#okay i held back posting this but another day of it on repeat and i cannot handle it!!!!!!!!

[beej-hunnicutt]

Today will always be the most perfect, dreary, yet utterly romantic and beautiful love song. It's soooooooo 😭😭😭😭

[xoluvx]

1. can u do a billie smut where u (reader) r in bed naked and billies working late n she comes home to find u like that in bed and RAILS like proper RAILSSS the reader 😉

2. billie is frustrated and u help her relax

doing the first request for this one .. might do the second one in another post 😋 enjoyyyy

It'd been a long exhausting day. When you got home you headed straight for the bathroom. You were in desperate need of a shower. The cool water felt heavenly on your skin. Your muscles relaxed instantly.

When you got out of the shower, you didn't bother getting dressed. You'd air dry today since your girlfriend wasn't home yet, not that you wouldn't gladly walk around naked in her presence. She'd been working late in the studio this week, so you took this time to do whatever you wanted.

Leaving a trail of water, you wandered into the kitchen for something to snack on. The savory sweet treat lightened your mood and you sipped some water before heading back to your room.

Scrolling endlessly through your phone, you consumed the multiple posts that flooded your social media. You were so enthralled in your phone, you didn't hear the footsteps approaching the room.

The door was open so your girlfriend just sauntered in. Her smile grew bigger, if that was even possible.

"Wow, for me?" she goofed approaching the bed taking off her jacket. She threw it on the bench at the end of the bed and you sat up, breasts bouncing with delight.

You greeted her with open arms and she happily cupped your face kissing you tenderly. Your arms clung to her back, the roughness of her clothes contrasted with your lotioned skin. It didn't take long for the kiss to turn feverish. Her hand traveled to your neck and you moaned from the pressure.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard," Billie snarled, her lips sloppily moving to your cheek where she planted a final kiss.

She stepped away getting rid of her clothes in a flash. Her toned body stared back at you and you drooled with anticipation. She flashed you her perfectly perky ass when she opened the closet. A small section of it dedicated to your collection of dildos and vibrators.

"Which one should I use?" she asked and you squirmed not knowing what she had in store.

She came back with a pink frilly blindfold. Fuck, this could only mean one thing. She wasn't going to be nice tonight.

"Is this okay?" she asked approaching you. Her face softened waiting for your response.

"Yes," you swallowed and she tied the blindfold around your head covering your eyes. Her fingertips dragged down your neck and your chest rose at the touch.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" she whispered, her face now close to yours. Nodding, you felt her presence disappear only to reappear a few seconds later. She pushed you back on the bed, your arms sprawled on the mattress. Nipples hardening in suspense.

Billie's wet mouth was on your skin in seconds; you shivered. Her tongue rotated around your bud, her other hand palming your breast. She focused on your nipple, sucking, licking, slapping your tit before repeating the same motions on the other. As she sucked, she let her teeth sink on your skin and you moaned loudly arching your back. You simply felt her chuckle on your skin.

Her tongue ran a stripe between your breasts and up your throat. Your hands didn't know where to rest, you just bunched the sheets instead. When she kissed your jaw you felt her fill you up. Slowly, painfully slow. She'd chosen the biggest dildo you owned. You didn't even have to see to know.

When she was all the way in, you felt her skin press on yours. She stayed like for a moment planting kisses along your jaw, down your neck, back up your neck and finally your lips. You kissed back feeling her breasts lean on yours, you took this as an opportunity to wrap your arms around her shoulders.

With little warning she was all the way out, only the tip of dildo held you open. Then she pounded into you and the moan that filled the room was pornographic.

Her hips were fast. Incredibly fast, pushing into you ruthlessly. You felt her so deep, you were seeing stars in the darkness of the blindfold. Your mouth remained open, moans spilling off your tongue.

"You like that?" she groaned and you replied with a 'fuck yes' only encouraging her to fuck into you harder. She adjusted herself moving off the bed. With her legs planted on the floor, she pulled you lower. You felt empty and confused.

She took your legs holding them up against her body. The dildo slid into your pussy again. You felt it deeper in this new position. Soon enough she settled on the same speed as before fucking you so hard your skin slapped loudly. She leaned down, your legs over her shoulders, and kissed you.

You attacked her lips like you'd never tasted her before. Each kiss interrupted by a moan, a fuck, a yes, a fuck yes, a right there, a don't stop.

