#love how i always use those tags despite seeming like the only person on this site who blogs about it lmao

[wheelie-butch]

at wheelchair rugby this week we had an able-bodied woman come and try out a session with us because she's doing a challenge to try 40 different sports this year and it was really cool feeling like this isn't just a sport you do because you're locked out of others, this is something fun and cool people want to get into?

At the moment I feel there's a sort of difficulty with wheelchair sports where a lot of the time able-bodied people can't really join in because there's just not enough equiptment (and money really) to allow that and of course you need to prioritise the people who it's mainly for. But I'd love to be able to bring my non-disabled friends to 5s rugby with me the same as when I was abled I'd bring them to martial arts or badminton or whatever. Dreaming of a beautiful world where there is enough funding and wheelchairs for 5s rugby to be treated not just as a disability sport but a sport for everyone.

[breadbrobin]

fate

clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of apollo reader]

[part 2 to the trees]

summary: clarisse is being weirdly standoffish, and you’re not one to cave to that, no matter how much you like her. and no matter how things go, you still have to get your weapons from the forest.

warnings: swearing, arguing, fighting, monsters, PINING BUT THEYRE IDIOTS, everyone’s so mad at each other rn, kissing (AHHHH), canon typical violence, again probably slightly ooc clarisse but hey i love her anyway

word count: 3.2k

(uhhh so this is probably not what anyone was expecting for part two but this is how i alway a planned it, so here it is!! tag list in reblogs and also thank you for the love on the trees! i love you all so much <3 and i’d die for you just like clarisse and this dumb bitch here would die for each other)

(this is much more enemies to lovers than the first one btw so have fun)

———————————————

the day after capture the flag was always a little tense. of course it was. half the camp had just lost, and not many people at camp were good losers, especially not those who got their butts kicked.

this time, though, there was a new level of tension in the air.

ares kids didn’t often run the flag over the line themselves, and those who did were crowing about it at breakfast, then all morning too.

curiously, clarisse wasn’t. she was eating in silence, picking through her eggs like she was searching for something.

you’d never seen her like that before. no one had. but, it seemed you were the only person to notice. you always were, and you were okay with that.

your brother nudged your arm and shot you a questioning look, but you brushed him off with a smile.

why was clarisse so down? she’d won. what did she have to be upset about? was she mad at you? did you do something to piss her off in the tree? she hadn’t seemed exactly happy when she left.

stuck in your thoughts, you didn’t realise she’d met your eyes until your brother elbowed you.

“ow! what do you want?” you snapped, rubbing your rib cage tenderly.

“clarisse is staring at you,” he said with wide eyes. “dude… what did you do?”

“nothing,” you scoffed and stood up, taking your empty plate to the stack of dirty dishes, trying—and failing—to not look at clarisse as you left.

“y/n, wait up!”

you slowed down for sam as he jogged to catch up to you. there was a newfound bitterness in your mouth when you saw him. you’d never liked him, not like he’d liked you, but you’d never felt like you wanted to be away from him. not like you did in that moment then. but where would you go? to clarisse? yeah, right, she’d laugh in your face, regardless of whatever happened—or might have happened—in that tree.

“what’s up?” you asked. you couldn’t help your voice being drier than usual.

“just wanted to see how those arrows did you? were they good? i can make some more, if you want.” he looked almost eager to do so.

you smiled kindly. he really was sweet. “they were great, thanks, sam. best arrows i’ve ever used, even if i didn’t get too much of a chance to use them.” your steps faltered. “i did leave one in the forest though. i’ll have to get that later.”

your eyes locked on clarisse as she walked towards you down the path. two of her siblings were behind her, laughing, but she wasn’t. in fact, her jaw was set tight and she was glaring. at sam.

“i could come with you?” he suggested. “watch your back. keep you safe, you know?”

clarisse scoffed as she passed. “she doesn’t need you to keep her safe, tool-box.”

that was a little mean. sure, sam carried his tool-box everywhere, but you never know what might need to be fixed! despite yourself, you had to hold in a laugh. your eyes were alight with amusement as you locked gaze with clarisse.

she looked proud of herself, a jaunty grin on her lips. you couldn’t help your gaze dropping to them briefly. she smiled wider. it was infuriating. she now knew what her effect on you was, and she was using it.

“if she needed someone to protect her, she’d come to me, right, angel?” she tilted her head.

your mouth was infuriatingly dry. you nodded. “uh—“

“whatever,” sam snapped. “come on, y/n. let’s go.”

you kind of wanted to stay, but his grip on your arm didn’t leave any room for an argument. you trailed after him as he left, glancing over your shoulder just in time to see clarisse’s face darken with anger.

“angel?” sam scoffed. “who does she think she is?”

“uh…”

“whatever. gods, she’s just so—“ he turned and faced you, almost causing you to bump into his chest. you’d never seen him so intense before. “stay away from her, y/n. seriously. she’s bad news.”

“she’s nice to me,” you protested.

“she’s not nice to anyone. don’t be naive.” he turned on his heel and started to walk away, then turned back, his face softer. “come on. do you want to learn how to weld? you said you did last week.”

did you? you didn’t remember that. but you did vaguely remember a conversation with sam that you spent zoned out and staring at clarisse as she trained, so that was probably it. “oh, no… i have to… train…”

he looked disappointed, but nodded. “okay, that’s cool. maybe another day. or maybe, we can… go for a walk together? or even have lunch on the beach?”

you nodded absently. “maybe.”

“great, it’s a date!”

you frowned. “it’s a what?”

he looked happier than you’d ever seen him. he even kissed your cheek before walking off, a new spring in his step. you stood there for a moment, eyes wide, wondering what the hell just happened. then you heard a scoff from behind you.

when you turned around, clarisse was walking away.

“clarisse,” you said softly, jogging after her. “clarisse, wait!”

“go hang out with your boyfriend, l/n.” she snapped, her arms crossed as she walked. “he’s probably waiting for you so you two can make out in that sweaty little sex dungeon they call a workshop.”

your eyebrows shot up. “okay, first of all, i’m pretty sure it is actually a workshop, and second of all, he’s still not my boyfriend!”

she scoffed again but didn’t answer, stomping up the steps to the ares cabin and stopping at the top, looking down at you.

you felt small under her gaze, but you didn’t back down.

“what are you doing here?” she asked after a moment.

“you said i could come get a new dagger,”you said.

she rolled her eyes and leaned on the porch railing. “and?”

you frowned, looking up at her. “and… i’m here to get one?”

she regarded you for a few seconds in silence, then, just as she was about to speak, a new voice called out.

“clarisse, are you giving out girlfriend privileges already?” one of her brothers, marcus, you thought, stepped into the doorway of the cabin and peered around her to look at you. he looked like a stereotypical son of ares: buff, tall and mean. “that’s cute.” he continued, looking at you like you were an animal in a zoo.

“she’s not my girlfriend,” she scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

well, that hurt.

“yeah, we’re just—“

“we’re not even friends,” she added hurriedly, not even looking at you. “she just thinks she’s special.”

your jaw clenched. that really hurt. “i don’t think i’m special,” you snapped. “i think i want you to honour your word from yesterday or go and get my dagger out of the forest for me.”

“not my fault you forgot your dagger,” she studied her nails nonchalantly.

“but if you hadn’t thrown my dagger out of a tree and tossed my new arrow aside like it was trash then i wouldn’t have forgotten. and maybe if you hadn’t leaned in like you were about to kiss me, maybe i wouldn’t have forgotten either.” your gaze was as sharp as hers was, meeting in the middle with fire and lightning crackling between you.

she stepped forward, face to face with you. for a second, you thought she’d punch you, but you didn’t back down.

then she laughed. it wasn’t at all like her laugh in the tree the day before. this was her cold, cruel laugh that she usually saved for her victims. with a start, you realised that’s what you were: another victim of clarisse la rue. your heart broke for a split second before you pulled yourself together and straightened your back, meeting her eyes.

“kiss you?” she snickered. “get your head out of your ass, angel, you’re not all that because you can shoot a bow and climb a tree.”

you stepped closer to her, so you were right up in her face. “and you’re not all that because you scare away everyone who cares about you, just because your daddy’s a little mean. you don’t need to be a bitch about everything.”

you regretted it instantly. you’d gone too far. you knew that.

her face dropped and a hurt look flashed through her eyes, but it died as soon as it came to life.

you stepped back and turned, marching away.

“where are you going?” she called after you. “we’re not finished here!”

“you have something else to say to me, clarisse, you come find me!” you shot back, your voice hard. you didn’t start arguments often, but goddamn did you finish them.

you stomped into the forest, determined to find your dagger and arrow so you could prove to both clarisse and sam that you were capable of more than just shooting arrows from trees and running away from fights.

it was darker today. the clouds that covered camp half-blood permeated through the forest, leaving a heavy weight suspended among the trees. the air felt thicker, even, and the birdsong seemed quieter than usual. was there something around? something hanging in the air, waiting to attack you? drag your body back to camp and leave it on clarisse’s doorstep like a cat bringing in a dead bird?

or was your fear just because you were alone instead of with the rest of camp.

whatever it was, it put you on edge.

there was a clicking sound behind you, like someone was cracking a joint, but when you turned, no one was there. you weren’t foolish enough to call out.

you could feel a chill going down your spine, and that’s when you knew: the first shoe had dropped.

your eyelids fluttered and you nearly dropped to the ground, but you leaned heavily against a tree to catch yourself. typical. go out on your own, thinking you can take care of yourself and you get hit with a premonition. how’s that for fate?

you let the feeling wash over you; the pure panic of the near future and the warm grip of a hand on your wrist, like someone was pulling you along.

the future was not looking promising.

there was another clicking sound behind you as you finally managed to straighten up, much closer this time.

you turned around.

the bushes were rustling.

you suddenly realised what that clicking sound was.

mandibles.

two ants the size of german shepherds burst through the foliage. myrmeke.

there was the other shoe, dropping real hard.

“shit!” you stumbled backward, reaching for a weapon. you had no weapon. “double shit!”

you turned and ran.

the ants were fucking fast. they could have caught up to you if you weren’t so agile, turning and springing off in different directions every few steps, sending them careening into trees and rocks. that was the only thing keeping you alive.

where even were you? you didn’t recognise this area. hopefully you weren’t running directly for their anthill. that would be a real twist of fate.

then you burst into a new area, this one with a large tree—a large tree that you recognised.

“yes!” you exclaimed, dashing for the trunk. you found your dagger easily, then your discarded arrow too. you didn’t know what good they’d do against the myrmeke, considering that their shells were as hard as armour and, while force was good in some cases, you had to admit that sharpness may have helped you against them.

you couldn’t run anymore. your screaming lungs told you that. you couldn’t climb either. the ants could climb better than you and you’d be a sitting duck up there, no matter how high you went. but maybe, just maybe, you could hold them off until they got bored or someone realised you were missing.

it wasn’t easy, but you managed to deflect and dodge the myrmeke’s attacks. they were fast, but you were faster. you even managed a swipe at one of their legs as you rolled past, but all it did was leave a tiny chink in its armour.

you were beginning to lose hope.

honestly, what you wouldn’t give for a spear right now. your blunt dagger and slim arrow were about as good as a toothpick against these monsters.

just as you were backed against the tree that you’d once found a safe haven, you heard a battle cry. you could have sobbed from relief, but instead, as the spear-wielding figure landed on top of one of the ants, driving her weapon into the gap between its armoured plates, you took your opportunity to stab your arrow with as much force as you could into the other ant’s gaping mouth, slipping it precisely between its mandibles and, hopefully, into its brain.

it jerked back in pain and screeched, the sound making your ears ring, but it didn’t die. instead, it looked rightfully pissed off, and now it had an arrow sticking from its mouth.

as your saviour pulled her spear from the ants back, a warm, brown liquid sprayed on you. it smelled like ants always did after you crushed them, just a million times worse. you wondered if this was revenge for all the ants you’d murdered in your life.

“gross!” you exclaimed, wiping it off your face.

“grow up, bows, we gotta go!” clarisse. your saviour was clarisse. of course.

just as you were about to protest, two more myrmeke crept out of the forest towards you.

she gripped your wrist, right where that warmth was in your premonition, and dragged you away, making you drop your dagger in the rush.

“i dropped my—“

“save it!” she snapped, pulling you along.

the desperation in her voice kicked you into gear and you started running faster, alongside her now.

you didn’t use the same tactics as before. instead of dodging, you just ran as fast as you could and prayed that the myrmeke would be slower. clarisse seemed to know where she was going, at least.

“you’re such an idiot!” clarisse yelled as they ran.

“we’re doing this now?” you panted incredulously.

“you could have died!”

“we’ll both die if you don’t stop yelling at me!”

finally, gloriously, you breached the edge of the forest and stepped into camp. the myrmeke wouldn’t follow you there.

you dropped to you knees, panting and staring into the forest. clarisse was standing in front of you, her spear ready, just in case.

you’d stepped into a quiet part of camp up behind the amphitheatre, so there was no one around to see you, and no one around to help you. you had a feeling that if the myrmeke didn’t kill you, clarisse wouldn’t hesitate.

once it was clear that they weren’t following, she rounded on you.

you were still on your knees, your legs too tired and shaky with adrenaline to stand, but she didn’t seem to care.

“what were you thinking, going in on your own?” she snapped.

“well i wasn’t expecting to get attacked by killer ants within the camp’s borders!” you protested.

“everyone knows they’re there.”

“i forgot, okay? i’m not perfect.”

“oh, i know.” she rolled her eyes.

“gods, would you just fuck off?” you finally stood up, face to face with her. “you’re horrible sometimes, you know that? i can’t believe i’ve defended you.”

“i don’t need your defending.”

“and i don’t need your help!”

“you would have died!” she yelled, emphasising every word.

“but i didn’t!” you shouted back.

she rolled her eyes and stepped closer, anger practically radiating off her. “yeah, thanks to me. you’d be dead if i hadn’t followed you in there—“

“why did you follow me?” you asked suddenly, voice harsh.

“what?”

“why did you follow me?” you asked again, slower. “i didn’t ask you to look after me, clarisse.”

there it was again. that slightly relaxation of her shoulders when you said her name. it drove you nuts. you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss her for hours or throw her to the myrmeke.

she tensed up again and turned to leave. “whatever. i’m done here.”

“i’m not!” you gripped her shoulder and pulled her back around. to your surprise, she didn’t pull a weapon on you. “why did you follow me, clarisse? was it the same reason that you were flirting with me yesterday? and why you’re so protective of me? and why you hate sam?”

“i wasn’t flirting with you,” she grumbled. “and i hate sam for… personal reasons. and i’m not protective of you! why would you even think that?”

“that’s all bullshit and you know it,” you sneered.

“gods, you aggravate me!” she exclaimed.

“you didn’t have to come help me,” you scoffed, stepping back. “i didn’t ask for your help.”

“and i didn’t want to help you!”

“then why did you? huh? you could handle not winning a fight? you wanted to finish the argument on your terms?” your eyebrows were raised and your face was cold. “or were you gonna beat me up but the giant killer ants got to me first?”

she looked like she was about to explode with anger. “because i love you!”

the air escaped from your lungs in one sharp moment, and it looked like hers did the same thing.

“what?” you asked, your voice softer.

it was silent. she looked like she was trying to find something to say, but couldn’t. her mouth opened and closed weakly, and she shook her head, lips pressed together. you wanted to kiss her.

so you did.

she tensed up as your hands came to her waist, pulling her body and lips against yours hard. then, finally, she relaxed. she dropped her spear at your feet and raised her hands to your hair, threading her fingers through the strands. she was a softer kisser than you’d expected, but it was definitely her. it was all her. the tug on your hair, the underlying, undeniable harshness of the kiss, the spear that rested against your foot. it was perfectly clarisse. you could have kissed her until the sun went down and the ants came and carried you both to their anthill, and if you stayed kissing her like this, you wouldn’t even mind.

when, finally, you pulled away, you were both breathing heavily. all of the tension from the fight hid dissipated, leaving only a warm sparkling in the air, like a mirage around her face in the sunlight. maybe that was a sign? or a vision? whatever it was, it was heaven-sent.

she was smiling. she looked softer like this. gods, you loved it. it felt like fate, and you knew a lot about fate. fate was fickle. fate was cruel. fate brought you the arguments, the myrmeke, the terror. but fate also brought you this. this girl who was glowing in the sun like she was made of pure rays of light. the girl with a spear that she laid down at your feet and would save you barehanded if you asked. the girl who had sunk into your arms like she was made to be there.

“do you think i can get that new dagger now?” you asked cheekily, playing with the hem of her camp shirt. “i mean, i have girlfriend privileges now, right, babe?”

clarisse rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “shut up, devil.”

“ooh, devil. that’s new,” you teased. “i like it. it’s apt.”

“it sure is.” she looked down. “i’m… sorry, by the way.”

“me too,” you nodded. “i didn’t really mean any of that, you know?”

“‘cause you like me,” she said in a teasing voice.

“yeah, ‘cause i like you, or whatever.” you kissed her again, smiling against her lips. “and i know you like me too, because you so did nearly kiss me in that tree yesterday.”

she shrugged. “maybe. maybe not. guess we’ll never know.”

you found out at the next capture the flag game. and the next. and the next. she would go out of her way to find you, defeat you, then kiss you before running off to win the games. and honestly, you didn’t really mind.

fate was a fickle thing, but with clarisse by your side, no one could touch you. sam left you alone, people started treating you better, and you had everything you could ask for. her.

and whenever you two argued, you’d go into the woods together and kill some ants. after all, what says ‘couple’s bonding’ quite like murder?

[hangmanssunnies]

The Hangman Special

Summary: On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word count: 7k

AO3 Link

Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, hot and heavy make-outs, exs, truth or dare, bad friends.

Author's note: Dreaming about kissing Jake in a bar. Thanks to everyone who looked at earlier drafts of this. I hope you enjoy this if you take a chance to read. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

The bar is buzzing with the loud chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of music. You are sitting at a corner table with your friends, a group with an eclectic mix of personalities. You are known for being more on the shy and reserved side, but tonight, you are even more withdrawn than usual. No one had mentioned that Tassie had also been invited to the evening's hang out at the bar. An oversight you felt was probably intentional since everyone knew Tassie had started dating your ex only a week after your breakup. She went so far as to post a picture of them together on her Instagram. It had been a few months since that happened, and until now, you had managed to avoid running into her. However, it seemed like luck had run out.

"Hey, I've got an idea that would spice up the night," Cece says after the first round of drinks. She is one of your bold and outspoken friends, and you aren't sure you like how she is eyeing you with a mischievous glint. "Let's play truth or dare." 

The whole group groans at the suggestion, and one of your friends vaguely wonders if you're all still in middle school playing that kind of game. Despite the initial lack of enthusiasm, after another round of drinks, the group is laughing and entrenched in the game. 

When Cece sings your name when she finishes her turn, you are nervous by the sly smile she is wearing as she formulates an option for you when you hesitantly concede to doing a dare. "You're the only one of us still single, so I dare you to go over to the bar and give somebody a kiss." 

"What?!" 

"Just a quick one, nothing too scandalous," Cece says placatingly. "Come on, live a little! It's just a bit of fun. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I bet they won't do it. They're too chicken for this kind of thing, not one to step out of their comfort zone," Tassie says. It makes your blood freeze in your veins because you know those words. You have heard that criticism thrown at you in the past, but not from her, from your ex. 

Your eyes narrow at her, and you ask, "Too chicken? Seriously?"

"Yeah. Please, prove us wrong. Show us you can do something spontaneous," Tassie taunts, grinning. You feel a surge of defiance welling up. Even though you're reserved, you are not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the woman who cheated with your boyfriend is acting like you're the one who should be ashamed. Acting like she is better than you. 

"Fine, watch this," You declare, feeling hot with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. As you stand up, your friends exchange amused glances, convinced that you are about to back out of the dare. 

With absolutely no intention of  backing down, though, you scan the bar. After a moment of examination your heart soars because you realize you have this dare in the bag. You have the advantage even, because there is a familiar tall, broad-shouldered blonde at the bar that you know all too well. Jake Seresin, or Hangman, is one of your brother's best friends, and he is looking just as delectable tonight as he always does. The group would undeniably be impressed with you kissing someone so handsome, and you knew one way or another you could convince Jake to help you out. 

"Cece, I'll even let you pick since you made the dare. Point out the hottest man in the bar, and I'll kiss him." You say confidently. There is no doubt that Jake is the most attractive person there, and he is just Cece's type, too. She falls right into what you want, pointing Hangman out for you. The rest of your friend group hoots, making even more comments that you aren't going to follow through with the dare and approach someone who is that drop-dead gorgeous. 

Ignoring their taunts, you square your shoulders and walk with as much confidence as you can summon into sashaying across the bar. Putting mental effort into trying to project some form of hotness onto yourself not only for the confidence boost but also the bit of spite burning in you. 

Reaching the bartop area, the hesitation starts to set in as you admire Jake's profile. He is sitting on a bar stool leaning against the counter, patiently waiting for the bartender in the crowd that is starting to grow. Taking one last breath to steady yourself, you reach out and delicately set a hand on his bulging bicep. 

"Hangman!" You say brightly as if you're surprised to have run into him. Jake turns to face you at your touch, and an easy wide grin spreads across his face. 

"Fancy seeing you here, my dear! How are you?" He asks as his eyes trace you slowly from head to toe and back again, the grin on his face not slipping once. 

"Oh, I’m fine, and I am so glad I ran into you." 

"Most people are," Jake says, winking at you. You are nearly distracted by his handsome face and flirty tone. He looks like he has put on even more muscle since you saw him last. The green button-down he is wearing appears close to bursting at the seams with how it clings to him. "So, what have you been up to these days?" 

"Are you still single?" You blurt quickly, ignoring his question, not wanting to lose your steam. 

"Yes, Ma'am. Last I checked. Why?" 

"Perfect, can you do me a huge favor?" You ask. 

"I'm always happy to help out a friend," Jake says, sounding increasingly suspicious. The smile hasn't dropped from his face, but his eyes have narrowed slightly, examining you. 

Quickly standing on your tip toes, you loop an arm around Jake's neck, appreciating that he is sitting on a stool, helping level your height difference. Wasting no time, you pull him down to meet you in a quick kiss. Once his lips brush yours, you let go of him, stepping back, not even taking a moment to savor the feeling or enjoy having Jake this close. 

With your mission accomplished, you have every intention of making a hasty retreat back to your friends and hoping that you will be able to forget this. You are going to erase knowing you've kissed Jake Seresin from your brain, and then the next time you see him, you're going to pretend this fiasco never happened. It feels like the best and only course of action for you to take. 

However, you don't even get to make a full step away from Jake before large hands and thick arms circle around your waist, pulling you back towards him. He tugs until you are standing between his spread thighs, his hands maintaining their position on your waist. 

"Woah now, where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyes darting around your face, studying you closely. 

Embarrassment at having to explain your actions rushes through you, turning your stomach and overriding or maybe enhancing the butterflies there. You glance away from Jake towards your friends and see them watching with rapt attention. Then his thumb moves in a slow soothing circle, drawing you back towards him. 

"I'm sorry! My friends dared me to kiss someone at the bar, and when I saw you, well, I knew it wasn't a lost cause because you're not a complete stranger." 

You refuse to believe that the frown that flashes on Jake's face is one of disappointment. However, it's hard to ignore when his eyebrows are scrunched together, and his hands are so warm you feel it bleeding through your clothing. 

"You could at least buy someone a drink before stealing a kiss, you know. That's just some common decency." 

"I'm so sorry, Jake," you apologize again. "Let me buy you a beer for your troubles." 

"Naw, you don't got to." 

"Well, now I have to because you made me feel bad," you say, waving your arm to try and flag down a bartender. 

"I didn't take you for one to just kiss someone on a dare," he says conversationally. You try not to wriggle uncomfortably in his hold, but without even trying, he seems to have pulled you even closer. 

"I normally wouldn't be," you agree. "But the girl who I highly suspect of cheating with my ex while we were still together is here. I'm sure she thinks she's better than me and that I'm a boring prude."

"She clearly has never been around when you drink tequila," Jake laughs. You can't believe he would still remember the camping trip from years ago, where you were drinking tequila. Definitely notable because it was probably the last time you had dared have any of the liquor. 

"Can you please forget about that? And tonight, too?" You request. Jake pretends to think it over, humming lightly before shaking his head. 

"Sorry, no can do. It's already burned into my eidetic memory." You huff at his response, avoiding eye contact with him to try and catch sight of the bartender again. "You know, if you just asked me first, I would have given you the friends and family discount." 

"And what is that?" 

"Pretty similar to buy one get one free," he says, his voice dropping a little lower. Your mouth falls open in surprise, but you can't find any words. "Could have given you more than a quick peck, something that would really wow your friends." 

Trying very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss Jake would consider wowing, you decide to deflect. Jokingly saying, "Didn't think you were from one of those kinda southern states. Do you make a habit of kissing family members?" 

Jake throws his head back and laughs full-bellied at you. "The friends and family of my friends discount then," he amends. 

"I already hate being in this situation. I don't want more of a pity handout than I've already taken."

"Darlin," he sighs, shaking his head at you. "I would have even given you the Hangman special. Which is a deal, bargain, and steal. Comes with a kiss that's guaranteed to impress friends, people who cheated with your atrocious ex, everyone in this bar, and has even been known to, on occasion, inspire a standing ovation." 

"Ha.Ha. You're so funny," you say dryly, rolling your eyes. 

"I am, thank you for noticing," Jake says. "However, I think you deserve that kind of kiss to prove a point to your friends over there." 

"They didn't even think I would be able to make it over here to talk to you." You admit to him, glancing over at your friends again, a little displeased that they are still obviously observing your interaction.

"That them over there?" He asks, following the direction you're looking. You hum in acknowledgment. "Which one's the cheater?" He breathes, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, sending a shudder down your spine. 

You describe Tassie a bit to him, finding yourself shifting closer into his embrace, enjoying how he is somehow able to help most of the chaotic bar disappear from your senses. It's hard to think about the noise or the increasing number of people starting to press in when Jake's touching you. When he picks out who she is, Jake grunts a little. He lowers his face and nearly kisses your neck over the pulse point. His hot breath tickles the spot, causing shivers again as he declares, "I don't see the appeal." 

