#like please… all of that longing and his comment in the end…

[tan1shere]

My Winner

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: This is how we cope ladies and no gentlemen. Enjoy my loves <3

Summary: after the grammys, Billie finds a way to forget. But you find it hard. Knowing that nothings truly ok. (You'll see.)

Warnings: angst, but heavy on the comfort I promise <3 reader has anxiety so mentions of that

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu @dollarbils @sweetcherriexs

^comment if you want to be added^

Masterlist

What an anxiety filled night. It was nearing the end. The grammys. You know, the big event that always either turns someone's life around or ruins it. You had been anxious all day, surprisingly Billie wasn't. She was so excited to just be there. Happy to be with you especially. But you knew as soon as you took your seats she was masking how anxious she was.

The red carpet was full of stars, full of heaps of people you didn't know either. There was always something about your anxiety, and ever since you had the hunch that your anxiety could always tell you if somethings up, you've been listening to that hunch heavily. Billie also knew of this, but you tried keeping extra quiet currently. If she knew you were anxious that'd set her into a complete state of worry. Knowing you seem to get this way when something is up later on. You couldn't let her get anxious about the night. You hold her hand, walking along as photographers took your photos.

You were next to Finneas and Claudia also, Finn spotting your anxiousness in seconds. You really thought you were hiding it better. He pokes your arm as an interviewer talks to Billie. "Hey whats up?" You look up at him. "What do you mean?" His brow raises. "I've known you for how many years now? Don't bullshit me what's up?" His hand rubs your arm, you grab it softly removing it. "I-" You sigh. "Ok, I'm really anxious for today, I have this odd feeling. I don't want her to see me like this though. She's enjoying herself and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Y/n." - "Please don't say anything." He's now the one to sigh. "Fine, but if she notices something is up, tell her. You know she always worries about you." You nod. "I know I know, just want her happy." He gives you a soft smile, kissing the top of your head. It was nice, he was always so brotherly towards you, you always wanted an older brother. "Like I told her, if we don't win anything it'll be ok." He pipes up. You were about to say, everything about the fact she deserves this though, she has a great right to earn this achievement. But you stay quiet, knowing he is right. You just want what's best for her. Knowing she's always so gracious.

She walks back over to you guys. "Hey, it's almost time to go, you ready?" You nod at her, giving her a smile. As she leads you out with such excitement, you look back at Finneas. He gives you a reassuring nod. Settling some nerves within you. Your mind talks as you get there, finding your seat and such. Telling yourself that this will all be ok. If it doesn't turn out good, you can be there for her. Give her encouragement, telling her she did amazing regardless- "Hello, earth to Y/n." She says standing infront of you. You snap out of your trance. "Hm?" She giggles at you. "Silly cutie." The name eases everything within you, looking into her eyes.

"I said here are our seats." She beams. You sit down, watching everyone else do so. "You excited to perform baby?" You smile sweetly at her. She smiles back. "Hell yeah. I mean a little bit nervous but this is honestly second nature to me now. I'm pumped." You could see how genuinely happy she was. It sooths everything you had previously been worried about.

But not for long, when they were up there singing your chest feels heavy, ignoring it like usual, even not in this situation you enjoy your girlfriends performance. But it doesn't go unnoticed by Claudia. "Babe, you alright?" You turn to her. Her comforting tone makes you let go for a moment. "Im still worried, I don't even know why I said in my mind whatever happens it'll be ok." She places her hand on your shoulder. "I think you're more worried about this than her." You lower your head. "I know." Sighing, but Claudia gets you to look at her. "And that's fine I hope you know, you care so much about her. It's really sweet." You felt teary. "I just want her growing more, this place can be a bit.. stingy." She laughs.

"Yep, don't we all know it." She goes to wipe one tear, but you stop her. "It's best if I get then out now so I won't- just in case of anything." The two if you share a laugh, it felt nice. Considering you usually talk to Billie about your anxiety. But that was off limits right now. You pay attention to her again, feeling calmer after your talk with Claud. Vibing to the music, less stressed. But now the roles were reversed. As the categories she was nominated for go on she seemingly is off, not as bubbly as before. But she puts up a front. "That's ok there's heaps more." You reassure her. She turns to you and smiles, wrapping an arm around you. "I'm so glad you're here." Your eyes flutter shut. "Glad I could be here baby." Her grip on you tightens a bit. And it makes you worried.

Nonetheless you push that down, you wanted to be strong for her. Be there for her. You rub her back going to sit back up as more people come to perform.

Billie was off taking some photos, you spotted her loosening up again, enjoying herself. You just thank whatever. Happy she's not as worried. You though, your anxiety was starting to come back. Little did you know it was all for a different reason. Because as soon as that last nomination comes round you didn't feel as worried, your anxiety was still present but it was for something you couldn't put your finger on. The last one was called and as they spoke, you immediately look at Billie, not hearing her name. Feeling devastated but ready to comfort. Your hand lands on her shoulder.

Noticing her eyes glaze over. You weren't expecting that to be quite honest. I mean sure upset, but it catches you off guard. You gently kiss her cheek. "You're amazing. You're my winner." And it's like she flips some sort of switch, smiling at you. But not saying a word. Odd. She claps like the rest, standing up, randomly seeming different from her state a few seconds ago. You saw it though, you knew she wasn't ok. The flip so fast, it couldn't possibly be all alright. The night ends and you all leave, getting in her car in silence. It was worrying you more. You go to speak but she does before you. "Let's go to Paris."

Your head turns towards her faster than anything. "Billie- what?" You were struck with confusion. "Let's go, get away. I know you've been talking about wanting to go for months, years even. Let's do it." You were at a loss of words. "Baby, you have tour this month, not to mention it's going to take us half a day to fly over there." She shrugs. "Yeah, but tours not until the 18th we have plenty of time." You had zero clue on what to say. "Billie-" You say concerned. She knew you were going to say something so she speaks. "Come onnn let's be spontaneous. Let's get out of here. We can go home and pack or I can just buy you whatever when we are there."

To say the least you were overwhelmed. Turning your head, looking infront of you as she drives. You tossed with the decision. Maybe it would be cool to get away. You suspected she didn't want to talk about anything tonight, so you'd leave it for a few days. "What do you say huh?" She seemed too pumped, it made your worries linger. "Yeah, sure. Let's do it." - "Yes! That's what I like to hear."

You had packed things that you'd need. But it wasn't distracting you from the events of tonight. Not like it is seeming to do with Billie. "Have you told Finn or Maggie and such yet?" She shakes her head. "Nope, it'll be fineee." That set your stomach on edge. No it wouldn't, you always kept in contact. "Better yet as soon as we get there lets put our phones on flight mode!" She goes to grab your zipped up suitcase. You let out a sigh. "Letsgooo." She says, heading for the door. "Baby." You then say, and she freezes. "Leave something?" She looks at you avoiding everything that leads to tonight. Talking, comforting. Crying.

Maybe she needed this, needed to forget, you keep to your word of doing so in a few days. "Nope, just wanted to say I love you." You smile. She comes over to kiss you. "I, love. You. Right to Paris we go!" This could potentially be fun now the moments sinked in, and you had been wanting to go for quite some time. You follow her out the door heading onto your travels.

Sitting and waiting for the flight, in a silence. Again. But it truthfully didn't last long, almost as if she didn't want to be left with her thoughts. "Ok, let's turn our phones off." You were a bit hesitant. But maybe that'll also make the trip more fun. Just with one another, enjoying the moment. You grab your phone going to do so, noticing she had posted a photo on her story of the airport. You decide to keep quiet, thinking on if this whole thing really was a good idea. You hand her your phone. "It's off." She smiles. "So is mine." You tap your your foot, moving your knee feeling that anxiety coming back. Oh. This is what your body was telling you earlier...

This.

It was 20 minutes away. You had taken a nap, had some food. Billie? None of that, they brought food around but she insisted on you having it. Making your heart tighten. Feeling so wrong still. Nor had she been asleep for all of those nearly 15 hours, staying up all day and night. It wasn't good. "Hey look at the sunshine." She points out the window. You turn your head, seeing it. Then everything floats past you. "Wow." You say amazed. You had always dreamed of coming here. It's just now set in that it's a reality. "That's, the Eiffel Tower!" You beam with excitement. "Sure is." It was beautiful. All the buildings. You smile contently.

When you land and get out, you're greeted by people with their beautiful accents. "bonjour!" Someone greets. You smile, having had practiced a tiny bit of French. "Salut!" They smile at you. "Wait you can speak French?" You nod. "Just a little. Told you this was my dream." You both smile at one another. "You're going to love our hotel room then! Looking right at the Eiffel Tower." You open your mouth. "A- wha- are you serious?" She nods, smiling more. "Oh my god!" And her plan was slowly working, not for too much longer when you figure it out though.

You arrive at the hotel, settling in. "This is breathtaking." You go out on the balcony. "Is this even real I feel like I'm in a movie." She comes out with you. "Very real my love." Then it strikes you on why she's doing this- But her mind was quicker than your own. "You see the tower there?" She points, making your mind distract as you look. "Got us a table at the restaurant there." You're shocked. "What?! How?" She smirks. "I have my ways." You laugh at her. "Say, why dont we go shopping just in time for tonight?" You nod, going to go for a pee.

She sighs a little. "Back on track." Her eyes wander off to the scenery, taking it all in.

Shopping was heaps of fun, all the pretty clothes, all the beautiful sights. But almost all of these were too expensive. "Maybe we could just-" Billie grabs the handful you were about to put back, putting it near the till. "Why don't you get those shoes you liked!" You stood there for a moment. "Billie.. Those are so much I-" "Nonsense, go go!" It took you a second to snap you out of, well honestly. None of this felt real. Then that heaviness returns to your chest. When you go to protest she had already paid for it. Shoes and all. "Baby I-" Her finger waves in your face.

The reality truly hit you. She was distracting you, she was avoiding everything. She goes to pick up the shoes heading out. You trot after her. "Can we-" "Oou let's go find a cute Cafe!" Your brows lift upwards, sewing together. Your worries were starting to fly right back. But she takes your hand as you go off to do whatever.

This was far from normal. You were getting ready, doing your makeup but you can't shake the feeling of the past 24+ hours. You felt like your mind was going to explode. You had to talk to her, you couldn't wait another day. You walk out of the bathroom, dress on and everything noticing she was dressed up to. You had nearly forgotten the topic that you wanted to discuss. "Uhm, babe?" You say, she turns around, jaw dropping. "Woah." You swallow. "Are you ready? You sure look it oh my god." You walk over to her. "Can we talk for a second?" She knew exactly what was about to come. "We don't want to be late, I made the reservation for 7." She goes to leave but you grab her arm.

"Baby-" She sighs. "I'm getting a bit peckish, are you?" She was avoiding it like the plague. You wait a moment. "Yeah, sure." She smiles, kissing your cheek. "Sweet!" And so it went on, you get to the beautiful and iconic tower, mesmerized. "Oh wow it's beautiful." She grabs your hand. "Not as beautiful as you." You stare lovingly in her eyes, such a romantic city, a forgetful one too apparently. Because just like that you were focusing on it more, finding yourself getting hungry.

The night goes on, it was peaceful. But your mind was not. There was a voice in the back telling you to just say something, but the other is battling it, saying you should enjoy this moment and the fact it doesn't happen very often. The food was delicious the view was unbelievable. Just for tonight.

It's now two days later. You cursed yourself at the fact you haven't tried talking about it. But that ends today, she needs to just let it out. You know it's hurting her deep down. The way she's handling it wasn't healthy. You were currently out getting a massage, 'her treat' which is basically been the moto this whole trip. You didn't want to waste it or seem ungrateful. But you had snatched your phone from her bag, you had to see if anyone texted. And surprise surprise they had. Maggie blowing up your calls. Finneas texting you non stop. Fuck. You regret it getting this far. You wanted to tell them but not until you talked to her first. Your finger moves to tiktok, watching all that was going down.

People saying that we've gone missing and that no ones heard from us. "Jesus." You whisper. "You alright my love?" The sweet French lady asks. How the hell did anyone even know so quick. "You're very tense." - "Yeah just- just some stuff going on right now. Sorry." She chuckles. "No need to apologize my dear. That's why you're here, to relax and be calm." You take in a deep breath, feeling her massage you further. You wish Billie was here with you, but she had been off for a run when you had woken up, seeing the little note and directions to come here. Then your eyes flutter shut and you soon fell into a peaceful slumber. One you hadn't had the night before. Due to all the tossing and turning.

Billie wasn't facing you but you knew she wasn't asleep. Fuck sake. You just can't not talk about this anymore. "Thank you, for the lovely massage." She nods gently. "Look after yourself mon amour." You give her a smile. "Merci." You reply politely. You head back, opening the hotel room to see her sitting there. "Oh you're back! How was it?" You plop your bag down. "Good but can we-" "On my run I saw this cute little wine tasting Vinyard ad, we can get a taxi and head out to it tonight! We could also stay-" You breathe slightly. "Billie-" "Or maybe that'd be too much we could stay there for the rest I know they can do-" "BILLIE!" You finally snap.

Silence.

Dead, fucking silence.

You stare at one another, and you go to speak. "Talk to me please." She averts your gaze. "I dunno what you want me to talk about." Your eyes look up, hating this weird behavior. "Billie you're frightening me. You've never done such a thing before." - "May want to elaborate." You just wanted her to let you in. "Stop shutting me out then and maybe I will!" More silence. "Please, I'm begging you lets just tal-" "I don't want to talk." She gets up but your body moves in her way. "No, you are. I'm done trying to forget, you need to let whatever this is out and this time you will not distract me." She had no. Emotion on her face. "Baby please." Your eyes were teary. "Let me help. Please." You start to sob quietly.

That's all you wanted to do, ever since that night. And there it is, her own sobs cascading down her cheeks. You nod. Proud to see it. She goes to you, hugging you, putting her head in your neck. You kiss her head over and over, trying to calm your heart down. "Its ok, I'm here. I promise." You hold her tight. "Let it in, it'll feel better afterwards." She sobs uncontrollably, having had it built up for days. "I'm so fucking sorry." You shake your head, getting her to look at you. "Don't, you didn't do anythin-" "I did, I went all fucking weird, took you here to forget, just move on. And that look on your face before fuck I'm so s-" This time you cut her off. Putting your hand over her mouth.

"Can I say something?" She nods. You go to wipe her tears. "Theres no need to apologize. If anything I'm sorry for not just doing this sooner, I thought you needed time then you'd come round. But I couldn't anymore. You were hurting and that was hurting me. I couldn't bear it any longer." She swallows. "Since I didn't get to say it then. I'll say it now. I am so fucking proud of you. You don't need some silly shiny award that honestly means nothing in the long run. You are amazing regardless." She hugs you tight. "I don't want to loose you." Your brows furrow. Confused. Then you realize why she's done all of this. She could've resulted to drinking but it was this cold outburst instead.

She was afraid she'd loose you over some silly award. You get her to look at you. "Is this why you took me here? To the place I always wanted to go buying me all this stuff?" She nods sheepishly. "Baby.." Your head shakes. "When did we meet." Now she was confused. "2015 ofcourse." You nod. "When did you first get recognized?" ... "2017 ish.." You hold her face. "I've loved you, as a friend, a partner way before any of this even happened. If that's what you're worried about, think again. Because you could loose all those trophys and I'd still be here. You matter more to me." You smile softly. "You're the only trophy I need." She says. You kiss her sweetly. "Soo, are you calling me a whore?" Her face panics making you giggle. "I'm teasing you baby." Her eyes roll.

"You're a doofus." "I'm your doofus and you're stuck with me." She smiles. "I can certainly live with that."

Everything felt clear. You two did stay in Paris for a few more days, this time with no worry in the world. Truly enjoying yourselves. That is after she texted her family back.

You sat out on the balcony, drinking your whine and her some bubbly water. The night air, cool but refreshing. "You know." She began. "There was a category I was nominated for that they didn't mention." You turn your head, utterly confused. "Having the best girlfriend." Your smile creeps on your face.

"And I fucking won."

:,) ugh cuteness.

[esote-rika]

Could I request Spencer with a really socially awkward reader(gn) who has to meet the team for the first time and just sort ends up hiding behind Spencer?

Feel free to ignore this if you're not up for it :)

Anon, thank you so much for this! I’m sorry it took a little long, but I hope you still enjoy it <3 Cute little drabble of Spencer being the best bf ever.

Contents: Mentions of alcohol, but otherwise, it’s just fluff!!! gn!reader.

Your hands are clammy when he takes them, a clear sign of your discomfort. Immediately, Spencer’s face softens, his features dappled pink and blue from the colorful lights of the bar. Neither of you drink, but his team is celebrating a case they successfully closed, and he’d mentioned it would be a good time to introduce you. The atmosphere is relaxed, after all, inhibitions dulled by alcohol and the knowledge of a job well done. 

For them, at least. You are operating under something entirely different. Nerves. Lots of it.

“You made it.” Spencer says brightly, before he wraps an arm around you and ushers you to their table. His team is all bright, welcoming smiles, and teasing remarks when they see you. You recognize them from the pictures, this group of people he’s come to know as his family. The cheeriest woman, Penelope Garcia walks up and gives you a big hug. Not expecting it, you stand there awkwardly, too busy wondering if you should return the gesture, but by the time you make up your mind, she’s already pulling away. 

Oops. You bite back a wince at your social blunder and manage a smile. 

“Spencer has told me all about you.” You say over the loud, thumping music. 

A chorus of replies. He spends all his time talking about you too, and You two are so cute, and I can’t believe Spence didn’t introduce you to us sooner! Lovely platitudes that you nod at. What exactly do you say to them beyond a thank you? Desperately, you wrack your brain for responses. Be witty, you chide yourself, charming. Make them like you.

But your words fail you in this moment, as they so often do. Small talk seems hollow, perfunctory instead of sincere, so you smile and nod politely as the comments continue around you. The more they go on about how it is to meet you, the more you seem to shrink into Spencer, smiling politely in response. You hope, desperately, that it's enough.

Once the initial round of introductions dies down, Spencer pulls you to a quieter table. The back of your neck is warm from all the attention, and you're worried his team may think you're being too clingy or antisocial. Surprisingly, his team doesn’t comment on it, moving on to get drinks and join the dance floor. Other people may have found it rude to retreat like this, but truthfully, you’re glad for the reprieve. 

Spencer’s hand is warm and heavy on your hip, pulling you tightly to his side. “Are you okay?”

You hum, nodding against his shoulder. “Your team’s nice.” 

“They are,” you feel his lips on your forehead, “But they can be a lot.”

You peak over his shoulder to look at the dance floor. Derek is in the middle of it with a few ladies, while JJ, Emily, and Penelope have their own little dance cluster. “They’re nice.” you repeat, “They just seemed excited.”

He chuckles, “Mhm, that’s because they’ve been wanting to meet you for weeks now.” 

You feel him pull back, and you have to fight back the urge to cling to him. He meets your gaze, brown eyes warm and glittering in the dim light. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not too overwhelmed?”

“I’m fine. I’m glad to have met them.”

He smiles, pleased that his reminders for his team had worked. He’d told them of your tendency to be awkward around new people and had asked them to accommodate it when they meet you. He’s just as nervous and eager for your introduction to be nice, but your comfort is of utmost importance to him. 

For a brief moment, he worried it wouldn’t work, but his team is gracious enough (and so excited over the fact that he has a relationship) that they’ve put on their best behavior and backed off immediately once they caught signs of your discomfort. You’re easy enough to read, and they’re highly trained profilers. 

“They already adore you.” he says, nose buried in your hair. 

You laugh, “You sure? I don’t know if I’ve made the best impression.”

“I’m sure.” his lips ghost across your hairline, “You weren’t even that bad. They’re used to so much worse.”

“Is that so?”

He nods, ducking down to press his lips to yours. “Need I remind you that they have to deal with me?”

Even more laughter escapes you, and you’re immediately put at ease, even more so than before. How could you not, when your boyfriend knows exactly what to say? Perhaps not to other people, but he’s so attuned to you and your needs that you just kiss him back in thanks.

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Epilogue

AN: You can blame Mexico and Onyx Storm for my delay on this one. But for those who are curious, here is our sweet little epilogue for Joel and Freckles. Thank you so much to everyone who read, commented, shared, and encouraged me while writing this story. I love you, and so does Joel and Freckles. XO

Series Masterlist | My Masterlist

Five Years Later

“You wanna come,” he practically taunts, “Don’t you, sweet girl?” 