Her hand found its way to your neck, stifling your moans and groans. Her skin rubbing against your clit each time she thrusted. Each time rougher than the last, harder than the last.

Letting go of your neck, lips still resting on yours swallowing your cries, she hooked her arms under your shoulders pulling you down with each thrust. The dildo hitting every sweet pleasurable spot.

"Cum for me," she purred and you held your eyes shut even though you couldn't see anything. The simple gesture of squeezing your eyes traveled down your body, piercing your nipples, shooting through pussy and down to the bottom of your tingling feet.

Billie nuzzled her face in your neck still thrusting with no mercy. She felt the way your body quaked. The sudden silence that only meant one thing.

"Please baby," she pleaded and you surrendered letting your body reach eternal bliss. Billie pressed her lips on your cheek.

"Good girl," she whispered and those words alone made your body quiver again. She was still deep in you, she started moving but your hands felt their way down to her ass holding her in place. You weren't ready for the emptiness just yet.

Billie obliged and she held herself in place. She pushed the blindfold up to your sweat coated forehead and your eyes fluttered open to witness her plump rosy lips. She smiled biting her lip and you smiled back giggling.

"That was-" you sighed contently feeling the rush in your nipples again.

Billie cupped your face kissing you gently. It was so soft in comparison to what'd just transpired.

[cindyss]

heyy! could you do a Theo X female reader, where the reader is Mattheo's and Tom's little sister? And they kinda have a secret relationship because Theo is Mattheo's best friend and Mattheo would not be happy about it... And also, could it be NSFW, and it's the reader's first time? thank you if you do this!! 💗💗

yess of course I can girlyyy 💗 sorry for taking so long

——————————————————

— tell me when to stop - theodore nott

- pairing: theodore nott x fem. reader

- warnings: smut, reader’s first time.

- note: apologies for not posting in a long time, i might post another small one this week? depends on what i get done 💕 x

——————————————————

You lay down on the bed as the Slytherin boy explores every inch of your body, kissing and biting every part of your skin he could get to.

You have no idea how you ended up here, your brother’s best friend laying on top of you, tasting every inch of your body. Your brother tom and your parents were away for the weekend on a task, mattheo was over at his girlfriend’s house sleeping over there.

A few weeks ago, theo drunk at a party confessed his feeelings to you and you ended up making out. The next day he asked you to be his girlfriend and till now both your brothers were clueless as to what was going on.

Lying down on the coach, your bell rings and you open the door to theo standing in front of you. “mattheo’s not home” you said angrily as you had a small argument earlier about telling your brothers about you guys’ secret relationship. “i came for you” he spoke before attaching his hands to your face and connecting your lips.

He pushed you in the house and kicked the door closing it with his leg. His tongue slid into your mouth as his hands held your ass, carrying you up to your room. As you got there, he tugged at your shirt removing it trailing kisses down your collarbone. He then lowered your shorts as you helped him out of his own shirt.

Dressed up just in shorts, the boy then unclasped your bra wrapping his tongue around your tits sucking and licking on your nipples. You let out a moan tugging and pulling his hair. he then kissed his way down to your panties, lowering them creating space for his own pleasure. “theo.. wait” you spoke.

theodore then rose from his position, “yes cara mia?” “ive never done anything like this, at all” despite the two of you being in a relationship for a while, you never got the chance to do anything more than kissing. “like at all?” he asked raising an eyebrow. you shook your head in response.

“oh my fuck, you are that innocent” “fuck off” you smacked his shoulder. he smirked before speaking “im just kidding, ill teach you.” “what if it hurts” “it wont” “but what if it does?” “ill make sure it wont, just tell me when to stop” you nod as theo presses his thumb to your cunt. he then slowly begins rubbing it up and down, “youre so wet hm?” you roll your eyes to his comment.

he smirked before finally allowing himself into you, sliding his tongue down your slit, stopping at your cunt. he repeated this a few times as you struggled to keep your eyes in place, your stomach clenching at the feeling. your fingers wrapped around theodore’s hair, pulling and tugging as waves of pleasure take over your body “you okay, you want me to slow down?” he asked. “mm fine” you moan quietly.

“im going to use my fingers now but ill go easy okay?” he asked to which you nodded in response. slowly but surely, he pushed one finger inside you, then the other to which you responded by arching your back. theo’s mouth watered, he began curling his fingers inside of you earning a good fistful of moans and whimpers.

