#odd that he wrote the month as 3 and not as |||

[captivating-flavors]

date | zayne

pairing: zayne x non mc actress!reader

prompt: -

summary: you did your own stunt but it went wrong.

words: 1,785

warning(s): mentions of loss

a/n: inspired by this hc by @sylusonychinus and valentines day also i think i have to preface this by saying that english is not my first language and my laptop broke down so this is poorly edited and.... yeahh enjoy <3 reblogs, comments and feedbacks are much appreciated since its been a while since i wrote anything

It was supposed to be a simple stunt; that’s why the Director even allowed you to do it in the first place. You were supposed to jump of the railing, with a harness attached of course, but accidents happen and you ended up having to land earlier than the timing agreed beforehand. You didn’t have enough experiences with stunts, therefore you panicked and landed on the wrong position.

“I’m fine, Tara.” You said as you were holding an icebag against your right foot.

“What do you mean you’re fine? Your ankle is purple and swollen!”

“The standby medic said it was fine. You didn’t need to call for a freaking doctor.” You knew Tara, you best friend and assistant, meant well but calling for a doctor over a sprained ankle is just way too dramatic.

“No, but what if it doesn’t heal right? Or what if–”

“Don’t be so dramatic. I’m pretty sure Dr. Greyson, who’s a heart doctor mind you, has other and more important things to do than tend to a sprained ankle, don’t you think?”

Tara had been dating Greyson for the past few months and it’s not the first time Tara has called him over for you. She did that once when you got a fever after shooting a scene in the rain and another time when you caught a stomach bug.

“He’s a cardiac surgeon–”

“Exactly, my point why would he–”

“Also, that’s not who I called.”

“Wait, what? Then, who’d you–”

At that exact moment, the door to your trailer swung open and Dr. Zayne, the Dr. Zayne, walked in carrying a small white bag.

“Wait, Dr. Zayne? What– Why are you here?”

“I heard from Tara that you got into an accident. What happened?” Zayne looked frantic, a detachment to what you’re used to seeing from him, calm and composed.

You were about open your mouth, to tell him that it was not a big deal and to just go back to the hospital, when Tara interjected, “She fell, sprained her ankle and now it’s swollen. You should–”

“Miss Tara, could you please come to the Director’s tent? Thank you.” The walkie-talkie snapped onto Tara’s waistband interrupted her.

“I have to go. Thanks for coming Dr. Zayne.” Tara said before she left the trailer, leaving the two of you alone.

Zayne walked over to your chair and knelt in front of you, taking your right foot in his hands, examining the swollen area of your ankle. You winced as he tilts your foot from one side to another.

“It’s fine. It’s not a big deal. The medic said it’ll heal in a few weeks. You must be pretty busy so you should head back, Dr. Zayne.”

“I told you to call me Zayne.” He said as he grabbed a compression wrap from his bag and started wrapping it around your ankle.

He did tell you that the last time you guys met, when you came over to the hospital to give him coffee and visit the kids two months ago.

The two of you have somewhat of an odd relationship. You first met him at a fundraising event held by a charity specializing in helping children in need to get treatments and surgeries for Protocore Syndrome two years ago. Where the two of you had a meaningful conversation about wanting to help those with the disease, whilst also keeping the memory of the ones you’ve lost. Your sister and his childhood best friend.

And then there’s Tara and Greyson. Tara would visit him during the monthly filming breaks and more often than not you’d come with her. At first, you only tagged along to do somewhat-of-a-research for an upcoming project that you’ll be filming in eight months, in which you were cast as the lead in a medical romcom. At some point, the hospital visits got boring because you would only sit on the lounge as to not intrude on Tara and Greyson’s time together, and observe the doctors as they rush through the halls to tend to their patients.

On your visits, you rarely ever encountered Zayne. Greyson had mention that whenever he’s not in surgery, he prefers to spend his free time in his office. Until one day, you were sitting on one of the seats in the lounge, doing your usual people watching routine when you saw him.

“Dr. Zayne, what a lovely surprise.”

“Likewise, Miss Y/N.” He responded, as polite and curt as ever, continuing to stride towards the nurse station a few feet away from your seat. You felt that it was nice to see a somewhat familiar face because the observation had just gotten boring, since it does not seem like a busy day at the hospital.

“I told you, just Y/N is fine. I never see you around during my previous visits.”

“So, what brings you here,” he pauses, before continuing, “Y/N?”

“Tara wanted to see Greyson and I agreed to come along since I needed a breather from the scripts, rehearsing and all that. Oh, and I’ve also been taking notes of how doctors act and work, you know, for a project.”

“I see.”

He turns his attention to the nurse behind the station desk, “Hello, Yvonne.”

“Good morning, Dr. Zayne. I assume you’re here for the treats?”

“Yes.”

The nurse grabbed a small jar of what seemed to be candy and hands it over to him, “Here you go.”

“Thank you."

“So, what are you up to, Dr. Zayne?”

“I’m visiting my younger patients over at the kids’ ward.”

“Oh, that's so sweet of you, Dr. Zayne.”

He hesitated for a moment before saying, “Would you like to join me?”

“Alright, why not?”

You tagged along and got on to the elevator behind him, him pressing the sixth-floor button.

“So, you’re just going to hand them candies?”

“Yes. To cheer them up as they recover, I suppose.”

The two of you arrived at the sixth-floor and got off the elevator to a hallway of rooms, all of them filled with kids and their families as they recover. You follow behind Zayne as he approaches the first of the beds, where a young girl, probably seven or eight, sits up.

“Hello, Eleanor.”

“Hi, Doctor Zayne.” The child says cheerfully.

“How are you feeling today? Does anything hurt?” He asks as he places the end of his stethoscope over the girl’s heart and she shakes her head in response.

“Have you been taking your medicine regularly?”

“Yes, but they taste awful.” The child grimaces.

“Here’s your reward for listening to your doctor well and it might help with the bitterness.” He hands the kid two pieces of wrapped candy.

“Thank you, Doctor Zayne! But, Doctor, why is the Princess of Solon behind you?” Eleanor questioned, referring to your character from your latest movie.

“Well, she’s here to cheer you up.” He says as he nudges you forward.

“Hello, Eleanor.” You said, putting on your princess voice.

And that was the start to your somewhat tradition with Zayne. The two of you would come to the kids’ ward, he’d check on their progress, give them their rewards and you’d talk and take pictures with them. It was refreshing to see that there was actually a warmer side to Zayne, as opposed to the polite and curt side he always seemed to project.

“That was fun. We should do that again.”

“I agree. The kids were infinitely happier in the presence of the Princess of Solon.”

And that became a regular thing. Every time you had your monthly breaks, the two of you would spend the day at the hospital chatting and playing with the kids. It just became a regular way for you to spend the day or two off each month you got it. You also managed to feel somewhat closer to Zayne through the days spent together, as you genuinely enjoyed spending the day with him. Seeing him interact with the kids and care so much about more than just their physical well-being made you admire him even more.

But despite being able to act warmly towards the children, whenever it was just the two of you it felt like he’d go back and forth from his warm side to his regular curt self. He’d open up a little bit, do little things that makes your heart race like remember your exact coffee order and have it ready by the time you came by, but then he’d shut down again, going back to his distant self. But you still looked forward to seeing him and spending the day with him each break.

A gentle pressure against your foot brought you back to the present.

“Well, you did. But you’re always so…”

His voice from your last meeting two months ago rang in your head.

“You know, you can just call me Zayne.”

“I hope to hear it the next time we meet.”

He looked up at you, “So what?”

“Formal? I don’t think that’s the right word. I don’t know. You always seem so close but distant at the same time that it kind of sounds weird to just say your name like... Zayne.”

He stopped, never taking his eyes off yours, “Say that again.”

“Zayne.”

He shifted his gaze back down and continued to wrap the bandage over your ankle, putting slight pressure against the adhesive, making you wince. And you swore that his ears were red.

“There. You should be fine in about two weeks as long as you don’t move too much.”

“Thank you. But really, you didn’t have to come all this way for a sprained ankle. It didn’t even hurt, much.”

“I didn’t come for a sprained ankle. I came for you.”

That was not the response you expected from him, “…What?”

“I was worried when I heard from Tara that you’d gotten into an accident. I wanted to come and see for myself that you were alright. And you haven’t been to the hospital in a while. The kids missed you.”

“Yeah, about that. I haven’t gotten a day off in the past two months since they’re reshooting some of the scenes and–”

“Also, I missed you. And I’d rather not wait for another accident to see you.”

“I– What?” To say you were baffled by the confession would be an understatement.

“Let’s have dinner instead. When you’re all better, of course.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yes.” You chuckled, amused at despite how confident and blunt he sounded, yet you could see the entire time that his ears were red.

“...Alright, then. Let’s set a date once I’m doing better,” you paused to smile at him, “Zayne.”

[nerdyhistoryenjoyer]

Letter sent to Wilfrid Blunt, poet and writer, by T. E. Lawrence. Dated 2nd of March 1921

Dear Mr Blunt

It's very good of you to have written to me. I'm only sorry that the short time will not let me come + see you, or write to you properly. We start tomorrow, or later this morning for Cairo, for that odd conference, when I'll either get my way or reign — or even do both things!

It's the Colonial office: Winston is a new and very keen mind on the Middle East business , + I hope will take it the right way. It's a very great chance given me.

Yours sincerely TELawrence

[green-butterfly-writes]

Little Thief (Part 3)

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Batman is confused. Elsewhere, a fox has dinner with a social worker.

Trigger Warning for starvation and animal/child abuse. Read at your own risk.

I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so spelling mistakes are likely to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I have a question about the report you submitted last Tuesday.”

“What is it, father?” Damian stopped sharpening his blade and looked up at Bruce, still in his cowl from patrol.

“Could you please explain this… Fox… you wrote about?” He asked, carefully picking his words.

“What about it?”

The cave was filled with silence as they stared each other down. Bruce contemplated how to proceed. 

“Damian, foxes can’t do these things. They can’t understand human speech to the degree you described, they don’t exchange food for services, they can’t point you to the joker.”

“Are you calling me a liar father?” Damian snipped back.

Bruce didn’t answer.

“I didn’t lie,” Damian seethed through clenched teeth, “You can ask Grayson if you don’t believe me. But I did not lie.”

Bruce contemplated that reaction. Perhaps it wasn’t just a ploy to get a new pet. “Foxes can’t do those things,” he repeated, a silent question hanging in the air.

“I know.”

~~~~

Jason did not yelp. He did not jump and definitely did not scream like a 5 year old watching a horror movie. In fact he did not react at all when he walked into his safe house, turned on the light, and heard the gravelly voice of the 6 foot tall hell beast behind him calling his name. Nope. Not a single reaction. Not even a flinch. Totally. Definitely. 

Which is why Bruce’s current expression is completely unwarranted. It was the expression he made when Jason ate 5 plates of pancakes in one sitting two months into living with him. It was the expression he made when Jason lost his tooth naturally for the first time — rather than in a fight. It was the expression he made when Jason cried over a bruised knee when learning how to ride a bike. It was the expression he made when Cass fell asleep against him during a movie, close and comfortable. It was the expression he made when Stephanie would show off a new skill she learned or hobby she picked up. It was the expression he made when Tim would show off his photos, or when Babs would take a break to read a new book. It was the expression he made when Damian would ask for a play date, or Dick would show off new clothes. It was the expression he made when his kids, his family, acted like normal people, and not vigilantes burdened with a fight they could never win. And there was no reason for him to make that awful, soft, sappy, expression now because Jason did not scream.

“The fuck you want?” Jason snapped (because he was upset about being intruded upon, and definitely, totally not because he was embarrassed about squealing like a little girl. Which is something he did not do, by the way.)

“I wanted to ask you about something,” his voice was clear and stern, but still held concern and care.

Jason tilted his head toward Bruce, urging him to continue. “Damian wrote a report I found… odd. It was about your informant,” That idiotic fool “I was hoping you could clarify something.” 

Jason signed, he’d reem the little twerp later, and plopped himself down on the ratty once-beige couch. “Alright. Shoot.”

~~~~

The clothes were itchy. Unbelievably so. They were baggy, but the intentional kind. The kind that hid how malnourished you were, rather than highlighting it. They were new, unwashed, ugly, and would likely be returned the next day, if the tag digging into your back was any indication.

“How are things going dear?” Asked Ms.Kelsey, a naive younger woman with a brown bun and thin purple glasses, “are you liking your stay with Neels?”

“It’s not the worst home I’ve been in,” you answered smoothly. That wasn’t a lie. Despite the fact you could only shower on Wednesday mornings, they confiscated your phone two days in, and they seemingly despised the idea they had to feed you, it still wasn’t the worst home you’d been in. Not even top five. 

“That’s good to hear!” Ms.Kelsey, your current social worker, celebrated. She was new to the job, only a year in, and annoyingly cheerful, but she was visibly trying her best. You appreciated that. “How’s school been going?”

“We’re reading Shakespeare in my English class,” you offered.

“Oh! And how are you liking it?”

“It’s alright, but I really like my English teacher, he makes it fun.”

“That’s wonderful sweetie,” Ms.Kelsey grinned, “Let’s go join the family for dinner,” she directed, standing from the worn brown armchair in the living room and heading towards the dining room where the Mr. and Mrs. Neel were seated beside their son, George.

You took your seat at the stubby table, across from George. The table was dressed with a tacky floral tablecloth, and covered with various mismatched bowls of sides surrounding a rather large chicken. The food was, as typical for Mrs. Neel, simultaneously overcooked and raw. You plopped a spoonful of soggy broccoli on your plate, followed by a serving of (unintentionally chunky) mashed potatoes. No chicken, you weren’t willing to risk salmonella or the screaming fit that would follow. Only simple sides that they have plenty of, so they wouldn’t get mad at you. 

The mashed potatoes crunched when you took a bite, and you tried your best to ignore it. They tasted wet and sad, and far too salty. Chewing was both difficult and necessary as parts of the food slashed down your throat with little resistance, and others put up a fight when you tried to chew them. But this wasn’t the worst home you’ve been in. Far from it in fact. At least the food isn’t moldy! And there’s no— no, wait, yup that’s hair. You decided to risk the chunky potatoes swallowed down your mouthful with a glass of water.

Ms.Kelsey and the Neels exchanged pleasant conversation, while you picked at your food, taking small mouthfuls fast enough they wouldn’t ask questions, and slow enough you could carefully examine all the food. The evening passed in a swift haze, with no mistakes on your end. After Miss Kelsey left, you helped clear the table, pack the food away, and retreated to your rarely used bedroom.

