok, that he’d make it through this.

***

Joel is laying on the mattress you’d found as Ellie rips off a piece of cloth to hold over his wound. He groans loudly and you drop to your knees beside him pushing Ellie out of the way and putting pressure on his abdomen. He writhes in pain for a moment before he grabs your hand.

“Leave.” He rasps, his breathing becoming more laboured with each breath. You shake your head as you continue to put pressure on the wound.

“Leave. Go north…. Tommy,” his grip on your hand tightens and you finally meet his gaze. “No. I’m not leaving you. Don’t - don’t ask that of me…. I can’t.”

His skin is clammy and pale, and your heart feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t lose him. Not now.

“Ellie.” Your gaze drifts towards the teenager and she’s standing still, face full of worry as she stares down at Joel. “Ellie,” you shout, grabbing her attention.

“You need to go and look for medical supplies. Bandages, gauze, needle and thread, anything. Now, Ellie.”

She looks down at Joel one last time before she rushes up the stairs. He groans again, his eyes full of pain as he stares up at you shivering.

You pull his jacket up over him before cupping his cheek in your hand. “You’re gonna make it through this. I promise.”

You stand up and quickly move across the room to grab your bag, rifling through it until you find what you're looking for. Pills in hand you pull out a bottle of water and drop to your knees again.

Gently, you lift his head and place the tablets in his mouth before bringing the bottle of water to his lips. “Drink. These will help with the pain.”

He obeys with a groan, swallowing the pills before you rest his head back on the mattress. “I gotta clean this, Joel. I’m gonna…. I gotta clean the wound, ok?”

He nods his head, his body trembling as he shivers uncontrollably. You pop open the bottle of alcohol and take a deep breath before you remove the jacket and lift his shirt.

Your hand shakes slightly as you stare at his stomach for a moment - the wound bloody and bruised and jagged looking - before you snap out of it and pour the alcohol over it, causing him to hiss in pain.

“I know, I know…. I’m sorry.” You turn your head at the sound of Ellie’s footsteps coming down the stairs. “I found this,” she says as she hands you a needle and thread. Her eyes widen at the sight of his stomach, and you cradle her cheek in your hand.

“He’s gonna be ok. I promise you. Now I need you to hold him down because this is gonna hurt like hell.” She nods her head and rushes around to kneel beside Joel, placing her hands on his shoulders.

His eyes stare up at her and he gives her a faint smile before his gaze drifts to you again. You pull the thread through the needle and tie it off before sterilising it with the alcohol. You meet his gaze and nod before taking a deep breath and pushing the needle through his skin.

He groans loudly, reaching his hand up to grab at your arm. He turns his head away from you, shutting his eyes tightly as he tries to hold in his cries, Ellie pushing down on him to stop him from moving.

The needle falls to the floor once you’ve finished sewing him up and you sit back on the ground staring at your shaking hands. They were covered in blood. His blood and the fact that you could’ve lost him today stirs something inside you.

Feelings that you didn’t think you had. Not for him. Sure, you thought he was handsome, that he was a good father to Ellie, but he hated you. So, you hated him. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

It was all too much. These feelings, and the way he was looking up at you made your chest hurt. Standing, you rush up the stairs and out of the house, trying to take deep breaths.

“He is asking for you.” Ellie’s voice startles you and you whip your head around taking her in.

“I’m just gonna check the other houses for medicine. I’ll be back.” She takes a step forward but you shake your head. “I just need a minute, ok? Tell him I’ll be back.”

***

You’d taken your time, routing through the other abandoned houses trying to stall time as best as you could until you sort through your feelings.

It became clear around the fifth house that you had maybe always loved Joel Miller, you were just too stubborn to notice. It was also in that house you’d found some penicillin.

The creak of the stairs alerted Ellie to your presence, and she turned quickly, gun pointed in your direction. With a sigh of relief, she lowered it and stood, taking a glance at Joel before meeting you.

“He was worried about you. Tried to go after you but I wouldn’t let him. He’s asleep now but he keeps shaking and I think he has a slight fever.”

With a nod of your head, you brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. “There’s some canned food in the kitchen, you should head on up and get something to eat. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

“Ok, I’m starving. Want me to get you some?”

“I’m ok for now. Just don’t make too much noise. We don’t know if there are others in the area.” You let her go and turn your attention to Joel, who is laying in the same spot, shivering despite the heavy coat and blanket covering him.

You run your fingers through his hair, and he groans at the feeling of your touch. Pulling away you reach for the bottled water and grab one of the antibiotics before gently stirring him awake.

“Hmm,” he groans as his eyes slowly open, glossed over in pain as you smile softly down at him. “Hey, I’ve got some antibiotics. They should kill any infection even if they are out of date.”

Joel lifts his head enough for you to place the pill in his mouth and help him take a sip of water. Swallowing the pill, he drops back onto the mattress and looks up at you longingly.

“Was worried…thought somethin’…couldn’t live without you….” His hand reaches out towards you as he traces the soft curve of your face. The feel of his rough calloused fingers on your skin sets your heart racing.

“I’m ok. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me. I learned from the best,” you say with a laugh as you nervously meet his gaze.

“I’m gonna get us some food, I'll be right….” You start to say but he shakes his head.

“No. Stay. Please.” His eyes are wide as he begs you to stay, shuffling around on the mattress as he tries to make room for you.

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in question. He pats the space beside him indicating that he wants you to lay with him.

“What if I hurt you?” You ask as your eyes drift to his blood-stained shirt. “Won’t,” he breathes out as his eyes begin to droop closed. He’s still shivering slightly, and his skin still looks pale and clammy and you don’t have the heart to say no.

With a reluctant sigh, you remove your jacket and slip in beside him, making sure you’re both covered by the blankets. His arm is wrapped around you as you rest your head on his chest and the soft beating rhythm of his heart lulls you to sleep.

***

“No….no please not her….can’t lose her….no, no…” Joel muttered in his sleep as his head tossed around, his grip on your waist tightening.

He was having a nightmare.

Sitting up a little, you gently place your hand on his cheek, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into the rough surface of his face. “Joel,” you whisper, trying to wake him without startling him.

“Hey, Joel, it's ok. Wake up.” His eyes snap open and he panics until his gaze lands on you and his breathing slowly calms.

You gaze down at him with a soft smile on your face as you continue to rub his cheek. “You were having a nightmare. Are you ok?”

His eyes take in the features of your face as the moonlight shines through the small window of the basement. “M’fine. Thought I - thought I lost you ....” He trails off as he slowly realises what he’s saying.

His face has a little more colour to it and you swear you see the hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“I’m here. I’m fine. It was just a bad dream, probably induced by the fever,” you giggle as you place the back of your hand on his forehead. “Seems to have broken, finally.”

“I know you heard what I said to Tommy.” He says matter of factly. “I know you think that I hate you….”

“It’s fine, Joel. You don’t have to explain anything. That’s just life. You like some people, you hate others. It is what it is.” His eyes furrow as he looks up at you, a confused look taking over the features of his face.

“I don’t hate you. Never have. Don’t think I ever could. It's a bit hard to hate someone you’re in love with.”

“What?!” You stutter nervously, your eyes blinking rapidly as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“I love you darlin’. It’s the reason I didn’t want you to come on this run. I’m distracted when you’re out on patrol with me, I knew I’d be the same with this, it’s why I begged Tommy to reconsider letting you tag along. M’sorry if I ever made you feel like I hated you, 'cause I don't.”

You don’t know what to say. The words won’t form in your mind as you stare down at him in shock. He loves you. Your heart thrums loudly in your ears and you think for a moment that you’re gonna pass out.

“You alright, darlin?” The sound of his Texan drawl, soft and low, breaks you from your trance.

“Hmm? M’fine. I-I think I love you too.” His eyebrow quirks as a smile edges its way onto his face. “You think?” He teases.

You nudge him in the chest, and he groans, holding his side and you panic you’ve hurt his stitches. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry Joel. I completely forgot,” you rush out, voice panicked as you lift his shirt to check.

The sound of his laughter pulls your gaze up towards him. “Oh, for god's sake,” you huff as you turn and begin to push yourself off the mattress. His hand reaches out to grab your wrist, pulling you back into him.

“M’sorry, darlin’. Couldn’t resist.” His hand slips up along your curves and settles on your face, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes flicker briefly to your lips, and you unconsciously lick along your bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth.

“Will you two just kiss already? Jesus.” Ellie’s voice sounds from the top of the stairs. You both burst into laughter before he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

His lips are a little rough, the feel of them against your own causing a shiver to work its way down your spine. He still tastes of whiskey he had earlier, and you want nothing more than push him down and fuck him into the mattress but you don’t. Instead, you pull away and rest your head against his, calming your racing heart.

“We should get some rest,” you breathe raggedly as you blink down at him.

Nodding his head, he kisses you softly once more before laying back on the mattress and pulling you with him, wrapping you up in his arms. “G’night, darlin’.”

***

The gates open and Tommy comes rushing out with a worried expression on his face. “What the hell happened?” He asks, his gaze drifting from Joel to you as he waits for someone to tell him.

“Long story,” Joel answers as he looks over at Ellie, a silent communication happening between them. Tommy huffs in frustration. “You’ve been gone for days. We thought - we thought you’d been killed or worse. Fuck!”

Joel slowly hops off the horse and makes his way towards his brother, clapping his hand on his back. “We’re alright, Tommy. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about. We’re just tired. Gonna need some more sleep and a decent meal.”

Tommy nods his head, his eyes drifting to both you and Ellie. “Sure. How about you all head home and I’ll have Jason drop the food over.”

“That sounds amazin’ little brother. You’re just gonna have to have Jason drop Y/N’s food over to my place.”

Tommy's face freezes in shock before a sly smirk plays across his face. “Oh yeah. Somethin’ happen while you were out there?” He asks Joel, his voice almost a whisper so only he could hear.

