#maybe by the end she'll call him his name when shes more positive about him

[pedge-page]

Swim Lessons

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: in Jackson, you find a creative way to get Joel to come to the lake to see Ellie swim.

Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, Joel calls you a slut or whore a few times, fingering, orgams denial, slight belly bulge, teasing, minor breeding kink (honestly I don't count it but maybe sorta), description of female reader body, low key perverted Joel, language, wet Joel is a warning itself.

18+ ONLY, minors DNI

- - - -

You were walking outside, planting flowers outside some of the main walkways when you had overheard the two of them through their kitchen window.

Ellie was begging Joel to teach her how to swim during their first summer at Jackson. There was a lake within the confines of the community that was open for fishing and, during the hot summer months, leisure swimming. What a luxury in the apocalypse.

"No."

"Please??"

"I said no."

"Wuss," Ellie mumbled under her breath.

Joel shot daggers at her, but he was not going to budge.

"Ain't going to no lake and getting my clothes wet just to watch you flail like a kid who can't swim."

"I AM a kid who can't swim, asshole. And you'd have to take your clothes off, duh."

Oh what a sight that would be.

Joel laughed out loud. "Even more reason I won't be there."

Joel turned around and noticed you leaning on the ground, your back turned towards him. He admired your silhouette, the little shorts and tank top covering your backside as you delicately turned over the soil and planted the bulbs. He was unaware that you could hear their conversation, but you were fully aware oh his eyes burning at the back of your skull.

Ellie noticed (she always notices--Joel can't help but make it so obvious when he's staring at you). "She'll be there too."

Joel scoffed, acting like be wasn't checking you out for three silent minutes straight. "Who?" He asks incredulously.

Ellie raised her eyebrows. "Bet she'll wear something cute."

Joel shook his head, acting uninterested. His mind was going a thousand miles a minute eying you up once again and trying NOT to think about the numerous bathing suits he could picture you In, all of which he'd be stripping you out of by the time the sun set.

You hear your name being called from the window by Ellie. You turn around and wave. Joel tries to dodge your eyes, a blush creeping on his face.

"Will you teach me to swim tomorrow at the lake?" Ellie asked.

"Of course!" You responded. "I'll be there at 3."

The next day, right at 3pm, Ellie was right on time. You were stretching along the sandy waterline, watching others kick around the shallow waters and diving into the depths. It was genuinely peaceful.

Ellie wore a full piece that ended in shorts, modestly covering her lower region. You could tell she was incredibly anxious to be standing around in such tight fitting and revealing clothes.

It pissed you that she was alone.

"He didn't come?"

"Said he would think about it. But he was going down for a nap when I left." She mumbled dejected. You watched her twirl her fingers anxiously, watching the dozens of kids and adults freely splashing around the water.

You knew having Joel here would help her confidence, knowing there was someone here who knew her more intimately. The one who taught her to shoot, hunt, and survive. But ultimately, having Joel here would give her someone to bully, and that was a huge confidence booster for the 14 year old.

"He'll come," you said, absolutely sure. "I'll go talk to him in a few minutes. Now let's just standing in the water for a bit, get you used to the temperature."

--

Joel was lying faceup on the couch, his arm propping his neck up against the armrest. He had no plans to go to the lake that day. The less he thought about you, the better off he'd be at resisting your temptations.

A fervent knock on the door startled him. Grumbling, he reluctantly got up from napping position and opened the door.

There were a million things he expected, but you standing there in the most revealing bikini, dripping wet all over his porch, fucking barefoot, was not one of them.

"Hey Joel!" You beamed. You could see his brain stop working as he stood there gawking at you like a fish out of water. "Ellie forgot her goggles so I'm just coming by to pick them up."

"Uhhhhh."

You had to suppress the smirk on your face as you pushed by him to jog upstairs to Ellies room. When you came back, making an obvious show of your breasts and ass bouncing down the stairs, you twirled the googles in your hand. "Got em!"

You made your way to the front door.

Joel still hadn't uttered a word. He was struggling to process what to say. He could be mad that you barged in without permission. Or that you were leaving water footprints all over the floorboards. But no, all that was on his mind was the way the water dripped down your wet hair, running down between the valley of your tits, your belly, cascading along your naval, between your legs. The way the bra did nothing but accentuate your supple breasts, pushing them up and together like they were tempting him. How gorgeous your legs looked with basically string over your hips, and the glistening of droplets against your skin just making you shine in the sun. The entire time he didn't even make eye contact with you, so unaware of the fact that he was staring at every inch of your body. His tongue slowly licked his parched lips. The only thing on his mind was bending you over his knee right now and beating you ass red--

"Ellie's making good progress. Shame you won't be there to see," you said, smile still genuine and sweet on your face as you went to the front door. He finally looks up to your eyes and blushes, quickly looking away.

"Yeah.... shame," he mumbles.

You wave goodbye--making even effort to have your tits sway with the movement, before hopping off towards the lake.

---

It takes all of 10 minutes for Joel to show up at the lake. You know it because Ellie, who was now doggy paddling in the shallow end, stood up and gave a low whistle. You were in the water with her, lying down to submerge your body, when you turned around. God, you wish you had a camera.

Joel stood in the sand awkwardly looking lost and out of place, beach towel in hand, flip-flops and (oh my GOD) actual shorts. You took a closer look, realizing this is the first time you've ever seen his legs (he's always wearing jeans) and notice they weren't swim trunks. They were fucking boxers. To your dismay, he was wear a short sleeves shirt, but none the less, this was most naked Joel had ever been in pubblic. And you could see the same nervous stance Ellie had when she first showed up too.

"Well aren't you pretty, you old fucker," Tommy muttered, whistling at Joel as well. He was sun bathing in his swim trunks, shirtless, with sunglasses.

Ellie bounced out of the water to come oogle Joel, making snide comments. Her attitude had improved immensely, just as you suspected.

"Yeah yeah, shut up." He groaned. "Where are your goggles?"

"What goggles?"

Joel stared at Ellie, then to you. He gave you a knowing, defeated look. You sunk down in to the water so he couldnt see your giggles. He sat down next to Tommy.

You came out, freshly soaking wet in your bikini.

Joel moved his beach towel to his lap, wrapping up towards his lower ribcage to conceal his belly, sitting there with hands by his side, legs bent, trying to hide his obvious boner from the world. Despite how much he eye fucked you earlier, he was doing his best to avoid looking at you now.

"So nice of you to come see Ellie, Joel," you teased. You sat down next to him, softly pressing your tits right against his muscle arm. The tips of his ears were bright red.

"You're supposed to take your shirt off and go swimming," Ellie said.

"M'fine right here. Ain't nobody need to see what's under here."

"Wuss," Ellie mumbled. Before Joel could tut her off, she was leaping back into the water. You and Joel were both extremely proud of the work she had made.

And yes, you could see the difference in her confidence now that Joel was here watching her. You both watched her splash some of the other kids, laughing and enjoying herself.

Without removing his gaze from Ellie, Joel leaned towards you. "You're a fucking tease, you know that?"

He hadn't noticed you had whipped the goggles out. You dropped them on to his lap, causing him to yelp as they grazed the tip of his erect dick under the towel. You snatched his glasses from his eyes and put them over your head, forcing him squint at you.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

- - - -

About two hours later, most people had gone home to enjoy a summer nap after a day at the lake. The sun was setting beyond the trees. Joel waved Tommy goodbye, leaving just him, you, and Ellie. You had fallen asleep under an umbrella (an umbrella Joel had to put over you so you didn't burn in the sun while you slept.)

He took his shirt off and slipped into the lake, encouraging Ellie to go deeper into the water, promising he'd be right next to her. You had awoken to both of them comfortably in the water together, Ellie splashing Joel and getting his fluffy hair all wet and tampered down. It made your heart swell to watch the two of them exist as they are without anyone else.

You did your job. Time to go home.

You had started rolling up your towel when Joel's wet hand reached out and grabbed you. You turned around and saw him dripping wet, finally shirtless. Fuck he was even more imposing with less clothing. His soft belly did nothing to lessen his broad shoulders and strong built. Your eyes drifted down to his boxers, now clinging to his muscle thighs and hips and the outline of his big fucking c---

Joel smirked to himself, seeing the blush creep on your face. He realized how the reversal of your roles from earlier still garnered the same reaction.

"Thanks again for coming to teach Ellie to swim," you piped, hoping it wasn't obvious the effect his body had on you for a change.

"You were the one teaching her most of it. Just came to watch."

"Me or Ellie?" You smirked.

Joel rolled his eyes. He would never admit that the main reason he came was to watch you strut around in that pathetic excuse of a bikini for hours. Once you had given him a taste at his front door and left, he botled upstairs, dug through his clothes, searching for swim trunks. He didn't want to see too out of the ordinary when he showed up to eye fuck you for the rest of the evening. Not having a single pair of swim shorts wasn't going to stop him from seeing you in your glory.

He glanced back down to your breasts (now realizing you were pushing your arms together to accentuate their plumpness right at him), licking his lips. Seductively bringing his darkened gaze back to you, you felt your pussy throb with need.

He clearbed his throat. "Well, I was wonderin' if you wanted to--"

Before he could finish, Ellie had slapped a hand on Joel's back, barging in the conversation. "I am soooo pruney! Anyway, thanks for teaching me to swim!" She wrapped Joel's towel around his shoulders.

You and Joel both say at the same time "You're welcome."

Ellie took one look at the pair of you before loudly announcing, "Im going to Dina's tonight. Bye!" Before running off.

And then there were two.

You shuffled awkwardly, avoiding his eyes by playing with the sand below your feet. "You were saying? Wondering if I wanted to ... get swim lessons from you too?"

"Ha. No. Sure you're a fantastic swimmer. No. Wonderin' if you wanted to come to my place tonight."

"Oh? What for?" You teased.

He leaned closer, his fingers dragging your chin so you stare up as he pressed his wet body against yours. He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth before answering: "'Cause I'm not fucking you in some nasty lake."

You gulp, never expecting him to he so forward. For once, he had you speechless while he enjoyed your freezed reaction.

You two had barely made it through his front door before he was shoving his lips on yours, moaning into the kiss. Your lips were dry from the hours in the sun and water, but he was so thirsty for a taste of you that he couldn't care in the slightest.

"Teasin me all day with this fuckin bikini," he groaned, pulling the thin string that held your bilinki top together from the back. The top fell right off, his hands immediately replacing them to rub your breasts. "Knew these tits would be gorgeous," he moaned into your mouth, making you shiver. You closed your lips around his again, feeling his hands travel down your back till they reached your ass, giving a firm squeeze. "Can't believe you went out wearing a fucking thong and calling it a bathing suit."

"This IS a bathing suit," you laughed, licking his bottom pouty lip. "Least I didnt wear actual underwear."

He bit your earlobe, pressing you against the wall. "Gave you something to think about, didn't it?" His fingers were pushing your bottoms aside and rubbing along your soaked folds. You keened into his mouth, eyes closing with head thrown back. You could feel his hot breath on your face. "Fuckin knew you'd be soaked. Not just talkin about the water. Drenched cunt just from lookin at me, huh? Filthy slut."

Holy FUCK he had a mouth, and you couldn't help but feel more aroused from his words.

He continued to stroke your clit with his thumb, two fingers seaking your hole and plunging in at once. "Oh, fuck, Joel!"

He propped his knee between your legs, preventing you from closing them. He let you grind your pussy against his palm while he worked both fingers fast, curling, pulling then pushing in fast rythm, hitting your g spot with deadly precision.

"You like this?"

"Ah huh!"

"Say it."

"I like it! Oh J--m' gonna cum!"

Joel immediately withdrew his fingers, making you whine at the emptiness. "What the f--"

"Teachin everybody some lessons today." He kissed each cheek. "You're gonna learn not to tease me like that."

He continued to press his lips all over you you, refusing to put his fingers back on your aching clit. He resorted to grinding his wet bulge against your mound. You gasped at the sheer size of him, desperately needing that thing inside you.

Between kisses, you had gripped his hair which had now started to curl again around the roots. You managed to say, "Shower."

Joel scooped you up bridal style and carried you up the stairs. He placed you down in the bathroom slapping your ass.

"Take that rudiculous thing off," he ordered, nodding to your bikini bottom while he stripped off his own wet clothes off.

Your thighs clenched at the sight of his erect dick bouncing up to his soft tummy, standing tall, dripping a healthy amount of precum. It was flush red, angry at the tip, pulsing towards you. "See what ya do to me?" He wrapped a thick hand around the shaft, pumping it slowly while watching you. "Been like this all day cuz of you."

Your eyes never left it as you stepped backwards into the shower. He followed you in, shutting the curtains behind him.

While you turned on the shower and adjusted the heat, you could feel his lips met the back of your neck, slowly trailing down your shoulders and back up your spine. His stiff cock pressed between your silky thighs, rutting against your ass each time with desperate thrusts. You could feel your cunt aching at his earlier denial of your orgasm. You sigh heavily once the heat sprays you both. "Should get clean first before our mouths get too busy."

Joel nodded. You had lathered each other up, taking extra care to slick up his dick while he rubbed suds all over your ass, tits, and folds. He grunted, smiling when you would twist your wrist at the tip before fisting his cock repeatedly.

"Beautiful," he whispered against your lips.

His hand crept lower to your ass then down one thigh, hosting it up and around his hip as he drove your back against the slick wall. His other hand notched his cock at your entrance, teasing it.

"Gonna be a good girl and take this, yes?"

You bit your lip, avoiding his eyes. Of course you wanted to take that big fucker, ride his dick until morning. But you wanted to see how far he'd go just to "teach you a lesson."

Joel didn't like your lack of response. You felt a bot hand wrap around your throat, straitening you up. He pressed his face so close, his nose pushing against your cheek.

"SAY IT."

"'m gonna be a good girl, take your cock," you pleaded, unable to put up a farsce anymore. You smirked, and God, you were gonna be the death of him.

Joel impaled you on his full length in one thrust. You gasped, head slamming against the tile. "Ow!"

Joel's hand gently cupped the back of your head, rubbing the ache. "You okay?" He asked. He stayed still inside you.

You were so overwhelmed with how full you felt, how he just throbbed against your walls, that the pain in your head subsided quickly with his soft touch. "Just fuck me, pretty boy," you moaned.

He brought his lips to yours before beginning his assault, bringing both legs around his waist as he fucked you against the wall.

You had noticed it earlier when he emerged from the water with Ellie. How he'd run his hands in his wet hair, the wait it plastered smoothly against his head. It made him look both younger and older all at once. Mature and aloof, bold and serious, yet tender and like a playboy. It made you realize just how badly you wanted to be in this position right now, his cock ramming against your cervix, taking you like you were his.

"Little pussy so fucking tight, baby," he growled against your chest. "Fucking made to take my cock, ain't that right?"

You nodded again, whimpers and little shootings being the only sounds that could escape you.

As the water washed away the suds from your body, Joel took the opportunity to suck one breast in his mouth, biting your nipple. You dragged your hands into his hair, clenching tightly, wanting less, wanting more, wanting him.

His lower belly was grinding perfectly against your clit, your climax finding you quickly. "Joel," you warned.

"Go ahead, baby. You earned it. Cum on my cock."

And you were, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as you cum, cum and cum, pent up from not just today but from the weeks and weeks you had been teasing, trying, testing Joel, just to get you here. You smiled sadistically, still on cloud nine, rubbing your pussy against him.

Joel glances down at the sight of his cock disappearing into your warm heat. "Ooohh f-fuck baby. Look at that."

You looked down with him, watching a slight bulge appear and disappearing against your lower tummy with each puncture of his cock deep inside you. He pressed a palm flat against it, your walls clamping down on his dick even harder. "So big, Joel. Fills me up so good."

"Yeah? Been thinking about this cock filling you forever, haven't you? Doing whatever to get me to fuck you. M gonna give it to you, sweet pea. Every fucking day. Every night. Just keep those legs spread f'me, ya hear?"

"Yes yes yes yes, oh God yes, Joel!" You could already feel a second orgasm building inside you. You leaned back further into the wall, leveraging yourself to help bounce on his cock with each thrust.

"Little whore. Fucking yourself on my cock like that. Gotta ride my dick like this later tonight, okay? Ain't gonna last much now. Been needing you too much." He was grunting into your shoulder now, letting out needy groans as he neared his end. "Where do ya want?"

You shouldnt. Should be smart about this. Especially your first time with him. Especially in the apocalypse. Especially without any protection. But Your body had a mind of its own now, that familiar feeling climbing higher and higher deep inside you. Your ankles hitch around his back, caging him against you, reducing him to shallow, deep thrusts inside.

Joel could feel your tight draw to him. He smiled against your neck, thrusts picking up pace. "Tell me. Need to hear ya say it."

You gripped his hair again, making him moan, yanking him back to look you in the eyes. "Want your cum inside me, Joel Miller."

He drove his hips into yours like a mad man, fucking himself as deep as possible, teeth gritting, never once breaking eye contact, and then suddenly the both of you were seizing up, eyebrows scrunched together, mouths agape but pressed together as your orgasms washed over you. You could feel hot ropes of his cum pump deep inside, one, two, threefourfive--six healthy strings of pulses, emptying his load into your womb.

You both panted loudly, the only other sounds being the steady cascade of water down the drain. Joel peppered your lips in light kisses as you both came down from your highs. You could hardly form your lips to return the kisses, instead now realizing just how light headed you were feeling after the best cum of your life. Joel felt your legs loosen, barely catching yourself, as his cock slipped from your embrace. Strong arms didn't let go of you, watching as your eyes close, blissfully, your skin hot from the water.

He turned off the water and carried you to the bed, gently lying you down. He dried you up with a towel, with extra care against your battered pussy. Copious amounts of his cum was leaking, and he had to restrain himself from putting his hot tongue between your legs to clean you up, enjoy the taste of both of your mixed cum bit more. No, you were half passed out, skin aflamed from the hot shower. You needed tending.

He disappeared from the room for a moment, naked wet ass and all, before reappearing with a bottle.

"Need to start hydrating more if you're gonna be out in the sun all day, lady." He helped tilt your head up so you could take gulps of much needed water. You broke away to breath heavily, some water slipping down your chest. Joel didn't hesitate to drag his tongue up your skin, sucking the water off. You smiled dreamily.

"That's what you're here for."

- - - -

You napped, fucked again, ate, sucked his cock, then he ate you out, fell asleep, and then woke up with his cock buried inside you again.

The next morning, Joel got an angry Maria banging on his door, cussing him out for using too much water for your extra long shower yesterday, causing a shortage of heat and fresh running water for the surrounding 6 homes.