The bedroom had bare white walls, an uncomfortable bed, and a small dresser you kept your clothes in. It was fine. Everything was fine, you kept repeating to yourself. It could be much, much worse. It has been much, much worse. Be thankful for what you have. At least tomorrow you’ll see your friends again! That’s gotta count for something, right?

~~~~

“They… didn’t come today…” Damian rarely allowed his emotions to breathe freely, so seeing him look so defeated was odd.

“It happens from time to time. ‘Bout once a month,” Jason clumsily tried to comfort, “they’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Do you think they’re ok?” Damian asked, almost pleading, and looked up at Jason.

“I— ummm — ya,” he awkwardly placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder, “I’m sure they’re fine.” He was not sure, actually, but he hoped it was true. “Let’s leave the food here, so they’ll have something if they drop by later.” 

Damien seemed pleased by the idea. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think 💚

Notes:

I put this elsewhere, but in case you haven't seen it: I'm having some technical difficulties with responding to comments, but I see them, and I appreciate them <3

[ebodebo]

Your stalker is Simon, but he never goes too far. Gives you calls, stays a distance away from you to keep you safe at night or whatever, he leaves you notes when your mental health is going bad, reminding you to eat or drink water or like to drink your meds? Sorry if it's a bit weird :3

Number One Fan

—thinking about stalker!simon riley…MDNI

It was late, eleven or so at night, as you trudged into your house. Your dick of a boss was being a pain in the ass about office hours, so you stayed later to hopefully get in his good graces and get that overtime check.

You set your keys on the table at the entrance, wiping your tired eyes as you hung up your coat. You walked into your room, noticing a neatly folded piece of paper on your nightstand. You halted, feeling a sense of uneasiness, before gently stepping to grab the note, deeply sighing as your eyes scanned over the words etched into the paper.

Take your vitamins, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, now would we? Also, no more alcohol. Bad for you.

- G

You had a stalker. Well, have had one for the past two months or so. It’s strange, really. The guy can get in and out of your house with ease, but he doesn’t ever take anything. He just leaves notes reminding you to take your medication and calls when you have a terrible night.

You called the police the first time you found a note, but they said they couldn't do much since it wasn’t a direct threat to your health, so you stopped calling them. Initially, you thought the guy would get bored of you and leave, but sixty-ish days later, you are still getting his ominous notes and calls.

It was looking like you had attracted a nester.

You grabbed the tainted paper and stuffed it in your side table drawer, along with all the other numerous notes he had left you. Turning on your heels, you walked back into your kitchen, reaching to grab a fresh bottle of wine. There was nothing like a little bit of liquid courage to take the edge off.

As you poured the wine into your glass, your home phone rang, startling you to where you had spilled some of your wine on the counter, causing it to leak down your wooden cabinets below.

“Shit,” you curse, grabbing a wad of paper towel and setting it in the red to soak up as you walk over to the phone.

“Hello,” you answer, voice a little agitated.

“Left you a note,” the gravelly voice said, making the hairs on your neck stand. It was him—your stalker. You gripped the phone tighter, wrapping the coiled cord around your pointer finger.

“Thought I wrote no more alcohol,” he says sternly.

“I told you to stop calling this number,” you muttered.

“Just checkin’ up,” he urged.

“Well, don’t,” you hissed, feeling a slight numbness to your pointer finger as you pulled the cord tighter.

“Boyfriend isn’t treating you well,” he says knowingly. Your eyes widen. He was right. Your boyfriend was a major douche, but you’d been dating him since high school, so you felt this odd sense of obligation to continue being with him.

“He’s…fine,” you say, though your voice carries hesitation.

“That so?” He smugly questions.

“Yes. You need to lose this number,” your voice is assertive and strong. Maybe he’d finally take the hint.

“He can’t even make you come.” He was right, again. Let’s just say your boyfriend mainly caters to his urges and needs, leaving you to pull out your vibrator in the middle of the night and take care of it yourself.

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head again. You part your lips to speak but are unable to make any words come out. You find yourself genuinely dumbfounded for the first time since he showed up.

“Tell me I’m wrong?” He urges in a low voice.

“I—he’s, he’s more than proficient in the bedroom, but that’s none���” you lie, unsure of why you felt the need to defend your boyfriend to a random guy before he cuts in.

“I could make you come and not even touch you,” he lazily says, words oozing in confidence. You loathed how his words shot straight to the spot between your legs. God, what the fuck were you doing? Getting all worked up over your stalker, who you couldn’t even fucking see. Maybe you were just as crazy as him.

“You couldn’t,” you assert, trying to keep your tone strong, but he could hear it. The needy strain it held. He let out a rough laugh. You wrapped the cord tighter around your finger and saw it turn a pale white.

“Let me see those pretty tits he gets to see,” he encourages. You suck in a sharp breath, teeth coming out to sink into the flesh of your bottom lip, piercing the skin a little making coppery liquid coat your tongue.

Your conscious is telling you that you shouldn’t be doing this, you had a boyfriend, and this guy was insane, but the little devil on your shoulder told you to pull your tits out and make him put his money where his mouth was, which overrode your better judgment.

You could hear his deep breaths rasping over the phone when you uncoiled your hand from the cord, skimming up your stomach to the dip of your breasts, gently unclasping your bra, and pulling it out from the bottom of your shirt.

You hesitate a moment before you grip the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the side. You were now bare from the stomach up, awaiting his response.

“Wish I could take one of em’ in my mouth. Give em’ a nice squeeze while you ride my cock,” he rasps. You gasp, finding yourself bringing a hand up to caress a breast gently.

“But, this is about you. I’ll make you feel good,” he assures, his voice husky as he watches you play with your breasts.

“Okay,” you find yourself choking out, breathless.

“Pull your shorts down,” he commands. You oblige, slipping your shorts and panties down, dropping them so they both hang around your ankles, revealing your bare cunt.

“Christ. Fuckin’ perfect pussy,” he gruffs. You sink your teeth more deeply into the fat of your lip, feeling wetter as the seconds pass.

“Let me see you touch yourself,” he says. “Go on.”

You take your hand caressing your breast and bring it to your slit, carefully dragging your pointer and middle fingers up and down where you ache. Your lips part as you let out little breathy noises that have the guy nearly coming in his pants.

“Doin’ so good,” he lazily says. “Sink them in.”

You moan into the phone as you sink your fingers deeper into you, grazing your sensitive clit. Swirling and pumping in and out, spewing lewd moans that go directly into his ear that have him heavy breathing.

However, you change positions so your hand presses against the wall for support, shifting the phone to smush against your cheek and muffling your voice.

“Can’t hear you,” the rumbled voice says through the phone, making you lean more into it, wanting to feel his voice on your skin.

“Need to hear you, or I won’t let you come,” he states matter-a-factly.

“Fine,” you grit, taking your hand off the wall to correctly grasp the phone so he can hear all your mewls and moans as you continue pumping your fingers in and out of yourself.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised. You hate that the sentiment just made you impossibly wetter; your arousal covered your fingers, but he wasn’t done yet. He had made you a vow, and he intended to see it through.

“Faster, faster, faster.” You quickened your pace, following his directions—so obedient. The pace quickly turned into a feeling you had only ever been able to give yourself, but on a different level. It made your skin itch with desire. It was a mix of euphoria and nirvana—something people only prayed they could reach.

It was taboo, and unethical, and wrong. Maybe that’s what made it feel so good. Knowing it was immoral. Maybe it was the massive adrenaline rush you were getting. Or perhaps the dopamine being shot through your body. Honestly, you really didn’t give a shit what it was, you just knew it felt so fucking good.

You felt that familiar toe-curling tightness in your lower stomach, signaling your climax. Moaning so loud as your arousal coated your fingers as your body violently shook, almost knocking you off your feet and onto the hardwood floor.

Once you felt your high diluting, you gripped the phone tighter, issuing a quiet “hello” to see if he was still there. He was silent for a moment before finally speaking, his voice hoarse.

“Clean up your mess.” Was all he said before abruptly hanging up, leaving you to stand with a cold hand as the air brushed against your soaked fingers. But, you did as you were told, sticking your fingers in your mouth as you sucked them clean of any remnants of yourself. Doing just as you were told because you are not anything if not an excellent listener.

a/n: sorry if you didn’t want smut, but this was just such a hot idea…also, i don’t condone cheating unless it’s with simon riley xx

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[mrsmnsn]

You Belong With Me

wc: 2.9 (i got excited lol)

warnings: angst/conform!; eddie!xfem!bestfriend!; there is a smutty scene but nothing too serious; depreciation and low self esteem; friends to lovers!- they’re just obsessed with each other

tell me if i’m missing something!

a/n: Hi guys, i’ve been off for a while, a little longer than expected, but i needed to organize some stuff from my personal life. Anyways, i wrote this, of course is not super original, but i’ve been with this ideia of using songs, this one in particular, to write stories. As a source of inspiration. I hope you like it! <3

You and Eddie have been friends for a long time, longer than it seems, and he has always been there for you. When your mother yelled at you for some reason and you got upset or for when you needed money and he helped you, even though he didn’t had any and you knew it, he help you anyway or when you graduated and he was held back but he got happy for you and even took you out on a fancy dinner, to celebrate. He was always by your side and you were always by his.

There was kind of a rule between the two of you, if one of you gets sad or mad about anything is an obligation to call the other. Honestly it was just another reason to see each other. And today, well, you can tell it was not your happiest day ever. You were fired from this job you got five months ago in a bookstore because they couldn't pay the rent and the place went bankrupt. You were so happy with this job, genuinely, but you guessed that wasn’t enough.

So you didn’t waisted a minute and immediately called Eddie, it was a super emergency meeting that you wanted to spent all your money (the money that was left over) in ice cream. But he didn’t answer. You tried one, two, three times, but there was no answer. So, instead of trying a fourth time, you headed straight to the trailer park, a place which the way you already knew by heart.

It was already dark when you parked your car in front of his trailer and there was a red car, a BMW. That was odd. Eddie had a van that you were yet not sure how it was standing by itself and Wayne had a truck. You just ignored the car standing there and went to the door. As you got closer to the door, you could hear loud music coming from inside, to be more specific it was “Sex and Outrage” from Motörhead. You just ignored and got in, you knew that if you kept trying to call him from just knocking at the door, he wouldn’t listen. That’s probably why he didn’t answer the phone in first place.

So you walked down the little corridor to where his room was but stopped the second you heard a voice. A girl’s voice. And she wasn’t talking. You also heard his voice in the same tone as hers. You risked taking a look and there was the girl you had heard, on top of him bouncing up and down in the yellow lights of his room. Her hands squeezed and held his hand against her breasts. They both were moaning as if they were in a porn movie. You felt your eyes burning with tears. This girl was no stranger.

Margaret Fowler, or Maggie as everyone called her, was one of the most popular girls in your school. You weren’t in her class, she’s two years older than you and graduated before and yet people still talked about the most talented cheerleader and hot chick to walk through those corridors. To be with her was just a a fantasy, or at least it was what the boys said.

You couldn’t believe that she was there, naked and fucking your best friend. She opened her eyes and saw you standing there behind the little slit of the door like you were a perv watching them fuck. It didn’t took you long to run away before she could say something. You didn’t wait another second to start the car and get out of there as soon as possible. Tears started to fall from your eyes. When did that happen? You haven’t seen him in a week or so. How did Maggie end up there with him. It seemed like a lie, because most girls stayed with Eddie either to lose their virginity or to see what it was like to be with the freak. You hated yourself for thinking like that, but it was the truth, or at least it was what he told you. But you never understood how no one saw him the way you did. He had a charm, something that even you couldn’t explain. It was some sort of magnet that pulled you to him even though you didn’t want to.

But of course you never told him. How could you? The only person who knew was Robin. You had such a good relationship and how could he like you. Now it was all you could think about.

“Please, wake up, will you? Look at her. She has an amazing body, she was the cheer captain, popular and with beautiful hair and friends AND she’s older than you… and him. Most men like that, right?. And you… you wear t-shirts, you’re a bookworm, average non-interesting girl that on school games, were always on the bleachers waiting for your friend to play with her band.”

Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop……..

Without even realizing, you drove to Robin’s house and started to desperately knock at her door

***********

It only took you two 30 minutes to put on a stupid movie and open some ice cream pots. You cried more and explained everything to Robin.

“I should have just walked away, it would’ve saved me all these tears. I’m so fucking stupid. On my head, he belonged to me!” You said looking at her TV and putting the spoon in your mouth. “They really mean it Robin, when they used to say that she looked like an angel!”

Robin just mumbled “Believe me, i know…”

“And i feel really bad because i should be happy for him right? I mean, i’m his friend and… oh wait, what if they’re dating? Oh no, then we can’t be fri-”

“Y/N! STOP WITH THAT! I’ve heard you and i’m here for you but won’t stand listen to you go all crazy on your own assumptions, and i won’t stand neither of this treatment i’m seeing here. Do you see how bad are you talking about yourself? You are so much more than that! So please… why don’t we wait until this whole…. thing settle down and then we can talk about it, maybe go to Eddie’s and see what is actually happening?”

In the moment she stopped talking you heard someone knocking at the door.

“Oh fuck! Oh shit it’s him, i can feel it!”

“Calm down woman. You stay here, i’ll go check.”

You shrunk on the couch as you waited for her to answer the door.

“Thank god! Hey Robin, is she… is she here?” You heard a very familiar voice coming from behind you. So he knew that you were there, great! Just awesome!

“Look Eddie, do you know what day is today?” I could see the face she was making and i had to hold my laugh. Eddie stayed quiet. “Today is my sacred day! Full of mundane activities such as watching movies and eating a lot of ice cream and not giving a damn about the world outside and now, with this kind of unexpected visit of yours, you are interrupting my peace so if you please just… go. That would be great! I’m not being rude, it’s just the day, remember.” Robin was closing the door, i could hear it squeaking, but then there was a stomp. “Eddie… if you want to talk to her, why don’t you go to her house?”

“What, do you think i’m fucking stupid? i tried to call her, but she didn’t answer the phone then i drove there and kept knocking at the door for minutes but nobody was home so i came here, hoping to find her and now, for your behavior, you just turned yourself in. So please, i really really have to talk to her.” He spoke with no pauses, all just rushed. You had to really pay attention to understand every single word.

“Where is this girlfriend of yours? I mean, that’s none of my business but, how come you were having sex with like, the most popular girl we know?” Robin changed the subject in a not so natural way. You mentally thanked her for trying to help you.

“She is not my girlfriend! This was casual fuck.” He yelled at her, but then he got himself back together. “Not that i need to explain myself but we were playing at the Hideout and she was there on the crowd. I was surprised to see her there. As far as i knew, she was just one of the many boring popular kids in school that only got popular because she looked twice her age. But she started to hit on me and i was miserable, ok! I just needed to forget everything. And you know how it is, i don’t have a long list full of girls that wants to be with me. So i just acted easy and… well.” I could see his face now. He was ashamed, with those big puppy eyes.

“Can you wait here?” It took her a couple of seconds to absorb everything he said and to speak again. He probably just nodded because i heard the door close.

“You have GOT to go there! Come on, go talk to him.” She yelled-whispered to me

“Robin, i can’t, not now.” I said getting up speaking in the same tone

“Why not?”

“If i see his face, i don’t think i can take it, i’m too weak now, i’ll just fall into his charm again! I need to be well enough so i won’t ruin everything.” You know that if you walked past that door, in this moment of weakness, you would cry your eyes out again and you would beg him to be with you. In short, you would just humiliate yourself.

“Nonsense! You go there and face it. It’s right there outside, you can’t runway from that man which is by the way your best friend. Honestly, i know that you got sad but, that man is Eddie. You know how he is, he would never do those things that you were saying.” Of course you were being dramatic, it was easier to just start assuming things than actually having to face them.

You just nodded and walked to the door. With a very fake bravery, you opened the door once more. There he was, all anxious, grumpy and smoking a cigarette. You always find it funny this little pout he puts on.

“Hi sweetheart… can we talk, please?” His words came out softly from his lips, contrasting with the way he was talking to Robin, and he threw the cigarette away.

You just nodded and closed the door. He was analyzing your swollen red eyes and as if it would protect you, you cross your arms.

“I’m sorry that i ran away like that, i didn’t mean to ruin your night or to concern you but i just didn’t think it would be good if i stayed, you know? And i had a very shitty day and…” The breeze of the night hits your face and you feel lines under your eyes getting colder than the rest of your body. Great, you were crying again! “I just really needed a friend and i was completely wrong to invade your house like that, i’m really sorry for that too, i just heard loud music and i thought that you were there practicing or whatever. I just… sorry Eddie.” You could hold anymore and you broke into tears again.

He was listening very carefully and didn’t waist a second before giving you a hug, a very tight and gentle hug. You started to ground yourself in his arms.

“I’m not going to force you, but would you like to tell me why was your day so bad?” He said still hugging you.

“I got fired, it’s a long story but the bookstore is closing and i was going to yours so we could call the night you know?…” He hummed and caressed your hair. “And you know the rest.”

“I’m sorry i wasn’t there for you. I was also going to call the night but then… i think you heard it too?” It was your time to hum and you broke the hug.

“Look, i’m just going to say it, because i’m holding it back since i realized and i think if you’re smart enough, you’re going to connect the dots anyhow so… i think it’s better just to tell you.” He was still close to you, looking at your eyes anxious. “I like you Eddie, i really do! Not in this cute little friend way, i’m not talking about that. I’m talking about complaining to Robin and Steve every time you hook up with a girl because i know they don’t know you like i do, they don’t get you humor, your music and what is means to you, your friends and the club, and a whole different part of your life that only i know. I keep telling them ‘you guys don’t understand what i’m talking about, but i’m telling you, he belongs with me!’. You belong to me and not some other random girl who is not interested in the Eddie that i know. And i get even more angry after realizing that even knowing you enough, I wouldn’t be enough to be with you.” At this point, i just seemed like a foolish spoiled girl, but i didn’t care anymore, i needed to say everything, all those words. “I know i don’t sound completely sane right now but it is exactly how i feel. And i didn’t want to ruin everything by telling you just so you could open my eyes that i was being delusional and we could never be together.”

He just stood there, without saying a word. You just took deep breaths hoping he wouldn’t think you were too crazy.

“First of all, you heard that i said i was miserable right? That i just accepted Margaret, not because she is Margaret, but because a she was a girl who wanted to do something with me?” You just nodded your head too scared of what would be the next words coming out of his mouth. “Sweetheart i was miserable because Steve talked to me earlier, he said that you wouldn’t stop talking about some guy, and how your eyes would be in heart shape every time you looked at him. And even though i bugged him to tell me who it was he didn’t. I went crazy! I wanted to know why were you into some guy who was probably everything that i was not. I felt like shit, i just took advantage of her. I know it’s not right but i just needed someone who could fuck my thoughts out of me and she was there. Believe me, that moment you saw us, she was not on my head at all.”

You were in shock. You didn’t say anything, you probably couldn’t even blink. Was he really declaring himself back to you?

“And second of all, why lady, why did you think that you were not good enough to be with me? Is very amusing, i’m not gonna lie, the fact that you think that i am good enough for anything.” You were about to interrupt him but he was faster, he just spoke louder than you. “You don’t have the right to tell me what to think of a girl, if she is good enough or not. I decide that, and believe it or not when i tell you that i was the one thinking that i wasn’t good enough for you.”

He caught you by surprise! You didn’t expect to be scolded like that. You didn’t have words to describe what you were feeling and, probably, neither did he. You just kept looking at each other not knowing what to do next.

“We’re really stupid, you know…” You said and he giggled. That sound made you smile. You felt lighter with that.

“What now? What are we going to do?” He said putting his hands in his pockets.

You just wanted to do something so this weird vibe was gone. So you hugged him. It took seconds before he hugged you back. It was even better than the first one.

“Sorry that i turned this into a huge confusion…” You said in a barely above a whisper

“Only if you forgive me too.”

You separated a little just so you could see his face. You didn’t say anything, just leaned into a gentle kiss which he fully accepted. His soft lips met yours and you could feel butterflies flying in your stomach. His hands that once were in your waist came up to your neck. His big hands grabbing and pulling you closer to him. Your hands also traveled and they stopped right on his chest. You could feel his heartbeats and they were faster than ever. That only made you smile into the kiss. Like it was contagious, he smiled too and with that you just separated your lips and leaned your foreheads.

“You guys i NEED to go there and hug you both, so pleeeeease tell me i can just go there!” Robin said. anxious. Of course she was listening to everything.

You and Eddie laughed and called her to come out. After talking about this whole misunderstanding between you two, Robin invited him to have a night with you girls, only this time, it wasn’t about bad events but to commemorate!

[bumpkinspice0]

No One Knows the Trouble, Honey, That We've Been Through 1/3

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!FemReader

Chapter Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You're an X-Man... well, you used to be. You left years ago, and in the aftermath of an attack on X-Mansion, Charles has asked you back to help repair the damage to the estate. An easy job for an earthmover like yourself. Still, after years away from your old home, you feel like a stranger again. So much has changed and you're not sure where you fit in anymore. The newest X-Men member isn't helping your mood either. You're not sure where they found Logan, and you're still trying to figure out what to think of him. The mans barely said anything to you. He's not the typical stray Charles would take in, but then again, neither were you when he brought you here.

AN: Like everyone else, my Wolverine obsession has also re-awoken. So I made a quick little 3 part fic to cope with it. Let's see if I can rest now This leans into the movie-verse of the x-men (He's tall because Hugh Jackman is tall lol) but I think I wrote it in such a way that you can imagine it in whatever version of the x-men you like best. Warnings: Emotional baggage, fluff, angst, self-doubt, anger issues?, alcohol, getting drunk, flirting, Logan is drunk babysitter, this is a little corny but I don't care, eventual smut

Series Masterlist

Part 2. Part 3

AO3 if you prefer to read there

_______

Stepping on the soil of the Xavier estate felt odd in a way you hadn’t anticipated, like standing on hallowed ground you’re unworthy of being on. Funny, years ago you only knew it as home. Now you’re just a stranger to the rocks beneath your feet. Still, Charles asked you back. He asked for your help.

The grounds around X-Mansion were unrecognizable.

They were decimated in this latest attack. Storm assured you all the children got out safely, thank god. The estate took all the damage. The house had been rebuilt but the surrounding lands were… rough. Ripped-up roots and protruding rocks where gardens and trees once stood. The walls of the mansion were now bare of its usual sprawling ivy, freshly reconstructed for probably the dozenth time in its life— another failed attack from another ignorant enemy. 

You look at the destroyed earth around you, the real reason you were here. This is why he called you.

Soil, dirt, and rocks were where your powers lie. You could move the earth itself, sense the minerals beneath your feet, see the world around you through the touch of stone. Dozer your friends called you when you first came here— short for Bulldozer . You always hated it but it’s unfortunately the name that stuck. Now it’s just… part of you.

You weren’t the best student. You were angry when you came here at the ripe age of 13 after a rather unconventional childhood. Things were done to you you could never forgive. In a lot of ways, you were still angry. Used by the people you should have trusted most. Seen as less than human. A tool. A mutant. 

And that’s when Charles found you.

The Professor took you in when he had no obligation to— and you fought every step of the way. You realize now it was your fear acting out rather than anger. Still, you were an X-Man… for a while. You thought you found your place. It was a good few years but you wanted more. You wanted to prove the world wrong. Be more than just a mutant. People always say a life well lived is always the best revenge. That’s what you wanted, a good life you forged for yourself despite the world's hatred towards you— and you left the X-Men behind to do it.

Once an x-man, always an x-man, Charles told you the day you left. Maybe some part of that was true, but you didn’t feel like an X-man anymore. It was your own fault, really.

Months and years rolled on and picking up the phone just got harder and harder. Dropping by to say hello started feeling intrusive. And eventually, it just became easier to do nothing at all. 

You stopped trying, but so did they. 

No, that’s not true. Jean tried. Storm tried. A letter or two every year. Missed calls that never got returned. You don’t know why you did it… or didn’t do it. Maybe you thought it would hurt less if you just tried to close the book on that chapter of your life. Be a new person. Something without the X-Men. They didn’t need you anyway. 

Really, it was probably that same fear from your teen years rearing its ugly head. Still that afraid, angry little girl. 