“Gentlemen never kiss and tell, Tommy. You should know that.” He smacks him on the back hard, winking at him before he turns and grabs his horse. Tommy knew something had happened from the slight blush on your cheeks. He’d get it out of Joel eventually.

***

The room had been filled with silence as you all ate the dinner that Jason had brought over. The only sound to be heard was that of your forks and knives scraping off the plate.

God, you hadn’t realised how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nose. The loud growl of your stomach made Joel smile as he finished setting the table.

“Fuck that was good,” Ellie says as she sits back in the chair, hands resting on her now full stomach.

“Manners,” Joel chastises as he pushes his plate away from him.

“She’s not wrong though,” you say with a smile as you place your knife and fork on the plate and release a contented sigh. Joel hums in response as he lets his gaze wander over you both.

He never thought he’d have this again. A normal life. A steady home. A family. Now that he does have it, he’s not too keen on letting it go. With the clearing of his throat, he throws Ellie a look, his eyes shifting towards the front door, and it only takes her a second to realise what he’s saying.

“I’m gonna go meet up with Dina. Don’t wait up ya old fart.” She says with a laugh as she grabs her coat and slams the door behind her.

“So…I guess I’ll help clear up and then I’ll let you get some rest.” You stand, the chair scraping across the floor as you grab your plate and make your way into the kitchen.

You turn the tap on and begin to wash up when a set of arms wrap around you from behind. You startle. A soft gasp slips past your lips as Joel turns you slowly in his arms.

You gulp nervously as you stare up at those golden-brown orbs. Your heart beats frantically at the feel of his touch. “Was thinkin’ maybe you could stay the night. I’ll make you pancakes and coffee in the morning.”

His eyes are hopeful as he waits for you to say something. “Are you trying to seduce me, Miller?” You tease as your arms come to rest on his chest. Your fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“Is it workin’?” He says with a smile, his arms pulling you closer.

“Maybe. Might need you to kiss me though, to make sure.” A smile plays across his face as he leans in and kisses you softly. You tease his bottom lip with your tongue, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips as he grinds into you.

His cock hardens against you, and he groans when you run your hand down along his stomach and under the waistband of his jeans, cupping him with your hand.

“Fuck,” he breathes as he pulls away, forehead resting on yours. You run your fingers along the back of his neck and through his hair. “Need you,” you whisper into the shell of his ear, and he shivers.

“Jesus, darlin’. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grabs your hand from his trousers and leads you out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards his bedroom, where he kicks the door closed behind him as he walks you back towards his bed.

He’s hungry for you. His eyes were blown wide with lust and you’re sure he’d have ravaged you by now if it weren’t for the fact that he’s healing.

You pull him in for another kiss and let your hands glide over him as you begin to unbutton his shirt. Throwing it onto the floor before starting on his trousers.

His rough calloused fingertips glide along your skin as he helps you remove your clothes, your breath hitching as they slip between your slick folds.

You gasp. His mouth swallows the moan that follows as he kisses you softly. Pulling back his eyes trail over your naked form and when your gazes meet, you see nothing but adoration in those brown eyes you love so much.

“How do you - how do you want to do this?” You ask as his hands grab onto the soft flesh of your ass. “Better take it slow for now. Don’t wanna burst a stitch,” he says with a smile in his voice. “Lay on your side, darlin’.”

Doing as he says, you lay on your side, his warmth filling all your senses as he slips in behind you. You let out a breathy moan as his fingers delve into your heat once more, his hardened cock nestled snugly between your ass cheeks.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper as he works his thick digits in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly as he hits that spot that sends you spiralling.

Your skin is flushed. Sweat beads down along your breasts as he pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. A shiver skitters down your spine as he whispers into the shell of your ear.

“Ready for me darlin’?”

You nod, “yeah- yes, fuck I’m ready please,” you whine as he runs the tip of his cock teasingly along your slick. “Joel…”

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Need you inside - need you to fuck me, please.” With the head of his cock notched at your entrance he thrusts inside with a roll of his hips and you both let out a soft groan as he fills you.

“Jesus, darlin’. So damn tight…fuckin’ squeezing the life outa me.” He takes a moment, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath as he tries to control himself. His lips meet the skin of your neck as he peppers kisses along it, his hips moving slowly in tandem with his lips.

It’s soft and slow. His hands glide over your skin, pinching and pulling as you moan softly into the room. Your body shudders as you come, your clit already sensitive from earlier.

A soft cry slips past your lips as you reach behind to run your fingers into his hair. His hips stutter as he nears his release, the soft grunting in your ear becoming louder the closer he gets.

“Ngh…fuck,” he groans as he quickly frees himself from your walls, spilling himself over the soft pillowy flesh of your ass.

“Don’t move, darlin’.” He says as he slowly slips from the bed and grabs a piece of cloth to clean you with. He works it gently over your skin before throwing it into the basket at the end of his bed.

The cool air makes you shiver involuntarily but Joel is quick to hop back into bed, slipping beneath the covers and pulling you close.

“I love you, darlin’,” he whispers into the crook of your neck and you can’t help the smile that works its way onto your face.

“Hmm, I love you too.” He squeezes you gently before his breathing evens out and he falls asleep. It’s safe to say that Joel Miller definitely doesn’t hate you.

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan25 @hummelmia @angstismydrug

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller tlou au

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kiiwiigii · 1 year

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The Red-Eyed Boy pt. i

Pt. Two | Three | Outtake

Alec x Swan!Fem!Reader

Summary: When Edward goes to the Volturi seeking death he accidentally exposes Bella's sister. Not taking any chances Alec is sent to finish you.

Warnings:

I haven't written ff in forever soooo...

Also I have trouble with the whole Y/N thing.

Language

Kinda, sorta NSFW I guess? Lot's of kissing.

Word Count: 1,938

A/N: Alec is aged up.

Aro let his mouth twist into a cruel smirk. Apparently, the Swan girl was dead, a sad waste of possible talent he lamented silently, but what was done was done. Edward had had no intention of turning her anyway, so what did it matter?

However, there had been another problem that Edward hadn't meant to expose.

Her sister.

"NO!" Edward shouted. "No! No, she's not aware. She doesn't know-"

"Now, now Edward. We cannot take chances, you know this. The girl already has her suspicions."

Edward's face crumpled into a half snarl. Going to the Volturi for your own death was one thing, but not only had he been denied this sweet relief, he had sentenced another to death. Surely he could get them to understand that Y/N was completely in the dark. Sure she had suspicions but that was just it. Suspicions. And aside from a few shopping trips with Alice (in which Alice had to practically drag Y/N out of the house in an attempt to get to know her better) she had stayed relatively far away. What Bella should have done, he thought with a cringe.

"Alec." Aro called over his shoulder.

Alec was at his master's side in less than a second, staring blankly ahead and awaiting orders.

"You are to head the Swan household in Forks. Take care of Bella's sister."

"Of course Master."

Alec gave a bow before sharing a look with his own sister and heading out of the throne room; Edward's renewed attempt at talking Aro into sparing the other Swan girl's life fading away ever so slightly. He couldn't help but smirk. Fresh blood that didn't have to be delivered. A chance to hunt. Maybe he would play with his food before he finished her off. Make her run. Make her beg. Or perhaps... a different kind of begging. A begging brought on with kisses and meaningless words whispered in her ear. His smirk twisted into a smile. There were always different ways to play, right?

Dad,

I'm with Alice. Edward's in trouble. You can ground me when I get back. I know it's a bad time. So sorry. Love you so much.

Bella

"You gotta be fucking kidding me."

With a groan I let the letter slip from my fingers and back to its original place on the kitchen counter. I knew Bella was still healing, but never in my wildest dreams did I picture her dropping everything and just taking off for the boy who dumped her.

I paused, leaning against the counter with my head in my hands, wondering if I should just go ahead and call dad or wait to break the news to him when he got home. On the one hand if I called him now, it would distract him from his job... however if I didn't tell him now and he finds out I knew before he got home, I could possibly land myself in hot water and get grounded myself. And oh boy was Bella going to get grounded. Probably for the rest of the year if not her life.

She probably figured I'd find the letter first and would butter dad up anyways. Soften the blow that his eldest daughter went missing with a barely half-assed explanation. Well, she would be wrong about the latter at least. She'd be dealing with dad by herself on that one. As much as I loved her, I didn't want to be mixed up in her shenanigans.

Mind made up, I picked up my cell to make the dreaded call, and as expected dad picked up on the first ring.

"Uh, hey dad..."

I'm dreaming of him again. The boy with the red eyes.

He was standing in front of a familiar house, just watching. Waiting. I could see it in his eyes as they flicked back and forth. He was contemplating something, his head tilting just slightly as he took in the sloping roof and the off-white siding that was in severe need of cleaning. A truck and police car rested in its driveway, silent and empty.

My heart leapt. Why was he in front of my house? I'd dreamt of this boy plenty of times before, but never had he been in my own yard. Or anywhere I was even familiar with.

Instead, he was usually shrouded by a fine black mist. Sometimes, if I was lucky enough, he would simply be doing something rather mundane, like reading a book or walking in a garden. Other times my dreams would be rather violent, and I could hear the screaming of his victims as he ripped them to shreds. Then there was the girl that usually stood by his side. If the boy was violent, she was easily a hundred times worse. It was like watching a horror movie come to life and I couldn't close my eyes. I found that I didn't want to close my eyes. He was fascinating to me.

Or maybe it's because I'm a weird and sick individual.

He circled around to the back of the house now, his eyes trailing upwards until they landed on the second-floor window, a smirk beginning to curl on his lips.

My window.

I woke up with a gasp, clutching at my sheets.

What the fuck?

My imagination was finally getting away from me.

I couldn't help but look towards my window, still tightly shut and locked, only the soft glow of fairy lights winking back at me. Untangling myself from my sheets, I slipped from my bed and plodded over to the window. Nothing's out there, I thought. It's a stupid dream. They've all been stupid dreams. The red-eyed boy doesn't exist, Y/N. I unlocked the window and pushed it upwards before sticking my head out and looking around. Of course, I couldn't see worth shit but I squinted my eyes anyway, you know, just in case it would help me see better.