"Wish my ex felt that way," you sigh. 

"Fuck him," Jake says with conviction. Drawing a bit back from you to make eye contact again. His green eyes are clear, and in the dimmed mood light around you, they seem to shine even brighter than usual. 

"You sure you don't mind me having kissed you to prove a point?" 

"My dear," he laughs like you told him a funny joke. "I can't imagine a situation where I would mind you kissing me. Let alone one where I get to help you out." 

Sliding your hand up his chest to casually rest on his shoulder, you wonder, "Is the Hangman Special still available?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Guaranteed to be wowing?" You check. 

"Got a warranty for you and everything," Jake says lowly. 

Your hand curls around Jake's neck again, and you attempt to tug him closer to you. He doesn't even budge, though. One of his hands slowly traces up your side from your waist until he is cupping your cheek. Then Jake leans close, his breath ghosting over your lips, where he lingers for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, and as soon as they do, his lips press to yours. This time, it's not a quick peck. 

He is slow and deliberate in how he kisses you. Tilting his head to the side to get a slightly better angle, Jake uses his hand on your face to urge your lips to align better with his. Pliable to his touch, you open your mouth to him, seeking even more, and rewarded when Jake's tongue brushes against your own. You never doubted that Jake would be a good kisser, but knowing firsthand is something you know you won't be able to erase from your memory. When the kiss starts to border on indecent, he pulls away. 

You linger in the moment, keeping your eyes closed until your heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst from your chest. While you are in that limbo spot, his thumb slowly strokes your cheekbone. Sea glass green is the first thing you see when opening them again, Jake not making any effort to veil how he is admiring you. His lips are slightly pinker now than they just were, and you can't help but imagine how pink and swollen they would get if you had the opportunity to get this man alone on a couch. 

Just as you consider requesting that he kiss you again, just to really really solidify how good you are to your friends, because obviously, three kisses are much better than the one they dared you to get, you are suddenly bumped from behind. The motion roughly shoves you against Jake's solid chest. Both his hands automatically return to your waist, tightening as he steadies you there. Glaring over your shoulder at whoever bumped you, he asks, "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm okay," you breathe. Being this close to him, the woodsy scent of his cologne tickles your nose. And you suddenly wonder why exactly he is in this upscale cocktail bar dressed so nicely. 

"I'm glad you decided to kiss me and not any of these other assholes," he mutters darkly, still glaring over your shoulder. 

"Well, it wasn't really a choice." You reveal, which has his eyes snapping back to you in an instant and a frown pulling at his lips. One of his thumbs that's resumed making circles on your waist stops, and the other falls off your waist entirely now. He doesn't move otherwise, but his presence feels less consuming. Tersely, he responds, "I see." 

"I may have skewed the odds. Told my friends to pick the hottest man they could find. What would you know? They picked you." You explain quickly.

"That's some good luck on your part." 

"It wasn't luck, not really."

"How do you mean?" He wonders. 

"I knew they would pick you." 

"What made you so confident?"

"Because, Jake, you are, hands down, the most attractive person here," you reveal to him shyly. Your fingers curling into his silky shirt, where they have found themselves on his chest after being pushed. 

"See now, I don't think that's true," he says, his eyebrows pulling together. The frown is gone though, the edges of his lips quirking up again. 

"Oh please, Jake. Do not pretend you don't know how handsome you are."

"I'm aware. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're the most attractive person in this bar tonight." 

"You're a flirt," you accuse him. 

"I am," he agrees with no argument. "But that don't make me dishonest or mean I'm not genuine. I haven't been flirting with you just for the sake of it." 

Warmth blooms in your center at his words, and you nearly forget all about trying to escape away from him. Right now, you just want to get closer, as close as he will let you. However, you are pulled out of the fantasy when you look away from Jake's intense gaze to see your friends and how most of the table seems shocked and scandalized. Wryly, you notice Cece giving you two thumbs up. It's like you could almost forget that this was just him being flirty and imagine he was kissing you for more than just helping prove a point. "Well, I appreciate your help with the Hangman Special. I know they will all be impressed and jealous when I head back over there." 

"Now, wait a moment. You can't just sneak away. The Hangman Special not only comes with mind-blowing kisses but also a free night out, all expenses paid, and dinner at any restaurant you choose. "

"You just give that away to any random person who asks?"

"No, only the pretty ones I've had my eye on for a long while," Jake says, his eyes intense, the hand still on your waist flexing tighter for a moment.

"You have?" You ask, completely surprised. 

"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with no hesitation. Before you can respond, the bartender finally makes his way over to you two, asking for your order. Jake instantly defers to you before ordering, asking, "What do you want, my dear?" 

"I thought I already told you I'm taking one of the Hangman specials." You say, after taking a moment to think it over. The grin that lights up Jake's face is sunny and bright, and if you weren't being supported by his strong body, you would have probably fallen over swooning. 

Turning back to the bartender, Jake requests two bottles of water and both of your tabs. As you peek over his shoulder while he signs, you see the bill consists of just one beer, the water, and the two drinks you've had tonight. 

"So you want the full experience?" He asks you when you've taken a sip of water, and he has downed half of his in the same time. 

"From what I know about you, Jake, I don't think you're someone who does things by halves," you answer, fiddling with one of the buttons on his silky green shirt. Then you are pushing a bit on his chest, trying to step away. When you do, Jake's hands find themselves on your hips again pulling you closer to him. 

"Where you going?" He pouts. 

"I just need to grab my purse." 

"Whatcha you need your purse for, sweetheart? Don't you know I ain't going to let you pay for nothing?" Jake drawls. 

"I'm sure you want that to come off gentlemanly, but you're close to flirting with misogynistic." You say, playfully poking a finger into his chest.

"No." Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips, Jake brushes a kiss on your pulse point, saying, "I know exactly who I'm flirting with, and that is you, my dear." 

The laugh you let out is slightly involuntary, but it makes Jake look like he won a prize, so you can't be too displeased, especially not when he has resumed drawing circles on your skin, and it feels like some sort of hypnosis you never want to end. "I'll be right back, and you can keep flirting with me for as long as you like." 

"That a promise?" Jake asks.

"Sure thing," you agree, but Jake still hasn't let go of you. 

"Do you want some company?" 

"You don't have to." 

"Little worried you're going to try and sneak away," he admits. 

"But Jake, I am sneaking away," you say in a fake whisper as if sharing a secret. "Sneaking away with you from my friends and this bar." It makes him smile again, just like you were hoping it would. "Just wait here for me. Okay?"

"Okay," he reluctantly agrees. Despite agreeing, the hold he has on your hand actually slightly tightens. "One more kiss?"

"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're always going to want one more kiss."

"You already know me so well," Jake grins. You press your lips against his again in a quick kiss, careful not to get caught up in it, before slipping out of his grasp. When free, you practically skip away from Jake to grab your things. 

Arriving back to your friends, you're greeted with loud whooping and even some clapping thrown in. Cece is practically giggling as she says, "I really didn't think you had that in you." 

"What were you talking about for so long?" Another one of the group asks.

"Was that kiss as hot as he is?" Someone else wonders, and then questions are coming from every direction before you can answer any of them. 

"It was great, he's great." You manage to get in. When they start to flood you with even more questions, you cut them off. "I would love to talk all about it, but I'm sorry y'all, I'm actually just over here to grab my purse." 

"There is no way you are leaving with that guy," Tassie says incredulously. 

Irritation and anger flares up in you as you turn to glare at her. "Really, there's no way? And why would that be Tassie?" 

"Come on," she says, clearly surprised that you've decided to call her out. "You're just not the kind of person to go home with someone from the bar, and he doesn't really seem like your type." 

"I don't know how tall, handsome, funny, and phenomenal kisser could not be someone's type," You say harshly, snatching your purse and jacket from where you had been sitting. 

"I'm just trying to look out for you," she responds sharply. 

"I don't think that's true," you snap back. 

"Hey now, why don't we all chill out," your friend Marv cuts in placatingly. 

"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar southern drawl says from behind as a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. You nearly sag into Jake. The urge to explode on your friends, more specifically Tassie, instantly absorbed by his presence. "But I was promised I could take this one out on a date tonight." 

"We can't let our friend just leave with a stranger," Cece says, and you turn to narrow your eyes at her, frowning that she is butting in when she is the one who set all this into motion in the first place. 

"While I respect that, I don't think you get to make that decision," Jake says lightly and a lot nicer than you would have in that moment. 

"You could be a crazy serial killer or something," Tassie says. 

"While I am a killer, that's normally just how people describe me in bed," he answers in a flirty, exaggerated way. That has you nearly coughing, you suck in air so hard. He gently pats your back and continues on. "If you're really worried though, you can look me up on Instagram. That's at LT.H_ANGM_N. I hope y'all have a good night. I know we will be," Jake punctuates the sentence with a kiss to the side of your head. 

Stuck between laughing and balking you glance around at everyone’s surprised faces at Jake’s boldness. You know exactly what Jake's last Instagram post was, having spent several minutes the other day debating whether you should like the shirtless picture of him on the beach. 

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Jake asks you, practically muttering the words in your ear. All he needs is your nod before he confidently starts to turn you and lead you out the door. You manage to throw your friends a small wave goodbye, but it only takes a few steps for them to be out of your mind. 

"Did you drive?" Jake asks you as the fresh evening air rushes over you both. 

"No.” And you’re glad you didn’t when it means Hangman will be driving you home.  

"Good," he grins, "do you mind me driving?" 

"I don't," you answer easily, completely content to follow Jake to wherever he is going to lead you. 

He stops in front of a Jeep Gladiator, and you aren't overly surprised by his taste in vehicles. He goes to open the passenger side door for you, but you don't immediately take his offered hand to get inside. Instead, you tug it as you lean against the side of the truck. Jake follows the motion easily, not hesitating to bend down and mold his lips to yours. 

Jake looms over you, one of his hands balancing his weight against the side of the truck just over your head. The other on your side pulling you a bit closer to him. Looping your arm around his neck for some leverage, you let Jake take over your senses. The softness of his tongue paired with how he nibbles at your lower lip pulls a little whine from you.

When you have to pull away for a ragged breath, Jake groans low in his throat as you press teasing kisses down the column of his neck to the V of skin his shirt shows off. The hand on your waist slides up to cup your cheek and pulls you back to his lips. Kissing Jake is easy, he doesn't leave enough room for you to question if he's enjoying it. Nor do you have the capacity to overthink it as Jake's lips move surely and confidently with your own. All there is is him, his warm strong body, soft lips, and the calluses of his fingers. 

Leaning backward, you pull Jake with you wanting to have him pressed flush because even though you're tasting him, caged in, surrounded by him it still isn't close enough. However, the motion presses one of the Jeep’s jutting door hinges sharply into your back. You can't help but gasp a small "ow" as you try to shift. Concern creases Jake's features, and he pulls you away from his truck into his chest, glowering at the vehicle as if it had somehow betrayed him. 

"You okay, darlin?" He asks, his hands tracing down your back checking for injury. You lean more into his chest even though you don't really need the support, it's just nice to be in his arms. 

"I'm fine," you reassure him. 

"Let's get you out of harms way." He says pulling open the passenger side door. As you start to heave yourself into the tall truck Jake is practically picking you up and easily setting you in the seat. You blink at him in surprise at his show of strength. He remains there, standing in the open door, leaning closer and placing his hand just above your knee, his thumb drawing circles there. Then he asks, "So, where would you like to grab some dinner, my dear?" 

"I've heard of this really great restaurant I've been dying to go to."

"Yeah? Let's make it happen then." 

"Mhmm," you hum in confirmation. "It's called Hangman's House." 

Jake's thumb immediately stops moving and the smile on his face seems to shift. The genuine glint there slipping away, to something hard for you to really identify, practiced or guarded. Whatever the change was you don't find yourself liking it and immediately wonder where you misstepped. 

"So, Hangman's House, that's a pretty exclusive place. They don't usually do unplanned reservations," Jake says after what's nearly an awkward silence. 

"That's too bad. I heard that they have great service." You say a little dejected but glad he told you no in a casual manner that you can play off. 

"You're in luck though, my dear, because I know the owner. I think he would be willing to make an exception for us sometime, but they are better known for their breakfast menu." Jake responds upbeat again. 

"I like breakfast." You mutter in what you think is a flirty way. However, it's obvious that you've missed the mark when Jake's hand drops off your leg completely now. 

"Listen, if this is just a one-night thing, just some making out and fun stuff, where you are going to leave in the morning and pretend it never happened next time we see each other," he says seriously. Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair taking a measured breath, and you watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes. "That's fine, but I need to know it now." 

As you study his face intently it occurs to you that maybe even men like Jake Seresin have insecurities. Maybe he was used to interacting with people where more often than not they only saw him as a handsome face with a nice body. People who were ready to leave the next morning. The realization that a one night stand isn’t the series of events he is interested in with regards to you twists a pit of uncertainty in your stomach. You feel a little uneasy not sure exactly where you stand or what he wants with you. 

Reaching to catch Jake's lost hand and tangling your fingers, you start playing with the big class ring he is wearing. He allows the movement and relaxes his hand further, giving you additional leeway. The distraction of Jake's fingers gives you the courage to say, "I guess maybe I misunderstood that this was going to just be a nice fun night with you. Is that not what you were looking for?" 

"I do want that," Jake says adamantly. " However, I don't just want that." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I want to bring you flowers, dance with you, write you love letters. I want to explore every inch of your body and heart until I know what makes you tick. I want you to forget that any other man besides me even exists." Jake presses himself close to you again, and he turns his hand to thread your fingers tightly together. "Now I'm good, and I mean really good my dear, but those aren't goals I can make happen in one evening. So I want to start with tonight, taking you out and giving you a good time. And then I want to do the same thing tomorrow or whenever you have free time. I want to do that for as long as you will let me." 

"Oh wow," you breathe, taken aback by his declaration. "That's kind of a lot." 

"I know, but I don't want my intentions to be unclear. I wasn't lying when I said I've had my eye on you for a while. I'm happy to go at whatever pace you need; I'll do whatever you want. However, if this was all just getting back at your ex and proving a point. If you can't see yourself wanting anything more with me past tonight again, I need to know." Now, Jake takes his turn playing with your fingers as he breaks eye contact to stare at where you're intertwined. "I'll happily let you break my heart, but I don't want to be blindsided by it. 

Surging forward, you pull Jake in to kiss you again. It's an awkward angle, and the way the truck makes you taller than him feels odd. However, none of that matters when his lips are so pliable against yours. 

"I don't want to break your heart," you tell him between kisses. "I want to go on dates with you, and I want to go home with you. I want to go to bed with you and do it more than once if we find out we are compatible." 

"Are you doubting our compatibility?" Jake asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Not really, but you know it's better to make sure with these things. Have to double check, I think." 

"That makes sense," he concedes. 

"Now let's get some food so you can take me home and then to bed. Show me these killer skills you mentioned earlier." 

"We can do a lot tonight, but we can't sleep together," Jake says mournfully.

"Why not?" You ask confused. 

"Everyone knows you don't sleep together until the third date," Jake drawls.

"That's a cliche. Plus, why does it really matter?" 

"Because I've been dreaming about forever with you, and when you want forever with someone, you don't want to skip any steps." Jake answers, dead serious and earnestly. It makes you wish you weren't in such an awkward position in the truck. If you were still outside pressed against it, or in the bar even, it would be so much easier to show him the appreciation and affection burning inside. 

"We've got to be somewhere near the third date by now. We have tonight and that camping trip we went on. Oh, and that one time that everyone went bowling. Plus, there was that bonfire a few months ago!" You say, trying to think of occasions you and Jake had spent a good amount of time together. While considering it, you also realize he has nearly always gravitated to your side during group interactions, and going off tonight, that clearly wasn't as coincidental as you had previously thought. 

"You deserve real dates," Jake responds with conviction, and the look in his eye really isn't something you can or even want to argue with. There isn't anything wrong with someone wanting to act like a gentleman with you; it's actually flattering, especially when it's clear Jake isn't going to play any guessing games with you concerning his feelings. 

"Well, then we are wasting time when we could be on our first date," you say, pressing another peck to his lips and lightly pushing him away from you. 

"One last kiss," Jake whispers as he lurches close again for another peck. Then, he gently closes your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, asking where you want to get a bite to eat. 

The two of you end up at a fancy Italian restaurant where you share an appetizer, bottle of wine, and dessert. During dessert, Jake insists you pose for a picture. Despite your initial resistance, he convinces you, and then, nearly as soon as he takes it, your phone lights up with a notification telling you that you’ve tagged you in his story. He tells you before you even ask that he hopes your friends looked him up on Instagram but requests that you repost it on your own just in case they didn't. He claimed it's so they know he's not kidnapped you, but you suspect that it's more likely he wants to prove a point. And it's something you don't mind one bit, especially when he easily lets you post a picture of him on your own story. 

After the restaurant, Jake drives you both out of town a bit to where the sky is much clearer and the stars are visible. The evening isn't warm enough to cuddle in the truck bed like he wanted, so instead, you end up in the backseat with the moon roof completely rolled back. You manage to pretend to be looking at the stars for about three whole minutes before crawlingl into Jake's lap to kiss him. 

Before the making out can get too heated, Jake grips your chin, urging your face upwards to look through the moonroof. Gruffly, he mutters into your ear, telling you to behave. Words that only make you squirm in your newfound place sitting on his lap. He lets you stay there, though, his hands steady on your hips, and his lips leisurely brushing yours or your neck whenever inspiration strikes. 

"What were you doing out tonight looking so nice?" You wonder absentmindedly, unbuttoning the top button of Jake's shirt. It's not with an ulterior motive. Really, it's because Jake's shirt is so soft, and the top of it is hiding his dog tags from you, which you have suddenly decided is unacceptable. The new skin exposed to you is just an added benefit. 

"Ah, nothing to worry about darlin'." 

"Common, you can tell me," you say, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

"You know, whinnies?" 

It takes you a moment to place the restaurant and remember that it's across the street from the bar where you met up with your friends. "The wine bar?" 

"Yeah," Jake confirms. "Well, I was on a date there." 

"Oh." When Jake doesn't say anything, you decide you have to push the conversation forward. "So, what happened to your date? Were they not nice?"

"No, she was real sweet," Jake says, and you feel your stomach drop as if you aren't in the back of his truck and sitting in his lap right now.

"So why did you end up at Gem's?" 

"I was checking Instagram before she got there, and I saw you post that you were at Gems, right across the street. And no matter how nice she was, I knew it wasn't fair that I was thinking of a different person the whole time. So, we didn't even make it through appetizers before I had to be honest with her about that, and then I swung by Gems, hoping I would bump into you." 

"You were at the bar just to see me?"

"Sure was. So imagine my surprise when you found and approached me first."

"How would it have gone if you had approached me first?" You wonder. 

"For one, I would have offered to buy you a drink before stealing a kiss," Jake says teasingly. 

"You're not going to let that go, are you?" 

"Probably not for a while," he tells you. You groan and hide your face in his neck as if that will save you from some of the embarrassment. Feeling his chuckles in his throat and rumble in his chest is soothing, and you pepper more kisses to his neck and collarbone as if you were tracing the sound.

"You wouldn't have left without a kiss, though?" 

"I wouldn't have left without seeing you, and I would have done everything to try and convince you to give me one," Jake promises. 

"How would you have kissed me for the first time?" 

"Are you asking for another demonstration?" he wonders. As soon as you nod in affirmation, he pulls you close, repositioning you on his lap so you're straddling him. The darkness of the truck makes it so you can't quite see how green his eyes are, despite that they are still somehow bright.  He holds eye contact with you for a long moment. His hand cups your cheek, and like earlier in the night, he pauses, not closing the gap, observing you close. When you try to lean forward and seal your lips, he backs his head away. Then he chastises you while wearing a smirk, "I'm goin' to kiss you, baby. Now, let me do it how I want." 

Anticipation tingles in you as Jake leans close; however, at the last minute, he swerves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then the other cheek, your forehead, and your nose. Finally, his lips meet yours firmly. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the kiss. The feeling of being intimately connected to Jake again is nearly the same as relief. When your mouth opens, Jake licks into you, searching out your tongue with his own. 

There no longer seems to be any will in Jake to tamper down the heat of your kissing. He allows you each time you push the envelope of the moment being just the soft sweet first date kissing he initially claimed to want. As he sucks on the sweet spot, her discovers on your neck, the way you grind downwards is involuntary and completely by accident. A low moan comes from Jake, and you like the way it sounds. So, the next time you grind down on him, it's completely intentional. 

The dark slacks he is wearing don't do much to conceal his hardened length. After a few more rolls of your hips, Jake's hands tightly grip your waist helping you grind against him. He urges you into a rhythm that has whimpers, moans, and gasps passing from both your mouths between hot kisses. As you try to speed up, frantic lust beating so loud you can hear it in your ear, he doesn't let you. Though you are on top of him, there is no doubt that Jake is in complete control. 

Just from this night, it's not difficult to imagine how he will be in the bedroom. Strong,  consuming, and in control. You can picture how he will confidently lead you exactly where you want to go, and you will get there because just a back of the car's make-out shouldn’t cause someone to be as turned on as you are right now. You unbutton his shirt and let your hands roam over his chest. Dragging your nails along his abs causes a full body shudder and Jake to grip your ass so hard you think you might bruise. It doesn't bother you, though, because how can anything that gets you closer to his cock be a bad thing? 

“Jake,” you say in a sudden moment of clarity. He hums his acknowledgment but keeps kissing at your neck and squeezing at your ass. A particularly hard thrust upwards from him nearly has your brain going fuzzy as you desperately try to hold yourself together.  “Jake,” you repeat more forcefully, “we need to stop.” 

“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned, detaching his lips from your skin and losing his hold so he is barely touching you. 

“If we keep at this I'm going to beg you to fuck me right here right now,” you answer. He makes a strangled groan. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, and hard dick you're sure he wouldn't actually mind. “Which would be amazing but you told me about a three date rule and I agreed.” 

“I did say three dates,” he responds and looks like he hates himself for it. 

“But if it doesn't actually matter I would like to suck your cock at least once before we fuck.” You boldly tell him, twisting his dog tags in your fingers pulling them taut against Jake’s neck until the release beads give away. The chain falls into your grasp, and you use the warm metal to distract yourself. 

“Fuck me,” he breathes throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning back. “You're perfect, you know that?” 

“I'm not.” 

“You are. So perfect, so hot.” He kisses you like he's about to ignore what you just said. Hot and a little sloppy with tongue and a bit at your lower lip. When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours saying, “We are going to stop now  because I don't want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that I'll keep the promises I make to you.”

Your stomach flips with affection, and you sag, leaning heavily into Jake, just hugging him tightly, waiting for the lust that's sparked to cool. The two of you even manage to get some actual stargazing in where hands roam but in more so in an exploratory way than sexual. 

Holding hands driving back into the city you can’t stop staring at Jake’s profile, or admiring his fingers or tracing the veins of his forearms. You are focusing on trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, you're definitely going to wake up with hickies in the morning, and another date with Jake Seresin scheduled tomorrow. It’s something that if you had been told at the start of your evening, you would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea. 

"I know it's really soon, but do you think that if you asked me again in a few weeks if I'm still single, we'll be able to change my answer?" Jake asks you after a bit breaking the comfortable silence you two had been in. 

"I think that's possible. What do you think about that?" You wonder. 

"I would change my answer tonight if you wanted me to."

"Jake..."

"Listen, I really like you, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. So as soon as you give me the okay, I will bring you flowers with a promise ring and ask if you want to go steady with me." Jake's thumb rubs along your pulse affectionately, "I'll change my Facebook relationship status. I'll get a nice little charm with your name on it for my dog tags. I'll take you to meet my friends and brag about how amazing you are." Jake leans over at a red light to press a soft kiss to your lips. "The whole shebang." 

"That sounds nice. Does that deal have a special name, too?" 

"Yeah, we can call it the Jake special. It is a whole package, long-term, all-inclusive deal." 

"Extended warranty?" You check jokingly.

"It actually has a no-return, no-refund policy," Jake answers.

"That's a pretty big commitment," you whisper back, even though the idea of keeping Jake all to yourself sounds nothing but appealing. 

"It's not something that expires. So how about tonight, we just worry about getting you home where you're going to let me walk you to your front door and give you a kiss goodnight."

"Just one kiss?" You ask in a pretend pout. 

"Let's shoot for two, but don't be surprised if it's three, maybe even four." 

"I want five," you declare stubbornly.

"Then I'll give you six," he easily offers. 

You try to hide your smile but don't quite manage it. It's a permanent fixture the whole drive home and during all seven of the goodnight kisses you get. They aren't the best kisses in the world because Jake is smiling through them, too. It's okay, though, because you both know there's going to be more in the future, a lot more. 

[sanesuki]

Morning Routine

Slightly Aged Up AU | From being childhood friends to being third years in UA High School… she never would’ve expected her life would revolve around waking up next to Katsuki Bakugo. The boy she’s known since she was small. Yet here she is, next to an unexpectedly soft boy whose goal is now, not only to be the number one hero. But to be her hero.

(Additional extra funny scene at the end including Bakusquad + Todoroki)

No Manga Spoilers :)

Katsuki Bakugo X Y/N

Word Count : 1.9k (extra scene is another 1.9k)

Incase you don’t know what this term means :

Y/N = Your Name

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“What are you smiling at?” He grumbles, turning to face you as you laid on his dorm bed, his fingers brushing your arm. He knew he wasn't supposed to be there with you, he was supposed to be training with the idiots in the ‘Bakusquad’ — instead, he chose to be with you. He often trained alone but now the morons wanted to tag along, mainly just trying to have him buy them ice cream after their jog. He was supposed to meet them an hour ago.

Katsuki Bakugo actually ignored his morning training for some girl. What has the world come to.

Her gentle eyes meet those gorgeous pools of red. Pure red. Like gemstones. Oh how she loved his eyes, “I’m just happy” she says in a mumble followed shortly by a soft hum. She won’t ever get over waking up with him in the mornings. Sneaking into his dorm late at night despite it being against the rules.