But Charles called, and you answered, and now you’re here. You’re here to help them get back up. 

You became a landscaper when you went off to make a name for yourself. Dirt was all you understood, as sad as that sounds. Still, it was work that made you happy. Funny how you left because you didn’t want your mutation to define you.

Charles treated it professionally like any other client would. The man didn’t expect charity and agreed to your usual fee plus an extra 50% to redo the escape tunnels under the mansion. 

I can’t pick my home up and move it, but I do my best to keep people guessing about its secrets, was Charles's reasoning. 

It was a big job. It would take you 2 weeks at least. Hopefully finishing up just in time for the returning students. You’d already been here 3 days and the emotional exhaustion was getting to you more than anything.

There was no ‘bad blood’ here. You were welcomed back with a chorus of cheers and endless hugs. It was… nice. Really nice. You did miss it here, you missed your old friends. Still, you couldn’t shake this feeling of disassociation stirring in your stomach. Yes, this was your home— your friends— but you’d alienated yourself. They’ve been nothing but kind to you and you still feel like a stranger because you left. You left and stopped trying and you’re refusing to try even now.

 Why was this all so scary?

You're reshaping the east garden beds when you feel eyes on you for the dozenth time today. You turn to see him standing there on the 4th-floor balcony, overlooking the decimated gardens. 

Logan . 

You only met him a few days ago. The newest member of the X-Men. The Wolverine. You’d heard rumors about him before. Tales of the rage, someone more animal than man. You’re amazed Charles took in someone like him, but then again he took you in too. 

You’d said less than 3 words to each other since you returned. When Scott introduced you he only gave a curt nod and lurked back into whatever corner he was occupying. 

You noticed he liked to stay on the sidelines. Silently occupy space without participating. He was always there when you turned around— like a shadow. He liked watching you work, you think. You could sense him lingering outside of the tunnel entrance you started in the basement the other day. This is the 4th time you’ve caught him lingering today.

You give him a casual flip of the bird. He retreats back inside as soon as your eyes connect with his. 

Fucking creep. 

“Dozer!” Storm’s voice pulls you from your unplanned staring contest. 

She and Jean step down into the rocky pit that was slowly starting to resemble a 3 tiered garden. You’d been working on the tunnels below the house since you got here, this was your first day outside. Even an Earthmover needed sunlight every once in a while. You couldn’t punch out your slew of confusing feelings in a dark hole in the ground forever. 

Of course they’d ambush you as soon as you stepped outside. 

“We have a surprise for you,” Jean announces proudly. 

“What— Why?” is all you manage to say. 

Idiot. 

“What do you mean why?” Storm doesn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and march you out of your pit. “Come on, it’s up at the garage.”

You let them drag you there, reminding yourself that these are your friends. The ones that kept trying to let you in and you’ve been an elusive bitch to since you got here. 

Try. Just try a little. They want you here. They do. 

You’re guided, presumably to the garage, by Storm while Jean diligently holds her hands in front of your eyes. 

“Please tell me it’s a new car,” You joke trying to lighten the mood. “My truck’s getting old.”

“Pfft, we don’t have that much money,” Jean nudges you slightly before you all come to a halt. She removes her hands. 

It’s not a car. It’s flowers. 

They’re absolutely beautiful. Hundreds of them in nursery trays laid out in front of the garage doors. Young blossoms but still vibrant with rainbows of color. 

Despite your connection with the Earth you never had power over plants, but felt a kinship with them in a way. Both beings that thrived in the dirt was your best guess as to why. You could sense them, feel them in your own way. Your dorm was a practical jungle when you lived here. Hell, your apartment today still was. 

A closer glance at the small garden reveals something more.

“It’s all your favorites,” Storm confirms, reaching down between the rows, “The ones we could remember at least. You had so many.”

She pulls out a bouquet, a small collection of the surrounding flowers. They must have made it themselves. Ororo hands it to you, her smile warm but her eyes sad in a way.

“Guys, I…” you choke out, pushing back the stinging tears. 

“Your thoughts are very loud,” Jean strokes your shoulder, “The gardens are yours. A reflection of you… for the rest of us. This is your home, you get to leave your mark on it.”

“We’re happy you’re back,” Storm joins Jean in front of you, “We’re happy you're home.”

Wordlessly, you collapse into the two of them. You’d make an ass out of yourself if you tried to talk right now anyway. 

Of course Jean knew how you were feeling. Of course Storm probably had the idea for this corny grand gesture. Of course, they missed you. They’re your oldest friends. Your sisters. 

You’re home. This is okay. It’s all going to be okay. 

__________

The sun has nearly set when you hear the garage door open from a distance, a fight echoing from inside. 

“Logan, be reasonable!” You recognize Scott’s aggravated voice.

“You’re a goddamn coward,” the wolverine growls back. Jean informed you this is a regular occurrence between the two of them. You’re not surprised. Logan seemed difficult, to say the least. 

You’re halfway up to the garage before you realize what you’re doing. What are you doing? Are you really going to try to break up a flight or just get a better spot for eavesdropping? There’s the roar of a motorcycle engine before you have time to decide. 

“ Logan! ” Scott shouts one last time before Logan peels out of the garage— right through the rows of your flowers that rested there. 

“HEY!” you shout after him. It’s no use, of course. He doesn’t bother to stop, already past the front gate by the time you reach the driveway. 

Scotts stands there alone at the edge of the garage, his hand on his visor… contemplating. 

“You’d have one witness if you're thinking about murder,” you make your presence known as you crouch down amongst the now mangled corpses of your garden. 

Asshole.

“Shit,” Scott's posture drops, almost embarrassed. His demeanor had changed so much from that young man you knew. The leader of the X-Men, he took himself so seriously now. It was cute in a way only Scott Summers could pull off. 

“What an asshole,” you rescue a box of untouched daisies. At least some of it was salvageable. 

“You have no idea,” Scott joins you, finding what flowers could be saved, “I’m sorry. He’s… difficult.”

“What were you fighting about?” you dare to ask, more to distract yourself than anything. 

Scott hesitates before he answers. 

“We were attacked by an offshoot of the Trask Institute. Extremists we didn’t even know existed. They came out of nowhere, and they’re still out there,” You see him scowl, silently scolding himself for not knowing more as a leader. He’d do the same thing in training.

The person who always put the most pressure on Scott was never The Professor. It was just Scott.

“Anyway,” he continues, “We don’t have an exact location, but Logan wants to hunt them down. Take ‘em out at the source, ya know?”

“And you don’t wanna do that?”

“We’ve taken enough hits right now.” He adds a bushel of ivy to your pile, “Best to wait until we have our feet back under us… or if they provoke us again.”

“Wouldn’t be good to be caught with your pants down again, though.” It’s not your place to question him anymore, but you do it anyway. 

“We’re monitoring them. They’re not a treat right now,” he lets out a deep sigh, shoulders dropping, “But that’s not good enough for Logan. He doesn’t plan. Just wants to go in guns blazing.”

“Ah, wild-west style.”

 “Like I said… he’s difficult .”

“That seems like a nice way of saying an absolute dick .” you attempt to lighten the mood and simultaneously quell the anger stirring in your stomach. He’d ruined your gift, your welcome home present— and he probably didn’t even notice. 

“He is a dick. A big one,” Scott scoffs, gaze lingering over the vegetative carnage, “I’m sorry he did this because of me…”

“Acts of random dickishness are not your fault, Summers.” 

Scott actually smiles at that one. 

“Did you like it at least? The flowers? The girls were so excited about it. We all wanted you to… never mind. You– you get it.”

You look at the mismatched rescues you’ve already gathered in your hands. Thank god you still had the bouquet in your room at least. 

“Yeah, Scott. I loved them.”

He gives a reassuring nod. Scott wasn’t much for words. That’s okay, you didn’t expect him to be. Yes, he’s the leader but there’s still so much of that quiet boy you see in him. 

“Logan will probably be gone for the night. I’ll talk to him when he gets back. I’ll fix this, Doze.” Scott assures you, that leadership role dropping so easily into place. Charles made the right choice with him. 

“That’s okay, Scott. I’ll take care of it myself.”

__________

Scott was right, Logan doesn’t come back until the following afternoon. You’re on the mansion's north side with Charles, showing him your layout plans, when you hear the roar of that stupid bike again. 

“Sorry, Charles,” you quickly step away from your old mentor, “I have to handle something.” 

“I hope you won’t be ruining my grounds even further while you handle this,” Charles tuts disapprovingly, completely aware of Logan’s transgressions from the previous night. Being psychic, he was no doubt also completely aware of just how angry you were. Jean did say your thoughts are loud after all. Still, he lets you go without another word.

This guy had been nothing but a creep to you since you got here, stacking more anxiety on top of your already overflowing insecurities. Strutting around like he owned the place. Looking at you like a piece of meat. You’d seen too many men like him in your life. He needs to be knocked down a peg.

“Hey!” You have his attention as soon as he kills the engine. He rolls his eyes as he lazily tilts his head in your direction. 

“What, sweetheart?” his face is painted over with an arrogance that was just begging to be slapped off. 

You’ll happily oblige.

Kicking your heel into the dirt you send a wave through the ground. A small pillar of rock shoots up under the bike. It falls under the sudden jolt, and so does Logan along with it. The shock on his face was already worth it. 

“What the hell?!” He sneers as he crawls out from under the bike. 

“Why don’t you watch where you're driving next time, asshole,” You dare to take a step forward. He scrambles to his feet, a metallic ring following the movements. 

Ah, there they are— the infamous metal claws. Now these you’ve heard stories about.

“That is quite enough,” Charles rolls up behind you, “I will not have this boorish display of dominance on my property.” 

To his credit, Logan is the first one to drop his defenses. He sheaths his claws with an irritated shrug. 

“Don’t know what the hell I did for any of this crap,” He practically mumbles. You resist the urge to throw a pebble at his head. 

“You wrecked my garden!” You can practically feel the ground vibrating in your anger. 

Logan looks down at his feet, remnants of the flora he’d unknowingly destroyed still scattered across the dirt. 

“Hell of a place for a garden, toots,” he scoffs, kicking at the now withered flowers, “What you want an apology, then?”

You kick another small wave towards him. He catches himself on the shaking ground this time, only giving a scowl your way. 

“Enough!” Charles comes between you. “If you insist on behaving like children, then you will be treated like children.”

“He started it!” against your better judgment you mockingly point a finger at Logan. Charles only offers a disappointed shake of the head. 

Once a student, always a student. 

Charles addresses you first, “You have my permission to use school funds to purchase more garden supplies, and I apologize on behalf of my newest pupil since he seems to be incapable of doing it himself. They were a gift after all,” he turns to Logan, “And you will take her to get them.”

“No.”

“Absolutely not.”

Both you and Logan protest at the same time. 

“If you insist on protesting then I’d like to remind you I can always make you do it in different ways,” It’s an empty threat, of course. One of his favorite tactics to use. You remember him making the same kind to you when you were a student. He sighs before making his way back inside the mansion, “I will not have more petty rivalries in this house at a time like this. See it done… Today.”

You’re left alone together, both staring down at your feet like scolded children. Well into your adulthood you’re still finding ways to disappoint Charles Xavier. You’re ashamed you let your anger get the better of you again. You thought you were past this. Better than this.

Logan may have been an ass, but he was an X-man too. A friend of your friends. You didn’t even give him a chance to fix this before you came barreling in fists first. Still, you don’t really regret it either…

Fine.

With a deep sigh, you’re the first to concede.

“I have a truck.”

Logan hesitates for a moment before finally looking you in the eye. 

“I’ll drive.”

“Absolutely not.”

__________

The drive to the Westchester Greenhouse was tense and completely silent. Now he’s following three paces behind you like a giant angry shadow. The sweet grandmas perusing the hydrangeas take one look at him looming behind you and change rows. It’s hilarious if you're being honest. You’d cooled down over the drive, you’re not entirely sure he has. Every step he takes is tense, you can feel it through the damp concrete floor.

You wonder if he’s aware of how intimidating he is. He has to be. That or he truly didn’t care. From what little you knew about this man it’s probably a bit of both.

“I don’t get why we’re here,” his gruff voice surprises you, “Can’t you just… grow more?”

“I can’t grow things,” you respond, placing a tray of tiger lilies in your cart, “Just move dirt.”

He hums and looks away in response. This was getting painful. If Charles insisted on sending you both out on this stupid little team-building exercise then you might as well try a little… for Charles.

“I can’t grow plants but I can… feel them.” You continue. 

To your surprise, he actually responds. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Maybe ‘ I can kinda talk to pants’ isn’t the best icebreaker topic but it’s a start. You look around rows of greenery, your attention landing on a crudely drawn sign that reads ‘ Man-Eating Plants. ’ Perfect. Most basic nurseries never knew how to take care of carnivorous plants properly. 

“Here I’ll show you,” you walk over to the small section of venus fly traps. Your suspicions were correct. Brown-tipped leaves and shriveled black heads could be spotted on nearly every plant. They’d repotted them in all-purpose soil without a second thought.

“Don’t tell me you can talk to them.” Logan comes to stand next to you. 

“No, nothing like that. But look,” you point at the crisping leaves of one plant. “They’re over-fertilized. They get their nutrients from bugs, not the soil. They’re roots don’t like what’s in the dirt and I can… feel that. So then I talk to the dirt.” 

Logan raises an amused brow. You’re not entirely sure if it’s mocking or genuinely curious. 

“So whaddya do ‘bout that?” he probes. 

Curious it is. You take a quick glance around, making sure no one is close enough to see. Thankfully the massive scary man at your side and some towering majesty palms are enough cover for you. 

“We take out what they don’t like in the soil. And what’s soil and fertilizer but some specific minerals.”

You’d first gotten the idea when you’d heard Magneto could rip iron directly out of people's blood. If his powers could be so precise, why not yours? It took years to master. You practiced by dumping table salt on the yard and trying to only summon the granules to your hands.

Same concept here.

You hold your hand over the small carnivorous beasts, feeling the small pellets of fertilizer mixed into their soil. You can feel the specific minerals and separate them out. Steadily, tiny pellets hovered out of each pot in neat rows and gathered above your hand. Once gathered you clench your open palm into a fist, the pellets gathering into one solid rock the size of a golf ball. 

“There,” the mineral-dense rock drops into your hand, “Come back in a month and I guarantee these guys will be doing better.”

“Oh, I’m never coming back here,” despite the bitterness of his words, Logan says them with a smile. He’s teasing you. 

“Well then,” you turn to him and place the rock in his jacket’s breast pocket, “There, a little souvenir to remember your forced trip to the greenhouse for being a jerk.” 

You’re walking back to the cart before he has a chance to respond. The air feels lighter between the two of you now. You don’t like that you had to be the bigger person when he’s clearly been the one in the wrong but… it’s something, you guess. 

Your little demonstration reminds you that you need better-treated soil if you’re going to make these gardens work. The ground around the mansion was fine but they needed something ritcher to give the plants a good head start. You could mix the soil yourself from around the area but it was infinitely easier to get already prepared bags of it here. Just a few for the topsoil should be fine. Charles said this was all on him, after all. 

You stop in front of the stacked bags of various soil mixes. You reach for the general outdoor plant mix. Logan’s hand beats yours to the fuschia pink labeled bag, pulling it off the stack and tossing it over his shoulder. 

“How many?” he asks, emotionless. 

“Uh… let’s start with five?”

He grabs two more and effortlessly stacks them on his shoulder. He holds the other two in his free hand. He stands there holding over a hundred pounds of dirt like it’s nothing. 

“Okay, what next?”

The sun is starting to set when you make your way back to the manor. The air between the two of you is decidedly less tense but it’s still painfully silent. There was… progress made. You didn’t hate him anymore and hopefully he would treat your property with more care from now on. He tried, in the only way stoic men like him can. Not with words, but with small actions. Carrying bags of dirt for hours, shooing you away from loading the truck and doing it all himself, opening the car door for you. For some reason actually saying ‘sorry’ was always so much harder than just showing you he was sorry. 

You got it. Your father and brothers were the same. You wonder if he was a military man too. 

That doesn’t change the fact that you hadn’t apologized either. Yes, he’d wrong you first, but you provoked him without warning. Actions instead of just talking like an adult. Yeah, actions were always easy for people like you. 

And in your own fucked up little way, you’d made him the subject of your anxieties. He was new here, you’d made yourself an outcast. They all clearly adored him despite his rugged nature. Charles so clearly wanted to help this man who was too skittish to be helped. It reminded you of someone else…

You could extend the metaphorical olive branch. Offer something that resembled friendship. That’s why Charles sent you out here, but you’re going to do it your own way. 

Somewhere that holds a lot of memories is coming up on the right, and you could use a drink. The sudden turn off the road jolts Logan from his empty gazing out the window. 

“Jesus Christ, woman!” He reaches for the center console, shooting you a glare. You hold back a smile, “This isn’t the way back to the school.”

“We’re not going back to the school,” You pull into an all too familiar parking lot, a red neon sign already lit up reading ‘Stevie’s Bar ‘n’ Grill’ illuminates the windshield. You’d snuck over here at least a dozen times when you were in school.

“Let me buy you a drink.”

“What?” He smirks with a raise of the eyebrow. He does that a lot, you've noticed.

“Look, I—” You take a breath and shift the car into park. You can do this, it’s just words, “I wasn’t fair. You did a shitty thing, yeah, but you didn’t know. And I came at you with no explanation.”

“I’m used to it.” He shrugs jokingly, trying to lighten the mood you’ve suddenly soured. It works. You smile. 

“It’s… weird. Being back,” you’re grip on the wheel tightens ever so slightly in an attempt to ground yourself, “I don’t expect you to understand this, but it’s weird coming back to a place you called home and feeling like a stranger. Despite everything your friends are saying, you just feel wrong there. I tried to take my insecurities out on you Logan. I’m sorry.”

The bloated silence that settles between the two of you doesn’t help, but you can’t blame him. What was he supposed to say after you just bared part of your soul? You’re not expecting an apology but it hurts a little when he hops out of the truck. You’re about to yell after him when he rounds the front and comes to your door. He opens it and leans in closer than you’d like. 

“How about I buy you a drink then?” There’s that stupid smirk of his again, “You said it yourself, I did a shitty thing. You drug me out here to clean up my mess, wrecked your little welcome home present Jean wouldn’t shut up about. I owe you a drink, toots.”

He leans in a little closer. You can smell the cigar smoke on him, probably embedded into his clothes at this point. It’s not an apology. Not really.

It’s an olive branch. 

__________

It’s exactly the same. Old country on the jukebox, dirty floors, old tattooed lady bartenders that wouldn’t hesitate to knock someone out if they tried something. Funny how little hole-in-the-wall places like this never change. You’re grateful for it. 

You and Logan huddled into the farthest booth in the corner away from the commotion. His beer’s already half gone by the time you’re on your second sip. Somehow you’re not surprised. 

“How the hell did Charles get stuck with you?” You laugh as he wipes away the suds from his stubble. 

“Funny, I could ask you the same.”

You playfully kick him under the table and he thankfully laughs it off. He had a nice smile… you suppose. 

“He drug me in kicking and screaming,” You take another sip, glancing at the kitchen door in hopes the fries you ordered were coming. Logan leans forward, waiting for you to continue. “I… ran away from my birth family. Was on the streets for probably six months before he found me. I was thirteen.”

“That’s the most boring way to tell a probably good story I’ve ever heard,” He says before taking another gulp. 

“Oh, please tell me your life story then, Mr. Wolverine.” You cross your arms.

“Oh, we’d be here a while, Darlin’.”

Well… if he was asking about you. 

“I was born in Guam… I think. We moved almost every year. Mom died before I even had memories. Was brought up by a Colonel in the army and two brothers.”

“Military brat. Should have guessed.” You kick him under the table again, “Explains the temper too I guess.”

“Well, a military upbringing with a bunch of boys’ll do that.” 

When was the last time you told someone about your life? And why was it so easy to tell him? He holds your gaze for a moment and you feel your cheeks heat. 

“Why’d you run away then?” He asks. 

“Oh, you’re gonna need a lot more alcohol in me for that, fella.” you skillfully evade the question. Maybe it wasn’t so easy to tell him everything . 

“That can be arranged,” waves at the waitress, signaling for another round. You look at his practically empty mug and you're still practically full one— and still no fries. God help you. 

“Your turn,” you prompt him, “Tell me something about you.”

His posture tenses. 

“Not much to tell, sweetheart.”

“Where were you born?”

“Don’t remember.”

“Okay, where’d you grow up?”

“Same answer.”

“Did you—”

“Look,” he cuts you off, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening, “Like I said, it’s a long story… but I’m missing a lot of details. It’s not worth listening to, I promise.”

You suddenly feel bad for snooping so much. He had a boundary, and that was fine. Just because you were so keen on sharing doesn’t mean he has to be. 

The waitress delivers your next round along with a greasy basket of fries. Logan is the first to reach for one. 

“You said Chuck drug you in kicking and screaming?” His eyes soften again, “I guess he did with me too.”

He’s trying to be friendly. Trying to be a little gentler.

“Oh?” you gently prod him to continue. 

“I’m not…” he runs his hand through his pointed hair, “I wasn’t a good man… the parts I can remember. And Chuck gave me a chance. I don’t like it all the time… bein’ somewhere I don’t belong. I run. It’s what I do. But they keep havin’ me back. So… I get it.”

You suspect he hasn’t told anyone this, but he’s saying it to you. He chose you to trust for some reason. Your heart clenches. 

You thumb at the handle of your still mostly full beer next to another waiting one, unsure of how to continue. You both started with the heavy shit, so there was only one way to go now. You came here to clear the air… but you also came here to drink. You take the mug and raise it to Logan. 

“To the class fuck ups then.”

__________

In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the best idea to buy you six drinks on a practically empty stomach. To be fair, you didn’t admit that you’d skipped lunch until drink four and by then the fries were gone and the kitchen was closed. Half a basket of fries wasn't a good substitute dinner, it turns out. Not so much a lightweight as just an idiot, but everyone’s a lightweight compared to Logan. Perk of a healing factor is he can sober up pretty damn quick when he needs to. Practically had to wrestle the keys out of your hands while you were stumbling your way back to the truck. 

Cute how you thought you could put up a fight. He carried you the rest of the way to the truck, you giggling the whole way. Funny how he didn’t really mind either. 

So used to drinking alone, he’d forgotten what it was like to do it with someone else. All the comradery that came with it and a few sloppy games of pool too. Kurt wasn’t much for booze, unfortunately. Hank, Jean, and Storm were always too damn busy to relax, and Scott… like hell he’d have a drink with Scott. 

But this was all your idea. You brought him to a shitty bar, shared a little bit yourself with him and now he was driving you home while you poorly slurred along with whatever was playing on the radio.

And he didn’t mind one bit. 

He didn’t know what to make of you when you first came. They all talked about you with such admiration whenever your name came up… which was all the damn time. You were quiet, skittish almost. Kept your nose down and got to work immediately. 

He recognized what you were doing right away. 

Logan understood what it was like to be part of something and feel like a stranger. Hell, that’s all he’d ever been. Just someone passing through until the X-Men. He’s still learning how to do it. Be part of something. He meant it when he said he wasn’t a good man, but he’s a better man than he was. He wouldn’t have that without Charles. 

And here you come, someone who had it all and left it behind just to try to be normal out in the world. The one thing people like you could never be. Yeah, he really got it.

You admitted you were an angry kid in your drunken ramblings. He has a hard time picturing you that way— a little rebel. You shied away from talking more about personal things. Your family and whatever the hell else that past life entailed. He didn’t pry, didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable than he already had. Instead, the conversation drifted into one of those that’s about everything and nothing at all. Just sharing drinks with a friend kind of conversation. 

He liked it… having someone to talk to. 

You’re finishing up belting Bohemian Raposesty when he finally pulls into the driveway of the mansion. 

“Shows over, rockstar,” he announces as he kills the engine. 

“Boooo!” You weakly protest as soon as the radio dies, “Killjoy!”

“That’s me,” he grumbles, getting out and walking over to your door. You slump out of the seat as soon as he opens it, “Come on, princess.” 

You’re slumped over, curled up into the flannel he offered as a blanket. He pulls you into his arms, deciding it’d be easier to just carry you straight to bed rather than herd you up the steps. God he hopes everyone’s gone to bed by now, otherwise he’s probably going to get an earful for getting their precious darling drunk. 

“You’re like the firemen… in those calendars…” you slur as he pushes through the front door, “Or a lumberjack. With those chops, you have to be a lumberjack.”

He holds back a laugh at your girlish ramblings. To his relief, no one is in the foyer. He quickly hikes up the stairs, squirming drunk girl in hand. You were already dozing off by the time he reached the top of the stairs. 

Thank god. 

“Whoa, deja vu,” you rub your hands down your face, “I feel like 'm 16 again. We did this all the time back ‘n the day.” 

“Yeah? Who carried you to bed then?” your door is in sight. 

“The Professor.” you jokingly wheeze out without hesitation. “Guy loves his brandy.”

“Mmm, I’m sure,” Logan scoots past your door, careful of your head. He lays you down on the bed gently, you don’t protest. He carefully unlaces your shoes while you squirm into the covers. 

“Y’know, yer nicer than I thought you’d be.” You can’t even keep your eyes open now. 

“That right?” Logan smiles to himself as he pulls one sneaker off. 

“Mmhmm,” you nod, nuzzling your head into the pillow, “Funny, I thought the Wolverine would be so scary.”

He cringes a little at your words. He won’t hold them against you, not in this state. 

“I’m very scary.”

You blow a raspberry before continuing, “No yer not! You're just a guy. A hunky, lumberjack guy who hates flowers.”

“I don’t hate flowers.”