The yard was dark and empty. No handsome, red-eyed boys anywhere to be found.

I almost breathed a sigh of relief before a loud jingle broke through the silence, causing me to jump and slam my head into the window.

"Fuck." I hissed, cradling the spot that I could now feel a nice bruise forming.

It took me a moment to realize that the jingle was coming from my phone. Scrambling towards my dresser I managed to trip on the sheets I'd thrown off just minutes ago and go crashing to the floor. Tonight was just not my night. Despite my new entanglement, I reached up and managed to grab my phone, flipping it open without looking at the caller ID.

"Y/N? Y/N?" The voice on the other end was frantic.

Bella. I finally let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding, the tension easing from my shoulders for the first time in days.

"Who else would it be?"

Despite my irritation and anger from her stunt I couldn't help but crack a grin as relief flooded through me. She was safe. I could already feel the hysterical laughter bubbling up. But that was quickly quashed as a new voice spoke from behind me.

"You're just as clumsy as your dear sister."

I whirled around and promptly dropped the phone as my eyes took in the dark figure standing at my feet. He was beautiful. Sinfully so. Dressed in all black, his pale skin stood out all the more. Agonizingly perfect and flawless, with dark hair sweeping across his forehead. And his eyes. Oh those eyes. My dreams didn't do them justice. Didn't do any piece of him justice.

"You." I breathed; eyes wide.

He suddenly tensed as our eyes met.

"You." He repeated.

Before I could blink, he was right before me, a gloved hand cradling my face. My mind was going haywire, trying to comprehend just what was happening. What was this pull I was feeling? What is this warmth? Did he feel it too?

"Your eyes." I whispered.

He arched a brow in amusement. "What of them?"

"They're beautiful. Like- like rubies." I stuttered quietly, feeling myself flush. "Am- am I dreaming again?"

Now both brows shot up. He probably thought I was crazy. And at this point he would be right. The boy that I had literally been dreaming about since I was a child was right in front of me.

"Y/N!"

The faraway crackle of my phone pulled me back to reality and I slowly picked it up, watching the boy in front of me. He made no move to stop me, only brushing a cool thumb across my cheek.

Wait, when had he lost the glove?

"I- I'm here."

"Did you hear anything I said?"

It was Alice Cullen

"Er- no."

"Listen," Alice began hurriedly. "I know this a lot to take in, but Alec isn't going to hurt you. It's- mates are a complicated thing in the vampire world."

"I'm sorry, what now?" I blinked rapidly as I tried to process what she was saying.

There was a low growl before I felt the phone being taken from my hands gently. I would be lying if that growl hadn't sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

"Cullen. Given your talent I think you would know that Y/N is perfectly safe with me." He leaned in as he tilted my head back, his nose running along my neck. "She is my mate after all."

My breath hitched at not only his words but the little nips and licks he began to trail along my neck, cool against my flushed skin. Oh gods, this could not be legal.

"Please inform Aro that Bella's sister will be coming to stay with us soon."

With a click he snapped the phone shut and molded his lips mine. I was pretty sure that my heart was about to beat out of my chest. Finally, he let me come back up for air with a small nibble on my bottom lip and burying his face back into my neck, his hands running down my sides in a slow caress.

"So- so you're Alec?"

He let out an actual purr at the sound of his name. "Say it again."

"You know people usually introduce themselves before making out right?"

There was a growl in response, and I almost let out a moan. Oh fuck, please stop doing that. It was doing weird things to my body.

"Alec."

He lifted himself up to look at me again, eyes no longer that beautiful ruby red but nearly pitch black. He kissed me again and again, swiping his tongue along my lower lip before delving into my mouth with a hunger that shot heat straight between my legs. This time I moaned. He chuckled as he pulled away, placing light kisses along my jaw until he reached my ear and nibbling yet again. Lord did this boy like to nibble.

"I will be back, mio cara."

Suddenly he disappeared just as my door opened and my dad stood there looking rather alarmed. I just blinked at him in a daze.

"I heard voices." He grumbled, looking for all the world like he had just rolled out of bed... which he had.

I felt my face heat back up, trying to figure out exactly what he had heard and trying to come up with an excuse.

"Uhm. I heard from Bella!"

For once my sister saved the day.

{Masterlist}

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#alec volturi x reader #alec volturi #volturi #twilight #fanfiction #reader insert #x reader

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livesworthlivingau · 2 months

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Lives Worth Living Chapter 25

Isat/Two Hats spoilers below! CW: Light pining I guess? I'm sorry it's not heavier pining 😔

(You sit awkwardly in the common area with Nille and Vale, having asked for some privacy today to have a conversation alone with them. The other's all left to take care of some errands or personal activities they'd like to get done, Bonnie sticking around in the kitchen to prepare snacks for the next leg of our journey.)

"So... you already know about the loops and all, huh?" (You finally break the awkward silence with your mostly recovered voice, glancing over at Nille. She responds with a comforting yet bittersweet smile.)

"Yeah... Vale told me about their time in them, and in turn yours." (She explains, reaching out to place her hand on their fidgeting ones. Their tension seeming to fade away just a little.)

"So you know we've uhh... kinda already met then?"

"What?... What do the loops have to do with us meeting?"

"I may have forgotten to mention that part, Stardust." (Vale finally chimes in with a nervous chuckle.)

"Oh... Well... I'm kinda, still in the loops sorta?..."

"What's that mean exactly?" (She asks with a cautious tone, recognizing that it's a touchy subject. You let out a sigh, deciding to rip the bandage off.)

"... In 30 years, Odile dies of old age... I was there for it, and when it happened I... I got yanked all the way back here, the day after we beat the king..." (Her expression looks horrified for a moment, just staring in shock as she processes it all. You give her all the time she needs, looking away. You hate how that stare feels, but you can't blame anyone for doing it.)

(You perk up as you notice her moving out of the corner of your eye, before you know it her strong arms are tightly wrapped around you again. You slowly raise yours to place onto her back.)

"Sorry, I just... Wow... How are you holding up?" (She says as she releases the hug slowly, realizing she may have overstepped a bit.)

"N-No! It's fine!... Your hugs were always really nice." (You say with a little chuckle, it's so weird to tell a 'stranger' things like this.)

"It helps a lot having everyone for support... and having Vale back." (You admit giving a little smile before glancing over at them. They don't allow themself to meet your gaze...)

"Back? Wait, I'm lost now." (She asks, glancing between the both of us before Vale starts to explain.)

"After the loops, my job was done... I didn't need to exist anymore... So I simply ceased to be. I guess once the loops began again, I was plopped right back down... 30 years missed and it was merely a blink of an eye for me." (You all sit in an awkward silence yet again, unsure how to continue from there at first. Nille finally decides to break it.)

"Alright, well what's our next step then?"

"Uhh... Next step?"

"Well yeah, we gotta end your wish, right? So what next?"

"Oh... I hadn't really thought about that yet." (You blink, realizing this was so far from the top of your list you kinda just forgot all about it.)

"Maybe we could ask Jinn for help!" (She says, turning back to Vale, who immediately tenses up at the name.)

"Jinn?"

"Yeah! We met-"

"I think it may be best of we don't go spouting that information about freely!" (They interrupt, clearly unsure about the topic.)

"Oh come on, what's the harm in it? Besides don't you kinda wanna brag about it~?" (She asks with a grin and chuckle. They simply sigh and sit back in their seat, arms crossed, nodding begrudgingly for her to continue. She turns back to you, beaming excitedly.)

"We met the universe!"

"... Y-... You what?..."

"Yeah! It was just some traveler basically, but it knew things it couldn't possibly know otherwise! It was kinda spacey and weird, but what can you expect from a god really?" (You take a second to process all of this, chuckling a bit in disbelief finally.)

"I'm surprised Vale didn't try and take a swing at it."

"Oh trust me, the temptation was surely there... until it apologized for everything."

"It... It apologized?"

"Yes, we had a lovely chat actually. It's been just as affected by the island nonsense as any of us have been. That's why the wishes have gone so haywire."

"So it really was just... an accident?"

"More or less..."

"Heh... Well I guess that makes us even now!" (You joke playfully, the other two looking at you in confusion.)

"I met the Change God during the loops, remember?" (You ask, looking to Vale. They then let out an annoyed chuckle as it hits them.)

"Right, I think I tried my best to forget that little detail."

"Change, y'all have really had some wild lives, huh?" (Nille trails off, shaking her head some with her arms crossed. This was all really insane to say out loud now that you think about it. Everything's been so crazy that it almost feels normal at this point.)

(You continue chatting, filling each other in on what's happened. A few topics are avoided, mostly the future as to not mess with it too much, the topic of your nightmare feels oddly tense to Vale, and neither of you can dare bring up the topic of how you last looped...)

(Vale gives a yawn and leans back on the couch, rubbing at their good eye.)

"Didn't sleep well?" (You ask, though you're sure you know why.)

"No, not especially..." (They respond before Nille playfully nudges them.)

"Hey, you're doing great Vay. I'm glad you stuck around." (She remarks with a proud, bright smile. They look away but smile the tiniest bit in response. Before long they've wound up passing out, their head lazily drifting to rest on Nille's shoulder, which she allows happily.)

(You smile, happy to see them looking so relaxed for once... You can't help but pry a little, looking back to Nille and asking.)

"You really care about them, don't you?" (She perks up, realizing she'd been staring at them as well.)

"... Yeah, I really do. Poor thing's been through so much, and they're such a kind soul deep down. I just want them to see that too, y'know?" (She starts to explain, laying her head against theirs after a moment.)

"Heh... I commend your efforts so far, you've made a lot more progress than I ever could."

"Thanks. It helps I've had to beat myself up plenty about getting in my own head, learned the signs to spot I guess?" (She explains, giving a tired sigh herself.)