Every muscle in your body is weak, causing the leather cuffs of the St. Andrews Cross to rub at your wrists and ankles. He’s been teasing you for hours, stopping every time you’re about to shatter. 

This night has been a long while in the making. After five years with your firm you were finally given the lead on a big case; a case that your boss handed to you and said this was your chance to earn your partnership. You spent upwards of eighty to ninety hours a week preparing and Joel could not have been more perfect during that time. He’d often show up with food or coffee for you and your team of junior lawyers, interns, and paralegals. He never complained when you’d bring work home; however, every time you said something negative about yourself, Joel would mark it on the fridge. Over the three and a half weeks of prep work thirty ticks ended up on the small piece of paper that was hung with a Berkeley magnet. You didn’t have time to ask Joel what they meant, and truthfully, you didn’t really care; you trusted that whatever he planned to do with those ticks was for your own good. 

During the trial, another twelve ticks were added. When the verdict was announced and you had won your case, Joel was there in the courtroom, smiling warmly at you when you glanced back at him. When you got home that evening, after a celebratory round or two of cocktails, Joel made you kneel in front of him as he explained that each tick, all forty two of them, symbolized a denied orgasm, a punishment meant to remind you not to talk bad about things that Joel owns. Especially brilliant lawyers who win their first big case and secure themselves as partner.  

As he strapped you to the padded X shaped piece of furniture tonight, he said, ‘if you’re the sweet girl I know you to be, then you won’t whine when I stop. Instead, you’ll say “Thank you, Mister Miller” and I’ll count that as two. Forty two orgasms being denied is not going to be easy, so do yourself a favour and don’t whine; you don’t want to know what happens if you do.’

The only response to his teasing that you can muster now is a whimper and a nod. He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Use your words, honey.”

Your voice is almost silent. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

He walks behind you, trailing the small vibrator along your skin. “Such a good girl for me tonight. Saying yes to everything. Remind me, how many orgasms have I denied you so far?”

Your pussy throbs with the deep timber of his voice, this is truly torture and your safeword is on the tip of your tongue. “Twenty one,” you mumble.

“Poor, sweet girl,” He says from behind you, leaning in closely to whisper in your ear. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You swallow the dry lump in your throat.

“Should I let you pick how you want to come?”

He completes his circle around you and the crossing, stepping in close to you. He uses the little vibrator to gently tease your nipples. You can barely form a thought and just let a small ‘yes’ mixed with moans leave your lips as your sweat covered back arches off the padded back of the cross. The heat of Joel’s body this close makes you feel like you’re on fire. 

“Want to come on my fingers?” He asks, then easily slips three of them inside of you. Your gaze shoots to his as a strangled cry fills the room. 

“Yesyes - fuuuuck, please.” You feel your pussy tightening around his digits.

“What about my cock? You love being stuffed full of my thick cock while I strum your clit. Don’t you? My perfect little slut.” He teases you further by pumping his fingers forward once, revelling in the feel of you clenching tighter around him. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond as he continues.

“No, I know,” his fingers slip out from your pussy and you gasp, unable to protest in your weakened state. Not that you would protest; you know better than to do that, and he told you not to whine tonight. You are a good girl, you know that what your dom says is best. Plus, you need to come so badly that you think you might actually die if you don’t, and Joel is just sadistic enough to keep you like this for days. 

He gets onto his knees, his warm breath hitting your cunt as he speaks. “What if I put my lips around this swollen little clit? Huh? Suck her into my mouth and drink up every ounce of your cum?”

He uses his thumbs to pull the lips of your pussy further apart. He’s so close that your breath catches in your throat at the promise of relief. He blows cool air along your soaked pussy; you clench your molars together and focus on your breathing. You don’t come until he tells you. 

“Would you like that, my sweet girl?”

The restraints cut at your wrists when you try to push your hips to his mouth. “Yes. Yes. Please, Mister Miller.”

He stands abruptly, hand wrapping around the hair at the nape of your neck before he tugs to bring your gaze up to his. The pull of your hair relaxes the muscles of your neck and upper back and you melt into the padded cross.

His eyes darken as he asks, “You really would say yes to anything, wouldn’t you?” 

“Y-yes. I just need to come. Please.” He releases your hair, stepping back and crossing his arms. The veins on his forearms pop, the sleeves of his rolled black dress shirt tightening under his biceps. Since officially retiring, he’s had a strict exercise regime. He was sexy when you met him almost ten years ago, but like a fine wine, he gets better with each passing year.

The gravel in his voice returns, “But you’d say yes even if I told you we were done for the night and it was time to get dressed. Right?” 

Your eyes clench close, head falling back as the panic of not getting to come tonight races through your mind. You take a calming breath before whispering, “Yes, Mister Miller.” 

“Eyes on me, sweet girl.” You peel your eyes open and tilt your chin down to look at him. His hands are now buried in his pockets, and there’s a shift in how he’s looking at you, a slight softness to his dark eyes. 

“And what if I asked you to marry me?” His voice is shy and raspy.

He slowly pulls a ring out of his pocket and holds it up for you. A thin, gold band with a single, albeit very large, solitaire diamond on it sends sparkles all around the room. Tears line your lash line, mirroring his. He clears his throat softly.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, sweet girl. Listen carefully for me,” he pockets the ring and steps closely, wiping the happy tear that rolls down your cheek. The rough whorls on his thumb send goosebumps cascading down your body. “First, I’m going to make you come. Then, I’m going to untie you, get you all cleaned up, and get some sugar into you.”

You nod, leaning into his touch as cups your face. His eyes dart towards the bed as he says, “After that, we are getting to that bed so I can kiss you until neither of us can breathe.”

“And then,” he smiles sweetly, a tear rolling from the corner of his deep brown and honey flecked eye to his greying beard. “And then I’m going to ask you to marry me.”

[wheeboo]

paging dr. heartthrob | lee chan {TEASER}

SYNOPSIS. You can’t afford to be burnt out, especially during a crucial era of your life: being in medical school. Enter your best friend—a boy with a tough-looking exterior, a skateboard that’s seen better days, and a heart softer than his beat-up converse—Lee Chan, with his backpack full of snacks, and an uncanny ability to show up exactly when you need him most. He may not be a doctor, nor exactly your therapist, but he certainly is a heartthrob, and your heart can’t help but always page him. PAIRING. skater boy!lee chan x med student!reader (ft. lowkey stoner!vernon, med student!jeonghan, med student!joshua, soonyoung) GENRE. fluff, childhood best friends to lovers, angst, suggestive, hurt/comfort, college au WARNINGS (FOR THE TEASER). swearing, vaping and mention of weed, just silly banter between two "best friends" <3 WARNINGS (FOR FULL FIC). swearing, food and drinking mentions, suggestive, drug use (weed & vaping), so much fucking mutual pining!!!, reader is quite literally me so self-indulgent maybe?, reader is an overthinking anxious burnt-out mess :((, chan has a mullet, piercings, and tattoos yes (re: cough attacca dino cough), chan is a self-critical perfectionist oof, vague descriptions of minor injuries, mental health topics, medical terminology language, a scene of a panic attack WORD COUNT (FOR THE TEASER). 1.3k WORD COUNT (FOR FULL FIC). approx 20-25k

notes: hello, my little flowers! this is my teaser for the @camandemstudios "the lonely heart's cafe" collab <3. I'VE BEEN BLESSED TO FINALLY WRITE FOR LEE CHAN‼️if you would like to be tagged when this fic comes out, please send an ask or comment down below! sign up for the taglist for the entire collab here! please send all your love to the other authors who are participating in this as well !!

“You’re late,” he calls out, kicking the skateboard up into his hands and jogging over to meet you.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Blame my neuro attending. That man has the stamina of a marathon runner and the patience of a saint. Could rival Derek Shepherd, to be honest. I think I aged ten years today.” You set your bag down on the floor next to a nearby bench. “You didn’t wait long, did you?”

“Nah, not that long. You actually came before Vernon𑁋he left his vape here,” Chan says while fishing the vape out of his pocket and taking a shameless hit from it, a cloud of vapour floating into the air when he exhales, before offering it to you with a teasing grin. “Want a hit?”

You scrunch your nose, shaking your head with a laugh. “Offering me, a med student, that shit is crazy. My lungs are precious thank you, unlike you and Vernon.”

“Tell that to those bozos.” He points to the noisy teenagers at the other side of the park, before sitting right next to you on the bench. “Can’t even roll over there without getting smacked in the face with weed.”

Your smile falters just slightly as you watch him lean back, his face tilting towards the darkening sky. The dim light of the streetlamps catches on the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the relaxed purse of his lips, and highlights the dragon tattoo that snakes up his arm. He looks... peaceful. Content. Like the world isn’t asking too much from him tonight, like there’s no weight of expectations pressing on his shoulders, unlike you.

“I messed up today during clinicals,” You randomly confess, making Chan turn toward you. “There was this patient today… a girl. Seventeen years old, has a tumour that’s basically about to split her brain in half. I kept arguing with my attending about treatments, and I was so sure I was right𑁋that we could do something more about it𑁋but in the end, I just... made it worse. I felt like such an idiot, because… because there wasn’t anything we could do. She only has one chance with surgery, and she took it, despite her low chances of surviving.”

Chan listens to you, his eyes gentle and thoughtful, understanding but not pitying. It’s the same way he used to listen when you were venting back in high school, always patient, never rushing you to fix yourself or your emotions.

“You’re not an idiot,” he tells you, but his tone is nothing like a scold. “You care. That’s the difference. Not everyone would have fought that hard for her, even if you didn’t win. You’ve got a heart the size of the ocean, dude, you know?” 

You smile faintly, chest tightening a little to his words. “The mother-fucking ocean?”

Chan grins at your lightheartedness, nudging you with his elbow. “Yeah, the mother-fucking ocean. You’re stubborn as hell, but you’ve got that heart. And that’s what makes you good at what you do. It’s what makes you you.”

You look down almost in guilt from his words, watching as you unconsciously play with your fingers in your lap. You don’t know why, but it hits harder than usual tonight, and for the briefest moment, you feel the rush of everything you’ve been holding back𑁋the exhaustion, the frustration, the feeling that you’ve been carrying more than your fair share of weight these days. They almost threaten to burst out of you, but right now, they don’t. Not yet at least.

“You’re gonna be a good doctor, you know?” Chan continues. “I don’t even have to be a doctor to know that. You just… you get it. You’re going to go out there and do great things. Maybe even better things than me.”

You almost want to laugh at that, almost want to tell Chan just how much shit he’s done that is far greater than what you could ever dream of. You’re not sure if he realises it himself𑁋how great he is, how much you admire him, love him𑁋but you think you could spend more than a lifetime telling him just that if you could. 

You feel your heart do that familiar flip again, but this time, you let it pass. Maybe you’ve been avoiding these feelings for too long, but the truth is, they’ve been there for as long as you can remember. You can’t exactly pinpoint the moment these feelings shifted from friendship to something more𑁋maybe it was when he helped you get through the first few years of high school, or when he held your hand during a school dance, not in some romantic gesture but because you were scared of your anxiety acting up𑁋but it’s always been there. He’s always been there. 

“I… Thank you, Chan,” You say softly. Then you tilt your head back, looking at the same sky he is, feeling the heaviness in your chest ease just a little. “You’re kind of annoying, you know that? But you’re also... you’re really great yourself. Like, better-than-I-deserve great.”

Chan just chuckles at that. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, turning his head slightly to look at you. “That’s probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, and I’ve heard a lot of dumb shit from you.”

“Wow, okay. Forget all that I said then,” You retort back playfully, shaking your head and crossing your arms together. “You’re the worst person alive, actually.”

When you’re busy gazing up at the sky above, Chan turns to you. His eyes flit over you, taking in the way your eyelashes slowly bat together from tiredness, how your lips are slightly curled up in relaxation, how your features glow from the singular street lamp illuminating the skate park. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and glances away, his thoughts racing faster than he can keep up with.

“You meant it though, right?” he asks.

“What?” You question, turning towards him. 

“About me being great or whatever.” You can tell he’s trying to brush off the hesitation, but you sense the uncertainty in his voice. “You meant it?”

Out of all times, you wonder why he’s questioning it right now at almost midnight in the middle of the skate park. You’ve told him countless times how great he is, always hyping him up for skate competitions and giving him comfort on the times he’s down himself. Why… is he suddenly asking if you meant it?

“Well, I… Of course, I meant it,” You respond, catching his eye. “Why wouldn’t I?”

For a few moments, there’s just silence, comfortable, a pinch of awkward𑁋a word you can pretty much never associate with your interactions together𑁋yet heavy. The way Chan’s features soften on his face from your words seem more important than the stars blinking up in the sky right now. 

Then all it takes is a tiny giggle from him, and you can’t help but groan.

“Oh no,” You grumble pesteringly, shooting him an exasperated glance, but your tone is light, teasing. “I fueled your ego now, didn’t I?” 

“Yep. I can walk around like I’m the best thing since sliced bread,” Chan jokes, puffing out his chest with pride. “My greatness has been confirmed by a certified medical professional.”

“Whatever, big head,” You sneer back playfully. 

Chan stretches out a bit more on the bench, his legs extending and his arms behind his head. You can tell he’s getting more comfortable too, probably ready to call it a night, just like you, and you can’t help but let yourself soften a little.

Without thinking, you shift your body and lean your head down and gently rest it in Chan’s lap. His body stiffens for a moment as if he wasn’t expecting it, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets you settle, and after a beat, his hand comes to gently rest in your hair, and something tugs at your heartstrings from the feeling. Your eyes slowly flutter to a close.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @eternalgyu

@lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @ryuwonieebae @wonwooz1

@planetkiimchi @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23

@phenomenalgirl9 @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit

@bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @starshuas

@totomoshi @armycarat2612 @etherealyoungk @gigification @ahuiahoe

@svtficsarchive @lllucere @reiofsuns2001 @imujings

[kenwio]

Joker's kid! reader : how batfamily would react on them trying to end their life

Route : recovered dove

Please read warnings before reading this one!

If you do not feel like reading it, it's okay! (Spoilers will be at the end of this part) Please have tea or hot cocoa, and read relax 💖 and remember there are people who care and support you 💖 I'll be posting more fluff in future parts

Warnings : heavy topics, mentions of death, implications of self-destructive behavior and suicidal behavior, hurt/comfort, traumatized characters.

Idea for this part from this ask here . I also used this idea for comfort part form here

Author's note : I'm including this part in route: Recovered dove only because I want to show that mental healing of Joker's kid is a long way, it had ups and downs, but in the end they have family who acres about them now.

You don't know what exactly triggered it. Maybe it was the fact that everyone started discussing break out in Arkham asylum instead of the usual breakfast convention, maybe it was how Bruce said he didn't have time for you, maybe it was how Alfred was distant today, so you thought something wrong, maybe it was that Dick ignored you today, maybe it was that Jason's aggressive demeanor when you saw him, maybe it was Tim's comment when you brought him coffee, maybe it was Damian's harshness when you meet him near your room today.

That all made you feel so lost. To see them all being unwelcoming to you again was overwhelming. Is it because your father is free again, and they thought you'd be helping him? Wait if your father is free... he will want you back. You don't want back! No! You don't want to be with him again! You do not want to be experimented on again, be beaten up by him again. You thought it was finally over, that you were taken away from that life, never to return. You thought you found family! Why does he have to ruin your life again? He drove her away from you already, the only person who protected you before Batman and his birds, the only person who was your family before them, your mom ... and now he is doing it again; he is taking your family away again! But were they your family? You thought that Bruce was thinking about you as his own child, you thought that Alfred was proud of your progress, you thought that Dick was happy to spend time with you, you thought that Jason was enjoying your shared reading time, you thought that Tim liked to study with you, you thought that Damian finally accepted you. Were you wrong? Was it all a lie? Did they want to use you as bait for your father? Or did they think you would be able to tell them something about him? Was that a reason why they got close to you? But now that they see they were wrong, and after they made sure you didn't know anything, they decided to drop the act?

Was it all a happy dream that's just ended? If it was a dream, you don't want to wake up to the nightmare of your previous life. You can't take the suffering anymore. You need to make it stop to end it, to end it all.

You didn't know how long you were in you were in your thoughts, when you got up. You wanted to live. The room that became your own, became your safe space now felt like JOKE. You needed to get away from it. You struggled to open the window, as it required much strength from your shaking hands. But you were persistent in your efforts to open it, and in the end window opened. You looked down, it was quite high, and you knew that for your body, which was unlike theirs, weak and fragile, it would be enough. You've seen a grown man die when he fell from his high back in a crime alley, so for you, it will definitely be enough. Oh, crime alley, you don't want to go there. You don't want to return to life with Joker. You stood up on the windowsill, looking at the green grass down, feeling the cold night wind against your skin. Your head felt heavy, ringing in your ears just made it all worse. You took one step, and you felt incredibly calm. You took another step, only to be pulled away from the windowsill on the ground and held up. You didn't register the loud voice, the way someone was shaking you. You just sit there staring at nothing in particular, not even able to cry because of how tired you are.

In the meantime, Damian, the one who pulled you away from the window, had already called everyone and was trying hard to make you snap out of it. Yet it was not helping. When Bruce arrived, he moved Damian, who was looking at you with extreme worry, aside. Bruce recognized your expression; he had seen it before - thousand-yard stare - your own mind was protecting you from whatever you were feeling. As he was trying to help you, holding you against him, trying to soothe you, the rest of the family arrived in your room, seeing scared Damian, worried Bruce, and you... you looked so broken. It was too hard on them all

A few hours later, when you fell asleep after you came to your senses and cried for a while, Bruce and others started figuring out what made you feel this way. And it didn't take long; they are a family of detectives, after all. And this all made them feel really bad, guilty. As it turned out, on this day, you were too unlucky to notice only the bad sides of things.

There wasn't any breakout In Arkham asylum. Turns out, the lead they were investigating turned out to be false. Bruce, indeed, was busy, but he failed to communicate this in the normal way: he only added that he would try to make some only by the time you stepped away, which he didn't notice. Alfred was distant because he had a migraine today, but he still wanted to work around the house; there were too many chores to be done in the Wayne manor. Dick didn't mean to ignore you, he was too tired after his few nights of being up and he just failed to notice your quiet presence, being too busy thinking about his bed. Jason was behaving aggressively because of the lead about break out from Arkham asylum, which was the one that he followed for his case, and since it was false; it took the case he was working on back to square one. Tim actually was mumbling about his case, quietly cursing criminals, and not you; just like Jason, he had too much trouble because of that stupid lead. Damian stepped in at the last second to help you avoid stumbling and falling when you were waking in your room, which resulted in his harshness to you, but you were too deep in your panic to notice that his gaze was more worried than angry. If Damian wouldn't have been worried and decided to check up on you... non of them want to think about it.

They spend night in your room and in the morning, they talked to you, communicating how things actually were the previous day, and expressing how important you were to them.

It was a shock to everyone. Even Bruce thought it was going fine, that your session was working and helping you, that you were feeling safe, and that your relationships with the rest of the family were getting better. And he knew that what happened damaged the whole family because they almost lost you. He regretted that he didn't phrase his words correctly, feeling like he failed to show his care for you. He knew he should have been careful with words, he knows how impactful they can be. And since he said he hadn't got time for you he started making time for you. He wants you to know that he cares for you and he will make time for you wherever you need him. His one daily check-up became 2 check-ups, and when he had more free time, he checked up more. He pays extra attention to you. Even your little sneeze will make him worried to the point of examination in a medbay. He stays with you, and sometimes talks with you, encouraging you to open up and share your opinion and feelings. He tries to lessen the influence of "bad guidelines" (that were with you because of Joker) in your head. He helps you talk through your feelings, helps you show them and process them. He reminds you that you are cared for now. And he promises that he will protect you. After hearing you out, learning your fears and insecurities, and when he learned out that most of all you are afraid to go by your father's way, he promises you that he will do everything in his power to prevent you from taking this way. Bruce wants you to be happy, to make good memories. You already got unlucky with your father, who made you experience hell, but Bruce will try to be the best Dad he can for you.