His bed was different then hers. Warmer. Inviting. Or maybe it was him. Whenever she tries snuggling against his chest, he sighs and holds her. In the beginning he protested, spouting off about how he’s not the mushy type. As time went on, he never won that argument. So eventually, he gave up and ended up holding her every time she came over and slid into his bed. It developed into a habit.

Now he can’t seem to let her go, his personal pillow. While he’s her personal heater. His quirk makes his body warmer than others.

“Whatever” he sighed, his arms wrapping around your waist as he practically pulled you on top of him. On top of his body as she’s sprawled over him. His fingers tracing along your skin in gentle circles.

“They’re gonna be wondering where I was, y’know..” he mumbled, burying his face into your neck and breathing in the scent of your shampoo. Her scent mixed in with the scent of his body wash. To which she used to shower last night.

“They’ll live… it’s not a crime for you to miss a morning jog” she says as she peppers gentle kisses on his cheeks. If she did this months ago he would be awkwardly stiff as she showered him with physical affection. Now being 3rd years in UA, he’s accepted her gentle touches.

“Mm, maybe not, but it certainly does raise some eyebrows,” he mumbled, his head tilting to catch your lips on his. He leaned up to kiss you properly, his hand gripping your hip to keep you in place. He had a point — the last thing the two of you needed right now was people getting suspicious of whatever was going on between you two.

But she can't help but be a bit selfish, wanting him for herself. How can she help it when he’s so perfect?

Her eyes flutter close as his lips meet hers. He’s such a feisty person, yet his touches are always so gentle. The two started dating at the beginning of their second year at UA.

After the war, everything changed. Y/N and Bakugo have known eachother since they were little yet this romance between them has only ever developed since they entered UA. She got a front row seat at how he slowly changed for the better. How he genuinely tried getting past his own insecurities yet staying true to himself. He was still the little grumpy boy she always knew yet this version of him has learned to accept his shortcomings and evolve from them.

After some time Y/N started developing a small crush on the boy. Though she pushed it down. It seemed his goal of becoming the number one hero was his main priority. No room for any distractions like romance. Despite that, the impending war changed everything. She seeked him out before they left to the frontlines, and told him to be safe. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire as she looked at him. Originally she planned to confess. But him being Bakugo he cut her off unknowingly.

—FLASHBACK—

“Oi, what are you stuttering about? Spit it out dumbass” he huffed out getting slightly annoyed by her sudden nervous expression.

“K-Kacchan I just… um….” her heart thumped loud in her ears as she looked at his eyes. So red and pretty. She took a deep breath and was about to go for it when-

“Everyone go with your groups and get ready! We’re about to start!”

Y/N quickly looks at Bakugo about to say something when he looks down at her and rolls his eyes, “tell me after we win this, stupid. Now cmon we’re on the same team with the nerd.”

Back then he didn’t realize what he felt for her was different from the others. Katsuki Bakugo was never meant to fall in love. He didn’t see the deal of romance. His goal was to be the number one hero. That’s all he dreamed of…. right?

So when he saw Y/N, get hit by one of Shigarakis' attacks. Causing her to fall down on the ground with a loud thud, blood soaking her hero outfit from her abdomen. Best Jeanist quickly tries to stop the bleeding as she struggles to keep her eyes open. He almost felt like everything went into slow motion.

“She’s out of commission! No way she’ll stand up anymore…” Best Jeanist says out loud to those around with sorrow in his voice.

Memories of her and him playing together at the playground flooded his mind. Them two in middle school when she defended Deku from his bullying. The betrayal he left that day. The two had a falling out until they entered UA. Her presence since they were little was always strong. Slowly he accepted her back into his life as time went on in their first year of UA. Still extra harsh to her compared to the others but she seemed to be used to it. Towards the start of winter, his demeanor with her slowly softened. Progressing into occasional headpats and pinching of her cheeks.

As she fell unconscious on the battlefield, that’s when he knew. He cared for her more than the others. That being the number one hero would be for nothing, if he didn’t have her by his side. That’s what fueled him to keep fighting til the end.

After the war ended, Y/N and Katsuki stumbled upon each other in the empty hallway of the hospital. It was late at night, neither able to sleep apparently. They walked together to the hospital gardens under the big Sakura tree surrounded by tall hedges. The moonlight peeking between the shuffling leaves. That’s when she finally confessed to him. Went on about how much she wants to stay by his side. She started nervously babbling nonsense, her fingers fidgety and her eyes darting to the floor. He rolled his eyes and leaned down, hooking a finger under her chin to make her look up at him. Shutting her up with a gentle kiss on the lips. Since that day, they’ve been together ever since.

—END OF FLASHBACK—

She smiles as the blonde barely pulls his lips away from her, giving her a quick final peck then letting his head fall back against the pillow. Still holding her close to his chest. Out of curiosity, she looks at the clock on his nightstand. Seeing the red bright digits read 8:30 AM, displayed on the alarm clock. Realization dawns upon her and she quickly looks down at Bakugo. Whose eyes are still roaming across her facial features.

“Katsuki it’s 8:30!” she states quickly like it’s a life or death situation. “We have to go down and have breakfast!”

“And I should care because….?” he replies back with his usual gruff expression.

“Oh cmon there’s pancakes and if we don’t get down there then Kirishima and the others are bound to finish them!!!!”

Bakugo groaned again, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “God damn it,” he mumbled, still not wanting to move. “M’tired from last night and I wanna stay in bed.”

“Cmon cmon get up! Say do you have any of my clothes from last time I slept over? I would go to my room but Mina might spot me” she smiles looking down at him.

“Yeah, might be in that dresser,” he said, gesturing to the top drawer in the dresser next to the mirror. “You always leave something behind when you stay over so that drawer is where I put all of the stuff you left overtime. I also bought you some stuff you may need if you're ever here and need something. It’s your drawer from now on.”

“Ah I see, my own little space in your room…” she says with a brighter expression. She would be lying if she didn’t say that made her heart clench with joy. She looks in it and spots the organized little sections. Some old clothes she’s left behind that are neatly folded along with occasional jewelry she left here by accident. He even put some of her makeup in here that she forgot to take with her back to her room. Y/N feels a warm sensation fill her body when she sees some hygiene products he must’ve bought. Some tampons and pads. Ibuprofen. A heating pad.

She smiles to herself thinking about him going out of his way to get her menstrual products just in case she ever needed them. Despite his tough exterior, he never judged her for these things.

God she loves him.

Despite not wanting to get out of bed, Bakugo laid there and watched you change with a smile on her face. His eyes roamed over your body, taking in the sight of you. His eyes traced your figure, even though he’d seen your body plenty of times before. There’s never a day he gets bored from watching you.

She spots him from the mirror and smiles softly “you're staring…” she says in a gentle mumble.

“How can I not, you're my girlfriend” He says straight faced in response with his gruff voice, sitting up and leaning against the pillows. “C’mere for a second.”

She hums in response and finishes changing, “what is it?” she says as she walks over.

He grabbed your hand, pulling you closer until you were in between his legs. He grabbed the edge of your shirt, pulling you closer and resting his forehead against your chest. “Just let me have a few more minutes, before we have to get up and deal with those idiots.”

She smiles at his words and wraps her arms around him.

He grumbles into your chest. “Hate that we gotta hide this from the others, pisses me off.” He pulled you down to sit in his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. Staying in that position for a few minutes til Y/N spoke up, “c'mon we have to go ‘suki.”

“Fine,” he groaned, his hands moving to rest on your hips. “You get going first, I’ll wait five minutes and then follow after you.”

She smiles and nods, unable to stop admiring his face. He’s so pretty. She sighs and pecks his lips, unable to resist, “I love you.”

It took him a moment but… “Love you, too” he hummed, his hand snaking up the back of your neck and into your hair, holding you close for another kiss. “Now get going before I’m tempted to keep you here all day.”

She giggles and is on her feet as she exits his room. Before she decides to stay in bed with him after all.

Y/N is not usually a morning person but maybe she is now.

—ADDITIONAL SCENE BELOW FOR LAUGHS & GIGGLES—

Bakugo let out a sigh, reluctantly pulling himself out of bed. He opened the nightstand drawer, grabbing some fresh boxers and a pair of jeans, along with a clean shirt. After changing into them, he grabbed a brush and ran it through his hair, trying to tame some of the bedhead.

Once he was good enough, he left his dorm and began walking down to the dining hall of the dorms.

“About time you decided to show up,” Sero snickers at Bakugo, as he rolled his eyes already annoyed. “You didn’t show up for the morning jog! And now you're late for breakfast? How long does it take for one person to get ready?”

Kirishima chimed in with a remark of his own. “Maybe he was too busy sleeping in!! Even bakubro has those days it seems” he said, snickering.

“More like too lazy to get out of bed if you ask me!” Kirishima added with a laugh.

“I was not you idiots!” Bakugo grumbled in reply, looking slightly annoyed. He sat down in the seat beside Y/N, his arm brushing against your thigh under the table. To which she just smiles silently eating her pancakes.

As they all ate their breakfast, a couple of the guys continued to take this opportunity to tease Bakugo about being late as he’s always been an early bird.

After some time Y/N stands up intending to go to the kitchen to get some pastries that Sato made last night. “Hey, does anyone want any pastries?” She says out loud as she looks at the group.

The guys all nodded in response, as you walk to the kitchen, Bakugo watches you leave before shifting his gaze to the group. His eyes snap towards Kirishima as it looked like he was going to help you, “it’s so unmanly to have Y/N bring everything over I’ll go help-“

“I’ll go,” Bakugo says as he interrupts kirishima. Already on his feet getting up from his seat.

“Wow, so manly bakubro!” Kirishima says as he sheds fake tears and wipes them away like a proud dad. Sero and Kaminari couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“Shut it shitty hair! Only because Y/N is a klutz and will trip before she makes it back to the table with the pastries…” he huffs out, turning away to walk to the kitchen.

Once he was in the kitchen he looked over to you, Y/N grabbed a plate and started thinking about which pastries they'd like. Katsuki stepped closer behind you, his chest pressing against your back. He spoke gruff as always next to your ear, his breath warm against your skin, “They all like dark chocolate so just get them those.”

“Someone will see if you're standing so close,” she warns him softly as she starts putting chocolate pastries on the plate with a smile.

“Let them see…” he mumbled against your skin, moving his head down to the nape of your neck.

Y/N notices some avocado and shrimp on the cutting board, “oh looks like someone was going to make a shrimp mocktail of some sort” she comments as she keeps grabbing pastries. Bakugo hummed in acknowledgment but he was a bit distracted.

He could still smell his body wash on her, making him think of last night's activities. He couldn’t resist and placed a kiss against the side, his hands coming around you to cage you in. His voice was low, in an almost whisper “Oi after school-“

*The door creaks open*

Bakugos eyes narrow a bit, as he glances over at where Todoroki was walking in the kitchen towards them.

“Damn it… why does Icy-hot have such bad timing?” he grumbled, reluctantly slipping his hands off your hips and taking a small step back.

“Good Morning Todoroki!” Y/N says with a gentle smile. To which Todoroki gave a small “morning Y/N”. He looked between the two of you with a hint of curiosity, noticing Bakugo standing a bit too close, his hands shoved in his pockets. Before he could question, however, the other three idiots came into the kitchen.

“Found you guys!!” Kaminari yelled extremely loud, practically bouncing over to the counter.

“Wah-“ Y/N says, jumping a bit and stumbling with the plate at the sudden noise.

“Oi-“ Bakugo immediately moved behind you to catch you, hands grabbing your hips to steady you.

“Careful-“ he huffed, holding you steady. Giving a death glare to Kaminari which almost made him pee his pants right then and there.

“Ah thank you Kat- Kacchan” she quickly corrects herself, reminded that they’re not alone, she looks up at him smiling. Bakugo simply grunts and looks away to not cause suspicion.

Kaminari spoke up as he looked at Bakugo, who still had his hands on your hips. “I see that you’ve… taken an interest in helping Y/N with the desserts, Bakugo..” he coos and teases.

The guys all notice Bakugo being a bit too close to you. Both of you suddenly back away from one another.

“What was that all about..?” Todoroki comments, eyeing you both carefully like he’s studying the two.

“Uh it’s because…” her mind quickly goes into overdrive and she yells out the first thing she thought of before they catch on “Ew do you guys smell that?! Kaminari farted!”

Everyone looks at Kaminari, who looks completely appalled by the accusation. “Wha- hey!! I didn’t fart!!”

Bakugo wants to roll his eyes at her lame excuse but holds back. He lazily points at the wall “Oi what’s that over there?”

The group all looks over at where he’s pointing but sees nothing. “Huh? What do you mean bakugo?” Sero says confused and looking for something that’s not there.

“Right there you idiots! It’s a roach!” Bakugo says, trying to distract them.

Sero and Kirishima screech in disgust and hide behind Todoroki. “A roach?! Where?!” Kirishima says panicked. Sero groans and holds onto Todorokis sleeve “that’s so gross dude!’

Todoroki, being stoic as ever, goes to the wall to investigate, “I’ll check it out..” he says monotone as usual.

“Wow Todoroki is so manly!” Kirishima says looking at Todoroki with sparkles in his eyes like he’s a superhero.

“No kidding!” Sero says as he and Kirishima cheer for Todoroki from afar.

Meanwhile Kaminari stays in place being a scaredy cat, “no way I’m going over there! I hate bugs!”

“There’s no roach Bakugo…. Maybe you're seeing things” Todoroki said calmly, inspecting every nook and cranny.

Y/N sees the shrimp from earlier on the cutting board and takes it suddenly getting an idea, she starts waving it around quickly near kaminaris back. Then quickly draping a nearby towel over the cutting board.

“Hah?! I know what I saw half and half!” Bakugo says grumbling trying to play it cool. As they’re all distracted looking at the corner for the bug, Bakugo uses this opportunity to use his quirk to cause a mini explosion to happen near Kaminaris rear. The sound caught everyone’s attention and they looked at kaminaris direction.

The guys are about to question what that noise was when they gasp, suddenly assaulted by the stench of something odd like smoke and shrimp mixed together.

“Ugh- who the hell let loose in here!?” Kirishima groaned, covering his nose.

Todoroki covers his nose silently, obviously in distress from the scent.

“Ugh what was that!” Y/N adds on trying to act oblivious as she fake gags to play it off.

“It’s coming from Kaminari!” Sero gags and waves his hand around to get rid of the smell.

Bakugo lets out a scoff, trying to hold back a smirk. “Of course it is. Only he would stink up the whole damn kitchen like this!”

“What?! It wasn’t me!” Kaminari yells out, waving his hands around trying to deny the claims.

Everyone was gagging at the stench, looking at Kaminari with disgust. Todoroki tried to look unaffected but he coughed softly, he tried to make Kaminari feel better. In a stoic voice he says “It’s okay kaminari…. it’s normal-“

“What on earth did you eat last night to produce something so foul!!” Sero interjects whining.

“It wasn’t me!” Kaminari tries to defend himself.

“Ugh it’s in the air! C'mon let’s get back to the dining room” Kirishima says, covering his nose.

The guys and Y/N are all quick to agree, not wanting to inhale the stench. All of them hurry away, leaving a sputtering Kaminari behind as he insists that he didn’t pass gas. The group sits back down at the table, still complaining about the bad stench. Bakugo, however, gives you a subtle look as everyone is distracted. He silently mouths “good one”, his voice inaudible, with a smirk on his face. Y/N bites back her tongue to suppress a laugh that wanted to escape her lips so bad.

Kirishima sighs, still trying to get the stench out of his nose. “Seriously, I can’t believe one of us can produce something so bad. It’s like a skunk took up residence at the table.”

As Kaminari returns to the table with a pout, Sero gives him a deadpan look. “Please. Spare us the pouting. That stench was you and you know it.”

Kaminari huffs and slumps down in his chair. “Damnit..! Why are you all pinning this on me!? I already told you that I didn’t fart!!”

Kirishima tries to pat his head in a comforting manner. “C’mon, Kaminari, who else could that possibly be coming from? It smelled like something died inside you…!”

Todoroki looked at Kaminari giving him a genuine concerned look which made Bakugo want to laugh so hard he had to look away. “Kaminari….. I suggest you go see a doctor. It's for your own good. I could give you an appointment with my private doctor” he says in a stoic manner. Kirishima and Sero gave Kaminari an encouraging slap on the back.

“Yeah man…. I think that’s for the best” Sero says, giving Kaminari a loopy grin. Kirishima is still whining, “I can still smell it…..”

Kaminari whines and shoos them all away “it wasn’t me I swear-“

“It was dunce face, end of story. Now all of you eat your pastries, we got class soon," Bakugo says grumbling. He glances at Y/N and gives her a subtle nod of the head. To which Y/N smiles and looks at Kaminari who’s still babbling to defend himself.

Mina comes down all smiles as she waves to the small group and heads to the kitchen “Morning Guys! Sheesh I’m hungry-“

“Don’t go in there!!!!!!” Kirishima and Sero yell out to Mina dramatically.

“What in the world are you two on about this time..” Mina shakes her head thinking their pulling one of their shenanigans again. She goes to open the door but pauses when Todoroki puts his hand on Mina’s shoulder to stop her. Giving her a stoic but concerned look and simply shaking his head no.

Mina looks bewildered and takes a look at everyone at the table. Who all look like they’ve been through a war, “what in the world happened in the kitchen?!”

“Dunce Face farted and if you go in there it’s a death wish” Bakugo grunts out all serious and playing into the lie.

“Dude……” Mina looks at Kaminari and shakes her head in disapproval.

Kaminari whines loudly “IT WASN’T MEEEEEEE!”

Y/N couldn’t hold it in and bursted out laughing, the others started laughing alongside her. All the while Kaminari went all day trying to convince everyone he wasn’t the one guilty.

A typical day at UA……. is certainly something.

[billythesimp]

Butler's Abode

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡...⋙

tagging: none

tw: none

It’s not often that Lycaon decides to take time off and go home. Most of the time, he’s working on commissions his master’s demand of him or training with the other houseworkers to ensure their success. But in order to make sure everything goes to plan, the boss himself needs time to rest and re-energize for his next jobs. And with that, he sets off home to his significant other, sending a quick voice message entailing his arrival in hopes that they’ll be quick to respond. It hadn’t been long since he’s come home, that being said his tail twitches and sways from behind at the thought of being in his beloved's arms. 

⋈ Lycaon lives in a decent home, despite the amount of money he makes with his job and how well he is paid by his employers, he enjoys the simpler things and reminds honest with his taste. Besides, no one would notice that the gentlemanly wolf thiren next door was a skilled butler working with high-end companies. Wandering up the steps, his tail wagged as he could hear a faint noise of someone home, clutching the bouquet of flowers he bought for his love. Compared to those of the flowers in his own garden, these one’s bloom brightly in ways that he could only describe of a similar light of that of his lover. 

⋈ Entering his home, he is happy to notice just how clean and well kept the entry it. Shoes neatly placed in their holders while a set of prosthetic legs and covers are set up in the mud-room for his own personal use. After all, these legs are for work mainly, he needs to feel comfortable in his own home you know. His ears perk up when a set of footsteps come around the corner, a head of hair and a curious face peeks out before breaking into a heartwarming smile, one that makes his tail thump and his heart skip a beat.

▿

“Von, you’re home! I didn’t think you’d come back so suddenly. I barely had time to finish making dinner yet.”

They approach him as he stands by the door, taking in their figure before leaning down to give them a kiss. It’s gentle and warm, hands on his cheek as they lean up to reach his face. The flowers trapped between them both as they smiled in this heartwarming reunion. “I thought you would have liked me to come home sooner rather than later, I missed you dearly. Hopefully you weren’t too lonely.” 

Handing over the bouquet, they only shake their heads before assisting them to the mud room, giving him privacy to change out of his work attire into something more comfortable and fitting for home. His clothes may seem seamless and tidy yet- to the trained eye- you could see some areas of wear and tear that he would have to mend after a good wash. “I wasn’t that lonely, besides you always made sure to text me every night and morning so how could I be lonely.”

Walking away to put the flowers into a vase, Von soon followed as he entered their living and dining room, sighing in relief as everything was still in order at home. He enjoys his home to be clean and set to his liking, seeing his partner follow his wishes truly makes him grateful to be the companion of such a thoughtful person. He could smell the delicate scent of homemade dinner, almost drooling at the thought of eating something that wasn’t made by Rina. However his attempt to enter the kitchen is met with some resistance as his beloved stands before him, arms crossed with a knowing look. “Von…”

“I only wish to see what you’re making, dear. Is that such a crime?” With a subtle smirk, they only shake his head before watching him travel around the kitchen island as if looking for something other than food. “Not when you are clearly looking for something to do, or rather tend to. Come on Von, remember our promise.”

His arm is tugged at as he looks down, the sight of a pouting face making him chuckle. “Can I at least set up the table?” With a giggle, he takes them into his arms playfully as they could only agree with his request.

“Fine, since you asked so nicely.” He couldn’t be happier to assist. 

⋈ Usually when Von is home, his partner makes him promise that his time at home would be spent relaxing and being pampered. There are times where they compromise, especially on bigger tasks like laundry or dishes, but other than that he gets to sit back and admire his beloved from a distance. Other times, they make plans to go out for some light shopping, usually for groceries or to buy some new stuff for their home. Any reason to go out with his beloved is one he’ll take, wanting to spend as much time with them before he would leave again for Victoria Household. 

⋈ He listens to their story of home and their own personal agenda, sharing details about his own jobs and the people he’s hired on. Even though they text and call almost everyday, he can’t help but take in the sight of their expressions and how they move with every word they speak. Admiring his love is one of his favorite pastimes, it is moments like these that he really gets to know them well. Like how they smile when they make eye contact, how they raise their brows when trying to be serious, tucking their hair out of their face when they slow down their speech out of nervous tendencies. Or how their cheeks softly redden when he stares too hard.

⋈ After dinner and a quick shower, he’s right back to their side like a loyal dog, holding them in his arms while resting his head on theirs. Whether it’s cleaning up dishes or folding whatever sheets they had washes to prepare for his arrival, he stays by their side and waits patiently for their attention. He even helps out here and there, distracting his lover with whatever they were rambling about before they could notice that everything had been put away and neatly done. Should they catch him, he’d refuse to acknowledge his aid and brush it off as a ghost. But he’s only joking, really.

⋈ He loves the way they always want to tend to his needs before their own. Making sure his legs are comfortable in his prosthetics, tending any old wound that might be bothering him or getting him whatever he needed at the moment. But this is something that comes sparingly, as he doesn’t want to burden his beloved with, finding time later to do whatever he needs in his own time so he can focus on them and only them. 

⋈ By the end of the night, they are cuddling in bed while his head nuzzled up to their chest, ears flicking as delicate fingers run through his hair and comb back his fur. Scratches behind the ears and caresses on his cheeks as they whisper sweet praises that only lull him further into their figure. Hands on their hips as he clings to them for comfort as he can’t imagine a world where he is alone in a bed for two, no one to love or be loved by. No, he will keep them here with him, safe where he can see them. Where he can feel them and know that they’ll always be waiting for him here. 

▿

After a night of slumber, Von still finds himself waking up earlier than most due to his usual work routine before taking a moment to slow down and register where he is. He could only stare at the sleeping being beside him, admiring how their chest rises with every soft breath, lips parted gently with hair covering parts of their face. Yet they looked so peaceful, entranced with how beautiful one person can really be. 

His clawed hand gently fixing their hair to see the rest of their face. Leaning down to place trails of small kisses on their face, finishing with a deep kiss on their lips. How they follow his touch before he escapes them, groans of disapproval are heard before they stretch and start coming to. “Morning love. Sleep well?” He looms over them as they open their eyes to be greeted with a holy sight. They only hum before petting at his bare chest, still half asleep as attempts to pull him closer for more. Yearning for his touch but Von didn’t mind, giving in easily before parting once more to comb back their hair and look on them with his loving gaze. 

“Did you want some coffee? I can brew some up right now.”

“But Von… I’m supposed to take care of you for a change. Hmmp-” They are silenced with another long kiss, one that leaves them breathless as they sit up and finally make eye contact with the handsome wolf. “Yes but right now, I believe it’s my duty to tend to you now, so please-”

“Let me be of service to you, dear.~”

[animeyanderelover]

Can I request to you a Dazai, Gojo, Alucard and Captain (Hellsing), Tsuna and Byakuran (KHR) with an isekai'd/our world Darling, please?

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, delusional behavior, clinginess, controlling behavior, blackmailing, threats, isolation, abduction

Tags: @shumidehiro @leveyani @izanami78

Isekaid into their world

Dazai Osamu

🤎​The one advantage you have as you stumble helplessly into this world is that the environment and the city around you belongs to a place that isn't as different as your own home, minues the people with the gifts of course. The way of living and the technology aren't anything out of the norm for you though so even if you are dropped without any preparation or knowledge into this world, you can still somewhat adjust. Still though, even if you try to blend in as good as possible, something about you always stands out and to trained eyes that will become quite obvious. It just happens to be your misfortune that Dazai is a man with eyes that perceive more than the average person on the street. From the very first glance you two shared, he knew that there was something about you as you looked at him as if you knew him. Rather intriguing. There is always such a cute aura of wariness yet simultaneous curiosity when you have him around you, the fleeting glances you give him always an indicator how you have an inner debate on whether to approach him or not. Normally the average person is easily fooled by his facade yet your nervousness is the one that tells him that you know of something you shouldn't.

🤎​How do you know if he has never met you before? You are such an oddball, even though you do not seem like a threat to him. Still, he is rather curious now and would like to find out more about you yet as he finds himself stalking you, he finds himself in a dead end. There is nothing to be found about you. No origin, no family, no past. Only the police records on how you were found one day and how you were helped to find a job and enabled to live a life by yourself. Your mouth is shut when he tries to pry for answers yet all of it doesn't stop his obsession as it instead only fuels it. There is a secret you keep and Dazai is dying to know what it is that you fret to let others find out about. He would love to be the person you trust enough to tell him what it is you are keeping to yourself. If it doesn't work though, he switches tactics by drugging you and getting your mind to finally let loose as he coaxes the secrets out of you. If you were isekaid by dying, he would start musing if something similar were to happen if he would die, although of course he would only pass away with you by his side. Who knows, maybe both of you may even become reincarnated lovers if being isekaid more than once is possible.