“teddy.. think im going to.. think im going to cum.” “do you?” “mhm… feels weird, but good..” “okay cara mia, do it and cum for me” he spoke placing a kiss on your clit as he pumped his fingers inside you. your breath and body both start to become shaky feeling his breath on your skin as your cunt clenches around his fingers. you scream as you come all over his fingers, him helping you ride your high, eventually slowing down.

he held up his hand showing you your own orgasm, licking his fingers. “you did so good bella ragazza, you taste amazing” he then spoke again “you sure you want to continue” you nod your head in approval as he slides his boxers down. he positions himself sat on the bed and takes his hard shaft in his hand pumping and preparing it for you. you were so turned on by what was going on you began to grind on his thighs for any sort of friction.

he then placed kisses down your neck, biting the skin which was most probably going to leave a mark later but did it matter? he then lifts you up lining your entrance with his cock “this is going to be slow, tell me when to stop or slow down” he then slowly lowers you filling you up almost immediately, your jaw immediately drops at the new feeling, concern filling the boy’s eyes.

“you okay bambina?” “hmm.. it just feels so good”. “yeah?” he earns a quick “mhm” escaping your mouth as he begins moving up and down. you throw your head back moaning loudly “oh theo..” “yeah say my name, you feel so good fuck cara mia”. he kisses you, sliding his tongue in fighting yours for dominance, he bites onto your lower lip causing you to moan into his mouth.

“i think im close again teddy..” “hm? me too” “come inside me” the words immediately spill out of your mouth. “ i wanna have the full experience” earning a smirk from theo, he places his fingers on your clit forcing some friction making you moan loudly as you come onto his cock. his thrusts become sloppy as he releases himself in you.

your eyes shut in pleasure “fuck nott” “you did so good for me” he said as he removed you off him making sure your cum doesnt spill on the floor. “now lets get you cleaned up and we can watch a movie”

[nvuy]

tumblr did not let me post this as a proper answer because tumblr hates me. BUT the council says: BEHOLD. an excerpt from my potential extended hijacked spin off boothill fic that that may or may not be potentially finished and posted so........... take it..................... anon you might not ever see this post but the brainworms are so huge and genius and i think you cooked......................

“Tha’s the hardest part… still bein’ here.”

There’s smoke in the air, and it curls around the windshield of your car. He’s called shotgun, as per usual, but that’s because you refuse to let him drive. Especially at night. He makes you feel sick when he takes corners faster than he slams the brakes at red lights.

The car hasn’t moved for a while. The drive had been rocky; there was no destination. Just away from the city for now. You’ve managed to find a secluded area deep in a stretch of trees, and there hasn’t been a car that’s passed on the dingy highway for ages now.

Smoking does nothing for him. He doesn’t have lungs to fill anymore, and the taste never appealed to him, but it helped take his mind off of everything.

Boothill felt the tug of the cigarette between his lips, and he let it go from his mouth before he watched as you shakily held it to your lips.

It’s disgusting. He snickers slightly when you cough and scrunch your eyes shut. You hand the cigarette back to him slowly.

You fan at your face, careful not to spill the half full bottle of wine balancing between your legs and the car seat. It’s one of the fancy brands Boothill snatched off the shelf on the way out of the bar from earlier after the manager had ordered him out. Something about not serving crooks. Whatever.

Your car reeks of smoke.

As much as the smell clogged your lungs, you hope it stays this way. 

“‘Specially since, y’know, it woulda been better if one o’ my dads lived, or my sisters, or even–” He takes another drag of the cigarette. “But, nah. Fate’s finicky like that. Leaves the worst ones standin’. That’s why we’re still around.”

And he’s right.

You take a sip from the bottle. You’re tipsy now. Definitely. You feel lighter than usual, and you’d worry about driving back somewhere to stay for the night.

You can’t drive in this state.

Boothill could drive back. You're too drunk to panic over how badly he swerves over the road.

And if he can’t, you could just sleep in the car for the night. It wouldn’t be the first time.

And, with him, maybe you would be okay.

Your vision is blurry, and there's an incessant burning beneath your eyelids. You quickly wipe your eyes. “Yeah.” God, you wish it was you who had disappeared. It would’ve saved your parents the heartache. You can’t even look at your reflection anymore. “Yeah, I get it.”