[mi-co-uk]

love me not

loner!reader x needy!chris

WARNINGS: use of y/n, language, erm very vague implication of getting a boner lmao. the series itself will contain smut fluff and angst ⋆𐙚

p.s the grammar is wrong but I like it that way coz it feels like a diary entry but if it's distracting I can change it :3

pls enjoy <3

MASTERLIST

prev parts: INTRO

CHAPTER 1 || moon song

CHRIS' POV

"hi," she speaks softly, my entire body relaxing just from the sound of her voice.

holy fuck.

|| EARLIER ||

READER POV

the drive up to chris' house was the most anxiety inducing yet. it's been the longest gap of seeing him since we met - a month of not seeing him in person or even texting. he knows I'm alive. he's parked outside my house every few nights, peering out his car window into my house - the dark outside making me visible through the net curtains.

of course I feel bad. it's not his fault at all. I think the fact I quit my job at the café and began working on my art from home, meant that my fear of the outside got even worse. I don't ever need to leave the house - chris and his brothers are essentially my only friends, my family all off in a different state so only they have to deal with it.

I know matt understands it. that's why I'm more likely to pick up his calls or see him. Nick is happy to just text me which I find a little easier. chris is just - chris. he's full of love but his love language involves being around people all the time, so it's harder for him to understand how he can be my favourite person but also one of the most overwhelming to be around. I have little energy which extremely contrasts me to him - sometimes he makes me feel like a bad person. what kind of friend am I if I struggle to be around them?

the idea of acting stupid make me wants to curl into a ball a sob while chris sees it as his favourite activity - mainly because it makes me laugh. I love who he is, I just want him to always see me in a positive light, which I could completely shatter if I do something awkward in person.

I park on the street outside their house. hesitant to even turn off the engine.

CHRIS' POV

I have my notifications set with a different alert sound for y/n to everyone else. the sound of it becoming a distant memory every day. I was contemplating driving over - maybe knocking on the door this time. the situation doesn't make me mad, just irritated. I'm used to matt staying home while me and nick go out, so to a certain extent I get it. it just felt as bad as a punch in the face when I saw her hanging out with matt after a week of not seeing me - even though I'd invited her out and she told me she was busy. that was the last time I saw her. I think i must've overreacted - not that I'd admit it to anyone's face.

apart from hers if she asked me to.

ive been pathetic even to the point of staring at photos of her. its insane to me that she can be so perfect, despite her anxieties of the outside world. a part of me is confused on why seeing her pictures is enough satisy my hyperactive brain for hours on end. and a more specific part of me enjoys seeing her pictures a little too much.

the hardest part about her being gone is knowing she'll come back. I get so worked up because she's just not here - but I know she just takes a little time. and that's okay- I guess I just wish I could be the exception. but it turns out matt is.

I get restless nights, headaches and a loss of appetite when she's gone for more than a couple weeks. it's hard to process that without a doubt - seeing her at all, just hearing from her puts me in such a deep state of bliss that I don't even care that she was gone for so long. I just want her here. I need her.

my train of thought is interrupted by an alert on my phone - her alert. I hesitate, thinking I'd imagined it. I hear it a second time and immediately scramble to my bedside table and look at my notifications. as soon as I see her contact name, I open up the chat.

- can I come over?

- im really sorry

my head is whirling around with different thoughts. some of me is irritated that it took this long, mixed with the fact that i was at her house only 6 hours ago, but most of me is desperate just to see her. but I don't want her to know just how desperate I am - I don't want to freak her out.

- doors open

is that too casual? shit.

- I have snacks and stuff but we can do whatever

I sound like a fucking idiot. a couple seconds later (which feel like endless minutes) and she's read the messages. I don't expect her to reply but she somewhat does.

- okay im on my way

I breathe a sigh of relief at the fact she's coming over. then I run to the bathroom at the fact she's coming over. she's about a 20 minute drive away so I have about 25 minutes till she arrives at a push. I try and fix my hair which ends up being a pointless battle. I try and regain focus - tugging off my clothes to get in the shower quickly. my brothers would mock me, which is definitely valid, but I have to look my best. luckily, I shaved this morning when I thought I could convince her to meet up. after the shower, I quickly put on better clothes (ones she said i looked good in - probably a year ago now), fixing my hair a bit more in front of the mirror.

I check the time - it's been 25 minutes. she'll be here in a second. shit shit shit. I sit on the edge of my bed trying to calm my nerves and come up with a game plan for acting normal and not like the down-bad idiot that I have been for the entire month she's been gone.

I decide to let nick and matt know that she's coming over - hopefully preventing possible further embarrassment. I get to nicks door but I can hear his white noise from outside so I know he's already asleep. I head back downstairs to go to matts room. I breathe again - desperate not to sound as nervous as I am, before knocking on his door.

"come in!" I hear matt yell over the sound of his PC.

I push open the door working probably too hard to relax my face.

"um, y/n's coming over by the way" he stares at me with a look of surprise. "I just wanted to let you know."

"y' serious?"

"obviously matt I'm fucking serious. just-" I gesture around with my hands - lost for words. "just fuck off. I don't wanna fuck this up and you'd make that really fucking difficult."

"alright alright - fuck this, fuck that, i get it. watch your mouth and get out, kid." I scoff and shut the door on him.

I peer my eyes over to the staircase and she's stood there looking at me, as perfect as ever.

"hi," she speaks softly, my entire body relaxing just from the sound of her voice.

holy fuck.

next part ->

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

a/n lowkey but also not lowkey who wants a chapter of chris jerking it to the thought of loner!reader coz I DO. I know there wasn't much plot in this one but I'm setting the sceneee and we'll be getting to the good stuff soon - possibly next chapter wink wink . feel free to send ideas and ask me questionssss I'm also up for criticism coz I'm still learning how to write <3

taglist: @pair-of-pantaloons @oopsiedaisydeer @corspebridedelrey @faiyaz555

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ - mi

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

All I Ever Wanted, All I Ever Needed

Pairing: Homelander x Supe!Reader

Warnings: siblingxsibling implications, Homelander being such a narcissist that he falls in "love" with his own sibling, Homelander being a stalker, innocent reader, naive reader, Homelander being a basic menace, first time writing for this fandom, also experimenting a new writing style

Words: 5688

Summary: Along with the existence of Ryan, there was another secret being kept from Homelander that he manages to rip out of Vogelbaum's throat: he has a sister.

Part 2 Part 3

The house was quaint, way too fucking perfect in Homelander's opinion. Just like all the other mansions on the block. When he went back to Vogelbaum to find out the REAL truth about Becca, he'd forced Jonah to tell him anymore lies that were being kept from him. He hadn't anticipated there being a second secret: Homlander has a sister. Rare to be caught speechless, he leaves Vogelbaum's massive mansion. What else was Vought hiding from him? Not just Vought, but Madelyn as well. She'd lied to Homelander before. Now he'd take things into his own control.

From the slip of information Vogelbaum wheezed out , Homelander remembers the address. Stares at the numbers in front of the house that matches what Johan said. Architecture reeks of wealth. He didn't have to peek into the large bay windows to know that each corner dripped with elegance as was appropriate for a big time Vought executive. You were granted an entirely different life than what Homelander suffered from. Raised with loving parents who encouraged you to cultivate your powers in a positive way. Dinner was a sit down affair where everyone discussed highlights of the day. An authentic family unit. After discovering the truth of both you and Becca, he raided the archives for more information about her. Birth records, school reports, personal notes of progress from the adopted parents. Doted on. If only he had knowledge of you sooner. Homelander missed out on having a genuine bond to someone. A person he could truly call his own.

Superhuman eyes detect multiple people in the house. No worries. Once he presents himself, they won't deny him anything. Unless they want to end up like Stillwell and many others.

Insurmountable confidence has his gloved hand wrapping knuckles against the wood of the front door. He clasps his hands behind his back and waits. Scattering voices whisper amongst the other before feet lumber down several steps of stairs. A moment passes before the locks on the doors click open to reveal the stereotypcial dowdy housemaid. What a cliche.

Her eyes damn near pop out of her head, her mouth pulling into an ecstatic smile. Good, didn't look like there'd be much resistance. He didn't even get a chance to open his mouth before the maid pulls him in. "Oh she'll be SO delighted to see you Homlander! Please- wait here while I get her!" She frantically calls up the stairs, using the name he knew belonged to you, his sister. A sudden pang of warmth pleasantly grips him at the knowledge that you were already a fan of him. Maybe even admired Homelander. That makes him stand a bit taller.

At the top of the stairs, there you stood. You didn't believe in Diane when she told you the Homelander was at the front door. Even as you stare at him with your own striking cornflower blue eyes, your mind melts and you still don't believe what you see before you; that he's there in the flesh until his grin broadens. A brush stroke of awestruck sweeps across his expression.

Homelander found you absolutely perfect. And the smile that broke out on your own face took his breath away. An authentic smile of his own graces his facial muscles. You were a vision before him. Utter helplessness renders speech useless as he simply stares right into you. There must be a blush on your face, how could there not be one when he's staring so intently at you. He was bigger and better in real life. A wider range of emotions more available on his face opposed to the mask you saw him wear sometimes on screen. Stiff and uncomfortable. This one was even more appealing. His smile made his blue eyes crinkle with delight.

"Wow." You breathe out and feel Diane eagerly bounce behind you. "It's really you!" As fast as your mouth could go, you introduce yourself and Diane despite Homelander already knowing your name, birthdate and social security number. Whatever information he could get on you. Not even in his imagination could he truly conjure you up though.

Bringing him to the drawing room with a small tug on his gloved hands, you beam at him and say that your mom would be so excited to meet him. The light of your face makes his heart melt, something he long believed he didn't possess.

Seated already on a cream colored couch was your mom. She drops her cup and saucer, letting it shatter against the ground. Eyes incredulously wide but not with enthusiasm like you assume they'd be. Your grin drops a bit when you realize she's scared. Of what? Certainly not Homelander. Couldn't be. She'd been perfectly fine when you passed by the sitting room a few moments before heading upstairs.

Immediately the maid scrambles to clean up the mess, chirping apologies as she gathers the pieces up in her apron before scuttling away to dispose of the broken porcelain pieces.

"Homelander," your mom's voice came out as a squeak. "What a surprise to see you." She blinks out of nervousness.

"Thought I would treat Vought's wonderful executive crew with a surprise visit!" Businessman smile activated, Homelander goes on with some well rehearsed corporate bull crap spiel about how Vought appreciated all of their wonderful workers. He could practically lap at the fear emanating from your mom as she sat tightlipped against frilly decorative throw pillows. That could only mean she was in on the secret too and knew who you really were. Most importantly why he was there. She must have known that when he eventually found out, he would come.

Your mom's smile is frigid as her hand is clamped down on your forearm. "What an honor, thank you Homelander." You could tell she wanted him gone. With your own incredible olfactory receptors, you could smell her sweat too.

Hands behind his back in his usual resting stance, Homelander admits "I do have another reason for coming here too." Boots squeak as he takes just one simple step closer that has your mom's nails digging into you. It didn't hurt you but from her white knuckles she was definitely using all her strength. "A little bird told me you're special, like me."

Admittedly you beam with pride when he spoke of you being special like him. When your powers start to grow you were thrilled to find out that you had the exact powers that Homelander, the greatest superhero in the world!

Coyly and not wanting to come off as arrogant, you flutter your gaze down to your lap. "Well, I'm still nowhere near your league." Just to show off a little, you make your eyes sizzle red with heat vision that Homelander also possessed. His smile widens at your display of superability.

"How would you like to train at Vought with the Seven? You'll have the best of the best as your teachers."

He'd said it so easily you didn't take him seriously the first time. Blinking at him until it dawned on you. "R-Really?"

"Honey, this is all very sudden. Lets wait for your father to come home." She attempts to placate you but now all you can think about is the possibility of training alongside the rest of the Seven. Immediately you want to remind her that you were an adult and could take up this offer with or without your father's permission.

You don't have to because Homelander smoothly lies to her face. "Oh, no need to worry about that. Your husband already gave the go ahead!"

Her brows scrunch in a disbelieving frown. "He did?" She couldn't out right accuse the Homelander of lying.

"Of course! He was ecstatic at the opportunity his little girl would have." His tone is syrupy sweet. He couldn't show how annoyed he was with your mom. If he had informed the patriarch of your family, he doubts the man would have objected. Not to Homelander at least. They could go crying to Stand Edger for all he cared. Vought's CEO was just as powerless in stopping him once he has his mind set on something. Try as they might. Madelyn Stillwell came close to being able to manipulate him, but he'd melted her face off days prior so there was no use in Edger wielding her as a weapon.

Now you're the one clawing at your mom's arm. "Did you hear that! He said I could go! I gotta pack!" Hopping to your feet, in the blink of an eye you're dashing out of the living room and up the stairs before your mom could stutter out another word. It was just her and Homelander now with the occasional house help peeking into the living room to catch a glimpse of the glorious leader of the Seven. Visibly she swallows thickly, her eyes stare at Homelander with unrelenting fear.

"What? Did you really expect me not to find out?" Cheery smile not leaving his face, his voice reveals the sneer that he so wished to deliver to her. As it was he was keeping his voice down in case you had superhearing like he did.

The rims of her eyes glisten with unshed tears. She had to be the same age Madelyn was before he killed her. "I-I thought we had more time. Please don't take her. Please. You can come see her as much as you want. You have that right as her b-brother. But please- leave her with us." Practically gasping as she keeps her panic in control. Lines around her lips tremble. Homelander takes in her pathetic form.

"Tell me, do you love her?"

That makes her tears roll freely down her face. "I do. We do. She's a good girl. S-She wants to be a superhero, wants to protect people and use her powers for good. Please don't take her!"

Homelander snaps. "Quit your fucking blubbering."

Her mouth instantly zips shut, knowing what he did to Stillwell. Her husband had warned her early on about the real Homelander. He wasn't the perfect hero that the media painted him as. Even if you were upstairs, he wouldn't hesitate to come back and kill her. He's paused for a moment, listening to the pitter patter of your feet above. Happy that you were still busy and not paying attention to what was going on downstairs.

False saccharine face goes back up. "There's no reason for tears. You've done your job. Said so yourself that she's a good girl. She's a young adult though and doesn't need her mommy and daddy poking around in her business. Not to mention the big secret you and your husband are keeping from her."

Leaning over her, he sinisterly utters under his breath "She's coming with me. Now put a smile on your face and fucking wipe your goddamn eyes. You look disgusting. She's coming down the stairs."

Easily toting a giant backpack and two overstuffed duffle bags, you stride back into the living room. To Homelander's surprise, another duffle bag was floating behind you. Apparently you had telekinesis too. Your smile is so big that it was starting to hurt your face. This was the chance of a lifetime. You'd been getting bored stuck at home as of late.

Eagerly clenching the straps of your two duffle bags in your hands, you beam expectantly at your mom. "Sorry about dad not being here to see me off, but I'll see him around at Vought!" You go in to hug your stunned mom and promise to call her when you arrive at the tower.

Homelander is tickled pink by your enthusiasm and haul your bags out to the front porch. "Can you fly?"

You grin deviously and give your mom one last wave goodbye. Homelander takes the duffles out of your hands even though you were fully capable of carrying possibly even more luggage. What a gentleman. Something guys your age weren't.

He takes off first into the sky with you following, hot on his tail.

Never had you experienced this level of elation. You have someone to fly with! The feeling was the same for Homelander. He'd boost his speed and you caught up with him in seconds. Laughing the entire time. It makes him giddy and laughs along with you.

Twin flames.

Finally, Homelander was getting what he's wanted since he was a young boy.

You were a streak of gold as you zoom past him cheekily. For a moment he forgets that you're his sister. He's overwhelmed by the sudden warming in his chest that bleeds to his face as he watches you zip in the open air with your arms wide open to embrace the wind itself. To him you were beautiful in every single way. A perfect specimen. An outright desirous scream in his head confounds him. He didn't have a regular up bringing, but Homelander knew that this was not a common reaction to have with blood kin.

Expertly he tucks that thought away. He'd examine it later. Right now, he needed to focus on catching up with you.

He had to take the lead anyway since he was the only one who could find Vought Tower so high up in the sky and miles away. Below you, the city looks like a toy replica by how small it was as you follow Homelander's lead in the sky. You'd never seen anything quite like it. Where you'd lived was a quiet suburb. You didn't go to a public or private school but taught at home by the best instructors your parents could buy. They tend to keep you away from big cities, claiming your buddening powers as a liability if something bad were to happen. When they brought up things like that, it made you scared to even try using them. But watching Homelander's Vought produced movies gave you the courage to start playing with your abilities and push your limits; even if it meant that you subsequently knocked down the large tree in your backyard and landing it on the side of the house. That was the first time your dad had ever yelled at you.

From seeing it on the news many times, you notice the tall, silver column as Vought Tower. Homelander slows down as you had been too busy with sight seeing, but he didn't mind. He thought you were adorable, basically a little kid at Voughtland. So easily excited about everything new. That just reaffirms his suspicion that your parents had locked you up in an oppressive cage. Just like Becca did with Ryan. Really, Homelander was doing you a favor by setting you free and into his secure and guiding hands.

Both of you easily land on the roof of the tower, a door at the ready for them to enter the structure itself. You gaze out from the roof, enjoying the noise of the city and the pure energy that buzzed through it. That morning seemed so long ago. A basic start to your day, just like any other morning for the boring, safe life your parents smothered you with.

Your excitement makes your features glow, even blinding Homelander who couldn't keep his eyes off of you. You were utterly intriguing to him. An entirely different species. Both of you were so much alike yet due to your upbringing near solar opposites at the same time. Finally when you turn away from observing gaze and look to Homelander, he opens the door for you. In more ways than one. He takes you from the rooftop and into the thrum of the tower. You can't help staring at everything you walk by. All the while he goes on to promise you a room as soon as he could find-

"Ashley! There you are!" He calls out to a jumpy red head who looks both relieved and incredibly stressed out once she spots you next to him. Her lips smack against one another, flailing for useful words, her eyes round and staring at you. "We need to get a room set up for our new friend here." Homelander introduces you and you hold out a hand for Ashley to shake. Fumbling with her tablet, a sweaty hand weakly reaches out for a fast shake.

"Nice to meet you. Homelander, can I have a word with you?" Ashley hesitantly asks, forcing a fake smile and much like your mom had Ashley reeked of fear.

Homelander quickly catches your dampening smile and puts a hand on your shoulder to steer you past her. "Not now, Ashley. I have to show her around the rest of the tower. Especially the Seven's very own conference room." That brings the enthusiasm back onto your lips. While he can still hear Ashley's frantic voice trying to get him to come back he could care less. Besides, you didn't appear too affected by bumping into her, the prospect of seeing the Seven's personal conference room had you instantly forgetting the nervous red head.

A large window that spans from wall to wall has the perfect picture of the metropolis skyline in its massive frame. This felt like a perspective only the elite were privlidged enough to gaze from.

Focal point of the room though was the massive circular table, meticulously crafted with dark marble and metal. A symbol of the Seven's authority. It gleams liquid night. At the head of the table was one lone chair, away from the others. Homelander's chair. This is where he got to work every day with the greatest superheroes the country has to offer.

Watching you glide to his chair, Homelander smirks to himself. You catch it when you glance up at him with brilliant moon eyes. The brightness from the world outside casts a brilliant light around you. "I can't believe I'm in Homelander's seat!"

He chuckles and slowly trails over to you. His gloved fingers trail along the tops of the other chairs in a near gentle caress. "It suits you."