“Right… just my flowers.”

“Yeah, just your flowers,” he pulls off the other shoe. Your feet immediately shoot up into the covers. He smooths a comforting hand over your hip. It makes him happier than it should when you don’t flinch away. 

“You need anything else, darlin’?”

“Stop doin’ that,” You groan into the pillow.

“Stop what?”

“Makin’ me blush with your dumb pet names.” You admit, “Stop it.”

He smiles to himself, a familiar warm feeling rising in his stomach. He’ll leave you be for tonight. Best to wait until you're sober to ask what you mean by that anyway, if only to watch you blush a little more. 

“I’ll leave you be then,” he almost feels regret when he stands off of the bed. Almost. You were drunk. Tired. There was nothing more to be said tonight. 

He drags your empty trash can over to the side of the bed, just in case, and fills a glass of water for you too. 

“I had fun tonight,” He says before walking towards the door. Your voice makes him pause.

“Logan?” you call out like a scolded child.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t actually hate my flowers, do you?”

“No, darlin’. I don’t hate your flowers.” 

He makes sure to turn off the light and close the door behind him. 

__________

[paracosmic-murdock]

Could you do Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader?

Ben had always been the second son who had all the fun until the day he fell in love. From that moment, only her on his mind. Never once does his gaze befall someone else. He thinks all is well with her and their children. Until one day, she faints and reveals that she had fallen ill. (it wasn't terminal illness but her health was declining or she could survive from it. You choose) He didn't know what to think or do in this situation. Angst but ending with fluff. You decide how it goes. Add anything you want to. Thanks!! :))

hiii, thanks for your request <3 it's the first time i've gotten one and i'm excited and hoping not to disappoint!!! anyways, here it goes:

if there is no you

pairing: benedict bridgerton x wife!reader

summary: after many years of loving and having each other, you and benedict had a beautiful family and a perfect little life together until you fell ill one day and it all threatened to end. while you lied on your bed all day and night, fearing that you might leave your husband and children alone, benedict died a little each second that approached him further to losing you.

tags/warnings: mentions of chronic illness, not character death, grief, fear, angst, happy ending, song: soon you'll get better (taylor swift)

word count: 2.2K

❁ mila's anthology (main masterlist)

Benedict had believed his life as a bachelor would never end. He thought he would enjoy his singleness forever, that he could just sleep around, drink to unconsciousness, and party to death; but no.

The day he met you at Lady Danbury's home for a dinner party, he got immediately obsessed with you… utterly enamored.

You had a passionate and scandalous love story, one of those you can only see in romance novels. You even paved the way for the rest of Benedict's siblings to bring home scandals in the future: Daphne, Anthony, Eloise, Colin… all of them followed the footsteps of the second Bridgerton son, who settled down first than his siblings against all odds.

Your grandfather knew Lady Danbury through her late husband, and they had become great friends. As you had failed to find a husband to your liking, he and your parents sent you to Mayfair to live with Lady Danbury for the social season and help you find a husband. Which, ultimately, worked.

You were soon engaged to a fine gentleman. He was endearing and kind, and would surely make an amazing husband and father to many children with you. He could provide for you and give you a safe life. Lady Danbury had picked him just for you, and you were comfortable with that decision. That, until you met Benedict.

He had successfully managed to skip most social events, and when he didn't, you never actually saw each other. However, Lady Danbury decided to invite the Bridgertons to your engagement dinner, where you two formally met and changed the course of your lives completely.

Defying social étiquettes, Benedict decided to court you while you were engaged. You masked the yearning to see him with that socially imposed civility of a lady who has to receive whatever gentleman that approaches her.

He wrote you letters and snuck around to see you at night until before your wedding, during which he firmly spoke when it was time to speak or forever hold one's peace.

Under both compassionate and outraged looks, the two of you left that church and began your own love story. After the birth of your second child, the Ton forgot about the scandal behind your marriage and you lived happily ever after until you didn't.

It was one enjoyable afternoon at Aubrey Hall. The entire family was there: Anthony, Kate, Daphne, Simon, Colin, Penelope, Francesca, John, Gregory, Hyacinth, Lady Bridgerton, Lady Danbury, Lord Anderson, and, of course, the latest generation of Bridgerton children.

You and Benedict had made enough Bridgertons yourselves: Benedict II, the eldest, was seven years old, Benjamin, six, Blair, four, Blanche, two, and Béa, five months old.

Lady Bridgerton was ecstatic with the birth of your youngest. She had her granddaughter in her arms while her children and their spouses played pall mall in the broad backyard.

“Are you feeling well?” Eloise asked, noticing how you seemed fatigued.

You nodded, not wanting to miss a moment of the game. “Certainly, El.”

It was getting far too difficult to catch your breath, but you were sure you could control it, at least this once. You couldn't.

The next thing you saw was your husband beside you, holding your hand in his, near his mouth. You could feel the warmth of his words against the back of your hand, and almost hear the prayers falling from his lips.

He was never a man of God, but he considered changing that at the sight of you lying unconscious on that bed for several hours.

“Ben?”

Benedict let out all the breath in his lungs and rushed to hug you. “Thank God!”

You felt weak and dizzy, but didn't want to worry him anymore, so you reciprocated the embrace despite the headache it was causing.

“What happened?”

“We were playing with the family,” he answered. “And you fainted suddenly. We took you to the room and the doctor came to see you. He said that, taking your underlying symptoms into account, it might take hours for you to wake.”

“Oh…” you muttered, trying to ignore the reproach behind his words. “How long has it been?”

“Around five hours,” He sighed. “Do you want something, my love? Water, food?”

You pursed your lips. “Uh, water should be fine. Thank you.”

Your husband nodded and poured water in a glass. Once he sat beside you again, he gave you the water himself, making you smile.

“Where are the children?”

“They are having dinner with Mother.”

“How are they?”

“They are fine,” he assured you, but you knew he was lying. “Do not worry about the children, our family is taking good care of them. Mother is with Béa, so we mustn't worry about her too much.”

You pouted. “She must be hungry, Benedict. She certainly needs me! Bring her to me, please.”

“Are you sure? The doctor said you must rest.”

“Please, Ben.”

He couldn't say no. He could never say no to you.

Benedict was in front of you, sitting expectantly, awaiting your answer.

He wouldn't blame you for anything, for the last thing he should do right this moment is put you under stress. The doctor said that stress or worry would only make it worse, and Benedict wouldn't risk it. You, however, had to tell him the truth.

“They began two months before B��a's birth,” you finally spoke. “It was sporadic at the start, just pain in my chest every now and then, difficulty breathing sometimes, until it turned into something bigger. My heart starts pounding really, really fast, and sometimes I faint like I did yesterday. But now, I-”

Your husband's face was the most afflicted you have ever seen, and you felt guilty for hiding it from him for so long.

“I'm sorry,” A soft whimper left your mouth. “I know I should have told you months ago, but I could not bear the thought of upsetting you over something I was able to control.”

“Is that why you have chosen to carry the weight of your illness all by yourself? To not upset me?”

You nodded. “We are happy. We deserve to be without anything ruining it.”

“The children and I, we are happy. You cannot possibly be happy under the burden of that secret of yours.”

“I never intended for this to happen, I figured it would go away one day, it was never this complicated-”

“I know that, my dear,” Benedict sighed. “I am right here with you, alright? Always.”

You held back the tears. “How did you find out?”

“Dahlia got scared and told me the truth,” he answered, mentioning the involvement of your lady maid. “She said you have been in denial for months, and that this was not the first time this has happened. Your health has been decaying for a long time, but you wouldn't accept it.”

“Ben, I… I am scared.”

“I know,” He looked up at the ceiling and then at you. “Do not be. Everything will be alright.”

He kissed your hand and gave you a sweet smile.

“Thank you for being here.”

“I will always be here for you, Y/N. I love you more than anything,” Benedict replied, swallowing his own feelings. “What if you make some space for me there beside you? Can you do that for me?”

You let out a soft laugh, remembering for a quick second how much you missed your husband's jokes and that whimsical attachment you adored, oh, so much. He always made you feel like the new girl in London who caught his attention and made him do all sorts of follies. You were that girl the day you met, the day you gave birth to your third child, and right this moment. He loved you, and it was so maddening that his delusions passed as hope.

Benedict wanted you to get better, but the doctor said you probably wouldn't.

He thought you were full of life, even when your voice was hoarse and your skin a little too cold for an alive person. He thought you would be fine even when you said goodbye to him every night as if it was gonna be the last time.

What was he supposed to do? He had to hold onto hope. You had to live and see your children grow up. You had to see them marry and carry your grandchildren.

You were merely eight and twenty. You couldn't die and leave him.

Benedict hated it when he realized that he was making it all about him, but how else was he supposed to decipher how he felt about the possibility of losing you? He didn't see himself capable of dealing with your loss and keep going. He couldn't fathom the idea of raising the kids by himself. He didn't know how he would look at little Blanche, who looked exactly like you, and not break down.

“How are you today?”

You smiled weakly. “I am doing amazing, my dear.”

“Is that so?” he inquired with a happy smirk. You nodded. “It is great to hear that.”

“How are you?”

“I am quite content.” Benedict assured you, though the bags under his eyes and the loss of fullness of his cheeks gave away his dishonesty.

But you pretended like you believed him. “How are the children?”

“Quite well. Benedict and Benjamin have started their fencing lessons yesterday,” he said. “Blair has proven herself to be good at reading, quite like you, Blanche has been misbehaving lately but showing her artsy skills. As for Béa, she is growing more each day that passes. She gets along very well with Mother, as you know, so it is alright. They miss you. I have been trying to keep their little minds occupied, but they do.”

You didn't notice when you started crying.

“I wish to see my children grow up. I want to grow old with you, Ben… I'm scared.”

This time, he didn't have the strength to tell you not to be. This time, he cried with you.

“Me as well,” He kissed your forehead and attempted to get up. “Perhaps I should-”

“Please, stay.”

“I do not want you to see me like this.”

You pursed your lips. “Who else if not me?”

Benedict cried more and you felt guilty for being the reason of your husband's was misery.

“I wish to never lose you,” he whispered. “Because… What am I supposed to do if there is no you?”

“I will always be with you.”

“I know.”

You smiled at him, trying to comfort him; but you couldn't.

Nothing you did would ease the pain, nothing other than getting well.

“You cannot lose hope.”

“It is quite easy for you to say, El,” Benedict sighed, looking at the moon. “It is not the love of your life lying on her deathbed. It is not you who will be left alone with five children to tend to. It has been months, and I have no clue what to do. I only want her to be well.”

“I know I am not losing the love of my life, but she is my sister,” Eloise replied. “I hope not to burden you with my pain, too. I cannot bear the thought of losing such a loving soul. She has always inspired me to see the world as she does. And life. Even now, on the verge of leaving, she has managed to show goodness.”

He let out an afflicted sigh. “What did she say to you, Sister?”

She took his hand in hers. “She said that she would leave in peace if she had to. That she trusts us to take care of you and the children. And that she is happy with the life she has lived. She said that she has lived a life full of love, and that is what makes life worth living: the love we give and receive. You have done right by her. You have given her the life and family she always wanted.”

“I do not want to make this about me,” he said. “But I cannot help but to do so. If she leaves us, Eloise, I am leaving right behind her, I- I don't believe myself to have the strength it takes to survive in her absence.”

“You must be strong. For her and your children.”

“I don't want to be strong, I want this to be over.”

“I know, but… didn't the doctor say she was improving?”

“I do not want to have faith for nothing.”

They stayed silent on the swings of Bridgerton House until Benedict thought it was time to go back home. The sun rising announced it.

Once Benedict set foot on his home, he saw you having breakfast with your children. A wide smile spread on his face at the sight.

“Mr. Bridgerton, how dare you return home until after sunrise?” you questioned him amusedly, pointing to the empty seat on the end of the table. He was about to sit where you told him, but the children stood up from their places and ran to him before he could. You laughed. “But it is alright, for I got to surprise you.”

Benedict smiled and walked to you with your second youngest, Blanche, in his arms. “You are out of bed.”

“I am out of bed,” you confirmed with excitement, holding his face with your hand and driving him close enough for to you to peck his lips. “I love you.”

“Daddy!” Blair exclaimed. “Mama read us to sleep last night!”

“Did she?”

“Yes, Father! And Mama saw Benedict and I during our fencing lesson.” Benjamin, your second born, added.

“Mama is getting better, Father.” Benedict, the child, mentioned with a sweet grin, just like his father's.

“She is,” Benedict, the father, confirmed. “And everything will be alright.”

all things benedict bridgerton taglist: @imgondeletedis

[anachronismstellar]

Just in case no one asked yet: You could feed us, the like 3 WarPlane fans in a trenchcoat?

Mayyybe even some LQG POV? A little bit of "Why I want to fight him so bad?" with a pinch of misundertandings? 🥺

Oh. I just realized that all of the SQH gotta get them all asks I wrote in the Peak Lord POVs fjsbskdnsm

Anyway, WarPlane with a side of fighting and misunderstanding, right away! :D

Also a little bit kinda of a sequel to this post

Omg sorry it took so long but this one is a big boy fksnskdns I hope you like it <3

------

Shang Qinghua didn't show up next morning.

Or the other one.

Or the other.

Then he had to go on a mission, followed by another one, and when he blinked it had been weeks since that day in Shang Qinghua’s office.

So Liu Qingge decided to take matters to his own hands.

Because Liu Qingge wasn't stupid as Shen Qingqiu was so fond of calling him. He knew that he had a strong presence, and at any given opportunity, Shang Qinghua would run away from him as if Liu Qingge were a Demon.

Except.

Except when he had caught the other by surprise.

The scene kept coming back to his mind during training and during... Some odd moments.

During training it made sense. He kept chasing the rush of being thrown on the ground, excitement running through his bones at the possibility of finding a new sparring partner, making his heart race. It also opened his eyes for his weakness in hand to hand combat, a skill he had to confess he had been neglecting. Part because his sword training took so much of his time already, part because people hardly dared to walk towards him in an empty corridor, to dare punch him in a spar match would be unthinkable, apparently.

The other times that were a bit confusing. In the past days, he would be writing a report and the smell of ink would make him pause and think of strong arms pressing his hands against the floor. Or during their peak lord meetings, he would stare at Shang Qinghua, thinking how to drag him to training but instead of imagining an exercise routine his brain would get stuck on the memory of thighs embracing his waist.

He drew the line when the scene came up to him during his bath, making him hot all over even though he was using snow water.

BANG!

He barged into the room with sword in hand, ready to drag the other to the training grounds if needed to, being greeted by the rarest sigh of all times.

Shang Qinghua's office with no Shang Qinghua on sight.

"I-I tried to tell you, Liu-shishu, shizun is not here today," a girl wearing the white robes of the head disciples stopped by his side, panting, as if she had ran after him all the way from the rainbow bridge. "He's with the little ones, so please, if you want I can schedule-"

"Nonsense, I'm going to see him now," he turned to look at the kid, a bit impressed she didn't crumbled in fear by his glare. Although she seemed to be as tired as her Shizun, she had a lot of more spine by the way she put her hands on her hips now that she had recovered her breath, ready to scold him.

"Liu-shishu might be able to push his way through in other peaks, but here we do things by the book. You can either schedule an appointment or leave."

This is why he had wanted to see Shang Qinghua directly, he didn't have the patience to go through all the bureaucracy An Ding was so fond of.

So he took a deep breath, biting the inside of his cheek to not tap his foot at the kid just doing her job.

"Very well, when can I see him?"

She made a point of flipping her sleeves while passing by him to get to Shang Qinghua's desk, opening a small but thick booklet, flipping all the way to the end while humming. Then, with a smile that was eerily similar to Shang Qinghua's when he was about to scream at them about damage reparations, she said:

"He's free next month, on the third week, would that work for you?"

Liu Qingge squinted his eyes at her as he licked this teeth, making a tsk sound.

It felt as if she was lying. And at the back of his head he could hear Shen Qingqi dry chuckle.

"Nevermind," he turned around to leave the building, not bothering to wait for her reply. She wanted to play games and help Shang Qinghua hide from him? Fine. If words didn't work, he would use the good old intimidation.

"You!" He shouted at the first yellowed robe person he saw, pointing at them with his sword. "Where's Shang Qinghua?"

"Liu-shishu-" the boy tried to bow without stumbling on his feet while two disciples ran past them, pulling each other by their robes while whispering: "Liu-shishu? Really?!" and "Fuck yes I'm gonna get so much money-".

Honestly, cursing in front of your elders? The kids had no respect nowadays.

But he had no time to educate the youth.

"Where. Is. Shang Qinghua?"

The boy- because he couldn't be older than sixteen, stuttered while pointing at the west side of the mountain, slowly but surely trying to back away from Liu Qingge.

Not on his watch.

"Show me," he said as he put his sword away. It took him some minutes and a glare but he got the boy to start walking, guiding him all the way to a smaller house where he could hear children laughing, some of them running around a garden.

And in the middle of a huge group was Shang Qinghua, a low table set in front of him, surrounded by smaller ones as a group of kids seemed to be having a class.

Shit.

Before he could stop it, the An Ding disciple hurried to Shang Qinghua, whispering and then pointing his head at Liu Qingge's direction. And like candles being blown by wind, one by one, the kids started to quiet down, their huge eyes turning to look at Liu Qingge.

Was... Was he that scary?

"Okay, everyone, off you go. Class dismissed. And remember to finish your numbers today, I will check them!" Shang Qinghua said with a clap of hands, breaking the heavy mood with a bright smile. He helped some of the children clean up until an older disciple arrived, taking over the group.

Liu Qingge could feel he had ruined a precious moment. Realms, it might have been the first time he had seen Shang-Shixiong smiling, relaxed. And he actually felt bad when his theory was proved right by the way Shang Qinghua calmly walked towards Liu Qingge, his smile dropping as he tilted his head down, a deep sigh moving his broad shoulders.

"Liu-shidi," and right when he got closer enough, his usual too polite smile back on being plastered on his face.

"Shang-Shixiong."

"What can this one do for his shidi today?"

Liu Qingge felt his heart skip a beat before picking up speed. He shouldn't make him so tense, it was Shang Qinghua for Heavens sake!

Besides, he had thought about this for weeks. He had rehearsed lines and proposals, and he would never admit, but he even asked Mu Qingfang how to talk to Shang-Shixiong, he was ready, he-

"Fight me."

Maybe Shen Qingqiu had a point.

"I'm sorry?" Shang Qinghua blinked a couple of times before putting his hands up, waving them in front of him as he took a step back. "I'm sorry! Is this about the day in the office?! I'm so sorry shidi, I swear I am! Please don't-"

"I mean in a spar," he managed to spit it out, crossing and then uncrossing his arms, forcing his hands to stay down and relaxed. "This one is requesting his Shixiong to help him train in hand to hand combat."

Then he bowed, frowning at Shang Qinghua's surprised gasp. What was this with everyone thinking he was a brute?! He had manners! Has everyone forgotten he was from a noble family?!!

"Liu-shidi honors this one with such request, but I'm not good, really! It was uhh luck! I could never teach Liu-shidi in the matters of fighting-"

"Why not? Shang-Shixiong clearly has the knowledge, and I have just seen that he is a good teacher. Why you can't teach me your techniques?"

Shang Qinghua grumbled something he couldn't understand about changing points and skills, pressing his finger and thumb against the bridge of his nose as the other hand waved something to his side.

"Fine, Liu-shidi. You do have a point. But we are not going to go to do it at Bai Zhan Peak. I don't want this to be a big thing."

"Very well. Where should we meet then?"

"Tomorrow, their teacher will be back from their mission," he explained with a tilt of his head towards the house. "I'll have the morning free. We can meet at my house and use my garden, no one will disturb us there."

"I'll look forward to Shixiong's lessons."

They said their goodbyes, off to their duties. Liu Qingge again went back to staring at walls, tapping his fingers over his crossed arms, unable to focus on his disciples drills, deciding to go hunting to see if he could shake off his nervous energy to no avail. At night, he kept tossing and turning, and no meditation technique or set of exercises helped him to rest.

The next morning he felt as if he were a ball of condensed energy, ready to bounce and run towards An Ding Peak.

"Shizun? Are you okay?" his head disciple asked at some point during breakfast, a healthy distance away from him.

He finished his meal in less than three bites, leaving the table with just a "I'm going to An Ding Peak" as explanation, ignoring his Head Disciple calling for him.

And what if he flew instead of walking? He had an appointment with his fellow peak lord, no one would dare to comment on his eagerness.

"Liu-shidi, come in," Shang Qinghua greated him as soon as he set foot on the ground, waiting for Liu Qingge by the door.

The usual yellow robes were nowhere to be seen, swapped by a practical dark gray uniform, tighter to not get in the way of their fighting. And without the additional loose layers, it was impossible for Shang Qinghua to hide his broad chest and tonned thighs, strong enough to carry boxes and boxes of documents and parcels.

Strong enough to trap Liu Qingge and sque-

"I've set aside some clothing for you, so you don't dirty yours while we train," Shang Qinghua interrupted Liu Qingge unexpected thought, but still, the rest of the sentence echoed in his head. What was that?!, he through as Shang Qinghua walked them through the house until they reached an internal garden, lush grass covering the entire floor but for one patch of dirty right in the middle.

"Thank you," he took the clothing from Shang Qinghua's hands, looking around, doing his best to not stare at the other. "Where can I change?"

"There's a room right there, you can call me if you need any help."

Right.

No time to nonsense, he was waiting for this for a while now, he would learn as much as he could.

The offer for help wasn't necessary, the uniform was pretty straightforward to put on, nothing like Peak Lord clothing. He ignored the tingling down his spine when the picture of Shang Qinghua helping him undress came to his mind, leaving the room to face his opponent for the morning.

Shang Qinghua, with his legs in a split, stretching.

He felt his face warm up.

"Okay, shidi!" Shang Qinghua got up in a small jump, rotating his shoulders with a satisfying cracking sound. "Better start easy, I know you can handle, but hand to hand is a bit different than sword fighting. Now, stand up like this, good! Spread your legs a bit more- perfect."

They haven't started yet, and he was already sweating.

The first long minutes was just like any other martial class, Shang Qinghua helped him with posture, correcting his pose here and there. It was an odd sensation to have his usually skittish Shixiong touching him so freely, moving his body around without caring about Liu Qingge grunts or scared of Liu Qingge pushing back.

"Okay, this is for the basics. Do you remember the leg movement?"

Liu Qingge nodded as he pushed his hair out of the way, the strands sticking to his neck, itching his skin. Maybe that's why Shang Qinghua kept his hair up, because it had barely been an hour, and it felt as if he had been training for days.

They got into position again, Shang Qinghua letting him start the fight and run towards him to get tackled so Qingge could practice what he had learned. And, he understood where Shang-shishu was coming from by holding himself back.

But at the same time he was frustrated. He could feel under Shang Qinghua's skin a strength he had never felt from the other peak lord, an agility that took Liu Qingge breath away, and an intelligence to use Liu Qingge's own body and weight against him that he wished his disciples could see.

If anyone had told him that, of all the twelve peak lord's, Shang Qinghua was the one he would be considering to give lessons on his peak, he would have laughed at the person's face.

Now look at him, chest once more on the ground, wheezing as the air got knocked out of his lungs with Shang Qinghua pressed him down, fingers digging the back of his neck while the other arm hugged him by the waist, and powerful thighs hold down his legs.

"You're getting better each fight, Shidi," Qinghua gasped next to his ear, body sliding all over Liu Qingge's back. "You're going to master this in no time."

Liu Qingge could feel something shift, the air between them getting heated. Yes they're fighting, but he felt more as if he were about to face a dangerous creature instead of sparing with a fellow cultivator.

"Another round?" Qinghua's voice rumbled against his back, and Liu Qingge couldn't keep his eyes open, arching his back just enough so he could feel Qinghua's body pressed all over him. "Or we can take a break, we did good progress."

"No!" He used his legs to twist his body, their spar becoming more shoving and pushing than an actual martial fight. Then, in a moment of luck, Liu Qingge finally trapped Shang Qinghua.

Just like the first time they fought, they stayed frozen for a long moment, but this time with Liu Qingge on top, victory tasting like dirty and sweat. He realized that he should get up, their faces so close they were sharing the same air, Qingge's eyes caughting the glimpse of Qinghua's tongue.

His arms went numb and his brain got deafening quiet as he got just a tiny little closer, just-

Shang Qinghua raised his legs until they seized Liu Qingge by his waist, twisting their bodies again until Qinghua was on top, one hand immobilizing one of Qingge's legs by pushing it up until his knee was almost touching his chest, the other pinning both of his wrists to the ground.

"Seems like Shidi lost." And Liu Qingge was starting to think he had hit his head during their fight because... Who was this man? Where this confidence came from?!

And most importantly, why was it making him so- So!!

Oh.

Oh no.

"Is Liu-Shidi satisfied with the lesson?" Shang Qinghua smiled, and this time it was the furthest thing from his usual blank one. Oh, no, this smile was of a man who was about to have a feast.

And Liu Qingge was laying in a silver plate.

"Hmm. Liu-shidi did very well. This Shixiong thinks he deserves something nice for being such a good student," he said as he pressed his body down a bit more, tearing a moan from Qingge's throat. "What do you think, shidi? Would you like to have another round? Maybe somewhere a bit more... Comfortable?"

The line was cheesy, something straight out of one of his sister's books, and it shouldn't work, it shouldn't-