Boothill doesn’t say anything at first. He repeats your reply in his head like a mantra.

Instead, he blows smoke from his nose slowly in a long exhale, and then says, “I know you do.”

Furiously, you wipe your eyes again and tear your eyes away from the rearview mirror. You can’t will yourself to look. Though you feel nothing on your shoulder, you know the past sits behind you, and her hand rests on your skin like a weight.

Sometimes, it’s hard to even look at him, for when the metal of his body is reflective enough, you don’t see yourself, but her staring back at you.

He’s not sure what to say. Instead, he thinks it wise to potentially fry your car battery. He steals your phone charger hooked into the car and finds the slot that fits it best on his hip. Good enough. Hopefully it gives him enough juice to get through the next couple days.

“Oh, give it here.” You grab the wire from him. “You’re gonna break my damn charger.”

You peer at his ports curiously as he takes another drag of the silhouette, before you mumble something about the shape being a ‘USB-C’ and plug it into the right slot on his hip.

A small red light flashes to life above the port.

Boothill hums. “Thanks, sugar.” He doesn’t have to look at you, but the telltale scent of wine on your lips is enough for him to know. “You drunk?”

After a moment, you nod slowly. “Yeah.” Then, you twist in the chair to face him, bringing the bottle to your lips again. Your seatbelt is still on, even if the car has been parked for an hour. There’s a pang in your chest, and it tightens. “I miss her.”

She’s still staring at you in the mirror, but it’s not really her. Whatever this thing is, it’s not her. But it’s there, and it makes your heart race.

Boothill nods. “I miss my family, too.” He leans over and punches your thigh playfully. “But, I know your parents want ya to live for as long as you can. I know she would, too.”

You exhale. You’re beginning to feel sick now. Your stomach can’t take another blow from the wine, but you raise it to your lips anyway.

It burns when you swallow, like fire.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

He stops. Then, he turns away and raises his eyebrows in exasperation. “Just tryin’ to lift ya spirits.” Still, as exhausted as he feels, his rests a hand on your thigh. It’s comforting, the weight of metal, and it takes your mind off the fingers on your shoulders.

“I don’t think you’re the worst,” you mumble. You actually think you’re worse. Then, you shrug lightly. “I don’t want to lose you when you go.” You hear him exhale, somewhat to rid the smoke from his mouth, and also in the form of a sigh. “I know you won’t believe me, but I think I care about you.”

After you admit it, you pull the rim of the bottle to your lips again.

And then again.

And again.

Three sips later, you’re on the verge of collapsing, and Boothill snatches the bottle from your hand and stands it up by his feet on the car floor.

Your lips are stained a dark red, as is your tongue, and there’s a dark flush on your neck.

Sweat gathers over your skin, even if it’s freezing outside. The smoke is warm, and your legs are shaking.

“I just don’t want to lose you.”

Boothill turns his head and stares out the window. The stars are bright out here away from the city. It reminds him of home. None of that awful light pollution back there in that boring old planet that he loved to death.

If he could’ve, he would’ve taken you there.

That place doesn’t exist anymore.

He feels you would’ve loved his daughter. He feels she would’ve loved you a lot more.

“You ain’t gon’ lose me,” he whispers. He’s still not looking at you. He’s not sure if he’s lying, but he knows he wouldn't lie on purpose. Not to you. Not now.

He squeezes your thigh reassuringly. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Boothill hears the sound of your seatbelt unbuckling, and a shaky exhale follows.

Maybe you’re drunk out of your mind, and his breath stinks of tobacco, and it’s awful on your tongue, but you leap over the centre console of the car as best you can and hurriedly press your lips to his.

It hurts, and it makes him dizzy, and you feel like you’re floating, but he reciprocates, pressing further against your mouth. Your teeth clink, it’s messy, it’s awful, but it satisfies a burning in your stomach.

You snatch his hat and toss it in the back seat. His nose is cold, and it smushes against your cheekbone.

It lasts too long, and not long enough, for after a moment, he pulls his hands off your hips grabs your chin gently to push you off him.

You try to fuse your skin with his. Your stomach presses to his. Boothill’s eye softens and a grin grows on his lips when you sigh in defeat.

He laughs gently. “Easy, beautiful. I know you’re drunk as fudge.” He instead moves your head to his chest and pulls you gently into him. “Just sleep it off. You’re g’nna have the worst hangover in the mornin’.”