Alucard

🩸​Your struggles are more obvious as you essentially land on earth in the pat where supernatural creatures exist yet even despite initial problems and a silent anxiety you dwell on at night, you manage to build your life from scratch. Life is still fine after all, even if you are stranded in a world you do not belong to. All that finds an abrupt end though when you meet the man in red. There is such a raw and visceral reaction when your eyes land on his tall form as your heart is trembling. Frozen is your body as your gaze is glued to the vampire until he suddenly stops and turns around and even though his eyes are hidden behind sunglasses, you feel your heart trembling as you finally gather the strength to turn around and scurry away. Your biggest mistake was paying so much attention to him. He wonders what has gotten you so frightened as red eyes follow your form sprinting away. Alucard is rather used to the intimidation humans and even other creatures tend to feel when they meet him for the first time yet your fear was not one of natural intimidation. Those yes looked at him as if they knew him and it is that aspect that gains his interest. How would you know him?

🩸​Your hopes to outrun from the vampire king are feeble and in a way you know that yourself. Whether he is stalking you from your shadows or emerges suddenly from somewhere, Alucard is always there and when you do catch sight of him it is because he chose to let you see him. He must admit that your case is a rather intriguing one as he has done his sweet research on you yet is standing here with only a handful of information. There is nothing else about you that there was there as if you were a ghost that one day just appeared. He enjoys the little hunt though which is why he doesn't decide to take the easisest course of using hypnosis on you immediately but with his arsenal of special weapons and the crawling torment he puts you under, it is only a question of time until he discovers the precious secret you have kept hidden. Eons he has been dwelling on this planet yet he has never found a little traveler like you. A human with no special skills who was transported into another world entirely which was only a work of fiction in your own. It truly is rather amusing, although it does also mean that you probably know about his past he wouldn't have want you to know about.

Captain

🐺​Captain is a creature that acts on territorial instincts when it involves his darling as he fully embraces his side as a werewolf in such cases. Perhaps things in his mind are just warped if you were to compare it it your own view. After all he found you all by yourself, confused and left all alone. There was the urge to protect and to save you when he saw you alone back then and now he knows that he felt that way because his instincts had already considered you to be his mate back then. Whatever you used to be before he found you and from wherever you came from means nothing anymore as he would have ripped you away from anyone and anything that would have stopped him. It is all rather overwhelming for you though. You got barely time to even process anything after all before you were abducted by Captain. The constant anxiety can barely be suppressed as even the best poker face couldn't fool his high sense of smell. A scent he is very familiar with as many have trembled in front of him before yet for the first time iin centuries Captain finds himself caring about the fear of his victim. After all his mate shouldn't look at him with such frightened eyes.

🐺​As a creature of keen senses and an experienced soldier though, things won't remain hidden forever. The first few days after the secret has been discovered are the scariest as Captain goes full soldier on you. Inolequent questions and commands put you under growing pressure as he puts you through interrogation. If he senses a threat, even if it is a hypothetical one that hasn't been proven to be true yet, he is committed to remove the problem by its roots. If you have been transported already once from one world to another, there is no guarantee that it won't happen again and that is especially likely if you were randomly teleoported from your old world. If the scenario would be that you died before landing in his world, Captain would at least have the assurance that the teleportation was only triggered because of your death. Whilst he is intense yet still overall silent about it, things are very different if the Major should ever find out and he definitely will sooner or later. After all if there is even a slim chance of teleportation between different worlds existing, it is something worth investigating. You remain safe from any experiments though as Captain refuses to let anything harm you.

Gojo Satoru

🩵​It is fairly easy to somehow establish a new life in his world. Even if you are aware of the curses existing in this world and even if you know about the terrifying aspects of it all, you know that most people go through their entire life being completely oblivious to it all. The same goes for you as you aren't able to perceive Cursed Energy and for that the terrors of this world lurking around everywhere remain hidden away from you. Whether that is meant to be a relief to you or not depends on your mood on that day. Sometimes you feel a light relief that you do not have to worry yourself about the hideous and ugly aspects of it all and sometimes when your shoulders feel heavy or your paranoia gets the better of you, you fear the things that you do not see. It is perhaps a bit lonely, to know about it all without being able to tell anyone. That is until you meet Gojo. What the normal human eye cannot perceive, his Six Eyes can and so he finds himself instantly focused on you as there is something quite different to you in comparison to others. Why? Because he can't perceive you. He sees you just like everyone else sees you and what is ordinary to them is like opening a new world to Gojo.

🩵​Perhaps this is one of the main reasons why he enjoys spending so much time with you. Not only to satiate his own curiosity about you but also because spending time around you is relaxing. There are no minuscule details he sees when he looks at you and it allows him to truly focus on the moment when he is with you. He values that a lot and if it wouldn't have been for his growing obsession, he would have been able to not get too caught on why you are so different from everyone else. Things can escalate very quickly, especially once he dives into your background only to discover absolutely nothing about you. Who are you? Please tell him. His desperation is urgent if you leave him dangling for too long and his paranoia can quickly lead him to lock you away at his own place where he can protect and control you better. He won't take it very well once you are finally forced to admit your secret. Satoru has already lost Suguru after all but now there is a potential risk that there will be a literal alternative world seprarating you from him, a place that he will never be able to reach if you were to be teleported again. It is frightening and worst of all is that he doesn't know what he can do to keep it from happening.

Sawada Tsunayoshi

🔥​The technology in his world may be a bit more rusty in comparison to what you are used to but otherwise it is quite possible to settle down in his world. That is until you get involved with the Vongola and their business by sheer accident. In hindsight it was rather stupid to reveal that you knew one of his guards which instantly alarmed them as no ordinary citizen should know about their true identity unless you were a spy or someone who might mean trouble from them. Most of his guards and Tsunayoshi included do not go very harsh on you after your blunt mistake, something Hibari criticises them for but ultimately complies although his scorching stares are not unnoticed by you. Tsuna himself is rather friendly though as he instructs his guards that he would like to meet the person who apparently knows for some reasons all about them. He is mostly understanding as he doesn't even force you to tell him how you knew but he also makes it clear that they will have to keep an eye on you because he isn't able to fully verify who you are even if you don't strike him as a bad person. You don't complain though as it doesn't hamper significantly with your life.

🔥​The little information they have on you does heighten the distrust amongst some of the Vongola family but since you have volunteered to let yourself be watched, Tsuna decides to not do anything to force information out on you. You find him sometimes trying to pry the information out of you himself though he only chuckles when you call him out for it. Otherwise Tsunayoshi is rather kind as he even starts helping you in your life a bit if he deems it to be necessary. Honestly, he may just manage to gain your trust enough so that you admit everything to him on your own accord whilst remaining unaware that this has been secretly the plan of his. Everything he has done, he has done because he genuinely cares for you but he is also aware that you do not seem to have a person you really trust despite having obviously something you want to talk about. He has been secretly working hard to gain your trust and if it ultimately pays off, he would be rather pleased. Whilst he is rather surprised when he hears what you have to tell, he has gone through quite a few shocking news in his life before so he won't have a very dramatic reaction to it all. He would like to know though if you may teleport away again.

Byakuran

🍬​Byakuran's world is basically the futuristic dystopia you have read about in science fiction stories before. Everything is frightening and unfamiliar as you have to fear for your own life without any protection as you are still freshly stranded on this planet. If you would have had the choice though, you would have prefered the uncertainty and the loneliness over catching the eye of Byakuran himself as you are discovered by him one day when you just happen to sneak around one of his institutions. He is a rather peculiar individual as he openly invites you to join him solely because he just happens to find you interesting and for that would like to keep you close until he has figured you out, something people like Kikyo and Bluebell scold him for accordingly. Even if you were to reject him simply because you know just how bad of a person Byakuran is, you would only lit the fire that will soon transform into a burning obsession as you only stoke his curiosity. The white-haired man has no shame in patronising your time as soon as he has figured out where you reside in as he will actively seek you out from that day on to repeat his offer to you over and over again until the thread snaps and he manipulates you.

🍬​He presents you with the information he has gotten on you but it isn't that what frightens you. After all he has as good as nothing on you that he could use to blackmail you. It is rather the fact that Byakuran has started making his own theories based on the clear lack of information and your behavior that he has been observing for a while now. Some of them are disturbingly close to the truth and you can see the intrigue shining in his eyes when he gauges your reactions and notices the little twitches you do and the way you cast your eyes elsewhere when he retells you something he came up with because it is too close to what has happened for you to remain comfortable. Byakuran has already been aware that there are other versions of him existing in other worlds but to find out that there are people with similar abilities to his is rather fascinating, especially from a world that is so different than anything he has ever imagined. Whilst he shows an eager interest to figure out a way to your world, it is more to satisfy his own curiosity. You are not going back after all. No, you are going to stay in this world stuck with him for the rest of your life. You are much too interesting to disappear on him.

[notjustjavierpena]

4AM (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: A little peek into Hubby’s mind. I’m working on a longer piece but here’s a taste for the starving.

Summary: Javier reflects on fatherhood while comforting his son.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, Javier loves his family, Javi POV, life with a tiny baby!!

Word count: 1.5k

4AM

It’s like clockwork when Lucas’ cries start echoing through the hallway in the early hours. Four in the morning and no sooner or later. You could set an alarm to wake you up at this point but each time there’s the slightest hope that it’s going to be at five the next time. 

You wake first. A moment later, you hear Javier wake up beside you with a sharp intake of air. He rubs his eyes with his thumb and index finger, “Whose turn is it?”

“It’s four a.m. He’s probably hungry,” you say with a groan and try desperately not to let your eyes close for too long, “Jesus, I’m tired.”

Lucas sounds desperate with how he sobs, hiccupping unhappily at not feeling either of you close yet. You feel bad for not having left your bed already, reaching for the covers to throw them to the side. Javier looks like he is just about to turn onto his other side but he sits up instead, “Let me. You just go back to sleep, baby. I’ll heat a bottle or bring him here if he’s hungry.”

He swings his legs out over the side of the bed, his movements slow with the kind of sleepiness that only comes from not waking up by oneself but rather being woken up by something or someone. 

“Javi,” you try to protest. 

“I mean it. Go back to sleep,” he stands up with a small noise, shuffling out of the room and down the hallway to avoid more protests from you. He works so much and you stay here with his infant son all day; it’s the least he can do. Plus, he wants to get all the quality time with his baby boy that he can, even when he’s miserable from sleep deprivation.

He stops and takes a deep breath right before pushing the door to Lucas’ nursery fully open. There’s a soft glow from the night light by the bed, a lamp shaped like a half-moon that shines a golden yellow over the crib to soothe. 

“Hola, mi amor (hello, my love),” he says when he leans over the side of the crib to look down at his wailing son. Lucas’ hair is dark and tousled much like his own, his eyes are big and brown but right now, his face is also tear-streaked and red from exhaustion to the point where it tugs at Javier’s heartstrings. He shushes gently as he scoops his infant into his hands with practiced ease, holding underneath his arms and supporting his head with his fingers. He bounces gently when he has Lucas cradled against his bare chest. In his head, Javier goes through his usual checklist to make the crying stop but he finds that his son is neither hungry, gassy, or in need of a diaper change. He tuts softly and paces the room to make him settle. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” He asks when the wails subside and turn into soft whimpering instead. The tiny hands on his chest curl up and as the sobbing stops, Lucas seems to find comfort in the familiar scent and warmth of his father. Javier kisses the top of his head, speaking gently while still bouncing carefully, “Don’t worry, I get those too sometimes but your mamá is right there with me when I do just like I am here with you. You’re always safe with us.”

Javier is floored each time he manages to soothe his baby boy. It’s a reminder that he is doing a great job despite all the doubts he had during your pregnancy, the introspection, and the constant fear that your softness hadn’t changed him enough after Colombia to be a good father. 

It seems so long ago since he was living an adrenaline-fuelled and cruel life miles away from the quiet suburban life he now leads in Texas. Sometimes, he even feels like everything that happened in Colombia are experiences that belong to a whole different person. This is even if there are still nights when he wakes up in a cold sweat, his whole body aching, feeling claustrophobic, and his poor old heart racing with memories of the things he's seen and done.

The hope of everything that he has with you had always existed beneath the layer of women and booze but Lucas is the true reason for letting go of his past. He doesn’t think he has ever felt so much fulfillment in anything until he held the tiny little boy against his chest for the first time and a nurse told him that he was a natural. He sobbed when you had gone to sleep, leaving him alone with your shared creation and he just couldn’t take his eyes off him. He doesn’t think he ever thought that his heart was capable of feeling so much unconditional love for anything. He still marvels at how his chest aches every time he looks into his son’s eyes.

Lucas has drifted off to sleep in his arms by now, breaths having slowed down and eyes having fluttered closed. Javier paces around the room for a few more minutes just to make sure, and then he walks back to the bassinet and gently lays the baby down on his back. 

However, as soon as Lucas loses the warmth of his father’s embrace, his eyes shoot open and the crying restarts. He writhes and hiccups and kicks the blanket off. 

Javier sighs softly but there’s a smile on his face as he does it. He picks him up once again and the routine starts over, “So that’s what you needed, huh? No llores. Estoy aquí. No voy a ningún lado (Don’t cry. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere)."

He is so tired as he promises this, eyelids burning from exhaustion when knows he doesn’t have to be up for another three hours and they could be spent on sleeping. It doesn’t reflect what he wants though because sleep is nothing compared to hearing those cries ebb out until they stop altogether. He feels triumphant each time. 

He walks to the corner of the room where an old and slightly weathered rocking chair stands. It used to be in his father’s home, more specifically on the back porch, but he received it as a gift after his pop found out he was going to be a grandfather. 

He slowly lowers himself into it. The gentle motion back and forth has Lucas falling asleep once again. Javier can feel his chest rise and fall in time with his son’s and it’s so soothing that he allows himself to relax. He closes his eyes, becomes aware of their synchronized heartbeats, and then passes out with the little bundle on top of him. 

In your bedroom, you wake up an hour later to pee only to find that Javier still hasn’t returned after getting up. You concentrate on listening for your baby’s cries but there is nothing to be heard. After going to the bathroom, your feet take you down the hall and into the nursery just in case Javier needs you to take over rocking your son for a while. 

You find them both fast asleep and it is a relief that there’s no distress after all. It makes you smile to see them like this, looking so alike despite the age difference between them. Tiptoeing across the floor to gently place a hand on Javier’s shoulder, you wake up your husband with the intention of not disturbing your son. He stirs at your touch and looks up at you with tired but content eyes. 

“Looks like you both fell asleep,” you whisper to him gently. Absent-mindedly, you stroke your hand up and down Lucas’ back. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Javier blinks sleepily, reaching up with one hand to rub his eye, “Seems like he didn’t need anything.” 

“Are you kidding me? That’s not true,” you cut him off with a shake of your head and a soft laugh, “He needed you.”

There’s a pause. Javier almost looks like he might drift off again. You carefully lift Lucas from his arms, “Let’s get you back to bed. Both of you.”

You lay Lucas back in his bassinet, rubbing his belly with the palm of your hand before tucking the blankets around him snugly. He stirs but only briefly and then settles back into a peaceful slumber, his tiny fingers curling around the edge of his covers.

Behind you, Javier has gotten up from his seat. You turn to him and wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both stand there in the soft glow of the nursery. It goes on for a minute or so, none of you saying anything. 

Together, you quietly leave the room. In bed, Javier holds you protectively in his embrace during the last few hours he has with you. He leans to kiss your lips tenderly, “Te quiero tanto, baby (I love you so much, baby).”

“Y yo a ti (I love you too),” you reply and earn him squeezing you even tighter, “Para siempre (forever).”

Being a first-time parent is hard, you know this, but it’s not as hard when four a.m. I love yous are involved.

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If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[merakiui]

Absolutely love the possessive ex Scaramouche ramble in tags, please feed us more of that.

Gladly!! :D

(cw: yandere, extremely toxic ex scara, modern au, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, coercion, obsession, forced marriage, violent/suicidal threats, manipulation, mentions of intoxication/alcohol, implied self-harm)

The two of you were what everyone calls ‘high school sweethearts.’ You met him in the cafeteria when the both of you were first years. Despite the scowl etched on his face, he looked lonely sitting all by himself while everyone was finding tables, old and new friends gathering in groups. He’d ignored you, even scooting further away when you’d attempt to move closer. Even though he seemed so averse to you, you remained, silently eating your lunch. Neither of you said anything, but you did introduce yourself. He scoffed under his breath.

You started to sit next to him for every lunch, and he continued to give you the silent treatment. You never pressed him for conversation, instead choosing to enjoy silence while you ate and admired him from the sidelines. He never looked at you, always facing forwards and toying with his chopsticks, bending them so far until they were ready to snap. Eventually, he seemed to grow accustomed to this routine because many weeks into the semester he turned to address you.

“Why do you always sit by me? Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“Maybe. But I don’t think anyone’s as mysterious as you are.”

“‘Mysterious…’ Yeah, whatever.”

That seemed to be the catalyst because, as sardonic as he was, he’d begun talking to you. And it wasn’t long until he started to warm up to you every lunch until the both of you were exchanging lighthearted banter. Your friendship would only grow from this point onwards until, at the end of your first year during a study session to prepare for finals, where you were both pulling an all-nighter at your house, he’d asked you out. And you said yes, and the both of you had gone from best friends to lovers within the span of a year. The both of you were each other’s first partner, so it made doing things as a couple even more exciting because neither of you had any experience with dates or holding hands or kissing.

Kuni wasn’t a bad boyfriend. In fact, he was very loyal and sweet. He’d stand up for you if anyone was being rude to you or scrutinizing your relationship with hateful eyes. The two of you were nearly inseparable. When you weren’t spending time together in school, you were out doing things together. And when you couldn’t meet up in person, you’d text or call, sometimes talking late into the evening about all sorts of things. You were so immersed in him that you failed to notice the red flags slowly raising over time. But looking back there were a few notable ones.

He never invited you to his house. In fact, you’d never even met his parents, whereas he’d been to your home so often that your family practically became his own. He hadn’t mentioned anything about his family, and if you tried to suggest going to his house for dinner so that he could introduce you to them he was quick to change the subject. For a while you’d push this, more curious than concerned, but eventually you’d drop it when it became clear that he wasn’t going to divulge anything on the matter. That had stung, but you snuffed those feelings in favor of focusing on other aspects of your relationship.

The second red flag was just how clingy he became when the both of you were in your third year, having been together for two solid years. You never noticed it before because you loved him, but when friends had pointed out how attached he seemed—and it was to rather unhealthy levels, according to their observations—to the point where you were the only person he’d ever formed a bond with while at school you started to see the cracks in what felt like the perfect relationship. He’d text you every single day, at every single hour, all the time. He’d call you nonstop, even more so when you didn’t immediately pick up.

The third red flag coincided with the second. When you couldn’t make it to your phone, he was quick to blame himself and those around him for being responsible for your deteriorating relationship. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? Did those guys bother you again? They probably told you some stupid shit about me, right? Don’t listen to them. Hey, you’re not mad, right? Call me back. I need to talk to you. Just text me when you can, okay? (Name), please don’t leave me. I’ll fix whatever’s wrong. Just promise you’ll stay. Messages of these kinds were what you could expect to receive from him. He’d fluctuate between self-loathing to loathing those around him within seconds, shoving blame onto classmates who’d bully him for being that “weird emo kid with too many piercings” and anyone else who tried to, in his words, “come between you and me.”

By the end of your third year, you started to fall out of love. He was so very dedicated to this relationship, evidenced by how much effort and care he’d put into it, but his clingy behavior was stifling. You’d lost some of your own friends because he chased them away, and it felt like you couldn’t do anything without him breathing down your neck. If you wanted to go anywhere with a friend or two, Kuni had to be there to accompany you. If you looked at another for too long, he’d think you were cheating. If you didn’t text or call him at certain times, if you failed to pick up, or—Archons forbid—you left him on seen, he’d spiral.

Kuni had this habit of sounding dangerously self-destructive when he feared you were being unfaithful or he thought you were going to break up with him, which meant you’d have to sit on the phone for hours convincing him that you loved him, that you’d never leave him, that you’d always be here for him, that you were sorry for not responding, that he needs to calm down and please, please, please don’t do anything rash. Those phone calls were always so stressful. You cried a lot; you’d beg him to put the knife away when he’d threaten to use it on himself, on you, on anyone who might try to take you from him. And, after a few hours of this, he’d be back to his usual self, as if a switch had been flipped. You could hear his adoring smile in his voice when he spoke, when he’d lovingly whisper into the phone, “I’m happy you’re mine. I love you so much.” And you’d shakily parrot the affirmation, too frazzled to say or do anything else.

One of your best friends Rosalyne, who you’d befriended in the midst of all of this, had been so supportive the minute you spilled the truth to her. Kuni hated her the most because she wasn’t afraid of him. Because she’d shut him down when he tried to pull you away from her. Because she wouldn’t approve of any of his toxicity. Rosalyne would take you on shopping sprees, brunch dates, and jogs at the local park. She was plenty of good to outshine Kuni’s bad, and the more time you spent with her the clearer your head would become. The both of you had plenty of sleepovers together, and she let you rant your heart out while she listened. She’d tell you to break up with him, but you’d agonized over how terrifying that would be. You couldn’t bear to tell Kuni the truth—that you wanted to separate because things had turned so rotten—because you were so scared. Scared of him and what he might do.

Scared that if he really did take a blade to himself it would be your fault. He told you that a lot. That it would be your fault if he did anything. That his blood would be on your hands. You believed him every time.

By your final year, you’d already had a plan for university outlined and you’d started applying to a few in advance. You never told Kuni about any of them because you worried he might apply to each one in hopes of going to the same school as you. And when there was the dance for the graduating class and Kuni had asked you to it, you’d told him you were going with Rosalyne and a few other friends as a group. He didn’t like this, as expected, but you’d been so sick of him and his behaviors that you snapped and spilled everything to him. You’ll never forget the look on his face when you told him that you were done with the relationship and that you never wanted to see him again.

He looked as if he could lunge at you and tear you to bloody ribbons at any moment.

You graduated single and so very refreshed, and your summer had been filled with friends. Kuni didn’t message you at all, which was surprising considering you were certain he’d spam you relentlessly after the break-up. But he never did. In fact, you never saw him again. Graduation had come and gone, and now that you could recover from such a terrible relationship he was becoming less of a burden for you. For a while you were anxious. You kept expecting to receive a phone call or to see some news about Kuni, but neither ever came. Rosalyne told you to stop thinking about him. It would only make you even more paranoid and that wouldn’t do your mental health any good. You were so grateful to have her in your life, but most importantly you were glad Kuni failed to scare her away.

Now you’re a second year in college and things have only gotten so much better for you. You and Rosalyne still keep in touch despite going to different schools. She’d gone to a university in Snezhnaya, while you enrolled in one in Sumeru, and you’ve blotted Kuni from your mind. You’ve made a fresh group of friends while attending classes: criminal justice major Shikanoin Heizou, creative writing major Kaedehara Kazuha, musical therapy major Venti, botany major Tighnari, and so many more wonderful people who have all welcomed you into their circles.

So when Venti drags a familiar face to your usual weekend outing, which is really just a retreat to the forest for drinking and smoking, creeping cold settles into your bones. He looks awkward with Venti’s arm slung around him as the more bubbly of the two drags him towards the bonfire, where you sit with the others roasting marshmallows for s’mores, and it’s a look that is so uncharacteristic on him. What’s even weirder is how friendly everyone greets him—as if they all know him—and you’re completely lost when they turn to you and ask if you’ve met Kunikuzushi.

“No,” you lie through your teeth, forcing a pleasant smile and extending your hand for a stiff handshake, which Venti snickers at. “No, I’ve never met him before.”

Apparently, he’s in one of Venti’s classes—it’s a course he’s taking solely because he needs the credits. Tighnari knows him because they usually work the same shifts at the campus café. Kazuha knows him from his linguistics and philosophy classes. Heizou’s ate with him in the dining hall plenty of times now and they’re also taking the same psychology class. It feels so genuine and yet so fake at the same time. Too perfectly manufactured to be a mere coincidence. But you do your best to push past these suspicions, and when he sits across from you, smiling at you and saying how nice it is to meet you, the warping flames paint his face in devilish shadows. That’s what you think he is when he acts like a completely different person from how he was when you dated: a devil who’s good at being kind and outgoing, noisy and abrupt, and always so foul-mouthed, but in a way that makes him charming. Your friends are so enthralled. They love him and his sense of humor. They love his quick wit. They love how fun he is. And suddenly weekends spent in the forest aren’t so enjoyable.

You do your best to overcome your doubts. For a few months you’re on edge. How he even found you is a mystery. Surely he wouldn’t stalk you and enroll in the same college just to get revenge or…whatever vengeance he wants from you. But when he treats you to coffee, when he brings you and the others pastries every other morning, when he invites the lot of you to study at the library, when he tells the funniest stories while crossed and everyone’s giggling like schoolgirls it really feels like he’s…healthier. Like he’s turned a fresh page in his life and is starting anew. Like he’s changed for the better.

Perhaps he just doesn’t remember you. You’ve changed your style over the years, so it’s possible he’s simply forgotten your image and can’t place memories to your name. Eventually, after soothing yourself with these theories, you begin to accept his presence in the group. He fits in so flawlessly, as if he’s a missing piece to the puzzle, and you can’t believe you’re admitting this, but you like this version of Kuni. He’s confident, not cocky. He’s kind, not rude. He gives everyone space. In fact, he rarely texts frequently in the group chat. And he’s funny! He’s so funny. You don’t think the Kuni from your past was ever as funny as the Kuni who regales everyone with lighthearted stories of how he once took in a stray cat that turned out to belong to his neighbor or how his old job had the strangest customers.

Maybe he truly did change. Maybe all of these coincidences really are coincidences. Maybe it’s for the best that you leave the past in the past.