"It might be weird to hear but... Thank you. You helped me out a lot too... I don't think I'd be handling all this as well as I have been if not for all the times you've helped me..."

"As an expert on time loop shenanigans, I can confirm you're allowed to, yes~." (You both laugh at that, trying to keep it down as to not wake Vale.)

"Hah, man this time loop stuff is so crabbing wild. Am I allowed to accept thanks for something I haven't done yet?" (She asks with a chuckle.)

"Thanks again for taking care of Bon, I'm glad they were in such good hands."

"I can only take so much credit for all that, but I'm glad I could help with it~."

"SNACK TIIIIIIIME!" (Bonbon shouts from the kitchen, marching in with a big tray of various treats prepared, grinning proudly as they display it for you all.)

#lwlau #lives worth living au #isat au #isat spoilers #isat fanfic #isat #in stars and time fanfic #two hat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #isat two hats

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spaceumbredoggos · 7 months

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There has been a criminal absence of recent Yandere Bill Cipher x Reader headcanons, so I made some. Also, the tumblr folks eat this shit up. It’s hilarious. No one cares about my Kenz fic that I pour my heart and soul into, but when it comes to Yandere Bill, you thirst for the man. I am currently only taking headcanon requests (will elaborate later) because art takes forever to make.

All these HC’s also apply to Bill’s Relationship with my self insert OC. Just if they didn’t exist, like tumblr thinks they don’t. Please give So Much for Stardust the love it deserves. I’ll appreciate it.

Bill is very touchy feely to a criminal degree. (That’s as far as I’m gonna go because I don’t wanna have to put a content warning, and I don’t wanna come across as triggering. In my mind, it’s in line with Bill’s character to be that free candy van uncle.)

Does Bill possess Y/N? Does grass grow? Does a bear shit in the woods? That’s one of his favorite things to do. And he’s really good at covering his tracks. You bet your ass Y/N will wake up fucking wounded and sore from frequent possessions.

If Y/N dies, which would be pretty rare given Bill’s obsession, they’re gonna end up as a sinner in hell with their soul owned by Bill. Bill is higher than god himself on the hierarchy of my headcanoned Hellaverse if he did exist (which would be fucking hilarious, but given how much I hate Vivzie for various reasons, I doubt Hirsch would accept a collab since Vivzie has a heinous track record. My recent hyperfixation of the Hellaverse is clearly showing.) Bill would act almost like an overlord this way, and it’ll be sorta like a Val and Angel Dust relationship that’s written better. (I’m skirting around the most taboo parts of this to avoid triggering people including myself.)

Odds are, Y/N wouldn’t die. Bill has plans for them after all. So good luck avoiding his agenda of building a portal. Also, he’ll probably leave Alex Hirsch alone a lot, which may or may not lead to a drought in his Gravity Falls content. Bill’s likely to start a cult at this point to hunt Y/N down, specifically out of all those down bad fankids who’d let him do unspeakable things to them.

Bill will resort to all sorts of psychological torture. Maybe even projecting himself into your video games and other media that you delve into, with various alternate versions of himself (I’m glaring at you, Volo from Pokemon Legends Arceus.)

With every single fandom you hold dear tainted (and he’s gonna do a lot of unspeakable things to fandoms), you will be molded into serving him. If his interpretation from character AI taught me anything (which I no longer support) it’s that he needs total obedience from a slave and would stop at nothing to have that.

Good luck going off the grid to avoid him, because that’s when shit gets 100 times worse. With no contact with those you care about, he’d start driving you crazy. And if you managed the injuries he did to your body when he possessed it successfully, you won’t be able to manage any further injury that happens from your eventual insanity.

Bill has a blood kink times 11. He’ll do anything to make you bleed, but not bleed out. Blood and pain is what he feeds on.

He’s going to be speaking in Y/N’s head all the fucking time. He’ll be mixing his voice directly into Y/N’s own thoughts, taking over their entire fantasies, and quite possibly drive them to the point of dissociating in a psych ward for any sort of relief if they don’t build a portal for him to cross over.

This isn’t a scenario where Y/N is blind to all the red flags, and if it were, there’d still be nothing they could really do. Y/N is powerless, riddled with fear, and trying to flee and fight at any turn. Bill truly has them trapped from the moment he laid his possessive eye on them.

#gravity falls #bill cipher #bill cipher x reader #bill cipher x y/n #yandere

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threepandas · 3 months

Text

Always Listening: Yandere Present Mic

[Tracked down uncropped version! Art by @moromi100] ‐-----‐---------------------------------------------------------‐------------------------------------------------------------

It starts and you didn't notice. Almost no one in Japan did. Outside of the smartest sentient being on Japanese soil and the living cat-loving cryptid of the underground? No one was intelligent enough, observant enough, and CLOSE enough, to see the surprisingly subtle... hitch in behaviors.

Like a stumbled step. A fumble. The tiniest little twitch that gives away the lie.

It smoothed out immediately, of course, that next step graceful. The smile just as cheerful as ever. Only two sets of eyes SAW. Noted. And considered. What to do, what to do? Do they care enough to interfere? Is this interesting? Will it make one of THEIR'S happy?

It would.

So they did nothing. They could have. Should have. They are supposed to be Heros. And yet...

It starts and you don't notice. It builds and you are blind. But one day? As you jam along to your favorite radio station? It occurs to you. 'Huh, they're playing a lot more of my favorite artists then they used too'. You can't really think of WHY they would do that... maybe they're finally breaking into the big times? Getting their big break?

Good for them!

You go back to jamming out. Wishing you could sing along. But you can't, not in a crowded apartment block. Heck not ANYWHERE outside of a properly sound insulated dwelling. You know better. You've HAD to know better. Got the scars on your face, ears, and neck to prove it.

Fucking muzzles.

A voice Quirk holders common horror story. You'd think of they were so damn common, they'd at least put more work into making them HUMANE. But, no! Obviously our fault for not shutting up fast enough! Or WORSE! Gasp! Possessing voices in the FIRST PLACE!

Oh how DARE we want to TALK! Such a TERRIBLE crime!

You don't really talk to like... half your relatives thanks to that. Jerks. And, yeah, granted, "Talk" is stretching it. YOU could talk until you're blue in the face. THEY wouldn't be able to hear you. Would probably get really sick though. Possibly have a nervous breakdown.

You talk in infrasound, which can cause feelings of fear or awe in folks. You know, that "horror movie" or "something Supernatural is happening" feeling. You could and HAVE made serious BANK just sitting in the back of a high end horror house, reading vaguely spooky sentences into the speakers.

People fainted. Had panic attacks. There was a late blooming Quirk activation, cause some kid legit thought he was going to DIE.

You'd run out of script and were going through take out menus at that point.

Point is? People can't HEAR you. Outside of like a handful of folks with REALLY strong hearing quirks. And your voice is LOW. Not cute at ALL. You kinda hate it. Cause, like? You LOVE to hum. Sing. Be silly. Fun, normal, LOUD, everyday stuff! And you CAN'T. Cause you'll freak people out! Hurt them!

You really kinda hate it, you know?

And your last landlord was getting progressively more shitty about your Quirk. Accusing you of using it when you WEREN'T. Based off the "vibez" and how "creepy" his shitty apartment was at night. Like? Maybe if you CLEANED THE PLACE UP?! It's creepy because it LOOKS like somebody's gonna get stabbed!

But that's the sorta shit that gets innocent people arrested. So no dice! You're OUT.

New place is nicer anyway.

And? When you move in? Cute blonde with a cuter butt. Nice~ You are looking respeeeeectfullyyyy~☆ ooh! Strong blonde! Muscles! NICE. You have a FANTASTIC day. He's chatty! Knows sign! Great laugh! Meet cute with hot new neighbor, maybe? You don't want to get ahead of yourself.

And... and when reachs past you for one of the boxes?

Oh.

The makeup hides it pretty well. But you do the same thing. Scars in the same places. Voice Quirk, huh? No wonder he sounds so nice. It'll be good, you think. To have a neighbor that GETS it.

You stop trying to hide the scarring you forgot to cover up that morning. Get on with it. You notice HIM notice. That's right~ Same hat! You both grin.

But then you slip on the stairs. Thank FUCK new neighbor's just behind you, to catch you befor you fall too far. But of course... you cry out. A yelp, a curse, a babbled apology. Forgetting once again... he can't hear you. That your probably making everything feel like a horror movie.

But... but he DOES.

His jaw's on the floor. Head cocked like a puppy trying to find the source of a new noise. Eyes wide and AMAZED. He asks if that... that "beautiful sound" is you. Your face immediately feels like it's on fire. Oh dear God, he can HEAR you?! You don't know if that's amazing or terrifying. It's... it's been so long!

You had been forced to explain WHY you couldn't, you know, TALK to him in the stairwell. He'd looked so disappointed. It was amazing and too much. You didn't know how to handle it. Or if you WANTED too. But... you think you kinda do?

You and Hizashi, the cute neighbor, kept crossing paths. He's a Teacher and part time DJ. You think. Not the teacher thing, the DJ thing. You KNOW he teaches. He comes over sometimes, to grade English papers and get reminders he can write "you suck. So, so badly. Did you even TRY?" On a child's paper.

They are kids, Hizashi. Remember~ We once, too, were dumbasses~

And you know? It's not just him. Sometimes he brings his tired friend. The one that looks like a cat on a leash. Boneless and miffed to be dragged around when he could be sleeping. You give him you couch. Bought him a kitty patterned blanket and sound canceling head phones.

You're pretty sure you're the favorite right now. Bribery for the win!

Shouta finds your favorite station "Hands Up Radio" amusing. There is definitely a joke you're not getting. You let it go and get back to your hobby. Composing. Granted, no one's ever gonna be able to HEAR it. But you want to make an album. All in infrasound.

Something BEAUTIFUL.