You hum and shift in his lap.

It falls silent for a moment.

“You’re so uncomfortable,” you murmur.

Boothill chuckles louder and blows a teasing cloud of smoke on the top of your head that you frantically wave away. He stares out the window again, and all the while, his free hand gently pets the top of your hair. He’s mindful that his joints can very well tangle easily.

“I bet,” he answers.

You murmur something he doesn't hear. Despite your complaints, you still fall asleep on his chest before you feel him lean down and his lips press to your hair.

[captn-trex]

let me take care of you

Rex x F!Reader

word count: 5.7k

description: you have been suffering from depression for a few months and have shut yourself off from the world. a few weeks after getting laid off from your job, you get an unexpected knock at the door.

warnings: i'm gonna say this is 16+ just to be safe, heavily implied sex, depiction of depression, suicidal ideation, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, mutual pining - let me know what I've missed !

a/n: okay so this is sooooo self-indulgent it's actually embarassing. I wrote the first bit of this when I was truly going through it and... yeah, it's just Rex taking care of the reader hehe, with a bit of suggestive stuff but not proper smut. if that's your kinda thing, I hope you enjoy! (also this is the first oneshot that I've actually posted so gimme constructive criticism pls !!)

Everything felt foggy.

For the past months, your life had felt like you were just going through the motions. Wake up, go to work, come home, struggle to sleep, and repeat. You didn't enjoy the things you used to anymore. It had been too long since you had taken a walk in the park, since you had sketched or written, and it hurt that you couldn't seem to even try and do them. Like there was an invisible force stopping you, and yet, there wasn't. It was just your own mind, lacking in whatever hormone would make you happy.

You couldn't find it in yourself to take care of yourself properly, and ever since being laid off from your job a few weeks ago, you had gone into the worst of it. You weren't eating properly, you couldn't sleep, sometimes staying up all night even though you would lay in your bed and just pray for it to be different. You hadn't seen your friends in months, though they would try and check in on you. You always told them you were busy, but you knew they knew what was going on. You had been like this before, though this time it was worse.

You shut yourself off from the world.

You hadn't been out of your apartment at all in days when you heard the knock. You made your way to your front door, and your breath hitched when you peered through the little hole and saw who was behind it.

Rex.

The clone stood in the hallway, his helmet at his hip, looking down the hall, and handsome as ever. There was no way you were letting him in while you were in this state. You hadn't brushed your hair in maker knows how long, you hadn't showered in… maybe a week? and the last time you had brushed your teeth was probably 2 days ago. Your personal hygiene was sorely lacking.

You watched the Captain through the door, your breath fogging up the glass, and jumped back when the knocking of the door reverberated around your small apartment.

What is he doing here?

You hadn't seen Rex since you lost your job, though he was among the few people who checked in with you regularly, trying to ask about how you were or convince you to come out of the house. Your stomach churned at the idea of people fussing about you, and now one of them was standing outside your door. A particular one of them that, in any given other state, you would be dying to see.

Your deep attraction and affection for Rex only made this situation more uncomfortable for you, the thought of answering the door making you feel physically sick.

You then heard your name called from behind the door in a deep, questioning voice, and your knees went weak.

“Are you in there?” He asked, followed by another knock.

You wanted to reply, to say anything, but you couldn't find your voice. What would I say? You elected to just go back to your bed, let him leave on his own, and pretend he was never here.

You scooted backwards but caught your hip on a table, sending a pile of your precious books hurtling to the floor. You held your breath, hoping Rex had not heard the noise, but it was no use.

Rex called your name again, and this time, it was gentler, “…Please let me in”

Your eyes watered as you walked up to the door, your finger hovering over the button that would cause it to slide open.

“I'm fine Rex, you can go” You tried to sound as resolute as you could, but the quiver in your voice was obvious.

“Cyare… let me in. I'm not leaving”

The nickname hit you hard, and you truly felt like clutching your chest as it pulled at the part of you that desired the clone on the other side of the door like no other.

You had met Rex years ago, at the job you had recently been let go from, working as a civilian medic on Coruscant.

The Captain could rarely be convinced by his brothers to take himself to the medbay, much more of the suffer in silence type. However, once you had begun working there, he had started making trips there for every little bump and scratch, and sometimes even when he was in perfect health, he would go claiming a cold or headache. He had always had a soft spot for you, and though he'd never admit it, he made it obvious. Everyone around him knew, everyone around you knew, but for whatever reason, you hadn't cottoned on at all.