You avert your gaze from those fingers, suddenly feeling a flush crawl up your neck. "Is this really happening?" You incredulously peer at him. Your own hands glide along the table's surface. "This morning I was eating breakfast in our dining room, now I'm here with the greatest hero of all time." Brows scrunch together. Besides having powers, your life had been mundane. You'd never even been to Vought Tower where your dad had worked for a good thirty years. Things like this don't happen in a span of four hours. Insane. And it was all thanks to Homelander who saw potential in you.

"You'll get used to it. It's a lot at first." He acknowledged. Homelander wonders if Ashely has procured a room for you yet and has half the mind to call her until the conference room doors open. You throw yourself out of his chair, afraid how it would be perceived by his colleagues. Gasping when you find out it's Starlight and Queen Maeve. They appeared to be in a deep conversation. But once they register you and Homelander, whatever they'd been discussing becomes secondary. How could it not when you had similar characteristics with the man standing next to you. You weren't anyone they've met before. Nor were you a sponsoring celebrity or executive. So what were you doing there all of places?

"Impeccable timing!" He merely claps his hands together. "The two most perfect heroes to welcome you to the Tower." Starlight can't resist lookng at you with concern, wondering if you were in distress despite the smile plastered on your face. When there's no obvious sign of you being uncomfortable, Starlight strains to conjure the semblance of an easy going smile. Homelander told them that you were their new hero-in-training. Neither Queen Maeve or Starlight have ever heard of this position, it hadn't existed but once it leaves their leader's mouth, it might as well have been law. Maeve knew to tread carefully with her words.

Her own mask was honed after years of dealing with his psychopathy and Maeve dawned it on herself with ease. "Wonderful news." She turns to you, statuesque and beautiful. "Welcome. If Homelander speaks so highly of you, then I'm sure you'll find your footing around here."

"I'm excited to learn from both of you and I'll make sure not to get in the way." You promise which cracks a sympathetic smile from Starlight. From your appearance, Starlight deduces that you had to be a year or two younger than her and understood how it felt to abruptly be thrust into the life of the Seven.

Homelander clears his throat and offers you his arm. "Lets go see if Ashley's got that room ready for you. I'm sure you want to settle down."

Before leaving, Homelander sends both women a pointed glare over his shoulder as the doors close behind his red, white and blue cape.

Stunned, Starlight turns to Maeve knowing nothing good would come of this new installment of Vought. Neither had seen nor heard of you. You seemed relatively innocent and ignorant of the danger you were in so close to Homelander.

Maeve shrugs, indifference cloaking how she really felt. "Not our problem."

Starlight's eyes round in disbelief. "Sounds like its going to be a problem sooner or later. Something's up. He doesn't just show interest in random strangers. Even if they're supes too."

Chewing on the inside of her mouth, Maeve is aware of the terrible possibility that this could all end badly for you. Having Homelander's attention did more harm than good. If they wanted any chance of intervening, they'd have to be extremely careful. Homelander may be an egotistical man, but he wasn't a dumb man. He'd catch on immediately if either Starlight or Maeve slip in their investigation toward who you are.

"All we can do is keep an eye out for her and guide her." Maeve murmurs, worried that Homelander may still be listening. Such was the paranoia that she'd developed from all the years they worked together. It was upsetting that her relationship with HOmelander outlasts any other, even Elena. They'd known one another for years. The manner that Homelander hovered around you though was disconcerting. If intervention were needed, there was no way Homelander would let anyone near you.

Starlight grits down on her back molars as she moves around Maeve and out of the conference room. But she couldn't just keep an eye on you. Her feet take her to Ashley's office although her brain was reminding her that the VP of Hero Management would most likely not be there.

After finally hounding down Ashley, you're shown your new room in Vought with a promise from Homelander that you could redecorate it all if you like. All the while it's impossible to ignore the heavy smell of fear from her.

Homelander couldn't pretend not to notice either as his mouth, still holding onto a smile, becomes tight with force. "Thank you Ashley, that will be all."

For not being a supe, she gave A-Train a run for his money as Ashley booked it out of there in the blink of an eye.

"I'll make sure everything else is taken care of and given to you as soon as possible. For now though, relax. I'll put together a team dinner tonight so you can meet everyone else." The face he'd had with Ashley was washed away now replaced with genuine plesantaness.

You examine what was more than a simple room, this was a penthouse apartment. Bigger than the room you had back home with actual marble columns that stand proudly from floor to ceiling. A similar expansive window like that of the conference room greets the city outside with a glittery afternoon effect. Gold and amber filter the sky. Lost in the gleam of it all, you float around; eyes big in wonder. You lived in luxury before, but now your surroundings were damn near extravagant. This was an entire level up from your usual lifestyle.

Barely managing to breathe out an 'okay', you hear the front door open then close.

Still reeling, you place your backpack along with your other luggage at the foyer and let yourself wander. The call to your mom could wait. This moment was for you. You felt seen.

You would be a hero like Homelander. Maybe never as great as him, but some day you could achieve his caliber. This was really happening.

Homelander never imagined his day would have turned into something like this either. His miles hasn't left since leaving your room as he strolls through the halls to make sure your paperwork was properly handled. He felt like he was flying his entire way to the elevators yet his feet were firmly planted on the ground. There were so many things he wanted to do with you. So much he wanted to talk about.

But. . .

He couldn't let you know about the tie you had to him. More than you sharing powers. Blood connected the both of you. The only person (besides Ryan) who could boast that. It was something sacred to him. Of course nothing could remain pure when it came to Homelander. Because you were his sister that meant you were just as perfect as he was. Even more so since you had the added skill of telekinesis. The only person alive truly worthy of being with him. Thinking about his future had butterflies flapping their paper thin wings along the inside of his stomach. To take you the way he desired, Homelander had to make sure no one knew of your biological relationship. Public opinion would demonize him were the fact to get out. Initially he thought of keeping you locked up, but that was an unlikely scenario which would lead to you fighting against him. He wants you to be pliant and willing. That required trust to be developed along with Homelander worming his way into your brain and heart.

Hopefully the look he shot Starlight and Maeve on his way out was enough to prevent either of them in snooping around for information about you. This was his business that they should not meddle in. Particularly Starlight's intentions bothered him. She was a snake in the grass, proven it by aligning herself with Hughie and the rest of the Boys. He saw her being a problem in the future. That concerned look she'd had when her eyes fell upon you spelled trouble brewing.

The pep in his step dwindles thinking of it, jaw tightening. If Starlight found out you were siblings, it would put a wrench in the plans he was formulating. His long desired family unit was within reach. He could practically hear Ryan's laughter, see you chasing after the young boy as if he were your very own. How pretty you would look in summer clothes, waiting for Homelander to come home. The life of his dreams. The life Vought fabricated for his backstory could so easily become reality. He'd just been missing two important pieces. They were essential to this new life Homelander wished for.

There were no qualms over the idea of killing Starlight. Problems would be for Vought trying to cover it up. Not to mention the situation that would inevitably arise with Billy Butcher, especially now that he knew his wife was alive and raising the supe's son. Another encounter with him lay in wait. A headache he wasn't looking forward to dealing with. He just wanted to focus on you and Ryan.

Arriving at the gold plated elevator doors, he presses down on the button that would take him to floor 82, Mr. Edgar's floor. That was Mr. Edgar's kingdom which he ruled with an iron fist and ruthless attitude. When the two doors slide open, Ashley jumps back clearly startled by yet again running into him.

"I-I trust the room is to her liking?" Ashley's mouth twitches and morphs into what she must have thought passed off as a smile.

He stalks into the elevator forcing Ashley to seek refuge in the further most corner. Darkling tutting, Homelander waits for the doors to close before addressing the vice president who was charged with dealing with these self entitled heroes. "You're going to have to try a lot harder at pretending you're not scared. You stink of fear and if I can smell it, so could she."

Paling, her head rapidly nods in complete understanding all the while trying to relax her facial muscles into neutrality as well as taking a few deep breaths. If she didn't fix herself immediately. . . it brought back memories of Blindspot.

For a few seconds he watches her, specifically listening to her erratic heartbeat. At least she listened and didn't need to be told twice. Through her own sheer will, Ashley manages to calm herself enough to lower her pulse, not the easiest thing when her number one stressor was stuck in an elevator with her.

She reaches a hand up to her red hair and anxiously curls a lock of it around her finger instead, her only outlet that she'd be allowed.

"Good. You'll be coming with me to see Mr. Edgar." Homelander turns his blue eyes back up to the lit up floor numbers that were beginning to descend. With his attention away from her, Ashley stealthily rips out a few strands of her hair. The pain was soothing, aiding in faking her calm.

The air was suffocating with just the two of them. She thinks back to the phone call she'd received an hour before you and Homelander had arrived at the Tower. Stan Edgar personally warned her of what Homelander was doing. That he'd discovered not only a son but a sister too. Edgar, in the most polite way possible, instructed her not to get involved and just do whatever he told her to do. And absolutely no asking questions about you. Homelander was already pissed about so much being kept from him, best not to antagonize him further. Keeping him happy was top priority.

Unaware of the shit show that was unraveling, worker bees greet them with a smile once they arrive on the 82nd floor. A few even wave at Ashley.

Stan Edgar saw them coming the moment they stepped out of the elevator. Already he was on his feet and moving around his desk to greet them as his office door is opened. Homelander's hand poised at the back of Ashley's neck, he nudges her inside. Homelander motions for both of them to sit down as if it were his own office. His gaze doesn't waver, staring down an equally defiant Edgar. A normal human but he never squirmed in front of Homelander's penetrating stare. He'd commend the older man for his bravery. If only Ashley would take notes. She needed a better poker face if she's to make it in Vought Industries.

"You know why I'm here."

"Your sister and Ryan." Verifies Edgar. He'd prefer to stand but inch by inch sank himself down onto the cushion of his desk chair.

"Now, while Ryan may be under Becca's care, my sister is an adult and wishes to stay here. Train to be an elite hero. Like me. However," neither like the way he breathed out that single word "no one can know that we're related. People will scream nepotism and claim she's getting special treatment."

His reasoning was plausible but. . .

From a promotional point of view, a sibling duo would be a hit like the TNT Twins. The public would eat it up and show even more support for Vought in the polls.

"Oh, and her parents need to sign one of those NDA things. Can't have them flapping their mouth either." Tacking on as an after thought. You'd forget them soon enough. He'd just have to keep them away from you for the time being. They hovered over her too much for his liking. From the corner of his eye, he caught a quiver in Ashley's mask.

About to reprimand her, Edgar clears his throat and leans forward to allow his elbows to rest on the desk's surface." I understand. It will be done. But you do realize how difficult it would be to keep it under wraps considering the outstanding similarities. The powers, your eyes. People will start to ask questions."

"Let them ask away. As long as Vought says she's not my sister, then she's not my sister."

Why was he so intent on covering this one particular fact? Nepotism surely could explain it. Homelander's insistence of it concerns Edgar and Ashley who felt like he was planning something more nefarious for you. He was capable of any horrendous acts they could conjure. They were just as helpless when it came to him. Unable to defy his orders unless they desired him to burn holes into their faces as he did to Madelyn.

All of his whims taken care of, Homelander leaves them to start working on the welcome dinner with you and the rest of the Seven. He wants to show you off. He'd make sure you never wanted to leave him. Ensure that you continue to see him as all powerful and benevolent. The looks of admiration you'd shot him went straight to his head as well as other regions that were out of his control. Clear that you idolized America's favorite hero. Your parents raised you to believe that Vought was a company that cared about helping the public and that their heroes were there to protect and serve the general masses. No doubt in your mind that they were the good guys and the stuff on the media was simply baseless slander. What child would want to discover that their daddy was actually a bad guy working for the power hungry company and that supes were not in fact a gift from god. They were manmade. That knowledge would ruin your world.

Homelander would not allow that. You were his to protect now. His to blind and deafen to the world around them.

[ch4osworld]

THE PASSENGER

Chapter 4

Word count:1124 @cherry-4200 @adaizel

Yeaaaah finally chapter 4! I hope you'd like this one. I actually managed to put more effort into it so yeah

"Ehy bitch!" Lucifer exclaimed, a nervous look clearly evident on his face. A few seconds have passed as she was announcing whatever she had to announce to him, in an instant his face contorted from an anxious one to a happy one "YOU ARE INVINTING ME TO SEE YOU. YES I'LL SEE YA THERE BYE I LOVE YOU" he ended the call, as he stared at you , eyes shining with excitement "MY DAUGHTER INVITED ME TO SEE HER Y/N! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!" He burst, going out of the pool and getting dressed "Yes, Luci, I heard you while you were on call you know?" You answered, following him outside "Do you want to come too? It's been a while since you saw her in person too, i am sure she'll be happy to see you" "No thank you, it would be good for you two to have some farther-daughter moment alone. I am fine just in here" "Are you sure? Come on you know you want to see her" he coaxed "I couldn't be more positive about it" "Well ok then, i'll see ya later" he finishes, giving you a smirk and kissing your hand as a final goodbye. Oh he was such a tease. You loved him so so much, you desperatly wanted to ask him out, but the ring on his finger was a constant reminder of the things you could have done there in heaven. If only you wouldn't have been so coward, maybe, just maybe, he would be yours now. You walked through the castle, the white of the walls contrasting perfectly with the f/c of your clothes, dirty of blood that you weren't able to wash away, a looming sensation watches over you, a feeling of sorrow drowned you, as you knew something would have happened to you, one day. Not that you could do something about it, but when that moments will come, may the root of all evil have mercy on you.

A finger traced on your arm, as your nail went deep into your flesh, almost scarlet blood flow to your hand. Your blood was a constant reminder of the holyness you were slowly losing the more you lived in this gruesome place. Even being free from the fruit of knowledge of good and evil couldn't save you from slowly corrupting yourself, as sin was spreading all over you. You wondered what would have happened if you decided to accept his offer, what would have happened if you ate the apple.

"Dear, don't you want free will?" "I have already free will, you're a fool if you think I would disobey God like this. What would this make me gain?" "You don't seem like having free will to me, come on, I never saw you doing anything you actually wanted to do" "oh yes you did, many times in fact, the only things I want to do is to submit to God and to obey my husband" "Or is it really? Do you know what this could give you?" "Enlighten me, Lucifer, isn't this what your name means?" "This could give you more than you already have. More sensations, more experiences. You've never felt the lust of the flesh, the feeling of shame, don't you want to be complete? Don't you want to feel whole?" "Such a foolish reason, i don't need lust, i don't need shame, i don't need more experiences" "You are so stubborn, that's what I like about you. I hope one day you'll be able to understand why i am doing this. Now i shall go, my dear, duties are waiting" he said, a kiss planted on your forehead. He was such a moron, that's why you loved him, if God knew what he was trying to make you do, and what he already made you do, oh the things that would happen to him. You wouldn't be able to bear it, no one shall ever know.

You reached the comfort of your bedroom, a single red eye watching over you. You glared back, coldly. You knew too well who that belonged to, you knew you would be her next victim, even so, you didn't dare to say a thing to Lucifer. You cared too much about him, you didn't want him to worry for you too, he had already enough problems. You laid back on your bed, the eye following your every movement as it was studying you, trying to decipher your every secret. A strong feeling of death engulfed you, the more the eye stared at you the more it amplified. After some minutes you got too anguished by it to continue to stay in there, you decided to exit and go into Lucifer's room instead, it wasn't far from yours. As you entered the first thing you noticed where the big piles of rubber ducks, two campturing your eyes. It was you and him, in a little duck version, how cute. You sat on his bed, looking at the photos hung on the walls, it was mostly him and his family, but right in the middle, there was a protrait of you. The first ever of the many there were made. He promised you he would have throw it away because you thought you looked ugly in it, yet he didn't. You remeber that when you shamefully showed it to him his eyes lit up, he said you were perfect. He was so sweet to you, still is. Maybe in a few months you'll be able to confess to him, maybe he loved you too. Yes, you were sure of it, you were going to declare your love to him, possibly before the next exetermination. As you were thinking about what you would do, you felt Lucifer coming to his room, he was back already? You managed to get out just in time, before seeing him with a worries expression on his face "Luci? What happened? Did something go wrong?" "It's just that, my daughter is going to go on a meeting with heaven and i am just so worried. You know how heaven can be" "Yes, i know, but she is a smart woman, i am sure she'll be able to handle it yeah?" "I guess your right, i hope she'll be fine..." "she will, don't worry" you finishes, inviting him to an embrace. He didn't think twice to ingulf you whole, taking out his wings to seclude you two from no one since you were alone. In that instant all your hollow thoughts were soon forgotten, as all you ever wanted, all you ever needed was here, in your arms. That's just all that matters, for words are unecessary, words can do more harm than there already is.

[warningsine]

How different are the Wicked novels? Are they worth reading?

Yes!

Please, if you have the time, read them. You won't regret it.

As for your first question, they are completely different universes.

The musical itself doesn't cover a lot of ground. (Minus some delightful surprises, the film stays faithful to the musical.)

In fact, as much as I love it for its catchy tunes (they were a big part of my childhood) and charming perfomances, I have to admit that it's a very watered down family friendly (and thus straight) adaptation of Maguire's books.

Said books are far more preoccupied with the Animals' marginalization, because Maguire utilized them to comment on antisemitism: Hitler's Jewish victims being treated as animals/subhumans.

Various adult themes: cultural inequality, politics and education ethics to name a few.

There are violence, sex and substance abuse.

Regarding Elphaba, she is not a misunderstood outcast, who craves acceptance because everyone hates her.

She's darker; a cynical intellectual and later a leading figure in a revolutionary terrorist movement.

She defies trad gender roles (there's talk about her being intersex as well), is not religious and embraces her skin color.

She has a child, Liir.

There's no stupid Glinda/Fiyero/Elphaba love triangle either.

Glinda never has a thing with Fiyero and doesn't want to. She has romantic tension with Elphaba (which Maguire confirmed) and seems to be in love with her (although that's open to interpretation).

When they part ways, Elphaba kisses her and tells her to "hold out, my sweet." And Glinda does, for decades.

Fiyero is not a Disney-esque himbo player. He is a tribal king with blue diamonds on his face, in a loveless marriage with Sarima. He has an affair with Elphaba, which alters her life for the worse.

She lives some years in a monastery, then with Fiyero's family. When they get captured, Elphaba ends up ruling the West.

Also, Fiyero is not the Scarecrow. Elphaba has hallucinations (she exhibits some serious mental health issues) about him coming back to her as a last attempt to get the forgiveness that she desires (because he got murdered by the Oz guards).

Then there's Nessa, who becomes a powerful tyrant that can stand on her own, but she doesn't do it to force a man to stay with her.

Back to Glinda.

She's more or less a background character.

She marries a guy that solidifies her position in the upper echelons of society and allows her to retreat into a conventional life. Her marriage is devoid of passion; she does not love him in a romantic sense. There are even rumors that she uses her husband as a cover to hide her "true interests," because Oz is rather conservative and proper.

Glinda helps Liir and his child, Rain.

The Midwife confides in the younger characters that Elphaba and Glinda seemed more than friends.

There are hints that Elphaba's death might have been fake or that she might have used a spell which would allow her to get resurrected.