Your mark on the world, you know? Hizashi had even offered up his friends recording studio. Seemed REALLY into. It's been nice, having such a supportive friend. He helps make the food, picks up both your mail, grabs like half the groceries from stores on the way back from his "gig". Other stuff you both get delivered. It's pretty convenient! He even showed you the app.

You kinda hadn't realized? How lonely life was. Back when it was just you.

Then Hizashi rocked up and inserted himself into your life. Brought all his friends. Noise and life and jokes. Fun. Your gut keeps telling you you're MISSING something. That this is too good to be true. A trap. But... but why CAN'T it be true?

The happy sitcom life. No nasty hidden secrets. No suspicious evils in the dark. Just... just a Genuinely Good thing happening for once? Something NICE. A meet cute with a cute guy, that turns into a friendship, that might turn into something more?

And if the voice on the radio sounds really familar? No it doesn't. If Shouta's eyes track and track and TRACK, like a hunter's? Man has an eye Quirk, probably normal. And so WHAT if Hizashi sometimes gets... gets LOOKS in his eyes? Tilts his head at just the wrong angle? And something in your gut KNOWS.

No it doesn't.

It's just anxiety. Hizashi is your FRIEND, damn it! You refuse, refuse, REFUSE! Everything is FINE. It has to be fine! GETS to be fine! You get to have friends and singing and takeout with people who CARE about you! A LIFE! And if Hizashi is a little weird? Then he gets to be weird! You don't see ANYTHING.

You let the radio play. Another song comes on.

It's another favorite of yours.

A coincidence.

You continue listening.

#threepandas #yandere #yandere bnha #yandere mha #Always Listening au #yandere present mic #yandere precent mic #yandere Hizashi #present mic #present mic x reader #present mic x oc #infrasound quirk reader #he thinks your voice is BEAUTIFUL #willfully blind reader

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ghostaholics · 2 years

Text

ᴍɪsᴄᴏɴᴅᴜᴄᴛ

SUMMARY: Ghost doesn't tolerate bad behavior. PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!Reader (drabble) WARNING(S): illicit relationship & power imbalance; dom/sub vibes (brattiness); this is not that fleshed out but I think their background is enemies-to-lovers; fingering; ruined orgasm, but he makes it all better, sorta; oral sex (receiving) A/N: this is OOC but I still wrote it anyway because my mind would just not shut the fuck up W/C: 2.1k

HE HOLDS YOU THE SAME WAY HE HOLDS HIS GUN – with all the confidence that he can take you apart and put you back together again like it’s muscle memory.

It's not pride. It's just fact.

He wants to know the inner-workings of your brain. He wants to know what makes you tick. Hell, all he wants to know is what it's like to be inside of you.

He’s still wearing his clothes – jacket, trousers, and boots – everything down to the signature gloves and the fabric balaclava that masks his face.

You, in turn, have nothing. It’s a very unfair playing field – one that you hope to level soon. But Ghost has always been mountains above you even before the current circumstances; you've never turned down a challenge, though.

"Maybe..." he says, musingly as he stands at the foot of his bed, "I won't let you come."

It's a taunt, one that you happily indulge.

You wet your lips in anticipation. You're excited – hungry for it. Back and forth. Pressing his buttons, and in return, learning your place under his direction. A provocation to take up with the same kind of resolve you'd had when the rules said that you couldn't do it because he's your superior, your Lieutenant – it swells inside you, profuse – fills you up to the brim.

(Illicit. A violation of boundaries. Conflict of interest.)

But look at where you are now. You’ve managed to fucking do it.

It's so overwhelming that you can't possibly stop the next words that you fire back, like loaded bullets, full metal jackets shooting off at the mouth: "Maybe you just can't make me."

Ghost seizes you by the throat – hand so big it engulfs your lower jaw too; sick with power, the thought infects him like an all-consuming disease: he could crush your windpipe if he wanted to. It’d be so easy. Apply pressure. But only enough to provoke a sharp intake of breath. (You can take it.) "God, the fuckin' mouth on you," he growls.

Your voice, breathless under the force of his hand and far too flirtatious for your own good: "I can show you what else it can do." A shameless smile stretches over your mouth as if he doesn't have a noose around your neck – a palm instead of rope but equally as unforgiving.

His eyes burn holes into you. They smolder. And his temper? He's fuming. Underneath the surface, but raging all the same, make no mistake. There are a lot of things he’d like to do to you that would wipe the grin clean off your face and scrub the insubordination from your brain. "Think I’d rather take an apology, first."

"Oh," you lament around a pout. "You'll be waiting a long time before you hear one out of me."

The answer is an act of arson; it reeks of gasoline. Octane. It’s a fuel that you douse onto ever-growing flames. Scorched earth policy, like you want to sit back and watch the world go up in smoke, embers and all.

"Trust me,” he says, shucking his gloves off –doesn't want to get them dirty with your recklessness. (At least he can wash this sin from his hands later.) “You’ll feel sorry by the time I’m through with you.”

So how far can you push him? Turns out, a lot. More than you’d anticipated, actually, because earlier:

“Don’t test me.” “Why?” “You won’t want to find out.” “I think I do.”

His fingers brutally stuff your cunt, and your walls eagerly accommodate the stretch around the width of him. An uninhibited moan wretches itself from your throat at the intrusion. You clamp onto his arm instinctively for purchase. He's got you filled to capacity.

"You're so tight," he murmurs, feeling around for a bit, searching for – there it is. He hits that little spongy spot inside, and he knows he's got you. His digits slide through your hot core in that come-hither motion, and he's enticed by the way your body convulses at his discovery. He's addicted to the sensation, already knows he'll never be able to find anything else that gives him a high as good as this – that he'll never be able to quit you. Perfect, so perfect. The craving is bad, like he's been stabbed full of needles and shot up with something that he knows will have him hooked forever.

You rut down, hips canting as you fuck yourself down on his fingers, meeting him thrust-for-thrust because you're just that needy for it.

He collects every moan like it’s payment, and after the defiance you've been throwing his way, it's the least that you owe him.

And—

He doesn't need to do it – you're already soaked. But he fucking spits on your pussy anyway. Yeah, that’s good. So bloody fucking good. He watches it mix with your arousal. Slickness, everywhere. It leaks out of your puffy folds, juices running down to the juncture of his wrist where his tattoos start – floods the gaps in between the ink of his sleeve. He's aching for more.

Filthy. Filthy. Filthy.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch the sight. It's lewd. You nearly collapse on the spot.

But still, you capture his wrist, nails sinking into his flesh as he continues to pump in and out of your sopping cunt. You’re so wet, it’s almost embarrassing. You don’t want him to stop. You have to keep him there forever. "I'm close," you croak out. "I'm—"

"Gonna come now?"

A familiar wave of heat starts to crest within you. "God, yes." It surges, rises hard and rises fast. The feeling is blinding.

"That's it," he says around a low rumble of approval. "Give it to me."

It's the final tipping point to send you over the edge – no return. Euphoria is within sights. You're flying to a climax and it's right there, so close you can almost touch it and—

He snatches his fingers away.

You come around nothing.

You're yanked back into a cold and disappointing reality. It's disorienting. The heat fizzles out so fast it’s like a bonfire during a downpour.

That ecstasy that had been building up passes through you like a phantom. It's just gone. Goddamn it.

"No, no, no! Fuck, Ghost! What the fuck?"

You didn't finish. You didn't get to the end, because he took it from you and snuffed the life out of it with no remorse.

It's what he does best.

You're drowning in your own bitter rage, reeling between riptides of ire and violence. The feeling is highwater. You want to commit atrocities against this man.

He draws his fingers into his mouth, mask pulled up for a fraction before he sucks, eyes lazily flicking over to you – you’re the picture of red-hot anger and burning insolence. Deep satisfaction settles in his bones. He lowers the balaclava back to where it was. "You taste sweet," he comments, almost absentmindedly. "Shame the personality doesn't match."

You're seething, a temper bristling with unfathomable resentment. "You're so fucking mean."

"Hate me all you want, love. We both know whose cock you get wet for at the end of the day. You wouldn't be here otherwise."

He calls you the term of endearment as if he cares. You aren't stupid. That’s not what this is. His tone is laced with derision.

"Unbelievable," you mutter. "I'm gonna have you court-martialed for being such an asshole."

He chuckles darkly. "Let's try this again."

The first day he met you: Your file, in big bold letters with an extensive skillset, and one section that stood out to him: INTERROGATION. Everything redacted. "How good are you?"– he'd asked. "That's classified, sir. But all you really need to be worried about is that I know how to make people talk." Smartass.

"I wanna... oh, God. Let me come. I want it, need it," you moan. He's been continuing his onslaught for too long, and you can't handle it.

"Where'd all the attitude go, huh, love?"

The whimper is high in your throat. "Please."

"The begging's a nice touch. Unfortunately, it won't save you now. I’m already fresh out of fucks.”

“Simon—”

He wouldn’t call you a whore, but that’s exactly what you sound like.

Your composure snaps.

"I'm sorry," you gasp, wrecked.

Finally.

His voice is devastating – a sawtoothed-edge that threatens to tear you apart. "Done playing games?"

It sends cracks throughout your fortitude – fractures spidering along your backbone. It’s a thousand splintered fragments.

Something in you shatters. It feels a lot like your self-respect.

“Yes, sir.”

This is rock bottom, a callous reminder of where the two of you stand. You despise using his title now more than you do out on the field.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “thought so.”

He kneels in between your legs, has your thighs wrenched open between the sheer size of his bulky shoulders. Simon lifts the edge of his mask up to settle onto the bridge of his nose, just to expose the bottom half of his face – sharp contour, a determined set to his stubbled jaw. It’s not all of him, but it’s enough. Simon’s mouth is on you in no time flat. It's not something he'll admit, but he’s starving for this. Ravenous – a carnal appetite. He wants his fill. Lust gnaws at his gut; it bites away at his resolve.

"Tastes so good," he grunts, sending vibrations rocking through you. His tongue laves over your clit, your entrance, lapping it up, taking what he wants. "Anyone ever tell you how much of a brat you are?" he asks, voice like gravel.