He found you exceedingly beautiful, obviously intelligent, and just the most wonderful and bright spark of a person he'd ever met. Though, that was far from what you were feeling like at the moment.

You had also been enamoured by the Captain from the very start. The moment he walked into the medbay and made eye contact with you, you were done for. Whether it was his loyalty to his men, his commanding presence, or his wonderful smile that did it, you didn't know, but you were kriffed from the beginning.

“I can't let you in” You said, leaning your forehead into the door.

“Why not?” He said in a hushed tone that you could barely hear.

“I- I'm just not feeling well okay?” You choked out, vastly minimising the issue.

“I dont mind Cyare, just let me in. Please” He begged, but you just shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut.

You and Rex had grown into good friends quite naturally. In his needless visits to the med bay, he would often stay after hours and help you clean up, and you would fall into conversation about anything and everything. You shared many opinions about a variety of topics and would talk about your respective favourite things. Rex found that he learned a great deal about the wider galaxy from you, and he could hear you talk about art for hours upon end.

You were a fantastic artist, absolutely brilliant in any media, but Rex loved your sketches the most. You had brought him to your apartment once after work, when he had practically begged to see your work. He liked the simplicity of it, creating life with just a few stokes of a pencil. Your drawings held such character, such joy, such sorrow, and Rex thought that they were always so uniquely you. For that, he loved them.

“Rex I-” You didn't know what to say. You sank to your knees on the floor, letting your tears silently fall down your cheeks.

“Please…” He said one more time, and you finally broke.

You reached up and pressed the button, and the door zipped open to reveal your defeated posture to him. You dared not look up at him. You didn't want him to see you like this at all, but the thought of looking him in the eye when you knew how dishevelled, how weak you looked, you couldn't stomach it.

“Oh Cyare” He said softly and closed the door behind him, sinking to his knees in front of you. He tentatively placed a hand on your knee and began rubbing his thumb back and forth. “What's happened? You haven't been in the medbay for weeks”

“I was laid off” You replied quietly.

“What? Why would they do that?” He asked, genuinely confused. You were a talented medic. He could see no reason for it.

“Money is tight. We are at war after all” You chuckled a little bit, knowing that much was obvious to Rex.

“What are you upset about? I'm sure there's somewhere else that would take you, you're a great medic” He asked so innocently that you could almost laugh.

“It's not about that…” You sighed, running a hand over your face, still looking down.

“What is it about?” Rex said softly, shuffling forwards so his armoured knees touched your bare ones.

“I just… I can't do it anymore Rex” You whispered, the first time you had freely admitted it to anyone before.

Rex tensed up. He brought his other hand up and gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head to look at you properly. The look in your eyes already told him the answer to the question he was about to ask, “Can't do what?”

“It. Life. Anything. I just want to disappear” You said, choking on your tears and overwhelmed by the thoughts that weighed you down. Rex's amber irises burned into yours with such an intensity, but not for long, as his arms made their way around your body, and he pulled you into his lap.

You cried into his chest, with him stroking your hair and holding you close to him with the other arm, scared that you would somehow get your wish and disappear in his arms.

He was at a loss for words. He couldn't understand how someone he thought was so wonderful and incredible could be harbouring such hateful feelings about themself. He feared saying anything that would upset you, and the last thing he wished to do was deny how you were feeling by telling you that you were wrong, so he just held you in his arms, silently letting you know he was there for you, no matter what. The sound of your crying was making his heart break, but he stayed like that until it died down.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” He asked tentatively, drawing back and holding your jaw so he could see your face.

“I dont know… four or five months, maybe?” You replied, and it felt like he had been stabbed in the chest.

How had he not noticed anything was wrong? He felt like he had failed you, that your friendship was for nought if he couldn't even tell when you were upset. He didn't place any of the blame on you, but he had to ask…

“Why didn't you tell me?”

You sighed, “I didn't want to concern you with it. It's for me to deal with”

“What? It's not just for you to deal with, of course I'd want to know if you're not okay. I'm so sorry I didn't notice” He said, his tone so heavy with guilt.

“It's okay, it makes sense that you didn't”

Rex almost took offence to the comment, but the small smile on your lips didn't evade him, “Why does it make sense?”