In "Out of Oz" (last book in the series), Glinda gets incarcerated for committing treason against the forces of Oz.

Of course, it's clear that she'll be freed at some point, because the public won't stand for it.

However, Glinda doesn't worry about that. She is confident that "[Elphaba]'ll free me."

Because of this, Rain and other characters worry that Glinda lost it due to her age.

Yet, in her final scene, a mysterious person comes to free her. Glinda says, "You wicked thing. You've taken your own sweet time, of course."

That's what Glinda used to call Elphaba at school, but it's ambiguous.

Did Glinda die and hallucinate Elphaba in her last moments? Did she die and reunite with Elphaba in the afterlife?

Or maybe Elphie did come to free Glinda and the two left Oz together.

[separatist-apologist]

Traitors Never Win

Summary: When Feyre Archeron's father promises she'll marry notorious crime boss Rhysand Moreno, Feyre will do anything to get out of the arrangement…including framing him for murder.

Rhysand isn't about to let her go so easily.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

In retrospect, the signs were all there. What were the odds the agent had the same name as her would-be fiance? Feyre hadn’t thought anything of it, even after she’d let him eat her out. It had been waking up at dawn, his arm draped over her, and a memory of Rhys jogging down the sidewalk after her weeks earlier.

He’d called her Feyre.

Not Sarah, like everyone–even Tamlin—did when they were in public. But Feyre. And for whatever reason, it had felt like a warning bell in her head that this man didn’t act very copish. He was chatty and didn’t seem overly concerned with rules. Casual in a way Tamlin never was. It was clear he had blood on his hands, but not in a sanctioned kind of way.

She just wanted to know. So Feyre had gone through his things until she found his laptop opened and unprotected…and the feed of his house running in the corner of his computer. She’d found the chats between himself and two people labeled only C and A documenting their progress keeping her sisters out of the loop while Rhys tracked her down.

She should have shot him. Feyre couldn’t stop thinking about it as they drove. He had her in handcuffs—because when he put her down in the driveway she’d slapped him so hard she’d busted his lip—and Feyre didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to take them off.

“You’re going to get caught,” Feyre taunted as Rhys drove, unconcerned and undeterred. 

His amusement annoyed her. “We’ll see,” was all he said in response. 

For a few hours, Feyre tried everything. She screamed at the top of her lungs and kicked at the dash until Rhys threatened to tie her up and throw her in the back. He sounded serious when he said it and Feyre believed he would do far worse if he felt like he had to. For a moment, she contemplated crashing the car and killing them both before she thought better of it.

With her luck, they’d both survive anyway. 

Feyre didn’t want to die. What she wanted was for all this to end in a way that made them all happy and so, as they began climbing into the mountains, Feyre decided a different tact.

“I’m sorry I framed you for my fathers murder,” she said, not sorry at all. It sounded petulant even to her ears.

Rhys arched a brow. “Liar.”

“You purchased me—”

“I purchased your fathers business,” Rhys interrupted, gripping the steering wheel so tightly the whites of his knuckles were showing. “How am I supposed to know if he told you or not? Most women in your position understand the life and the expectations that come with it.”

“No one ever asked if I wanted to marry you. Which I don’t, just so we’re clear,” Feyre told him, twisting her cuffed wrists resting in her lap. 

Rhys didn’t look moved. Still, Feyre had to keep trying.

“Look. What if I just—”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Rhys agreed, turning on his wipers as fog and a thin drizzle began to wash over them. “I won’t agree not to marry you in exchange for your terms. The only way out of this—for both of us— is marriage.”

Anger flared through her all over again. “I’m not marrying you!”

“You will,” he replied with more of that arrogance. “Or you would have shot me.”

“Are those my only options?” she demanded.

“I know you have no problems with murder, my darling. It should have been easy for you and yet here I am, and here you are.”

“You’re insane.”

Rhys only shrugged, allowing the pair to lapse into silence. Feyre didn’t know what else to say to him that might change his mind and so, maybe it was better to just try and understand him. If she could future out what made him tick, she could figure out how to beat him. Everyone had a weakness and that included Rhys. 

“Have you been looking for me the entire time?”

“Yes,” he agreed, his shoulders still tight. 

“To kill me?”

A sly smile spread against his face. “Not even close.”

He was absurd. Feyre didn’t believe for one minute that he’d spent the last five years chasing her simply because he wanted to be with her. No, this was punishment somehow. 

Though…last night hadn’t felt like a punishment. That didn’t mean anything. Last night he’d been another federal agent who wanted to touch her and not…himself. 

“What are you going to do to me?” she finally asked. 

“The same thing we’ve been doing,” Rhys replied with easy finality. “I’m not going to kill you, Feyre.”

“But you won’t let me go?”

“Where would you run to? Your sisters? The life before? All of that is over,” he said, gripping the wheel tightly against the winding road. “There is nothing to go back to.”

“Except you?”

“I’m your future, baby,” he reminded her. A horrific future in which she sat quietly in their house while he continued to terrorize their city. A future in which she had no say, had to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. Feyre could wait him out. How long before the feds realized she was missing? 

“I guess you haven’t been indicted, then?”

Rhys laughed, reminding Feyre that he was truly beautiful. Nothing at all like she’d imagined, with his dark hair and sculpted features. He looked very late twenties, early thirties—still young, still attractive and if the night before was any indication, virile. She’d been picturing someone her fathers age—old, and with a string of dead wives behind him.

Not that it made Rhys any less insane, of course. 

“No, Feyre. They can’t indict me because this is one crime I didn’t commit.”

“But Tamlin said—”

“That everything hinged on your testimony?” he guessed, glancing over at her. “Yes, I’ve heard that before. What happens, my little love, when you can’t keep this act up anymore?”

“It’s not an act,” Feyre replied.

“Perjury is a crime, too,” Rhys reminded her. 

“Who cares about lying?”

“The feds will care,” Rhys replied, reasonable as ever. “Especially when they can’t convict me because you’re a liar. They’re going to be pissed you squandered their best chance at taking me down and you’ll become their sacrificial lamb.”

“Let me guess. Unless I marry you?”

“Smart girl,” he praised. 

“I could recant—”

“Back to jail for murder,” Rhys reminded her. It was easy to forget Feyre had actually killed her father. Somehow she’d divorced it from her mind, the actions belonging to someone who most certainly was not her. Right then, though, Feyre could remember picking up the cool metal of the bat and taking a swing. Her father had been facing his computer rather than her—he hadn’t seen it coming. 

His head had bounced off his keyboard with a sickening crunch. She knew, right then, if she didn’t keep going that she would pay for what she’d done. Though Feyre hadn’t cared about being punished. It had felt good to have her retribution, to repay him for the years of neglect. 

When she came back to the moment she found Rhys watching her. “I remember my first kill, too.”

“Was it your father?”

Rhys’s smile was soft. “My uncle, actually.”

“Why?”

“Well, he made a play for my fathers seat—that’s my official story.”

“But the truth?” Feyre questioned.

“I love my cousin,” he said quietly, eyes darkening in memory. “And my uncle did not.”

Oh. 

“So you’re, what, a man with a code?”

Rhys shrugged again. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” 

But Feyre already knew the answer to that. Maybe that was what had compelled her to let him in without the usual protocol being adhered to. And last night…fuck. This was a kidnapping—she hated him.

And she was attracted to him. 

It made him more dangerous than he already, especially now that he knew they shared this in common. She’d seen him naked, and she’d liked it. Had let him flip her over the bed and fuck her throat like…like a whore. Feyre had wanted to do more with him, had been thinking about him naked even as she opened his laptop. 

She was thinking about it right then even as the cabin emerged from the fog. It was remote—that was her first thought. There was no one for miles and only one road that had branched from the main one miles back. It was becoming apparent that the only way in or out was in a car and if she wanted to escape, she’d need to get his keys.

A problem, considering he had her in handcuffs. But if she could trick him into freeing her…let him believe she cared about him and would willingly marry him, Feyre could get unrestrained long enough to incapacitate him and escape. She didn’t know where she’d escape to, but that was future Feyre’s problem. Getting far away from him was the first step, though. 

Rhys was ever the gentleman, opening her door and helping her out only for Feyre to jam her elbow in his gut. 

“I hate you,” she reminded him.

“As long as you feel something for me.”

“Disgust? Loathing?”

“Arousal,” he replied, hoisting her up in the air for no other reason than he apparently wanted to touch her ass. “I can practically smell it on you.”

“You’re disgusting,” she retorted, jamming her elbow into his neck. Rhys hissed, but didn’t drop her as he led her into the house. 

“I’ll be eating that pussy by the end of the week. You’ll beg for my tongue.”

“Maybe it’s you who will beg,” she replied, thinking about holding a knife to his throat.

“Almost certainly,” Rhys practically purred. “Welcome home, baby.”

He dropped her to the wood floor in a heap, chuckling as he made his way through the warm living room toward the kitchen. 

“This isn’t my home.”

“Well, no. Our home is far nicer and closer to restaurants. But this could be your home for the holidays. I’ll teach you to ski.”

“You’re crazy.”

Rhys rolled his eyes, a glass of scotch in his hand. “This only ends in one of two ways for you and me, baby. I figure it’s better to choose my way than yours.”

“Your way is marriage, which means mine is—”

“Death,” he said, his voice roughening. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning, Feyre. You’ll leave with me as my wife or we won’t leave at all.”

“Because you’ll kill us both?” she accused.

“Because there are only so many places I can hide you before we’re found, and I’m not letting you go if we’re not married,” he bit back. 

And that was that. Feyre picked herself up off the floor so Rhys could offer her a drink, which she accepted, and a tour, which she had no choice but to participate in. The cabin was nice—four bedrooms plus Rhys’s office, a basement that looked decidedly haunted, and a hot tub out on the deck she had no interest in.

“Which room is mine?” she asked when he was finally done showing her the scope of her new prison. It was a stupid question and one Rhys answered with a broad grin. Her room was his room, and right then Feyre understood exactly how things were going to go down.

Or, she thought she did until she saw the outfits he’d brought out for her.

“This is see through,” she said, holding up the panels of fabric clearly meant to be some kind of outfit.

“Is it?” Rhys replied, clearly seeing her hand through the transparent fabric. 

“I’m not wearing it.”

“Even better,” she said with a grin before flopping to the bed. “That was my preference.”

Feyre tried to get into the bed wearing her jeans, but Rhys stopped her. “Pick.”

“You’re an animal,” she snapped, snatching the dress from the bed. “You can’t stockholm me into loving you.”

“You already love me,” Rhys informed her, so self assured that Feyre was momentarily taken aback. “You would have admitted it had you not found out who I am. I wonder where we’d be then, Feyre.”

“Hell,” she replied, stomach twisting at the thought, “because I would have killed us both.”

“It would be heaven, dying at your hands—”

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped, stalking for the attached bathroom. The sheer dress was exactly as bad as she’d imagined—she would have been better off naked. It was merely the illusion of privacy and what was worse was the knowledge that if she escaped, it would probably be in this. 

Feyre came back out to Rhys, arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to her. Not when he was already so pleased with himself. She imagined Rhys thought he’d won—that he was about to get everything he wanted if he just waited a little longer.

Feyre held out her still cuffed wrists. “Please,” she forced herself to say. 

“Because you asked so nicely,” Rhys agreed, pulling the key from his pocket. It was a relief not to have the heavy, tight metal no longer twisting her delicate skin. Feyre forced herself into bed, trying desperately not to drink in the heady scent of him. Couldn’t he have been ugly, at least? His visual appeal didn’t help anything—Feyre couldn’t escape her attraction to him, which was muddling things, at least a little. 

She let him hold her until he fell asleep. Feyre feigned it, evening out her breathing and keeping her eyes closed. And for a little while, as she waited, Feyre tried to imagine a life like this. Would he always make her dress like a whore? Would she be another little trinket to him, a toy to amuse himself with before he discarded her for someone more interesting. For all her fathers flaws—and there were many—he was always faithful to their mother. But Feyre had grown up in the life and she knew that was the exception and not the rule.

Rhys was beautiful. She doubted she’d get that kind of fidelity from him. Deciding she wasn’t going to ask him any of her questions, Feyre instead slipped from his loosened grip, quickly pulled on her shoes, and began searching for car keys.

Feyre was jumpy—every creak, every rattle of the wind sent her crawling out of her skin until she couldn’t take it anymore. Stealing his coat, Feyre decided she’d take her chances and just make a run for it. 

The air was cold, seeping through Rhys’s warm jacket before the door was closed behind her. Feyre braced herself before taking the icy steps to the drive. His parked car taunted her and though it was tempting to damage the sleek, black body, Feyre didn’t have time.

She needed to put as much distance between herself and that man as she could before he woke up. Wishing she was stealthier, Feyre left the road for only a moment before realizing how slick and steep the sides were—she was likely to accidentally topple down an embankment and freeze to death.

She was likely to freeze to death anyway. There was no snow, no rain, but the wind was brutal and leftover liquid slipped into the cracks of her shoes until her feet were numb. The pure darkness around her did nothing to help. Every little sound was a predator coming to kill her. Feyre had assumed she could figure out her way back to the road, but after what felt like an eternity walking, she began to feel hopeless.

Scared, too.

What if she’d gone the wrong way and no one found her? Not even Rhys, who she knew would be out looking the minute he found her missing. Feyre took another step, slipping on a patch of unseen ice. Throwing her arms out to steady herself, she stumbled to the side and went tumbling to the side of the mountain they were on. Snow slipped through the openings in Rhys’s jacket and covered her face, muffling her panicked, desperate scream. 

Certain she was going to die, Feyre squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for freefall. Instead, her body slammed into the trunk of a pine tree, keeping her from going any further. She was trapped in a coffin made of ice and her lungs hurt every time she took a breath.

And still, she was alive.

Feyre swallowed, looking up at the swaying branches overhead. Okay. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing. All she had to do was—

“Feyre?!”

“Rhys,” she breathed, strangely relieved to see him. The darkness was minutely illuminated by the headlights of his car, and when she squinted upward, she could see the dark outline of him peering down.

“Feyre?!” he yelled again and too late, Feyre realized he couldn’t see her. 

“Rhys!” she called in return, the effort making her cough. It was enough, though—she heard him swear loudly before turning back for the car. She was so, so fucked and she knew it. Right then, though, Rhys was her salvation as he carefully made his way down after her. 

“Are you trying to put me in an early grave?” he asked once he reached her. By then, Feyre’s teeth were chattering so violently she couldn’t speak. All she could do was press her frigid cheek to his warm chest when he lifted her into his arms. Somehow he managed to get her back up that hillside and into the passenger seat of his car. 

He was angry judging by the tight set of his jaw and how roughly he gripped the steering wheel. And Feyre, for her part, was too exhausted to even try and do damage control. She merely let Rhys do whatever he felt was necessary, which included stripping them both of their clothes and piling blankets on top of them. She didn’t protest, either, when she felt the length of his warm body pressed against her spine.

“Just breathe,” Rhys murmured into her hair. “You’ll survive this.”

Feyre fell asleep like that and when she woke, she was sweaty and thirsty, but she was alive. Alone, too, judging from the lack of Rhys beside her. There were no laid out clothes and when she went looking for the sheer dresses he’d picked up for her, she found nothing but his clothes. Deciding on one of his shirts, Feyre pulled a long, black tee over her head before making her way to the main area of the cabin.

Rhys was waiting in a pair of charcoal slacks and a buttoned up, violet shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He was texting on his phone, brows furrowed. 

“Eat,” he said without looking at her, gesturing toward a plate of eggs. Was he really not mad? Feyre tried to think of something to say to him before deciding that really, this was his fault. He’d kidnapped her, after all—did he not expect her to try and escape him? She wasn’t going to apologize for trying. 

Feyre did as she was told while Rhys largely ignored her, staring down at his phone reading whatever had him so captivated. He took her plate when she finished, sliding it into the sink before gesturing with two fingers for her to stand.

“You’re coming with me,” he said, his voice suggesting she do as he say. 

“Rhys—”

“You could have died,” he interrupted, his eyes burning with the same intensity as the stars in the sky. “You would have died if I’d woken any later. So get up, Feyre darling.”

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked him, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Get up, Feyre.”

“If you hurt me—”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he snarled, clearly offended. She believed him, thinking back to the night before when he’d carried her back to bed without a word. He hadn’t even protested when her frigid back touched his skin and Feyre knew she would have made him suffer alone beneath blankets had the situation been reversed. 

“But you’re going to do something?” she asked. His eyes sparkled. 

“Turn around,” he instructed. Feyre did, only to hear the clicking of the handcuffs. 

“Rhys—”

“Shhh,” he murmured, running his hands over her shoulders. “I won’t have you hitting me in the face.”

“But I can kick you?” she challenged as he poked her toward the hall.

“You could try,” he replied in that good natured way of his. Rhys took Feyre to his office, closing and locking the door behind him. Feyre halted, barefoot on the soft rug, until Rhys poked her in the spine again.

“Sit,” he said, nodding toward his chair behind his desk. It was awkward given this time her hands were cuffed behind her back. 

“What are you doing?”

“Teaching you a lesson,” he murmured, eyeing her with appreciation. “I have a few calls I need to sit in on and I clearly can’t leave you alone while I work. So you’ll sit here with me and keep me company until I’m done.”

“You’d let me hear all your dirty secrets?” she taunted, her tone implying she would absolutely tell a federal agent if she escaped.

Rhys didn’t take the bait. “My wife ought to know where our money comes from.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” he replied with a finality she didn’t bother arguing with. “Now spread your legs.”

“No.”

Rhys stared at her for a moment, head cocked like a predator assessing his prey. Feyre was certain she could outlast him, ignoring the bolt of arousal that had snaked up her spine the moment she realized what he wanted.

He wasn’t a serious man, she decided. He was wanted, on the run with a literal hostage and he wanted her to spread her legs? Not tie her up in his dungeon and withhold food or water until she broke…he wanted to eat her out.

The phone rang, causing them both to start. Rhys pressed a finger to his lips in a demand of silence, before pushing the speaker button. 

“Go,” he said in that dark, rich voice of his.

“Boss, there’s been some shit—”

Rhys muted himself, only half listening as he murmured, “Spread your legs, Feyre, or I’m going to sit you on my cock for the next three hours.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed as Rhys began to sink to his knees.

“Wouldn’t I?” he murmured, grabbing her knees and wrenching them open. She was wearing only a shirt—everything else was soaked from the night before and Rhys had obnoxiously not provided any undergarments. He could see everything…though she’d already shown him two nights before.

Rhys leaned behind him, pulling his phone closer so he could hit the button and say, “Where is he now?”

“Dead.”

“Good. Tell me the rest,” he replied, clearly paying attention to the conversation in a way Feyre wasn’t. Then he was muting himself once again, pushing her thigh wide, and lowering his head.

“Rhys—”

“Shhh,” he murmured again. “I’m working, my love.”

She couldn’t focus on anything—not even kicking him in the face. He was so ridiculous, so beautiful, and he was on his knees trailing kisses up one of her bare thighs.

“How many—” Feyre took a breath when she felt her lips graze her pussy. “How many laundromats do you own?”