It shouldn't work but Liu Qingge felt himself nod, whispering "Yes" over and over again, moaning as Shang Qinghua threw him over his shoulder, carrying him all the way to his room.

And if he had gone back to more lessons later that week, and the week after that, well. He wouldn't be War God of Bai Zhan if he passed the opportunity of a good fight, right?

[seungfl0wer]

*I’ll do anything*

Part Title: Devils Helping Hand

Genre: Angst/Smut/Fluff?

Paring: Minho x Reader (Fem)

Warnings: Mafia!Au, Mentions of death, Sick sibling, Mentions of being shot, also mentions of being Minhos slave, slight blood mention

This will be a small series. For my 🔪 anon, they have a beautiful brain and now I’m obsessed with the thought of Mafia boss Minho 😪 (Their request/thoughts Here and Here) also side note this is the first series of writings I’ve done in a long while so please bare with me and my ramblings.

Series Master List

-🩵

You prepared for this for weeks, wanting it to go right because it meant everything if you could pull it off. Staring at the building knowing there was people in there willing to shoot you on sight. But none of that mattered if you could pull it off. Your brother has been getting worse and worse. He’s been in the hospital for the past month battling his illness but nothing seems to be helping. There’s a new treatment they want to try however it’s expensive. The insurance can only cover so much of it and the rest is up to you.

You’ve been working your ass off 2 jobs, barely eating to save money and your sleep schedule? People slept? You sighed loudly watching as people got into their car to leave. You’ve been scoping out the schedules of them seeing when they leave how long they stay how many go in and out. It was gonna work. It had to work. You find the window that’s been open for the past 3 days slinking your body through it. Bingo. The room was close to the one you needed. You peaked out the door quickly checking the surroundings before bolting to the room beside.

The door was locked but you learned how to pick a lock just for this. You worked your janky skills as you heard voices down the hall. Heart races as you quickly tried the lock and then it clicked. You were in! You hurriedly got into the room so know one could see. One thing that was very odd to you was there was no cameras. You even had a mask you were gonna wear but realizing there wasn’t anything you didn’t put it on.

You searched the room opening ever drawer and checking ever nook you could. You were getting frustrated not being able to find the safe you knew was there. Until you remembered in those movies people would keep things behind paintings. Eh it was worth a shot to check. Moving the few art pieces you rolled your eyes as you actually found the safe behind a painting of the boss. He was handsome, but word had it he was a very cold hearted man. I mean he had to be doing this job.

You searched anywhere to find a code he might have wrote down anywhere. You sighed why couldn’t it have been one of those with the tiny keys. As you looked you heard the door opening “fuck” you say in a whisper “this is it huh” you said to yourself. You weren’t going to go out with a fight though. You stood behind the door waiting for him to come in as he shut the door he looked over to his desk. Noticing things had been moved he turned to grab the door again only to be met with your eyes.

He was so calm and collected while your heart was about to beat out of your chest. Your palms started to sweat and you could feel a lump get stuck in your throat as you tried to speak. He tilted his head a bit looking you over “who hired you?” He asked staring at you eyes staying locked “I’ll pay you double what they’re paying you” he said still studying you. He seemed almost confused you looked like such a sweet girl. Your innocent eyes shaking as you stared at him.

“No one sent me” you admitted, trying to make eye contact with him. He scoffed a bit “you broke in here with out no one find you and you expect me to believe you” he laughed “what the hell did you come here for then? Do you have a death wish?” He said making his way to his desk. This wasn’t going as you expected but you weren’t leaving here empty handed. You stared at him as he looked at the painting that hid the safe. “Ah so you came for money is that it?” He questioned. You nod “My brother is sick” you said softly “i don’t give hand outs sorry” he laughs a bit before you cut him off “then let me work for you, I can do anything.”

He paused looking at you “I can get a whore anytime” he was about to say before you continued “I can clean really well, I’m also a pretty good cook” he raised an eyebrow he was honestly more confused than anything. “Pay me the money for my brother and in return I’ll be your servant” you said choking back tears. You couldn’t tell if it was from being upset about your brother or the fact this man could literally just kill you here.

He walked to his desk sitting down staring at you with big boba eyes “and if I refuse?” He smirked “what will little you do to me hmm?” He has a point what exactly could you do if he said no. The only thing you could really muster out was a “please” your hands trembled now, shaking so bad it felt like you were vibrating. Your legs felt like jello so wobbly and weak. You looked over your face making his way to you he lifted your head to make you look at him. He stared at you thinking hard “You will do anything I ask you. No protesting. Everything I say to you is met with a yes sir. If you cannot follow these orders say goodbye to your brother.”

That last part hurt a bit, but you nodded excepting the offer “good girl” he said in response dropping your face “how much exactly do you need?” He says like the money is an after thought like he was so rich it wouldn’t matter. “His first treatment would be 80K but his insurance is covering at least 10K so 70K.” You croaked out. It was so much money and that was only for the first treatment and it may not even work. You had 5K saved already from working yourself to death but it would take you forever to get it all.

He nodded “pocket change honestly” he said with a cold expression “I’ll pay it in full for you to come work for me for at least 6months” he said staring at you. You were honestly shocked 6months? You thought he’d just make you a slave forever “however you will move into my home for the time being so I can keep you close. Don’t want you running off after I pay” he laughed a bit “like you’d be able to hide from me” he said still laughing. “And if he needs another treatment we can work something out.” He said cracking his neck slightly.

You kinda just nod your head was empty at this point. Your body had almost gone numb at the thought of what you had offered. If you got yourself killed who would be there to help your brother? So you made a deal with yourself there and then, you were gonna put a smile on and work as hard as possible. No matter what the man would through at you. You were gonna live and live to see your brother better.

“So is it a deal darling?” He said his voice so sweet sounding but his face turned into a smug smile. “It’s a deal.” You said locking eyes with the man “Good choice, now please sit while I grab my stuff. We will swing by your house before we head to your new home.” You nod “oh by the way darling I never caught your name.” He said nonchalantly rummaging through his desk “I’m y/n.” You said as you watched the man he nodded slightly “Y/n- hmm. A pretty name for a pretty lady” he smiled.

Was he hitting on you? Your eyes widen a small bit thinking to yourself. The smile on his face widened a bit at your expression “gonna put you to work when we get there cause I’m starving” he said finding the paper he needed “oh by the way kitten, if you are going to my little slave just know you will not leave as innocent as you came here” he said smirking getting up putting his bag over his shoulder. That’s it. You had literally just sold yourself, not just for work but your body.

Shit. You said to yourself can’t he get any hooker or whatever he wants. He wouldn’t want you right? RIGHT!?

-🩵

He opened the door for you to get in the car he got in after sitting beside you. He told the older man driving your address and you headed to your house. Your mind buzzing thinking of what you are getting into. You broke the silence with a low “shit.” Minho turned his head in question wondering what had made you said that. But before he could ask the man had pulled into your place. It was a small janky apartment where he knew well had a lot of problems. Just last week someone from his group had shot someone dead in the street.

His eyes looked over at you how could you be living here? Someone so beautiful in such a crime ridden place, you didn’t have anyone here to protect you he thought to himself. Or did you? He never thought to ask honestly. And if you would have someone what then? He’d make sure they’d be outta the picture.

Minho broke out of his thoughts as you tapped his shoulder “uhm we’re here” you said softly looking at him with almost puppy dog eyes. You both walked in silence up to your door, your apartment was pretty empty you hadn’t bought much of anything after moving here. It was the closets and cheapest place you could get to your work and your brother. The place itself was very neat and clean almost looked like you just moved in.

Closing the door behind you, you turned to Minho “I have a question” you said avoiding eye contact. Before he could respond he heard a faint meow coming from the only chair you had in the living room. He smiled his expression softened as he knew what you were gonna ask. “I’ve always loved cats” he said walking towards the crusty looking cat. The cat rolled over as he approached exposing her little patchy belly. Her fur was a burnt orange color with a black and white batches over. She was a little chunky thing, with only one eye. Her meow was cute almost like a kittens meow how high pitched it was.

“Will she be joining you?” He asked as he petted her soft fur. His body language was so different now, he seemed approachable and kind. “Is that ok with you?” You said with hopeful eyes. He nods “of course” he pauses for second “when we get home you will address me as sir as I said before. You haven’t said it once but I will let it slide for now.” He said standing up staring at you “get what you need quickly.”

You head to your room grabbing clothes and such. As you did the man snooped through your house. Checking your fridge. Empty. Empty?? His jaw almost drops at the sight. It was so bare not even condiments. There was a single bottle of water, a small carton of milk and jar of jelly. What the fuck do you even eat? He questioned. How are you even alive if this is what your fridge looked like. He looked in the cupboard seeing a few canned foods but he noticed you had a whole shelf of cat food, treats and wet food. Of course. Damn you’re so sweet aren’t you. Buying food for your cat over yourself. God how’s he gonna be this tough guy over you when you’re this loving? He thought.

You came back out with a suitcase packing the cats stuff and putting her in her carrier. You looked at him as he stood by the door scared for what is to come but relieved your brother will be taken care of. You two walked back the car heading to your new “home” back again in silence.

-🩵

You pulled up to a beautiful house, it was nestled in the woods you could see a beautiful garden at the side with a small pool on the other side of the house. The house itself was not overly big. Bigger than one man needed but no mansion like you thought he’d have. Stepping out of the car Minho grabbed the carrier as you took your suit case out. You headed inside where he gave you a small tour, showing you where you’d be staying which was right across from his room.

“Alright now that you know the place I’m starving.” He said stretching his arms above his head “let’s see how your cooking skills are” you nod as you both walked towards the kitchen. You looked through the fridge that was stalked to the brim of fresh vegetables, fresh fruit and meat. Anything and everything you could really want. You quickly get to work on making him some fish over rice and some fresh steamed veggies.

As you cooked he watched over you, like a Sargent almost. He found it so attractive you could cook because he himself loved to cook. That’s a reason he’s never hired a chef but now he had you. Watching you make him food, your pretty lips in a pout almost as you focused on what you were doing. His body almost moved on its own, he pressed himself against your hands coming up to grab yours as you cook. “You should do it like this” he said helping you cook the fish.

He was so close to you, you could feel his hot breath on the back of your neck. Body pressed as close to yours as he could. His other hand resting firmly on your hip as his other wrapped around your hand that was holding the pan. You could feel him moving his hips slightly against you. Soft enough he thought you wouldn’t feel, but you did. God did you feel it. “Y/n” he said softly “you’re doing so well” his voice barely audible. The very intimate moment was interrupted by his phone ringing. His sighed loudly as he pealed himself away from your body grumply answering the phone.

“What” he hissed at whoever pulled him away from you. “Alright I’ll be right there” he said another loud sigh escaping his plush lips. “Of course I gotta go” he rolled his eyes. You titled your head a bit as you heard a car horn honking. He quickly went to the door “Make yourself at home I won’t be gone longer than 2 hours.” He said rushing out the door. You breathed out almost sad he had to leave. You wondered how much time he actually had to himself. He seems like he works himself a lot especially at the state of his house. You finished making his dinner placing it in the microwave for him to heat back up.

You kept yourself occupied cleaning up the kitchen, you cleaned up half the house before you sat down falling asleep on the couch. Minho finally came home later than he was supposed to. It was 3am, he looked exhausted slight blood painted his shirt. As he walked through the door he was almost shocked at how clean you had gotten things already. He saw you sleeping on the couch he was going to carry you to bed but remembered his shirt. He took a quick shower before coming back out. While he was in the shower you had heard him come home. You heated his food up for him setting it out on the table with a glass of whine you had found.

You slumped back into the couch waiting for him to come out only to quickly fall back asleep. The couch was so comfortable. You had been sleeping on a small bed on the floor. Anything was honestly better than it, it was so hard and lumpy.

Minho came out of the shower the smell of the food had filled the air his hungry stomach lead him straight to the kitchen. His heart cried as he saw you had warmed his food up and sat it out for him. Why the fuck are you being so kind to him? He thought to himself. He quickly devoured the delicious food you had prepared and oh boy was it delicious. He made his way to the couch seeing you had fallen back asleep he picked you up taking you to your room. You laid you down putting the covers over you and quickly kissing your forehead.

This was it. You were gonna ruin him. You already had his heart melting. Do flips at the sight of you. The thoughtfulness you had already shown and being so obedient cleaning when he didn’t expect you to already. He stared at you softly for a moment “one of us is gonna destroy the other, I can feel it. And honestly I hope it’s me who’s destroyed at the end” he said before placing another kiss to your forehead leaving to his room. He laid there staring at the ceiling just thinking of you before drifting off to sleep.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[ohdeerfully]

Hii!! i’ve never requested smth before but i absolutely adore your lil one shots for alastor and was wondering if you could write smth based on someone’s idea?

https://www.tumblr.com/sockmeat/741700944177315840/alastor-in-rut-but-instead-of-him-being-horny-hes

completely fine if not!! i just thought it was a cute idea and would love to see it wrote in an actual scenario!! :3

this is really simple and short but god writing block is killing me quickly... hope u like it anyway!!!!!! mwah mwah

as stated in the request, this is based off of @sockmeat 's post, which you can access by clicking here!

Jealousy Looks Good on You

alastor x reader (fluff) TW: alastor is super possessive, reader is referred to as female but doesn't really effect story at all, thats it i think

join my discord!

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It was that time of year again for Alastor. A few months of absolute physical and mental torture—which, considering he lived in Hell, maybe that was how Heaven finally managed to torment him for eternity. It never took a genius to figure out what put Alastor in such an odd state.

He was a deer.

Deer go into rut.

It was incredibly embarrassing, to say the least, especially for him when the rut was over. However, for his “mate,” who faced the brunt end of his seasonal affections, you didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, it was probably your favorite three months of the year. 

You were currently lounging in the hotel lobby, chatting with Angel Dust about a bar he was interested in going to. You had one leg thrown up over the other, clad in a dark red outfit that had been “mysteriously” placed on the edge of your bed when you woke up—you knew who the culprit was as soon as you saw Alastor a few minutes later in a suspiciously similar outfit of the same color scheme.

He had been sitting next to you for a while, making small, nearly unnoticeable bids for attention as you tried to focus on Angel’s words. A pressure on your knee with his own, a light graze of his fingers through your hair as he lifted his hand to adjust his monocle… to anybody else, the contact would’ve seemed only coincidental; however, to you, it was obvious considering the great care he always took to mind his personal space.

A brief glance out of the corner of your eye confirmed your suspicions. You couldn’t help but lightly grin at the tense grin on his face and the growing expression of frustration as you continued to keep your attention on Angel.

“–so, that being said, I wanted ta invite’cha out with me! And Cherri’ll be there too,” Your eyes turned back towards the spider. You could nearly feel the tenseness in Alastor’s shoulders heighten, and that radio frequency of his tuning up ever so slightly, but still noticeable.

“That bar is no place for my lady,” Alastor responded in a snap before you could even open your mouth. You whipped your head in his direction with a frown. 

“She isn’t your anything, Smiles,” Angel shot back, also interrupting your own attempt at defending yourself. 

It was almost comical, the way your head twisted back and forth with each remark the two made at each other. The tension was rising quickly, and you were getting more agitated with how many times you got cut off from saying a single word.

You were distracted from your own mental anguish when Alastor abruptly stood, hand gripping his cane with more force than usual. There was a dangerous look in his red eyes as he grinned down at Angel.

“She is mine,” Alastor stated with finality. “And what’s mine stays with me.” He reached down and gripped your hand, tugging you up with him. As angry as he seemed he was still gentle with you, at least. 

You’d be lying if you didn’t find the possessiveness attractive. Heck, it would probably be impossible to date the Radio Demon if you didn’t want to be obsessed over and practically owned. You were only slightly embarrassed at the heat on your cheeks when you felt the almost desperate grip of his on your hand, to which Angel pointed at with a defeated “what the hell.”

He basically dragged you away from the situation, ears slightly pressed back. He refused to look at you as you caught up to his steps and walked beside him. He didn’t have to look at you, though, because you already knew the turmoil that was going through his head.

“Don’t be so embarrassed,” You tried to comfort as he opened the door to your shared bedroom. “I think it’s very becoming of a gentleman to protect his property.” You enjoyed the way his eyes glittered with pride when you referred to yourself in such a manner. You didn’t truly consider yourself property, of course, but you simply enjoyed seeing that look in his eyes and the way his chest involuntarily puffed up.

What a different being Alastor was during his rut. More expression than ever with the way his affections and frustrations were so visible in his body language. He pulled you closer to him, squeezing you against his body as he let the two of you fall into the bed. You lifted yourself off of his chest with an elbow and looked down at him.

He met your gaze with his own wide, needy eyes and quivering smile. To put it simply, he looked… pitiful. Endearing. You loved it. He hated it. You knew if anybody saw him in this state he would go on the attack immediately without a single thought. You briefly glanced back to make sure the door had been locked. Just in case.

You smiled at him and peppered kisses on his chest and up, finally nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. He sighed pleasantly at your motions, swooping his arms up to position you on your side in front of him, wrapping himself protectively around your body.

“I crave you, my love,” He stated in an incredibly forward way. His voice lacked the typical radio effect as he spoke, and you realized your skin was also not prickling with the sensation that usually accompanied his presence. You responded by layering your hands over his own, which was resting comfortably against your waist. “I never want you out in such a… dirty place with that overly sexual spider.”

“I know, Al,” You said with a sigh. “Too many ‘hungry eyes’, you’ve told me this.”

He remained quiet, and you could barely feel the way your hair flicked every time he exhaled against the top of your head.

You also remained quiet, opting to just enjoy the moment. These three months went by so, so fast, so you didn’t want to waste time speaking and bickering over meaningless things. You didn’t care to go to bars, anyway; you weren’t much of a drinker. You also hoped to get Alastor’s mind off of his disdain for Angel. While you trusted him to know better to attack one of your friends—more importantly one of Charlie’s friends—you didn’t want to take any chances. He was somehow even more unpredictable during his rut.

You leaned your head back, tilting up slightly to meet Alastor’s gaze. He placed a feather-light kiss against your forehead in response.

He was in for a long three months, but you were going to enjoy every second of it.

[sniigura-archive]

All we have is time.

Adam x fem!reader

Summary: Ignorance is bliss, but sadly you aren’t an idiot.

Part 1 Part 2

CW/TW: Porn, COLLEGE AUU, TW:Adam Oral M reciving, one sided pinning, possessive behaviour, please tell me if i missed something, Choking, breeding kink, unsafe sex, toxic relation ship and attachment , implied mental heath issues on readers side

Basically I wrote this for @namazunomegami and I but u guys can read it too ig /j

The drive to your friends house to meet for lunch was painful. For you at least, your friend had a blast. Asking you questions which you didn’t really want to answer. For someone who claimed to hate Adam she sure was interested in knowing about his performance in bed.

Once your friend parked, you made sure to take 2 steps at once when you walked about the stairs, quickly knocking at your friends door. You didn’t take the elevator, since you were too afraid to be stuck in a small room with her.

“…And like, is it true that he has a you-know-what piercing? How does that even work, does it hurt you? Or is extra stimulation…?” She was right on your trail.

The door opened and your other friend looked annoyed, her brows were furrowed and she had a scowl on her pretty face, “What the fuck? Did no one teach-“

You pushed past her into her unfairly huge living room, making sure that all 3 of your friends are in the room when you made your confession, “I slept with Adam and now she won’t leave me alone!” You pointed your finger at your pestering friend, Bernadette.

Bernadette grinned like she was experiencing joy for the first time, “Twice! She slept with him twice!”

You groaned loudly, covering your face with your hands to avoid the stares of everyone. You flopped down onto the soft couch.

“Oh my god? Details?”

“..Wait was that why you disappeared at the parties? You were fucking Adam..or more like Adam was fucking you. My, My.” Your other 2 friends chimed in, a couple who moved in together after 1 month of dating and have been going up and down ever since. So you feel like they can’t judge you. But they’re also lesbians and that’s basically part of their culture so like maybe you’re really the odd one out.

“You guys are acting like we are dating. Can we talk less about my sex life and do more eating?” You whined out. Daring to look up towards your whole three friends, you gave them your best impression of puppy dog eyes.

Monica sighed and twirled a black strand of coily hair around her finger, her short but still perfectly manicured pink nails were in a stark contrast to her dark hair. Her girlfriend, Dymphna, gave you a once over with a slight smirk on her face. Her bleached hair perfectly framing her soft face.

“Why do you never want to over share sex details with us?” Bernadette whined. For someone who acted at first like that was worst thing to ever happen to her, she sure was chipper now. MAN.

“Bro, it would be, like, really hypothetical of me to break up with the extra for sharing all of our sex details only to turn around and do the same to my friends!” You told them sternly.

That wasn’t the only reason you broke up with him, but it summoned it up pretty well. He was Adam’s drummer, and him being part of the band was his first red flag. Other warning signs were his selfish behaviour in and outside the bedroom, him NEVER defending you against his mother, and shit talking you behind your back towards the band. It was a nasty on and off relationship, with him constantly breaking up with you for whatever reason floated around his head and you took him back ever time. That changed once you found out just how exactly he talks about you to his friends, it was the last straw.

Sometimes you wonder what Adam thinks of the, mostly made up, stories he has heard from your ex. Is that why he sought you out?

“Bae, that’s different. He’s a guy. We are girls, which means we are better, and we share everything.” Dymphna chimed in.

The back and forth went like that for a while, lunch passed and so did dinner and before you knew it you were camped out in your friends living room. This isn’t the first time lunch escalated to a sleepover, so you were prepared. While you were chilling under your blanket, your friends started up their questioning again.

You know that Adam wouldn’t care if you shared sex details with your friends, or anyone else really. Matter of fact, you think it would stroke his ego badly. What you were more worried about is spilling too much. His intense possessiveness, the fact that he herded you into a exclusive relationship. One sided exclusive relationship? His stare, lowkey stalkerish behaviour, his soft touches, the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren’t noticing. The emotional charged atmosphere in the car.

“So it’s casual, right?” Monica asked carefully. At some point you got pissed off with everyone hounding you for answers.

“Yeah. What else would it be? Has he ever had a serious relationship in college?”

“Hmm. Well, he does talk sometimes about dates he went to. One time he bitched and moaned in practice about a girl he went on multiple dates with, who talked about equality but didn’t want to pay for the date. Man, he didn’t stop talking about that for weeks. I wonder how Lute can deal with him?” The last part was more mumbled to herself than anything. Her girlfriend was draped over her lap while the both sat on the couch.

Adam and Lute run a female-only self defence club, which is affectionately called the The Exorcists. Monica and Dymphna met at the club during their freshman year. This also meant they're more familiar with Adam than you.

Bernadette was already passed out besides you, her soft snores filled the air.

“You know the story about his ex-girlfriends?” Dymphna whispered, conscious of your sleeping friend.

“Only a bit. Dated two girls in highschool, both cheated. The second one somehow screwed him over, hard. Got kicked out of his father’s house, lived with his mother…Did I miss something?”

“That summons it up... Do you think he was into you before the final break up?” Monica chimed in.

And you think of the times where you were single for a small time, at party’s and gatherings and at campus, were Adam approached you. But you were so far up your heart ache that you simply repressed all those memories. Oh my god. The memories crashed into you like a wave.

“…Naahh. Barley saw him before that.” You tried to avoid the topic, by badly lying. You see them exchange knowing glances, but you just ignore that. Like everything else uncomfortable in your life you ignore. Avoidance above everything else.

Maybe you’re just fucking delusional and your own ego went to your head.

“Wait! So at the last party you skipped out on you were already sleeping with each other, right?”

“Yeah…Why?”

Another glance was exchanged between the couple, which started to piss you off. You hate third wheeling.

Dymphna sat up, rubbing at her eye, “Huh. Well…Hmmm..Adam seemed kinda pissed of at the party. He seemed to be looking for…something. But! Don’t worry about it.”

You threw your head back into your pillow, trying to hide away. Jesus. Your friends chuckled at you, while they got up.

“Be careful, I think if you break Adam’s heart Lute will have to tranq gun him down. Literally.” Monica giggled at the thought.