"Christ, shut up," you mumble pathetically.

Simon sinks his teeth into the side of your thigh to show his displeasure before turning his attention back to the task at hand. He's amused at the way you curse at him for being a bastard. More passes at your clit that make you tremor under him – he could get drunk off of this. It sends a nice buzz to his head better than his favorite whiskey.

His tongue is wet and soft, dipping between your engorged folds and making the nastiest noises. He's licking his way into your cunt. "Fuck." Again and again, using his mouth to rip those pretty sounds from you – the moans and everything, he'll drink it all up.

He adds his fingers back to the foray, knuckle deep. A high-pitched whine leaves you, cresting into another low moan as you adjust around the familiar feeling of the heavy and thick drag of his fingers through you; it almost makes him come, untouched.

"Ah, Simon," you whimper.

He lifts his head, chin drenched. There's a glossy sheen to his lips. Thoroughly wet. So much. You can feel it pooling under your ass, too. The sheets are saturated. That's all you. "I'll let you come this time," he rasps, sounding just as bad as you.

And at that, you don't care. Nothing else matters anymore.

You chase the high, white-hot pleasure mounting to a fever pitch. It strikes somewhere deep inside you. Blinding ecstasy swallows you whole. It’s cataclysmic. Bliss surges through your veins. “Oh, fuck me,” you choke out, arching off the bed. Your body's wracked with spasms. It's the hardest you've ever come in your life, and you hate that he's the reason for it.

Beginning and end — everything in between, and all at once — he's there. Simon continues, even after you ride out the rest of the orgasm, working you through the entirety of it – a mercy that he grants you for your earlier penitence until you're spent and oversensitive. It's charity. He's just that generous.

"Fuckin'... just drippin' all over my fingers," he growls, "can't wait to see what kind of a mess you make on my cock. I'm gonna ruin you."

"Yeah?" you say, in between shuddering breaths.

"Mm."

You've gotten what you wanted from him already, so a vain attempt to save face: "Do your worst."

The switch is instant. His eyes flash to yours in warning. "How many times am I gonna have to prove you wrong today?"

That same smile again, the one that spells trouble – it's what started this in the first place. “However long it takes until you make me cry, maybe.”

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #ghost smut #simon riley smut #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty smut #call of duty fic #simon riley fic #ghost fic #smut #simon riley x you

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grapejuicestyless · 11 months

Note

Can you please do a conklin oldest sister x Conrad in a best friends to lovers. Like the four times you almost kissed and the one time you did.

I was thinking maybe for one time she’s cleaning him up after the bonfire fight and he’s sorta drunk and thanks her for always caring for him or just ask her why she does it and it gets all tense and then obv they almost kiss and then they get interrupted. And maybe another one in their tween years. The other two can be whatever you want. Also childhood flashbacks and fluff, probably Susannah sorta knowing and shipping too. A tiny bit of angst too. Sorry if this is a lot like your Back to You one! Thanks <3!

Don’t Go.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Flangst

Summery: The THREE times you almost kissed and the one time you did.

“Con.” My voice was soft. His bedroom was quiet, even the softest of whispers echoed through the four walls. Bouncing around and ringing back into our ears.

He hummed in response, eyes stuck to the ceiling. We counted each bump, each paint stroke. Not out of boredom, but because the idea that we could be together, just the two of us in our own little peace was comforting.

“Do you think we’re best friends in every universe?” The question was stuck to my tongue like glue. It almost hurt coming out that way. A double edge sword, in some ways.

In my head, I’d always entertained the idea of Conrad and I. A pairing that just worked. The idea that I could call him mine, his mornings and nights. I enjoyed the daydream of his arms around my own. His shirt in my closet. Not because I stole it, but because he wanted me to have it.

Swallowing, my eyes flickered back over to his face. When I pulled myself from my head, I saw him. His eyes bright, serious and looking deeply into my own. The soft smile on his face said it all, the gentle touch of his shoulder brushing my own. We were so close that his deep breathing caused our skin to touch. Our arms bumping into each other smoothly.

“You trying to get rid of me already? I thought we had a good thing going?” He faked offense, a coy smile on his face turning into one that was purely cheeky. I couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t unusual for Conrad to avoid deeper questions. It wasn’t because he couldn’t answer them. No, Conrad was one of the brightest people I knew, if not the most.

So, I pushed at him. Nudged him so he shook. I needed to know. In my eyes, all I could ever see was Conrad. What if he never imagined the same?

His deep sigh sounded distant. I knew then that he understood why I even bothered to ask. He wasn’t annoyed, he never was. It was just a calming pause as he thought of what to say. My breath caught in my throat, there was a pregnant pause. His eyes stuck to ceiling, my hands intertwined over my stomach.

I couldn’t pull my eyes from his face. How beautiful he looked in the setting sun. The rays of warmth dancing through his cracked window, leaving a warm spit on the bed. We soaked it up. I watched how his face never lost the glow of happiness, a gentle smile forever stretched across his calm face.

His smile was always evident, even when he was serious. He once said it was because there was nothing I could do to make him upset. That I was a radiant ball of sunshine, a shot of expresso. I took it as an insult then, I thought he was calling me annoying. Now I understand I was far too immature to understand how poetic he was.

“In every universe.” Again, he looked to me. His eyes were certain of it. Like even if it was unsure that any other universe existed, if one did he was positive that we would be just the same. Laying in the quiet in the warm sunlight, taking in the peace of each other’s presence.

Boundless. Infinite. The only words that could accurately describe us, I believed. The possibilities of what could be. With each passing second, the invisible string that tied us together, tethering around out hearts grew thicker. Tightening between them, the distance left little room to get away.

If I ever decided I hated him, which I understood now would forever be impossible with how grand the impact his love had on my heart was, even then I would forever be tied to his pinky. Stuck to him like glue. We would forever be connected. We were infinite.

And for that time, I swore I could feel some energy pulling him closer. His soft breaths escaping his nose tickled my own. He looked concentrated, almost like he was preoccupied with something. Something that was tugging at him ferociously. For a moment, his bright eyes lowered, darkened by the heaviness of his eyelids. We were stuck, forever inching closer. I wondered if this was really happening.

“Do you ever think of death?” His cheeky smile pulled me again from my overly sentimental ideals. He was serious, he always was when he needed to be. But then again, I know my best friend, I know my Conrad. Its only so long before he retreats back to the warm hug of his poorly timed jokes and mediocre humor.

“Shut up!” I laughed. Even though I had pushed him, the rush of laughter weakened my muscles. Even with all the force of my arms he barely moved. So, collapsed on his bed, we laid in our own shared joy until it faded into another quiet nothingness. And still, we were never bored, but instead basking in the other’s presence. Happy to be able to sit so close and call the other their best friend.

At the time, I prayed he would have kissed me. The thought of it kept me up some nights. What was he playing? What was his reasoning. I realized now that Conrad may not have been going in for something so intimate. He got lost often, trying to find some comedic relief. It was more Jeremiah’s speed, the light hearted jokes and the idiotic tendencies. But we were only fourteen then. Back when the invitation to his bedroom felt like a golden ticket, a privilege to be seated so close to the boy I swooned so horribly over in my prepubescence.

What I didn’t know then, something that was uncertain I certainly knew now. Conrad wasn’t trying to kiss me, and he never would. He was my best friend, my buddy. I was the girl who would stand beside him and wish she could be the girls he fell for each time. We were best friends, in every universe. Infinite.

The grass was wet. Dew covered the blossoming slopes of green, sand packed into the roots, picking up in the gentle breeze. The radio from the ruby red Jeep crackled with the early morning birds. August humidity, blue jays and seagulls singing and squawking. If you moved in the right way, bending your arms outward, the air would fill your shirt and the flapping sound would fill the car unbearably loud. I knew that because Y/n insisted it was freeing. My bare chest in the ocean wasn’t subjected to the same heat she endured. Our clothes didn’t stick the same.

It was a routine now. Every Wednesday, just before the sun fully broke the horizon, Y/n and I would tiptoe as quietly downstairs as we could, simply to be able to refill the muffin tray. Neither of us enjoyed the raisin ones. Laurels favorites, though her sour expression seemed to say otherwise. Maybe it was a health thing, she would never tell us. She was stubborn, and strong. It was obvious that Y/n was her daughter.

The pebbled driveway felt much louder without the accompanying screaming of children and loud engines of lawnmowers. Each step was followed by an apologetic hiss, we would spend a few minutes just getting to the car. The tradition seemed stupid after the first month, but it was so ingrained into our minds, it felt wrong to just rush to the car. It was less fun without the thrill of sneaking out.

She’d always wait until the silent street turned into bustling town roads, families ready to work, friends ready to leave. Once my hands were tied she would roll down her window and shift her body. She would smile at me until I acknowledged it. She was cocky, smug about my growing annoyance.

And at first, it really got on my nerves. Yet, the more and more she did it, the less I cared about the reasons, the more the sound drowned out with the townsfolk laughing just a little too loud for the early morning and the barking dogs and hissing cats.

I never fully enjoyed it. Every sharp corner still hurt my ears, but I never minded it. Her laughter and ease put my mind to rest. More so, it reminded me that this was something only she would do. Only she would think to annoy me with.

My heart fluttered, pathetically at how simple her teasing was and how much it affected me. How her laughter cured any headache. How the leather seats smelled less like the beach and more of Y/n’s summer scents.

She worked two jobs. A coffee shop in the winter and a small ice cream hut in only July. And with each place she visited, she changed ever so slightly.

In December, she smelled of coffee grounds. It was something usually so bitter, but something that mixed so perfectly with her vanilla perfume she’d worn since freshman year, it balanced into something delicate, delicious. It was intoxicating, almost as much as she was.

In the summer, she smelled of strawberry and something sweet. Not quite vanilla, but closely related. It was refreshing, never overpowering. All of the winter washed away, you could practically smell the sand stuck to our skin and salty hair from the water.