Finals season looms, and the group hasn’t had time to meet up outside of class. Venti has tried to persuade everyone to come study at his apartment. His roommate won’t care (yes, he will. Xiao hates it when everyone gets blackout drunk and he has to wake everyone come morning), but if you’ve known Venti long enough you’ll know there is no studying that happens at these study sessions. This is probably the reason why he’s had to repeat a year.

With everyone’s schedules packed with academics, it’s difficult to find a time where everyone can get together to study. You think you might just be better off studying on your own, but Kuni’s message of you wanna pull an all-nighter for these lame af finals together?? accompanied with a photo of snacks and coffee, any thoughts of studying alone instantly vanish.

This is how you find yourself in his dorm, sprawled on his bed while he sits on the floor, whacking your dangling feet when they get too close to him. His roommate Albedo is currently out tutoring a few students at the library and won’t be back until much later, so it’s just you, Kuni, and a pile of textbooks and notes. You’ve hung out with Kuni a few times and he was great company during each. You’ve also fallen asleep in his dorm before, when you’d come over to binge a show the both of you enjoy, and you’d lost track of time and had slipped into a dream halfway through the marathon. You’d woken the next morning with Kuni looming over you, grinning deviously and holding an uncapped marker. He’d leaned down and whispered, “You drool in your sleep,” and you’d swatted at him and groused about how you were sleeping so peacefully when he just had to ruin your sleep (and your face) with his antics. And then there was that time when you were so drunk at that one party and you could hardly stand, he’d been there to help. He even stayed with you for the rest of that night, offering his assistance when you became nauseous or needed water or a snack until you passed out.

Despite your initial apprehensions, you consider him a friend. He’s no one nearly as close as Rosalyne or your other friends. He’s just a mutual friend, someone you’ll spend time with when you feel like it, but you don’t truly need him in your life. That, and part of you still struggles to trust him after all of the stress and unhealthy obsession he subjected you to.

“Kuni,” you whine, lifting your head from the textbook. “Can you get me some water? I’m thirsty.”

“Do I look like your maid?” he snaps, immersed in organizing his notes. “Get it yourself.”

“I’m picturing it now and you’re in a frilly dress and—”

“Forget I asked.” Setting his notebook down with an exaggerated sigh, he crosses the distance to the mini fridge and withdraws a bottle of water.

Grinning, you slide off of his bed and reach for it with a grateful hum. He smirks and takes a step back, holding it away from you.

“Seriously…”

Rolling your eyes, you lunge for it and he side-steps you with the practiced grace of a cat. You brace yourself against the wall and swipe at him. Again, he dodges, unscrewing the cap and shaking the bottle teasingly.

“I think I’ll take a sip for myself. All of this studying has left me so parched.”

“No fair! That’s mine!”

“Is it?” He pulls it away from his lips to observe the bottle and feigns surprise. “That’s weird. I don’t see your name on it.”

“Look closer!” you exclaim, but just as he’s about to humor you you pounce, tackling him to the ground—there’s a beanbag cushion that breaks your fall—and the water spills all over the both of you in the midst of the tumble. A slew of colorful words stick in Kuni’s throat and your laughter rings out melodiously. You seize his wrist and hold it down while reaching for the bottle in his other hand, where there’s still some water left. He struggles halfheartedly, relinquishing the bottle with a disinterested scoff, and you pull away from him to down what’s left.

While crushing the plastic bottle into a ball, you notice something on your palm—the palm that had grabbed Kuni’s wrist—and it takes a minute before the skin tone-colored substance registers in your mind.

Concealer.

You peer at him and notice that he’s cradling his arm, and confusion sprouts.

“So funny,” he spits with a hollow laugh. “You owe me a new beanbag if this one’s ruined.”

“Hey, hold on. What’s with the—”

“Forget it. You got your water, so let’s get back to studying. Or do you no longer want to be a perfect student?”

Without thinking, you grab his arm as he’s standing and when you look at his forearm you can see where the water’s started to wash the concealer away. Curiously, you scrub at it while he tries to yank his arm away, but when you unearth a dozen scars littering his wrist and climbing the length of his arm that creeping cold from before returns.

And suddenly you’re brought back to those phone calls—the ones where he’d threaten suicide and murder—and you stumble back as if you’ve been burned, half-expecting to hear those threats once more. Kuni’s staring at his wrist, his features twisted in grim disapproval, and for a moment you think he looks…hurt. Or maybe that’s sadness you see. Whatever emotion it was, it doesn’t linger because a quiet chuckle slips past his lips, and the sound is so very frigid it has your blood crystallizing.

“It really hurt when you said you never wanted to see me again.” Kuni peers down at you, and his eyes that had once been so bright and filled with light are dull and dark. “But nothing hurts more than loving you.”

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but the words won’t come. You’re rooted to the ground, horror slinking through your body and rendering you immovable. Your heart is in your throat, pounding so loudly it’s practically a drum, and a cold sweat washes over you.

“Each time I found myself hating you, I thought it was odd because I love you so much. I can’t possibly hate the one I’ve loved all this time.” He scowls. “But loving you hurts. Loving you feels like chewing glass and drinking poison. Loving you isn’t fair because while you moved forward with your ‘friends,’ I was forced to stay behind and pick up the pieces of what was left of you. So for every moment I couldn’t stand you, I tallied it on myself so that I’ll never forget the times I loved you so much I hated you.”

This can’t be happening, you’re thinking, curling your hands into trembling fists. He changed. He changed, right? This isn’t the same Kuni from before. This isn’t…

“And when I saw how well you seemed to be doing without me, I hated you even more.” Without warning, he’s grabbed your arm and hoisted you up. You open your mouth to scream, but no sound comes—not that anything could when he’s pulled a switchblade from his pocket and poised the pointed tip at your jugular. “You have poor taste in friends. Those guys suck.”

Tutting, he shakes his head at you like a parent might when scolding a child, and says, “Do you know how fucking tiring it was pretending? You think I care about pastries and stupid campfire stories? You really think I’d ever want to associate myself with that sorry lot?”

“K-Kuni, please let go of me. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were—I’m sorry. So please just…”

“And then the first time you see me after all these years apart and you had the gall to lie to my face! ‘I’ve never met him before.’ Bullshit. You just didn’t want any of your loser friends to know our history, right? Because you’re ashamed to have known me, right?”

“That’s not it! I… I was just—I didn’t… I was… I just…”

“I… I… I…” he mocks, shoving you down onto the beanbag. It dips under the sudden weight, and you sink further into it when he points the blade at you. “Stop tripping over your tongue. I should be the one near tears! You cast me aside and then forgot all about me. You abandoned me when I needed you most.” His voice cracks at that last sentence, and your heart skips erratically.

“That’s not what happened! We needed space. I needed space. You were being too—” You stop yourself, unsure of how to phrase it. Too controlling? Too dangerous? Too scary?

“Lucky for you, I’m willing to overlook these past...slights.” The blade twirls effortlessly in his grasp, and you heave a relieved breath when he’s no longer pointing it in your direction. “Marry me and we’ll forget all about the past. We’ll start over.”

His demand almost stops your heart altogether. You stare up at him, mouth agape, and mumble a disbelieving, “What?”

“You heard me.” He seems to soften with his next words, and for a moment he looks and sounds like the Kuni who hangs out with you and your friends. The harmlessly fun Kuni who always takes such good care of you. “You’re the only one I’ll ever love, so let’s get married.”

“K-Kuni, I can’t... I really can’t...”

Within seconds the blade has found itself on his wrist, pressing into delicate flesh. Not enough to cut, but if he applies more force you’ll definitely see blood. You choke on a horrified gasp.

“What was that?” He raises his brow at you, challenging you with a calm smile.

Your mind reels in an effort to conjure a plan. What can you even do? If you take the blade from him, will he turn his anger on you? Will you have to wrestle him into submission? And if you do manage to get out of his dorm, will anyone believe you? He’s painted himself in such a pleasant light. Your friends love and trust him! So what can you say? And if there isn’t any solid proof, no one will even entertain bringing the authorities into this mess.

“I’m waiting, (Name). Are you really going to make me add another tally? Do you really want me to hate you again? Oh, but maybe I should start marking you! We can add a slice for each time you failed to love me. That way we’ll both look like used cutting boards.”

You need help, you want to say, but the words escape you.

Instead, you nod hastily and say breathlessly, “Okay, yes! I’ll marry you!” Swallowing your horror, you glance at the blade as it’s lifted from his skin. Thankfully, there isn’t a cut. “I... I’ll marry you, Kuni. So... So please don’t hurt yourself. Please.”

It feels like you’ve been strangled for an eternity, so when he finally pockets the blade the air in your lungs returns and you collapse against the beanbag, chest rising and falling in short, panicked breaths. 

“Good.” He bends down to your height, grips your chin with cold fingers, and forces you to meet his adoring stare. “We’ll look at rings tomorrow. Or maybe you’d prefer bracelets instead? I can be flexible but only for you, so you’d better be grateful.”

You swallow rising bile and nod. “T-Thank you.” You’re not sure why you’re thanking him when he hardly deserves it, but it feels like the right thing to say to ease the tension.

Kuni’s eyes sparkle, no longer a void of endless darkness, and when he leans in to capture your lips in his your heart sinks. You really can’t run from your past, can you?

[devourable]

♛ the princess

sfw | tags : fem!yandere x gn reader (only prn used for reader is ‘you’), yandere behavior, stalking mentions, power dynamic, manipulation

the last of my ladies for now! althea, the meanie princess <3 sorry if this is kind of a mess but yall know me by now lol. i can finally start working on my nb yans now 🥹

this one goes out to all the girl likers following me. mmmwah

“i’m gonna marry you one day! we’ll always be together!”

little althea made the claim over and over throughout your childhood, so often that it was normal for you to hear. having lived in her castle since your parents began working for hers, you were the only other person her age that she had to play with.

to say she was attached to you was an understatement. she adored you!

but little you was oblivious to all of her proclamations, assuming it to all be pretend. just a game! sure, it got a little weird when she continued to say it even when you grew into adolescents, but there was no harm in it, right?

you hadn’t the slightest clue to just how serious she was.

see, althea always, always got what she wanted. she was the princess, after all! and the sole heir to the throne. new clothes, the finest food, and the most lavish castle to live in — all of it was hers, the moment she asked for her. but none of it could ever satisfy her the way your presence did.

her adoration for you kept your family employed and her parents happy. she clung to you like a vice, always insisting you dressed up together and went to all of her classes and such. you kept her tantrums at bay in a way no one in her family had ever seen before.

and when you weren’t around, or something (or god forbid, someone) dared to take your attention away from her? she was a nightmare. a fussy, loud, violent nightmare that wouldn’t be anything but a purposeful nuisance until you were returned to her. so it was always in everyone’s best interests to ensure you were together. words of appreciation and gifts from everyone within the castle was a norm for you, incentives to convince you to stay by the young princess’s side.

it was how it had always been, even as you developed. you figured althea would grow out of her clingy behavior toward you — and to an extent, she did. as you aged and developed individual personalities, everyone was relieved when the princess grew out of her cranky attitude and into the sweet, delicate young lady that was expected of her. the ideal princess who spoke in a gentle tone and expressed love toward the people she’d rule in the future. you could ignore how she always held your hand a little too tight when you were alone together, or how she insisted on kissing you on the lips every day (“it’s normal for us,” she’d claim! neverminding how she’d always seem to ‘accidentally’ leave your face smeared with her lip gloss). she had become a better person, so you could indulge her, right?

because of the change, though… no one had any clue that althea couldn’t care less for the kingdom. no matter how much she was taught to cherish those she’d rule over, she saw them all as little more than a responsibility that she was created to care for later in her life. it irritated her to no end and her only reprieve was you. you kept her going, kept her motivated to be the good little lady she was supposed to be, kept her from shirking her duties and whisking you away like she had fantasized about doing countless times.

despite the seemingly positive impact that growing up seemed to had made, everyone was still quite surprised when althea allowed you to leave the castle to live your own life years later. you were hers, didn’t you know? but you weren’t royalty, so you saw no point in staying — besides, you wanted to see the world beyond the castle walls. so she bid you goodbye, kissed you on the lips once more, and waved you off as you left the home you had shared up until then.

however… when you tried to make a name for yourself on your own, it felt like nothing ever went your way. you never noticed how there were always a few of the palace knights lingering around every public building you went to afterwards. nor did you really pick up on why most places you applied to work at turned you away. and why did you always get kicked out of your hostels after just a few nights’ stay? it was like life was rejecting you as soon as you tried to enter it. but kind, gracious althea was always there to pick up the pieces for you, loaning you money when you needed it and lending you a space to stay when you had nowhere else to go.

she’d never directly ask you to come back full time, oh no. she was willing to play the long game. to let you learn on your own that you needed her to survive.

it got to a point where you didn’t know how long you had been away from her. months? weeks? a year? the world was just so cold and harsh when you didn’t share it with althea! you were in and out of jobs, homes, and was only known as the princess’s former friend rather than your name. you couldn’t take it. you couldn’t live like this, who could? so the day you finally stumbled back onto the palace doorstep, shaking and soaked from a storm you had gotten caught in, althea welcomed your return with open arms. she cleaned you, clothed you, and fed you the food you were used to eating.

silly you, trying to leave your future fiancee. she wished she didn’t have to let you go through all that you did, but you had to learn one way or another! and now that you had, you’d never have to do it again.

you’ll stay right by her, in the castle, till the very end.

after all, she did say you’d always be together, didn’t she?

[burntheedges-updates]

over again, chapter 3: dinner

This is my updates-only blog! Follow me at @burntheedges Joel Miller x f!reader summary: you fell in love with Joel Miller in Austin, Texas, in 2001, but you thought you lost him and your whole family in 2003 when the world turned upside down. now it's 2024, and you find the surprise of your life waiting for you in Jackson, Wyoming. or, five times you and Joel fell deeper in love, on both sides of the apocalypse (and one time you did something about it) 18+ minors DNI chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, banter, angst, bisexual!reader (like me), dancing, holding hands, a bit of pining, kissing (!!!) (the smut is coming so soon, y’all) a/n: Welcome to chapter 3! We’re finally getting somewhere with these two… and there’s a bit of dancing. The Austin section of this chapter was the preview I posted a few weeks back, but it's been edited a bit. music note: All songs mentioned in this fic are on the playlist. The first 19 songs on the playlist are the mix CD mentioned in this chapter. The playlist post has annotations about the first 19 songs with mild spoilers, so skip reading those for now if you’d rather wait. I was a teenager in 2000 and I grew up in the south (and lived in Texas for a bit, later), so I was aiming for songs I would have heard on the radio and songs the reader and Joel definitely would have heard on the radio and when they went out dancing. word count: 8.2k

series main post | series playlist | ao3 | ch 1 | ch 2

Chapter 3: Dinner

Jackson, Spring 2024 

Despite your agreement in his kitchen, you don’t talk to Joel the next day, or even the one after that, except in passing. He’s still taking care of Ellie, and you end up staying in the stables overnight to help with the birth of a foal. (You try to imagine yourself from Before doing anything like that, but it’s impossible.) At least you’re able to sleep again, after that. You’re too tired not to. 

It’s been three days when Joel catches you outside around dinner time and asks if he can walk with you, as he’s planning to pick some dinner up for Ellie. She’s feeling better, apparently, but not up for the dining hall quite yet. You remember being wary of it yourself when you first arrived, so you don’t blame her.

Joel falls into step beside you, in silence at first. The air between you is more comfortable than it was three days ago — it feels easier to walk next to him, less fraught to look at him. You imagine touching his hand again and it seems possible. You were exhausted then, it’s true, but it was also overwhelming to be around him like that after so long. Now you’re a little more used to the idea. 

You use the quiet moment to look him over, checking the outline of his shoulders, his hips, his gait against the Joel in your memory. He’s grayer now of course, but so are you. He’s the same shape but somehow even broader than Before — same Joel, just stronger, and hardier, and more weathered. You can see a hint of discomfort in his walk, but you all have that these days. The sign of a person who has to walk everywhere. It wears at your joints. 

You don’t notice how long you’ve been checking him out in silence until your gaze wanders back to his face and you find him smirking at you, knowingly. 

“See something you like, darlin’?” You feel a rush of warmth towards your face, but you’re not really embarrassed. 

“Maybe I do, neighbor.” You tilt your head at him and smile a bit. “Same as always.”

He shakes his head and works his jaw to hide a wider smile. “I’m pretty sure we’ve said that to each other before.”

“Yeah, I think we did. That night we had dinner at your place after Sarah was sick.” It’s easier to recall things like that, now that you’ve let yourself start. It’s like the memories were just waiting for you to acknowledge them and now they’re all pouring out. 

He tenses a little when you say Sarah’s name, making you wonder if you shouldn’t have. But she was yours too, and you can’t let go of that. You never have and you won’t start now. Not even for Joel. 

He looks away and then back at you, seeming to shake it off and moving a little closer to nudge your shoulder. “You still remember what I taught you? Pretty sure we had our first lesson that night.” He winks, the old flirt. You laugh. 

“Joel, I haven’t danced with anyone since the last time I danced with you. I can’t promise I even remember the steps.”

He pauses, slows to a stop, and turns towards you fully. “Maybe we should give it another shot, see if, um,” he clears his throat. “See if we still partner so well.” You meet his eyes, and you see he’s feeling the same things you are – hesitation, hope, maybe a little fear. Maybe a lot. 

That feeling that’s been pulling at you – that second chance you’ve been thinking about for months – becomes almost tangible in the air between you as he speaks. It makes you feel brave.

You step a little bit closer and reach out to slide your hand into his. He closes his eyes, just for a moment, and you hear his breath hitch.

“Tommy always did say we could light up a dance floor.” You look down at your hands and decide to go for it, too. “I’d like to see if we can, still.” You’re talking about more than dancing, and you both know it. “But I know Ellie comes first, and I don’t want to rush into anything and mess it up. I missed you,” you see he’s formed a shaky fist with his free hand, while the hand holding your own is relaxed and warm. “But we’ve done a lot of living without each other.” 

You look back up at him, hesitantly. You don’t want to push for too much, too fast. You have no idea what fast or slow mean for the two of you anymore. 

Joel nods, twining his fingers through your own and squeezing gently. “We have. But even now I’d never have doubted you’d understand about Ellie. You’re a great mom.” 

He uses present tense, which makes you suck in a sharp breath. You feel it again, that echo from the past. It still hurts. Maybe it’s like building muscle and it’ll fade the more you let yourself feel it. 

“She doesn’t know you, of course, and she’s wary of strangers. And we need to get to know each other now. But we can take it slow.” He smiles at you, a bit sadly, and squeezes your hand again. 

“Slow is fine with me, cowboy.”

He looks surprised, and then huffs out a short laugh. “No one’s called me that in 20 years.”

“No one’s called me darlin’, either.” For a moment, you just lock eyes and take each other in.

“Do you want to come over for dinner soon? Maybe next week, I want to try to get Ellie to leave the house first.” He looks hopeful, but also still hesitant.

“I’d like that, Joel. And I’m happy to wait until she’s ready. I’m still getting used to these- um, these feelings, myself.” He nods, and you know in that moment he understands what you can’t put into words. 

“It wasn’t easy for me, at first. I reacted badly.” He shakes his head, and you think maybe this is an understatement. You reach out to grasp his wrist, right above where your hands are intertwined. “I was cold, barely living back in Boston. Mostly just dying, slowly. Not ready for all the ways that kid can get under my skin. Not ready to have someone I would- that I could let down again. Everything she did reminded me of–“ he clears his throat. “Of Sarah. And I didn’t talk about her or let anyone else talk about her for 20 years. Even saying her name, it’s…” He trails off and looks down the road back towards your houses for a moment, working his jaw as he gathers his thoughts. 

“Anyway. I think I know what you’re feeling. I’ve been there myself.” You nod, not sure what to say, or if you can get any words out. You squeeze his hand, this time. 

He steps back a little, stepping out of the moment you’ve just shared. “Anyway. We should get on. I’ll let you know about dinner, and maybe you and I can meet for lunch sometimes? Until then?” You nod and smile, even as your hands separate well before you enter the dining hall. 

…

You don’t manage lunch, but Joel does come back to you a couple of days later with an actual dinner invitation for the following Saturday, five days away. You agree of course, even though you know how anxious you’ll get with five days to wait. He must see it in your face because he reassures you, “Ellie told me to ask you, darlin’.”

So you manage, anxiously, counting down the days until Saturday. You keep busy in the stables and the garden and even eat with Tommy and Maria a couple of times, trying and failing to ban all teasing about it. He takes mercy on you when he sees the state you’ve wound yourself into by Friday afternoon. 

“Everything’ll be fine, sunshine. No need to look so gloomy.” You can’t help but roll your eyes, wondering if you’ll ever escape Tommy Miller’s puns about the weather. You see Maria doing the same but Tommy just grins, unrepentant.

“I just don’t know what to expect, which makes it worse.”

He reaches over to pat you on the arm. “Ellie’s prickly, sure, but she adopted him the same as he adopted her. She cares about what he cares about. It’ll be fine.” 

You’re not so sure, but you take the reassurance as it’s meant and try to breathe through some of your anxiety. It sort of works.

…

On Saturday you distract yourself with baking so you’ll have something in hand when you arrive at their house later. You haven’t made cookies in years (you hadn’t had the chance in years, before Jackson) but you think they turn out fine. You run out of things to do eventually and find yourself staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. With fifteen minutes to go you wrench yourself away (he knows what you look like and you’re both old, now, anyway) to finish getting ready. You glance at the shoe box by the door, wondering if you should bring it or leave it – maybe it won’t come up? It probably will, though. You sigh, unsure, and decide to leave it. You can run back and get it if you need to. Cookies in hand, you head next door. 

You wonder if Ellie was waiting at the window, because she yanks the door open before you can knock. She raises an eyebrow at you and asks, “What’s that?” nodding at the plate in your hands.

“Cookies. You’re looking better.” You hand her the plate. 

“Cookies!” her eyes get comically big as she takes them from you. Joel, demonstrating how much of a dad he still is and always will be, calls from the kitchen, “not until after dinner, Ellie!” She immediately frowns, looking mutinous. You grin at her as she rolls her eyes. 

“Don’t worry, that whole plate is for the two of you. Plenty to go around.” She looks a bit mollified, and heads towards the kitchen. You follow.

You find Joel at the stove, spooning something out of a pan and on to three plates. “Whatever that is, it smells amazing, Joel.” 

He smirks at you over his shoulder. “It’s pepper chicken.”

“No fucking way.” 

It’s out before you can help yourself - you haven’t had a meal like that, from Before, in ages. Ellie snorts. “He’s been talking this up all day, it better be fucking good.”

He eyes her a little, but you cursed first (whoops), so what’s he going to say? He looks back to you and explains that Tommy helped him figure out how to make it with what they have in Jackson. “Hopefully it’s about the same.” 

The three of you settle at the table as he sets out the plates, and you notice they’ve put a candle in the center of the table. 

“Nice ambiance,” you say, grinning at him a little, trying to shake off your nerves.

Ellie laughs, a single emphatic ha!, loud and bright. “He would not stop talking about that candle all damn day. I told him it was cheesy, so he wanted to get rid of it, but then I told him you apparently liked cheesy romantic shit, so he should keep it.” Joel is staring Ellie down and clearly wants her to stop talking, but she’s looking at you and you’re nodding to encourage her.

“Oh? I do like cheesy romantic shit.” Ellie laughs again, clearly at his expense. “What else did he say?”

“That’s enough of that, I think,” Joel interrupts, cutting Ellie another look. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

You roll your eyes and see Ellie does the same. She grins at you, but then seems to catch herself – like she’s enjoying the back and forth, but isn’t sure of you yet. Fair.

You take a bite of the chicken and can’t stop the moan you let out at the taste. “Holy shit, Joel. How did you manage this?” When you look at him he’s already staring at you, fork dangling from his fingers, looking a little bit like he just got hit over the head with something. “Joel?”

He coughs and adjusts his seat. “Um, right. It wasn’t so hard, just traded for some ingredients from the garden. It’s good?”

“It’s great,” Ellie says. Clearly it’s true because she’s making the chicken disappear at the speed of light. At the same time she’s somehow also darting her eyes between the two of you, like you’re doing something suspicious. She lets the silence hang for a moment, but then asks, “so, what have you been up to for the last 20 years?”

“Ellie! I told you, we don’t need to hash everything out all at once. We can take it slow.” Joel cuts in, eyebrows furrowed in her direction. 

“Oh come on, Joel, you’re such a dinosaur. But like, not one of the cool ones. Just ask! Why waste time?” You wonder what you did to make Ellie want to ask. You were nervous before, but now you’re feeling a bit like you’re walking a tightrope again. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? It’s impossible to tell, but it feels like it will go over worse if you refuse.

“We can talk about it. I don’t mind.” You try to give Joel an encouraging look as you respond. He’s quiet for a moment but then agrees. 

“Alright. Don’t see why we shouldn’t, I guess.” His voice takes on a teasing note as he looks back towards Ellie. “Let’s just jump right in, since you want to so bad.” She rolls her eyes at him again.

“So, let’s hear it! Where have you been?” 

You take a deep breath, trying to decide where to start. You know from Tommy the outline of what they did, where Joel has been – the locations, a few major events, and so on. But you don’t think he knows much about your story. You set down your fork and begin. 

“On Outbreak day, I was in Boston at a conference for work. Joel and I talked on the phone that morning before the conference, but by the end of the day… well. Everything changed.” You take a sip of water. This part, at least, you’ve told someone before, so it’s not as hard to organize your thoughts. “I tried to call, I think everyone did, but the phones went down pretty quick. There was chaos, and then there was what became the QZ, later. But I left before they really got it going. I went south – all I wanted was to get home. To get to Texas.” You’ve been speaking to Ellie, mostly, but at this point you finally look at Joel, and you find him staring at you, unblinking, with the unreadable expression on his face that you know means he’s trying to hide some strong emotion. You look away from both of their gazes and down to the table, gathering yourself.