They both kissed your cheek while wishing you a goodnight, returning to their bedroom.

Even though it usually doesn’t happen to you, you couldn’t fall asleep. As much as you turned in your makeshift bed, sleep didn’t come easy to you. It’s midnight now, and the only comfort you have is your professor cancelling all the classes for the day, so it’s not like you had to wake up early.

You did have an obgyn appointment tho, to talk over birth control options for you. After that you had to work a shift. Ugh. What you wouldn’t give to be rich, but, well, this is why you’re the first one in your family to go to college. Breaking the cycle, or whatever Bernadette is always babbling about.

In the end you lost the fight to whatever demon you were fighting in your mind and you pulled out your phone from the charger and started mindlessly scrolling.

A message appeared on the top of your screen from Adam. Damn. Ok. You opened the chat log.

[Adam Godfree]: University at Albany Study: Semen Eases Depression in Women {Link} 22:34PM

[Adam Godfree]: u up tits? 12:22AM

[Reader]: Yes. 12:22AM

You see the type bubble appear and disappear for a solid minute. This isn’t the first time Adam had texted you at an ungodly hour, asking if you’re up. It’s the first time though where you respond. You rub your hand over your face, feeling stupid all of the sudden. Before you could throw your phone away Adam responded.

[Adam Godfree]: yeah??? 12:24AM

[Adam Godfree]: want me to pick u up bbae 12:24AM

[Adam Godfree]: or i can come over idgaf 12:24

[Adam Godfree]: whatever gets me in that tight pusssssy 12:25AM

[Reader]: I’m at Monica and Dymphna’s right now. 12:25AM

[Adam Godfree]: my fave lesbos 12:25Am

[Adam Godfree]: i can pick you up where ever when ever baby 12:26AM

[Adam Godfree]: jus say the word 12:26AM

You started chewing at your lips, fuck. It’s not like you could sleep and as you learned from the two last times, nothing puts you more to sleep than having Adam rearrange your guts. You looked over to Bernadette snoring besides you, her whole body was arranged like a pretzel. She was a heavy sleeper, so you wouldn’t wake her up. And hearing suspicious sounds from your friends bedroom means also they wouldn’t notice you fucking off.

Your nerves would have been stilled if you knew how Adam was nervously pacing around in his own empty apartment.

[Reader]: {Location} 12:28AM

[Adam Godfree]: be there in 10 12:28AM

SHIT. Ok, deep breaths you got this. Looking around for your bag, you realised you had to pack exactly 0. You ha shoved everything recklessly into your bag, but it was all there. Making really sure you got everything, you rubbed at your face and neck, to get the nervousness out. Why are you so nervous?? That guy literally shoved his tongue up your pussy you actually need to chill.

Before you realised it, eight minutes have already passed. Carefully gathering your bag and jacket, you simply slipped into your shoes without tying them. Walk of shame vibes without having done the shameful part yet. Slipping into your jacket, you left the apartment and made your way to the elevator. You wish you had an elevator in your building. You’re pretty sure you saw a rat last week just chilling in the staircase.

Pressing the button and patiently waiting for the elevator you decided to text in the group chat where your whereabouts will be. Before anyone thinks you ran away or something.

Getting into the elevator you made your way down, till you left the building through the huge automatic glass doors. Looking around, you tried to remember what the fuck Adam’s car looked like. Expensive, for sure. But everything here was expensive so you were lost. Making another sweep of the street, you spotted Adam’s car, but only because you spotted Adam first. He was typing away at his phone.

Walking over, you opened the passenger door and got in. You simply put your bag in-front of your feet. Adam seemed slightly startled but he quickly catches himself once he saw it was you. You muttered out a small ‘Hi’ while sighing. As soon as you were in Adam’s presence you felt the tiredness creeping in. Weird.

“Hey, baby. How’s it going?” He murmured out, he grasped his huge hand against the nape of your neck and clashes your lips into each other.

Adam kept it PG for the first 5 seconds, which honestly made you proud of him, after that he threw out any decency and tangled your tongues together. Grasping his shoulders to push him gently away from you, you could have sworn you heard him straight up whine quietly.

“Alright, pussy pleaser, how about you drive to your place? So we can finally have sex in a bed. I can’t take another semi-public place.” You told him teasingly.

Adam scoffed at you with a smile on his lips, “I’m surprised you can take me at all, babe.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you turned around to fasten your seatbelt. Adam packed away his phone (who was he texting?) and shifted the gear to pull out of the side walk. You still think your friends were full of shit. One way to find out.

Sitting up suddenly, you turned your whole body towards Adam. He averted his gaze from the road to you, raising his eyebrow at you.

“Do you ever feel like you’re going insane?” You decided to ask him.

He scratched at his chin while furrowing his brow at you, “I don’t give a shit. We gonna fuck or what?”

Oh thank god. He couldn’t care less about you.

“Yup!”

Adam gave you one last once over while slightly shaking his head at you. He pulled out into the street and started the way to his home. You were a bit relieved. The less feelings involved the better.

You watched the street lamps and different buildings pass you. You tried to take a glance into the windows, you never learned how to mind your own business. Nothing was more interesting than seeing how other people lived.

Adam smoothly parked his car at his assigned parking space. The sign had a guitar sticker besides Adam’s last name, Godfree.

Getting out of the car, you hurled your bag over your shoulder. You already thought your friends lived in a fancy neighbourhood but Adam really knows how to do everyone. Walking up towards him, since you didn’t know where the fuck to go, you looked up to him.

Adam placed his hand on your shoulder, where your bag was thrown over, and gently pushed you in-front of him. He lead the way while being behind you. His fingers weaselled its way behind the bag strap, successfully sliding it off your shoulder and slinging it across his own shoulder.

You threw a glance behind you, to find out what his plan was, but he was grinning at you.

“What kind of man would I be if I let my favourite girl carry anything?” He whispered into your ear. You felt yourself begin to flush, looking straight ahead, while Adam had his arm wrapped around your side. Walking now beside you, he dragged you into his side. Chuckling at you, he herded you to his apartment.

You were too focused on the feeling of Adam’s big, warm body besides yours to focus on anything going on around you. You’re down bad. In the trenches, basically.

Entering Adam’s apartment, you didn’t quite know what you expected but it wasn’t this. Part of you imagined a messy apartment, with dishes and trash pilling up everywhere, but that wasn’t the case. His apartment felt empty, the way Ikea display rooms feel empty. It’s nice, minimalistic even.

It’s clear to you that Adam didn’t decorate the living room. You slipped out off your shoes, everything was so sterile here you felt bad just existing. Adam took of his own shoes and jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack. He helped you out of your own jacket and hung it up.

Adam looked you up and down and started chuckling at you, “The fuck are you even wearing?”

You looked down at your pyjamas which. Yeah, was embarrassing. Your oversized t-shirt had permanent bleach and hair dye stains from adventure with your friends in it. It was a band shirt of Adam’s band, a prototype you got from your ex. Your fuzzy pants were as old as time. You bought them when you were 13, the colour was washed out. It was blue with duck prints on it. Together with more mysterious stains.

“..What? You don’t like my sleeping fit?” You looked up into his smiling face. His eyes were soft.

“Nah, babe. Nothing gets me more hard than…Fuzzy ducks. What the fuck did you even do to your clothes?” Adam grasped your hand into his, starting to lead you towards his bedroom. His fingers were squeezing yours.

“You never dyed your friends hair at 3am because her crush didn’t text her back for 15 minutes?” You smiled at the memory of Dymphna losing her mind over Monica before they got together.

“Damn, let me guess Dy? Didn’t do that, but Lute did force me to make fake accounts to test one of her toys.” Adam sniffed, “Don’t tell her I told you that. She would kill me.”

Adam opened up his bedroom door and finally you see something you were expecting. It wasn’t trash or dirt, but a few guitars strewn across the room. His big bed was shoved into a corner, it was unmade. Huge windows were covered by the curtains and his desk was surprisingly tidy. His laundry basket was overflowing. On his desk was a photo of him and Lute, they seemed happy. Everything was messy but still clean.

While you were looking around, Adam put your bag down besides his closet. For a second he simply watched you, standing in his room. He pinched himself, trying to get his shit together.

You heard Adam walk towards you, you turned around and Adam grasped your face into his hands, he bend down and kissed you. Soft. Gently. Lovingly. Your heart sped up.

His body was towering over yours, his huge hands on your face and he started to lead you towards his bed. He pushed you softly unto the plush surface, while you laid on his bed he took of his sweater, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

He smirked down at you, grasping at your knees and spreading your legs apart,

“Tell me, baby, do you rub that pretty pussy to the thought of me? Huh?” His tone was arrogant, like he knew the answer to that already.

Which, yeah, he did. Busted. Are you that predictable?? You were going to die on the spot. You covered the lower half of your face with your hand.

“…Maybe.” Your voice was small. Your own pride was too big to admit to that. Shit.

Adam’s hands grasped at your hips, his thumbs were gently massaging your skin. His hands wandered down, grabbing at the waistband of your pants he pulled it and your underwear off your body carefully. Like unwrapping a present.

“Oh yeah? Show me.”

“Wha…Why?”

“ ‘m not gonna touch you till you give me a show, slut.” Adam kneeled down before the bed between your legs, his head in his hand, the elbow resting on the blanket. His eyes were focused on you.

Fuckfuckfuck.

You bit down on your lip. Who would win in this stare off? Not you for sure.

Avoiding his sharp eyes, you slowly spread your legs further apart. Adam’s eyes moved from your face to your glistening pussy. He started to smile at the sight.

A thought popped up in your head. Adam loves physical touch, that much is clear. You just have to give him the best show ever and forbid him from touching you, as a little revenge. Teasing him will be fun. Hopefully. He’s going to eat you alive.

Your hand moved from your chest, to your stomach, to your cunt. Making sure Adam could see everything, you spread your folds apart with your fingers. You heard him hitch his breath. Ok. You can do this. Adam is obviously infatuated with you, so hopefully you can’t disappoint him. Too much.

Starting gently, you gathered some wetness on your middle and ring finger from your dripping hole. Rubbing slow circles into your clit, your lip got caught between your teeth while you tried to stifle a moan.

Adam shuffled on his knees, his one hand went towards his hardening dick. Rubbing at his bulge through his sweatpants he groaned slightly at the sight of you. This really was his favourite fucking show.

“You like that, whore? Do like touching yourself for me?” Adam spoke in a breathy tone.

You wish you had mastered dirty talk like Adam, but part of you just wishes to hide away forever. The other part wants to get dicked down by Adam constantly. So yeah, your mind is pretty torn apart.

“Uh-Hu.” You simply gasped out, who needs words when you can just moan.

Fingers moving from your pulsing clit, you started to slowly enter them into your cunt. Pumping them in and out, the frustrating truth was that your fingers were much smaller than Adam’s dick. Or his fingers. So the places he could reach were basically unknown territory to you.

“ Shit, babe, need me to help that greedy pussy out?” Adam looked into your eyes up. Fucking hell. Sexiest man alive.

He started sitting up, his hands reaching out towards your thighs.

You placed your foot on his shoulder, pushing him down. Usually Adam’s eyes were sharp, like that of a hawks, but right now he reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked up at you with round eyes.

“Why don’t you beg a bit for it, Adam? What makes you think you deserve it?” You tried to make your voice as sultry as possible. It felt more shaky than anything.

Now it was Adam’s turn to be flustered, his face was flushed and he covered his mouth with his hand. Ah. Did you over do it? Before you could take your words back, Adam leaned his head against your ankle, nuzzling the skin there. He avoided eye contact.

“..Fuuuuck, woman, you got me so fucking pussy whipped. You know how down bad I am? Nobody squeezes my dick like you do. Shit….Please, let me fuck that holy like cunt.” Adam grumbled out, him being submissive was hot as fuck. Maybe you should gag him next time. Or tie him up? That’d be hot.

You sat up more, removing your fingers to grasp at Adam’s bare shoulders, “…Damn, Adam. Please stuff me full.”

That was all it took for Adam pounce on you, he grasped his hands under your back, throwing you towards the pillows. Your landing was cushioned, thankfully. Adam crawled over you, towering over you with his much bigger body. Your talent is really biting off more than you can chew.

Adam leaned down to whisper in your ear, “That was really hot, sugar tits, honestly. But we really gotta give you some good lessons on how to properly dom, don’t cha think? We can remember that for next time, now we gotta focus on filling you up real nice ‘n good.”

You simply nodded at Adam’s words, you want him so bad. You hope he wants you just as bad.

He clashed his lips into your own, teeth clanking together and spit being exchanged like it’s your only life force. As if this could heal you, heal you both. You think it does, a bit.

Adam’s warm hands snaked themselves under your shirt, his hands exploring your body. He stopped the kiss to take your shirt off, now you were completely naked, while Adam was still wearing his sweatpants.

“A bit unfair, no?” You ask him, while trailing your fingers over his stomach, towards his happy trail to then tug at the waistband of his sweats. His dick was straining against the grey cloth. A dark spot of pre cum was forming.

Adam chuckled, “Everything for my favourite slut.” He teasingly dragged his sweats down slowly, together with his underwear.

His dick sprang free and it was once again clear that your fingers could not compare to Adam’s sheer size. You already felt a phantom stretch in your pussy at the sight of him.

Adam started kissing at your neck while his hand massaged your tit, pulling and pinching at the nipple. You whined. Once you felt him trying to leave marks on your neck, you pushed his face away from your skin.

“Ok. New rule. No marks beyond the cleavage. I’m serious, don’t laugh! Spring is coming and I can’t walk around looking like I just got mauled.” You told him.

“Sure you can. And when you do and I see you I can remember how you milked me dry and everyone knows you’re spoken for.” Adam tried to sound convincing, he was, but you don’t want to die of a heat stroke just because Adam has some weird issues going on.

You simple glared at him, reaching out and tugging at his nipple piercing roughly.

“Ouch! Fucking bitch. Okay, okay. Got it.” He grumbled out, but he started smirking again, which was never good, “Doesn’t mean you can’t leave marks on me tho, baby. Equality and all that shit.”

Dragging him down by his nape, you tugged at his hair while frenching him. Why is he so dreamy? Or more like what’s wrong with you? Doesn’t really matter in the great scheme of things. This whole thing is to casually have fun. Totally casual. Yeah.

Adam spread your legs apart slightly, rubbing at your pussy with his finger, he slowly slipped one finger in and then the other. Pumping his fingers in and out of you, he was mumbling stuff you didn’t quite catch. Something about prepping you properly. Thank god for that because otherwise he would split you apart.

Slipping in the third and final finger, he curled them up, causing you to moan Adam’s name like a prayer. Maybe you are praying to him.

Feeling Adam remove his fingers made you whine out for him. Yeah you really need dom lessons from him, a bit of pleasure and you’re brain dead. That’s embarrassing, low-key.

Settling between your legs, Adam rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit.

“Ugh, prettiest pussy on the whole campus. Believe me, slut.” He whispered to himself.

Sometimes you wonder how much Adam is aware of the fact that you can hear basically his inner monologue. Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t know it.

Slowly slipping into your warm, wet hole Adam groaned at the feeling of you enveloping him completely. Some sick, locked away part of him is happy that you didn’t mention condoms.

Adam started to slowly rock your hips together, the pressure was building up in your abdomen. Reaching under your thighs, Adam pressed them towards your chest, reminding you off a pretzel. He reached even more sensitive spots inside you with that angle.

Seeing and hearing you be so satisfied made him pick up the pace.

“..Ya know what this position is called?..Fuck!..It’s..Ah..Called mating press, baby….You wanna be..ugh.. my little breeding mate? Huh?” Adam grunted out.

Shit, his dick piercing was rubbing against your walls. Fuck, Adam has been barley inside of you for 10 minutes and you already feel like exploding. At least Adam also looks like he’s going to bust any minute.

Man, and he hasn’t even touched your clit. He has an incredible effect on you. Well, more like on your pussy. You never thought pregnancy was hot till now. You literally let the guy spit in your mouth.

Scratching up his back, you decided to make him regret saying that you could mark him up as much as you pleased. Fucker. Your lips searched for Adam’s skin, you dragged his face towards yours. You kissed the side of his mouth, he tried to catch your lips into his, but you moved on.

Lips crashed into his cheek and chin and nose, till you finally found his neck. You made sure to kiss, suck and lick as hard as possible. Everywhere you could. Adam groaned straight up in your ear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Want to mark me up, heh. Show everyone who I belong to? Shit.” Adam grasped at your hips to keep you still, to fuck into you.

“Love when you do that. When you hit that spoo-Ah- spot!” You called out to Adam, to spur him on. To have him fuck your harder. You felt juices run down your thighs.

“Oh yeah?..Tell me what else you love?” He groaned out.

“Adam! Right there, please. I..Uhh…Love your dick…?” It was more a question than a statement.

“Fuck. I’ll take it.” Adam kept up his pace, and you felt your toes curling, your legs tensing up, while you locked your ankles behind Adam’s back, to keep him inside of you.

Your orgasm crashed over you, like an electric shook cursing through your body. Feeling you clench around him, Adam couldn’t keep up much longer and he came inside you.

The sensation of having Adam’s hard dick pulse inside you, while his hot seed is spilling inside you made you sob out at the overstimulating feeling.

Adam rubbed his big, warm hands over sweaty body in a soothing manner. What a man.

While Adam was kissing your cheek, chin and nose, you felt your heartbeat slow down. Reaching around blindly, you fished out your pyjama shirt and slipped it over your head. Adam’s eyes never left your form and neither did his hands.

He put on his underwear, to then pull you into his arms, being the big spoon. You were already half gone, cuddled into the blanket with Adam.

With Adam it felt like, he was born to be domestic and monogamous but forced to frat and fuck around.

You couldn’t spare more energy on that thought, since you were already drifting off.

———————————————

Waking up in Adam’s bed, with Adam’s arms loosely wrapped around you felt surreal. Light was peaking out of the curtains. You had no clue what time it was. It felt like morning. Was it morning?

You had to take your medication. You really didn’t want Adam to know you’re on meds. That’s really non of his business. You don’t even want it to be your business, to be honest. Rummaging through your bag like a crazy woman would very much wake him up. You had to find the bath.

Slowly and carefully getting up, you crawled out of Adam’s alaskan king size bed. Jesus his bed was nearly as big as your whole apartment. Adam was a big guy, though. He does need a big bed. Imagine him squeezing him in your bed made you smile, but also made your neck ache for him.

You took your bag, which was ungracefully put besides Adam’s closet, and walked into the living room. Where was the bathroom? Looking at the choice of 3 doors, one obviously the front door, the other two where a mystery. Adam’s apartment had an open concept, so you saw that one of the doors isn’t the kitchen door, since you could directly look into it.

Deciding to just open the door closest to you, you were happy to see that it was the bathroom. The other must be like a guest room, or a storage space. Or whatever.

Gently closing the door behind you, you started searching for your pill bottle in your bag. You ended up spilling out your whole bag on the bathroom floor to find that stupid thing. Taking out your doses, you placed the pill under your tongue and started up the sink to gather some water in your hand. Swallowing everything, you closed the tap.

Feeling Adam’s cum run down your thigh made you cringe. Should you shower? Would he be mad if you used his shower? What the fuck why would he get mad at you for using his shower, that guy cums inside you now regularly. You have to get your shit together.

Before you could take your shirt off, you heard a door slam and Adam yelling,

“What the fuck! That fucking cunt! Where fucking-“ You heard him put on his clothes outside the door.

Carefully opening the bathroom door, you made awkward eye contact with a half dressed Adam. A beat of silence passed.

“..Are you good?” You decided to ask him.

His breathing was calming down, and he rubbed a hand over his face. He avoided eye contact with you.

“Yeah, totally. I…I have this, like, crazy neighbour, you know?” He tried to weasel his way out of the conversation.

“Adam, I think you might be the crazy neighbour.” You simply told him.

His head whipped towards you, he glared at you, stepping closer to you and pointing a finger at you, “Alright, listen here you-“

Before he could continue his sentence, you hooked your own pointer finger against his.

“Wanna take a shower with me?” You looked up to him, with hopeful eyes. You tugged him towards you, with your intervened fingers.

By simply looking at him, you knew Adam was losing the resolve he had to be mad at you. Thank god.

Adam took off his wrinkly shirt, throwing it into the abyss. Same with his other cloth articles. All you had to do was take off your shirt. While you stepped into the shower, Adam’s eyes wandered across your spilled out bag items.

You were playing around with the water settings and temperature when you felt Adam wrap his arms across your stomach. You leaned back against his soft stomach and broad chest. Once you were satisfied with everything you ducked under the water, feeling the warm water envelope you made your muscles relax.

When you looked around, you weren’t surprised to see a 1 in 3 shampoo bottle. Once you made sure that your hair was soaked properly, you tried to reach out for the bottle but Adam was faster than you.

He spun you around so you were facing him and he then squirted a generous amount of soap into his hand. He massaged the soap gently into your hair, then he moved on to your body. He threw away any chastity he tried to keep up, his hands were massaging your tits. His lips meet your own, and he bit his teeth into them. You couldn’t suppress the moan leaving your mouth.

He moved his hands towards your hips, dragging your crotch towards his already harding dick. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.

Adam helped you rins off the soap from your hair and body, he kept leaving kisses on your face and neck while doing so. He turned you so his body was shielding you from the water. Damn his height and build.

With his hands on your shoulders he lightly pushed you down on your knees. So, here you were kneeling down in front of Adam. His totally not intimidating dick hang before you, thick and heavy.

You have heard the term breeder balls, and you never really had an image in your mind till you saw Adam. Looking up at him, you saw him smirk down at you. Grasping your cheeks into his hand, he squeezed your lips apart.

“Wanna please daddy? Suck my dick real good?” Adam told you with a shark like grin.

You swallowed down the extra spit collecting in your mouth, Adam just mad you nervous. Made your stomach flutter and your thighs clench.

Reaching out your hand, you started to slowly wrap your fingers around Adam’s cock. Your fingers barley met, and you started stroking him back and forth. Your thumb rubbed over his tip, the pre cum was collecting rapidly. Adam’s hand went to your head, he was pushing away your hair from your face.

“You teasin’ me?” Adam mumbled out. He tugged at your hair in a threatening manner.

Taking his dick in his own hand, he lightly slapped your cheek with it.

“How about you clean my dick for me? Open up wiiiiiiide.” Man, you didn’t even need to look at him to see the wide grin in his face.

Opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue, you let Adam rub his tip against your tongue. The salty and slightly bitter taste of his pre cum hit your taste buds. It could be worse, for sure.

Adam eased his dick into your mouth, with every shallow trust he put more and more and more down your throat. You tried to breath through your nose, tried to steady yourself. He didn’t bother letting you set the pace, simply starring into your face to gauge your reactions, to not push you too far.

Your hands rested on his bulky thighs, your nails digging into skin and hair. You kept your lips over your teeth, to not hurt him. Using your tongue to massage his dick as best as possible, you also hollowed out your cheeks, to suck him properly in.

“Such a pretty face, would be a waist to fuck you any way where I can’t see it. You want me to cum down your throat? Sure you do, all the bitches love that.” Maybe you should bit his dick. Fucker.

Adam, head pusher, Godfree thrusted his dick further and further down your throat. His pace was getting faster and rougher. Just how he was with your pussy. An especially deep push made you choke and gag. You pushed yourself off Adam’s dick, to catch your breath and not to throw upon his dick. That would be embarrassing.

He petted your hair gently, while waiting for you, “..Why did you take your bag with you?” He quietly asked you.

“..Uhh..I..wanted to get..just dressed.” Man you’re a bad liar.

Adam pinched your cheek with his fingers, it bordered on painful. He just starred down at you. Usually you could easily read him, he was very expressive and voiced any kind of emotion he’s going through. Verbally and nonverbally. This time tho, his face was blank. The usual pleasant nervous you felt around Adam turned into dread.

He simply hummed at you, pushing your head towards his dick. You took him back into your mouth. He returned towards his rough pace, making you choke slightly but this time you recovered quicker.

“ ‘m gonna cum down your little throat.” Was the only warning you got, before Adam held your head still to fuck into your mouth. Feeling him cum down your throat was sure an experience.

Adam, because he’s an asshole, decided to pinch your nose, to keep you from breathing. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough to push yourself off him once he was gone and to

take in air greedily. Motherfucker.

Leaning towards him, you bit into his thigh. As hard as you could. Usually when you bit him you try to mind your teeth, this time you hoped he bled.

With a painful yelp Adam quickly pulled you off of him.

“Why the fuck did you do that?!” He angrily asked you.

“Why fucking choke me, dumbass?” You asked back with the same energy.

“Babe, what’s the big deal? I can promise you, if you sat on my face and choked me? I would cum in my pants. Straight up.”

“Fuck off.”

Roughly grasping your jaw into his hand, he was seething and it was a borderline painful sensation.

“Why take your fucking bag with you?”

Shaking him off you, you rubbed at your jaw,

“That’s non of your business.” You hissed out at him.

You saw Adam’s tongue poke his cheek, a bitter smile forming on his lips.

“Yeah, right.” Adam grasped you under your arms, picking you up. For a second he simple held you up like a rag doll. You felt small and helpless, you hated that. With a hand on your shoulder he forced you out of the shower, into the cold air. Adam picked up a bathing rob and put it on you.

And even though he was clearly pissed off at you, he was still careful when dressing you. He draped a towel over your head, he then grasped your arm and threw you out of the bathroom, he locked the door once you were out.

What the hell?

Wait.

“Adam! Give me my fucking bag!” You hammered a fist against the door.

“Whaaat? Sorry, baby, I can’t hear youuuuu.” He turned the shower up more to drown out the sound of you cursing him out.