Alfred felt so guilty. He knew you needed care, but he was distracted. He feels like he let you down, by forgetting how fragile and sensitive you are. He knew you were struggling; he had seen it himself. If only he had paid you more attention. But Alfred, better than anyone else, knows that he shouldn't be focusing on the past; he needs to work on the present, and he needs to make sure you feel better. He makes sure to make you more happy while he can. It's always your favorite tea at the tea time you share, with his cookies, of course, which he bakes with you from time to time. It's always your comfort shows or documentaries on TV when you two watch something. He also makes sure no one dares to make you feel uncomfortable, even if it will make him look around like Hawk. But Alfred understands that he can't always be around; that's exactly why he makes sure that he teaches you at least a few techniques that would be able to help with worry and anxiety, and he practices them with you. You are his little star, who may be really quiet but still efficiently lights up his days, and he doesn't want to lose you. When you share that you are afraid your family will reject you, he personally goes to everyone, making sure that they won't be saying something that contains a message. He wants to see you all grown up and happy in the end; he will work hard to make sure your life in Manor will be good.

Even when Dick just heard how Damian called for help for you, he felt shocked, what to say when he saw and understood the situation. What do you mean his baby sibling tried to make their life end when he was blissfully unaware, sleeping in his old room? How? What he missed? Just a few days before, you seemed on your way to becoming the happy sunshine of a kid, and now that has happened? He is your older brother and he missed all the singes?! He needs to sit down. It's too hard to accept this version of reality for him. The reality is that he can lose another member of the family. He knows what it is like to lose a sibling, and he will never want to experience it or feel this pain again. And knowing that it's you who tried to end your life makes it all worse. He tries to understand what pushed you, trying to see what he can do to prevent this from happening. He also tries to distract you from all the negativity in your life with quality time and different activities. The incident shook him hard, and while he hoped to introduce you to cuddles differently, he had to do it now. He needs to make sure you are close, still warm, still safe, still alive. And it seemed like cuddling with him made you calmer; you didn't even realize how touch-starved you were until then. It became a sort of comforting ritual for both of you, cuddling, sometimes just cuddling, sometimes while watching something. While cuddling he often says sweet words of reassurance to you. And while he knows he can't stay in Manor forever, he makes sure you know that he is always here for you, just a call away.

Jason was mad at himself for allowing himself to snap at you earlier. He feels incredible guilt that he was the reason that you were in that state. For a few days after, he could only watch you in your room or living room until he talked about his feelings and the incident (how he calls it because he can't speak that out loud, it physically hurts him to admit it) with Bruce and Dick. He started slowly approaching you, continuing your reading sessions, but also, sometimes, he decided just to start talking with you. He shares with you his experiences in the crime alley, and you share yours; you both know that only you two in the whole family could understand the full horror of this place, and that's aside from the fact that both of you know the full horror of Joker. He says to you that you'll never become like him, because he sees you are different. Jason tries to comfort you, yet he knows he is not ideal in it, but he is willing to try as much as he can just for you. He can understand that you feel lonely; he can only imagine how lonely you get when all the family is busy with vigilante work. It got him thinking, remembering. He remembers times when he was still Robin, and sometimes, when he got hurt, he stayed in his room alone, and. he hated it. Back when Dick gifted him a plushie of a bat, and now, in another attempt to comfort you, he brings this old plushie to you. He tells you that this plushie kept him company and protected him from everything bad, and now it will protect you, and now you'll never be alone anymore; your family's love will be here for you.

Tim was second after Damian to arrive in your room. This sight horrified him. He just froze, in shock. For once, he didn't know how to act or what to do. After everyone made sure you were okay, and his brain began working again, he started to do what he knew best - investigating and researching to find ways of how to help you, trying them with you in the meantime. Art therapy? He tried to hold a few sessions with you. Special games? You both alredy beating third one. Special music? Here is his player, listen when you want. He becomes more attentive to you, noticing every little detail. He knows as a person who likes studies like him, you would want to learn more about your mental health and how to care about yours. He found a way to explain the basics of it all to you in a way that is easier for you to understand, and only when she reads articles (that he chose, of course) about mental health and coping mechanisms. You want to cuddle with him while reading? Good, he will do it (he is happy that Dick showed you how to cuddle and totally not jealous). You want to stay with him while he works? Okay, sure, he is here for you. He makes sure you can ask him anything; he reminds you that you are safe with him and with others. So when you ask about Arkham and your father there he makes sure to show you that Arkham is hard to get out (even if it's not true).

Damian didn't like how it felt to see you on the windowsill. He doesn't like how it feels to see you in this state. He doesn't like fear. But fear made one thing clear: he cares about you. He hadn't understood how important you became until that incident happened. You are his sibling, and even if he did not choose you, even if he was against the idea of you being in the family at first, now he knows you held a place in this family like everyone else. And now he knows that he will do everything in his power to make you safe; he will protect you even from yourself. He asked Bruce to install precautions in your room. He follows you like your shadow everywhere you go. He makes sure that there is no danger in your way. He checks up on how you sleep after patrols. He makes sure to be nicer when he is around you, and he heads to ask Father, Pennyworth, and Grayson how exactly to behave around you. He joins in Tim the research of ways for you to cope with traumas or ways to comfort you, and when he sees articles about how communicating with animals improves mental health, he brings Titus to you, and when he goes for walks with Titis he makes sure to take you on them too since he also found out that walks improve mental health, and since it's walking with Titus it's beneficial in double. He protects you and he cares for you even if he struggles with proving it

---------------------- ♤ ♡ ◇ ♧ ----------------------

Thank you for reading! Feel free to share your opinion and have a good day 💖

---------------------- ♤ ♡ ◇ ♧ ----------------------

Tag list :

@socially-embarrassing , @leovergurl , @deathbynarcisstick , @cryptic-arr0w , @lynns-cornerr , @cxcilla ,  @charlotteking23 , @ninihrtss , @lillycore , @pix-stuff , @tfamidoingwithmylife , @linoalwaysknows , @00hellohello00 , @lilithskywalker , @bagofrice , @lenaisaloser , @devilslittlehelper , @camilo-uwu , @l3v1us , @eyeless-kun , @stargazingbutgayer, @wpdarlingpan , @weirdothatreads , @maybea1 @lyla-viper-wayne @amber-content @lizzyzzn

if i forgot to add someone to the tag list, please let me know, and i will add you to the next part

---------------------- ♤ ♡ ◇ ♧ ----------------------

Spoiler:

Next chapter connected to this (click here) and after that I'll finally write about Joker's kid! reader hair dyeing adventures

[twstfanblog]

hey, if your requests are open, could you write hcs for the dorm leaders with a reader who has generally long hair suddenly appearing with a short haircut? and maybe your own personal hcs if they’re more into long or short hair, maybe… really like your blog btw! :) keep up with the good writing 🫶

Boys react to a Haircut

Housewardens x Reader

Riddle

Did a double take.

Homeboy was stunned but complimented the new look. Riddle doesn't really care if your hair is long or short, so long as it's professional and neat in public settings.

He liked your long hair, but the short hair is just as nice. He will say he finds your shorter hair cuter than when it was long. But he said your long was beautiful. It's different.

Leona

Annoyed but would never say it.

Hair is a thing of personal expression. If it's not on your head, you don't get an opinion. Personally, though, he finds long hair to be more attractive than short. He just likes having things to play and tug on

He'll pout and huff at the change but he isn't going to tell you that. The short hair will grow on him. Just let him play with it while cuddling and he'll start liking it.

Azul

At first, assumed that something had happened that caused you to cut your hair. Once sure you did it by choice he compliments the new look.

I think he'd like long hair because that was the beauty standard in the sea. The haircut kind of upset him, but he wasn't going to bring it up

Azul's love language to me is gift-giving. And at the start of your relationship, he'd gift you a lot of hair accessories since that was common practice in the sea. So he'd be a bit pouty at the decrease of you wearing the combs and clips since your hair is much shorter now.

Kalim

Whined and cried a bit.

It's my own personal headcanon that Kalim WANTS long hair but it was deemed dangerous since it made him easier to grab. So he lived vicariously through you and Jamil for all his long hair wants and dreams.

Pouts for the longest time, but then he starts realizing it makes kissing you on the neck a lot easier.

Vil

What have you DONE!?

Feels partly responsible for the "hack job". He had made a comment on you having a issue with split ends, offering to trim your hair at a later date to fix them. Only for you to show up with nearly all of your hair gone.

He's more so pouting because he had couples outfits planned for your long hair. He thinks you look amazing with your short hair, but the outfit silhouette changes with short hair and its no longer working in his mind.

Idia

(Like this fucker would notice)

Jokes. But I dont think he'd really care about the haircut and not bring it up unless you do. Idia does think your short hair is really cute though

Personal headcanon is that while Idia CAN cut his hair, because of the magical properties of it, it's a long and annoying process to do. So he's happy you have th much easier option to cut your hair as you please. He just thinks you're cute no matter what alt you pick.

Malleus

A little surprised, but does compliment your new hairstyle.

Personal headcanon that haircutting in the valley is a weird thing. Like, routine trims are common but cutting off a large portion is a life-stage declaration. Like when he and Lilia cut their hair to attend NRC.

He isn't sure if he likes long or short hair more. While longer hair is what he's used to, shorter hair has a charm to it he can't place. So long as he can still run his fingers through your hair, he's fine with whatever style you choose.

[keepingitformyself]

good men die too (so i’d rather be with you)

A/N: first natalie fic. needed to get this off my chest. crush by ethel cain on repeat as i wrote this.

SYNOPSIS: natalie scatorccio isn’t the kind of girl you bring home to your parents. and she’s not the kind of girl you’d think to spend forever with. she’s reckless, dangerous, and rough. but that doesn’t stop you from wanting her all the same.

pairings: natalie scatorccio x reader

genre: no crash AU

warnings: suggestive themes, blood, bruises

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it’s no surprise to anyone when natalie scatorccio comes strolling into soccer practice twenty minutes late. long after coach martinez has just finished a speech on the importance of time management.

her leather jacket slung over her jersey clad body gives you just the faintest scent of marlboro reds clinging to her clothes. she wears a smirk as she approaches the rest of the girls on the field.

coach martinez merely rolls his eyes at her presence. he decides to barely batt an eye anymore. what was the point? natalie was good. maybe not the best, but good enough to get away with her shit.

you weren’t really close to her like the others were. not like misty, who hung on her every word, or shauna, who tried (and failed) to keep her in check. you weren’t even like lottie, who seemed to understand her in a way that made no sense. no, you and natalie were something different.

you didn’t talk much, but when you did, it was charged. every snarky comment or off-hand joke felt like it was said to imply something neither of you wanted to admit. like a game neither of you were willing to lose.

the first time you really noticed it was after a game. the team was celebrating a win at some rundown diner. cramming into booths that barely fit you all. natalie sat across from you, her fingers wrapped around a coke bottle, condensation dripping from the glass.

her eyes met yours, and she smirked like she knew something you didn’t.

“you’re staring.” she drawled, bringing the bottle to her lips.

“you wish.”

she laughed, low and throaty, before leaning in. “i know.”

that was how it always went. a flicker of something in a hallway, a touch too long passing water bottles at practice, her voice too close to your ear when she made some off-hand comment that sent heat pooling in your stomach. and every time, you refused to acknowledge it.

because natalie scatorccio was trouble. and you didn’t do trouble.

but damn if you weren’t drawn to her anyway.

it was easier to act like she didn’t get under your skin. to roll your eyes, to scoff, to push her buttons just to see if she’d push back. you’d rather drive her crazy, make her hate you, than admit what you actually wanted. becuase if you admitted it, it would be real. and real meant dangerous.

real meant natalie had the power to ruin you.

so you kept playing the game. kept up the act. and natalie…she played right into it.

even with the others around, you found ways to test the limits.

at parties, when she was sprawled on a couch with some guy draping an arm over her shoulder, you’d pass by and let your fingers brush against hers for half a second too long. just long enough to make her glance up at you through her lashes, lips quirking like she knew exactly what you were doing.

in the locker room, when the team was too busy talking about the next game, you’d let your knee knock into hers while tying your sneakers. she never moved away.

one night, the team had gathered at jackie’s house for a movie night, a tangled mess of limbs and blankets on the floor.

you ended up beside natalie, bodies pressed together in the dark. her hand rested on her stomach, dangerously close to yours.

you could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, but neither of you moved. not when she exhaled slowly, not when her pinky brushed yours so lightly it could’ve been an accident. you weren’t sure if you imagined it, but you swore you felt her shift just a little closer.

then there was the time in the school hallway. the team was heading to the cafeteria together, but natalie had stopped by her locker. you weren’t supposed to wait for her, weren’t supposed to lean against the metal beside her as she rummaged through her bag, weren’t supposed to mutter,

“hurry up, scatorccio,” in a tone only she would catch. she smirked at you then, slow and knowing, before tucking a pack of cigarettes into her jacket.

“gotta problem with me taking my time?” she murmured, just quiet enough that no one else heard.

you scoffed. “i’ve got a problem with you wasting mine.”

she grinned. “right.”

one friday night, after practice, you found her in the parking lot, perched on the hood of her dad’s beat-up mercury, cigarette balanced between her fingers. the night was cool, and the parking lot was empty save for the two of you.

“you need a ride?” she asked, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“i’m good.”

“you sure? wouldn’t want you walking home all alone. bad things happen to good girls.”

“i never said i was good.”

her smirk widened, something dark flashing behind her eyes. “no, i guess you didn’t.”

you should’ve walked away. should’ve ignored the way her gaze lingered, how the glow of her cigarette lit up her face in a way that made your breath hitch. but instead, you stepped closer. just a fraction. just enough.

natalie tapped her cigarette, ashes scattering to the pavement. “you ever gonna admit you want me?”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “your window’s already passed.”

she laughed, full and unbothered. “bullshit.”

you didn’t answer. you didn’t need to. she could read your mind just fine.

and that pissed you off.

because you hated it. the way she could see right through you. the way she knew you wanted her even when you wouldn’t admit it to yourself.

it made you want to punch her, just to get rid of the feeling clawing up your throat. you wanted to see her lip split open, watch her wipe the blood away with that smug little smirk because then at least you wouldn’t have to think about how badly you wanted to kiss her instead.

then, one night, she cornered you outside a party, the bass from inside thrumming through your ribs. her lip was split, a bruise already blooming high on her cheekbone, and she looked at you like she had all the answers.

“i owe you a black eye and two kisses,” she murmured, voice laced with amusement. “tell me when you wanna come get ‘em.”

your stomach tightened, heat crawling up your spine. natalie licked at the blood on her lip, watching you like she was waiting for you to call her bluff.

but this time, you didn’t want to call it.

you swallowed hard, fists clenching at your sides. “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

natalie tilted her head, stepping into your space, forcing you to meet her gaze. “i know exactly what I’m asking for. and so do you.”

the words settled between you, heavy and inescapable. you wanted to fight her. you wanted to push her away. but more than that, you wanted her to keep going. to ruin you the way you knew only she could.

“say it,” she pressed, voice low, eyes dark. “say you want me.”

your breath hitched. “i—”

“i want you,” she said first, cutting you off. the game, finally over.

and just like that, the bottom dropped out from under you.

you would’ve walked away. but every inch of your body screamed for you to stay. you could feel the weight of her presence as if she was a magnet, pulling you closer, her eyes locked on you like she was reading your every thought.

“i’m not the type of girl who plays by the rules,” she said quietly, voice dripping with something between challenge and promise.

“and i'm not the type who gets caught up in trouble,” you shot back, but it sounded like a lie. you both knew it.

her lips curled into a knowing smile, eyes glinting with mischief. “yeah? that’s funny, because every time i look at you, you seem like you're trying to talk yourself out of something.”

you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot, trying to steady your pulse, but her words hit you harder than you expected. you could feel her eyes on you, following every move, reading the way your body tightened when she came closer.

“trying to act all tough, but you’re standing here, aren't you?” she continued, her tone light but pointed. “guess that makes you just as bad as me.”

your heart skipped, the sting of her words digging into you. “don’t flatter yourself. i’m not playing your game.”

she took a step forward, and you couldn’t help but move back a fraction, but only because you didn’t want her to see how badly she was getting to you. “you’re already in it,” she said, voice dropping lower. "you think i don’t notice the way you look at me?"

your breath hitched, and you scoffed, doing everything you could to keep the distance. "i don't look at you."

natalie cocked her head, eyes narrowing in playful challenge. “really? ‘cause i could’ve sworn i saw you staring when i walked into practice today. or maybe it was when i grabbed that water bottle from you after the scrimage. funny how you can't keep your eyes off me, huh?”

you swallowed, fighting the flush rising in your chest. “you’re imagining things.”

“i’m not,” she said, voice dripping with confidence as she moved even closer. her scent, a mix of smoke and something sharp, intoxicating, wrapped around you. "i know you want to fight it. but you’re not fooling anyone. least of all me.”

“i’m not some fucking game,” you muttered, voice sharp, but shaky. you couldn’t keep the edge from your tone, couldn’t keep the uncertainty out of your voice.

“you’re already in it,” she repeated, her tone quiet but unwavering. “so why don’t you stop pretending? stop pretending you’re not already caught up in me. you don’t get to walk away anymore.”

her voice was so close now, you could feel the heat from her breath brushing against your skin, and every nerve in your body screamed for you to back away, but your feet stayed rooted. your heart thudded, each beat pulling you closer to her than you wanted to be.

“i’m not some... i’m not the type of girl who...” you started, but your words were getting tangled in the mess of thoughts she was creating in your head. you were losing control, and the worst part? you didn’t want it back.

“not the type of girl who what?” she murmured, leaning in just enough to make you feel every word. “who gets what she wants?”

you opened your mouth to say something, anything, but you couldn’t. the words were gone, smothered by the feeling of her closeness, the way she was looking at you, waiting for you to break.

“you’re just a little scared,” she whispered, a teasing lilt in her voice. “scared of what’s underneath all this. scared of what’ll happen if you let yourself want it.”

Your pulse spiked. “stop it.”

“no,” she said, her smile widening. “you start it.”

you could feel the air around you both thickening, charged, and the space between you two felt like it was closing in, getting tighter, until you could barely breathe.

you could taste the words you weren’t saying, hanging in the air, unbearable. and in that moment, you hated her, hated how she could do this to you—make you feel like this.

but you couldn’t pull away. you couldn’t fight it.

and she knew it.

“tell me,” she pressed, voice low, dangerous. “what do you want, huh?”

it wasn’t a question anymore. it was a command. and in the space between, you realized she wasn’t asking for an answer.

she already had the one she wanted.

[letmebeyourcrrsh]

the echo of his broken heart

idol!jeongin x reader

warnings: mention of hate, angst?

tell me if there is more-

genre: breakup

summary: you are dating the one and only maknae of stray kids. you two had been in a happy and healthy relationship for very long now.. until suddenly the internet was filled with pictures of you two…

You never thought you'd be here. Never thought the day would come when you'd have to walk away from him. The man who made your heart feel whole.

Jeongin was your secret—your calm in the chaos. You never wanted the world to know about your relationship. It was yours and his, tucked away in a quiet corner of the universe. The late-night phone calls, the stolen kisses when no one was looking, the soft promises to always be there for each other… That was enough. It was always enough.

But nothing stays hidden forever.

It was one photo. One innocent moment. You were both at a small café, tucked away in a quiet corner, laughing at something he had said. It was like any other day. However.. A fan saw. A fan snapped a picture, and from that moment, everything shattered.

At first, it was just curiosity.

“Is this real?” “Who are they?”

People wanted to know. But soon, the floodgates opened, and the hate followed.

They don`t deserve him. They’ll ruin his career. They’re just using him. They dont even look good next to him? ew. Bet they are only there for the money.

Jeongin tried to protect you at first, tried to deflect the hate, tried to pretend it wasn’t happening. But you saw the pain in his eyes. You heard the exhaustion in his voice when he called you late at night, asking how you were holding up.

It hurt him. And it hurt you.

The once peaceful love you had shared started to feel suffocating. You didn’t want to be a part of the world that was judging you, tearing apart your life for the mere crime of loving someone who happened to be famous. But you knew that as long as Jeongin was by your side, you could endure it.

But then came the threats.

They started slowly—comments on his posts, DMs flooding his inbox. It wasn’t just hate anymore. It was fear. The " fans " were relentless. They told him to end it with you before things got worse. They said if he cared about his career, he would choose them over you. They said you weren’t good enough for him, and that you would bring him down.