“We own,” he replied, the idiot. “Just four. I prefer car washes, personally. There is a little more overhead but it’s easier to…well. Easier to operate, let's just say.”

“Oh,” she whispered, not responding to what he’d said at all. Rhys was teasing her, his tongue just barely touching her clit before darting away back for her thigh. She didn’t notice him reach behind him for the button, though she did hear him speak.

“Kill him.”

“Kill who?” she asked. Rhys merely licked at her again, perhaps hoping to distract her. It worked for a moment—Feyre arched her hips closer, wishing he’d just get on with it. 

“Needy,” he praised, dipping a finger into her slick pussy. “You’ll sit nicely in my lap.”

“Tell me who you want killed,” she repeated.

Rhys sucked at her, drawing a soft moan from her lips. “Hybern.”

“Who?”

“You don’t need to worry—”

“You said what was yours was mine,” she reminded him, twisting her lower half away from his mouth. She could punish him too it seemed, because Rhys looked up at her with frustration, a lock of his dark hair flopping into his eyes.

“A rival,” he finally said, easing her back in front of him. “Your fathers death opened a power vacuum I can’t close because the feds are always watching. He’s encroaching and I’m tired of it.”

“So you’ll kill him?” she questioned.

Rhys licked her again, toying with her. “I’d do worse if I could get away with it. Death is easy.”

“Is that the kind of man you are?”

Their eyes met. “Yes.”

Did that bother her? Strangely, she found it didn’t. Feyre let her knees fall wider and Rhys groaned as he pulled her closer to his face. 

“I should have done this last night,” he whispered, his breath warm against her pussy. “You wouldn’t have left.”

“I would have,” she lied, unsure if that was true or not. 

“It's my fault,” he murmured before taking yet another taste of her. “And I can’t forgive myself for any of it.”

She had the sense he wasn’t just talking about the night before. Feyre had always assumed Rhys must hate her—that he wanted her dead. He should have. Any reasonable person would. And yet right then, Rhys’s violet gaze found hers and she saw the anguish hiding just behind his cool amusement. 

She felt pity. That was a mistake, to empathize with this man. One minute she’d be reassuring him he’d done nothing wrong and the next she’d have a wedding band on her finger as she drove their children to soccer practice.

Feyre could feel it, that tug toward fate. For one moment, Feyre knew the future that stretched before her—but it wasn’t in her nature to accept things blindly. If she was going to be his wife, she’d run toward it kicking and screaming.

Later, she decided. The kicking could come after he finished licking her.

Though Rhys very quickly tired of his little game. Deciding he’d sufficiently worked her up, if the way she was writing against his face was any indication, Rhys stood, revealing his own erection pushed tight against his pants. 

She watched through half lidded eyes as he undid the button with his strong hands, admiring the veins snaking up his arms. 

Rhys kicked them off, revealing mountains crowned with stars over his knees. “I swore I’d never kneel before anyone,” Rhys told her, sliding a finger into the waistband of his briefs. “But I’d kneel for you, darling.”

“You’re pathetic,” she breathed, transfixed on his now freed cock. It was exactly how she remembered—thick and long, the size of him demanding she look at him. Touch him. Taste him. Feyre could still remember her desperation to take him in her mouth and the pleasure she’d felt when he’d come.

“Up,” he told her, ignoring her insults. Feyre didn’t budge, legs still draped over the arms of the chair. That was no problem for Rhys, though—he merely lifted her up and sat himself down against the leather while ignoring the damp spot she’d left behind. 

“Be my good girl,” he murmured against her neck. “Keep your legs open.” “Rhys—” “Open your legs, baby," he repeated in that soft, seductive voice of his.

She did, gasping when the blunt head of his cock stabbed her entrance. “Rhys,” she whispered, twisting in his lap as he wrapped his arms tight around her.

“You can take me,” he insisted, though Feyre didn’t think that was true. Rhys pushed her down just enough to take the first few inches while Feyre cried out, squeezing herself around him so tightly she didn’t think he could wedge the rest of him into her.

Behind her, Feyre could feel Rhys’s heart pounding through the shirt he still wore. “That’s a good girl,” he praised before sinking his teeth into her shoulder. “Take the rest.”

“It’s too much,” she whined, though in truth it was easier to adjust than she expected. Rhys must have felt her relax because he was back to impaling her with a few more inches, and then more still, until Feyre swore she could feel him in her lungs. 

“Now sit,” he said, swearing softly when she squeezed herself tight around him.

“Sit?”

“Keep my cock warm while I work,” he replied, scooting his chair forward. The rocking motion made them both moan, though once he was close enough to his computer, Rhys went still again. It was torture to just sit there, aroused and needy from his teasing tongue and yet when Feyre tried to grind herself against him, Rhys swatted at her exposed pussy lightly.

“Don’t move.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll fuck that bratty mouth until you can’t even whisper,” he replied. 

She wished, though she didn’t say. Feyre did try, too. She tried to sit still and pay attention to his conversations, the emails he wrote, the payroll software he used. She saw a message from his associate A—Azriel, she learned—and a long complaint about a woman named Gwyn who’d pointed a shotgun at his face and fired before he’d had a chance to say a word.

Rhys had chuckled when he read it, like the whole thing amused him.

But underneath it all, Feyre was distracted by his pulse hammering in his cock and the way his hand would occasionally drift up her thigh to tease her clit before dropping it again. She could never quite get comfortable, could never ease herself out of her desperate arousal. He kept her on edge while he himself did nothing except hold himself inside her.

How long could a man keep an erection, she wondered? How long could this man? Longer than most she supposed. Rhys took two more calls, leaning back so the angle changed and shifting just enough that Feyre had to swallow more than one whimper. His fingers teased and touched, feeling the place their bodies joined over and over. It was like he couldn’t help himself.

“Rhys,” she whispered when the call ended, twisting in his lap. “Let me go.”

“I can’t,” he admitted, arching his neck. “I need to fuck you.”

“Rhys,” she warned, but he was too quick. Shoving aside the things on his desk so his phone and mouse and keyboard all clattered to the floor, Rhys had her lying against the wood with his cock still buried inside her.

He pushed up her shirt, exposing her breasts before slowly pulling himself out. Feyre tried to arch up, forcing him out of her entirely, but Rhys was more  practiced than most men. He didn’t flinch, slamming himself to the hilt back inside her body.

“Sneaky,” he praised. “I should spank you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she panted, arousal sparking bright and hot. 

“I would dare,” he disagreed, wrapping one of his broad hands loosely around her throat. “The things I want to do to you…”

Maybe she didn’t want him to finish that sentence. She wanted to know about his fantasies, though. Rhys was so liberal with his praise, his thoughts, his desires. After years with Tamlin, it was strange to get an answer to her questions. Tamlin kept it all to himself—even asking him how he’d enjoyed the sex only ever earned her a murmured, “it was good.”

“You’re so fucking wet,” Rhys whispered, thrusting again. “So tight.”

Feyre couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her, arching into him as he brought himself lower. Rhys’s teeth grazed her throat, pressing a sucking, bruising kiss against her throat. 

“You’re mine,” he told her, his next thrust punishing in its intensity. “Say it.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

His grip on her throat tightened. “Say it,” he warned, restricting her air just enough to make her want him more. She wished he’d just shut up and kiss her.

Feyre tried to turn her face but Rhys squeezed tighter still, hips pistoning into her with an unrelenting intensity. Feyre was drowning in pleasure and Rhys must have been able to feel it. His other hand was between her legs, teasing and touching her swollen clit until Feyre was clenching her teeth, desperate to stave off her orgasm. 

“Say it!”

Feyre came so violently she felt her spine crack as she arched off the desk. “You’re mine,” she heard herself babbling, forgetting what, exactly, he wanted to hear. Rhys groaned, his own rhythm stuttering before he pushed deeper and deeper, all but rutting into her as he chased his own pleasure.

She swore she felt him come, though maybe it was just the illusion of it. She certain felt the wetness of his come slip from her body as Rhys held himself still, chest heaving.

“I am yours,” he swore, his voice soft and low. “I always have been. I’ve been waiting for you—all five years with no one but you.”

“You’re insane,” she whispered with too much affection. His was merely the afterglow of her orgasm that made her soft and sweet. 

Rhys withdrew himself, fingers pushing his own spend back into her body. What did Feyre care? She was on birth control, determined not to have a child until the whole ordeal was over. If she even wanted children—she’d never been certain of that.

So lost in her thoughts, Feyre didn’t notice Rhys sinking back to his knees. Not until he pulled her to the edge of his desk.

“The day isn’t over,” he said, sliding his fingers through the mess. “And neither am I.”

Feyre merely laid her head back. 

Good.

[justafoxhound]

For Talia and/or Burke because he’s your OC too as far as I’m concerned

5. Does your OC have a signature weapon and/or attack? How long did they train to master it?

19. Has your OC ever had an experience with the paranormal or the divine? What happened? Was it a one time encounter or is it a normal part of their life? Did they find it terrifying or thrilling? (Did you ever play the DLCs? Now I’m interested how she’d take to point lookout creepiness or mothership zeta)

15. What places hold significant meaning or memories for your OC? Do they have a positive or negative association with those places?

Burke as my oc aaaaah thank you!!🥰

5. Does your OC have a signature weapon and/or attack? How long did they train to master it?

Well Burke uses his pistol, quiet, when they're not expecting it. He's not interested in any kind of scuffle, will make sure he has all the advantages if at all possible.

I think Talia enjoys when a shotgun is called for. Otherwise she is kinda go with the flow. Maybe she didn't intend to attack or hurt anyone but you know things just escalate and she'll utilise whatever is near. (: She might definitely have swung at someone with the wrench she was working with.

19. Has your OC ever had an experience with the paranormal or the divine? What happened? Was it a one time encounter or is it a normal part of their life? Did they find it terrifying or thrilling? (Did you ever play the DLCs? Now I’m interested how she’d take to point lookout creepiness or mothership zeta)

I don't think Talia is attuned to the spiritual world. Even if she experienced something spooky she would doggedly refuse to be spooked, bc it's obviously someone messing with her, or ghouls or something, who are creepy enough.

(I only played mothership zeta I think, and I was just running around blasting aliens I don't remember much else lol. I guess she'd do the same... I mean ghouls and mutants and such were as wild to her as aliens would be, so once she's stood in front of them she'd just accept that's how things are. What's one more 'are you fucking kidding me' in the grand scheme of things?

I did clear the dunwich building with her and jericho on my current game recently. They'd both agree the pillar at the end gives them the heebie jeebies, but the radiation is a perfectly valid and logical reason to leave lol.)

Burke senses something off at Littlehorn's, but is reluctant to name it as anything supernatural. I imagine he's the same about anything he might have encountered or heard from reliable sources, and i think he's seen one or two odd things in his travels. He wants a rational explanation but if that's lacking he'll just kind of ignore the issue. Can't very well manage events if you have ghosts and things defying earthly rules can you?

(I thinks it's very funny to imagine entities reaching through to Burke, and the only person he might confide in is Talia who would tell him he's crazy. 🤭)

15. What places hold significant meaning or memories for your OC? Do they have a positive or negative association with those places?

I think in terms of the vault the reactor level is a positive memory for Talia. It's where her elders were 'off duty', where James was actually fully attentive (and breaking rules with/for her), where she had fun sneaking off with friends/boys. A small pocket of freedom from the vault regime.

Also Tenpenny Tower is major for Talia, she found a place there, learned to survive, and fell in love there. It's important to Burke too, spent 10 or so years building it up. He also fell in love, but he also gave it up. His feelings are more conflicted... was he insane to give it all up??? He has to make the sacrifice worth it.

I feel Burke should have something more in his past but, I don't have a solid backstory😔

Thanks for the questions!!

[fostersffff]

Well, I didn’t liveblog as much of that as I would’ve liked, especially since I didn't anticipate how rapidly the ending would come, so instead: let's review! (spoilers directly beneath the break)

Fucking radical reveal of the dual logo in the end.

I really liked the general structure of the events: a detective, searching for her brother, manipulates the scene of a teenager's suicide to look like the serial killings that she narrowly escaped as a child to draw out the murderer and get a lead on her brother. That's great!

I have largely forgiven Sakamoto for Other M on account of Metroid Dread, but I think the way Junko's story wraps up is like "ah, yes, of course, the Other M guy is still in there."

I wish there was even slightly more justification for why Minoru murdered Ayaka in the first place. Like, you get the impression in the moment it's because she made him confront the fact that she's wasn't Emiko, but then in his notes he's like "if a crying girl keeps crying when she see's my mask then she'll be sad forever". Feels like it would've strung together more naturally if instead the note said "if they keep crying when they see my mask, they're not Emiko", but that would complicate what happened with Mama Shoko, because then he would just think she was Emiko.

It can, of course, be hand-waved with "he was fucking crazy", but that's not especially satisfying. Especially since he had the wherewithal to cover his own face and make Makoto wear a mask when he went into town to work.

It also feels like, once you step back to view the story as a whole, Main Character-kun and Ayumi Tachibana didn't really... do anything. Junko's doing her own thing the whole time, Kamihara was already keeping tabs on her so telling him about the motorcycle and tie didn't actually contribute anything, Utsugi was apparently circling the source of the Emio legend by the time you tell him the specific village name, and even that didn't really contribute to solving the mystery, it was just to provide resolution. I feel like if they had just had the player call Kamihara once he heard the gunshot it would've made everything to that point feel worth it. Alas.

Some of the translation feels... weirdly stilted? Maybe it's a consequence of the way some characters are written, but Fukuyama is a real like... either the dialogue or the idea of this character conceptually is translated poorly

Most of this is negative, or at least not positive, but I did rather enjoy this! I don't know if I'd spend $50 again (it really should be priced at $40 tops), but I would definitely like to check out those first two games some day.

[gojoidyll]

Lol, hehe. I'm actually from hongkong, hence my Chinese name 'mei', but I am currently studying in Australia for my BA's and Master's!!

I've also been thinking about some fluffy hc's, so here we go!!

Yuan:

I think yuan after the whole act1 mess, he'll commission a billion paintings of you to forever remember you by. Secretly ofc, he'll hire a royal painter to paint a couple's portrait or even have the sneak paint a few from far away while the two of you picnic or smth. I think you've noticed that I love picnics!!

I think aftercare with him would be sweet, like massaging your back and licking the bite marks he left.

----

Fei fei loves it when you comb through her hair and untangle all the knots, maybe caress ears and fluff the up?

And abt how fast she is in bed, I think she would slow down for like...5 mins, and then she'll go back to her lightning fast pace cuz she's so bored and impatient. I also think she loves hearing you moan and whine. Cuz part foxian and she prolly has good hearing.

----

Sunday would love it if you help him shed his feathers cuz some birds have like a film on their new wings and their partner / mate usually removes it for them!

Also, like it when you brush her hair out.

----

Blade

Loves it when you tease him by braiding his hair into silly styles. Maybe decorate it with a pink ribbon or some flowers. And his face would always scrunch up and act like he hates it as is annoyed but he really loves it, though his pride will never let him admit that.

I also think y/n would make flower crowns for him out of some cutesy flowers or maybe red spider lilies?

Aftercare with him would be cuddly and sweet cuz i think he becomes even gentler!

----

A couple more questions cuz...I love the story lots and I'm tryna pick at crumbs here

1. Since jiaoqiu is one of the love interests, will he ever go blind like in the Canon story? That'd be super sad 😭😭😭.

2. Does fei xiao have moon rage, and is she even part borison or full foxian?

3. Is jiaoqiu trying to cure fei fei in this au?

4. Considering moze's backstory, where he was a kid taken in by sanctus medics, does this also apply in the au?

5. Does sanctus medics exist since mara and the aeons also exist?

----

I think at the very very end I smol sidestory where y/n and yuan's positions were switched would be very interesting. Like empress y/n and her harem of very sexy looking servant men.

I want a shy yuan so so so badly, I need to see this man beg and whimper!! Maybe a scene where he gets flustered by y/n?

I imagine a scene during an important banquet with some envoy and diplomats from different countries, and y/n's hands just wandering on yuanie's thigh cuz she's super bored. And yuan can't even focus on whatever the diplomat is yapping abt. Just blushing and grunting here and then 🤭🤭🤭

----

Wah, I really thought you'd live in Asia since you usually reply my request at 12 or 1 am my time when you're off work 🤣🤣.

I hope you have a good day!!!

That's so cool!!! I just studied my engineering... here- i did not traveling whatsoever (until i got my job lmao)

-

We need more sweet!jy and the paintings remind me of this one character from demon slayer who painted so many pictures of this woman he loved (won't spoil who since I'm not sure if you're reading that manga or not)

-

Would live to stuff my face into fei's hair 😭 I would forget that I'm combing it-

-

That seems so intimate with sunday 🫣😳 do you think he'll be blushing the whole time?

-

Blade makes my heart all soft and squishy, would like to cuddle with him 100% (in game blade would absolutely kill me though)

-

1. I think jiaoqiu will keep his sight, in game saddened me too much and I don't want to hurt him 🤧 (unless... new villain for new act 2?)

2. She does, I would like to think that that at least stayed with her in this au, so she's still the same

3. Yes 😌

4. Yep! It still applies, I just having fit those guys in yet, but sanctus whatever group they're called will definitely make an appearance

5. Yep!

-

EMPRESS Y/N AND GENERAL JY 😭😭 OH MY SHAYLA JUST WATCH HIM TRY TO COMPETE WITH HER FREAKING HAREM-

Shy!yuan for the win!!!! XD

Oh my 😳

-

I- i sometimes get bored at work... 🫣 listen, my boss makes a dollar and I make a dime. If I'm going to be bored sitting here, might as well write some stuff-

Though, when I'm super busy then I just disappear for like days-

And same to you!

Also, quick question, I'm trying to decide between starting who made me a princess and omniscient readers viewpoint but can't decide on which one to start, got any suggestions on the two? (Also, I'm not sure which genre I'm currently into right now, like I'm all over the place. Sometimes I want to read something action and other times I'm craving for something else, if that makes sense?)

[dalniente]

my phone is being annoying but BOOK EMOJI

ahahaha omg 😂 ok so book emoji, talking about a fic i have in my head but have never written down!

stereotypical amnesia fic beneath the cut, lol

Roxanne gets into some kind of accident and hits her head. Wakes up in the hospital with her mother dozing in a chair. Mom is OVERJOYED Roxanne is awake; it's been sort of touch and go for a while as to whether she would wake up at all. She's had people working on a solution but this will be such good news, hooray, she's lucid, she's feeling mostly fine--

And then Roxanne sees the ring on her finger, and oh. Okay. She is not fine, actually. She's lost nearly all of the last three years, and several prior to that are exceptionally spotty.

Her mom is left with the unenviable position of navigating some...ah...fairly major news. Yes, you're very happy together. Three rings, right, wedding band and two engagement; you're sort of...well, also married to his best friend? What's that word your brother is...? Aromantic, queerplatonic, yes. Neither of them is anyone I would have ever picked for you, but you're happy and I do know when I'm beaten, so... well, anyway, the only reason your man isn't here is I made him go home to take a shower and a nap. And to start putting together a better MRI scanner so he would stop fretting over your charts. Yes, he's building it himself. And no I haven't said his name yet, and... yes you do probably already know him, it's just-- well, you see-- um-- tell, tell you what, let's call Wayne, shall we? I think this will probably sound a little better coming from Wayne--

So that's a thing.