“I found a group heading south and went with them. We made it to Baltimore, but it was such a goddamn mess. They didn’t want to keep going and I didn’t want to go alone – I knew back then that I wouldn’t make it far – so I stayed, thinking I’d find another group. But staying for a little while turned into a long while and, well. You’ve probably heard what happened to the QZ there in ‘07.” Joel nods, you can see him out of the corner of your eye. You look at him again and find him the same as a moment ago, but with his fists clenched so tight his knuckles are white. You realize you’re staring and look away.

“At that point I was clinging to the hope that my family was still alive with the barest tips of my fingers. But having to leave Baltimore pushed me further south, and I ended up in Atlanta. And, well,” you look at Joel. “I ran into Joyce.” Joel starts in his seat, hands relaxing in his surprise. 

“Joyce Roberts?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yep. That Joyce. Can you believe it? Just walked right into her on the street one day.” You look at Ellie again. “Joyce lived on our street, back in Austin. This was in ‘08, I guess? And we had a whole reunion moment, and then she just looked at me, and I knew. I knew what she was about to say.” You feel yourself start to choke up, and close your eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I know now that she was wrong, but then, it was crystal clear, like a movie playing in front of my eyes as she told me what happened. She said she’d seen you that night, Joel, you and Tommy and Sarah. You sped out of the neighborhood in the truck, and somehow she saw Tommy again, in the chaos after that plane crashed. After that she lost you again, but she asked after you later at one of the camps. She said they told her that according to their records, all three of you were dead.” You’re whispering, at this point, but you try to breathe through it. 

“I guess the, um, the news about what happened with Sarah and then... after… that news got around from the field hospital, but not quite correctly. So some list of survivors got updated wrong. It’s not like those lists were worth much, not for much longer. It was before everyone stopped trying to keep track like that.” You open your eyes, and glance at Joel. He’s pale. 

“But anyway. She was sure, and it had been five years. It killed whatever hope I had left.”

You’re quiet for a moment. You see Joel is barely breathing next to you, his hands clutching the edge of the table. Ellie’s eyes are wide and her face says she’s not sure if she should make any noise at all. You know Joel knows what you were alluding to after Sarah’s death and you don’t want to bring it up any more than that, not now. You’d heard it from Joyce and it’s been a weight ever since.

“Um, anyway. I guess I’ll… we can talk about that another time.” You glance between them and rub your hands on your thighs. Breathe. “So I was in Atlanta for a while. Probably about 8 years? I just worked, like everyone else. Made some sort-of friends.” You hesitate, thinking about Michelle. You decide you’ll come back to it later. You’re already choking on the words as they leave your mouth. 

“But by ‘16, I had to leave. It was getting… weird, in the QZ. And for other reasons.” You take another sip of water. “By that time I was more capable of surviving on my own. Like everyone these days, I guess. So I headed west, thinking I’d go home, see what was there. Turns out I beat Tommy back to Austin by a year or two.” 

You turn to Joel. “That’s why he barely found anything in the house. I, uh, got there first.” You see it dawn on him. “Yeah. I have some stuff over at my house, I wasn’t sure we’d talk about it. I can go get it later.”

“What- what stuff?” He looks like he wants to know and doesn’t want to know, at the same time. You know the feeling. 

“You remember the photo calendars we had made in ‘02 and ‘03? Those, and a couple other pictures. Sarah’s favorite book. One of your shirts and the- um. The belt buckle.” You cleared your throat. “Some new clothes for me. And, um.” You meet his eyes. “That mix CD, from when we got together. Some other little stuff.” He looks overwhelmed. “Yeah, there’s a lot. I’ll bring it over, ok? You can go through it, keep stuff.” He nods, looking far away.

Ellie looks like she’s about ready to burst. “What CD? And what happened in Atlanta? What about after Austin? What next?”

You smile a little at her questions. “Ok, let’s see. Well, Sarah helped Joel burn me a mix CD – do you know what that means?” She shrugs, saying she knows what a CD is. “Ok, close enough. Basically Sarah and Joel created the list of songs and put it on the CD. It had some of our favorite songs to dance to on it. I haven’t seen a CD player in years but I took the CD anyway. 

“Atlanta…” you swallow. “Let’s come back to that, ok? After Austin, I kept heading west. I found some people in west Texas who weren’t so bad to stay with, for a bit. I think I was there for about two years? And then I decided to head to Kansas City, but I heard some bad stuff before I ever got there. I ended up making it work with what was left of the Dallas QZ for a while. I did ok there, anyway. And then last year I decided to head out this way, and Tommy literally stumbled over me on a patrol and scared the shit out of me and turned my life upside down in the process.” 

You stop, and the three of you are quiet. All you hear is the sound of your own breathing.. You aren’t sure what else to say without getting too deep into things you don’t feel ready to talk about, from Baltimore and Atlanta and Dallas. None of them were easy and all of them still hurt at least a little bit. You hope Ellie doesn’t ask but you’ll try if she does.

Joel looks like he’s still trying to take in everything you said, but he finally says, “I wonder if we ever passed each other. Tommy and I, well, our goal at the beginning, as much as we had one, was to get to Boston. To you. But somewhere around Dallas we heard that the initial Outbreak in Boston had been so bad, there were barely any survivors. And I-“ he clears his throat. “I, um, wasn’t in the best shape, back then. It convinced me you were gone, like Sarah, and well. I wasn’t… I couldn’t…” he just shakes his head. “We didn’t actually get there until years later. I guess we could try to match it all up, make a timeline.” 

You shudder. Were you ever in the same place at the same time, unknowing? You almost don’t want to know. 

“I don't think I’m ready for that.” He shakes his head, agreeing with you. “I think that’s all I can do tonight.” You look back at Ellie. She’s studying you. 

“We can talk more later,” she agrees, “but I have one question.” You nod, fixing your face into something neutral. A slightly mischievous look comes across her face. “Can we listen to the CD? We have a player in the living room.” 

You start and bang your hand on the table. “You do? Fuck, I never thought I’d find one.” Joel sighs, and rolls his eyes as you shake out your hand. “I’m allowed to curse, old man, I’m just as old as you.”

“Not quite, darlin’.” He smiles at you. You start to come down from the emotional rollercoaster of the last half hour and smile back. 

“Let me go grab the CD.”

You run back to your house, and after a moment’s thought, grab the entire shoebox. He can look through it later. 

When you return to their house, Ellie and Joel have moved to the living room, and she’s elbowing him and saying something you don’t catch that makes him put his face in his hands. She grins and spots you in the door. You hand her the CD.

Ellie inspects it carefully, seeing the handwritten tracklist in the little paper insert that has yellowed a bit with age. “Joel, did you really make this?” He nods. 

“Sarah did the technical work but we made it together.”

“You weren’t lying, he really was a cheesy romantic. How many of these are in Spanish?” He sighs in a long-suffering way, falling back onto the couch. It makes you smile. 

“Like I told you, it’s who he is.” You look at him, and despite the grumpy act he’s putting on for Ellie, he winks at you. It sets off fireworks inside of you and you smile, helplessly.

Ellie gets the CD in the player, and the whirring noise it makes as it spins the disc sends a wave of nostalgia over you, unexpectedly strong. You resist closing your eyes, knowing what you’ll hear first. You want to see Ellie’s reaction. 

You try to control your face, watching as “La Bomba” starts. She looks confused, and then incredulous. 

“What the fuck is this?” 

You start to laugh, and you see Joel chuckling, too. You know “Suavemente” is up next so you look at him and hold out your hand. “Want to show her?” He gives you a look, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he’ll do. But he stands, of course, and takes your hand. 

“Sure, darlin’.” And then he starts to move.

You weren’t lying when you said you hadn’t danced in 20 years. But somehow, in Joel Miller’s arms, your body remembers what to do, and you start to move across the room together like no time has passed. 

Joel had taught you how to dance in his backyard, with Tommy and Sarah laughing nearby. He had shown you a bit of merengue and how to two-step that first day, and much more later, but most of the time you had just let him lead in both partner dances and line dances. Some of the songs on the CD were ones you used to dance to in his living room or in night clubs, and some were just for you. You wouldn’t say you’re doing any particular style now, as the second track starts, just that you’re dancing and following his lead. 

Ellie whistles and cheers you on from the side, but you can’t look away from Joel. His eyes are locked on you and it feels impossible to look anywhere else. You float through the dance, feeling like your feet are barely touching the floor. 

When the song ends and “Lambada” starts, you force yourself to step back, a bit overwhelmed with how much the dance affected you. 

“Ellie, do you want to learn?” She looks surprised, and then uncertain. 

“Um, maybe? I’m not sure I want to dance with anyone.” 

You tilt your head as you look at her, a hunch forming in the back of your mind, and smile. “Maybe give it a try?” She nods and Joel beckons her over. As they get in position you search through the tracklist to a song you think might work for a lesson. You skip ahead to the Shakira song later on the list because you think the slower beat will help.

You sit on the couch to watch Joel start to direct Ellie around the room, but it pretty quickly becomes clear that it’s not working. She’s fighting him with every step and they keep bumping into each other. It seems you were right – maybe Ellie, headstrong as she is, would do better leading. You stand up.

“I think we’re teaching her the wrong part,” you say as you cut in between her and Joel. He smirks, gesturing for you to take his place as he moves towards the couch. “Ellie, why don’t you try leading for a bit.” You direct her and it’s immediately pretty obvious that she’s more comfortable controlling the dance. She learns a couple of easy steps and starts to lead you carefully around the room, picking up on what Joel had been trying to do as well. 

After a couple of minutes you look over your shoulder at him, grinning, but you see that he’s gotten distracted by the open shoebox on the coffee table. He’s got his belt buckle in one hand, thumb tracing the design absently, like he still remembers the exact shape of the letters after all these years. With the other he reaches in to pull out the 2002 calendar. It’s the one with you and Sarah on the front, smiling for the camera and posing in front of the lake you used to visit in the summer. 

You don’t even realize you’ve stopped dancing until Ellie bumps into you. “What’s wrong?” she asks, looking around you at Joel. “Oh.” 

Joel seems to realize you’re both looking at him, and he looks up at you, that familiar unreadable look on his face. “Sorry, I just looked in and couldn’t help it. I–”

“It’s alright. Maybe that’s enough of a lesson for today, anyway.” You smile a little. “You can hold on to the box, we can figure it out later. Or talk about it. Whatever you want. I kept, um, one of Sarah’s hair ties, with the yellow beads. There’s another one in there.” There’s one more thing back at your house that you decide to keep to yourself for now. Neither of you are ready for that. “And, um. I gave Tommy your mom’s bracelet. For Maria.” 

Joel snorts. “The one you always hated and thought was ugly as sin?” You laugh. 

“Yep, that’s the one.”

The atmosphere in the room has gotten heavier, the moment clearly over, and the two of you have become awkward, losing all the ease you found when dancing. Ellie steps into the middle of it, and says, “well, I still have questions, but I can already hear Joel telling me I’m being rude like the cranky old man he is, so next time, I guess.” 

You feel a bit lighter at her words. Next time? You’ll take it. “I’d like that. Thanks, Ellie.”

You start to head towards the door, and Joel carefully sets everything back in the box to join you. “You can look through it, Ellie, just be careful.” She nods, sitting gingerly next to the box on the coffee table, looking over its contents with wide eyes. The two of you step out onto the porch to say goodnight. 

You’re quiet for a moment, looking at each other. Joel regards you thoughtfully, and says, “that went about as well as it could, I think.” You agree. 

“The dinner was great, Joel.”

“Well, that too. But you and Ellie, is what I meant. I think she’s still wary of everybody but me, but seems to me like she wants to get to know you.” 

“I really hope so. She’s a force of nature, isn’t she?” He nods, smiling, and you can see in it how much he cares about her, his adopted younger daughter. 

“Sorry she brought all that up so quick.”

“It’s fine, Joel. I wanted you to know, anyway. Both of you.” 

He nods, but looks a bit hesitant. “I know we said slow and agreed, darlin’, but I hope you don’t mind if it ends up being real slow after all.” You reach out to reassure him, lightly touching his right arm.

“I need time, too, Joel. There’s things you don’t know about me yet, and things you probably want to tell me, too.” He doesn’t look reassured. You think for a moment, and add, “We know the foundation is there, right? But what we built is long gone, so we just have to see if we can build it again.” He’s looking at you like he can’t tell if you’re sincere or making a construction pun to tease him. It’s both, but he doesn’t need to know that. For now. 

“Alright, darlin’. That’s maybe enough feelings for one day.” He laughs as you roll your eyes at him. “But I have to tell you something, though, before you go.” He moves his arm and you start to move your hand away from where you were still touching him, but he catches it and laces your fingers together. 

“You’re so kind and smart and beautiful,” he starts, and your breath catches in your throat. He smiles at you. “It took my breath away back then and it still does now. I’ll be mad until the day I die that I missed out on 20 years of you, but I still can’t believe you’re here, in front of me.” He tilts his head and squeezes your hand. “You’re especially beautiful tonight. I felt as lucky to have you in my arms during that dance as I did back in ‘01.��� 

Your face has gone hot and you raise your free hand to your cheek, knowing he can tell. 

“Joel–”

“No, I want you to hear it. You were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen outside of your house with the moving truck that day we met and it’s still true now. And watching you talk to Ellie and get to know her?” He shakes his head a little, but he’s smiling. “I never thought I’d feel this way again, never thought I’d get to watch two people I care about get to know each other like that. I just wanted you to know how much it means to me. That’s all.”

That’s all, he says. Like it isn’t everything. You’re biting your lip, holding back tears by the time he’s done. You reach out to cup his cheek with your right hand. “Joel Miller, you smooth-talking son of a bitch.” He laughs outright at that, sounding a little choked up himself. 

“I’ve never been able to defend against those moves. Not that I’d want to.” You smile as he leans his head into your hand. “I’m feeling it too, ok? We should go slow, yes, but… well, like I said, we’ve got the foundation. We’re just easing into it.” He grins, and you see a glimpse of him at 32 that you weren’t expecting to ever see again. 

“Probably better, at our age.”

“Better for you maybe, old man. I’m still younger than you.”

“Darlin’, you turn 50 soon, and we both know it.” You shove him a little, grinning. He smiles back, that half smile that used to get under your skin and take your breath away. It still does. 

“Well, Joel Miller, with that I think I’ll turn in.” You start to turn away, but he reels you back in for a short hug. He holds you tightly for just a moment, whispering, “Thanks for the shoebox. I can’t… well. I’m going to take my time with it.” He pulls away.

“Take all the time you need.”

...

Austin, Spring 2001 

On Sunday, you changed your outfit five times before telling yourself to get a grip and putting back on the first thing you had pulled out of your closet, 45 minutes ago. Joel had seen literally all of these clothes before; he’d lived next door to you for six months. Get it together. You looked at yourself in the mirror, messed with your hair one last time, and then forced yourself to leave the bathroom and head downstairs. 

In the kitchen, you glanced at the clock – 5:54pm – and picked up the cookies you baked that morning, heading next door to the Millers’. 

You knocked on their door, and after a few moments with no response you knocked again. Odd. You put your ear to the door and heard music and Sarah laughing. You tried the door and realized it was unlocked. 

As you crossed the threshold you called out, “Millers? Anyone home?” Inside you could more clearly hear the music coming from the backyard, so you left the cookies in the kitchen (where something smelled amazing) and headed towards the back door.

You found it open, and you could hear Sarah laugh again as you moved closer. “Dad come on, you stepped on my toes!”

“Sarah Miller, I raised you not to tell lies.” Joel sounded out of breath, but he was laughing as he said it.

“Well, that’s definitely a lie if I ever heard one.” You leaned in the doorway, smiling as you watched Joel lead Sarah around the yard to “Rie y Llora.” Tommy jumped out of the way as Joel steered Sarah right into him in retaliation for that remark. They hadn’t noticed you yet. 

“Celia Cruz, huh?”

All three Millers turned at your question, all three smiling at you. It was a little overwhelming, as always, to have the attention of all three at once. Sarah elbowed her dad lightly and laughed, saying, “she’s Abuela's favorite.” Joel rolled his eyes. 

“It’s good music for learning,” he muttered, clearly not for the first time. 

“It looks to me like Sarah already knows what she’s doing.” You smiled at the look he shot your way.

“Ha! See, dad?”

“Sure, baby girl. Why don’t you go take Uncle Tommy for a spin, since you know what you’re doing.” With that, Joel spun Sarah towards Tommy, who caught her easily and started leading her around the yard. You laughed, and then looked back towards Joel. He was watching you with that half smile that always gave you goosebumps. 

“Do you know how to dance, darlin’?”

“In a club? Sure. Like that? No way.” 

He grinned at your answer. “Want to learn?” He held his hand out, guiding you towards him once you placed your hand in his. 

“I’ve never danced like this before. I’ll probably stomp all over your feet.” Joel placed your right hand on his shoulder, and took your left hand in his right.

“You let me worry about where our feet go, darlin’. I’ll show you the basics and then you just follow me.” And over the next 15 minutes, that’s exactly what he did. 

Soon you found yourself slowly moving around the yard to “Lambada,” definitely slower than the music called for. At some point Tommy and Sarah went inside to work on finishing dinner but you barely noticed. You were focusing on keeping up with Joel. 

Just as you started to feel a little bit confident, a slow song that you didn’t know started to play. Joel slowed the two of you as well, starting to mostly sway in place instead of moving around so much. He pulled you a little closer with his left hand around your waist.

Catching your breath, and taking your focus off of your feet, you asked, “what brought this on? I don’t think I’ve ever come over to find y’all mid-dance-lesson before.”

“Sarah’s got that school dance coming up and she’s a bit nervous.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I tried to tell her I only know how to do this and a few of those line dances they do in the clubs Tommy goes to. Not whatever dancing they’ll be doing – probably closer to your club dancing.” He winked at you, and you held on a little tighter to his shoulder. “But then she reminded me that her cousin’s party is coming up, anyway, and they will definitely be dancing just like this. So, we were practicing.”

“Cousin?” You asked, confused. Tommy didn’t have kids, and you were pretty sure there were no other Miller siblings.

“Ah, technically it’s my cousin’s kid, on my mom’s side. Easier to just say cousin. They all live down in San Antonio.” He shrugged. You nodded. 

“Well, you did a good job teaching me. Bet that’ll be a fun party.”

You realized at that point that you had slowly swayed in the direction of the trees closer to the back of the yard. You were under the shade of one of the trees, partially out of view from the house. You'd moved closer together as the dance slowed and you found yourself with your right hand on Joel’s neck, fingertips almost touching his hairline. Your eyes darted from his arms, holding you securely, to his shoulders, flexing under his shirt, up to his face. 

You looked up to find Joel looking right back at you. “See something you like, darlin’?” He smirked. You felt a rush of warmth towards your face, but you weren’t really embarrassed. You felt like your whole body was tingling, like you were heading towards something you’d been hoping for for months. Like you were racing forward and up ahead there was a cliff you might fall off of, but you’d fall together. Like the fall was the point, the destination. Your breath caught in your throat. 

“Maybe I do, neighbor,” you managed. He grinned in response, tugging you just a bit closer. Any closer and you’d feel him pressed against you everywhere.

“I know I do.”

“What?” You’d lost track of the conversation. His proximity was going to your head. 

“See something I like.” As he responded, he let go of your hand and brought his right hand up to cup your face. You saw him glance from your eyes to your mouth and in response, you pressed closer, winding your hands into his hair. Joel leaned in, and you barely felt the touch of his lips to yours, when the back door opened and Tommy shouted, “dinner’s ready, love birds! Get in here!”

Joel groaned as he stepped away from you, resting his hands on your shoulders. “I guess we should head inside.” As he said it, he lifted one hand to trace his fingertips along your cheekbone before running his hand lightly over your shoulder and down your arm. “Stick around after dinner? I’d like another dance.” You smiled as he reached down to take your hand and lead you toward the house, walking backwards and keeping his eyes trained on yours. 

“Smooth moves, Miller. Save some for later.”

He was still smiling, but suddenly you felt the intent in his gaze, more focused than even a moment ago. “Oh darlin’, don’t worry. For you I got plenty more.”

…

Dinner with the Millers was always fun, and this occasion was no different. Tommy and Sarah teased Joel mercilessly, and he got them right back, though he was always a little softer with Sarah. 

You talked and joked over dinner, noting Joel had made one of your favorites – pepper chicken – and he winked at you when you thanked him for it. Sarah updated you about her week after she got over her cold and her excitement about the upcoming dance. After dinner she rushed upstairs to talk to a friend on the phone as Tommy headed out the door (“to do some real dancing, y'all should come out sometime”). You were left with Joel in the kitchen, clearing the table together and starting in on the dishes. 

“You don’t have to help with that, darlin’, I can get ‘em later.” 

You bumped your hip against his as he slid in next to you at the sink. “It’s no bother, Joel. Let me help.” He smiled at you, softly, and nodded, picking up the towel to dry the dishes. 

You worked quietly, sometimes recalling a joke from dinner, but you mostly just enjoyed the moment together. As soon as you handed him the last dish he set it aside, still wet, to take your hand and lead you back outside. He switched the music back on with the volume low as you passed the boombox.

In one smooth motion, Joel turned and pulled you back into his arms, into the stance you had only just left before dinner. But this time he pulled you close from the start, tucking you up against him and smoothing his hand across your lower back. 

“Well hello there, darlin’. Fancy meeting you here.”

You smiled, and rolled your eyes a little. “Hey, cowboy.” You let your fingertips play with his hair along his neck. You noticed a light shiver in his shoulders as you did. 

You smirked. “Joel, are you ticklish?” 

“No, and you better not let on to Sarah that you wondered anything of the sort.” He glared at you playfully as he said it, spinning you a little into a new spot in the yard. You laughed, a bit winded even though you'd barely moved. 

“Hmm, seems like information that would be worth quite a bit to some people around here,” you mused. You brushed your fingers lightly across his hairline again, and he squirmed again in response. 

He hid a smile, pulling you in so he could whisper directly into your left ear. “But darlin’, if you keep my secret, I’ll make it worth your while.” It was your turn to shiver. 

“Oh? How so?” You’d never heard your own voice so breathless. 

He chuckled, and raised his left hand from your hip to your jaw, tilting your head to your right as he tucked his face into the left side of your neck. He ran his lips lightly from your shoulder to your jaw, sending shivers down your spine as you inhaled sharply. He kissed you, lightly, right at the hinge of your jaw, and then on your cheek, and then his mouth met yours, softly, barely there and then with gentle pressure. 

He pulled away after only a moment, and you met his eyes in a daze. His gaze was dark, and you felt like you were moving through molasses. Everything was slow, and soft, and heady. You were floating through it and Joel’s hands on you – on your cheek, holding your left hand – were the only things keeping you tethered.

Joel murmured your name. “Let me take you out.”

“When?” Your reply fell from your lips so quickly it made him smile, and you smiled back, unashamed. 

“Friday? Sarah’s got a sleepover.” He smoothed his thumb over your cheekbone. “We can go dancing, show off these moves.” 

You laughed. “Joel, I’ve barely got one, maybe two moves. You sure we don’t need another dance lesson before we take this show on the road?”

He huffed a laugh too, and turned you a little. “Just follow along with me, darlin’, I won’t let you stumble.”

You bit your lip, and nodded. “Friday.”

“Friday,” he agreed, pulling you in again. As his lips met yours again, you wondered how you were going to wait five days for more of this. Joel pulled himself away with a small groan, resting his forehead against yours. “We should stop before we get too carried away, with Sarah home.” You nodded. 

You danced a bit more, finishing out the last couple of tracks on the CD. Joel kept his forehead against yours at first, and then tucked your face into his chest, resting his cheek on top of your head and slowly swaying as the last song trailed off into silence.

You didn’t want to let go quite yet, and it seemed Joel didn’t either, as neither of you moved. You could feel your happiness at finally taking the leap together glowing in your chest – from dancing around each other to an actual dance, the months of talking and flirting had finally gotten you somewhere. But you couldn’t help but wonder.

“Joel? Why now?” You asked it softly, face still tucked into his chest. He hummed lowly in response before pulling back to meet your eyes. He regarded you silently for a moment before seeming to come to a decision. 

“I think we both felt it, right? That first day. You were – you are – the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I knew I wanted you,” he smirked as he noticed you bite your lip at that admission. He squeezed your hip. “But I realized pretty quick that with you, I wanted something real. I haven’t dated anyone in a long, long time. I wanted to take it slow, and get to know you first.” You nodded. You wanted that, too. 

“But darlin’, I realized the other day, when you were here with Sarah, that maybe there’s a line between taking it slow and just being afraid, and I was flirting with it. And I’d rather be flirting with you.” He grinned as you rolled your eyes a little bit at his joke. “I’ve been afraid for a long time. Afraid of letting someone in when it’s not just me I have to worry about.” He looked towards the house. “But Sarah loves you.”

“And I love her, Joel. That girl is special.” He smiled and nodded before looking back at you.

“I know you do. And she’s been teasing me about asking you out for months.”

“Oh yeah? Well you should know better than to ignore her advice, Joel.” 

He sighed, long-suffering, and nodded. “I know it.”

Joel pulled away and started to head back to the house, right hand reaching for your left. You felt a little shaky, like you really had been floating for the last half hour. 

As you approached the front door, he squeezed your hand. “I’ll see you Friday, darlin’.”

“You sure will, cowboy.” He smiled and pulled you in for another short kiss. 

“Now get, before we get any bad ideas.” 

You laughed, and headed out the door he opened for you. 

“Night, darlin’.”

“See you Friday, Joel.”

...

a/n: see you 8/20 for chapter 4 (aka, when the smut arrives lol)

update: ch 4 now posted!

Tag list

@morgaussy @jay-zzle @bluetattoos @dins-riduur-anthe

[quinns-shadowy-arts]

No More Running

Day 7 of @steddielovemonth‘s Steddie Love Month Event!   Rating: General CW: None Tags: Fluff, Getting Together, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a romantic  WC: 1,122 Prompt: “Love is what makes you brave” submitted by @sidekick-hero

Note: Guess who came down with a cold. Me. Guess who ignored their many deadlines to write this. Also me. Sorry if this isn’t the best (and is also very late), but I’m pretty sick and can’t breathe out of my nose. I wanted something soft to make me feel better, so I wrote this. Enjoy!