And then the worst part came.

The messages you received. The ones that told you to leave him. The ones that told you to disappear. They weren’t just cruel; they were dangerous. They said they knew where you lived. They said they knew everything about you.

Your life became a nightmare.

You wanted to fight back, to scream at them that they didn’t know you, that you weren’t some kind of villain. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t risk his safety. You couldn’t risk your own.

And in the quietest, darkest part of your heart, you knew what was coming. You knew this couldn’t go on.

It was the night after a particularly ugly comment had gone viral. Jeongin called you. His voice was low, almost robotic, as if he had rehearsed these words a thousand times in his head.

“Y/N, we need to talk.”

You already knew what he was going to say.

“I think... it’s best if we end this,” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

Your chest tightened. You had been expecting it. You had known it was coming. But hearing him say the words felt like a knife twisting in your heart.

“No,” you whispered. “Please, Jeongin. We can’t just let them win. We’ll figure this out. We can make it through.”

He was silent for a moment. And then, you heard the deep, painful exhale of a man who was already broken inside.

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N. I can’t see you like this. You’re scared all the time. You’re hurting, and it’s because of me. You don’t deserve this. You deserve peace. You deserve a life that isn’t filled with hate and threats.”

Your tears began to fall silently, as if your heart knew the end was coming even before your mind could process it.

“Jeongin,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I don’t care about the hate. I care about you. You’re worth every bit of pain. I just want to be with you.”

He was crying now, and his voice was barely audible as he responded, “I love you so much, Y/N. I always will. But the truth is… I’m not enough to keep you safe. I can’t protect you from this. I can’t let you drown in a world that doesn’t care about you the way I do.”

Your world felt like it was crumbling. All of the love you shared, all the quiet moments, the dreams you had together—they were slipping through your fingers, and you couldn’t stop it.

“Please… don’t ask me to walk away,” you begged, your heart breaking with every word. “I can’t do this without you.”

But he was already shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. You’re everything to me, but I can’t be the reason you lose yourself.”

There was no more fight in him. No more hope in his eyes. Just sorrow. Just resignation.

And so, you did what you had to do. You said goodbye. The words felt empty as they left your lips. They were hollow, unable to fill the space between you two, because the truth was, neither of you wanted this. Neither of you wanted to let go.

“I’ll never forget you,” he whispered, his voice broken. “I promise.”

You wanted to say the same, but it was too much. The tears clouded your vision as you turned away, walking out of his life with the weight of everything you couldn’t change.

And as you walked away, all you could hear was the echo of his broken heart, calling your name in the distance.

[lucysarah-c]

I'll just say, I may be here posting about Mounting Spring, asks etc... But I'm cooking... I'm cooking something everyone asked me for lol

“I like this! This 3D flower pattern is so on trend right now.”

Levi’s eyes were glued to the screen as a freshly painted nail was shown up close.

“Oh, hi! Thank you,” her voice popped up again, and like an animal in pure confusion, he tilted his head to the side.

What are those things popping up? He was completely lost.

“Isn’t it too late for coffee?” she read aloud before grabbing her cup and taking a sip from the straw. “There’s no such thing as too much black or too late for coffee. Plus, it’s girls’ night! What’s a girls’ night without iced coffee or a glass of wine?”

This feels wrong now, Levi thought, taking a sip of his own drink, lazily sprawled on his bed. But when she started showing off her pajamas, that’s when he lost it.

Holy shit... it’s the little shorts doing it for me.

“This is why kids these days have their eyes glued to this shit,” he muttered, almost offended— as if his own mouth wasn’t slightly open and his eyes weren’t stuck to the screen as she vibed to the song playing in the background.

“Have you ever tried… this one?” She winked at the camera, arm in the air, hips moving in a way that Levi quickly guessed was meant to simulate riding. Over the kitchen island.

…I’m definitely not better than a 12-year-old boy.

The chat flooded with messages about how much they loved the song.

Whose song is this?

“Oh! I love that! Ugh, my heart is divided, I want all of them to win! Birds of a Feather is so good, but Hot to Go?” she gushed, listing more names Levi didn’t recognize.

Who are those?

“And the dance?”

What trend? What song? What dance?

Levi felt lost. Completely lost.

“Oh, thank you for the donation! Here, a heart for you!”

She pressed two fingers together in the shape of a heart. Levi tilted his head again, frowning.

How the hell is that a heart?

But before he could keep questioning his entire existence—or, perhaps, his age—her expression shifted. The usual bright smile faded as she read something from the chat.

“Look, if you’ve got a problem with me, just keep scrolling, buddy. Can an admin ban him from the stream, please?”

That made Levi do the exact opposite. He scrolled up through the rapidly moving chat until he found the comment in question. Some idiot had said she owed it to him if something happened because of what she was wearing and doing on screen.

“What’s your fucking problem, dude?” Levi whispered, clicking his tongue. “If a woman has never even touched you, don’t say it so loudly.”

His fingers moved on their own, pressing the guy’s username, looking for a way to reply—until he suddenly let the phone drop onto his chest and stared at the ceiling.

“I need to calm down,” he muttered. Being in this live stream was already too much for him. Getting into an online argument was not the way to go.

How long had he been watching? He wasn’t sure. But in that time, he’d learned that ASMR meant tapping on objects with freshly done nails and whispering, that people voted on live which designs she should do next, and… a whole lot more.

“Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know. That’s me, espresso…”

She sang along to the music, and he felt hypnotized.

“…Did I just spend two hours of my life on this?”

The “Love ya!” came through the speakers as she blew a final kiss before ending the live.

“For fuck’s sake…” Levi muttered, almost offended. “You can’t be that stupidly cute.”

Maybe pop songs were popular for a reason. Maybe that’s why Levi never downloaded any apps on his phone or used it for anything beyond strictly necessary texts. Because explain to him why the hell he was humming at work.

“Since when do you know Sabrina Carpenter?”

Hange appeared out of nowhere, catching him off guard.

Levi had to come up with an excuse. Fast.

“What? Is it illegal for me to know new songs?”

“No…” Hange dragged the word out, squinting at him in suspicion. “But since when do you?”

“Give me a break. I’m not that old. I can get to know new artists,” he brushed it off while brewing himself a tea.

Hange let it slide, but their mind was already working, scheming. They kept talking, mostly about work. But as Levi finished his tea and was ready to leave, Hange casually dropped:

“Espresso?”

Levi frowned. “What?”

Hange repeated the question immediately, as if he hadn’t heard them the first time. But of course, he had.

“Fuck no. You know I hate coffee. Black tea,” he grumbled.

To his shock, Hange chuckled, shaking their head, biting their lip as they held back a knowing smile.

“Aww, Shortie… don’t give yourself away.”

“Huh?”

“Espresso. That’s the song you were humming.” Their grin widened. “I’m starting to think you’re not just listening to new artists—you’re watching new people.”

Levi stiffened.

And for the first time, he couldn’t hide the subtle embarrassed blush creeping up his face.

“Get off my ass,” he muttered, already walking away.

But Hange wasn’t done.

“And I think it might be Erwin’s cute little influencer friend!”

I won't say anything else, let the readers figure it out.

[oharaslove]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝓉.𝟤

Summary: The story of Miguel's first and only love, you. A passage through the most significant moments of your relationship.

Tags/Warnings: pre!Spiderman Miguel x Civilian!Reader + Spider!Miguel x Civilian!Reader, fem!reader, fluff, smut (Minors don't interact, please)

Word count: 8k

Note: This is part 2 of a request!! I think you can read this as a one shot, but it would be better if you read the previous part (linked below). I also recommend listening to "Sugar"-Sleep Token, It is so good (mainly in the 'you know' scene).

<<Part1 || masterlist ||

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷

After realising how he felt about you, Miguel tried to take a little distance. He was scared. Terrified even. He had never felt this. Never felt the need to, the urge, to make someone his.

 And that was what scared him. He was a total loser, how could someone like you want something with him?. You were perfect in his eyes, and he was far from it. You were probably experienced too, which he wasn’t. Miguel’s insecurities were at all time high. 

Besides, he couldn’t get the comments you had made the first time you met out of his head. You hated or at least disliked Valentine's day. So did he, not long ago. Damn, how things changed. 

Six months ago he dreaded the question: ‘There is someone special in your life?’, but now… 

You appeared in every thought. Your face materialised in the most random moments. If someone were to ask him that question today, his immediate answer would be yes, grinning from ear to ear. He would jump at any opportunity to talk about you.

Not every thought was happy, though. Miguel imagined countless scenarios where he came forward, pouring his heart out to you, and you didn’t feel the same way. Negative assumptions clouded his head day and night, leaving an empty feeling in his chest. He didn’t want to think about them, but there was always a voice on the back of his head tearing him down to pieces. Telling him he didn’t deserve you. He wasn’t enough. He would never be. 

His feelings were growing bigger and bigger, despite his attempts to keep them down. His chest would explode at any minute if he didn’t let them go. The words at the edge of his tongue, begging to come out. Every time he was close to you, so close he could smell your scent, which drove him crazy, he felt like throwing up. The air would be pushed out of his lungs every time you smiled at him. You stared at him with those beautiful eyes, fueling the idea that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same. 

That there was a possibility. 

It didn’t help that, due to the advances on both of your researches, you had to stay more time in the lab. Meaning, it was just the two of you, for hours on end. Many would say it was the perfect opportunity, but what if you said no? What if you secretly hated him? What if–

“Miguel?” you asked gently, moving closer to where he was standing. He had been staring off at the wall for at least five minutes, unmoving. He was barely blinking, and his hands were sweaty. “Are you okay?” you continued, moving even closer. 

Miguel instinctively took a step back, creating distance between the two of you. You were intoxicating. He shut his eyes hard, trying to clear his thoughts. While doing so, he missed the hurt look over your face. 

“Yeah, I… I am fine, don’t worry” he whispered. He clutched the edge of the table. Come on Miguel, take a grip on yourself. 

“Are you…, are you sure? You don’t look okay” You fidgeted with the hem of your sweater.

“Yes” he huffed. His breathing became more erratic. Miguel dropped his head, eyes remaining shut, hoping to block you off. 

But he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t tell you how much you affected him, even though he wished to. All he wanted was to hug you, make you feel how you made him feel. But no. He couldn’t. Shouldn’t. 

“Did I…” you began, your voice trembling. “Did I do something wrong?”. You sniffed, making Miguel open his eyes immediately and look at you. 

You were looking down. Tears streaming down your cheeks, despite your efforts to keep them at bay. Your hands, barely visible, pull at the end of your sweater, making yourself smaller. Trying to hide. 

Shit. “No no no” Miguel whispered, hurriedly walking towards you. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to hug you, but would that be alright? Or, should he just go for a supportive hand to the shoulder? So, that’s what he did. “You.. you did nothing wrong. Hey, please. Look at me” he mumbled, barely audible. Thankfully, he was closer than he realised. His mouth only inches away from the crown of your head. He was basically towering over you. 

You looked up. Teary eyes locking into his. Trembling lips mumbling incoherent things, a lot of ‘sorrys’ and ‘please’. Miguel’s heart broke. He had done this. Him. No one else. He was so focused on his own feelings, on not getting hurt, that he didn’t realise how his actions were affecting you.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Miguel cooed, drawing figures with his thumb on your shoulder. Hand, that he noted, you hadn’t pushed away nor seemed uncomfortable about.  

You leaned into his touch. Your cheek grazing his hand, never breaking eye contact. Miguel’s eyes traveled from focusing on one eye to the other, to your nose, your mouth, everything. He wanted to memorize your face in case this was the end. While doing so, ever so lightly, his hand drifted upwards, caressing your cheek, without realising. 

You closed your eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling. His hands were sweaty, but he was warm, and he smelled nice. Your breath slowed down, calming yourself. You nuzzled your cheek further. She’s adorable, Miguel thought, lost in how ethereal you were. His body moving on its own.  

Miguel's eyes went wide. A moment of clarity letting him be aware of his actions. He wanted to retreat his hand, stop touching you, but at the feeling of the slight pull movement from his hand, yours instinctively wrapped around his wrist gently, keeping him there. 

You opened your eyes slowly. Small droplets of water hanging from your lashes. Your eyes searched his, a message clear on them. Stay. “Please” you begged. Your words vibrated against his skin. Your cheek squeezed against his hand. Your eyes big, like a puppy begging for treats. 

Miguel left out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. His shoulders instantly relaxed. The worried lines on his face dissipated, and a small smile pulled at the edge of his lips. He didn’t want to leave, he would stay how and where you wanted for eternity. All you had to do was ask. 

He had a feeling this was the night, and the conversation wasn’t going to be short. So, better get comfortable. 

 “Come, sit” he said, retreating his hand slowly, trying not to startle you, before slightly bending down to grab the nearest stool behind you. He gently placed his hands against your shoulders guiding you down. 

You sat down, putting your feet on the bar and tugging them closer to your chest. Placing your chin on top of your knees. Miguel sat down in front of you, leaving a decent space between the two. 

Your eyes were still glassy from crying. Miguel felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. That someone being himself. He clenched his fists over his legs, grabbing the material of his trousers. How could he be so stupid?. 

¿Qué mierda me está pasando? Miguel muttered looking down. He was losing his head. (What the hell is happening to me)

“Are you sure you are okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, even though it was barely audible. Did he just say that aloud? His eyes shot to yours. You were curious, he could tell, and also scared. Of him, for him? He couldn’t tell, which made him anxious.

“I am sorry if I ever crossed the line” you continued, seeing that he wasn’t responding. “I-” You dropped your arms and placed your feet on the floor, getting more comfortable in the stool, breaking eye contact while doing so. 

“It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable.” You rubbed your face, cleaning the tears and pushing back the hair stuck on your cheeks. You looked down, placing your hands together over your legs. “I just thought that,” you shrugged your shoulders. “you liked me”. You looked up slowly, biting your lip. Your face  was a little turned away, looking at him softly, eager, but also scared by the response. 

Miguel’s eyes opened like plates. Like you? Like, like like you? He was stunned. Miguel couldn’t believe his ears. You liked him! This was the greatest moment of his–

“Or maybe it was all in my head, I don’t know” you continued, turning around on the stool, giving your back to him while you hugged yourself. Asshole. How long were you silent for?

“NO!” he shouted. His first instinct was to stand up and get closer to you. “No,” he said more calmly, collecting himself. 

You turned around slowly. Fresh new tears adorning your face. Slowly, but surely, Miguel reached for your cheek. His fingers made contact with your skin, immediately feeling your warmth. As soon as he felt you lean into it, he applied pressure caressing you, wiping the tears away. 

“I’m sorry.” He began. “I… I am a loser” Miguel scanned your face. He couldn’t back out now. 

“You don’t–” you wiped the side of your face with the back of your sleeve, still leaning onto his hand. ”Don’t seem like one to me” You placed your hand on top of his, melting into his touch.

“Maybe, but I am” He sighed, looking at your face. You were so beautiful. He needed to sit down. He could feel his whole body trembling. Miguel was nervous. Even more nervous than when he interviewed for Alchemax. He looked back, spotting the forgotten stool. He wasn’t leaving your touch again, so he reached with his foot and pulled it towards him. 

He sat down, much closer now, your legs brushing against each other. The proximity was exhilarating. He could smell your perfume. Feel your warmth under the palm of his hand. He could see the way your chest went up and down from your breathing. How your lashes gently touched the top of your cheeks every time you blinked. 

Miguel was charmed by you. If you told him you were a witch who had cast a spell on him, he would believe it. No doubt in his mind. 

Focus Miguel, he thought. This was a golden opportunity, and he couldn’t let it slip away. His eyes landed on his hand, gently stroking the skin of your cheek. You were so soft and warm. Miguel could feel your eyes staring at him, but he couldn’t look at them. Not now. He needed time to be bolder, to build the guts to pour his heart out to you. 

“Miguel” you whispered. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I understand.”

Miguel moved his hand, breaking away from your grasp. He moved down the curvature of your face. The back of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their way. He grabbed your chin gently, his thumb centimeters away from your lips. Hovering. Oh, how he wished he had the experience. The bravery. The audacity to just dive in and capture your lips with his. Say everything with his mouth that words couldn’t express. Tangle his tongue with yours instead of it tangling with the thoughts running through his head.

“I am a loser” he repeated, more serious this time. His focus remained on your lips. “I don’t know how to do this.” he confessed, his thumb finally making contact with the pout that had formed in your face. They were soft. They looked so kissable. He traced the shape of your mouth lightly, before using his fingers under your chin to angle your face towards his. 

His eyes finally gazed into yours. Your cheeks were redder now, skin warmer. “I’ve never done this” He whispered, inching closer. “All I know–” he gulped, looking down again, to your lips. “is that you drive me crazy. I like you, I really do”. Your noses were now brushing together. His breath fanning over your cheeks, gently moving your lashes.

His lips hovering over yours, too scared to make the final move. 

“Miguel” you pleaded, looking at him from your hooded eyes. Your mouth slightly agape. He looked up to your eyes again. There was a pause. Neither of you dared move. 

The tension was palpable in the air. Both your breaths united. Words weren’t needed in this moment, only actions. His eyes sent you a silent plea. A question. Permission to do what he wanted the most. You nodded softly, and that is all it took for him to take the leap. 

Miguel’s lips crush into yours softly. You closed your eyes, melting into his touch, and so did he. Your lips were softer than he had felt with his hands. He had done it! He was kissing you. But now, in the act, he didn’t know how far he could go. Miguel’s hand on your cheek froze, he was cupping your face lightly, but his grip faltered. 

You pulled back softly, creating distance. Miguel chased you with his lips, not wanting to let go yet. You giggled, as you moved back, staring at his cute face. It was all red and warm. His lips slightly parted, letting out puffs of air out. 

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, blinking, as in a trance. Miguel was met with your smile, that pretty smile he learnt to cherish and to look forward to. 

“It’s okay” you whispered, taking both of his hands and placing them in your waist. You shifted closer, the stool screeched against the floor. Your legs parted a little, leaving enough space for one of his own to settle there. 

You placed the palms of your hand over his chest. Your eyes trailed from his chest, to his neck, until your gazes met again. “I trust you.” you smiled. You dove back again, this time showing more confidence. 

As soon as your lips brushed against his, Miguel’s heart skipped a beat. Your hands travelled from his chest to his neck, while his were still locked around your waist. Every thought that miraculously was still in Miguel’s head, flew out of the window. All he could register was you.

 All of you. 

The way your lips brushed and pushed against his. How they slightly parted, little amounts of air leaving them, making contact against his skin. The way your hands were now playing with the curls on the back of his neck, twirling them around your fingers. Miguel groaned. The taste of you becoming unbearable. He needed more. 

Hopefully, you understood. Miguel felt your tongue against his lips, before granting you access. As the kiss deepened, the tension on his body dissipated. He could feel your hands playing with his hair, loosening his muscles. 

As every second passed, Miguel grew more confident. 

First, he squeezed your waist, testing. He didn’t want to overstep, but at the same time, he needed more. He wanted to feel your skin on his. Pull noises out of you, created by his touch. 

His hands moved up, stopping below your breasts. His thumbs slightly grazed under them. You inhaled sharply, surprised, but glad he was loosening. You too wanted him to explore more, to take you. To make you his. 

While one of his hands stayed there, squeezing and drawing figures over your sweater, the other detached from your body, before making contact with your arm. He squeezed your forearm, before tracing your arm and reaching your neck. 

Miguel grabbed your neck, taking control of the kiss. He angled you just the way he wanted, giving him more access to explore your mouth. You groaned, the vibrations traveling through Miguel’s fingers.  He pressed his thumb against your throat, the kiss becoming more passionate. 

You pulled at his hair, his sweater, everything your hands could grasp to keep him close, to pull him even closer. Miguel was feeling lightheaded, his breathing becoming more ragged, but he didn’t want to stop. He had had a taste of you, and he didn’t know if he was ready to stop. 

Every sound he coaxed out of you made him more confident. He was obsessed, as if he wasn’t already. Every caress, each touch without an exception your hands made on his body drove him nuts. His lungs were beginning to scream at him for air, so were yours, but neither made an attempt to pull back. You were in a fever dream, and you didn’t want it to stop. 

Miguel’s body was on fire. The kiss became sloppy, teeth clicking against one another. The lab wasn’t silent anymore, your breaths were heavy, both of you panting, an occasional moan erupted from you, making Miguel groan as a response every time. 