Roxanne takes the news...not well, but not totally poorly either. Mostly she's just stunned. But if her mother can admit she's happy with Megamind, that says a lot. That's...promising. Reassuring. And Wayne confirms everything her mother has said, which is similarly reassuring.

Megamind, on the other hand, takes it VERY poorly. Wayne says she's awake and his heart leaps, and then Wayne says there's a slight problem, her last clear memory of you is from early 2009, and his heart sort of collapses in his chest. He's been working on his self-worth and has come a long way but he's had a long two weeks and right now, from where he's sitting, all he can think is that Roxanne was a miracle that is not going to happen twice. This is absolutely the end for them. He'll start researching divorce lawyers immediately.

(Roxanne is initially of the opinion that yes, that is probably for the best, but Wayne convinces her to at least give the little guy a chance. Come on, Roxie, for Minion’s sake. Please?)

From here it's sort of...Roxanne slowly regaining her footing. Traumatic brain injuries are a helluva drug; her mind works differently from how it used to and it's a struggle sometimes in ways she doesn't expect. And she can't remember things she wants to and it's SO disorienting, and Megamind and Minion are obviously both struggling as well for other reasons but they are being so lovely with her, and she keeps shying away and it's awful, she hates it. Megamind gave her a photo album to maybe help her put some things together, and it isn't really working yet but maybe if she just keeps at it she'll be able to remember just a little more-- okay, Wayne was right, he is worth trying, but come ON, brain, fucking WORK--

Megamind wanders down to the kitchen in the wee hours one morning a few weeks later for a snack or something and Roxanne is there with the album. She's...having a little bit of a moment. Little bit of a cry. She's sitting at the kitchen table looking at this one picture that someone took of all three of them-- Megamind and Roxanne and Minion when they were on some vacation somewhere together and Roxanne snuck up behind the other two to pounce on them and hug both of them at once. So she's in the middle with her arms around their shoulders and all three of them are laughing. And she's like, "I can't remember this and I WANT TO, we look so HAPPY and I don't know if I'll ever get any of this back-- you're so sweet to me now and your bed smells like home and I don't know why and I want to, I want to--"

He's been keeping his distance since she came home. Has been waiting and letting her initiate whatever contact between them. But he goes to her now and pulls her into a hug without thinking because he cannot fucking stand it, and she just wraps her arms around him as hard as she can.

"Okay," he says, patting her hair and trying to think of what to do and mostly just wanting to burst into tears right along with her. "Okay. It's okay."

It's not okay. It's not okay and she doesn't know how to make it be okay, but it's been a few weeks and Roxanne is tired of waiting to maybe remember and tired of hoping for something that isn't coming and tired in general, and so she asks him to come to bed with her. Just stay with her, please; she's freaking out and she wants to be held, and fuck it. Fuck it. Come to bed.

In the morning at breakfast, hearing all this, Minion says, okay. So, photo album isn't working, or if it is it's not working the way we were hoping for. New plan: let's go on another trip? Let's all go somewhere together. Traveling. Maybe go see some places we've seen already, definitely go see some places we've never seen. Maybe your old memories will come back and maybe they won't, but either way we'll make new memories and have a good time making them. Let's go.

.............And idk if that's the end of the story or if there's more story that's just them going around places. I haven't played much with the traveling itself

[draslihanxfahri-bailey]

"... Fine, maybe I know more, but my point still stands!" Would Asli continue this 'argument' for as long as possible? Perhaps. It was all in good fun, after all. She would rather they have this than to genuinely be fighting with him. No words in any of the languages she knew that were in her arsenal could describe how much she loathed fighting with him. Aslihan waited quietly as she watched him make his choice. For a moment, she thought she was going to have to swallow her pride and admit to everyone, unfortunately including the man known as her brother, that she has finally been bested by someone. However, a genuine big smile soon formed as she heard his answer. "I think I can manage that," she mused. "Name when and I'll get right on it. I'll even make you your own homemade batch of potstickers, just to sweeten the deal better."

Passion, for as long as she could remember, was always considered a high value in the Bailey family. Aslihan couldn't imagine a life where she wasn't passionate, especially for her interests. And the older she got, the more things she's grown passionate about. Of course, she knew that it was a rather fortunate and even privilege position for her to be able to act on all of her passions. But she has also tried to make sure to help others to be able to act on their passions. Even if she does lose sleep doing so. Though, that was something she could never complain about. "Hey! I do take breaks every now and then, thank you very much. I'm just... extremely selective concerning them." Though, with her daughter being here soon, it has made her think about things. Decisions and choices that she's contemplating on taking that would result in her being able to have more breaks. Especially one of them, which would be one of the biggest and hardest decisions she'll have made in the past couple of years. Yet, the more she thought about it, the more she understood how right it would be. Even though it wasn't easy, but necessary. And the best step to take in her life right now. Though, she would have to wait a moment and she wanted to talk with Elijah about it before making any decisions. "I'm sure you're doing an amazing job. Trust me, I'm still learning as I'm going and each day is different. Just don't give up, okay?"

It was hard to look at him. She didn't want to admit to him the truth and to make things worse. But... not answering didn't help either. Especially as he looked from her, a clear show that he knew what her answer would've been. It was hard to watch him yet not know what to say to attempt to make things better. Because, in the end, nothing would. Nothing could change what happened, what choices they made, and all of the lost memories they were meant to share together and with Alex yet will never now know what they would've been.

But, there was also that always present need to protect him that showed itself. That was ready to take the blame he tried so hard to carry. This wasn't his fault, after all. And she refused to let him believe that it was. "I wrote you letters," she admitted softly. Her fingers playing with her Magen David slowly yet she tried to continue on. "From the day I found out about her to the day we flew here from London, I wrote you letters. But I couldn't... I tried to send them to you so many times, but I couldn't. I kept them in a few bundles in Alex's baby box and I told myself that I would one day finally send them to you. The amount of times I started writing and drafted emails, where I tried to send you a message through Instagram... I called the rescue once." It was her turn to look away from him. Her eyes shutting tightly to hide the tears that were forming. Shame filled her being and she tried to continue. "I... I heard your voice and for the first time in so long, it wasn't an old video from our time together or from my memories. But I panicked and hanged up. I was just so scared and I... I missed you so much... I was a coward, Atlas. I should've tried harder, done better, and I'm so sorry. None of this was your fault; It's mine."

Dark brown eyes opened at his words. Scanning his features quietly, she smiled softly. "I've faced death before and turned out okay," she joked lightly. Yet, she knew that it wasn't going to help much. Shaking her head, she slowly got up and walked over to Atlas, sitting in the chair closest to him. "You're right," she admitted softly. "I... I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know if I'm going to be okay or not. But... I know that you will be okay. You can do this without me. We've spent the past two years coparenting and taking care of Alex by ourselves, and you've done an incredible job with Alex without me around. You will be okay, no matter the outcome. And you'll still have my family around to help you as well. You... You'll have Eli. And I need you and Eli to lean on each other and raise the girls together in case... in case I do die." Quietly, she reached her hand out to place on his shoulder. "You are capable of so much, Las. You always have been and you always will be. And you are capable of doing this without me. I can promise that. Even if you don't believe that, I believe in you. That has never changed." Her lips pressed together. There were many things she could promise him, but that? She couldn't. She would always try to protect him. Including from what else could happen. "I can't promise you that," she whispered, pulling her hand back from him. Looking down, she noticed the time on her watch and she stood up. "I-I have to go. Eli and I have an appointment in an hour. I'll... I'll see you soon, okay?" ||📜@atlaswilliams

"Seventy seems low for you, so no. I'm not buying it." By comparison, Atlas felt as if he knew nothing at all about the world and the life he lived. It wasn't on the account of her making him feel inferior, but how could anyone stand next to a Bailey and feel as if they'd lived at all? "What do I want? Damn, that's a tough question. Hearing you tell the world that you got bested would be a good one. Especially if I can get a one Theo Bailey upfront and center. A high five is lame. I'm more of a fist bumping guy. I guess if I really have to choose just one," he trailed off, anticipation dripping off his words as his grin slowly grew wider, "then I'm going with a home cooked meal. I'd be an idiot if I passed that up. I think you know what I'm picking too." It was her personal favorite and a dish he'd come to quite enjoy himself, but hadn't had the privilege of enjoying in months.

His passion matched hers in the sense that the wolves were his life, just as research, education, and discovery was hers. While he wasn't the sharpest mind in studies that mattered to the rest of the world, someone would have done well to know more about wolves than he did. Between his time at the rescue and the education he'd obtained at University, it was the one thing he'd always taken seriously enough to give a damn about. Even at his lowest points, the wolves mattered the most. "You should do that thing that people do sometimes, I think it's called taking a break? It could be good for you. I promise things won't fall apart in your absence and if they do, you can blame me for pulling you outta there for a day." She was an important piece to the puzzle at her job, but one day away wouldn't send any establishment crashing to the ground below... he hoped. "I hope so. I'm doing everything I read online. Even singing her a few tunes in the morning. Something about manifestation?" If he believed hard enough, then it would be.

Patience was a virtue. He'd been told such a thousand times and he'd never truly realized what it meant until he'd become a father. Patience meant waiting for a tantrum to pass. Patience meant staring your child in the eyes while they openly defied a very simple request. Patience meant answering every question that left your daughter shot off, even if you don't know the answer.

But this? Waiting for a simple yes or no? It was the most torturous thing that he'd ever experienced in his thirty-something years of living.

Her silence was enough of an answer, as was her gentle plea of his name. Rather than argue in a battle he would never win, he dropped his gaze from hers and focused on a worn wooden board at his feet. She could blame herself all she wanted, but the fix to the silence between them had worked both ways. Sure, she could have called, but he couldn't blame her for staying silent. After all, why would she reach out to a man who'd basically left her behind? A man who hadn't even called to let her know that he'd landed safely, or that he was appreciative of everything she and her family had done for him in those three weeks.

The guilt buckled down and made a home in his chest, but he did his best to mask the overwhelming heaviness that settled there. This wasn't about him. It was about her and her health. Health that had severely been affected by the birth of their daughter and now, she was facing that battle again. "You can't promise that," he countered quietly, voice weak. So much for manifesting anything, right? "I want to believe that you will be, because I can't... I can't do this without you. So, I'm going to believe that you're going to be fine, but you can't... you can't promise that." Alex needed her mother and that wasn't going to change. Atlas needed her too, but it felt selfish beyond his means to mention it. "If something changes... just promise me that you won't try and hide it."

[mendessi]

I see you haven't been active in a while but I'm asking a million people if you could please write a Javi Pena fic where the reader gets injured while they're on a job and he like feels something is wrong or something like that thanks

bambi | javier peña

pairing: javier peña x fem!reader

summary: you assist peña and carillo in tulo to bring gacha down but end up getting hit before the job is finished

word count: 4.4k

warnings: canon-typical violence, season 1 narcos spoilers (go watch it already wyd), kind of established relationship already, angst?, mention of death (reader does not die), tender!javi, maybe more am not sure yet, there is def a little backstory before jumping into the main part

minors dni

You had been in Colombia for almost two years and had fought your way into the position you were in. Tooth and nail, one might add. Being a woman in this line of work, in this day and age was not easy in the slightest bit. You busted your ass in school and in training just to earn a spot in the DEA, even harder to get the approval to be sent to Colombia. Even with your father having a higher up position in the DOJ, it still wasn't easy and you didn't expect it to be.

The introduction of narcotics into the United States wasn't easy on you considering one of your closest childhood friends had overdosed on their birthday trip to Miami that you were on. There was no indication that she had even consumed any drugs let alone enough to OD on, but it happened anyways and when you found her the next morning it destroyed nearly everything in you.

You were always destined to work for the Department of Justice, but something in you shifted after the death of your friend. Once the war on drugs had been declared you knew exactly where you needed to be.

Your bags were packed within an hour of receiving the call of your relocation assignment and exactly twenty four hours later you were on a flight to Bogota, Colombia to meet your new bosses at the embassy.

There was barely any time for you to set your bags down before you were asked to meet Noonan at the embassy. You weren't set to begin work for another week so you could officially move to Medellín and settle down, but there were a few papers you needed to sign to solidify your acceptance of the job.

He remembers it clear as day, the second he saw you walking into the embassy. Hair tied into a ponytail, curly pieces framing your face sweetly. A powder blue button up was tied into a knot paired with light wash jeans that weren't too tight, but were just the right amount of loose, white sneakers on your feet. His eyes followed your every step as you shook Noonan's hand outside her office door, the smile on your face brightening the room. His stomach twisted at the thought of someone like you in the war torn country you were in, wondering what even brought you here in the first place. You looked out of place, like you didn't belong here and that made him nervous. As he watched you disappear behind the ambassador's door, he decided quickly that you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life.

About thirty minutes later, Noonan was at his desk with you by his side. He and Steve both rose from their seats at the sudden presence of the ambassador and the short guest standing next to her.

"Boys, this is your new partner. She'll join you next week in Medellín until further notice." Noonan said before turning on her heel and leaving you there standing in front of the two men that towered over you.

You had heard plenty about them and their work thus far into the hunt for Pablo Escobar and always admired their bravery for what they do.

"Right, hello. Steve." He held his hand out to you and Javier did the same, his name coming out more as a mumble.

"Sorry?" You asked.

"Javier. Peña." He repeated a bit louder and shook your hand, your name barely making it to his ears because how focused he was on taking in all of your facial features.

"I look forward to working with you both. I have to get to Medellín but, I'll see you guys next week." You spared yourself the awkward small talk and removed yourself from the situation. You could tell they were just like any other male in this line of work that were immediately doubting you upon first impressions.

What they didn't know was that you were top of your class at Quantico and could take down a man that was three times your size. You were used to people doubting you and didn't expect this to be any different.

Steve and Javier both were sharing the same thoughts and that was how someone your size could've been approved to join the DEA in Colombia. They kept that to themselves til after you had left the building.

"She's gonna get torn apart." Steve sighed gathering his things. He and Javi were only meant to be in Bogota for the day for a briefing before heading back to Medellín.

About 30 miles from home, they came across you standing on the side of the road, blood drenching your clothes and splattered across your face and your government loaned car completely totaled. The tires screeched as Javi pulled off the road behind you, he and Steve out of the car in seconds with their guns in their hands.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" Javi asked, reaching a hand out to you. "Is there anyone near? Who did this?"

You were in tears, barely able to speak as Steve slowly moved around the vehicle a wave of relief washing over him when he saw the deer plunged through the windshield of your car.

"I'm sorry- I'm not- I don't ever cry like this, I swear. I'm jet lagged and covered in-" You barely could finish the sentence you just let out a frustrated groan.

"Javi," Steve called him over and he hesitated before stepping around you.

"Deer." Javi said before walking back towards you. He rested his hands on your shoulders and made you look at him, "Are you hurt?"

"No, it's his blood not mine. Fucking disgusting." You sighed, almost gagging at the sticky feeling of it drying to your skin. He almost smiled at the bad word leaving your lips, almost as if it didn't belong there.

"Here's what we'll do. We'll get your things, you can ride with us and we'll sort out the vehicle situation tomorrow." Steve said to you.

"I have a shirt in the car you can change into. It'll do til we get to your place." Javi said.

You sat in the back seat on the ride home after the boys loaded your belongings into the trunk and resumed the drive home, Javier's sweatshirt engulfing you. They weren't thinking it, but being so used to having to defend your every action to get to where you are now you felt the need to say it.

"I'm not like this usually. It's just been a rough first day." You fiddled with the sleeves of the sweater that Javier had lent you.

"You don't have to explain anything to us." Javier said.

"I do, though." Your replied in a small voice, loud enough for them to both hear and they understood it. You wanted to feel inferior to them, your two new coworkers seeing you so vulnerable before you first official day, but you knew better. They brought your things into your apartment for you once arriving and you thanked them one more time before they were gone.

When you went in on your first day, brand new desk was pushed against the two that were so used to being a duo. You even already had a nickname. You went through stacks and stacks of files catching up on the details of the hunt so far and listening to Javier and Steve tell you stories of what they'd been through so far.

Javier was slowly becoming obsessed with the way you gave whoever you were speaking to your undivided attention, how your eyebrows furrowed in concentration or even how you used your pointer finger to scan the lines of a file. The tiniest things you did were intoxicating to him and he hated it. You caught him staring at you a few times and figured he was just once again, doubting your right to be sat at that desk.

The boys both became obsessed with you in their own way. Steve obsessed with the way you carried yourself in the field. You took charge and never took any ounce of shit from any man that would look down on you. He learned quickly that you were not one to be messed with. Javier was just obsessed.

Obsessed with how your hair framed your face, how you quite literally would stop and smell the flowers while on a job, how you said his name, or how he sometimes caught you stealing glances at him from your desk that was right next to his. How your hand looked as you scribbled down notes from the day, or how you sounded when speaking over the walkies, the look on your face when you were connecting dots. He obsessed over he way you laughed at the things he said and got jealous when you'd laugh at something Steve said. He loved how easily you fell into place between him and his partner Steve, like the two of them were missing you the entire time. He loved how quickly you picked up Spanish as a second language and how intelligent you were. How you embraced to culture of Colombia as your own and were able to so easily connect with the residents of Medellín. He was obsessed with your smile, your hands, the way your waist curved, he was fucking obsessed with the way you smelled. Even after sprinting across rooftops, he still loved your scent, it's like nothing to him about you was not worth obsessing over.

It was almost your one year anniversary of moving to Colombia when he kissed you for the first time. He drove you home after a long day at the office since your car was in the shop and was nice enough to walk you to the door. You knew he was into you, he was the worst at hiding it, even Steve would tell him to which Javier would reply, "I'm not into her and even if I was, I'm smooth, okay? She'd never know."

You did know. And you were into him too, but you wanted him to make the first move. He was so caught up with his informants half the time you didn't know if that would ever happen, so whenever he was ready, you'd be there. It irked you to say the least, that somebody else was getting those parts of him but there was nothing you could do.

But that night you two stood outside your front door, talking about your childhood homes and what you loved most about them, you dangling the keys between your fingers as he leaned against the frame and kissed you. His fingers were soft against your cheek and his lips sweet against yours and you didn't know he could be so gentle. You'd seen him kill people before yet here was kissing you as if you'd break under his touch.

"Good night, Javi." You said to him, as you stood on your tiptoes for one last kiss before disappearing into your home, the biggest smile on your face.

Your relationship was what some would call a slow burn. You took things slow, mostly because between the war on drugs neither of you had time to focus on and nurture a relationship. So you remained best friends and coworkers, alongside Steve who sometimes felt like a third wheel. When the two of you did finally find some spare time, things blossomed so quickly and beautifully and the man was head over heels. Steve had a hard time believing it, but he always knew that once Javi found the right one, he'd be 150% all in. Steve loved that it was you that brought out that side of him.