There’s no use in yelling at Adam, you knew that. Stomping towards his bedroom, you threw yourself into the soft bed. Sitting up, you looked around. Seeing a clock at the bed site table showed you it’s roughly 6:30 AM. Damn. No wonder you felt so tired. Ah, your phone was on there too. You didn’t see it in your bag, you thought it would be by the closet. Dropping out of your messy bag. Adam probably put it there.

Picking it up you simply looked through your notifications. Nothing exciting was going on. You should probably just sleep. Putting in a reasonable alarm, and putting it back on the little table, you cuddled up under Adam’s soft blanket. Everything smelled like him. That was nice.

Before you fully drifted off, you heard the bathroom door unlock. You sat up properly, to see Adam enter the room. It seemed like he calmed down. Couldn’t be you. He put down your packed bag back near the closet. Ugh.

“Ever heard of privacy and boundaries?”

“Naw, don’t believe in that bullshit.”

Yeah, you could fucking tell.

Adam sat down at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. He was scratching at the stubbles at his chin.

“..I don’t give a fuck if you’re on meds. If that’s why you were acting so fucking shifty.”

“I don’t care about your opinion! I care if I have to take that shit! And believe me, I genuinely wish I didn’t need it. I’d rather just…be normal and fit in.” Your voice got smaller at the end. You want nothing more than to fit in.

Adam sighed, “..Well, how were your shitty little friends supposed to find you, if you were like everyone else?” He grasped your neck gently and your foreheads touched each other while you gazed into each others eyes, “..How would I have found you if you didn’t stand out?”

You felt your eyelashes get wet, tears gathering in your eye. Damn. Okay.

You sniffed and rubbed the water from your eyes.

“…Let’s sleep.”

Adam grunted in agreement. Lots of excitement for one morning. Laying back down, you felt Adam’s arms wrap around you once again.

And when you woke up a few hours later, Adam had a tight grip on you and had you pressed against the wall. So you couldn’t escape this time.

[mayese]

A flower for a flower

Joel Miller x f!reader

Synopsis: Joel can’t help but think of you every time he sees a blossoming flower.

Note: I wrote this in like, 15 minutes 😭 it’s so rushed and bad, I’m sorry. I just needed to write something sweet!! I’m probably rereading it again and trying to fix some things tho, but I hope you like it <3

——————————————————————

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ellie growls in annoyance as her horse starts to grow uneasy for being stopped for too long, mimicking the behavior of the girl.

Joel sighed, feeling his back hurt due to the fact that he was leaning, his knee on the ground. “Mind ya business,” he shot back, but Ellie snorted.

“It is my business! We’re supposed to be killing infected, not-“ Her words and tone slowly died as Joel got up with a grunt, turning around with a few flowers on his hand which he kept carefully while he straddled himself on his horse again.

He had seen those flowers the other day on patrol, giving him an idea. Joel knew how much you loved flowers, how many hours you kept yourself working on the greenhouse talking care of plants like they were kids or something that needed your devoted attention. And he can picture the green book filled with pictures and drawings about flowers, herbs and plants that you keep on your bedside table, a rare find you picked up on one of the few patrols you had made these months.

Without even glancing at Ellie he kicked his horse softly, whooshing trough the girl whose mouth hanged opened. “Let’s go,” he shouted, and Ellie was quick to follow him, her horse quick to catch them both ahead.

“Are those a bouquet?” She asked, curiosity winning over. Joel kept his frown, not answering her question. It was odd to see a man like Joel carry flowers with him, treating them kindly and not wanting to damage them, almost like protecting it.

They were beautiful, Ellie thought. Joel carried flowers with various colors, some yellow and others red and light pink. Different shapes and maybe different scents.

But Ellie knows Joel is not a flower guy. And she knows why Joel had them on his hand. You loved flowers. Ellie remembers seeing one book in your collection about plants and flowers, opening it and seeing so many scribbles on the pages, some with plucked flowers squished inside the pages.

Ellie glanced again at Joel and the flowers. “You know those are not enough for a bouquet right?”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Can you stop?” He growled.

“It was you who stopped to pick up those!” She said. “Are those for her?”

For a few moments he didn’t respond, and wasn’t for the almost non-existent nod she would think he didn’t answer. “Then I will help you out!”

“Help me- What are you-“ Joel looked at her, confused.

“Help you pick up more flowers. And then you give those to her!”

Needless to say, their patrol basically consisted on Ellie finding beautiful flowers and plants while Joel followed around, keeping an eye out for danger. And even if he didn’t like to admit it, searching and seeing so many different flowers was beautiful.

Once they’re out of Jackson, they’re supposed to be serious, attentive to every threat lurking around the corner, easily making everyone forget about the hidden secrets and simple things that anyone would enjoy. Something as simple as flowers, that despite the end of the world didn’t stop growing and flourishing.

Back at Jackson, Tommy grinned at Joel once the man handed the horse to the guy in charge of the stables for the day. Tommy teased his brother about the flowers while Ellie joined Tommy. Joel just scuffed, getting away from them as quickly as possible before making his way to your house.

Of course that they were few. A flower for a flower. The most beautiful and kind flower he had ever met. The person that had changed him for the better, that tried to accept him and learned to love him the way he was, as he did the same.

Seeing those beautiful flowers had made him think of you, wanting to pluck them and offer it to the most gorgeous person he had ever laid eyes upon, your sweet smile and your kind eyes. Every time you talk about flowers of that book of yours that you can’t have because the world is to dangerous out there for you to explore and see. It made him want to bring it to you.

He knocked on your door, shuffling around for a few seconds before you opened it, that damned smile that made him melt like butter appearing on your face after you noticed him. And before Joel could say anything, the bouquet behind his back, you pushed him by the collar, meeting him with your lips on his, clearly satisfied that he was safe and sound back to you, even if now things appeared to be calmer on the outskirts of Jackson.

“I missed you,” you murmured, almost glued to him with your faces mere inches away.

He chuckled, grabbing your waist with his spare hand. “It’s been 6 hours,” he teases you with a smile, and you sigh dramatically.

“Six long and excruciating hours without you,” you say with a huff, making Joel smile even more. And before you could add anything, Joel extended his other arm, finally revealing the many flowers he was holding on his other hand.

Your eyes traveled down at the sound, glancing at the beautiful bouquet he gathered with Ellie’s help before you were screeching with excitement, quick to detach yourself from Joel to look properly at the flowers.

“Are those for me?!” You asked enthusiastically, missing his chuckle while you ogled the flowers, mesmerized. You’ve never seen those.

“Is there anyone else here?”

He handed you the flowers, attached by a red string he had on his pocket which he purposefully had taken with him that morning. You grabbed them gently, looking in awe before glancing at Joel, whose eyes softened at the sight of you.

“Thank you, Joel. Nobody’s ever offered me flowers. And you know I’m crazy for them,” you said coyly before you kissed him again, making his thoughts mellow.

“And I’m crazy for you,” Joel murmured, making you smile against his lips before you kissed him again, gluing yourself to him but keeping his flowers away from harm.

[sherewrytes]

T. A. R (Time, Appreciation, Respect)

(I'll always want you part 2)

Synopsis: Ony was calling Y/N constantly these days, trying to always reach out to talk and say his piece. Y/N wasn't sure if she was ready for it.

C.W. Angst, Black coded reader, Drug use (weed). Song links used as reference.

Fanfic inspired by the following song.

Solange: Cranes in the sky

Link for part one here

Time had passed since your confrontation with Ony on that fateful night. The sting of betrayal still lingered, casting a shadow over your every thought and action. You still find herself unable to shake the memories of everything that took place between you and Ony and the raw emotions it had unleashed.

It's 2:30 AM. You lie awake, replaying the conversation with Ony in your mind. A part of you acknowledges he may be right, yet you find it impossible to converse without being overwhelmed by emotions.

You heard Annie out on her part to play in all this but not Ony. You didn't have class until 2pm today so you had enough time to sleep some more if needed. You got out of bed, stretched, went to your desk to journal to clear your mind.

You lit the candle on your desk, opened your journal and poured your feelings into it. The pen felt heavy in your hand, similar to how your heart felt in your chest. You wrote about the confusion swirling within you, torn between the logic of Ony's words and the ache of betrayal that still lingered deep within your soul. Memories flashed through your mind of happier times, of sad times and every moment in between. You knew you should hear him out but, you couldn't decide if you were ready or not.

You closed the journal and texted Sasha to see if she was awake. You needed someone to talk to. Sasha responded almost immediately saying she's in the area, so she'd be over in a few and she has Connie and Eren with her.

You sighed and responded. You went to your kitchen to make a quick midnight snack for you and your quests. 15 mins later, at your apartment is Sasha, Connie and Eren.

Connie: "Is it okay if I smoke in here. Between Uni, my music shit and other shit. I'm stressed out."

You: "It's cool. I do smoke sometimes, well used to with Ony. Speaking of Ony. He's been calling my phone nonstop.

*Turns to Eren* He said you've been on his ass about me. Eren the fuck you on boy.

Eren sighed "Look I'm just looking out for him. Ony is taking this harder that I've seen him take anything. Him and I go way back. Ony only shows up to class, messages me for some weed well hella weed. He aint even in the studio much either."

You knew Eren, Connie, Mikasa and Ony were music majors at Paradis University which you all attended. Eren was the lowkey producer type that makes beats to rival the greats. Connie is a rising hip hop artist and Ony is a cross between Trap Soul and Rap. Mikasa was the soulful girl with a beautiful voice. You knew Ony never missed studio time for nothing, so you knew he was struggling.

"When last did he show up." Y/N asked Eren with some concern in her tone.

"Probably 2 months ago before that it was 3 months before that. Look you don't have to force yourself to talk to him or bear his wounds or help him heal from the mess he made on his own. It ain't your job to, What I'm asking is if you can hear him out even if its 5 minutes if you can't then Imma tell him to drop it."

You sat in silence for a bit truly wondering what to do, so you turned to Sasha. "Honestly I want to hear him out, I do but I need more time. I know everyone thinks I forgave Annie so easy, but Ony and I had something deeper than Annie and I had even with our years of friendship. Ya we were fighting and at odds that time but..I know I'm being dumb cause Annie is just as responsible as he was. I just need to clear my head some more."

Connie took a toke of his joint and passed it to Eren then Eren to Sasha. Sasha pulled out her phone and connected it to the speakers in your apartment and started playing L.E.S by Childish Gambino. They all passed the joint around the room you took a few hits here and there. Eren was mindlessly scrolling through his IG to see Ony posted a 15 sec video on IG with a link in the caption to his YouTube to his latest track Amphetamine.

Eren blurted out with a bit of shock, "What the fuck, Ony just dropped a new song. It looks like he changed his artist's name from Ony to Soro. I mean he mentioned the change last time he came in the studio. Yo Sasha disconnect real quick lemme listen to this real quick."

Sasha disconnected her phone to allow Eren to pull up the track. " The song is almost 8 mins WTF is Ony on" Eren says.

The beat kicks in with this smooth, laid-back vibe that immediately hooks you in. Everyone's silent giving the track a listen.

" It's like an amphetamine, how it marinate on my mind (stuck on me, yah) Got no doubt I'll be alright, if I just make it through the night."

You can hear, almost feel the range of emotions in the song. You can hear Ony's voice pouring out his feelings. The beat changes around 2:48 seconds in giving a whole different vibe to the song.

"Shawty cold as December, I still fold her, no Manila B-b-b-brr wit me baby, I hibernate, smoke the lettuce."

Everyone was vibing with the song until they heard Mikasa's voice drop on the track around 4:28 Everyone a bit surprised since Mikasa doesn't easily do features even if it's with her friends. Connie laughed a bit "He got Mikasa on this with him. Damn he really went all out. Aye Eren aint this the same beat he said he didn't want around 5 maybe 6 months ago?" Eren laughed thinking back to when he played this beat for Ony, and he said he hated it. Ony owed him big time for this, but he'll circle back to it. As the song finished. You sat with your eyes full of tears. You thought to yourself that you could feel every emotion Ony sang about in the song. The loss of their relationship, his struggles with his mental health and so much more.

Connie was the first the chime in when the song ended "Damn that was.... deep." "Yah it was Ony really flipped the script on this one." Eren chimed in.

Eren got a notification that Ony was live on IG. He clicked on it. He saw he was talking about his just dropped song and other usual shit that's going on in his life.

Ony's eyes were the newfound usual shade of slight bloodshot red from smoking and hardly any sleep. He was reading off a comment asking him who inspired him to write the song. he responded with "Someone but also no one."

Ony's voice flowed through the speakers in your apartment causing Eren to disconnect his phone to watch the live a bit easier.

He commented saying "Fire track man, wish you'd let me know you were droppin a song man."

Ony read the comment out loud and smirked and said "Sorry man. I wanted it to be a personal project, but I owe you one big time for the beat."

Ony and Eren were engaging in their usual banter in the comments of Ony's Instagram live. You were deep in thought when Ony read aloud a comment from someone claiming his song was inspired by his ex-girlfriend. Ony and you had a semi-public relationship, which is due to his rising fame as a Trap Soul/rap artist.

Ony sighed, his mind drifting back to the last time he saw you in person, when you came to return his belongings from your place. He had seen you around campus since then, but it simply wasn't the same. His response was "It was inspired by pain. Pain of loss, loss of love, loss of hopes, loss of dreams. Loss of self. She's part of something I lost in my life."

Ony paused, his gaze drifting off as he recalled the bittersweet memories. He took a deep breath, trying to push away the ache in his chest as he continued, his voice laden with emotion. "So yeah, she's part of what I lost, but 'Amphetamine' is also about finding myself again. It's about reclaiming my voice, my truth, and pouring it all out into my music."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though sadness lingered in his eyes. "Maybe one day she'll hear this song and understand. Understand that she's not just a memory, but a muse who ignited something within me, something I'll carry with me forever."

With that, Ony concluded, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. The live disconnected indicating he ended it abruptly.

As the live session ends abruptly, the room falls into a heavy silence. You, sits with a mix of emotions swirling within yourself. Ony's words echo in your mind, resonating deeply with your own conflicted feelings. You can't shake the sense of nostalgia and longing that his music and words evoke. Sasha breaks the silence, her voice soft yet determined. "Y/N, are you okay?" she asks, her concern evident.

You took a moment to collect your thoughts before responding. "I don't know, Sasha," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sasha nods understandingly, her eyes reflecting empathy. "I get it. It's hard to hear someone express their pain so openly, especially when it's intertwined with your own." Eren chimes in, his tone reflective. "Yeah, but maybe that's what he needs right now. It's better than him bottling it up and tryna smoke it all away."

Connie exhales a puff of smoke, his expression contemplative. "True, but it's also a lot to unpack. Y/N, you don't have to rush into anything. Take your time to process everything, to figure out what you need and want. What Ony did was messed up"

You nod, grateful for your friends' support. "Thanks, guys. I think…I think I need some time alone to sort through my thoughts."

With that que, Eren, Sasha and Connie left your apartment. you walk through your apartment heading to your room, the melody of Ony's song still echoing in your mind. Your emotions even more confusing than when you talked to Ony earlier. You looked at the time. It was almost 5 am. You decided to shower and head back to bed, hoping to get some rest before class.

Your mind was restless, torn between Ony's latest track and his words during the IG live, you were conflicted. On one hand, you acknowledged missing him, but on the other, infidelity was something you could never condone in a relationship. You recognized a desire to listen to his explanation, yet you feared your heart might not endure his version of the events.

The weight of Ony's words hangs heavy in the air, suffocating your mind with intense thoughts. Alone amidst the dim glow of your bedside lamp, the words "Maybe one day she'll hear this song and understand." taunt you with the possibility of reconciliation and closure. You thought to yourself "How could I ever hope to understand the depths of his pain when my own wounds still bleed with the memory of his betrayal?"

Finally entering your room, you sink onto the edge of the bed, burying your face in trembling hands, desperate to silence the cacophony of thoughts threatening to consume you.

"Take your time to process everything, to figure out what you need and want." Connie's words echo faintly in her mind. With a trembling sigh, you rise from the bed, your steps faltering as you make your way to the bathroom. The steady stream of water cascades over your trembling form, washing away the tears that stain your cheeks.

"It's 5 am. I should try to get some rest before class," you think to yourself. Climbing out of the shower, your limbs feel heavy. Wrapping yourself in a towel, the fabric offers a feeble shield against the lingering chill. You dress slowly, abandoning your usual routine for the simple comfort of bed, seeking to calm your mind. Eventually, you drift into sleep, the confusion in your heart, perhaps even greater than before.

*Slight Time Skip*

You finished up her class for the evening, your Textile Science class drained your mind. you run into Eren, Connie, Armin and Pieck in the courtyard chattin it up.

"Yo, Y/N!" Armin hollered, his grin wide as he motioned for her to come over. You gave a small nod, casually strolling over as they kept chattin'. It helped take your mind off things for a sec.

"So, y'all ready for tonight?" Armin asked, his eyes sparklin' with excitement. "Tonight?" you echoed, feeling a bit lost.

Armin leaned in closer, speakin' low like it was a secret. "The party, It's goin' down at my place. everybody's rolling through." You thought about if Ony was gonna be there since going Armin's parties was one of their go to things as a couple.

You shifted uncomfortably, tryna come up with an excuse to bail but before you could say anythin', Sasha and Mikasa slid through, bringin' a burst of energy to the scene. "Hey, y'all!" Sasha greeted; her smile infectious as she pulled you into a hug.

Mikasa gave a nod, her expression serious as she peeped Y/N with concern.

"Y/N, you gotta come through tonight," Pieck chimed in, her voice smooth and persuasive. "You never show up to the parties, and it's gonna be lit." Y/N hesitated, caught between the comfort of being alone and the fear of missing out on the squad's vibe.

Just then, Ony strolled past, casting a shadow over Y/N's mood. She felt a surge of anger bubbling up inside, memories of their messy situation flooding back.

Armin, clueless as ever, turned to Ony with a hopeful grin. "Yo, you coming tonight, Ony?"

Ony glanced at you for a sec before turning back to Armin, his face unreadable. But before he could answer, you spoke up with fire in your voice. "I ain't showing if he's gonna be there," you stated, pointing your finger at Ony with a fierce look.

The air got heavy; the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Y/N's heart raced as she waited for Ony's response. But instead of coming back at you, Ony just nodded quietly, his eyes holding a hint of regret before he dipped out.

You caught the concerned glances of your friends. You knew your emotions were a bit confusing being torn between wanting to hear him out, missing him then not wanting to be around him. Even though almost much time had passed, her emotions still felt raw.

You looked around to your friend group who was gauging your reaction to seeing Ony. Each stare, felt like a trap a push to make a decision you weren't ready for.

"I can't do this," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you took a step back, your eyes darting between your friends and a mental escape route. Sasha's hand on your arm stopped you in your tracks, her grip firm yet gentle. "You can't run from this forever, Y/N, you're gonna have to address this or find the will to move on" she said softly, her eyes reflecting a depth of understanding. You stared at Sasha's face trying to gauge her facial expression and reaction "I know, Sash I know." you whispered hoarsely, your voice cracking with emotion. "But I'm not ready to face him, not yet. I don't know if I ever will be."

With that said you turned and left them there, briskly walking back to catch an uber back to your apartment.

----------------------------While you left-----------------------------------

Eren stared at Armin, scoffing with annoyance "Bro, how you gonna forget they ain't together no more? Ony straight up did her dirty with Annie."

Armin sighed and took a step back. "I know but they're both my friends and I want them both to be happy and come out more. guess I messed up by asking them out around each other. It's just that we hardly get to chill with both of them around, you know...it's tough."

Eren shook his head, his frustration evident in his furrowed brow. "I get that, Armin, but you gotta realize it's not just about them being happy. Ony really hurt Y/N, man. And seeing him around just brings back all that pain."

Armin's shoulders slumped in defeat, his expression reflecting the weight of his guilt. "I know, Eren, I know," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I just... I don't know how to fix this mess."

Sasha, who had been listening quietly, spoke up with a sympathetic tone. "Maybe there's no quick fix, Armin. Sometimes all we can do is give them space and time to heal, you know?"

Connie nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "Yeah, sometimes the best thing we can do is just be there for them when they're ready to talk or when they need us."

Armin sighed; his gaze heavy with regret. "You're right," he admitted, a sense of resignation settling over him. "I just hope they both find their way through this, somehow."

Previous Next

[sunnie-angel]

Part 2: The Decision

part 1 | part 3 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: jason todd easily sees the potential for something more in his friendship with you but resolves to keep his distance.

tags: fluff, self-loathing, off-screen killing

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.8k

a/n: sooo i had planned to get the second chapter out much sooner, wrote it, realized that what i had planned for chapter 3 worked better, had to rewrite chapter 3 as chapter 2, and ended up here (cue the internal screaming). on the upside, that means you’ll all get an update on chapter 3 (formerly chapter 2) much sooner.

Jason Todd has somehow gotten back on track to graduate university, fallen in with a group of friends, and may have found the first person to truly understand him this side of the Pit. He’d been uncertain about finishing university, already dealing with the hassle of running a criminal empire and the tattered threads of his family relationships. But Talia had suggested, “Better not to be consumed by revenge so that one may properly enjoy its results,” and that had been all it took to convince him. Barbara, for all their problems still unresolved, had helped him hide the decision from the bats and hadn’t that been a lovely conversation to have?

Sitting in class that first day had been strange, a sense of deja vu hitting him of all the times he’d sat in classrooms before. A different person answers now when he’s called on to introduce Jason Todd. As part of his time with the League, Talia had arranged for him to take courses by correspondence but none of that had prepared him for it would be like to be in a classroom with a handful of 20-somethings. It makes him feel old to hear them discuss their plans for the future with the surety of a world that will shape itself to their expectations. If he’s honest with himself, it also makes him envious.

He hadn’t expected to be invited to lunch that first day, though he’d at least seen the blonde’s approach. It had been… nice to be noticed, like he was any other 22 year old new to campus and looking for friends. What had really caught Jason’s eye though was Danika’s (that’s what her name was, right?) friend, standing a few rows back. She’d looked downright mortified by her friend’s antics but had smiled tentatively at him anyway. He’d rushed through his meeting with Dr. Okafor, really just confirming a time to discuss his credit transfers. Clearly he’s interrupted yet another embarrassing moment for you, but you handle it with a grace that rivals only Alfred’s ability to deal with inconvenient situations.

That intrigues him though, your kindness even when uncomfortable. Finding out you’re from home, another Crime Alley kid that defied the odds but never forgot your roots endears you to him even more. You bite back, take the attention away from him when you see how flustered he is by Lina calling him pretty and he’s determined now to make you a friend.

You’re smaller than he thought once you’re finally sitting next to him. He’s acutely aware of how the booth forces the two of you together, the long length of him pressed up against your side. The way your knee knocks into his thigh and the soft cushion of where your hip meets his. You’re one of his already, one of those that the Red Hood has claimed as under his protection, but the reality of you drives home who his work is really helping. Your mention of food pulls him out of his thoughts and scrambling to rectify the situation by offering to share his own. He’s positively delighted by your reaction, the way your compliments freely given still have a bite to them that’s honest. A warmth in his stomach that doesn’t originate from the spices in his meal only makes him want to figure out more ways to draw you out of your shell.

You share another class with him in the afternoon and he’s thanking whichever lucky star is smiling down at him that he’ll get you to himself at least once a week for the next few months. Walking into class with an acquaintance, though maybe it's too soon to call you that, is everything he wanted in the time from Before. Lost day dreams of sharing a desk with a friend in high school, hanging out together after, longings for in-jokes and shared histories are rearing their heads. Class passes quickly, a flurry of information and a hyper awareness of how close his body is to yours. It’s only an introductory class, but already he can tell that you’re clever from the few times you speak up. Makes him look forward to the next class when he’d never planned for academics to be his priority.

Class lets out into the evening air just starting to turn crisp with a hint of dampness. He’ll have to go soon, get started with patrol now that darkness was coating the city. He turns to you and distracts himself from the strip of skin where your shirt rides up as you stretch by asking you about your plans for the evening. Walking you to the bus stop is nice, in a quiet kind of way. He stays until he’s sure you’re safely on the bus, doors closing with a pneumatic hiss. Walks off the path and out of the halo of the street lamp until the shadows have swallowed him whole. Takes care to check that no one’s looking and scales the side of the building, gothic stonework rough under his bare palms. Scans the horizon until he’s found your bus again and goes to follow. Thinks that maybe the paranoia that had persuaded him to pack most of his Hood gear in a school bag isn’t the worst thing to suffer from. It’s overboard yeah, but you’re a pretty girl planning to walk alone at night. He just wants to make sure that you get home all right. You weren’t exaggerating when you said the bus stop was only a block from your apartment, but he still breathes easier when he sees the warm glow of lamp light click on through your apartment window. You should have better locks on your window if it’s looking out onto a fire escape, he thinks idly. But its a problem for later and when he’s got a more solid reason to bring it up.