He knew if he continued, he would do things he would regret. Not entirely because of the action, but because of the timing. You were his first, he didn’t want to fuck up. He needed to go slow. 

Miguel reluctantly pulled back from the kiss. He rested his forehead on yours, his hand still around your neck, his thumb caressing your warm, and slightly sweaty skin. Both of your chests going up and down, catching your breaths. He could feel the warm air exiting your mouth hit his face, making him smile. It wasn’t a dream, you were right there, in front of him, touching him, melting under his touch. 

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, squinting, not comfortable with the now really bright light of the lab. You had been kissing for what felt like hours, his eyes had been shut all the time, basking in the feeling. 

He found you staring back at him through your lashes. A grin formed on your face once you two made eye contact. Miguel’s expression mirrored yours, he was ecstatic. His hands moved up your neck, towards your cheek, drawing figures there as well. 

“So..” you began, leaning into his touch. Your voice was a little hoarse. Gosh, you sounded so sexy. You bit your lip, looking down a little, towards Miguel’s lips. “Does this mean you like me too?” 

Miguel laughed, his whole body shaking. You giggled as well, breaking the tension on your body and in the room. Miguel cupped both sides of your face, before bringing you in for a quick peck, and a kiss to your forehead and nose. 

He pulled back, admiring you. Your smiley face squished against his hands. “Yes” he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing visible, just melting into you, feeling drawn to you. Nothing else mattered. 

The lab fell silent, you both just staring at each other. It was comforting, the feelings being out in the air. Reciprocated feelings. You liked him, and he liked you. Nothing could go wrong from now on. 

That moment of clarity made an idea pop on Miguel’s head. “So… are you free tomorrow?”

𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰

Your first date was ethereal. Miguel had decided he didn’t want to go to a restaurant, or be near people in general, knowing that both you and him preferred to be private. Instead, he arranged a nice picnic with a beautiful view. 

You had the time of your lives. Miguel had never felt so care free and light. His heart was content and he felt on cloud nine every time you laughed, you smiled at him, or kissed him. Mostly when you giggled into your kisses, he thought you were adorable, and he didn’t know how he could say goodbye to you everyday. He needed to be with you 24/7, although he knew it was best for you both to have some alone time. Don’t move too fast now Miguel, Jesus.

Three months had passed since you two confessed your feelings in the lab. Three whole months of stealing kisses from each other, dates every week, seeing each other at the lab every day, being so close that Miguel couldn’t remember his life before you. How had he lived so long without you by his side?

Miguel couldn’t believe that at first he worked by himself in the lab. You two were like one, working around each other like it was second nature. Stolen touches here and there. You wrapping your hands around his waist from the back, leaving kisses, melting his heart and still, making him blush, despite all the months of dating. 

Unfortunately, today you had a meeting elsewhere. Meaning, Miguel was alone. He was feeling a little under the weather, he didn’t like being away from you. The routine you both had broken for a day. Thanks to his mind not being present one hundred percent, he had missed how one of his co-workers messed with his machine, causing the accident. 

Miguel had been experimenting with DNA fusions, something you knew about. This particular moment, he was curious if he could split his own (you clearly weren’t there to tell him it was a stupid idea). He had no clue what he had gotten himself into, nor what his coworker had done. All he knew is that, after surviving the experiment, he felt different. Changed. 

Miguel had always been a tall, muscular guy. But, he felt stronger, more powerful. He squinted his eyes, the artificial light in the lab hurting his eyes. Weird. He was fine just some minutes ago. He went to shut the lights. When his fingers made contact with the switch, he broke it, an abnormal strength surging from his body. 

He felt wrong, he wanted to throw up. At that moment, all he could think about was you. Miguel rushed towards his things, throwing everything aside looking for his phone. Once he had it in his hands, the eyes staring back at him in the reflection of the black screen weren’t familiar. They weren’t his usual brown ones, they were red. He dropped the phone in shock, the screen shattering in pieces. 

Miguel was pissed, causing a set of talons to emerge from his fingertips, scaring him off. What am I? What should I do? What would you think? He crumpled to the ground, shaking. What was he supposed to do? You couldn’t see him like this, he couldn’t lose you. He picked up the remains of his phone, before quickly gathering all his belongings and rushing to his flat. He needed time to think, he needed to be away from people. He needed to be away from you. He couldn’t let you witness the monster he had become.

A few days went by, Miguel had had no contact with you. He didn’t go to work, he didn’t answer his phone. Nothing. Clearly, you grew worried. He had never pulled a stunt like this before. Reason why, you were now standing outside his flat door. 

“Miguel?” you called, after knocking the door a few times. No answer. “Miguel please, I know you are in there” you pleaded, worry evident in your voice. 

Miguel was pacing left to right in his living room, in front of the door. He didn’t want you to see him, but he could tell you were worried. He hated making you something else that wasn’t happy. The dilemma was making his head hurt, the light coming through the windows wasn’t helping. During the days he had been hiding, he noticed his senses had been amplified. His eyes were ten times more sensitive to the lights.

You continued banging on the door. Tears were now running down your face.

“Miguel please,” you hiccuped, each breath was harder to take in. “Please, I don’t know what I did wrong. But please, let me in. We can talk about–”

At that moment, Miguel opened the door. He couldn’t stand hearing you cry any longer. You sobbed, launching yourself to him. Your arms landing around his waist, your face burying in his broad chest. 

Miguel’s arms stayed in the air, not wanting to touch you. What if his talons came out and he hurt you? He wouldn’t bear it. Seeing your wet and flushed face from the crying was torture enough. 

You cried a little more into his chest, creating a small patch of water in his shirt. You pulled yourself together, detaching yourself from him, allowing Miguel to close the door.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from sobbing. 

You had tear stains all over your cheeks. Miguel made an attempt to caress your face, wiping them away, but he froze in the middle. He pulled his hand back. He inhaled loudly,  shutting his eyes and making fists with his hands, before turning around and going to sit on the couch. 

You stood there, a frown in your face. What had you done for him to be so mad about you?. 

“Mig?” you mumbled, too scared to make sudden moves. 

Miguel groaned, rubbing his face between his face. You approached him slowly, barely making a sound. You watched him quietly, deciding what to do. As there was no reaction, you sat down, leaving some space between you two. You reached towards him, placing a hand over his arms. 

Miguel flinched away, making you retract your arm and look down to the floor. 

“I’m sorry” you began, trying to not break down. You sniffled, you could feel the tears already forming in your eyes. “I don’t know what I did, but I am sorry”. 

Miguel ran his hands through his hair, pulling a little. He didn’t want you to blame yourself. You had done nothing wrong! But he also didn’t know how to tell you what he was. 

“You,” he began, not looking at you. “You did nothing wrong”

“Then why?” You shifted your body, facing towards him. “Why have you been avoiding me? I thought we… I thought we were doing great.” The last words were barely audible. 

“We were… we are!” he corrected himself, now facing you, but not quite catching your eye. 

You played with your fingers in your lap, resisting the urge to reach for him. “Then… why?” You looked at him expectantly, searching for his gaze. 

Miguel hesitated. He played with the material of his sweatpants. He bit his lip, his knee going up and down. He needed to tell you. Either way, this relationship was over. If he didn’t tell you, you would break up with him because who would date someone who hides everyday in their flat? And if he told you… Well, you would probably freak out, call him a monster and walk away. Both outcomes pointed to heart break. 

“I– I can’t do this” he placed his head between his hands and started to cry.

Your heart broke. You didn’t understand what was wrong, but you hated to see Miguel so sad, angry and frustrated, all at the same time. 

“Shhh it’s okay” you scooched closer, hesitating to place a comforting hand on his back, but deciding to do so anyway. 

Miguel flinched at the contact at first, but later melted into you. He leaned into you, before collapsing in your lap. He curled himself into you, his big body retracting to feet on the couch and into you. 

You wanted to cry just from the sight. You rubbed his arms lovingly, trying to calm him down. Miguel was shaking, sob after sob cursing through his body. He mumbled incoherent stuff. Strings of ‘I’m sorrys’ and something along the lines of monster. You didn’t know, nor care. All you wanted was for him to calm down, you wanted your baby to be okay. 

After a few minutes, Miguel regained composure. He could breathe normally. Your warmth was soothing. The way you run your hands through his hair, caress his cheeks, tracing his sharp cheekbones. Lifting his shirt up a little so you could run your nails down his back.

For a moment, he forgot why he was so worried. You had done this countless times, you were his safe space. He could trust you. He needed to believe you wouldn’t leave him.

Miguel placed his feet on the floor, lifting himself off you. He wiped the tears with the back of his hands, before making eye contact with you, for the first time in days. He saw all the worry lines in your face, making his heart clench. Miguel could see your sad expression, a pout in your lips. Your gazes locked, and your eyes widened. 

“Miguel! Your eyes” You reached forward, placing your hands at each side of his head, examining further. 

“I know, that’s part of the problem”

“What happened?!”

Miguel explained to you in detail what happened the day you weren’t in the lab. And, after that, he gave you a demonstration of what he had learned. He stood up and showed you his talons, as well as his fangs. Both retractable. 

You sat there, shocked, while Miguel stood in place, watching you carefully, fully expecting you to shout “Freak!” and storm out. 

You gathered your thoughts, and stood up slowly. Miguel took a sharp breath in. He was terrified. 

“Miguel” you began, looking him straight in the eye. You still had that loving stare in your eyes, that is a good sign he thought. 

You walked closer, and when you were at arms reach of him, you slapped his arms, with all your force. 

“OUCH!”

“How dare you!?” you shouted. “Do you know how scared I was?. I thought you were dead. Dead!” You grabbed the roots of your hair and pulled, now pacing from left to right in front of Miguel, while he rubbed the spot where you had hit him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have helped you figure this out!” You threw your hands in the air, mumbling some more things, a few curse words and some other things Miguel didn’t know if they were for his ears or for yours. 

“I thought… well, maybe you would call me a monster and leave” He mumbled the last part, feeling ashamed. 

That made you stop in your tracks, snapping your head towards him. 

“Leave?” you whispered in disbelief. “Leave?” You repeated slightly louder. “In what world would I live? Oh you are so fucking oblivious. I would rather die than leave you, you asshole. I love you, and I–”

“You love me?” Miguel cut you off. His eyes opened like plates, an alarm going off in his head. 

You froze in place too, realising what you had just said. 

“I–” you gulped. “I do. I love you”

Miguel smiled. A toothy grin from ear to ear. He rushed towards you, lifting you in the air and spinning you around, not a care in the world if you bumped something. He hugged you tightly, burying his head in your neck. Once he placed you back on the ground, he grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. 

“I love you too.” he sighed. “Te amo” He pressed his forehead against yours. 

You smiled, and hit his chest playfully. “Don’t you ever pull a stunt like this ever again. You hear me?” 

“Si mi vida. Perdón” He kissed the top of your head before enveloping you in his arms. 

“I love you” you mumbled against his chest. You truly did.

Miguel was going crazy. You had been teasing him all day long. Slight touches here, caresses there. Pressing your whole body flushed against his. You were driving him insane, more than he already was. He couldn’t wait to get to his flat and let you have him, because he had to be honest with himself. He didn’t have a clue of what was going to go down. 

Yes, he had done research. But that doesn’t mean anything. Besides, he knows that things like porn aren’t realistic, so he had a rough idea, but not quite. 

The end of the work day couldn’t come fast enough. Once it was over, you guys went to a nice dinner place, had fun, enjoyed some nice food, before deciding to go back to his place.

Miguel’s leg was bouncing up and down in the car. He was nervous, and you could tell. You placed your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to where he needed you the most. 

“It’s okay Mig. We don’t have to–”

“No!” he cut you off, way too eager. “I want to.”

“Okay” you rubbed his thigh affectionately, leaving your hand there for the rest of the ride home. 

As soon as you stepped into his flat, Miguel’s lips were on your own. Sloppy, needy, warm. His hands roamed your body, tearing away the outer layers, dropping them to the floor. You doing the same with his. 

He walked you backwards into his room, never detaching his lips from yours. You bumped a couple things on the way, but neither of you cared. Once you reached the bedroom, you turned you both around, pushing Miguel towards the bed. 

His legs hit the edge of the bed, landing on it on his back. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his lap. You ran your hands over his body, from the hem of his trousers to his neck, while Miguel’s hands landed on your waist. You bent over, your chests touching, your faces centimeters away from each other. 

“Are you sure?” you asked. 

“Yes” Miguel breathed out, before grabbing the back of your head and slamming your lips together. 

The kiss got heated. Tongues exploring each others mouth, while hands explored bodies. Your whole wait was on top of Miguel, but he didn’t care. You began moving your hips, creating friction. Your center was on top of Miguel’s hard on, the only thing separating your core from him being your panties. 

Your dress had rode up over your thighs, exposing more skin for Miguel to squeeze and touch. He groaned into the kiss, the movement of your hips driving him crazy, but he needed more. His hands planted themselves in your waist, guiding your movement. Once in a while, one would sneak down to grab a handful of your ass, giving it a pinch, resulting in a moan from you. 

Your kisses moved down, kissing along his jaw, down to his neck. You sucked the skin into your mouth. Miguel inhaled shakily.

“Amoor” he grunted. 

 You smiled into his neck, biting and nipping a little more before moving down his chest. You undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing the majestic skin underneath. He had some scars thanks to being Spiderman, but he was beautiful. You could see how his muscles moved with every breath he took. 

You kissed down the middle of his chest, over his sternum. Miguel arched his back towards your mouth, enjoying the feeling. You bite down, and nipped, tracing the scars with your tongue. You moved down, parting his legs, before sinking down to your knees, your eyes in level with the tent on his trousers.

You could already tell, he was big. You could see the outline over the material. Miguel used his elbows to lift himself off the bed, getting a better view of you. You pecked his dick over his pants, gazing up at him. Miguel swallowed hard.

You massaged him on top of his pants, getting Miguel used to the feeling. He groaned, closing his eyes momentarily, but opened them when he felt you undoing his belt. He snapped his eyes open, staring at you.

“Is this okay?”

“Ye– yes” he stuttered. 

You smiled at him, before continuing your actions. After a few seconds, you freed his cock out of its confinements, pulling his pants and underwear down. It hit the bottom of Miguel’s stomach, standing proud in front of you. 

You licked your lips, staring at him, already salivating by just the sight. 

“Is it okay?” Miguel asked, breaking you from your thoughts.

“It’s perfect” you answered, and as to show him, you wrapped your hand around his tip, spreading the precum already there. 

Miguel threw his head back, your hands felt way better than his own. 

You continued to stroke him slowly, up and down. Your thumb massaging his tip, pressing at the head over his slit. Miguel was breathing heavily now, uneven. His thighs began to shake. 

You wetted your lips, and continuing your hand movements, kissed his tip, tasting the salty precum. You spit on him, before wrapping your mouth over his head, beginning to match your hand movements with your head. 

Miguel tried to keep looking at you, but the warmth of your mouth and the way your tongue ran over his slit drove him mad. His elbows gave away, his back hitting the mattress again. He fisted his sheets on his hands, curse words leaving his lips. 

“Yess, Jesus, fuck” he moaned, spurring you on. 

With your free hand, you massaged his balls. Rolling the skin over between your fingers and squeezing them. You hollow your cheeks, sucking at his shaft. You took him as far as you could, his tip hitting the back of your throat, tears forming in your eyes. 

“Oh, God, yes” Miguel breathed out. He was feeling light headed, his skin sweaty, sticking to the sheets. He could feel a knot in his lower belly, almost at the point of bursting. 

You pulled back, taking a moment to breathe, but never stopping your hands. His tip was red, precum leaking from it. Tons of it. He was close, you could tell. He was lasting more than you would have thought, to be honest. 

“I’m closee” Miguel choked out. “Please” he begged, opening his eyes slightly to stare down at you.

You continued jerking him off. Your mouth going to his balls, sucking at them, before licking a stripe down the side, following the most prominent vein, reaching his tip. You gave a few kitten lips before putting it in your mouth again. Miguel’s head flew back, eyes shutting hard. 

He moaned your name over and over. Strings of “Yes, right there” “Fuck” and your name falling from his lips. All of a sudden, his vision went black. Cum spurted in your mouth, while you tried to swallow most of it. 

Miguel’s chest was heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath. He opened his eyes slowly, looking down at you, at the same moment you took his now softening cock out of your mouth, a string of saliva and cum still connecting the two. 

“Fuck” he mumbled. You looked so pretty. 

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smiling at him and winking. You stood up slowly, letting your dress fall off your shoulders leaving you only with your panties on. You pulled them down your legs, kicking them behind once they reached your feet. 

Miguel was star struck. He couldn’t believe you could be more perfect than you already were. But you could. Before him, he was seeing a goddess. He was about to be fucked by a goddess. 

You straddled his lap once more, now without any item of clothing between your skin. You could already feel his dick hardening again against you. Miguel’s hand flew to your neck, bringing you in for a heated kiss. You moaned into his mouth, moving your hips to create the much needed friction you craved. His cock rubbed against your clit with each movement. 

His hands explored the new skin available, being cautious at first, but growing bolder. He squished your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, even pinching them, making you groan into his mouth. He swallowed every sound you made, and so did you. 

You broke this kiss, running your nails down his chest, looking between your bodies. You needed him inside of you, and he wanted you to be around him. He wanted to feel all of you. 

“Condom?” You breathed out, pulling back the hairs stuck to the sweat of your forehead. 

“In the drawer,” Miguel answered.

You climbed down his body, for a split second Miguel missed your warmth, but before he could complain about it, you were already back, motioning him to get more comfortable in the bed, before seating back in his legs. You opened the squared package, pulling the condom out. 

You looked at it, and back at Miguel. “Are you really sure?”

Miguel nodded, the anticipation making his brain fuzzy. He didn’t think he could speak right now. 

You nodded, positioning yourself better. You stroke him a few times, before rolling the condom on. You lifted yourself up, using Miguel’s chest as support, while his arms flew to your waist to help you. You aligned his dick with your entrance. You were already wet from the anticipation and just making him come. He sounded so pretty, breaking under your touch. Cumming just for you, and only you. 

You rubbed his tip along your slit, tapping your clit a few times, before aligned it with your hole. You breathed in, before sinking slowly. He stretched you out so perfectly, it stinged a little, but it felt so good. 

Your mouth and Miguel’s fell open. It was so intense, finally being connected. You reached down, your hips flushed with his. Miguel’s nails were digging into your waist, while your hands squeezed his shoulders. 

You got used to his size before starting to move slowly, rocking your hips back and forth. Miguel let out a shaky breath, watching your movements. 

“Touch me” you purred, leaning over and taking his ear lob between your teeth, your breath tickling the side of his face. 

One of his hands stayed glued to your waist, while the other played with your breasts, alternating between the two. You nipped at his neck, leaving hickies and bite marks where no one could see them, only you. 

Miguel whined, he was enjoying the feeling, but he needed more. 

“Please, more” He begged, his hand squeezing harshly on one of your tits. 

You sat up straight, placing your hands flat on his chest for support. You lifted yourself up, leaving only half of his cock inside of you, before sinking back down. You both moaned at the same time, he felt so good inside of you. 

You kept doing that a couple more times, while Miguel forced himself to keep his eyes open, watching how his dick disappeared inside of you. Once you got used to it, you set up a rhythm, using Miguel’s chest and shoulders as support. Miguel’s hands went back to your waist, while his head flew back. His mouth was slightly open, groans and moans feeling up the room, combined with the sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Miguel’s sounds were turning you on so badly, you could barely concentrate. He grunted your name, moaned it so loudly you were sure even the neighbours could hear. You weren’t any better. His dick was hitting just the right places, stretching you out just the way you liked it. 

“Fu-Fuck” you stuttered, shutting your eyes. You were getting close, and so was Miguel, by the way his cock twitched inside of you. 

“Mig– I’m close” You cried out, the pace you had been setting faltering. 

“Me too” he said, through gritted teeth.

His hips had begun to lift from the mattress, meeting yours halfway, helping you reach both your orgasms. 

“Migg” you whimpered, slumping forward.

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, as much as he could. Your nails were digging on his shoulders, while he had a death grip on your waist. One of his hands caressed your stomach, disappearing between your bodies, his thumb making contact with your clit. You jolted forward, the stimulation overwhelming you. 