He wasn’t going to run anymore. That’s what Eddie promised himself when he woke up from surgery after being dragged out of the Upside Down. He wasn’t going to run, and he hasn’t. He hadn’t run from Wayne, he hadn’t run from the somehow alive Jim Hopper, he hadn’t run away from the aftermath of Vecna, and he wasn’t going to run from this. 

Eddie’s been developing feelings for Steve since he made that promise. Waking up to learn that the Steve Harrington bridal carried his half dead body out of hell really does something to a guy. Not only that, but Steve is one of the sweetest guys Eddie has ever met. Long gone is the King Steve of Hawkins High; replaced by a loving, caring, and smart man. 

Steve had been there for Eddie through the whole recovery process. He helped with proving that Eddie was innocent, he helped Eddie with bathing, and he helped Eddie with cleaning and wrapping his wounds.

 Steve also helped Eddie with processing the trauma of Spring Break. He held Eddie’s hand and talked him through panic attacks. He stayed awake with Eddie when sleep seemed like a monstrous task; the fear of what he’d dream fraying Eddie’s nerves and keeping him awake. 

Steve was also just an amazing person overall. He had an amazing sense of humor; making Eddie’s ribs ache with the laughter he tugged out of him. Steve was smart, he could read people’s emotions like no other. He knew exactly what Eddie was feeling by looking at him for only a couple of seconds. Steve could pull the real reasons as to why Eddie was quiet out of him when no one else could.

He was easy on the eyes, too. His chestnut hair looked glorious, styled or not. His eyes were kind and genuine; but could turn bitchy in a way that sent heat down Eddie’s spine. Steve’s hands were big and spotted with freckles and moles, like the rest of his body. His skin was sun kissed and hairy. Everything about him made Eddie want to pounce on him. 

Everything about Steve had made Eddie fall head over heels in love with him. Eddie knew about Steve’s woeful dating history; knew about Steve’s failed loves. How people have used Steve for a quick fling or bragging rights before tossing him to the side. 

Eddie wanted to give Steve the world. Eddie wanted to worship Steve the way he deserved; to kneel at his feet and kiss up his body, to whisper praises into his ear, to pump Steve full of love and want, and maybe some other things besides love, too. Eddie wanted to make sure Steve knew that he deserved better than those past flings could have ever provided.

That’s why Eddie is stood outside of Steve’s font door, holding a bouquet of deep, ruby roses. Eddie had put on a black button up and black jeans. His wallet chain still dangled on his hip, complementing the silver of his rings. He had tied his hair up into a bun, leaving some framing pieces around his face. He spent a while on doing himself up, had wanted to look good for Steve.

He leaned forward and knocked at the door. Steve always teased him about not using the doorbell, but Eddie liked knowing that Steve knew it was him at the door based on his knock alone. 

Eddie heard shuffling from behind the door before the sounds of the lock being opened filled his ears. His heart picked up its pace, knowing how close Steve was. Eddie sends out one last prayer, despite not believing in any type of greater being, that Steve felt the same way he did. And if he didn’t, to at least keep Steve in his life for as long as possible. 

The door swung open, Steve stood in the doorway in grey sweatpants and a Hall and Oates T-shirt. He looked absolutely gorgeous like this, soft and relaxed. He had obviously been lounging around before Eddie had come knocking on his door. 

“Hey, Eds!” Steve said, a smile stretched across his face. Eddie’s gut filled with warmth. His heart stuttered with the overwhelming love he felt for this man. 

“Hey, Stevie. I hope I’m not bothering you?” Eddie said. Steve shook his head,

��Nah, man. You’re not bothering me.” Steve looked down,

“What’re those for?” Steve looked back up and made eye contact with Eddie. 

“They’re uh, they’re for you, actually.” Eddie turned his head away. He could feel his face warming up. He held the roses out for Steve to take, hopefully he’d take them. 

Steve grabbed the bouquet, pulling Eddie’s attention back up. Steve’s own cheeks and ears flushed. 

“Why? Is there an event or something that I’m missing?” Steve sounded shy and a bit nervous. Eddie shook his head and smiled at Steve. 

“No, I just wanted to get you flowers. Could I talk to you, actually?” Eddie asked, he shuffled his weight from foot-to-foot as he spoke. He was nervous and scared about confessing his feelings to Steve. He really hoped that this wouldn’t destroy their friendship. 

“Sure, yeah, come inside.” Steve said, stepping away to make space for Eddie. Eddie stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He turned to Steve, straightened his back and gathered all of the courage he could muster. 

“Steve, you’re my best friend. You mean so much to me. You’re so kind and amazing.” Steve’s blush deepened at Eddie’s words, 

“You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. You’re strong, not just physically, but in every aspect of the word. You are so observant, you can always tell when I’m upset. You can read me like a goddamn book,” Steve chuckled and looked down at the roses in his hand, he was never really good with accepting praise.

“You are my everything, Stevie. And I’ve developed a lot of feelings for you, So, would you like to go out with me?” Eddie finished. Steve’s eyebrows had raised with surprise, his mouth forming an “o” shape. Steve blinked, then his mouth fell back into a smile.  

Steve walked up to Eddie, dropping the hand holding his flowers to the side. He placed his free hand onto Eddie’s face. His thumb swiped over Eddie’s cheek before pulling him in. 

Their lips smooshed together and a fire lit up in Eddie’s chest. Steve’s lips moved against Eddie’s, their lips forming a rhythmic push and pull. After a minute, Steve pulled back. He smiled at Eddie, both their faces still red and warm to the touch. 

“I would love to go out with you, Eddie” Steve whispered against Eddie’s lips. 

Eddie’s so glad he didn’t run from this.

[babyboiboyega]

Gekko Headcanons #1 : The Cookout

Pairing: Mateo De la Fuente/Gekko x Black!Gn!reader Headcanon: Taking Mateo to a family cookout would include... Content: fluff, profanity Word Count: 2.6k Author's Note: its been toooo long since I've written something, and of course my newest hyperfixation is the thing that gets me to write again LMAO gotta love it y'know? I am very new to the world of Valorant and this character, so please...if any of this seems ooc, kindly let me know. I'm still learning about him, I'm still feeling him out, but I just enjoy the character so much already. I also enjoyed writing this, so I hope y'all enjoy! <3 Tag list: @liyaawrites (aka, the person responsible for this obsession!!)

I wanna start off by saying that the second you mention taking Mateo to meet your family, the boy is geeked out of his mind. Maybe it's in passing during a conversation, or maybe you consciously bring up the topic once you feel it's the right time; either way, it’s met with wide, brown eyes that sparkle in excitement, and thick lips that part on an immediate agreement. Not only does an agreement follow, but he also immediately starts to ask what he should bring. What kind of get-together is it? Does he need to know anything beforehand? How does he need to dress, because he’ll be damned if he shows up underdressed when meeting the family of the person he loves. He only stops worrying when you tell him exactly what the function is – a cookout – and what he’s expected to bring – some dish that your mom/grandmother/auntie or other family member is requesting. And once those questions are answered, he goes straight to worrying about making sure it’s up to their standards. You have no idea why, but your family gives you and him the job of bringing the macaroni (and not any store-bought macaroni- they’ll know the difference). When he learns that it has to be homemade and that its a staple in the entire cookout, he instantly looks up recipes while thinking back to the ones his ma or abuela would use, wanting to put his own spin on it while also wanting to make a good first impression. It gets to the point where you find him up late one night, his phone’s screen illuminating his features from where he lays beside you. He’d turn his phone to you sheepishly, apologizing for the bright light and displaying a page called “how not to make macaroni and cheese” or something along those lines with a sheepish smile.

“Think they’ll like this one?” “Teo…baby…it’s 3 am.” “...you’re right, I should look for another one-”

The days leading up to the cookout are spent with him constantly going on about how excited he is to meet your family – specifically the cousins you’re the closest to and have mentioned before. In response, you warn him that your family can be…a bit much, specifically when someone brings their partner around. They have a tendency to ask too many questions, get a little too comfortable joking around, and are just all around loud and obnoxious sometimes…and he’d only reassure you with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow that not only is his family the same, but he’s so used to being around large families as his used to have get togethers all the time. He’s dealt with it before, and it'd be worth it to deal with it again if it meant he got to meet your folks. Despite the sentiments, you still warn him – especially of that aunt who always likes to make smart-ass comments and loves calling others out despite having her own problems in her life, to which he lets you know that he’s dealt with one of those and he’ll make sure that y’all are far away from that aunt at all times. He would offer to keep you dancing all night just so you had an excuse to not talk to that person, which would only lead to a conversation involving line dances. 

Despite Mateo's affinity for the punk/skater aesthetic, I’d like to think that his Hispanic roots have resulted in him having a good sense of rhythm. I also like to think that he listens to a lot of music in his spare time, fostering an appreciation for different genres. With that being said, I think our boy could keep up with the line dances. When you offer to teach him a few just for fun, he’d be excited as hell, his lips curling into a full-blown smile as he’d watch you turn the music on and scroll through the first ‘cookout line dance’ playlist you find. When you find a suitable one and try to teach him, he’d be playful about the entire thing, claiming that he needs you to do it a few times although you know its just so he can see you dance, his eyes lingering heavily on your hips as you do so. And when you finally get him to join you, you realize that he may not have the steps down, but he’s got enough swag and rhythm to keep up and look like he knows what he’s doing, which is enough. 

“One more time, princesa- I promise. I’ll get it this time.” “You’re just looking at my ass, Mateo-” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” (with a shit eating grin on his face)

Now…when it gets to the day of the cookout, you two would be up pretty early, going to get the supplies to make the macaroni before starting on it at home. He’d want to help so badly, but he’d also have no problem getting your input on it – after all, it is your family and you know how they usually like their macaroni. But he’d also insist on doing most of it himself which would result in about a few hours of him moving around the kitchen with a focused look on his face. His focus is only broken by you checking in on him, it instantly changing to a cocky, yet playful, smirk as he would nod to the pan that’s in the oven. 

“How’s it goin, baby?” “Look at that masterpiece and tell me how it’s goin, mi carino. You see that golden brown on the top, you smell that delicious, scrumptious, decadent-” “Aaaalright, that’s enough-”

You know I have to mention the process of picking out outfits. I absolutely believe that Mateo would not only be down for, but would love being one of those couples that wears complimenting outfits. Not matching completely, but maybe having one article of clothing that’s the same color or maybe even wearing the same accessories. You two have too much personality and style to limit yourselves to wearing the exact same thing when going out, so he would love to wear complimenting outfits. He’d always make sure to pick colors that you enjoy wearing despite thinking that you look beautiful in every color. 

“What about green?” “Oh…well…you know I don’t exactly look the best in green, baby.” “I wholeheartedly disagree, but we can look for something else, mi amor. No problem-”

I think that he’d be so invested in making sure y’all look good that he’d kind of forget about the macaroni that's in the oven. You can’t even blame him, because you’d be able to see the excitement radiating off of him as he gets ready, so you’d just gently, but amusedly, remind him. 

“Teo.” “Yeah?” “Your macaroni-” “Mierda- my macaroni-!”

His attention would instantly switch to the macaroni, so much so that he’d still be standing in the kitchen, his eyes on the oven when you walk in fully dressed with Wingman trailing behind you, Mateo’s shirt in his beak as he chirps and trills. You wouldn’t be able to understand him, but you don’t really have to to understand the comedic radivore’s noises. You’d only be able to nod and agree with the little guy as you both watch Mateo hurriedly throw on his shirt before taking out the macaroni. 

Now…lets get to the cookout itself. He’d hear the music and chatter immediately after stepping out of the car and would just look at you with a smile and excited eyes, offering to take the dish with one hand and your hand with the other. You’d be able to see that recognition in his eyes, the myriad of sounds that signify a family fellowship being ever so familiar to him. Homeboy would walk in the door with a wide and inviting smile, greeting people politely while also showing that he can be rather extroverted when he wants to be. Of course, he gets the typical ‘this must be yo lil friend’ from your family members, but he takes it in stride. But while taking it all in stride, he’d also make sure to kiss your cheek, your forehead, hold your hand, wrap an arm around your waist– anything to show that the words ‘lil friend’ are just a title your family members have given him, and that the truth is he’s yours. 

He’d show the macaroni to the family member(s) in charge of the food, watching with baited breath as they take the foil off of the top, their eyes looking at the golden-brown cheese on top before looking up at you two with a smile. 

“Oooh, this looks good, Y/N.” “Actually, Mateo made it. I just helped him when he needed it; it was all him.”

He’d absolutely be geeked when they turn to him with an impressed look, their smile widening as they set it on the table with the rest of the food. And if you thought he had a big head when being told that it looked good, it’s nothing compared to when the first family member comes up and tells him that it tasted good. Chile, you’d never hear the end of it…though you don’t want to. It’d be endearing and sweet that he takes so much pride in making something your family enjoys. And when it comes to him actually eating the food prepared, he would not hold his appreciation back. There’d be a lot of ‘who made this’, followed by just as many ‘dios mio’s as he can dish out. The same goes for the dessert portion, especially the homemade pound cakes from your family members. Yeah, he’d have no problem asking for a to-go box; one for food, and one for dessert. 

Throughout the duration of the cookout, he’d find himself constantly in conversation with someone from your family, whether it be because he had been pulled into a conversation, or whether it was because someone approached him with the intent of asking questions. Either way, Mateo would be game for any question asked, usually answering with an air of confidence, friendliness, and humor that made others love him instantly. When asked questions about you two’s relationship, he’d be quick and incredibly willing to answer, his eyes glancing at you adoringly as he does so with a smile on his face. It’d get to a point where you would have to ‘rescue’ him from more questions, citing that you wanted to dance just to get him away from your family member(s). And he’d happily let you pull him away, however, not before promising the uncles gathered around a table that he’d play spades with them the next round. 

At some point in the night, you’d lose him for a few minutes, coming back to his empty seat after fixing a plate of dessert for both of you, and after scouring the yard, hoping that he hasn’t gotten himself into a less than pleasant conversation, you finally find him. Except he isn’t in a conversation- not with an adult, anyway. No, he’s seated in the yard, not too far at all from the kids table, smiling widely as the kids from your family gather around him. Their hands reach for and gently run over his hair, the dyed shapes and colors instantly catching their attention as they speak over each other, asking him questions.

“Why’d you do that to your hair?” “Did it hurt? Why’d you pick spots?” “My mama says people who dye their hair like that don’t want a job.” “Can I do that to my hair?”

You’d only be able to watch in fondness for a few minutes as he struggles to answer their questions, his facial expression showing exactly how much he enjoyed being the center of attention for the kids. It would get to a point where he’d look up at you with an expression that screamed for help despite the smile still on his face, and you wouldn’t hesitate in rescuing him. You’d never seen Mateo around kids before now, but going off of the vibes and interactions you’d see, it’d be easy to come to the conclusion that he’s pretty okay with kids. Because of his chill demeanor, not only is he seen as ‘cool’ to the youngins, but he’s also easy to interact with. It would certainly help that he’s got a little crew of adorable creatures who are intelligent enough to interact carefully with the kids. There’d be peels of laughter and excited chatter as Wingman does a trick when prompted by Mateo. There’d also be a time where Wingman turns to Mateo, chirping quickly and constantly looking back at the kids…and after a short conversation between the two, he’d probably smile, nodding his head towards the kids with a ‘have fun, be careful’. That’d be the only thing Wingman needs to hear before turning and joining the group of kids in their activities, the laughter being a constant noise as long as the creature is interacting with them. 

When it gets to the end of the night and people start filtering out of the yard, he’d check in with you, asking you if you’re tired or if you still want to hang around with a look of understanding for whatever answer you give. It's only when you smile tiredly and sheepishly at him that he’d nod with a smile, telling you that maybe it's time to go. It wouldn’t be long before you two have a bag with your to-go boxes in them, making your rounds with your family members and saying goodnight. He’d leave Wingman to play with the remaining kids until it’d be time to go, waving him over once you two are ready to leave. (You can’t help but feel like you two have your own little family, and the earlier sight of him interacting with the kids certainly adds fuel to that thought). 

The ride home would be spent going over certain conversations and interactions that had happened during the night, showing just how attentive Mateo had been the entire night. You’d also learn of some of the conversations he’d had when you weren’t around…and he’d instantly wave away your apologies for the nature of those conversations, an easygoing and amused smile on his face as he does so.

“Please tell me she did not say that to you- I’m so sorry, love-” “No need to say sorry. It was pretty funny, so its okay, mi cielito. So…you tried to turn the speed all the way up on the treadmill, yeah?” “Yeah, that’s enough of that-”

To put it simply: Mateo would be ecstatic that he not only got to spend an entire day with you and your family, but that he got to see how you interact with your family. It’s truly nothing like seeing the love of your life in their safe space with people they trust. He could’ve sat and watched you speak to cousins, aunties, uncles, whoever else and would’ve been completely satisfied. He’d go to bed thinking about the glow you had on your face as you spoke to family members you’d missed, and how he’d heard and seen you genuinely laugh with cousins when recounting old stories, and how you and your family connected over food, music, and fellowship...and yeah, he’d have to admit to himself in the middle of the night, while holding you close, that he couldn’t wait to have that with you in the future.

A/N: I hope that was fun to read, it was certainly fun to write! Once again, this is my first time writing for this character that I just found out about like...two weeks ago, y'all...be patient with me while I'm learning. BUT I'm gonna really try to write more this summer because I definitely won't have time to in the fall, so keep an eye out!

[gepardling]

late bloomer w/ gepard.

desc. : Am i projecting a little? Gepard's reaction to falling in love feels like something I would do... I might make a 2nd part. (wc : 1.5k)

tags / cw : sfw, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns, just fluff, mostly Gepard's emotional state, glaring romance trope if u can spot it, tried proofreading but i'm sleepy

index : part 2

Gepard, being a man driven by duty, has structured his entire life around fulfilling the expectations placed upon him. To be a shield. To protect the people. To fight for Belobog. This strong sense of responsibility has created a wall between his work and personal life, leading him to prioritize work above all else. The casual word for this would be a "workaholic," but Gepard vehemently denies this term if anyone were to use it against him.

He was NOT a workaholic, insisting that he had other hobbies. For instance, he enjoys cooking and tending to plants. Though he’d be too shy to really admit it, so does it even count? More often than not, he would be training if he's off duty anyways, driven by that same old galvanized stubbornness that's been bred into him by the Landau bloodline. Serval, his sister, had even called him out on it before, making repeated attempts to encourage him to relax.

"Gepard, you just can't seem to appreciate the delicate and fun things in life anymore…" Today’s topic: Women. 

It's no secret that the Silvermane Captain was… To put it lightly, woefully unskilled regarding matters of the heart. In fact, he seems to avoid romantic entanglements altogether, putting off his responsibility to marry and carry on the Landau bloodline. This hesitancy was Gepard's sole reservation, yet he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason behind it. He just wasn’t too focused on that aspect of his life right now, or so he’d convinced himself for years.

"Is that a streak of rebellion? Oh, heavens, no! Shame on you, Gepard! What would father think of your reluctance to do what's expected of you," Serval quipped, barely finishing her dramatic display before emitting the most irritating chortle that had ever graced Gepard's cochleas. 

"What do you expect me to do? Drag some girl off the street?" He retorted, almost annoyed at his sister's amusement over his predicament. 

"NO, silly. God, you're so serious all the time. Loosen up! That's not how dating works. No girl would want to go out with you if you're so stuck up about it." 

Sure, Serval was only joking. Yet, those words made his heart clench a little, ringing painfully through his mind. Was he really just too serious? It felt as if he had abruptly become painfully conscious of his own personality, prompting a reassessment of his life up until this point. Serval observed a distant gaze in his eyes, and by now it was evident that this deeply troubled her younger brother.

"Listen, Gepard," her tone softened greatly from before, "There's nothing wrong with you. If you need any help, you know you can always count on me. Even if it is about girls." She smiled, giving him a pat on the back. 

Gepard smiled and expressed his gratitude, then stepped out of the workshop to endure yet another round of patrols. Despite the abundance of heaters scattered around, the air felt noticeably chillier. Maybe this is what it feels like when you suddenly realize the emptiness inside? No, now he's just being overdramatic. It's really not that bad…

In the weeks that followed, Gepard found himself paying closer attention to his soldiers’ banter. They often talked about their lovers, or shared tales of their nights out trying to charm attractive women. It puzzled Gepard that people could pursue courtship simply for… Enjoyment? Without the intention of marriage? However, he remained too reserved to participate in those conversations. It wasn't rare for him to overhear his name being mentioned, followed by "Nah, he wouldn't be interested in joining us." 

It stung a little. Even his own soldiers don’t see him as someone who could loosen up and have a good time. They believed he was too detached to truly enjoy their company… Damn, no friends, no lover. Gepard really is married to his own job at this point. Little did he know that his life wouldn't be so bland forever. On this particular day he would cross paths with an ordinary girl from Belobog, destined to change his perspective. 

The meeting was awfully unceremonious. Gepard, carrying out his usual patrol duties, was stationed in the town. Just as he had reached the bottom of the steps of Qlipoth Fort, the sound of rapid footsteps grew nearer. Everything happened so fast that he barely had time to process it. Suddenly, a girl sprinted around the corner, clutching a stack of papers and a brown bag tightly to her chest. Before she even noticed Gepard’s presence, it was already too late…

The air filled with the fluttering of scattered papers, accompanied by the sound of vegetables hitting the cold stone ground. In the chaos, her head collided with Gepard’s armored chest piece (this was a very dangerous garment, in hindsight), emitting a resounding clang. A startled shriek escaped her lips. Reacting swiftly, Gepard managed to catch her before she could tumble to the ground. However, her belongings were lost, whisked away by the wind.

"Ooowwww…" she groaned, her hand tenderly rubbing the fresh red bruise on her forehead. "Watch where you're g…" Her words trailed off as her gaze traveled upward, meeting his face. Oh no. She found herself instantly recoiling, attempting to distance herself from the imposing figure of the tall Captain.

"I-I'm so sorry, Captain! I didn't see you, I... uhm… I mean, I didn't mean to!" Her apologies poured forth like a frantic stream, falling from her mouth like a waterfall. The Captain’s silence only made her panic more, and the firm grip on her arm indicated that the situation might not bode well.

But he wasn't upset, no not at all! In fact, he was so captivated by her beauty that he barely registered what was going on around him. Her words entered one ear, and exited the other. His gaze remained fixed on her eyes, marveling at how they shone like pure geomarrow crystals. The sun reflected off the snow in her hair like tiny diamonds, framing her face in a heavenly glow. But then his eyes landed on the red bruise on her forehead, shattering the idyllic dream he had momentarily found himself caught in.

"M-My apologies," he stuttered, his typically unwavering demeanor momentarily shaken, "You're injured. Please allow me to escort you to the clinic." 

"Huh? What?" She reached up to touch her head and felt warmth bloom under her fingertips, accompanied by a slight stinging sensation. Her hand came away with a faint crimson stain.

"It's just a graze, no need to worry about me," she insisted, stepping back from the Captain's hold. But it wasn't just a graze, it really hurt! And the longer she spent out of his support, the more wobbly she felt on her own feet. Sensing her instability, Gepard swiftly wrapped an arm around her shoulder, preventing her from stumbling again. His sturdy hold on her stood in stark contrast to the mushy feeling swelling within his chest.

"We should really get you to a doctor," he began, tone tinged with a hint of worry. She no longer had the strength to protest, the pounding headache alone was overwhelming enough.

They were both silent for the remainder of the walk, neither having something constructive to say to the other. When Gepard handed her over to the doctor, he disappeared without a trace. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of rudeness in his sudden departure. He didn’t even give her a chance to express her gratitude for his understanding, fearing she might have been reprimanded for lack of civility. Well, he was probably a busy man. She couldn’t expect someone of his stature to care about someone as insignificant as her, right? 

But right now, Gepard was desperate to quiet the racing of his heart. His knees felt weak, as if they were made of jelly, while he struggled to look normal and composed as he exited the clinic. But who was he kidding? The sweat on his brow and his burning ears were a dead giveaway to his current emotional state. He could only beg the Aeons that no one took notice of his stupor. What was he supposed to do again? Patrols? Yes, patrols. He needed to get back to work.

Throughout the remainder of the day, Gepard found it increasingly difficult to maintain focus on his duties. The telltale signs of his distraction did not go unnoticed by his soldiers. They observed the annoyed bounce of his leg as he hurriedly completed his paperwork, his mind clearly preoccupied. No one dared speak to the Captain, silently acknowledging the departure from his usual composed demeanor.

The soldiers, witnessing his uncharacteristic behavior and urgency behind his actions, couldn't help but speculate and gossip amongst themselves. Some would interpret his distraction as a sign of work-related stress or pressing family matters. Others would suspect something entirely different, an infatuation that had captivated their usually composed Captain. 

Without lingering a moment longer than necessary, Gepard promptly left his post and made his way to Serval’s workshop. Each step he took amplified the beating of butterfly wings in his chest, the sensation bordering on discomfort. It seemed to knock the air from his lungs whenever he tried to articulate his thoughts.

"It happened," he tells her bluntly. 

"What? What happened?" Serval shook him by the shoulders, her voice filled with urgency. "Gepard, you're gonna have to give me more than that!"

this was meant 2 be sum quick filler but i got rlly invested in it... my style feels more formal but mby tht's bc i jus finished studying. am a lil braindead, had to take a break from the hardy-weinberg equation and do smth productive. no more broad sense heritability, only geppie ♥︎

[bullet-prooflove]

Forgot that I was supposed to send you a prompt for Hamilton. How do you feel about this one?

“The first night you saw me”

Tagging: @kmc1989 @yourfellowmarzipan @toheavenwmydrms @lemmons1998 @mimi-8793

The first night Douglas meets you is at a charity event at the New Orleans Museum of Art during the unveiling of a new exhibition called Double Space: Women Photography and Surrealism. It’s part of his press officer’s drive to showcase his support of the arts.

Events like this are a chore, he spends the evening being spoken at, not spoken to by people trying to illicit funding for all sorts of things, it can get a little much sometimes, all these people wanting something from him. There’s only so much that he can give and every cause is seems so important.