I loved how I could smell it. I loved how I knew the difference. It reminded me of all the time we spent together. How lucky I was to have her so close. Even if our time was always so limited. I knew the difference because I payed attention. She was my favorite person, without a doubt. I knew her through and through. Her shampoo, her favorite tops. I knew everything because I loved her. Held her close with no room to let go.

And the more I came to terms with this, the less resistant I became to her teasing. The less resistant I was to the sound of her shirt violently shaking in the wind. The windows being down and letting in the morning chill no longer phased me. It was routine, one I’d grown to love endlessly. One I couldn’t ever part with.

Pulling up to the small bakery that sold the muffins, I could always predict the order. Two chocolate chips, three blueberry, two raisin and one plain. I knew that on the way back to the car, she would be balancing the boxes in her arms, begging me to not help and just open the damn door.

When we’d get back into the car, she’d immediately open a box. Then, we’d split a blueberry muffin. It was tradition.

Always the messy eaters, soon the evidence was left on our faces. Crumbs stuck in the crevices of the leather seats, blue smeared by the corners of our mouths. I couldn’t help hut laugh at her ridiculousness. Her furrowed brows and happy smile. She looked so soft like this. The morning glow and her determination to finish the muffin quickly. It put everything into perspective. A reminder of why I felt so strongly stuck to her.

“You have a little something.” She teased, finger pointing, ironically enough, to a splotch of blue painted on her own face. She was unaware, yet so sure of her own joke she hadn’t gone to wipe her own face prior.

“Oh yeah?” I challenged. She nodded, “Where?” I persisted, I leaned in closer, riling her up. Her hand smeared across my face. Harshly wiping at the crumbs until it was just a faint line of blue from my lip to my cheek.

“Got it.” I pushed away, spitting at her stupid jokes. Truthfully, if it had been anyone else I would’ve yelled. It was childish, annoying. But this was Y/n, so somehow it became rather endearing, sweet.

My eyes locked with the blueberry by the corner of her mouth. She didn’t notice how my face had relaxed into a gentler smile, how my shoulder settled and breathing calmed. As she was thrown into her own laughing fit. Her hands guarded her body and her eyes were teary. It was my chance.

With revenge in my sight, my hand slapped across her face smoothly. Not hard enough to hurt her, but enough to make her eyes snap open and laughing to calm. Smearing her own mess around her face, blue gathered around her skin like a violet tinted lipstick. She looked shocked, only for a minute.

I saw the way her mouth quivered, I felt her heart face. But it all stuttered to a stop when the first laugh escaped her serious gaze. A silent admittance that U had gotten her back, a playful game between the two of us that ended in spilled baked goods and messy skin.

“Truce?” She called in the cool down. My eyes found hers then, and in them held a honest truth, no tricks hidden behind them or malicious intent. Oddly enough, the foolish game between made my body feel warmer, fuzzy. My heart raced. It was something so secretive in a way. Nobody would know what happened here, it was a memory between just us. Something that I only we could smile about.

My head was stuck in a lavender haze, so much so I fell oblivious to the way my hand barely traced her lip. My hands curled into a fist, I rubbed away some violet from the corner of her mouth. It was gentle, feathery light even.

I am reminded every time I touch her that I do not have her, and blinded by the possibility that one day I could. Her skin feels natural under my fingers. Maybe its the fact I’ve known the girl for my whole life, or maybe its my own unshakeable love for her. Still, for some reason I am stuck with my hand by her cheek, with my eyes concentrated on the way shes smiling while I do it.

“Conrad?” Her voice is soft, nervous almost. I look to meet her eyes, but I keep my hand still, slipping just below her jawline. There I swipe my hand under it to cradle her head by her ear. I leave a trail of evidence in my wake, it reminds me of how playful we were, how painfully platonic her jokes were. It almost burns to hold her now, so my hands fall to my sides.

In my little resistance left, I held back. But more than anything, I wanted to place my lips against hers. She looked so much like home. She was everything to me. But her voice and her concern reminds me that her lips are not mine to kiss. I clear my throat, trying not to seem so flustered.

“Sorry, I spaced out.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Y/n was guilty of having a magnetism that felt almost obnoxious. It pulls you in, and once your in its hold, its impossible to remember reality.

“Yeah, yeah. Its fine. We should probably get back.” I nodded in agreement, but even with my eyes pulled away from her, all my willpower used up on trying to not look at her, I notice her hurt tone. How she seems almost distant, disappointed. She shifts in her seat when the car starts again. Suddenly the muffin tastes bitter under its sweat exterior. And I am filled with regret.

“Conrad, I’m going to grab a drink, you want your usual?” I nodded, eyes watching how she weaved between the crowd, her shoulders shrink and her waist turns until shes gone into the night.

I forget how many people are around when shes so close. It’s embarrassing how obsessed I feel around her. I can feel how my heart beats aggressively whenever shes around, I wonder if she feels it to. I think about taking her hand, placing it on my chest and asking her. Its a thought that comes solely because I am drunk. I know it. Sober me would never have to courage, the audacity to go onto her so quickly. But the liquor is the microphone and I am projecting my feelings more openly than ever before.

I think of all the times we came so close. How when she asked if we would be forever together, I choked and pushed away what was presented. It was romantic, and we were so young. Then I had never felt more confident and I held back. She gives me another chance, as I wipe away all crumbs and I fold again. I am conscious of my surroundings, of my feelings. I am aware of the consequences.

“…Y/n.” The name is fuzzy, I am still coming out of my daydreams, my head is clearing again when the sound of her name comes up out of the blue. When I turn I see a scattered group of younger boys. High schoolers, no doubt. I see the way they search into the distance like I had. Not seeing anyone but wishing they could.

Its a blur, how it happens. One of them says something stupid, horny and drunk and suddenly we are in the sand. My knuckles are bloody, my nose is bleeding. I hear him grunting underneath my body, I am suddenly aware that I am winning.

“Conrad!” Her voice is heavenly, but I don’t pull my punches. I am angry, defending her like I owe it to her. I don’t even know if he’s hitting back anymore. I can’t feel it, I’m going numb.

“Conrad!” Her hands yank at me until I stand. He’s still swinging, but he’s missing. Bruises are forming, his mouth is bleeding. I feel no remorse. I am not sorry, not until I turn around and see her.

Her eyes are glistening, and her nose is scrunched. Whether from her threatening tears or the stench of sweat and smoke. I cannot tell. But I know how her lip is quivering, how hard she is holding back. Whether it is sadness or anger, I do not want to know.

Watching her stare me down, its like letting the high come down. The numbness fades, turns out the boy had gotten some punches. My body is littered in bruises and cuts from his nails.

When she drags me away, I understand how naive I was for thinking she would appreciate the violence. All of this happens so quick, I didn’t even get to tell her it only happened because all I want is for her to be respected. I did it to defend her. Shes silent, breathing heavily to make the escape, nobody has to know what happened but us.

Shes a good friend to me, shes always there. Its stupid how my heart flutters again, how it drops into my stomach and back up again. I want to hurl, I am so anxious of her reaction. And all I want is for her to hold me and tell me I did her right.

The stench of smoke was stuck in the air. Even in a ventilated room, one filled with cracked open windows and boundless moonlight bleeding across the floor. The white tiles speckled with crimson red dots, a reckless line to the toilet.

I had him in my hands, cheeks squished under my palms, toilet paper held against his nose. His breathing was stuffy, heavy. All remnants of the evening.

If I knew how much trouble he would cause, I wouldn’t have walked away. No, if I knew he would suffer, I wouldn’t have left.

His eyes are shifty, glossy and wide. He is drunk, and emotional. He wouldn’t ever tell me why, but I assume its because the bruises that make him flinch each time he stretches too far out.

He hiccups, groaning and holding his side. I almost roll my eyes at his stupidity.

“Hold still.” I say it under my breath, focused on prying away the tissue from him nose. I blot at the crimson that stains his peachy skin. His eyes shut tightly, tears fall from the corners. He hasn’t cried in front of me in awhile, it makes my heart stop.

His hand fumbles for mine, and once its found, suddenly I’m holding it. He’s not squeezing, but I can feel how he resists the urge to. He does one time, squeeze my hand. When I hiss, he apologizes repeatedly.

“It’s okay, I know, I know.” I plead for him to stop so I can finish. He is drunk and I an no better. I am halfway to where he is, a red solo cup spilled on the beach that would’ve led me there.

“See? All done.” Tossing the red wine stained tissue into the trash, his eyes open. They are foggy, and he is quiet. For a minute I think he might vomit, but it never comes and the floor is just as clean as it was when we came.

“You always take care of me.” He breaks the heavy silence. Neither of us are sure if Im angry or not. Neither of us can decide it.

“No I don’t.” I remember the time he fell of the monkey bars in pre-school and I laughed until he got so angry that he shoved me into the grass. I remember how in middle school, when a girl had a crush on him I told her he still slept with a night light. It wasn’t a lie-but it was cruel.

“Yes you do, you always do.” He thinks of the time when I got the last chocolate soft serve and he wanted it so desperately. How he didn’t even beg me, I wanted to see him happy so I shared. He thinks of the time his first girlfriend dumped him so we called the entire night until she was a distant memory. He thinks of all the good, while I only see the bad.

“Why do you do it?” Because I love you, you idiot. What I want to say, but never will. Because with each chance that I think he might feel the same, with every chance we have at becoming more, he slips away. And my heart breaks.

“I don’t know.” I wonder of he can hear how fast my heart is beating. I feel it in my stomach, it’s in my ears, ringing.

His hand is hot on mine when he changes the way it fits against his. He no longer cups my palm out of stress in pain, but intertwines our fingers.

“You’re always there for me.” He’s drunk rambling now, he still has that same drunken expression stuck to his face. I nod, I feel him pull me closer.

My body slots between his thighs, I am looking down at him. His breath is heavy, I can feel his palms getting sweaty.