Miguel began drawing tight circles on the num, matching his and yours broken rhythm. He could feel you were closed, your pussy was squeezing his cock so good, getting him over the edge. 

“Beba” he mumbled, before throwing his head back and cumming inside of the condom, making you fall over the edge and come around him.

You collapsed on his chest, his thumb rubbing small figures still in your clit while you rock your hips in circles, coming down from your high. 

You stilled your hips, while Miguel his hand from between you, placing it in your back and rubbing it up and down, with the little power he had left. You stayed silent for a couple minutes, recovering. Both of your bodies covered in sweat, and the both of you with smiles over your face. 

You lifted your head slightly, placing your chin on his chest, looking at him. He looked so peaceful, breathing slowly from his nose, eyes closed. You pulled back a strand of hair stuck to his forehead, caressing his face with the back of your fingers. Miguel opened his eyes, his gaze falling on yours. 

“Hi!” You whispered, stroking his cheek. 

“Hi” he smiled, eyes tired, blinking slowly, like a child almost falling asleep.

“I love you Mig”

“Te amo, mi vida, y siempre lo haré” (I love you, my life, and I’ll always do)

<<Part1 || masterlist ||

Authors notes: AHHHH I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as the first one!!! Thanks for all the love 🥹☺️

I'm a little anxious or nervous about this one because of all the lovey dovey stuff (mainly the smut) but anyway, I really like how it turned out and I hope you do too!!! I had so much fun with this one.

It turned out to be sooo long!! Funny that I cut the first one because I thought that 2k was A LOT, and this is 8k. Oh well.

I may edit this a little later, cause I don't really know how to feel about the smut. I honestly wanted it to be longer. But maybe I'll do another part, or a side story featuring what I wanted (Basically, Miguel eating you out). Anyway, let me know what you guys think!! Be truthful, don't hold back!! You can tell me: "Never write Smut again" And I'll allow it.

Practice makes perfect I suppose, so the more I write about sex the more I should improve, right? But, well. I think it is good to be the second time.

Tags: @guilty-pleasures21 @boogiemansbitch @amberbalcom14

[syntheticavenger]

Bad Decisions - Six

A big thank you to the commenter who reblogged my little story and gave me the inspiration to write this piece again. I appreciate you so much!

We are at the end of this tale.

Please let me know if you like it and as always, if you were keeping up with this story throughout the years, I appreciate you reading and being apart of my little circle.

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, angst, language, HEAVY violence mentions, mentions of pregnancy, murder, a lot of death, angst, mentions of breeding kink.

Mob Boss Bucky Barnes x Right Hand Female Reader

Frank Adler x Right Hand Female Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary | Being Bucky’s right hand gets complicated when he decides to marry a girl from a questionable family that provides no answers to his decision, only more questions.

“It was you all along.”

The betrayal in his voice is strong, his hands up in the air as you follow behind him, hearing the muffled shouts of Dot who is tied up on the ground. You don’t spare her a second glance, the gun still trained on the back of his head as tears well in your eyes.

“What was I supposed to do, Barnes? Let you burn down your empire?”

He stops in his tracks to answer you.

“Yes.“

Gritting your teeth, you look over at Dot, her mascara caked and runny down her dirty cheeks. She’s been there long enough to know he plans on finishing the job, her hands and feet bound. True to his word, there’s not a scratch on her, just her terrified eyes on you, silently begging you to save her.

All you have for her is contempt, remembering how quickly things had fallen apart since she had arrived.

How much you and others have lost.

“Steve needs peace,” you continue. “You spill any more blood and he’ll have it.”

“Did he promise you that?” Bucky fires back, turning around to face you, both your hands gripping the gun as he takes a step closer.

“Don’t,” you demand.

“Steve said no more blood. Is this a bluff? You’ve killed for much less. And deep down, you know I’ll kill her if you don’t. Steve’s threat may be a promise but at least I’d see it through to the end.”

A tear slides down your cheek when you shake your head, trying to keep your cool. Still calm and collected on the surface, as Bucky tends to me, as if resigned to the fate that is in your hands.

“Why her?”

Your resolve is slipping, forcing yourself to focus on something other than his intense gaze.

”It was an expansion. Business,” Bucky says, looking over at Dot as she whimpers.

“Business,” you repeat. “Look where it got you.”

“That’ll happen when you let your guard down. But you didn’t, did you? You’d known all along, trying to warn me. You built your own expansion, turned yourself into a made woman,” he clarifies, looking back at you. “Frank’s proxy and Steve let it happen. That’s fucking poetic.”

He gives a sarcastic laugh, lowering his hands as he takes another step closer, the barrel pressing into his shirt.

“This is your final test, you know. Steve’s not dumb. You kill me and it’s all over. He gets his peace.”

“You could have left it alone. It’s too much loss.”

Cocking the hammer back, Bucky doesn’t move at your action.

“This could have gone another way,” you begin, another tear slipping down your cheek. “I hated it, every minute you were with her, knowing she was going to betray you and you pushed me aside because you knew best. Volstagg is dead, Pierce is going after Steve and it’s all because of your bad decisions. And it’s because I love you that I have to end this the way it should have ended.”

His eyes widen when the gun is turned toward Dot, the flash of the bullet in near slow motion as he calls out to you, anguish in his tone when another pull of the trigger drowns out the noise.

-

Steve looks out at the city skyline, his men in the background as he waits for a phone call. Loose ends should have been tied up already, his fingers gripping his glass in mild annoyance before the phone finally rings.

“Promise me you won’t hurt him,” your voice says on the other end, emotionless as Steve stills.

“He’s still alive?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t think you’d go through with it.”

”I did,” comes your reply. “Natasha will see to handling her body.”

Steve straightens at your words.

“I said no more blood on my doorstep. I’m sure you remember our little conversation, especially since it wasn’t that long ago. You spare him but finish the job,” Steve says, finishing the last of his drink as he rolls his shoulders. “It’s a pity, you know. I liked you. But as I said, I enjoy my peace.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you answer.

“You get no protection. Frank will stand down, Thor will stand down and if Bucky knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay out of this once and for all. I’ll give you a day to say your goodbyes. You can’t hide in this city, doll. I hope you know that.”

“Goodbye Steve.”

Steve smiles, leaning back into his chair as he checks his watch.

“See you soon.”

-

Sam watches Bucky button down his black jacket, armed to the team before he pulls on black leather gloves.

While it’s quiet inside Bucky’s compound, the streets are loud - practically buzzing with the news that you’re on borrowed time.

“You can’t think this is a good idea,” Sam says after a moment. “It’s a suicide mission. You don’t even know where she is. She’s off the grid.”

“And yet, they’re still talking,” Bucky reminds him, adjusting his jacket. “Pierce is still out there.”

“Then he takes care of her and then Pierce. Or Pierce and then her. Steve’s lost his mind.”

Bucky shrugs. His friend hasn’t lost his mind - he’s protecting his assets, something Bucky can understand. He watched one of his own slip through his fingers, your gun carefully placed in one of his holsters after you’d kissed him goodbye, pushing him away before he could register what was happening.

“Dot is gone,” Sam counters slowly. “Steve gets his peace and quiet.”

“He’s a man of his word. More blood spilled, he’s going to keep his promise.”

Sam shakes his head in denial.

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Bucky smiles brightly, smoothing back his hair for a moment. There’s a clarity he hasn’t felt in months, knowing his goal is clear.

“Then you take over,” Bucky says, turning on his heels to leave. “Like we talked about.”

“Bucky!” Sam says behind him. “You’re no better than her!”

-

The waves crash around your feet, the first stretches of dawn on the horizon, not a single soul in sight.

Yet.

You’d said your goodbyes, aware of how you’ve been tracked through the city. It’s laughable to think that Steve wouldn’t be invested in your every move - depressing to know that the mobster was a man of his word, sending you a countdown when you were down to twelve hours.

There’s something to be said about the way you’ve been treated. Where there was respect for Bucky’s name and influence, you have your own, doors opening for you and knowing looks where there used to be passing glances. You’ve stood your ground even in the face of impending death and you have no regrets.

If you don’t let yourself feel, it’s almost bearable, knowing your time is almost up. Frank, bucking tradition, has offered to get you out of the country, going against his cousin to keep you safe. Natasha, for her efforts, shed more than a few tears when you had said your goodbyes.

You don’t feel an ounce of remorse for pulling the trigger. Natasha had come quickly but Bucky had helped, something you found out later when the headlines mentioned Dot’s untimely death. A simply placed article, wrong time and wrong place meant that to the untrained eye, nothing was suspicious, no one was the wiser - poor Bucky Barnes who suffered so much loss would no doubt lick his wounds in private.

Nevermind that you had it set in your mind when the tears had come, months of anguish and angst, culminating in his literal confessions of wanting to expand.

You’d built her up, put her on a pedestal that she had never belonged on, Bucky behind the scenes dismantling everything he had done once the truth was exposed.

A truth you had brought to light.

A jogger catches the corner of your eye. An upscale neighborhood like this has no shortage of unsuspecting elite, wanting to get their first run of the day before the rest of the world.

You’ve banked on this.

Staked it out.

The silencer on your ghost gun fits smoothly, not another person in sight when you see him get closer, your back to him as he jogs past, mouthing the words to a song he’s listening to.

Within seconds, his body hits the pavement, your gaze on him only for a moment before the sun begins to rise, walking toward him as you put your gun away. You don’t stop when you walk, snapping a photo of the man before continuing on.

Six more hours left.

-

“You don’t make house calls,” Steve greets his longtime friend, coming down the stairs as he adjusts his cufflinks. “To what due do I owe this occasion?”

It has been too long, this much Bucky knows when he sees Steve. Marriage and impending fatherhood suits him, still armed to the teeth but his eyes show a kindness that makes him want to lower his guard.

“I can’t let you do this, Steve.”

“Are we negotiating?”

“Call it whatever you want. She did it for me.”

Steve finally smiles, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“Love does that to a person. Makes them empowered, makes them feel untouchable. Makes them come to my door to beg for forgiveness.”

Bucky laughs at Steve’s response.

“I’m not here to beg for forgiveness. I’m here to tell you that if you go after her, I’ll kill you.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at his threat. He seems slightly entertained at that fact, merely nodding.

“It’s a good strategy, posturing in my own home, Buck.”

“You said it yourself enough blood was spilled.”

Steve tilts his head to the side for a moment.

“And I wonder who started it? Couldn’t have been the loverboy himself? Drawing a line in the sand to make sure that the one who knew him best didn’t get close to the expansion that you were craving. How did that work out for you?”

“You don’t know how much I paid.”

“But I do,” Steve says, circling him slowly. “My own cousin installing her as his proxy, watching her wield her power over his men without a second thought. She took care of his business and for that, she’ll always have my respect. But this? This cat and mouse game over a goddamn family who came from nothing and back to the dust they came… a mild irritation lodged in the back of my mind. Until you wouldn’t let it go.”

Bucky swallows at the raw anger in Steve’s tone, his fingers rolling into tight fists in his black leather gloves.

“She did what she needed to do.”

“I’m sure she did. Got Thor riled up after Volstagg was killed and he threatened me. Not a good look for the Norseman,” Steve says with a sigh. “That’s still lingering somewhere up here in my head. What he’ll do when he’s back to his full strength. It’s bad enough his wife took charge and killed Helena right under his nose. He never saw it coming. More turf wars when all I asked for was peace. He thinks I had something to do with Helena, you know.”

Bucky knows Thor was pleasantly surprised his own wife could be as cold as he could be, knowing the backstory of everything Pierce had put her through.

But this isn’t about Thor.

It’s about you.

“So then the score was settled.”

“I’m a man of my word, Buck. I said no more blood spilled.”

Steve’s vibrates in his pocket, getting his attention as he pulls it out of his pocket to study it. He’s surprised, a look Bucky hasn’t seen in years. He stares at it for several moments until it rings, Steve answering it quickly.

”Thor.”

After a few moments of silence, Steve nods, smiling brightly as he turns to Bucky.

“Within the hour,” Steve says before hanging up.

-

Pierce hangs over the balcony of his seaside penthouse, blood pouring from his nose and running down his cheek to his eyes.

“Did you think… did you think you would see yourself like this?” Pierce asks with a strained laugh, the waves crashing below. “You call the shots now. Far cry from a… driver.”

“It ends with you and me,” you snarl.

“So we’re dead,” Pierce says with a sardonic laugh, looking at the water. “At least I won’t die alone.”

“I’ll give you a chance to repent,” you pause, Pierce quiet as he attempts to lift his head. You’ve injected him with a muscle relaxer, his body limp as he coughs.

“That’s all you’ll get from me,” he says, saliva dripping from his mouth. “Was it worth it? Knowing the truth and being ignored?”

You think for a moment, fingers gripping his belt.

“Yes.”

With a final pull, gravity takes over, Pierce plunging down onto the sea as you watch. A bullet to the brain was too merciful, watching the waves for a moment before turning back around.

Tears wet your cheeks, your fingers shakily wiping the evidence of your emotions away.

There’s no clean up. Not this time, Pierece’s home in disarray from the scuffle that had ensued. You don’t even check the time, knowing that the hour is drawing close.

You’ve said your goodbyes to Sam and Thor, despite Thor’s wife offering you protection that you had politely turned down.

It’s just you now, alone with your thoughts and the idea of how much blood you’ve spilled as Steve is on the way to make sure you’re finished.

It’s a fitting end, you think, knowing he’ll snuff out one life and welcome another in a few months. That’s the way of life, especially in the business you’ve found yourself in. It shouldn’t bother you but it does, wishing that you’d had more time to talk some sense into Bucky, to not let your emotions get the better of you.

Somewhere your phone vibrates, looking around at the broken frames and vases, finding it on the floor.

Resigning your fate, you answer, wondering how close he is.

“Oakley,” Steve says in a greeting. “I have questions but not at the moment. The more I ask for peace, the less you understand.”

“Loose ends,” you answer.

“Bad decisions get good outcomes. I’m not sorry, Steve.”

“I’ll send my men out later to retrieve Pierce’s body.”

You’re stunned at Steve’s words, silent until you find your voice.

”And me?”

“You have my respect and my protection. Can’t kill someone who did me a favor, can I?”

At your silence, he continues.

“He’s at his wits end, threatening me in my own house. The balls of him,” he chuckles. “But I have to wonder how that will work, seeing as I told him I would dispose of you and told him to wait for my call. Do you think he listened? I guess you’ll find out. Goodnight.’

He hangs up, leaving you speechless as you look around, relief flooding you as you realize you’re not going to die. 

The door flies open, Bucky’s gun cocked and ready, calling out to you before you finally see him. A man deranged, his eyes red as he stops in his tracks. Looking around the fractured penthouse, he lowers his gun.

“Tell me you didn’t do it.”

“I did.”

Bucky looks away from you, muttering to himself.

“Did you want it to continue? To be saddled with the guilt? I finished it for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to. Do you realize he’s coming this way?”

“I did him a favor.”

Bucky shakes his head in denial.

“You did Thor a favor. You settled the score with Volstagg.”

“And Steve’s wife. Oakley was hired to infiltrate Steve’s territory and take out his wife. To finish the job he started when Steve’s wife was a teenager. He killed her father.”

Bucky is stunned into silence, seeing you sigh, your shoulders falling in defeat.

“Spared,” you tell him. “Is that why you were trying to warn me that he was coming?”

“To protect you.”

“Since when do I need protecting?”

When you try to walk away, he pulls you into his arms, his gun clattering to the ground as you look up at him.

“I saved your territory,” you remind him, your voice shaky. “Even when I had nothing, I still looked out for you. Put my life on the line for you.”

“That’s the last time you’ll ever do it,” he promises, smoothing back your hair. “We end this now.”

He gets down on one knee, removing the chain from his neck as you realize what he’s doing.

“No,” you answer softly, seeing him place it into your hand. “I can’t accept this.”

“You take it all. Take the fucking empire, I don’t give a shit. But don’t leave me again. I’ll be your right hand, guide you in any decision when you need the help. I won’t lose you again.”

Your fingers close over his chain as his head settles on your stomach.

“Don’t go,” he whispers against you. “I thought I was lost before. I’ll be done for if you go. Stay.”

Your fingers rest on his shoulders, Bucky looking up at you as tears stream down his face. The fierce mobster on his knees because of you.

“Yes,” you answer. “I’ll stay.”

-

In the middle of the night you wake, the moonlight shining through and luminating the bed you share with Bucky. Whatever dream you had is now forgotten, floating between sleep and awake.

“You have a meeting in the morning,” Bucky says against the top of your head. “The first of many.”

It’s too early to think about that, feeling him rolling over, his hands on either side of you. Your matching chains nearly shine in the moonlight, his lips on yours as you earthly return the kiss, feeling his rough but warm hands part your thighs.

“This empire isn’t going to build itself,” he says with a grin. “We’re behind schedule.”

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 69

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,055ish

Summary: Your and Logan's relationship continues to progress.

Notes: Only three more chapters after this... I'm already crying... The next chapter is definitely going to be longer. There's going to be fluff and angst and it's going to set up the two different final chapters. HELP PLAN MY NEW LOGAN SERIES HERE.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

About a week later, you were finally feeling better and Logan brought date night to you in your living room. He had laid out a blanket on the floor with dinner set out on it. He was currently sitting against the couch with you leaning against him, sitting between his legs. The two of you were silent, enjoying the soft music Logan had playing in the background. Logan’s arms were wrapped around you, holding you to him as his head rested against yours, occasionally pressing kisses against it. 

Logan could tell that something was on your mind, the way you were tense against him and fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. But Logan wasn’t going to press you into speaking right now. He had a feeling that you’d tell him. He was simply trying to enjoy this moment: having you in his arms. Your skin wasn’t as cold as it had been since the incident, so he was going to take that as a win.

You leaned your head back onto Logan’s shoulder as your thoughts spiraled. You were getting sicker, quicker than you cared to admit. And you got a call today that only reminded you of how helpless you were.

“Lo?” You breathed out.

“Hm?” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I… I got a call today.”

“Yeah?”

“It was from my job… They fired me because I miss too many of my shifts.”

“What? They can’t do that.”

“They can. And they’re right… and, if we’re honest with ourselves, I’m only going to miss more.” Logan tried to ignore the reason why you would miss so many more shifts. “Laura and I going to have to find another place to live.”

“No.”

“Lo—“

“Not a chance. You cannot move. How am I supposed to help you if you’re not right here?”

“I can’t afford it, Lo. I’m sorry. It’s killing me to even think about moving. And I haven’t even told Laura yet. I don’t want her to quit school. She has to continue forward, despite everything with me.”

“What if… and hear me out, baby… what if I move in with you?”

“I can’t ask you—“

“You’re not. I’m making plenty for the rent and have saved a lot of money to help with Laura’s tuition as well. I can just sleep on the couch or I can still stay at Wade’s and just help out. Baby…” 

Logan leaned to the side and pulled your legs into you. He then carefully maneuvered you to face him. Your eyes met his gaze and you lost your breath. He was looking at you with just seriousness and love that it caught you off guard. His large, rough hand came up to cradle your face.

“Let me help you,” he whispered. “Please, baby, let me take care of you… while I can, for as long as I can.”

“Lo,” you breathed out. Your head was slowly moving closer to his, your eyes falling to his lips.

“Yeah, baby?”

You leaned in further but before you could actually pressed your lips against yours. Laura came walking into the apartment. You pushed yourself away from Logan, trying to hide the embarrassment showing on your face.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Laura exclaimed, taking in the scene. “I didn’t realize—“

“It’s fine,” you quickly said, gathering the dishes to clean up.

“No, it’s not,” grumbled Logan.

“I can just go over to Wade’s,” Laura tried.

“Moment’s ruined. How was work and school today, kid?”

“It was good. How was your day?”

“Could have been better.” He glanced over at where you were now in the kitchen, washing the dishes.

“Sorry,” Laura whispered.

Logan ignored her as he began cleaning up. He kept glancing over at you, thinking about how the two of you almost had kissed. He wasn’t all too happy with Laura interrupting their moment, but he knew that it wasn’t truly her fault. Logan was beginning to wish he kissed you months ago, but understood that going at your pace was the most important thing now.

Laura headed to her room, not wanting to ruin whatever was happening between you and Logan more than she already had. You and Logan cleaned up in silence.