When you stand to take the stage and discuss the collection, Douglas is seated on the front row. He’s enamoured almost immediately. You explain how the work by these women challenges the masculine ideals of what it is to be a muse and how they took back surrealism from André Breton after being ignored by the movement. The topic is clearly something your passionate about, he can tell from the pitch of your voice as you command the room.  

When he’s introduced to you as the curator of the museum, you’re more stunning than he realised. He expects you to be like all the others, to try to sell him on some new program or another exhibit that requires funding but you don’t. Instead you ask him what he thinks about the showcase and despite everything his PR person advises he tells you the truth.

“I don’t get it.”

You laugh then because you find his honesty refreshing.

“I could explain it to you if you like.” You offer and he takes you up on that because the alternative is him being drawn into another conversation about budgets within the parish and you are far more interesting.

Your arm loops through his and he finds himself being guided not towards the exhibition but away from it and through a door out into the sculpture garden. He inclines his head towards you in question as you lead him onto the Mississippi Meanders, a bright, colourful bridge made of tempered glass and steel. It’s gorgeous piece of art, it feels both solid and light underneath his feet as you stroll together, like lovers into the depths of the night.

“You looked like you needed a breather.” You say by way of explanation. “I know I certainly did.”

“You mean you aren’t going to explain the complexities of feminism in the surrealist era to me?” He smiles and you smile back shrugging your shoulders.

“If it’s not your thing, then it’s not your thing.” You say before you release his arm and stare out across the river instead. “I expect you’re more into expressionism, a Van Gogh fan although you would never admit it.”

His cheeks colour then because you aren’t wrong, in fact you have him pegged entirely. He’s always told people he prefers Degas because of the sobriety of the work but his true love is Van Gogh’s complexity and use of color.  

“It means you’re a dreamer.” You tell him as he joins you at the railing to study the water. “You enjoy things that evoke an emotional response, that you find creative and challenging.”

Douglas doesn’t speak, he’s too surprised because people don’t talk to him this way, they beat around the bush, they amble but you, you’re real and Douglas, he likes that, he likes that alot.

“I’m sorry.” You say mistaking his silence for offense. “I can be an acquired taste sometimes.”

“No.” He says, his voice a little rough. “You were right about all of it, it’s just…”

He struggles to find the words.

“…people don’t see those things about me. They see the mayor and that’s all. They forget that I’m a person, one that lives and breathes, who has thoughts and feelings of his own. It’s invigorating actually meeting someone that sees beyond all of that…”

He’s interrupted by the appearance of his PR rep Martha at the edge of the bridge, she taps her watch and he sighs because he wishes his time really was his own, that he could spend all night, just the two of you talking on the Mississippi Meanders.

“I have to go.” He says regretfully.

“I understand.” You say and he thinks that maybe you do, you’re jobs are similar in that respect, there’s always something that requires your attention, someone who needs your advice. You reach into your purse, pulling out your card before handing it to him. “Call me, if you want to take another walk, talk about Van Gogh.”

“I will.” He promises you as he tucks it inside the interior pocket of his suit, the one closest to his heart. “Trust me I will.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[oskea93]

✶ Whiskey (2) ✶ - John “Bucky” Egan x OC - Masters of the Air fandom - Multi-chaptered story.

⚠ Warning: Rating 18+ ⚠ Chapter warning: Sexual content, period sexism, spousal belittling, cursing Words: 4353 A/N: Hello again! First off, I just want to say thank you so much for the love and support y'all have shown this story!! You guys are amazing and you have no idea how much I appreciate you guys! So, with this chapter, we get to meet Dominik and Marigold - the husband and MIL. These two will have major impacts on our OC's life and at times their treatment towards her will not be very nice. We also get to meet the most important person in our OCs life... The bright side, we will see our OC spending time with a certain Major 🥵. This story is just getting started and I promise that Mr. Egan and all the fabulous men of the 100th will come to light in the upcoming chapter. It's gonna be a wild one! If you would like to be added to the tag list, just comment your username ☺︎

“I don’t see why you need to accompany your husband to such a location – full of men waiting for their chance to die.”

Rolling my eyes, I kept my mouth shut as my mother-in-law moved around the room. She had volunteered herself to accompany Dom and I to England – stating that she needed to be here for the sake of her granddaughter.

“What’re you expected to do while he’s working? Just longue around and make eyes with all the soldiers – give them blue balls so they can go back to their barracks and dream about you?”

A smile tugged at my face, “Somebody has to get them a little excited, Marigold.”

Her brows knitting together – unsure if I was being serious of not. “That’s what those pin-up women are for – you’re a married woman, Rachel. Married to one of the top colonels in the army – you don’t need to be strutting around like some old whore.”

Sighing, I pushed myself off the chair, her eyes watching me like the hawk she is. “Are you faithful to my son?” The question causing me to stop in my tracks. “You wouldn’t think about stepping out on him, would you?”

Her dark eyes bore into my soul, their intensity like a piercing gaze from the depths of the night. With each passing moment, I felt a shiver run down my spine, as if her gaze held the power to unravel the very core of my being. In that fleeting instant, the world around me seemed to fade away, leaving only her eyes, dark and mysterious, capturing my every thought and emotion in their enigmatic depths. “No –“My tone defensive. “Why ever would you think that?”

Feeling a mixture of frustration and resignation, she shrugged her shoulders, the weight of the moment causing her lips to press tightly together in a display of silent resolve.

“What gives you the idea that I would be unfaithful to Dominik? Because of what I said – that was a joke – they’re very popular nowadays.” Her back straightening at my bitter return.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my composure despite Mari's biting words. Our relationship had always been strained, but her sharp remarks never failed to sting.

"I understand your concern, Mari," I replied evenly, meeting her gaze. "But I'm not going to England to flirt with soldiers. I'll be there to support Dom and assist in any way I can. It's important for us to be together during his assignment."

Mari huffed, clearly not convinced. "Just be careful, Rachel. Men in uniform can be quite charming, but they're not to be trusted. Don't forget your responsibilities as a wife and a mother."

Her words echoed in my mind, stirring up a mix of frustration and resignation. I knew Mari meant well in her own way, but her traditional views often clashed with my more independent spirit.

"Again, I appreciate your concern, Mari," I said, choosing my words carefully. "I'll always prioritize my family above all else. You can trust me on that."

In that fleeting moment of our interaction, as her captivating eyes locked onto mine, a subtle yet unmistakable expression of doubt crept into her gaze. "I hope so, Rachel. You have a good husband and a beautiful daughter. Don't take that for granted."

In the intricate web of relationships that intertwined our lives, tensions simmered just below the surface, threatening to erupt at any moment. Marigold's disapproval of me seemed to stem from a place of deep-seated insecurity and a need to control the narrative surrounding her son's marriage.

From the very beginning of Dom and I’s relationship, Marigold had made it clear that she held certain expectations for the woman who would become her daughter-in-law. My lack of pedigree, my fiery red hair, and perceived lack of refinement were all points of contention for Marigold. In her eyes, I was an outsider, unworthy of her son's prestigious lineage.

The constant barrage of criticism and belittling remarks from Marigold had taken its toll on me, chipping away at my confidence and sense of self-worth. Despite my best efforts to prove her loyalty and devotion to Dominik, I found herself caught in a never-ending cycle of scrutiny and judgment.

As Marigold insinuated doubts about my fidelity and questioned my motives, I felt a surge of indignation rise within myself. The implication that I would betray Dominik, the man I loved, cut deep, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Yet, I understood that Marigold's insecurities and fears were driving her behavior, fueling her need to assert control over the situation.

The dynamics between myself and Marigold were fraught with unspoken tensions and power struggles, each woman vying for dominance in their own way. My defiance in the face of Marigold's criticisms and barbs hinted at an underlying strength and resilience that belied my outward appearance.

She lightly cleared her throat, the sound echoing in the opulent room. "Darling," she began, her voice smooth but with an underlying tension. A faint, almost imperceptible smile played on her lips, not quite reaching her eyes. "I know you would never hurt my son in such a fashion."

With deliberate grace, she slowly rose from her seat, her elegant movements betraying the subtle power she held. Her hand smoothed down the expensive fabric of her dress, erasing any hint of imperfection. "You're a very beautiful girl - woman," she remarked, her words laced with a mixture of compliment and observation.

Turning to face me fully, she continued, her gaze piercing yet enigmatic. "Those men at Thorpe Abbots haven't seen or been around a real woman in who knows how long - only the women that are working or the local townies." Her voice trailed off momentarily, her hands coming to rest gently on my arms. "It's going to be hard for them to resist you."

I regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as she pivoted back towards the chair, as if the weight of her words had dissipated as quickly as they had been spoken. I felt the urge to respond rising within me, but something in her demeanor made me hesitate, my words left unspoken.

As she settled back into her seat, a subtle yet unmistakable smugness crept into her expression, adding a layer of complexity to her otherwise composed facade. Her eyes met mine once more, a silent challenge lingering in their depths.

"Better get packing, darling," she remarked casually, the nonchalance in her tone belying the undercurrent of tension that hung in the air…

We lay in silence, the distant sounds of the bustling streets below providing a gentle background melody that filled the room. His touch, feather-light against the curve of my ribcage, sent a shiver of electricity racing through my body.

"Someone walking over your grave?" he remarked, a playful glint in his eyes as he traced patterns on my skin with his fingertips.

Resting my chin on his chest, our gazes locked in a shared moment of intimacy. "Excuse me?" I replied, a hint of curiosity in my voice.

He chuckled softly, the sound like music in the quiet room, as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from my face. "My pops used to say that when you get a cold chill, it means someone is walking on your grave." His words carried a touch of nostalgia and folklore.

Raising my eyebrows in amusement, I shook my head. "Can't say I've heard that one before."

As my left hand trailed down his chest, I noticed the cross necklace he wore, a simple yet meaningful charm that he kept close for protection. Taking the pendant between my thumb and index finger, I studied it briefly before placing it gently in the center of his chest, my fingers lingering over the cool metal.

"My mom gave it to me before I left," he explained, his voice tinged with emotion. "I'm not really a believer, but you need something to protect you out there."

Moved by his vulnerability, I began to share a piece of my own family history. "My grandmother was a God-fearing woman," I started, the memories of her devout faith flooding back. "She would attend church on Sundays and Wednesdays, unwavering in her devotion even in the face of adversity." A pang of sorrow touched my heart as tears threatened to well up in my eyes. "But when my Grandad fell ill, her faith wavered. She prayed for miracles as he lay dying, his lungs ravaged by years spent in the mines."

The weight of past grief hung heavy in the air between us, the shared stories weaving a bond of understanding and empathy that transcended words.

John's arm tightened around my waist; his unwavering attention focused on every word I spoke.

"After he passed away, she changed," I continued, a wistful smile playing on my lips as I reminisced. "She stopped praying, stopped going to church as often, stopped believing. My grandad was her entire world, her reason for everything. She used to tell my brother and me that God had led Grandad into her life." The warmth of nostalgia colored my voice as I shared the cherished memories.

"She would say that she prayed for God to send her a hard-working farm boy - one with dark hair and skilled hands." John's chest rumbled with laughter; his amusement palpable in the air between us. "And one day, it was as if he appeared out of the heavens, right at Sampson's Feed store across the street from her daddy's farm."

As I slowly rose from the bed, the sheet draped around my waist, I pulled my legs up to my chest, lost in the recollection. "She loved that man more than anything - perhaps even more than she loved God, I think."

The bed shifted as John pressed his chest against my back, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine.

"Have you ever felt that kind of love?" His whisper tickled my ear, his words laden with a depth of emotion.

Turning my head, our lips met in a soft, tender kiss, an unspoken connection weaving between us in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

"Does right now count?" I murmured between kisses, the warmth of our closeness enveloping us.

A smile played on John's lips as he pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well," he teased, gently guiding me into a lying position on the mattress, "you were certainly calling for him earlier."

We both laughed, the shared moment of levity breaking through any lingering tension. I wrapped my arms around his neck, our gazes meeting with a mix of affection and sincerity.

"You're so beautiful," He whispered, his words carrying a depth of feeling that stirred my heart.

My fingers tangled in his brown locks, finding their place at the nape of his neck. "As are you, John Egan." I replied, the unspoken bond between us growing stronger with each passing moment.

His lips met mine in a gentle manner, each light peck carrying a world of unspoken emotions, his hand tenderly caressing my cheek with a touch that spoke volumes. We lingered in that moment of quiet intimacy, the outside world fading into insignificance as we shared a silent connection that transcended words.

After a moment, he lifted himself up from the bed, leaving the sheet behind as he made his way to the curtained window. I watched as his back muscles moved beneath his skin, a silent display of tension and contemplation as he gazed out at the streets below. The sun had hidden behind the thickening clouds, casting the room into a dim twilight as the impending rain approached.

Quietly, I crawled out of the bed, the sheet slipping off my body as I closed the distance between us.

Instinctively, my arms wrapped around his mid-section, offering a comforting embrace. "Are you okay?" I whispered, pressing my lips against his back, seeking to convey my support through the simple contact of our bodies.

He let out a deep sigh, his body relaxing into my touch as his hands found their place atop mine. "You ever wonder if all of this is really worth it?" His voice held a weight of solemn reflection as he voiced the doubts that lingered in his mind. "All this killing and bombing - innocent lives lost every day, many of them unaware until it's too late." The heaviness of his words echoed the burdens he carried, the moral complexities of his actions weighing heavily on his conscience.

Listening to his inner turmoil, I felt a surge of empathy and understanding for the struggles he faced. "You can't beat yourself up about that, John," I spoke softly, offering reassurance in the face of his inner turmoil. "The choices you've made, the actions you've taken - they may be part of a larger conflict, but you have to remember the good you're fighting for, the lives you're trying to protect."

John and I barely knew one another, but even in the brief moments we shared, it was evident that the weight of war was bearing down heavily on him. His eyes, once bright with youthful vigor, now held a weariness that seemed to go beyond mere physical exhaustion. It was a weariness of the soul, a deep-seated fatigue born from the harrowing experiences he had endured on the battlefield.

"My pal Buck says the same thing," He remarked, a faint smile edging on his face as memories of their conversations flooded back. "He always told me to just worry about getting back home to Wisconsin – making sure our country and those helping us fight those German pricks win the battle – big or small."

As the rain began to drum against the windowpanes, a sense of shared vulnerability enveloped us, binding us together in a moment of shared empathy and support amidst the storm of uncertainty and doubt.

His hands fell from mine as he turned towards me, his eyes falling on my naked frame. The slightest hint of sadness could be seen in his irises. Without hesitation, I closed the gap between us, his callused hands reaching my thighs, bending down slightly as he hoisted me onto his hips. Our lips never separating, a muffled moan purred through my body as my back hit the wall next to the window. The cooling fall air that drifted in from the draft window was no match for the heat that coursed through my body as John’s touch lit a fire in and outside my body.

As our embrace deepened, the weight of the war seemed to momentarily fade away, replaced by a sense of raw connection and passion. In that fleeting moment, there was only the two of us, lost in a dance of desire and longing.

The world outside may have been engulfed in chaos and uncertainty, but within the walls of that room, time seemed to stand still. Each touch, each kiss, spoke volumes of unspoken emotions and desires. It was a moment of respite, a brief escape from the harsh realities of the outside world.

With the leverage from the wall, his hand made quick work as it moved between our bodies, his large fingers finding my clit, my hips responding as they moved against his touch.

“John, please.” My mouth latching onto his neck, an animalistic growl releasing from his body.

His paced quickened, “Tell me what you want.” His breath hot against my ear. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

My teeth biting down harder on his neck as my walls began to clench around his touch. “Goddammit, Rachel –“His words full of lust. “Tell me what you fucking want.”

The pleasure causing tears to form in my eyes, “Fuck me, John.” Out of breath. “Please just fuck me, please!” Without warning, his cock slammed into me. His lips harshly meeting mine, stifling the gasp that fell between our kiss.

The pace was fast – hard as our hips slapped against one another. His fingers digging into my sides as my nails dragged down his back, hard enough to pull away the first layer of skin.

“Harder.” I begged. “Oh God, please go harder!”

I cried out in pain as my back repeatedly hit the wall behind me – his cock swelling inside of me as we started to reach our climax.

The warm sensation soon flooded my core, the liquid rolling down my leg as his cock stayed buried inside of me. His lips peppering kisses along my collarbone as my fingers floated through his hair as we both regained our breath.

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to make it back to the base.”

“And why’s that?” His hips slowly moving again.

“Because-“The friction between our hips causing us both to groan. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”

As the soft glow of the vanity lights illuminated the room, casting a warm ambiance over the space, Dominik's footsteps echoed against the wooden floors, the sound a rhythmic accompaniment to the weight of the impending departure. His words lingered in the air, carrying with them a mixture of anticipation and melancholy.

"I spoke with Colonel Huglin over the phone today," His voice tinged with a hint of tension that belied the calm facade he tried to maintain. "It seems like everything is ready for our arrival in the morning."

I turned to face him, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. His hair, usually meticulously styled, now bore the tousled look of a man consumed by nerves and the weight of responsibility.

"My mother is going to take Charlotte back to the States once we get on the plane," Dominik continued, his words hanging between us with unspoken emotions. "I told her to stay here for a while, but she's insistent on getting out of England."

I couldn't help but inwardly roll my eyes at Marigold's insistence on whisking Charlotte away to New York. The prospect of being separated from my daughter for an unknown stretch of time tugged at my heart, the idea of her absence leaving an ache in its wake. While Dominik and Marigold argued that the military base was no place for a young girl, I couldn't shake the feeling that there were other children in the town who could keep her company.

“What time do we leave?” I asked, my voice tinged with concern.

Dominik checked his watch, furrowing his brow. “Huglin mentioned the plane will be ready at nine sharp. We need to be at the airfield no later than 8:30.”

I bit my lip, a pang of sadness washing over me. “Charlotte will still be sleeping when we leave. I can’t bear not saying goodbye to her. We don’t know how long we’ll be a part. Your mother isn’t gonna let me wake her that early.”

“Maybe it’s best we leave without saying goodbye.” Dominik suggested, his tone matter of fact.

I stood up from the vanity, feeling a surge of frustration. “You can’t be serious, Dom?”

He shrugged, his expression impassive. “You know how my mother is. She doesn’t want Charlotte upset. She’ll have to deal with a crying child when we leave.”

Dominik’s dismissal of my feelings stung. “I’ll have Mother call the base when they land in New York and you can talk to Charlotte then,” he continued, his hands moving down my arms.

Tensions crackled in the air as he towered over me. His words, though well-intentioned, felt like a cage closing in around me. “I know it’s hard to be away from the baby, but I need you with me. You’re my rock, sweetheart,” he murmured, planting a gentle kiss on my neck. “I can’t go anywhere without my special little rock.”

I felt a mix of emotions swirling inside of me – love, frustration, and a hint of resignation. Dominik’s ability to use intimacy to end arguments was both comforting and manipulative. I knew that arguing further would only lead to more tension. So, with a heavy heart, I relented, letting the moment of peace wash over us…

As I stood by Charlotte's bedside, the soft glow of the nightlight casting a warm aura over the room, memories flooded her mind. Remembering the first time I held Charlotte in her arms, the overwhelming rush of love and protectiveness that consumed my heart. It was a feeling unlike any other, a bond that transcended words and explanations.

Gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from Charlotte's face, I whispered, "Sweetheart, it's time for me to go now. But remember, mommy loves you more than anything in this world." My voice cracked with emotion as I fought back tears, hand trembling slightly as I traced the curve of her cheek.

She stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal sleepy, drowsy eyes. "Mama?" she murmured, her voice soft and filled with innocence.

My heart ached at the sight of my precious daughter looking up at me, so small and vulnerable in the dim light. "Hi, baby girl," my voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to say goodbye before I go."

She reached out a tiny hand, her fingers seeking the comfort of her mother's touch. "Don't go, Mama," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

Tears welled up in my eyes, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on Charlotte's forehead. "I have to go, darling, but I'll be back before you know it. Grandmother will take good care of you while I'm away, okay?" I reassured her, my voice filled with love and tenderness.

With a heavy heart, I tucked the covers snugly around Charlotte, tucking her in with care. Lingering for a moment, savoring the quiet peace of the room before I reluctantly turned to leave.

As I stepped out into the hallway, a familiar voice made me jump in surprise. "A little early for tears, Rachel," Mari's voice floated towards her, her figure blending into the shadows of the room.

Startled, I clutched my chest, heart racing from the unexpected encounter. "Marigold, you nearly gave me a heart attack," I gasped, trying to steady my breathing.

Mari's gaze flickered towards Charlotte's room, her expression unreadable. "Dominik told you not to wake her," she reminded in a low tone. "You know how she gets when you leave her. It wasn't a wise choice, Rachel."

Feeling a pang of guilt, I nodded silently, realizing the impact of my actions. With a heavy sigh, I prepared myself for the difficult task ahead, knowing that leaving Charlotte behind was a sacrifice I had to make for now.

I watched as she retreated into Charlotte's room, glaring daggers as she closed the door behind her, the tension between us palpable in the air. I stood there for a moment, the silence of the house buzzing in my ears like a persistent drone, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling within me. With a heavy exhale, I gathered my resolve and took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead. The faint sound of a car engine humming in the distance pulled me back to the present, prompting me to make my way towards the awaiting vehicle, each step feeling heavier than the last as I left the turbulent scene behind me.

The weather once again mimicked the mood, a common occurrence for England, with dark clouds looming overhead and a chilly wind cutting through the air. Despite the dreariness of the day, there was a certain familiarity in the gray skies and mist that enveloped the surroundings, as if nature itself was reflecting the emotional turmoil within.

My eyes met the driver's, a silent exchange of gratitude passing between us as he held the car door open, a small gesture that spoke volumes amidst the unspoken tension that lingered in the air. Dominik's body stiff beside me, his presence a palpable force in the confined space of the car.

"I told you to leave her alone, Rachel. I told you not to wake her, and of course, you never listen." Dominik's voice was low, the words carrying a weight of frustration and disappointment.

He stared out the window, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside, the rigid set of his jaw betraying his inner turmoil.

"After your little emotional moment," Dominik's voice cut through the tense silence in the car, his words laced with a hint of frustration. He paused; the weight of his gaze heavy as he turned to look at me briefly before returning his attention to the road ahead. "You better hope we're not late getting to the airfield."

His words stung, a stark reminder of the consequences of my actions and the impact they had on our plans. Guilt gnawed at me, knowing that my emotional outburst had potentially jeopardized Dominik's mission and the success of the operation ahead. The weight of his disapproval bore down on me, adding to the already heavy atmosphere in the car.

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to form a coherent response. The reality of the situation sank in, the urgency of our mission overshadowing any personal grievances or misunderstandings between us. With a deep breath, I nodded silently, understanding the gravity of the situation and the need to focus on the task at hand.

As the car started to move away, my thoughts were consumed by Charlotte. I had envisioned our trip to Thorpe Abbots with Dominik as a special event, a chance for us to bond and create lasting memories together. Dominik, poised to become the 2nd colonel in command, was about to embark on a crucial mission to take down the German forces, and I had hoped to support him in this pivotal moment of his career.

However, as the weight of our unspoken tensions and misunderstandings hung heavy in the air, I couldn't shake the feeling of missed opportunities and shattered expectations. What was meant to be a moment of triumph and unity now seemed clouded by discord and distance.

[grievedeeply]

YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN !!! could i please ask for some headcanons of Thor with a daughter whos way younger than Magni and Modi and shes just ,, a total daddies girl, she follows him everywhere, mimics him in everything he does, shes just his biggest fan lol !

i know this was sent in forever ago and i'm so sorry it took me forever to get around to... but i hope you enjoy this anyway..... reader is pictured as a child between 7-9 but it kinda jumps around a little

fem!reader (no pronouns used) | no tws

NEW TAGLIST!!

thor with a daughter who adores him headcanons

you are his absolute pride and joy. he is horrible at expressing his feelings in every way imaginable, but it's so obvious to everyone around him that he cherishes you so very much

you're actually his mini-me, and he's so proud of that. he doesn't think of himself as a good person to look up to in any sense, but you do, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his heart swell

you're so young, so innocent and kind.. but all you seem to want to do is be exactly like him. despite all of the atrocities he's committed, things he hopes you'll never find out about.. you want to be just like him

he hopes you don't find out about everything he's done. he wants you to look up to him in this way for the rest of his life. he takes it and holds onto it tight, the feeling in his heart and the warmth in his soul.. it feels so good to be loved

you have no way of knowing how much he appreciates you. you're just a child, but you show him more love than he feels he deserves. walking up to his legs, wrapping him in such a tiny hug.. he needs it. he needs to feel how you make him feel

his relationship with you definitely makes him reflect on how he needs to be better for magni, modi and thrúd as well

definitely denies having a favorite child, but everyone with common sense can EASILY tell it's you. you're never not by his side and he always gets so giddy whenever he's with you

your existence makes him better. he never thought that one person could change everything about him, but that's just the truth with you. you inspire him and you are what he fights for

he doesn't ever want you to be afraid of him, but when you get old enough to question what he's done.. he's take a really mature approach to that whole conversation. he doesn't want to lie to you, and he won't, ever. but he still wishes you never knew. he knows it'll change your view of him

back to happier things

piggy back rides— definitely a big thing for him. it's so special to him to just be able to spend time with you, and he wonders how he was able to get this lucky with you at all

your protector. having the god of thunder as your father means you have constant security— but it's only because he cares so much about you he can't bear to think of you getting hurt— so he keeps you safe himself

this need to protect you only increases at the deaths of his sons. he's terrified for your future but he tries not to think about it

you're his biggest fan, always rooting for him no matter what. you are what makes him realize he needs to stand up to his father. he isn't a punching bag, he isn't free labor, he's a real person and he deserves to be treated that way

and when you start developing powers of your own? he's over the moon, ready to train you in using those powers right from the beginning

overall, he becomes a better father and a better person through you and your outlook on the world. it's a very sweet, special thing to him <3

tags: @danielle-marie @kise-kae