“Uh, I guess I was always happy around you” You admit, “You- Uh we’re good friends, you know? I like spending time with you”

Despite the comment about being friends, Rex's heart soared, “I like spending time with you too Cyare”

“Why are you calling me that all of a sudden?” You asked. You knew what it meant, you'd spent enough time among the clones, and it was impossible to escape when you overheard their unabashed flirting on your few trips to 79s.

“Um” Rex gulped, not feeling like right now was the best time to admit that he was wildly in love with you, “I don't know, I care about you, you know? Like you said, we're good friends”

You nodded, seeming satisfied with the explanation, and Rex breathed out a shaky breath.

“I'm sorry you had to see me like this” You looked down, playing with your fingers as heat rose to your cheeks.

“It's fine, I really don't mind. Besides, you still look good to me” He said, and your eyes snapped back up to his instantly, your breath becoming short. Rex thinks I look good?

“Thanks Captain” You grinned shyly, your face feeling positively on fire at the compliment.

“It's no problem” He smiled, then he became more serious, “Have you eaten today?”

“Uh- no” You looked away again, feeling ashamed.

“Alright, let me fix you some food then” He readjusted his hold on you and picked you up, setting you down on your couch. Your head was spinning from the intimacy of feeling his breath fanning over your face.

“I don't really have any food here” You admitted sheepishly.

“Okay, how about this then” He crouched by the couch so that his eyes were level with yours, “Why don't you go and have a shower, do whatever you need to feel a bit better, and I'll go out and get us some food”

“Rex… I can't ask you to do that for me” You spoke hesitantly, but he shook his head.

“You're not asking, and in fact, neither am I” He said with a playful glint in his eye, “Go and freshen up, that's an order soldier”

You giggled at him and took the hand that he offered to help you up.

“Yes sir” You saluted him and marched off in the direction of the refresher, earning a laugh from the clone.

You stepped into the refresher and looked yourself in the eye for probably the first time in days. You did not look good. Your eyes held bags that looked so heavy that they could weigh down the skin they inhabited, your hair was a complete mess, and your skin was dull and lifeless.

You sighed, grabbed your hairbrush, and decided to start there. It took a few minutes, but soon, your hair was completely knot-free, and you stripped off and stepped into the shower. You took your time finding the perfect temperature, which ended up being almost scalding hot. You leaned your elbows against the wall, letting the water hit your back and relieving some of the tension you could feel there.

Now that you were actually in the shower, you didn't feel like leaving at all. Though, the idea of Rex being outside the door when you finished was enough for you to quickly wash yourself and your hair and hop out again. You brushed your teeth twice and moisturised your clean skin. Looking in the mirror, you looked a lot better than you did before you went in the shower, and you were eternally thankful for that. If you were going to see the person you had been in love with for years, you only wanted to look your best.

You stepped out of the refresher and headed for your bedroom with your dirty clothes in hand.

“Hey, are you-”

You jumped out of your skin when you saw Rex stood in the living area with a bag in hand, and he did too when he saw you with only a towel wrapped around you. Your eyes went wide, and you wrapped the towel tighter around your body on instinct, only fueling the less-than-pure thoughts that were spilling into Rex's brain. You looked so incredible, your hair dripping water over your body, which was seemingly glistening with its new cleanliness, and your towel left little to the imagination.

“Um yeah, you're out, cool, uh- I'll let you get dressed” He turned around and cursed silently to himself for being so awkward.

You just chuckled nervously, feeling utterly mortified, and made your way to your room as intended. You found a fresh oversized t-shirt and pair of soft shorts and slipped into them quickly, rejoining Rex in the other room.

He had taken off the top half of his armour, leaving just his blacks, the Republic insignia adorned proudly on his chest. The tightness of the top showed off his toned physique as if he wasn't even wearing anything, and you had to tear your eyes away from it.

“What did you get?” You asked quietly, sitting down next to him on the couch.

“Noodles, is that okay?” He asked, looking to you a little nervously.

You chucked at his demeanour, which was decidedly un-captain-like as he looked to you for approval, “It's perfect, thank you”

You both picked up the boxes that held your food and dug in, and your bodies turned to face each other as you rested against oppsite ends of the couch. It was good to have a proper meal, with actually nutritious foods. When you had eaten as of late, it had mostly been ration bars or random snacks you could find in your apartment. You hummed contentedly, and Rex smiled at you.