"Bambi, we're rolling out." Carillo said to you. Hearing the nickname is nothing new after all these years, but it still almost makes you laugh sometimes. Who knew having a deer sprint in front of you on your first day in Colombia would get you a call sign that stuck with you for the rest of your career.

"Yes sir." You nodded and stood up from your desk and gathered your things.

"No, no, you're not coming." Javier said.

"Excuse me?" There were very few things Javi did that pissed you off, but the one that did it most was when he tried keeping you from certain jobs.

"This is gonna get ugly and I don't want you there." He rested his hand on your elbow gently.

"You don't get to make that decision. I'm going and I'm monitoring the Search Bloc. This is the one thing I ask you not to do." You lowered your voice, looking up at him.

"And I don't do ever do this, but I don't like the feeling of this." He lowered his tone to match yours. "Por favor, mi sol." (Please, my sun.)

"Javier, don't ask me again." You pulled away from him and followed behind Carillo as you and the rest of the Search Bloc loaded into vehicles and began the journey to Tolú. He knew there was nothing he could say once you called him by his full name.

You and Javi barely spoke the entire ride to Tolú and it should be known that it was a long drive from Medellín. Even though you sat in silence, he still rested his hand on your leg, his thumb rubbing circles onto the fabric of your jeans.

When you stepped out of the vehicles upon your arrival you watched and counted the men that loaded into boats to cross the bay. The plan was to catch them from a direction they wouldn't expect. Javi was going with the aerial team which meant you were splitting up.

"Hey," he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to him. "Be careful."

"You too."

He would've said the right words if he knew what would happen once you parted ways. He would've said them a long time ago if he had known. He knew it in his gut as he watched you walk away and board the boat alongside Carillo and yet he still let you go. He should've kissed you one more time. It wasn't his right to stop you from going on a job and he knew that. He let you go because of those words that he didn't say.

You and the rest of the Search Bloc trekked through the sand and the thick trees of the jungle quietly, nobody speaking a sound, guns up and ready to fire. You surely looked out of place being the only woman amongst them. A few inches larger and the gun you were holding would've been too big for you to hold comfortably.

You came across two men and the gun fire started almost immediately. This was something you were used to and certainly planned for long before you even landed in Colombia. You knew that once the first shots were fired that Gacha would try to flee.

You held your ground until enough of his men had dropped and it felt safe to start moving in. Half of those men had probably never even fired a gun before this moment. You stayed next to Carillo, taking the first steps out from the treeline only for your body to be thrown through the air as a shot from a rocket launcher hit the ground near you causing a big explosion. Your gun slammed into your face sending a piercing pain through your nose. Your ears were ringing and your vision blurred when you opened your eyes, looking at your surroundings. You felt the blood trickling down the side of your head and tasted it as it leaked from your nose.

"Bambi, are you okay? Hey! Bambi!" You looked up at one of the Search Bloc members attempting to reach you. He pulled you up to which you groaned in pain, and looked to Carillo who also looked to have a head wound. The sound of the voices and gunfire were in and out as your ears kept ringing but you racked your brain trying to focus on what was happening.

"Sí. I'm okay." You sat up and watched Gacha and his son rush down the stairs and into a red chevy parked under the house while Carillo screamed for a radio. You only allowed your body to be in shock from the blow for only a split second more before the shock was filled with anger.

"Wait, Bambi. Wait!" You clenched your teeth together and stood up, repositioning your gun as you shot down multiple men running under the house screaming in frustration as the red chevy pulled off. You fired at the truck, no bullets hitting anywhere that would help stop them.

You fell forward to your knees feeling two shots fly through your shoulder and one through your abdomen from behind. You turned and fired your gun sending three bullets into his chest, falling onto your back once he hit the ground. Multiple men ran past your body, most likely trying to flee like their boss and eventually the gun fire stopped.

You felt somebody's arms hook under yours as they dragged you back to where Carillo was with the radio. He said something along the lines of Bambi... down... tell Javier... it was all a blur.

"He's down. We'll put the bird down and recoup." You heard Javi's voice over the radio, a small smile creeping on your lips. "What's the situation there, is it safe to land?"

Carillo hesitated as he looked down at you drenched in blood he wasn't sure was your own. He knew the blood coming from your head and ears were from the rocket launcher and he could tell you had been shot, he just didn't know where or how many times. Your vest clearly didn't do its job or somehow so unluckily each bullet managed to hit you in a place you weren't protected in.

"Safe to land. Make it quick." Carillo said cupping your cheeks, forcing your eyes to focus on him. The drowsy and somehow slightly smiley look on your face told him all he needed to know. "I need medics."

"They're already on the way. Where's Bambi, put her on." Javier's chest tightened immediately as if he knew. He felt it the second Carillo got on the radio instead of you, he knew it before you even made it into Tulo. His worst nightmare was becoming a reality. "Put Bambi on."

"Hey, stay with me." Carillo slapped your cheeks once your eyes started to close. "Talk to him." He tossed the walkie to Trujillo who began describing everything to Javi except for what state you were in. You could hear Javier's panicked voice flooding the speakers of the walkie sounding angrier than you had ever heard in the entire time you've known him.

"Put her on the fucking radio!" Javi yelled at Trujillo, he had tears brimming his eyes but he didn't dare let a single one spill. Anxiety was flooding his chest at the idea that you weren't okay, but he knew it from the second it happened. "Please tell me she's okay. Please." He begged.

"Trujillo, tell me she's alive. Tell me she's not dead. Please." Javi pleaded.

Everything was in and out of focus, men shuffling around you, Carillo and Trujillo saying your name over and over again, Carillo constantly slapping your cheeks to keep you awake. You hardly noticed that your vest had been pulled off and Carillo was working to keep pressure to your wounds, but you couldn't even tell where the wounds were at that point. You felt numb. Words weren't words anymore and instead just loads of gibberish filling your ears.

"Where are the god damn medics?" You heard Carillo curse. "We're not losing her."

When your surrounding came into focus once again, Javi was running towards you, taking Carillo's place, holding your body close to his.

"Hey, hey." He said with a shaky voice. "Hey, stay with me. Where are the fucking medics!"

"My love," you looked up at him, those words leaving your mouth for the first and maybe the last time, struggling to keep him focus. His brown eyes were filled with fear and that's when it became apparent to you how bad it was. You were shot three times. Everyone was panicking and it clicked that you were possibly dying.

It clicked for Javi that you were possibly dying. That this may be the last time he look into your eyes, or the last time he heard your voice. That when he woke up this morning could've been the last time he'd wake up to your beautiful sleeping face. Or that today would be the last day you two shared coffee from the same mug at work. Or even that Steve and Connie wouldn't have you for dinner this weekend like they promised. He began shaking his head, trying to rid these thoughts. You were drenched in blood like the night he found you on the side of the road, but this time it was yours and that made him feel physically sick.

Carillo was the only one at your sides now as Javi held you in his arms, tears still refusing to fall from his eyes. Everyone moved away to give space to the normally mean man who's love of his life was dying in his arms.

"Don't do this to me, please. Please, baby." He whispered into your hair. "Please, don't leave me."

"It doesn't hurt." You said to him, your hand barely finding his, squeezing it as tightly as you could manage.

"What?" He asked, bringing your fingers to his lips. He didn't care that they were covered in blood.

"It doesn't hurt." You repeated and all he could do was release a shaky breath.

"I love you," You whispered. Your thoughts were barely thoughts anymore but as you approached what seemed to be death, the only thing you thought about what how he needed to hear it from you before you died. You weren't even sure if he heard it and the last thing you thought of before shaking hands with death himself was that you never got to hear him say it to you.

"They're here." Carillo sighed in relief as the sirens from the ambulances sounded. "Peña."

Javi looked at Carillo who was staring at you, so he followed his gaze and it felt like his heart completely stopped beating. Your eyes were shut and there was blood dripping from the side of your mouth, joining the streams that had left your nose and side of your head.

"I love you." He said to you. "I love you." He said it again and then once more after that for good measure, praying to whoever would listen that you heard it at least once before you died because he was sure you were going to die and he hated himself for not saying it sooner.

He watched as they cut your shirt off of you and began working hastily simultaneously lifting you onto a stretcher and rolling you away into an ambulance.

Carillo put his hand on Peña's shoulder and looked at him. Despite the love his life being sent away, and not knowing if you'd survive this, there was still a job to finish. Carillo, Javi and the remaining men filed into trucks and drove to the scene up the road where Gacha and his son had died. Javi felt some sense of relief knowing that this was a big hit to the Medellín Cartel.

As soon as the scene was cleared Javier and Carillo went to the hospital you were being treated in and Javier called into Medellín and Bogota to let them know that you had been injured in the line of duty. Steve and Connie were on the next flight to Tolu from Medellín and there within hours. Carillo was talking to the doctors because Javier couldn't bear to hear the news that you were dead. It would kill him.

"She's out of surgery, in recovery. She's going to be okay. She's strong, they say. You can see her soon." Carillo said to Javier and he nodded, finally taking a seat in the waiting room chair.

"Good." He nodded again, finally covering his face with his hands as the tears he fought so hard to hold back finally spilled from his eyes.

Carillo sat next to him, patting him on the back as he cried silent tears of relief knowing that you had survived.

A few hours passed and Carillo had left to make his way back to Medellín so Javier was alone in the waiting room when the nurse called for him to see you.

"Hey," You said to him, your throat scratchy from the tube they had shoved down it. His heart hurt at the sight of you. Your arm in a sling, stitches in your temple, two small stitches in your nose, and a bruised face to prove that it was in fact broken. And somehow you still made all of that look beautiful.

"Mi sol," Javi whispered as he sat down next to your bed, taking your hand into both of his, kissing each of your fingertips. "I'm so sorry I let this happen."

"It's part of the job." You told him. "I made a mistake out of rage. It's my fault."

He stared at you, "I thought I lost you. They told me you died twice. Twice."

"I had something to fight for." You said, squeezing his hand.

"I am so sorry I didn't say it before and I'm not saying it now just because of the situation pero mi amor, I love you. So fucking much that it makes my chest hurt so bad that I feel like I can't breathe and when I lost you today I regretted not ever saying it to you before." He rambled on and you could subconsciously hear the monitor beeping faster as your heart rate went up. "I love you, mi amor. Mi Bambi. Mi sol."

"I love you too." You said to him and you never meant it more than in that moment after almost losing your life, accepting the idea you'd never see him again. Now that you'd been given a second chance you'd never miss the opportunity to say it again.

He leaned forward, brushing the hair from your face with the gentlest touch, and leaning in for the gentlest kiss being so careful not to hurt your nose or any other part of your body. His thumb rested on your chin as he held it so softly kissing you with such delicacy as if not to break you and it was the most favorite kiss you had shared to date.

Javier stayed with you and a week and a half later you were on a flight home to Medellín for the rest of your recovery period. Not long after that Javier moved in officially where he helped you recover and still stay sane in the midst of not being able to go out in the field. Your dad even came to visit after hearing the news where he met Javi for the first time.

When you were finally cleared to return and leave strictly desk work to re-enter the field, Javi kept you at his side more than usual to which you had to scold him sometimes but could he really help feeling so worried all the time? Nearly losing you was scariest thing he ever experienced in your life and gave him PTSD to which he still had nightmares about.

It took navigating and discussing and finding time between being work husband and wife to actually taking care of and paying attention to your very real and personal relationship, but you finally found the well deserved balance.

~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for the request! This was kind of fun to write and it was nice to write something after so long away

[pineappleciders]

(This is pretty embarrassing to ask but I’m a sad guy with sad feelings so) main omori characters(plus mari if you don’t count her)where they run in on reader trying to very quietly cry so nobody notices? You don’t have to add this but maybe reader cries harder when the character walks in - 🐗/evil twin

A/N: sorry it took so long evil twin i am a procrastinator . also sorey if sunny and basils parts suck i project my inability to comfort onto them. also projected my mommy issues during maris part ...

RW OMOGANG walking in on reader crying and trying to hide it

includes: SUNNY, AUBREY, KEL, HERO, BASIL, and MARI

SUNNY

when he first peeks in and sees the tears on your face, he definitely panicked

he's a little awkward so he might think about just quietly leaving, but he cares about you and can't just leave you like that

once you look up and notice him, his heart drops when you break out in a sob

he walks over to you and slowly sits down, hesitating to put his hand on your back. he's still kinda stiff and awkward though

he doesn't ask you to talk about it, he just sits there and waits for you to do your own thing. it doesn't matter if you just need a pat on the back or if you need to rant about something, he'll stay there for as long as you need

sunny has a hard time showing care, so the best he can do is listening and nodding his head. he is trying his best, and seeing as his love language is quality time, if you'd like you two go out for ice cream afterwards!!!

AUBREY

her immediate reaction is concern, and she thinks about slowly closing the door so you won't see her, but she'd feel far too guilty

she takes a few cautious steps in, gently calling your name and she kinda freaks out if you start to cry harder and hide your face

she's at your side, slowly sitting down on your bed and hovering her hand over yours before deciding against it and patting you on the back.

"hey, Y/N... what's wrong?"

her heart twinges with guilt when she sees you crying, despite not doing anything wrong. she tends to assume things are her fault!

she'll listen to you talk until you tire. aubrey really doesn't mind. she knows it all too well; the frustration of not being able to just rant and talk about yourself for once. she listens silently and slowly rubs your back as you speak through sobs

she's kinda scared to, but she ends up pulling you into a hug, burying her face in your neck.

"you don't have to hide it, y'know.. i'm here."

KEL

he waltzes into your room and stops in his tracks once he sees you crying.

"..Y/N?"

kel never likes seeing people cry. he's always been one to try and stay positive, but whenever someone else is upset or angry it always dampens his mood. he's such an empath

he'll step over to you, eyeing you carefully and playing with his fingers.

when you notice him and flinch a little, he flinches right back and waits for you to say something. but when all he's met with are sobs, he sits down next to you and immediately hugs you tightly.

it might've been more to comfort himself than you, as physical touch is sometimes a grounding method. i think seeing people emotional can get kel kind of..,,. disassociated??

he pulls away and looks at you in the eyes, asking what's wrong. he listens to you talk quietly, afraid that if he interrupts you might shut down and stop talking completely

he might try to crack more jokes the rest of the day, and definitely takes you out to gino's to get your favorite pizza and chat. he doesn't like seeinf anyone sad, especially not you!!!

HERO

hero lightly knocked on your door before letting himself in. usually, he was quite good at knocking, but every now and then he'd let the dad side of him slip and just lets himself into your room

it was mainly out of concern as to if you were okay, again another dad trait

you're in your bed, sniffling and breathing heavily, it goes almost unnoticed from outside the door.

"Y/N? what happened?" hero anxiously rushes to your bedside, and his heart shatters when you let out a loud sob when you see him

his first instinct is to engulf you in a hug, but he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, so he settles for standing there awkwardly and not knowing what to do with his hands

he ends up sitting down on your bed, putting his feet up and scooting closer to you, putting an arm around your shoulder. "hey, hey, it's alright. i'm here."

if you want to talk to him about your feelings, he gladly listens, nodding and validating whatever you say with little 'yeah' and 'yup's

he makes u your favorite home-cooked meal afterwards to cheer you up, and lets you know you can always come to him for help. he also ruffles ur hair

BASIL

basil has a hard time with feelings. he feels so much of them, but they're so hard to get out and deal with.

he cracks the door open and pops his head in. "Y/N? you okay?"

he sees you curled up in your sheets in bed, and immediately grows concerned, opening the door wider.

"..Y/N?" he stands awkwardly at the door, fidgeting and trying to see your expression.

you look up and see him, and you quickly bury your face into your covers and cry harder. he grows panicked, and speed walks to your side, hesitating to sit down on the bed.

"oh, Y/N.. what.. what's wrong?" he inches closer, slowly taking your hand in his shaky one, rubbing it with his thumb.

basil is a great listener, and he hears you out intently on everything you have to say. he tries to speak comforting words, but they come out as somewhat robotic. he's trying. he truly means the words though!

basil gives you a quick, warm hug and pulls back, smiling softly. "do you want to see the others? they're outside." his friends always cheer him up, so he assumes it's the same for you

MARI

mari wants nothing more than to put a smile on everyones face. so when see walks in on you crying quietly, her sisterly instincts kick in

she rushes to your side and immediately sits on the bed, placing her hand over yours and speaking soothing words.

"hey, it's alright, Y/N. i'm right here." she rubs your hand with her thumb. "let's talk about it, yeah?"

she keeps her hand in yours when you speak, and shooshes you and coos if you start to sob or have a hard time speaking.

she reassures you, and gives you a little pep talk

"you're the strongest kid i know, Y/N. look at you, standing straight and tall after everything. be happy about how far you've come!"

she's incredibly understanding and does anything you want to do afterwards. bake cookies, have a picnic, hang out with your friends. she's very attentive, so she'll pay extra attention to make sure you're doing alright!

[dark-frosted-heart]

Sariel Noir 2nd Birthday Story

Well better late than never

Like with Clavis' 2nd birthday story, I'm going to try to combine both POVs. This time, Sariel's parts are in purple

Mildly nsfw

After getting ready for the day, Sariel places a kiss on MC's forehead. MC always found herself sad when her and Sariel's "private time" ended. And the signal just made it all the more obvious as it marked the transition from being lovers to boss and subordinate. And because of the latter position, their relationship had to be kept a secret (though all the princes except Yves are aware of their relationship, but MC doesn't about any of know this.).

Sariel in turn thinks of how much he could benefit from having status for moments like this. After giving the ending signal, he notices the look on MC's face.

Sariel tells MC to come to his office later, but she's distracted by her thoughts. He calls her name and she snaps out of it, apologizing and then saying she'll come by with morning tea. Maybe it was a good thing that Sariel didn't have a different title, else he'd be constantly wanting her. Sariel thanks her and asks her not to rush since they'll have some time to spare. MC bids him farewell and leaves his room, still sad. Loneliness creeps into her heart as she recalls the night they had spent together. She believes that she's becoming selfish and then tries to pull herself together by slapping her cheeks.

As Sariel heads to his office, he smells something sweet from the kitchen. When he recalls the moment when MC asked him what the best thing he had receive on his birthday was, he wasn't able to give her an answer because she had work. His answer would have been receiving a "birthday" from the princes and the previous king. Sariel has a flashback to when the previous king brought up celebrating his birthday. It was something a servant had overheard the princes discussing. But Sariel didn't know his birthday and asked what the king really wanted since he should've been aware of that fact. The King chuckled and told Sariel to stop scowling before saying that he could pick a day if he didn't have one. The two came to a silent agreement on a date, the day the king took Sariel in. Sariel laughs at the memory and how he had treated the king. Though he had taught the princes manners, his own attitude toward the king back then was pretty bad. This gift wasn't really something he wanted to tell MC since it'd likely worry her. Besides, there was a gift that only she can give him. And as the devil, he wanted it.