“Conrad, we should really get you to bed.” I try and keep us apart. Truthfully, even with the stench of beer on his breath and the unbearable heat of the summer night, my knees are still weak and my heart is still racing.

I try and pull away, removing myself. But I become a rubber band. My arm extends, and he’s pulling me right back to where I was before. It’s like we haven’t moved.

“Don’t go.” He says it quietly, but the way he says it makes me want to stay forever with him just like this. His eyes are glossy, searching my face. I feel how his other hand fingers its way to my jawline.

He doesn’t ghost over my skin like he did in the car, his touch is heavy, firm. The rest of my body feels cold without his touch. His fingertips set my jawline on fire.

“Con.” I plead. I want it more than anything, to be held by him so intimately. But he’s drunk, he doesn’t truly want this. He’s horny and I made the mistake of getting too close.

“Y/n.” He smiles devilishly. His face is so much closer before. I’m aware of that now that I’m truly paying attention. His hand is behind my ear, fisting at my hair. It doesn’t hurt, physically.

When our foreheads bump, I become stuck. He’s so damn magnetic, I cannot move away.

“Don’t go, okay?” He asks again, breathlessly. My hand is dropped, my waist is being cradled and I am fully committed to him.

Nodding, I cave but I can’t stop shaking. I want this, but if we kiss and in the morning he decides he doesn’t want it, it would shatter me forever.

His nose bumps mine clumsily, and his breath is heavy. He doesn’t seem anxious, scared. But his heart isn’t beating like mine. He’s sweating not from fear, but from the alcohol. Suddenly I want to escape. I can’t be here any longer.

“Y/n? Conrad! Are you in there?” Belly knocks on the door frantically and I pull away so fast, he can’t grab me and beg for me to stay. He can’t trap me.

Shes confused, face illuminated by the light of the bathroom. The hallways is dark behind her and our shoulders brush.

I don’t trust myself within the walls of this house. I walk away from it with all my willpower. I’m gone and I don’t stop going until the road stops curving and I am in the middle of a patch of unclaimed land. Where the grass is untamed and the moon is darker behind the trees.

Its overdramatic, the way I struggle to breathe. Its like his hand wasn’t just there on my jaw, but squeezing. My skin hurts where his body touched mine. He doesn’t want me, I am reminded. He is drunk. Why else would he suddenly present himself and beg for me to stay.

I know it only hurts so much because it’s Conrad. My buddy, my best friend. The love of my life. I remember how he begged me not to go, how he praised me. Buttering me up just for him to leave in the morning.

I held my breath just a little longer than I should have. Waiting for him to chase after me. Tell me one last time to never leave him, that he really did love me. That he really did want me.

But I am not naive, or stupid. I know he is fast asleep by now. I imagine Belly tucked him into bed quickly after I left. He is sleeping peacefully, and while I rip out my hair, he will be blissfully unaware in the morning.

“Why are you angry?” Susannah pried, flipping through her magazine. She was slouched on the couch, a sundress draped over her body. She was glowing, unbothered completely by my sour mood.

“I’m not mad.” I sat next to her, stiff. If I were to sink into her shoulder, surely I would crack. I stared at the blank TV, too scared to make another sound or to move.

When I heard the crinkle of the paper and a soft slap against the wooden table, I silently cursed myself.

“Y/n, honey.” God, I wanted to punch her in her perfectly white teeth then. How kind and observant she was. She was almost condescending when she said my name again. Neither of us were idiots, neither of us oblivious.

I had been avoiding Conrad like the plague for the past week. When he woke up the next morning, unaware of what happened, confused about why I looked so exhausted, so frustrated I finally bent too far and snapped.

Looking into his eyes made me feel nothing but guilt. I swore to keep that night out of sight then. If he didn’t know, then nobody had to. We could go back to normal. But still, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t forget the way his breath was warm against mine, how his hands felt under my shirt. How he begged me to stay. It was all I ever wanted.

I didnt tell her, still. And my lies were shallow. Unbelievable.

“Did something happen between you and Conrad?” Her voice was innocent, light, airy. And her touch, the exact opposite of her sons, was so confident, so sure. Like there was nothing I could do or say to change how she saw me. And though she played coy, her smile told me she knew. She’d known for awhile.

I stuttered on my breath, only able to shake my head. My cheeks heated and lips bitten raw.

“Honey Im no idiot, I know you just like I know my son.” Her hands stopped running through my hair, falling to her sides. She sympathized with me, and the look in my eyes told me she knew more than what happened that night.

“So you know, then.” And silently, we both understood that we weren’t talking about the late night rendezvous and blood staining the bathroom tiles.

“I’ve always known.” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. My shoulders felt heavy then. Maybe he knew too, maybe thats why I freaked out.

Her hand rubbed my cheek, it felt nice to not shy away from her. Melting into her shoulder, I let her hold me like her daughter while we stared into blank space.

“What if it’s never the same?” It was my greatest what if. Determining if my confession I had been secretly brewing for years would ever be able to be taken back. If we could ever go back to the simplicity of our youth.

“Somethings are worth the risk.” Her words stuck to me like glue. And though I knew she was right, I couldn’t help but run away from the elephant in the room, I couldn’t help but abandon Conrad.

When the house is cold and empty later, I come out of my room and into the light. It is when everything is silent and untouched that I allow myself to bask in the warm setting sun in the kitchen. I let the summer air kiss my skin and I clear my head.

The pans in the sink clank behind me and the refrigerator opens. Its not dark quite yet, but its dimmer out, so the light from the refrigerator illuminates the countertops, signaling it was opened. However, whoever had entered hadn’t said a thing yet, I can’t help but hold my breath.

“Can I sit?” His voice is low, unsure. It reflects the exact opposite of our last night together. I want to run again, my skin suddenly feels too tight over my bones, everything is caving in. But then I remember what Susannah said. He would be my greatest what if of my life if I never tried to mend and move forward. Conrad is the biggest risk that I am forever willing to take.

“Yeah, of course.” Its awkward between us now, and I am aware that everything is already never the same. There is no going back. I want to leave now, now that I know what he feels like. But my heart aches and my mind won’t stop screaming at me to ask.

I fiddle with my hands, looking outside, I can feel his eyes on mine. I decide then to screw it all, I have to leave. Screw the plan, screw my brewing confessions, screw mending and forgiving and forgetting. I can’t. I’m lost and so is he.

When the chair slides out from under me, I don’t expect the other to hiss across the wooden floor behind me. I don’t expect him to grab my wrist and pull me back.

“Don’t go.” It was quiet, but it was confident. He was sure for once. And I could see it in his eyes that he remembered. That he understood why I was running. More than that, I could see how he was hurting just as I was.

“Why’d you do it, Conrad?” My mind is silent after the echoing words come out of my mouth. He shakes his head, and I try and break free. He’s not really hurting me, but he is and he refuses to talk to me.

“No, Y/n…” He pulls me back. I don’t stop trying to escape.

“Tell me and I’ll stop, tell me and I’ll stop.” I beg, my throat is sore, and my eyes ache from holding back my tears. It’s pathetic how quickly I am worked up over him. When I was the one to leave in the first place.

“Stop. Stop it.” I am struggling against him, his hands try to find my wrists desperately. When he finds them, I am stuck in place, his hands like shackles.

“Stop it!” He yells, his voice rings in my ears.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” My tears are falling quickly, and they are hot with how angry I am.

“I don’t know!” He begged me to understand, to see his side. But all I can remember is how stupid I felt all these weeks. How the flashbacks of the times it almost happened haunted me. How I believed he never really wanted me.

“You knew, you knew and you made me feel like an idiot!” I pushed him back, but with his hands on my wrists I only went back with him.

“Y/n.” He’s patient, he always has been, but I’m wearing him thin. I know it. I need him to snap, I need it.

“Why didn’t you tell me! Why!” I begged him for an honest answer, I pushed him and I didn’t stop until he was just as desperate.

“I was scared!” He said it like it was a solution.

“So was I, you asshole!” We were out if breath, sitting in a brief silence. I looked away to collect myself, catch my breath but the second he was back in my eye sight, all my composure was gone again.

“You never gave me the chance.” He says it softer than before, but its just as vicious.

“Was I supposed to wait for you to get the balls? You came downstairs perfectly fine while I was tearing myself apart with guilt! Me! When you were the one who was begging me to stay!” I match his tone. Its frantic, I’ve never felt more stressed.

“Y/n, please.” The more he says my name, the more angry I get. The less patient I get. And I am not patient.

“Can you not see how in love with you I an you idiot! Are you that blind or do you get pleasure from ripping me apart?” My confession weighs on him like a ton of bricks, I feel his hands stutter on mine. I see his mouth freeze and the color drain from his face.

If I didn’t feel stupid before, I feel it now. I feel more than stupid, I feel crushed. Completely shattered by his silent rejection.

He drops his hands, too in shock to keep such a strong grip. Tears are welling up again, and my lip refuses to stop quivering. I can’t hold it together and I’ve already made enough of a fool out of myself. I have to leave. Its the only thing I’m good at.

Turning swiftly on my heals, I make my escape, eyes set on the door ahead. But there it is again. His hand on my wrist. And its yanking at me more than ever before. It’s spinning me around until I am secure in Conrad’s arms and his lips are pressed to mine so quickly, there is no time to second guess it.

Its heavenly, the way his mouth molds to mine, the way its not rushed. Even after all this time, he is patient. He is playing it out and we are both enjoying it. His kiss happened in a way that nobody else would ever be able to recreate. The sparks were deadly, it was all too much for anything to ever be the same.

We were breathless then, when he pulled away and the look in his eyes was sparkling, almost as beautiful as his smile.

“Conrad, I…” He’s smiling at my shock and his hands are on my cheeks now. His touch his firm and he’s never letting go. We don’t have to speak to understand that this is what we are now. Silently, we are agreeing to be more, and I understand that he’s not going anywhere.

And he kisses me in a way that would screw me up forever.

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