“I should probably let you rest,” Logan said as he wiped his hands dry.

“Yeah, okay,” you mumbled.

The two of you walked to the door. You opened it but the two of you stood there, gazing at each other.

“Thanks for tonight,” you quietly thanked. “And thanks for your offer.”

“I’m serious, darlin’. Let me take care of things,” he repeated. “Let me do this while I still can.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Baby,” his hands came up to gently hold your face, “please stop thinking so negatively of yourself. It hurts me when you say things like that.”

“Sorry…” Your hands came up to grasp onto Logan’s wrists, rubbing your thumbs along his pulse points. “I can’t help it.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Then I’m gonna have to keep reminding you about how amazing and beautiful you are.”

You rolled your eyes and giggled, “Lo.”

“It’s all true, doll. Every word.”

“I’m so lucky that I have you, Lo… I’m so blessed.”

Logan smiled at your words before his eyes fell to your lips. Your eyes fell to his lips. You took a step closer, dropping your hands from Logan’s wrists to wrap around his waist. Logan leaned in closer and your eyes fluttered close.

“There you are, Peanut!” Wade exclaimed, coming out into the hall.

You bit your lip as you stepped away, letting go of Logan. His hands dropped to his sides, clenching into fists as his claws poked out.

“Fuck!” Logan muttered.

“I’m going to head to bed,” you said. “Goodnight, Wade. Goodnight, Lo.”

“Night, Buttercup!” Wade said as you slipped into your apartment and shut the door. “Anyway, I have something for you, Peanut.”

“What could you possibly have for me that you needed to interrupt us?” Logan was clearly frustrated, which did not phase Wade.

“Here!” Wade handed over a box.

“A watch? Are you fucking serious?”

“It’s a smart watch1 It will allow you to stop losing track of time and for all of us to get a hold of you easier.”

“I hate you.” 

Logan shoved the box into Wade’s chest and stomped into their apartment.

“Is this because you need to get laid?” Wade shouted, following after the man. “Because I can totally help—“ Wade was cut off when claws plunged into his head. “Ouch.”

~~~

Despite the poor timing for the gift giving, Logan still woke up the next day and put on the stupid smart watch. He went to work as usual and on the way home, picked up your favorite treat. When he came into your apartment, Logan wasn’t surprised to see Wade already there for dinner. What he was surprised about was that you and Wade were sitting at the table and Laura was working on dinner in the kitchen.

“Lo!” You greeted happily as he sauntered over to you.

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “Got you something.”

“You didn’t need to, Lo.”

“Wanted to. Here.” He pulled out your favorite treat and handed it to you.

“I was just craving these! You must be a mindreader.”

“Only yours, doll.” He leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Hey! You’ve been living with me and you’ve never once brought me a treat!” Wade complained. “I even gifted you that watch you’re clearly wearing. I feel under appreciated here, Peanut.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “What? You want a forehead kiss, too?”

“You know what? Maybe I do! I deserve one for putting up with your grumpy ass all the time.”

“Oh my gosh,” you laugh. “If he bought you that watch, Lo, I think he deserves a forehead kiss.”

“I agree,” Laura piped in with a teasing smirk.

“Three against one here, babe.”

Logan immediately caught the new nickname and cheeks flooded his cheeks. You didn’t seemed phased at all, which was fine. He didn’t want you to stop calling him that. He would do anything for you, including give Wade a kiss on his forehead.

“Fine,” Logan huffed. 

Leaning down, Logan’s lips don’t get the chance to touch Wade’s forehead before Wade quickly moves and plants a wet kiss on Logan’s lips. Logan’s claws were out in record time and plunged into Wade, shoving him back.

“I fucking hate you,” Logan growled.

You and Laura were cackling, tears springing in your and Laura’s eyes at what had just happened.

“That was great!” You laughed.

“Wait, you’re not jealous, Buttercup?” Wade taunted. “I bet he’ll finally kiss you, too, if you ask him.”

“Wade—“

“Maybe I can finally fucking kiss her if we stopped getting interrupted!” Logan shouted. The room fell silent for a moment after Logan’s outburst. You reached out to grab his wrist but he pulled away. “I need a minute.”

“Lo—“

“I won’t be long.”

You watched as Logan hurried out of the apartment, practically slamming the door behind him. You glared at Wade.

“You went too far,” you told him, shaking your head.

“Hey!” Wade held his hands up. “I’m just trying to help. You both are the slowest movers.”

“Yeah, well, maybe how slow we go doesn’t matter.”

“It does when you’re on death’s door.” Wade immediately knew he had crossed a line when your face fell. “Shit! Buttercup, I didn’t mean—“

“It’s fine, Wade.” You waved him off as you stood up. “I’m going to go find Logan.”

You quickly left. Laura went over to Wade and hit him upside the head.

“Idiot,” she muttered.

~~~

You found Logan on the roof. He was standing, over looking the street with an unlit cigar between his lips. You took a deep breath and moved your fingers ever so slightly. You winced at the pain as Logan’s cigar lit. Logan jumped at turned around to see you cradling your hand.

“Shit, baby,” he dropped the cigar and rushed over to you. “Why did you do that?”

“I’m fine.”

Logan took your hand and closely examined it. Your finger tips were blackened with little blisters already forming. His heart was breaking at the sight.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered.

“Sorry,” you quietly responded. “I just wanted to do something for you… I’m sorry for Wade.”

“You don’t need to be apologizing for that idiot.”

“And I’m sorry that we keep getting interrupted. If it helps, I want to kiss you too. I’ve wanted to for a while now, just been too nervous.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… you make me nervous.”

Logan chuckled. “You have know idea how nervous you make me, baby… So, can I kiss you?”

“Mhm,” you hummed.

Slowly, the two of you went in. Your noses bumped causing the two of you to pull back with a laugh.

“Here,” Logan muttered. 

He gently took your hands and placed them on his waisted before his hands came to carefully cradling your face. You closed your eyes, allowing Logan to take the lead on this. His lips barely brushed against yours, hesitant to take the leap. But then his lips captured yours. It had been years since either of you had truly kissed anyone like this and you were both a little rusty, but that didn’t matter. You gripped his waist tighter as you melted further into the kiss.

Suddenly, you both were jumping as Logan’s new watch beeped in your ear. Logan groaned as he pulled away and allowed you both to look at his watch. You bit back a laugh as you read ‘abnormal heart rate detected’ on the screen. Logan’s face instantly heated up in embarrassment as his watch clearly called him out on how affected he was. 

“Damn watch,” Logan grumbled, ripping it off and throwing it across the roof. “I’m sorry, doll. That was embarrassing.”

“It’s fine, but am I going to have to worry about you having a heart attack if we kiss again?”

“Not a chance, baby.”

Logan pulled you in for another kiss, less hesitant this time. You let Logan take the lead again, just enjoying kissing him. When the two of you finally parted, your foreheads rested against each other.

“Be my girlfriend,” Logan panted softly.

You smiled. “Thought you’d never ask.”

next chapter >

[hueseok]

can’t stop thinking about frenemy!seokjin, your fellow agent, who still thinks it’s his right to act all concerned towards you whenever you end up appearing battered and bruised.

“tell me the motherfucker’s name.”

you sighed, bringing your head back so that his fingertips would no longer touch your mouth. the sensation felt too nice and you were being too pleased with the fact that seokjin had the nerve to check on you when he heard that you arrived back at the headquarters with a bruised lip and a broken nose.

you and him were civil for the most part (despite the constant bickering and dirty looks being thrown to the other at times), so you weren’t exactly shocked to see him concerned—but what he was showcasing felt more than concern or worry, and it was giving you mixed emotions to let him carry on

“the motherfucker’s already dead,” you dryly answered, going back to what you were doing, which was changing the pieces of dirty clothing you were wearing. “do you think i’d let him get away after messing my pretty face like this?”

seokjin snorted, bringing his hand down on his lap as he looked away when you raised the hem of your top over your head. you typically wore a sports bra underneath to care about unintentionally flashing someone and that annoyed seokjin more than it should. “did you already have it checked? your nose?”

“not yet.”

“and that’s because…”

“can’t you see that i’m getting changed here?” you gestured to yourself.

the changing rooms in the headquarters were co-ed too, the reason why seokjin was able to catch up with you when you got back from your mission. indeed you didn’t go to the infirmary first like you should have—like you always forget to do honestly, seokjin thought—that he didn’t know why he bothered asking.

he didn’t reply again after you said that last retort. however it didn’t take him long enough either to say something again that made you glare at him. “you should have called me for back-up,” is what he told you.

“and why would i do that?” you asked, loudly slipping on your more comfortable shoes that the sound it emitted echoed in the room.

he shrugged. “could have saved your pretty face from getting hurt if you did.”

“oh, and care to explain why?”

“you know why.”

“you were going to be my knight in shining armor?” you mocked, finishing on changing and standing up, closing your locker door.

“a partner was the term i was going for,” he said quickly, standing up when you did. seokjin walked towards you just as you were going to the exit; he purposely blocked your path, stepping in the direction where you went, not letting you get away with his annoying antics until you looked up again to meet his eyes.

his face appeared serious, rigid even, so unlike the seokjin who liked to piss you off with his dumb jokes and his out of place comments. his gaze flickered down to your misshapen nose once more now that you were inches apart, getting a good look on it before it moved to your slightly swollen and bleeding lips.

he sighed, expression contorting into that guise again when he first stepped inside the room and set his eyes on you—it showed irritation and complete anger, expressions that surprised you a bit but chosen to ignore in the end.

“did you give that asshole a good beating before killing him at least?” he asked.

that amused you, both from how he brought the topic up again and how though not worded in the conventional way, you knew that he meant it as disdain to the man who hurt you, wishing the guy got what he deserved.

“what do you think?”

seokjin grinned, nodding approvingly. “we should head to the infirmary then. get that nose fixed.” he led the way this time and you followed, your mouth smirking.

“thanks for the tip, captain obvious.” you said, pausing for a while before you added another phrase. “and thanks for the concern too.”

he glanced at you, smiling in a sort of cocky manner at the showcase of some feelings. “no problem. though next time, try not to finish the guys who hurt you yourself, alright?” he joked. “let me have my fun with them too.”

you halted at that, just for a quick second, the implication getting stronger—but like earlier, just like with every hint that he’s been giving that he cared for you much more than you were grasping—you ignored it, walking again and matching his pace without another word about it.

[lightdancingwords]

Second Chances - Part Seventeen of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in a grocery store brings a second chance for you and for Beau. The only thing standing in your way are your respective pasts... and a tiny little roadblock. Word Count: 5,735 Tags/Warnings: Mainly fluff. So much fluff. Some emotional insecurity. Implied smut. A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! This story is ongoing and likely will never end!

Note: Please take a look at this post for the posting schedule for Second Chances! Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter Seventeen: Family Treasures

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the quiet home. The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted through the air, mingling with the scent of pancakes sizzling on the stove. It was a peaceful, slow morning—the kind that Y/N had come to treasure.

But peaceful didn’t last long when Eliza was involved.

“Big Sissy, BIG SISSY, BIG SISSYYYY!”

Emily barely had time to react before a blur of curls and boundless energy tackled her midsection, nearly knocking her off balance.

“Whoa!” Emily laughed, catching Eliza before they both tumbled. “Good morning to you too, wild child.”

Eliza grinned up at her, her eyes bright with excitement. “Big Sissy play today?”

Emily smirked, kneeling down to her level. “That was the plan, but I gotta ask—is Grandma gonna let you go?”

Eliza gasped dramatically, turning toward the kitchen where Margaret stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with a knowing smile.

“Gramma, please?” Eliza clasped her hands together, her bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout.

Margaret didn’t even turn around. “Mmm, I don’t know,” she mused playfully. “I was looking forward to a whole day of snuggles.”

Eliza gasped again, eyes wide. “But… but Big Sissy said!”

Emily bit back a laugh, glancing at Margaret. “I did promise her a fun day, Grandma. Maybe… a trip into town? A little sister’s adventure?”

Margaret finally turned around, setting the spatula down, folding her arms, and pretending to think. “Well… I suppose I could let you go… if you promise to bring me back something sweet.”

Eliza gasped again, bouncing excitedly. “ICE CREAM?”

Margaret chuckled. “Mmm, sounds like a fair deal.”

Emily grinned, ruffling Eliza’s curls. “Deal sealed, kiddo. Let’s get you dressed, and then we’re outta here.”

Eliza squealed and ran for her room, disappearing in a flurry of excitement.

Margaret shook her head, laughing. “You’re a natural with her.”

Emily smiled. “She makes it easy.”

Margaret reached over, tucking a strand of Emily’s hair behind her ear. “You know… I can see a lot of Beau in you.”

Emily blinked in surprise. “Really?”

Margaret nodded. “That protectiveness. That strong, steady presence. It’s in your blood, sweetheart.”

Emily’s throat tightened slightly, but she smiled. “That’s… nice to hear.”

Margaret patted her cheek affectionately before turning back to the stove. “All right, you girls go have your fun. I’ve got a little man to spoil rotten.”

The morning sun filtered through the windows, casting warm golden streaks across the bedroom as Beau buttoned up his shirt, rolling his shoulders to shake off the lingering sleep. His badge sat on the dresser beside his belt, waiting for him to put it on.

Across the room, Y/N stood in front of the mirror, securing an earring while skimming over her planner, mentally running through her schedule for the day. Between work and wedding planning, her plate was full, and the next two weeks were going to be nothing short of chaos.

Beau ran a hand through his hair before stepping behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against his chest. “You sure I can’t convince you to call in sick today?” he murmured against her neck, pressing a slow kiss to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

Y/N sighed, tilting her head slightly to give him better access before catching herself with a chuckle. “Tempting, Sheriff, but no. I actually like my job, and I have too much to do.”

Beau groaned dramatically, letting his forehead rest against her shoulder. “That sounds boring.”

Y/N smirked, turning in his arms. “And your day of paperwork and chasing down stray cows doesn’t?”

Beau snorted. “Fair point.”

She placed a hand on his chest, smoothing the fabric of his shirt. “Besides, if I have to work and plan a wedding, you have to suffer through work, too.”

Beau smirked, leaning down to kiss her—slow, deep, full of promise. “Fine. But I expect some kind of reward for my suffering later.”

Y/N hummed against his lips, pretending to consider. “We’ll see.”

He grinned, grabbing his belt and badge as she turned back toward the mirror to brush through her hair. He watched her, the way she moved, the way her lips curled slightly as she focused. Damn, she was beautiful.

“Hey,” he called, tossing his belt onto the bed and stepping toward her again.

Y/N turned just in time for him to steal another kiss, this one deeper, longer, as he backed her up against the dresser. Her fingers curled around the front of his shirt, holding him there.

“You are so stalling,” she murmured against his lips.

“Damn right, I am,” he muttered, kissing her again.

She laughed, finally managing to nudge him away. “Go. Before Jenny calls and yells at you for being late.”

Beau groaned, reluctantly stepping back. “Fine. But I’m countin' the minutes ‘til I get home.”

Y/N smirked. “Then you better make them count.”

Beau shot her a wink before finally grabbing his hat and heading toward the door.

Y/N shook her head, laughing softly to herself. That man was impossible.

And she wouldn’t have him any other way.

Margaret was already in full grandma mode.

With Eliza and Emily gone, she had one mission: completely spoil baby Caleb.

She rocked him gently in her arms, humming softly, his tiny fingers gripping at her necklace. “Oh, you are just the sweetest thing,” she cooed, brushing a soft kiss over his forehead.

Caleb made a soft noise of contentment, blinking up at her with wide, sleepy eyes.

“Oh, I know,” Margaret murmured, gently bouncing him. “Your mama and daddy think they’re in charge, but we know who really rules this house, don’t we?”

Caleb yawned, his tiny mouth stretching wide, making Margaret chuckle.

She settled into the rocking chair, stroking his soft hair. “You, little one, are going to be so loved.”

And with that, she rocked him back to sleep, completely and utterly in grandmother heaven.

Beau had barely settled into his office, already knee-deep in paperwork, when a soft knock sounded from the doorframe.

He glanced up to see Carla standing there, her expression hesitant but open.

“Hey, Beau,” she greeted.

Beau sat back in his chair, waving her in. “Carla. C’mon in.”

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her before settling into the chair across from him. There was a pause—one of those loaded silences where you knew something was coming, but you weren’t sure what.

“I, uh… I wanted to talk to you about something,” she started.

Beau raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

Carla let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. “Yeah, yeah. Nothing bad. Just… I got my wedding invitation a couple of days ago.”

Beau straightened slightly, watching her carefully.

“I guess I just wanted to check,” Carla continued, tapping her fingers lightly against the armrest. “Make sure it’s really okay. That I’m really welcome there.”

Beau exhaled, leaning forward slightly. “Carla, of course you’re welcome. Y/N and I wouldn’t have invited you if we didn’t mean it.”

Carla studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay. I just wanted to be sure.” She hesitated before adding, “Emily’s been giving me updates. She’s been loving spending time with Y/N, with the kids.”

Beau’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Yeah. She and Eliza are practically inseparable now.”

Carla grinned. “Sounds about right. She was so excited to meet them.” She paused, exhaling softly. “I’m happy for you, Beau.”

Beau blinked, caught slightly off guard by the sincerity in her tone.

Carla leaned back, crossing her arms. “I knew about you and Y/N months ago. I could tell. You fell hard for her, and fast.” She smirked slightly. “Not that I was surprised.”

Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “Was it that obvious?”

Carla gave him a knowing look. “Beau, I’ve known you for a long time. I could tell when something changed. And I remember telling you to go for it.”

Beau exhaled, some of the tension in his chest easing. “That means a lot, Carla.”

She smiled. “It’s not weird, you know. You and me—we had our time, and we have Emily. That’s our story. And now, this? This is yours.”

Beau nodded, letting her words settle in.

Carla sighed, standing up. “I just wanted to make sure there were no weird feelings. And to say… I really am happy for you.”

Beau stood as well, giving her a grateful look. “I appreciate that, Carla. More than you know.”

She smirked, tilting her head. “Well, that doesn’t mean I won’t be making fun of you for crying at the altar.”

Beau scoffed. “Who says I’m gonna cry?”

Carla gave him an exasperated look. “Oh, Beau. Please.”

Beau huffed, shaking his head. “Fine. Maybe a little.”

Carla laughed before reaching for the door. “See you at the wedding, Sheriff.”

Beau grinned, watching as she walked out, a weight lifting from his chest.

Everything was good.

Everything was right.

And now? Now, he could focus on marrying the love of his life.

Eliza, dressed in her favorite sundress, held tightly to Emily’s hand as they strolled through town, stopping at every window display, every little shop that caught Eliza’s attention.

“Sissy, look!” Eliza gasped, pointing at a giant stuffed bear in a store window.

Emily grinned. “You do have a birthday coming up soon… should we put that on your wish list?”

Eliza gasped again, nodding eagerly. “YES!”

Emily laughed, tugging her along. “All right, all right. Let’s get ice cream first.”

By the time Beau pulled into the driveway, the sun was dipping low, casting warm golden light over the house. It had been a long day, but the second he stepped through the front door, any exhaustion he felt faded at the sound of tiny, excited babbles filling the air.

Eliza was going off in full toddler mode, bouncing on her feet, her little hands moving wildly as she tried to explain everything that had happened during her adventure with Emily.

“—sissy get me ice cream! BIG one! Had choco—choc’ate! An’ sprinkles! An’—doggie! Saw doggie! Big! Go woof!”

Y/N, standing near the counter, was laughing softly as she set plates on the table. “She’s been like this since they got back,” she said, glancing up at Beau with a knowing smile.

Emily, standing beside Eliza, arms crossed, was beaming, her face full of warmth as she nodded along to every word. “I swear she didn’t stop talking once today,” she said, shaking her head with an amused grin.

Beau chuckled, bending down to scoop Eliza up into his arms, her tiny hands immediately clutching onto his shirt. “That so, baby girl?”

Eliza nodded so fast it nearly knocked her curls loose. “Yeah! Fun! Sissy fun!”

Emily smirked. “We had a blast.”

Beau grinned, shifting Eliza in his arms. “That true, wolf-child? You like hangin’ with Big Sissy?”

Eliza’s face lit up as she turned, patting Emily’s shoulder with her little hand. “Mine!”

Emily laughed, nodding. “Yup. I’ve been claimed.”