That morning, MC runs an errand for Sariel and as she walks back to the castle, her thoughts drift to him. It's almost his birthday and she wants to get him a gift. She too remembers the time she had asked Sariel about his best birthday present. MC wonders if he'll eat cake if she bakes one since he doesn't have a sweet tooth. Maybe something that can pair with alcohol... Her eyes zoom in on something she sees on display at a store. It's the perfect gift, but MC's reminded of the fact that their relationship's currently a secret. She hesitates.

A few days later, Sariel's exiting Chevalier's personal library. In the hall, people are scrambling about, setting up a party for the next day. Though he was supposed to attend the party, plans have changed and he has some "cleaning up" to do. Sariel finds himself wondering if he should go tell MC himself or leave a note in his office. With a bitter smile, he decides on the latter. Probably so that he wouldn't have to see her worried face with hints of disappointment.

The next day arrives and it's Sariel's birthday as well. MC will be helping out at the party night but hopes that there will be enough time after it ends to celebrate Sariel's birthday. Of course, she wants to celebrate with him as his lover, but she's never been the one to initiate the signal. Arriving at Sariel's office, she finds it empty. But there's a note on his desk.

That evening at the party, Sariel's once again nowhere to be found. Though it's nothing unusual since the man's always so busy. She focuses back on the party since with Sariel absent, she'll have to take over his job of watching over everyone and gathering info. Suddenly, something cold touches her shoulder and she can't help but yelp. MC's greeted by Jin who saw her nice figure from behind and mistook her for a woman he could flirt with. The prince offers her a drink and tells her not to work too hard. Nokto then appears and agrees, as well as saying that she should enjoy herself. And to relax, gesturing to the spot between her brows. MC says she's fine, but she was not fine at all.

Meanwhile, the smell of blood permeates throughout a room with expensive-looking furniture. Sariel's just finished taking care of a noble's personal guards. The noble himself sits in his chair, stunned. Sariel asks for the man to sign a contract and the noble complies, trembling. Sariel warns him not to break his deal again.

Sariel leaves the mansion and looks to catch a carriage back to the castle. He hadn't killed any of the guards this time around because he had to meet up with MC, who was taking care of the party all by herself, after this. Plus he knew that she wouldn't forget about the fact that it was his birthday today. As it starts to rain, something makes Sariel feel uneasy. And his bad feelings were usually right.

At the same time, MC runs out into the rain after a nobleman who had left something behind at the party. She manages to spot his carriage and calls out to him. The man, drunk, apologizes for the trouble and then grabs her wrist, inviting her to his carriage to wait out the rain. MC shakes him off and excuses herself. Shaken by the encounter, she runs to the garden. Cold and ashamed of herself, tears start to well up in her eyes. In the distance, Sariel calls her name. After getting out of his carriage, he had headed straight to the garden. While she didn't want him to see her in this pathetic state, she's more relieved at the fact that he's here. Sariel, on impluse, covers her with his coat before pulling her into his arms. The sense of security makes her cry.

Sariel brings MC back to his room and prepares a bath to warm her up. As MC's taking a bath, he gets an idea of what had happened based on what he knew. He will sure that the noble never steps foot into court ever again. After her bath, she can't put her soaking wet dress back on, but she also can't just go back to Sariel's room in just a towel. She decides to put on Sariel's coat. Back in his room, MC tells Sariel that she'll wash his coat and return it to him later. He tells her not to worry about it and gestures for her to sit next to him on the bed. After taking her seat, she notices on the clock that the day's almost over, which means Sariel's birthday's almost over. She didn't want to celebrate it like this, but she still wanted to wish him a happy birthday. And then apologizes for always being indebted to him because he always has to take care of her in some way. Sariel can tell that this wasn't how MC wanted his birthday to go. But having her by his side at this moment was more than enough for him. Her love was the greatest gift of all. But that wasn't something obvious to MC, so he tries the devil's approach.

Sariel says that there's something he would like right now. For MC to initiate their "private time". She's nervous and feeling shy, but manages to reach out and touch his cheek, signaling the start of their "private time". Sariel takes her hand and kisses her fingertips while asking how she feels being the one to initiate this time. She feels herself heat up at his actions. Her face is so red that it's even noticeable in the dark. MC asks him not to look at her and looks down to hide her face, but the man just lets out a sadistic chuckle.

He pulls her onto his lap, her back facing him. Pulling the coat down, he presses soft kisses from her neck to her back. Perhaps having her face away from him is better because if he saw her expressions, he'd want to ravage her relentlessly. When MC tries to cover her mouth, he removes her hand and tells her to let it all out. No one else will hear her. She's in the devil's evil clutches now and he'll be feasting on her tonight. Sariel's touches along her skin are driving her crazy, yet there's still one area that he's left untouched. Until it's not. As they make love he tells MC that she can hold him tighter.

Afterward as they lie in bed, Sariel stroking MC's head, he says MC now knows how to use the signal, but MC replies that tonight was just special. Sariel disagrees. His present from her is her learning to initiate their "private time". He looks forward to her doing so in the future. Embarrassed, MC buries her face in his chest. But thinking about it, maybe Sariel noticed all the times when she felt sad when their time together as lovers was over (he did). She looks up at him and confesses that she feels like she's the one getting a present. Seeing the love in her eyes, he tells her that her look of satisfaction is also a present to him. The two kiss and kiss. MC will give him his gift in the morning, a pair of drinking glasses for lovers. If keeping their relationship a secret leads to unwanted advances toward MC, then maybe their relationship should be public. But MC would be the one receiving the most criticism. To prevent this...the devil's got some work to do. On this night, Sariel vows to love MC however much he wants and desires to.

[ronearoundblindly]

Rone! My last weeks have sucked major ass. I had to put down one of my sweet cat babies who I was so attached to, she was mi baby and I her human. Then my son ends up with Covid a week before his musical show in which he’s a lead, and now I’m don’t with pneumonia and maybe Covid. Is there any way my fluffy Steve or Jake Jensen, or Colin Shea would comfort me? I’m sick of crying 💙

I'll try my best here, but note that I am attempting this while a tension headache rages, preventing me from sleeping for most of the night and morning.

Warnings for some maybe gross mentions of sickness things and dirty humor. You know you expected it; be real. No clue what the word count is and there has been absolutely no attempt at editing because I am le tired.

It's bad. It's just all bad.

You can't stop whining and breathing out these dramatic heavy sighs, but you don't care because it's all bad. This feels like your body, mind, and soul are all dying and fighting for who gets to go first...

...and they all want a prize and attention for their troubles.

Welp. Fuck you, mind, body, and soul. There's your prize. Eat me.

This is apparently them saying 'yes' to that challenge.

Normally, Jake works with his gigantic headphones on (when he's home), and since you can't hear him and can't remember whether or not he kissed you goodbye this morning (because maybe you're remembering yesterday or a week ago in your fever state), you just assume he isn't there or cannot hear you.

It's fine. You're strong. You don't need to ruin his day. You can take care of yourself.

Meds. Meds first.

Nope.

You crash land right out of the bed, smooshed between the frame and the wall. Maybe you can make this work. You sink into the fetal position to regain some composure before trying again.

"Jesus, baby, are you okay?"

Shit. He's home.

Your groaned attempt at 'm' fine' comes out like a death knell. Oh yeah, that'll get him back to work right away.

His arms are under you in seconds, but instead of just placing you back on the covers, he sits and cradles you while you cough.

"What all hurts?"

It's not until you open your mouth to answer and taste salt that you realize you're crying, but that just makes you more upset and cough again.

"Okay. Okay," he soothes, "I got you." Jake kisses your forehead and audibly hisses at the temperature. "Hang on. Let me just..."

He calls his team to make sure they know he'll be in and out of communication for a while. Afterward, he shuffles about the bed dressings and tucks you into a little makeshift nest, knowing you may stubbornly try to leave again.

Jake brings over a Powerade and the entire medicine cabinet in his meaty arms, proceeding to ask you about every possible symptom and weed through any meds to help you. The bottle is nearly gone by the time you swallow it all, so he gets another while fetching the thermometer.

"Oof, so hot, babe."

Nope, Jake, it very much hurts to laugh. Please rein in your Jensenness for the foreseeable future.

Shockingly, he does no such thing.

He gathers every pillow and blanket in the house, even grabbing your son's Star Wars comforter. It smells like your boy as you tuck it up to your chin and settle your head on Jake's thigh. He's brought his laptop into bed so you can snuggle while he monitors your fever.

"What about Bryce?" You can barely form the words.

"Called my sister. She'll pick BJ up at three and have a playdate. Take him to the Petunias' game tonight if needed."

Jake smiles. Leave it to him to ensure your kid is semi-named after a sex act. The bastard knows he's too adorable to say no to, and Bryce is just the same. It's awful. You love them so much.

And then Python attacks your feet twitching beneath all the covers.

What once was a scraggly kitten found proudly hunting a garter snake in your backyard has become a fat and happy lap cat...who will absolutely murder anything that wiggles.

You already had a BJ in the household, so no, Jake was not going to get away with calling the sweet--if vicious--grey tabby 'Anaconda.' There have to be some standards in this place.

There are no standards in this place.

"Hey, cutie," Jake mumbles, petting down your sweaty hair. You must have fallen asleep again. "Time for a re-up."

He gingerly feeds you the meds and more sports drink, offering some dry toast that you get a few bites of before the room spins a little and you give up.

Suddenly, you're on fire and all the covers must go away. Python chirps her annoyance at being buried momentarily before she just burrows right back in.

After another rest, Jake exclaims--far too loudly--that your fever's heading down, but you still feel very rough. Once he raps up one more call with Clay, confirms that Bryce will stay for the game, and hauls over the rest of the Powerade case to share, your big, burly man-child puts on 'Must Love Dogs' like you've done dozens of times before.

He laughs and cries with you, eventually slouching all the way down so that your head now rests on his chest, tucked under his chin.

Jake checks his watch before shifting to you excitedly. "Hey, you wanna do some more drugs?"

You groan out a less painful laugh than earlier and take the pills.

The credits roll and Jake scoops you up.

"Sorry, honey, where are my manners?! I've been with you all day and you're still not naked. Can't believe you put up with me..."

He sits you on the dressing bench by the bath as it runs, putting too much of too many good-smelling things in the water, and it's perfect. Jake takes his time to delicately peel off your sleepwear which you sorta want to burn now. He's an angel. He's too nice. The standards in this house are set way too high by him, and damn it, you're gonna cry--nope, you're already crying again.

Jake lets you soak while he texts his sister, showing you all the little videos of Bryce having the time of his life watching his cousin and kicking around a spare soccer ball with another player's little brother.

"I can work on his form," Jake mutters. "Oh! Look at that! See, I taught her the headbutt." He taps his screen excitedly while the streak of his niece races down the field. "Taught her that...."

Big goofball is all the family you could ever want, but he's an amazing uncle and father, too. Even though you're sick, you love these peaceful moments alone with him.

You feel that vice-grip of tension float away in the steam. Slowly, your body refills with you instead of aches and pain. You close your eyes while Jake giggles and shares terrible memes and jokes from his team. Your eyes finally open when he presses the back of his fingers to your neck, checking.

"Better?"

"Who are you," you whine.

"Hardy-har--" Jake stands from his spot on the bath mat "--you're not clammy anymore at least."

"That's what a hot nurse is for."

He doesn't engage with your antics, and instead grabs two big fluffy towels to set within your reach. "I'll go pick up BJ."

You stretch out like Python (except she wouldn't be caught dead in the water).

"Oh good, because then you'll come home to a BJ."

Jake snorts, shoving his fogging glasses up his nose, a tinge of pink creeping above the collar of his graphic tee.

"You're sick."

You wiggle your eyebrows and shimmy your breasts in the water, finally feeling a bit more human. "Yeah, baby. You love it."

"You know I do," Jake says solidly, kissing your very wet forehead before rubbing his goatee across your cheek.

There's no pain in the laughter this time. You're on the mend now. All is well in the Jensen Household of Total Loons, or it's getting there, in its weird Jensen way.

There is no option to not put terrible puns and dirty humor into a life with Jake Jensen. There just isn't. Fight me.

Hope this makes you feel better, dearie.

As my two fur babies have tried to impart kitty-power on me all day, I am so sorry to hear about your wee one. I'm sure she knew she was loved until to end and still very much is. I also hope you and your son recover quickly. Hopefully, he'll be ready for the stage in no time at all!

[dilucids]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLove Letters, Genshin Impact

their reactions to you receiving love letters.

includes: diluc, venti, ningguang and beidou

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 DILUC RAGNVINDR ━━ DARKNIGHT HERO 〕

━━ the first one wouldn't bother him at all, he'll simply look over your shoulder, ask you what it was and shrug it off, having trust in your relationship.

━━ if the writer persists, he'll get a little iffy with it and will read it over your shoulder as you do as well.

━━ he'll let the words of this secret admirer sink into his brain, disgusting words that were sickeningly sweet and he swears that it doesn't bother him.

━━ but it does, the way that someone else is also admiring all your traits, or has a note on all your little habits that may not be cute in the eyes of others but is absolutely endearing to him ( and this new person apparently ).

━━ and then he wonders if you're into this type of romantic thing, things that he can't indulge in for you, like sweet letters for you to wake up to every morning that write about you like a passage from 'romeo and juilet', talking about how your beauty makes him undone.

━━ he swears it still doesn't bother him at all when more and more letters come in and kaeya delivers them from the headquarters with that knowing look on his face.

━━ but he gets a little more attentive; he'll watch you do the most boringest of things, he'll use a softer tone when reading to you before bed, he'll give into your scoldings sooner than the usual, he'll make his kisses sweeter and last a little longer, he'll even let you play with his hair and tangle flowers in it; anything to make sure you know that he loves you and all your little quirks just as much as that secret admirer.

"You okay?" You crane your neck back to ask Diluc, who currently had a hold of your waist, pushing his face into the crook of neck. He hums, his paperwork left all over his desk with fresh ink washed over the page, in little underlines, arrows and smaller notes by the side. He had just finished another stack of the seemingly never-ending paperwork, finding little rest with you in his arms.

A knock destroys your delicate mood and you can tell Diluc isn't in the mood to answer to anyone's knock, Kaeya's in particular, judging by the knocking pattern. "You can come in, Kaeya," you call out.

He comes in with the regular pink envelope, "your secret admirer is so dedicated to you," he teases and his eye picks up on the way that Diluc slightly tightens his arms around your waist so he grins. "Don't tease, Kaeya," you warn albeit rather insincerely, as you pick up the envelope placed upon the desk.

"Are you leaving?" You raise an eyebrow, pausing the action of opening the envelope when Kaeya makes no move to leave. He shrugs, finding that the very small rise that he got out of Diluc should be enough until he sees him again and leaves the two of you in silence, closing the door behind him.

Opening the letter, you feel Diluc remove his face from your neck, placing his chin on your shoulder as you open another letter. "What day is it now?" He asks with distaste, seeing the same slanted, upright handwriting on the piece of paper.

"Now, now. It's rather amusing."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 VENTI ━━ WINDBORNE BARD 〕

━━ wouldn't bother him, at all.

━━ the first letter would come and he'll find the contents kinda amusing since this person is kinda trash at poems ( i guess when you're venti, any poem compared to yours would be ).

━━ would find it very funny ( would pocket the letter so he could show and do a dramatic reading of it to dvalin later ).

━━ unlike diluc however, he'd jokingly use it to get more affection from you.

━━ so everytime he saw you skimming through the letter uninterested, he'd pout a little, impatiently tap his foot and let out a quiet huff ( maybe even make the wind pick up a little ); anything to make you think that he was jealous so that you'd redirect his attention onto him.

━━ does things like point out grammatical mistakes or rephrases their sentences into a better flowing sentence whilst reading over your shoulder with a jealoused look on his face.

━━ it works, obviously. you end up ditching the letter, always leaving them half read to tend to venti. he denies when you make the claim but has it written all over his face as you remind him that you're all his.

━━ basically, venti malewife, mansplain, manipulate.

Venti peers over your shoulder, leaning on your arm with a small yet obvious pout on his face. You try to ignore his expression as you read the letter, though it becomes harder when he begins to read out passages of the letter, cheesy passages when you were compared to an angel from heaven that was sent down to enlighten the earth, in a high-pitched, mocking voice.

You'd laugh it off, finally peering at Venti's jealous ruse and ditch the letter. "Is my little Archon jealous?" You'd tease him, taking ahold of his cheek to redirect his gaze onto you, you think you're the one in control right now but oh, he's literally had this planned since you've seen your name on the envelope in swirly handwriting and a heart right next to it. Surprisingly, music isn't the only performing arts Venti is good at as he huffs, pushing out his lower lip and never looking you in the eyes.

"I'd never leave you for someone who doesn't know how to spell 'gorgeous', my dear," you wrap your arm around his waist as he was sat on the armrest of your chair and he does nothing but sink into your arms, sliding into your lap so you were carrying him like a baby, his legs thrown over the other armrest and head pressed against you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 NINGGUANG ━━ ECLIPSING STAR 〕

━━ would see it as a challenge. like venti, would be slightly amused when she sees it.

━━ like, someone really thinks they can challenge her for you? L, that person's gonna have a lot on their plate by the end of it.

━━ would take immediate action after the first letter, even if you asked her not to, she'd do it behind your back.

━━ she literally has a floating mansion, i don't think anyone is in the position to challenge or stop her.

━━ would organise a "meeting" with said admirer to establish a few rules and consequences that would be enforced if any of those rules were to be broken.

━━ letters stopped right after the first one.

"This letter is for you," she trails off, handing you a letter that was pink and decorated in little hearts in all different colours. You quirk an eyebrow, planting yourself on her desk as Ningguang watches curiously as you tear open the envelope and unfold the contents. Your eyes scan the letter, injesting the words with a straight face, eyebrows furrowing.

"Is there something wrong?" You hum, turning the letter around to be met with a blank side and check the envelope for the sender again. "Just," you pause, unsure how to start, "do you know who sent this?"

She stares at you with a raised eyebrow, "no, it was placed on my desk when I arrived," taking the letter out of your hand, she scanned the contents. Her lips quirk and eyebrows move in amusement as she brings up her hand to cover her laugh.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ〔 BEIDOU ━━ UNCROWNED QUEEN OF THE OCEAN 〕

━━ would be happy for you.

━━ don't know how but she would somehow be happy for you.

━━ since beidou is used to getting praise from younger members of youth, when she finds you reading a letter of praise, she'll also feel happy for you since you're always reading over her shoulder when she gets one with a pout. ( she thinks you're jealous of her???? )

━━ would literally pat you on the back and say well done with a hearty laugh.

━━ she'd ask to read it and everything, and would find pride in herself that other people could see all the things that she saw in you, like how your imperfections meant nothing, how your habits were the cutest thing ever.

━━ not a single jealous bone in her body when she sees it which is kinda endearing in her own way??

"What 'ave you got there?" Beidou's natural booming voice causes you to jump slightly, making you turn around and hide the letter behind your back as you scratch your cheek, you probably shouldn't show her a love letter from someone else.

"Just a letter," you wave off with a laugh but she's already behind you, with the letter in her hand and eyeing it's contents. You watch nervously as she reads your letter, scared of her reaction but she smiles━━ a full toothy grin where her amazingly white teeth are all on display.