Patrol is quiet most of the night. Buoyed by the unexpected success of the day, his usual route feels brand new. He takes pleasure in the way the wind picks up his jacket and whips it around him, almost laughs out loud at the way his stomach swoops before the grappling line pulls taut. Jason’s managed a full day of normalcy, something that no one thought he could do. Not after everything. He’d talked to people his age that for once weren’t the victim of some terrible crime and came away with the potential for friendships. It’s been a long time since he’s had more than a work related conversation with his men or a cryptic conversation with Talia he doesn’t count all the arguments with his fath— with Bruce. For the first time in a long time being the Hood isn’t the burden it had become. The peace doesn’t last for long though.

A whisper of black fabric on a rooftop just outside of the territory he’s established brings him crashing back down, a reminder of just how badly his attempts at anything other than solitude have fractured. It’s a bracing kind hurt, like when the air’s too cold after a snowfall and you can practically taste the ice crystals as they tear into the soft heat of your lungs. He needs it though, that reminder that no one who knows him is capable of seeing him without the siren call of suspicion following him. That thought follows him through the rest of patrol and the mechanical motions of getting to bed. It solidifies as he drifts off to sleep just as the first rays of light start to clear the skyline. He’ll grasp at this chance to be someone else for a bit, Jason Todd the fresh faced student, but that’s all it’ll be. A façade to keep everyone else from getting too close. Danika, Will, “call me Lina”, Rei, even you. Friends, but at a distance.

Jason doesn’t have any classes on Tuesday, but he runs into you as he exits his meeting with Dr. Okafor. It’s a new building to him, despite the time he’s spent pouring over all of the campus’ blueprints. He turns a corner on a staircase looking for an exit and almost knocks you back down where you’d just emerged from.

“Hey! Are you blind or— oh. Jason.” Your tone goes from indignant to wondering in a second, eyes wide with recognition.

“Not blind, but definitely not paying enough attention. You good though?” And he should probably be a little more sorry about it, but the glee of not having to wait until the next week to see you again outweighs it.

“Oh after the class I just had, it’d take a lot more than that to ruin my day.” A group tries to pass you two on the stairs, buffets the two of you into the railing.

“You wanna take this somewhere else? Give me another chance to ruin your day?” He grins, lopsided but hopeful.

You nod, and he leads the way, hulking figure cutting through the stream of people. He finds a nook on the first floor, big overstuffed chairs surprisingly empty for this time of day. You throw yourself into a chair dramatically, a sigh on your lips as your head tilts back.

“Class really that bad?” He prompts you.

“God I hate assholes that manage to make the most interesting subject painful. Like, at least wait until the second class before you start telling every single student their interpretation is wrong.” You swipe a hand across your face before visibly trying to pull yourself back together. “But as much as I hate Duvall’s teaching it’s mandatory for my program so I’m just gonna have to put up with his shit until next semester. Get my revenge during prof evaluations.”

“Look we don’t know each other that well, but by my reckonin’ you know what you’re on about. Don’t let him shake you, yeah?”

“Oh I know all about not listening to people that think my opinion isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. It just pisses me off that I still gotta deal with it every week for the foreseeable future.”

“Hey I’m all ears.” He offers, and it’s not entirely altruistic. Jason wants to support you, but it’s also a chance to learn more about you. It’s all a chance to be regular civilian he tells himself, and a civilian would do this for a friend.

“I’d love to but I think it’s right about—“ and the alarm on your phone sounds out, “yep, its about time for me to head to my internship.” You start to gather your things together. “But usually our group gets together on Wednesday afternoons to grab lunch and study together. We usually grab the same table in the student union around noon if you want to join us.”

Jason does join the study session, not that he needs to. But it's nice to spend time with people who like who they think he is. He arrives just as you slide into the booth, secures himself the seat next you (and the rest of the bench for himself). Your hair falls as you spread out your books and Jason’s close enough to smell whatever product you used last. It dazes him for a minute, and its only the arrival of Lina and Rei that shakes him out of his stupor. He starts up a conversation with Rei on the Gotham U swim team and gets roped in to come practice with him sometime next week. Not to be out done, Lina gently starts asking him how he’s settling in. He answers noncommittally, more focused on the way you’ve started to twirl your pen between your fingers as you come across a particularly dense passage. Seeming to understand that she won’t get much more out of Jason, Lina nudges Rei and they turn to their own books, though not without a tight-lipped and knowing smile on her face. The four of you work in silence broken only by the scribbling of pens and clacking of keyboards. Danika and Will turn up just as your stomach starts rumbling, causing you to meet Jason’s eyes in embarrassment.

He winks at you, before pulling out two Tupperware containers with chopsticks. Sliding one over to you he pretends not to notice as at first you protest, then guiltily start digging in as soon as you smell it.

Brandishing your chopsticks at him, you say “Don’t think I’m not keeping score mister. This has got to count as psychological warfare, there’s no way a sane person could turn you down after tasting your food once.”

He tucks a smile away and simply keeps eating. Will drags over some chairs for him and Danika, the one extra person throwing off your previously established seating arrangements. Conversation buzzes at the other end of the table but he can’t tear his attention away from you enjoying the labours of his hands. Eventually the table turns back to studying and you slide the container back to him with murmured words of thanks. Even you can only study for so long, so it's no great surprise when your books softly thump closed. You rest your forehead on the table and groan.

“Why is there so much reading? It’s only the first week back.”

“Ooooh, you know what that means though?” Danika exclaims. “We have to celebrate the first week back and that means going out! We’ll get dressed up, I’ll do your makeup, we can pregame at mine. You know you want to.” She wheedles.

You mock groan at her pronouncement, turn to rest your temple on the table to make eye contact with her. “Lina does my makeup and we’re done by 1 AM.”

“Awe, killjoy,” the blonde pouts.

“Lina does my makeup, Jason’s in charge of picking the post-club takeout, and we’re done by 2 AM. Final offer.”

Lina grins at Jason before shrugging. “Fine by me.”

Jason’s not sure what to expect when he shows up to the address Danika had sent through the group text. It’s a nicer part of town, a part of Gotham Heights he’s had no reason to visit as either of his identities. The doorman lets him in without too much fuss once Danika calls down to confirm he’s expected. She lets him in excitedly, limbs uncoordinated with the help of a few drinks. Rei leans forward to pour Jason a drink and at the same time you turn to look for who had arrived. The first thing Jason notices is the shiny red lip gloss you’re wearing as your lips spread into a smile at the sight of them. Something about the colour, bolder than you usually wear, sends heat straight to his groin. He hadn’t even realized that his hearing had gone muffled until Rei asks him for a second time how many shots Jason wants in his drink. Oh, he thinks distractedly. This could be a problem.

It definitely is a problem when he’s washing blood off his hands in the early hours of the morning and the only thing he can think of is that same cherry red lip gloss wrapped around the straw of your drink under the club’s strobing lights. How you’d looked up at him with pupils dilated from the drink and the heat, lips parted and gloss catching the light. The self-loathing hits then, crippling in its intensity. You’re smart and funny and so pretty it makes his breath catch. The last thing you need is him fantasizing after you less than an hour after he’d taken a life. The colour of a man’s life blood shouldn’t be causing him desperate to see if you’d taste as sweet as you look. It’s selfish and cowardly but he doesn’t want to give you up just yet. Doesn’t want to see the little smiles and commiserating looks turn to fear and hatred just yet. No, he can do this. He can smile and play nice, play at the Jason Todd you deserve. The one that won’t make you worry or hurt you with the truth of himself. Rules, he decides, rules are what he needs because it’s oh so easy to get caught up in you.

He can get close, but he can’t touch. It doesn’t matter how soft your skin looks or how tempting it would be to play with your hair. If he lets himself touch he is lost.

He will never let himself enter your home. He’s already followed you there, it’s a lost cause to pretend that he won’t check up on your safety. Better to decide now to never cross that final threshold.

He won’t let you in. He’ll be the best friend he is capable of being but he won’t let you see the truth of him. After all, it’s what’s sent those that know him running.

He will never tell you that he’s ever thought about anything more than friendship.

Part 3

[ddejavvu]

im not like an overly creative person when it comes to requesting stuff (sorry also im a lil drunk rn) but i saw ur thing abt wanting ppl to send u anakin stuff n i jus want u to know that like. that blurb u wrote abt him sticking his fingers in his girl's mouth destroyed me im jus imagining him playin w my mouth in the morning to wake me up

this was sent in almost a month ago but i sincerely want you to know that i read it at least once a day. i haven't had the time lately to give it proper attention but it's been on my brain since conception, thank you <3

this post is 18+, minors dni.

It's not the sunlight that wakes you, nor is it the traffic outside. It's fingers, fingertips, prodding at your stiff gums and making the malleable flesh of your cheek extrude. There's an ache when it's pulled too far and your eyes open, not enough of a startle response as you should have when you wake up to someone poking and prodding around your teeth.

You're unsurprised to find Anakin staring intently at you, his eyes locked onto the pink flesh of your gums as they whiten where he presses. He pulls at your bottom lip when he notices you're awake, and you move your head with it so that he doesn't tear it clean off.

He feeds your lip right into his mouth, kissing you with fervor he shouldn't have this early in the morning. He had tugged on your lower lip but it's your upper he fixates on, tongue tracing your teeth like his fingers do. Your lower lip suckles lazily against his own, and his nose briefly butts against yours before he angles his head differently to pull you in impossibly closer.

He does something so entirely Anakin, something you'd recoil from if it came from anyone else: He takes a moment to gather a mouthful of spit from his own throat, then pushes another kiss to your open, waiting mouth to feed his saliva past your lips.

It's messy, some streaks down the side of your mouth and soaks into the silken pillowcases you'd bought to preserve both your hair and Anakin's. They're new and you mourn the stain on them, but your brain isn't able to worry for very long before Anakin pulls his mouth away from your own to study the way his spit drips down your face.

He prods between your sealed lips with his fingers, but he muscles your head into a semi-upright position so that the load of spit in your mouth doesn't spill. It soaks his fingers but he watches it blend with your own, watches it spread around your mouth, drown your teeth, coat your tongue.

His breath puffs from his thoughtfully parted lips, fanning over your own and beginning to dry the spit on your face. You let him watch, content to lounge while Anakin's spit becomes your spit. When it's mingled with your own, when there's no discerning which saliva is his and which yours, you tuck your tongue to the roof of your mouth, swallowing it all as one blended essence.

Anakin doesn't speak- this odd habit of his, this unusual fixation is never one he feels he needs to explain or apologize for. All he does is lean in and kiss your mouth again, much less wet this time than the first.

When he draws back he reaches into your mouth one last time with spit-soaked fingers. He grabs hold of your tongue, pulling it from the protection of your teeth and leaning in to press his puckered lips to its surface. Your gag reflex begs to constrict your throat but you muscle it down, letting Anakin's nose eclipse the crescent-moon of your lower jaw.

You chase it with a kiss when he draws back, and his brows furrow, his face curving into an amused grin like you're the weird one. You ignore it, though, letting him sink back into the warmth of the slept-in sheets.

His chest makes the perfect resting place for your face, and his hand raises to blanket your jaw. His palm covers your cheek, and his thumb rests against the seal of your lips. You don't need to part them- he will, if he wants inside. You simply let your eyes flutter shut, leaning in to the pressure against your lips and puckering them gently against the pad of Anakin's thumb.

[stylesispunk]

"A broken ankle, karma rules"

no outbreak! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: you slipped on ice in front of your neighbor Joel and he ran to help you. warning: none besides a broken ankle, "peach" is reader's nickname, and probably grammar mistakes because I wrote this too fast. Word count: 2,6k a/n: This is the last piece of writing for the Christmas season! It's a short one but a lovely one. I'm actually dying because it's too hot here in my country (perhaps because Pedro is here) I hope you have a lovely Christmas Eve, take care of yourself and I hope there is so much love for you on your way!

dividers by @/plum98

It has been five months since your neighbor, Joel had moved to the house next to yours, in a neighborhood mostly habited by lovely elderly people, you were the youngest woman in this street, and the sweetheart, loved by everyone around. Well, you, your kind heart, warm personality, and the delicious pastries you baked since you were a professional baker.

And of course, the arrival of Joel changed the course of events at the neighborhood, at that sunny morning when he parked his car in front of his house, full of his belongings, clearly indicating he was taking the house.

At first, you didn’t understand the commotion outside when you spotted 3 of the ladies chatting and laughing with an unknown guy on the cobblestones in front of your yard, just when you were leaving for work.

As a shy person, you sometimes hated the new introductions and tried your best to avoid them, but this morning it seemed like the odds weren’t in your favor. Once you stepped outside your door, the three heads, well now four, turned to you, smiling, and the chatting stop abruptly.  You could swear the eyes of the stranger wide at your presence. You felt the rush creeping up your cheeks and swallow, making your war downstairs your porch.

“It’s our lovely baker here, come on sweats pea, let us introduce you both” one of the ladies said, her name was Betty and he was a lovely woman in her 80s.

You walked towards them, avoiding the lump in your throat and the stammer on your heart at the presence of the men next to Betty.

“Look, Joel. She is our lovely peach. Well, that’s not her name but we all call her that because she bakes the best peach tarts in this town” she beamed.

“Hi, nice to meet you, peach” he smirked, “I’m Joel” he took your hand to shake, and you swore there was an electric touch once your hands made contact.

"Joel, you have tried her peach tarts" Betty asked with a sly smile.

Joel, catching on to the playful matchmaking, replied, "I would love to."

As you blushed at that, Betty seized the moment. "Well, you're in for a treat! Peach, why don't you tell Joel about your baking journey? It's such a fascinating story."

“Well, I’m actually have to go to work but I-you. I’m, we can’t talk later” you replied, shyly, making your  

“And again, nice to meet you, Joel. I” you smiled, trying to avoid looking into his eyes.

It has been five months since that morning and you could say you and Joel got along well since then, you wouldn’t say you were both friends but you clearly could say you were on good terms and he was a great neighbor.

Since then, you had found out he was single, no wife, not girlfriend and not daughter, but he did have a dog that always switched his time between your house and his, trying somehow to pull you and Joel together.

And now, as the winter sky painted hues of lavender color in the horizon, you found yourself bundled up in a cozy blanket, sitting on the bench outside your doors with a steaming cup of tea cradled between your hands. The air was crisp, and the soft glow of holiday lights adorned the houses, casting a warm and festive ambiance.

Joel, with his dog by his side, approached quietly, the soft crunch of leaves beneath his boots announcing his presence. The winter silence was interrupted only by the distant sound of carolers and the occasional jingle of bells from some houses, and his presence.

"It's enchanting, isn't it?" Joel remarked, his breath forming a mist in the cold air as he settled beside you.

You smiled, the warmth of the tea contrasting with the chilly breeze, "Yes, there's something nice about winter evenings. Especially on the eve of Christmas."

Joel nodded, his gaze capturing the twinkle of Christmas lights around the neighborhood. "Absolutely. It's my first winter here, but there's a special charm to this season."

He turned to you, taking a look of your side profile looking at the sky. He hadn’t really paid attention of the beautiful features adorning your face. For him, you were clearly a gorgeous woman, but right now in the quietness of a winter afternoon and gorgeous colors around, he thought you looked breathtaking, and his heart stopped beating for a second.

He cleared his throat, “So, any plans for tomorrow night?”

You contemplated your answer for a while before answering the question, “Well, I’m just driving to my parents’ house. We aren’t really a big family so I’m spending the night with them” you smiled, turning to your side to face Joel “What about you?”

“With my parents. I mean they’re coming and my lil’ brother and kids. They all want to know the place I’m living now” he chuckled.

“If is not a bother, I would love to ask you if you could bake a peach tart for me?” his big brown eyes shone under the soft light left of the day “you promised once you would bring me one but you didn’t so…”

Your heart fluttered at the genuine warmth in Joel's request, and the winter chill seemed to retreat in the face of the newfound connection between you two.

"Of course, Joel. I'd be happy to bake a peach tart for you. It's the least I can do for my neighbor and his family," you replied, a grin spreading across your face.

Joel's eyes lit up with gratitude, and he flashed a grateful smile. "Thanks, peach. I can't wait to taste one." He stepped up from beside you and flashed you another smile “So, see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll knock at your door with a peach tart.” you beamed.

As you got ready to drive to your parent's house, your mind was filled with the joy of giving and the anticipation of the holiday night.

Before hitting the road, you took extra care in preparing the peach tart for Joel. The sweet aroma of baking filled your kitchen, creating an atmosphere of warmth and festivity. Once the tart was baked to perfection, you carefully wrapped it in a festive box, adding a touch of holiday magic with a ribbon.

The night before, the snow had painted the neighborhood in a blanket of white, transforming the cobblestones and rooftops into a winter wonderland. As you stepped outside, the chill of the morning air nipped at your nose, and you couldn't help but marvel at the serene beauty of the snowy landscape.

With the box in hand, you made your way carefully towards Joel's house, navigating the slippery cobblestones with caution. The snow had turned the quaint neighborhood into a picturesque scene, and the holiday lights twinkled against the snowy backdrop.

But just before you reached the stairs of the porch, your misstep, slipping on the icy pavement. A gasp escaped your lips, and time seemed to slow for a moment. The festive box containing the carefully prepared peach tart tumbled from your hands, landing with a soft thud on the snowy ground. Your heart raced as you tried to regain your balance, but the slippery surface had other plans.

“Damn it!” you yelled, at the impact, and you winced as you felt the cold seeping through your winter attire.

Just as the echoes of your frustration lingered in the air, a door creaked open. Joel, having heard your exclamation, rushed out of his house with concern etched on his face. His eyes widened as he took in the scene, the fallen box, the snowy ground, and you, trying to gather yourself.

"Peach, are you okay?" he called out, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You managed a sheepish smile as you felt the flush on your cheeks, "I'm fine, just a little clumsy in the snow."

Joel hurried over; his steps cautious on the slippery pavement. "Here, let me help you up," he offered, extending a hand.

But you yelped in pain as you tried to stand up, a sharp twinge radiating from your ankle.

Joel's expression shifted from concern to alarm as he saw the discomfort etched across your face. "Hold on, Peach. Don't force yourself up. Are you hurt?"

You winced, clutching your ankle. "I think I might have twisted it. It hurts."

Without hesitation, Joel carefully crouched down beside you, his eyes scanning for any signs of serious injury. "Let me take a look," he said, his voice calm and reassuring.

As he examined your ankle, you couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. The peach tart, now forgotten in the snowy commotion, lay beside you. The chilly air seemed to intensify as Joel's worried gaze focused on your ankle.

"I'm no expert, but it might be best if we get you inside and have a closer look," Joel suggested, his concern evident on his voice.

You nodded, appreciating his attentiveness. With Joel's support, you managed to stand, albeit with difficulty. Together, you limped towards his front door, the snow underfoot now a hindrance rather than a picturesque setting.

Once inside, Joel helped you settle into a chair. "I think it might be a good idea to have a doctor take a look at your ankle. I can drive you to the hospital."

But instead of uttering a word, you started crying. Embarrassment and sadness clouded your mind, with a possible broken ankle you wouldn’t be able to drive to your parent’s house and you just had ruined Joel’s tart.

Joel, seeing your distress, knelt down beside you, his expression a blend of concern and empathy. "Hey, it's okay. Accidents happen, and your health is what matters most right now. We'll figure things out."

“But I ruined your tart” you sobbed, into your palms.

“I don’t care about the tart now, but you, okay? Let me drive you to the hospital” he said, looking out his car keys.

“No, Joel, I can drive myself” you insisted, attempting to push away the feeling of being a burden.

"Don't be a dummy, peach," he said, using the endearing nickname. Joel gently took your hands away from your face, looking into your eyes with sincerity. "Your health is more important. We'll figure out the rest later. Let me help you."

Feeling embarrassed, you nodded, realizing the truth in his words. With Joel's support, you allowed him to guide you to his car, the winter chill contrasting with the warmth of his concern.

As Joel drove carefully through the snowy streets to the hospital, a quiet and comfortable silence settled between you two. The twinkling Christmas lights outside seemed to blur in the background as your thoughts focused on the unexpected turn of events.

"I appreciate your help, Joel," you finally said, breaking the silence.

He glanced at you, a reassuring smile on his face. "That's what neighbors do, right? Look out for each other. Plus, I wouldn't want you driving with a potentially broken ankle."

Your previous accident hit you again, and you sighed. "This wasn't how I imagined spending Christmas Eve."

Joel nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Life has a way of surprising us. Perhaps, something good may happen after this” he said, looking to the front of the road.

Arriving at the hospital, Joel helped you out of the car and into the emergency room. As you waited for the doctor, the events of the day played in your mind. Despite the unexpected twists, you found solace in the genuine care Joel had shown towards you right now, as he took care of you by holding your hand tightly as you both wait for the doctor to attend your ankle.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor finally arrived, breaking the quiet tension in the emergency room. Joel stood by your side, holding your hand tightly, offering a reassuring anchor as the doctor began to assess your ankle.

The doctor examined the X-rays and then turned to you with a composed expression. "Well, it seems you have a broken ankle. Nothing too severe, but you'll need to be cautious and follow the recommended care for a proper recovery."

You nodded, absorbing the news with a mix of resignation, and the doctor continued to explain the care instructions, detailing the use of crutches, the importance of keeping weight off the injured foot, and the expected timeline for healing.

Joel listened attentively; his concern evident in his eyes. However, to your surprise, the doctor, with a knowing smile, glanced between you and Joel.

"You're fortunate to have such a supportive boyfriend," the doctor said, assuming Joel was your boyfriend.

“Oh, he is-“

“Of course, everything for taking care of my girl” Joel interrupted, playing along with the assumption. He smiled warmly at you, as the grip on your hand gently tightened.

You exchanged a surprised glance with Joel, realizing that he was choosing to support the charade. The doctor continued, providing further guidance and answering any questions you both had.

As the appointment concluded, the doctor left the room, leaving you and Joel alone once again. You couldn't help but feel confusion at Joel’s behavior.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, curious.

Joel looked at you with a sheepish grin, his eyes reflecting a mix of playfulness and sincerity. "Well, it just seemed easier at the moment. Plus, I didn't want to complicate things. It's not like it's hurting anyone, right?"

“oh” you said, your tone disappointed.

“And because I think you are beautiful” he said, once he felt the disappointed in your voice “And I don’t care about peach tarts when I would rather taste the lips of the person who bakes them” he confessed.

Joel's confession hung in the air, and you found yourself caught between surprise and a growing warmth in your cheeks.

"I didn't mean to disappoint you," Joel said, a hint of concern in his eyes.

Your disappointment had quickly shifted to a mixture of surprise and something else—a fluttering sensation in your stomach. "No, Joel, it's not that. I just didn't expect—"

He gently interrupted, "Expect the unexpected, right? Life has a way of surprising us, I told you earlier” he said, smirking.

"Beautiful, huh?" you teased, attempting to lighten the moment.

Joel grinned, "Oh, absolutely.” He continued, "And as for the peach tart, I'd gladly trade it for a taste of something sweeter."

With a subtle shift, Joel leaned in, closing the distance between you. The moment felt like a suspended breath, a pause in time where the unexpected had become a canvas for something beautiful.

Your heart raced as Joel's lips met yours, the taste of your lips was just as sweet as he imagined, and the world outside, covered in a blanket of white, seemed to fade away as the warmth of your new found connection met in both of your lips moving against each other.

As the kiss deepened, you started to feel breathless, a rush of emotions swirling within you, and you even felt grateful for breaking your ankle because it led you to Joel.

the taste of the shared kiss created a sense of completeness, as if the universe had conspired to bring you together on this snowy Christmas Eve. The initial disappointment and frustration had given way to a profound appreciation for the serendipitous journey that had unfolded throughout the day.

When the kiss finally broke, you found yourself looking into Joel's eyes, a silent language being spoken between looks.

“Yes, definitely sweeter than a tart” Joel remarked, a playful glint in his eyes.

Joel remarked, the playful glint in his eyes creating a shared laughter that echoed in the quiet space.

You chuckled, the joy of the moment enveloping you both. "I guess breaking my ankle wasn't the worst thing that could've happened today."

Joel grinned, "Who would've thought a slip on the icy pavement could lead to all this?" His eyes held amusement

“Merry Christmas, peach,” he said, kissing you again.