Beau’s chest swelled with something deep, something warm.

This. This was exactly what he had always wanted.

He looked over at Y/N, who was watching it all unfold, a soft smile playing on her lips. Her eyes met his, full of love, full of knowing.

“Sounds like we had a good day,” Beau murmured, pressing a kiss to Eliza’s cheek before setting her down.

Eliza immediately latched onto Emily’s leg, babbling again. “Sissy got cookie! For G’ma! Big one! Choco one!”

Emily grinned. “That’s right. We promised Grandma a cookie.”

Beau raised an eyebrow, looking between them. “And where’s mine?”

Eliza’s whole face froze.

Her eyes went huge, her mouth forming a little o. She turned very slowly to Emily, blinking. “Uh-oh.”

Emily burst out laughing, covering her mouth.

Beau let out a deep chuckle, kneeling back down to Eliza’s level. “You forgot your old man, huh?”

Eliza made a tiny whimper sound before throwing herself against his chest. “Sowwy, Daddy!”

Beau laughed, hugging her tight. “It’s okay, baby girl. I forgive you.”

Eliza pulled back, gripping both sides of his face with her tiny hands. “You okay?”

He grinned. “Yeah, darlin’. I’m okay.”

She studied him very seriously before nodding to herself, as if deciding he was probably not too heartbroken over the missing cookie.

Emily, still laughing, wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “That was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Beau shook his head, standing up. “You’re gonna fit right in with these two, Em.”

Y/N walked over, slipping her arms around Beau’s waist, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Told you she was gonna adore her big sister.”

Beau exhaled, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her close. “Yeah,” he murmured. “And I love seein’ it.”

Emily, watching them, felt a tightness in her throat—one that had nothing to do with sadness and everything to do with how full her heart felt.

Y/N turned to her, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “She’s already your girl, too.”

Emily swallowed, nodding. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I think she is.”

And as Eliza tugged on her hand, demanding more attention, Emily knew—

This was home.

This was family.

And she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The house was quiet, wrapped in the stillness of the Montana night.

Beau lay on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other lazily tracing circles against Y/N’s bare shoulder as she lay curled up against him, her head resting on his chest. Their breaths were still heavy, their bodies warm and tangled beneath the sheets, the scent of lovemaking lingering between them.

It had been different tonight.

Not rushed, not just a release—it had been intense, raw, all-consuming. A reflection of the love swelling inside them, the joy filling their home, the way their family was growing and blending so seamlessly.

Y/N sighed softly, nuzzling into his chest. “That was… something else.”

Beau chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah, it was.”

A comfortable silence stretched between them for a while, their bodies still thrumming with the aftershocks of their passion.

Then, quietly, Y/N murmured, “Emily fits in so perfectly.”

Beau exhaled, his hand sliding through her hair, his fingers combing through the soft strands. “Yeah,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “She really does.”

Y/N shifted, tilting her head up to look at him. His green eyes were soft, thoughtful, his usual confidence replaced with something deeper, something almost vulnerable.

“I can’t tell you how much it means to me,” he murmured, “seeing her with the kids. With you.” He swallowed, his throat tight. “I spent so long wonderin’ if I’d ever have this. A real family. A home that just… felt right.”

Y/N reached up, cupping his cheek. “You do, Beau.”

His jaw clenched slightly as he turned his face into her palm, pressing a lingering kiss there. “I know,” he admitted. “And I don’t ever wanna take it for granted.”

Y/N studied him, sensing there was more he wanted to say.

“Beau?” she prompted gently.

He took a slow breath before shifting, rolling slightly to his side so he could look at her fully. His fingers trailed along her arm, his touch reverent, deliberate.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” he started, his voice low, careful. “About Eliza.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed slightly, curiosity flickering in her gaze. “What about her?”

Beau held her gaze, his thumb brushing absently over her wrist. “I want to adopt her.”

Y/N’s breath caught.

Beau swallowed, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Not just ‘cause we’re getting married. Not just ‘cause she’s your little girl. But because… she’s mine too, Y/N. She feels like mine. She is mine in every way that matters. And I want to make it official.”

Y/N blinked, her chest tightening. “Beau…”

“I love her,” he continued, his voice thick. “I love her like she’s always been mine. And I want her to know that. To never have to question it. To never have to wonder.”

Y/N’s throat bobbed, emotion clogging it. “Are you sure?” she whispered.

Beau let out a small chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Darlin’, I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “She is my little girl. And I wanna make it real. In every way.”

Y/N’s eyes welled with tears, her lips trembling. “Beau…”

He reached up, cupping her face. “Say yes,” he murmured.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, nodding frantically as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Beau exhaled, relief washing over his face before he pulled her into a deep, soul-stealing kiss.

When they pulled apart, Y/N cupped his jaw, running her thumbs over the stubble there. “She’s going to be so happy, Beau.”

Beau smiled, brushing his nose against hers. “Good. ‘Cause I plan on spoilin’ that little girl for the rest of my damn life.”

Y/N laughed softly before pressing another kiss to his lips, then his forehead, then his chest, where his heart beat strong beneath her palm.

Beau wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, breathing her in.

Their family was already whole, already perfect.

The house was alive with warmth and movement.

Morning light streamed through the kitchen window, casting golden streaks over the countertops where Y/N stood, flipping pancakes while the scent of fresh coffee filled the air.

Eliza was in the living room, enthusiastically banging together two plastic toys, her own personal concert echoing throughout the house.

At the kitchen table, Emily sat across from Margaret, who was cradling Caleb like he was the most precious thing in the world. Which, as far as she was concerned, he was.

Emily grinned as she sipped her coffee. “So… is it just me, or are you completely obsessed with this kid?”

Margaret smirked, rocking Caleb gently as he blinked up at her with sleepy eyes. “Oh, I absolutely am.”

Emily laughed. “You know you’re holding him like someone’s gonna steal him, right?”

Margaret scoffed, shifting Caleb slightly to rest against her shoulder. “I dare someone to try.”

Emily shook her head, amused. “All right, all right. But, hey… I was thinking, maybe I could spend the day with him?”

Margaret froze, her grip immediately tightening around Caleb’s tiny body.

Y/N, still by the stove, smiled to herself, already knowing this was coming.

Margaret cleared her throat, but her fingers still curled firmly around the baby’s back. “Spend the day… how, exactly?”

Emily leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. “Just—bonding! Maybe take him outside for a little stroll, get him some fresh air, let you have some time to yourself.”

Margaret arched a brow. “I don’t need time to myself. I have Caleb.”

Emily snorted. “Grandma, you do you can share him with the rest of us, right?”

Margaret gave a very unimpressed look before turning to Caleb, cooing softly. “She doesn’t understand us, does she, baby?”

Caleb let out a tiny coo, his little fingers gripping the collar of her blouse.

Emily groaned, looking at Y/N for backup. “Am I losing this battle?”

Y/N finally turned, setting a plate of pancakes on the table before leaning against the counter. “You might be.”

Emily sighed dramatically before pressing her hands together. “Okay, okay—look, I love Eliza, but she’s a lot of energy. I thought today I could get some quiet bonding time with this little guy.”

Margaret pursed her lips. “And what if he needs something?”

Emily gave her a look. “I do have basic baby knowledge, Grandma.”

Margaret sighed, looking down at Caleb again, her fingers still not loosening. “It’s not you, sweetheart. It’s me.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Mom, let the girl spend time with her brother. You’re just being possessive.”

Margaret huffed. “I am not possessive.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Last night, I literally heard you whisper ‘mine’ when you were rocking him.”

Emily burst out laughing. “Okay, that’s adorable but also exactly my point.”

Margaret let out a dramatic sigh, looking between them before pressing a kiss to Caleb’s head. “Fine. But if you need anything, you call me immediately.”

Emily grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

Margaret reluctantly handed Caleb over, her hands hovering like she was mentally preparing herself to snatch him back at any moment.

Y/N smirked as she handed Emily a bottle. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

Margaret huffed. “We’ll see.”

Just then, the bedroom door opened, and Beau stepped out, his hair still damp from his shower, a towel draped over his shoulders as he buttoned up his shirt.

His eyes immediately scanned the room, landing on Emily holding Caleb. He arched a brow. “Well, look at you. Movin’ up in the world.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Apparently, it was a hard sell.”

Margaret muttered, crossing her arms. “It was.”

Beau smirked, walking over to Y/N, dropping a kiss on her cheek before stealing a bite of pancake straight off her plate.

Y/N swatted at him. “Go eat your own food, Sheriff.”

Beau grinned, reaching for his coffee as he turned back to Margaret. “You okay, Margaret? You look like someone stole your car.”

Margaret huffed, giving Emily one last look before dramatically sipping her coffee. “I’ll survive.”

Beau chuckled, grabbing a fork and sitting down beside Emily, watching as she held Caleb with ease.

“You know,” he murmured, tilting his head, “this really is somethin’ special.”

Emily looked at him, brow raised. “What is?”

Beau took a sip of coffee before smirking. “All three of my kids under the same roof.”

Emily’s expression softened as she looked down at Caleb, her fingers gently brushing over his tiny hand.

Yeah.

That was something special.

The warm glow of the setting sun stretched across the driveway as Beau pulled the truck to a stop in front of the house. The day had been long—work always felt longer when he knew what was waiting for him at home—but now that he was here, something inside him instantly settled.

Y/N stretched in the passenger seat, letting out a soft sigh. “I am so ready to be home.”

Beau smirked, unbuckling his seatbelt. “That bad, huh?”

Y/N gave him a pointed look. “Do you know how many last-minute wedding things I had to deal with today on top of work stuff?”

Beau grinned. “Nope. And that’s why I left you in charge.”

Y/N swatted at his arm. “You’re impossible.”

Beau leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her lips. “And yet, you love me anyway.”

Y/N sighed against his mouth. “Unfortunately.”

Beau chuckled, then opened the door, stepping out just as another car pulled into the driveway.

Margaret was behind the wheel, and as soon as she parked, she got out and moved to the backseat. Beau and Y/N watched as she opened the door, carefully unbuckling Eliza from her car seat.

The second Eliza was free, she started wiggling excitedly, her little feet kicking against the seat. “Mommy! Daddy!” she squealed, bouncing as Margaret lifted her out and set her down on the ground.

Eliza bolted toward them, her little feet pattering against the gravel.

Beau barely had time to crouch before Eliza launched herself into his arms. He lifted her effortlessly, settling her against his hip. “Hey there, wolf-child,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her messy curls. “Did you have a good day?”

Eliza nodded rapidly. “Big one!”

Margaret chuckled as she walked up the steps. “That girl wore me out today.”

Y/N reached for Eliza’s chubby little hand, kissing her fingers. “Did Grandma spoil you?”

Eliza’s face lit up as she nodded enthusiastically. “Cookies! An’ toys! An’ big slide! An’—”

She suddenly gasped dramatically, wiggling in Beau’s arms until he set her down. Then, without missing a beat, she bolted inside. “Sissy! Sissy! Mommy ‘n’ Daddy home!”

Beau chuckled, shaking his head as he wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist. “Think she missed us?”

Y/N laughed. “I think she’s just excited to show off whatever she convinced Grandma to buy her today.”

Margaret huffed playfully as she made her way inside. “You act like I spoil her.”

Beau smirked. “Margaret, you literally just came back from taking her to a toy store.”

Margaret sniffed. “She needed a new stuffed horse.”

Y/N snorted. “Right. Needed.”

They followed Margaret inside, where Eliza was already bouncing beside the couch, tugging at Emily’s arm, trying to get her attention.

Emily, however, was completely entranced by Caleb.

The baby was settled comfortably against her chest, wide awake, his tiny fingers occasionally flexing in the air as she gently rocked him back and forth.

Y/N nudged Beau’s arm, nodding toward the scene. “Oh, look at her.”

Beau smirked, stepping forward. “Well, well, well. Someone’s got a case of baby fever.”

Emily glanced up, blinking as if she had just realized they were there. “Oh—hey! You guys are back.”

Beau raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “You, uh… good there, Em?”

Emily huffed a small laugh, looking back down at Caleb, her face full of warmth. “I get it now.”

Beau chuckled. “Get what?”

Emily gently stroked Caleb’s tiny fingers, her voice softer than usual. “Why people love babies so much.”

Y/N bit back a smile as she walked over, peering down at Caleb. “He is a pretty easygoing little guy.”

Emily nodded. “He barely fussed all day. Just ate, snuggled, and blinked up at me like I was the greatest person in the world.” She glanced up, shaking her head in pure awe. “It’s dangerous how sweet he is.”

Beau snorted. “Careful, Em. You sound like you’re about to steal him.”

Emily sighed dramatically, cradling Caleb a little closer. “I just might.”

Y/N chuckled, rubbing Emily’s back. “Welcome to the club.”

Margaret walked into the room, hands on her hips. “I told you he was perfect.”

Emily rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Yeah, yeah, okay—you win.”

Beau smirked, leaning against the couch. “So, lemme get this straight—you survived a full day with a baby, and now you’re thinkin’ about gettin’ one of your own?”

Emily snorted. “Oh, no way. I’m happy borrowing this one for now.” She grinned down at Caleb, brushing her thumb across his tiny cheek. “But yeah… I get it now.”

Y/N smiled, glancing over at Beau, who was watching his daughter with nothing but pride.

He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “First, Eliza claims you, and now Caleb? What’s next—you takin’ Grandma out for spa days?”

Margaret lifted her chin. “Well, now that you mention it—”

Beau held up a hand. “Nope. Not entertainin’ that.”

Y/N laughed, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around Beau’s waist. “Face it, honey. Emily’s one of us now.”

Beau exhaled, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s hair. “Guess I can live with that.”

Emily smirked. “Gee, thanks, Dad.”

Beau chuckled, nudging her playfully. “Anytime, kid.”

The house had settled into its quiet nighttime rhythm.

Beau was standing at the dresser, pulling his shirt over his head, while Y/N was already in bed, fluffing the pillows and stretching out with a contented sigh. The warmth of the day still lingered, and the comfort of being home, together, made everything feel right.

Beau was just about to climb in beside her when a soft knock sounded at the door.

He and Y/N exchanged a glance before he stepped over, pulling it open to find Emily standing there, arms crossed, shifting slightly on her feet.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted, voice soft but attentive.

“Hey,” Emily said, her voice quieter than usual. She hesitated, glancing past him at Y/N. “Can I talk to you? Just… you?”

Beau frowned slightly but nodded. “Of course.” He turned back to Y/N, touching her arm. “I’ll be back.”

Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand. “Take your time.”

Emily led him down the hallway to the guest room where she was staying. The small lamp on the nightstand cast a soft glow across the room. Her suitcase was half-unpacked in the corner, her shoes kicked off by the foot of the bed.

She sat down first, twisting her fingers in her lap. There was a hesitation in the way she moved, like she wasn’t quite sure how to say what was on her mind.

Beau sat beside her, leaning forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. “What’s on your mind, Em?”

Emily exhaled, shifting slightly. “I don’t really know how to say it. It’s… kinda stupid.”

Beau arched a brow. “Doubt that.”

She gave a small, nervous laugh, then looked down at her hands. “I love them,” she admitted softly. “Eliza. Caleb. I love being their big sister.”

Beau smiled, warmth spreading through his chest. “I know you do.”

Emily nodded, but then she hesitated, her fingers still twisting together. “But… is it okay if I feel sad, too?”

Beau’s brow furrowed. “Sad?”

Emily swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I never had this growing up. I never had siblings. And I didn’t know what I was missing, but now that I do…” She trailed off, struggling to find the words. “I wish I had this back then. And I know that’s not fair to you, because I know you and Mom loved me so much—but part of me still wishes I had this when I was little.”

Beau’s chest ached.

He reached over, gripping her hand gently. “Sweetheart…”

Emily sniffled, shaking her head. “I don’t want you to feel bad, Dad. It’s not that I wasn’t happy—I was. It’s just… different now. And I love it so much that I wish I had it before.” She exhaled sharply. “I’m sorry if that hurts.”

Beau squeezed her hand, his voice steady. “Em, you never have to apologize for feelin’ what you feel.”

She glanced at him, hesitant.

Beau took a slow breath before continuing, “I get it, sweetheart. I really do. You had me and your mama, and I know we did our best to love you as much as possible, but I know that’s not the same as havin’ siblings.” He smiled softly. “And the fact that you love Eliza and Caleb so much that you wish you had them sooner? That ain’t a bad thing. That just means you’re a damn good big sister.”

Emily let out a quiet, breathy laugh. “You think so?”

Beau smiled. “I know so.”

She smiled, sniffling slightly before squeezing his hand. “Thanks, Dad.”

Beau leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

Emily sighed, relaxing slightly. “I really do love them, you know.”

Beau chuckled. “Oh, I know. Pretty sure Eliza’s never letting you leave.”

Emily laughed, wiping at her eyes. “Yeah. I’m starting to think she’s attached.”

Beau grinned, pulling her into a side hug. “Good. ‘Cause you’re stuck with us now.”

Emily smiled against his shoulder, hugging him back. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The house was silent except for the soft hum of the night settling around them.

Beau quietly made his way back to the bedroom, stepping inside and closing the door gently behind him. Y/N was still awake, lying on her side beneath the covers, her eyes heavy with sleep but filled with quiet concern.

She shifted slightly, propping herself up on her elbow as Beau peeled off his shirt, sighing before running a hand through his hair. “Everything okay with Emily?” she asked softly.

Beau nodded, but there was something distant in his expression. He slipped into bed beside her, exhaling as he leaned back against the pillows. “Yeah,” he murmured. “She just… needed to talk.”

Y/N studied him for a moment, reaching over to run her fingers lightly over his chest. “About what?”

Beau let out a slow breath. “She loves Eliza and Caleb. She loves being their big sister. But she told me she was sad she didn’t have siblings growing up.” His voice was quiet, thoughtful. “She didn’t even know what she was missing until now.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed.

Beau rubbed his hand over his face. “I hate that I couldn’t give her that.”

Y/N shifted closer, sliding her hand up to his jaw, coaxing him to look at her. “Beau,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth. “Emily grew up so loved.”

Beau swallowed, his green eyes dark with emotion. “I know. But I keep thinkin’… maybe if Carla and I had worked out, if things had been different…”

Y/N shook her head gently. “You and Carla gave Emily everything you could. You were a damn good father to her, Beau. And you still are.”

Beau exhaled, his hand coming to rest over hers, pressing it against his chest. “It just… made me think, you know?”

Y/N smiled softly. “Emily isn’t mourning her childhood. She’s just realizing something new. And instead of being bitter, instead of pulling away, she’s embracing it. She’s here, she’s loving her siblings, and she’s so happy.”

Beau closed his eyes briefly, nodding. “Yeah,” he murmured. “She is.”

Y/N traced her fingers along his jawline, then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “That’s because of you.”

Beau let out a slow breath, pulling her into his arms. “Damn, I love you, woman.”

Y/N smiled against his skin. “I know.”

She kissed him again, slow and lingering, her fingers curling into his hair.

Beau sighed into her mouth, letting himself sink into the warmth of her touch. He hadn’t even realized how much he needed this—her comfort, her presence, her love.

Y/N shifted, straddling his waist, her hands splayed across his chest. “You know what else I know?” she murmured, her lips grazing against his jaw.

Beau smirked. “What’s that, darlin’?”

Y/N kissed him again, deeper this time, pressing her body fully against his. “You need to be thoroughly reminded of how good of a man you are.”

Beau groaned, his grip tightening around her waist. “That right?”

She hummed, nipping lightly at his bottom lip. “Mmhmm.”

Beau flipped them easily, settling between her legs, his lips moving along her neck, down to her collarbone. “Y’know, I was feelin’ a little down,” he murmured against her skin.

Y/N giggled, arching into him. “Let me fix that.”

Beau grinned before kissing her breathless, letting her take away every doubt, every weight he carried—until all that was left was them.

Together.

Always.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl, @deans-baby-momma, @kickingitwithkirk, @kmc1989, @ozwriterchick

Want to be a part of this tag list or others? Comment here to be added! And check out my other stories that are currently being written!

[exouniverse]

Should I write a second part to Not by Happenstance with Kyungsoo coming back home? This time from reader’s perspective? This is the fic with most notes here… I might, I might… at least a drabble… who knows 👀🤷🏻‍♀️

[luck-of-the-drawings]

smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.