“Good?”

“Mhm” You smiled, swallowing a bite, “Thank you Rex”

“It’s alright” He said nonchalantly.

“I mean it, thank you for… taking care of me” You said, then looked down, “I'm finding that difficult at the moment, so it means a lot”

“Cyare” Rex moved towards you and placed a hand on your knee, “It's really no trouble, I just want to see you feeling better”

You looked up at him and gave a tight lipped smile, “Well, thank you anyway”

“No problem. You look a little more alive now, by the way” He teased.

“Hey! You're the one that said I looked good before, you cant take it back now” You challenged, and he smirked.

“I'm not taking it back. You just look even better now” He said, but his smirk dropped when you froze up at his comment.

“You dont have to say that just to make me feel better, you know” You said, looking down and taking your final mouthful of noodles.

“I'm not just saying it” He said quietly, and you looked up to see his light frown. You put down your food box as he continued to stare at you seriously.

“What is it?” You ask.

“It's nothing, don't worry about it” He said quickly and put his own food box down as he finished.

“Rex” You scooted closer to him so that your knees were almost touching, “What's the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter” He avoided your eyes as he spoke, and you used the technique that he employed earlier on, gently taking his chin between your thumb and finger and guiding his gaze towards you.

“What is it?” You asked again, and his eyebrows pinched together as his eyes flicked between the two of yours.

“You're so beautiful Cyare” He said, tentatively placing his hand on your lower thigh.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the gentle touch, and you searched his eyes for any dishonesty but only found them to be as earnest as usual.

“I- I should've been telling you every day since I met you” He said, his voice breaking just a little as he spoke so softly, “I should’ve been telling you how much you mean to me, how much I care for you, how important you are” He stroked his thumb back and forth on your thigh, sending tingles up your spine.

“Rex” You breathed out in a whisper, your hand sliding around to cup his sharp jaw. He leaned into your touch, and you felt as if you could melt at the sight.

“Say something” He urged, his eyes pleading for a conformation that you felt the same way.

“I-” You didn't know what to say. You felt the same, but the words got caught in your throat. It felt wrong to truly admit to your affection for him after bottling it up for so long.

“Rex, I've always cared for you, far more than a medic should care for their patient” You admitted, and his eyes lit up.

“You have?” He asked, and you nodded in reply.

“And for the record, I think you're beautiful too” You let a small grin creep its way onto your face.

“That’s good to know” Rex smirked, bringing his other hand to your cheek.

He looked deeply into your eyes, the eyes that he always found so fascinating, and he leaned his forehead against yours before tilting his head towards your lips. You shivered with anticipation.

“Is this okay? I don't want to take advantage of you if you-”

“Just kiss me Rex” You whispered against his lips, your eyes fluttering shut. He didn't delay after that. With your permission, he couldn't say no.

His lips met yours tentatively, as if testing the waters, but as soon as he felt you kiss him back, he pulled you in more urgently. His lips moved against yours, melding together as if it was how they were made to be. You felt your need for closeness growing, and you pulled him towards you as you deepened the kiss. Rex slid his hand up your thigh, resting it on your hip and tracing small circles with his thumb as his other hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as he devoured your lips.

Rex pulled back, his teeth lingering on your bottom lip for a moment, and you both caught your breath.

“I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that” You said, your breath still short.

Rex grinned widely, “Yeah? I can guarantee it's probably not as long as I have”

“Probably not” You chuckled, “Unless you somehow wanted to before you even looked at me for the first time”

Rex raised his eyebrows, “You've wanted to kiss me the whole time we've known each other?” He asked, and you nodded your head shyly. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“I dont know, I guess I just figured you wouldn't feel the same” You shrug.

Rex just shook his head with a smile and pulled you onto his lap “Oh, how wrong you were”

“Is that right?” You smirked, “I'd love to hear all about just how wrong I was”

Rex smirked back at you, and placed a kiss to your cheek, “I've wanted to kiss those pretty lips of yours ever since I laid eyes on you” He confessed, and your breath hitched as he continued to place featherlight kisses along your jaw. “I thought you were the most beautiful person I'd ever seen” He kissed down your neck slowly, gently nipping at you with his teeth at the point where your neck meets your shoulder, which earned a small whine from you, and you could feel him smirk.

“I've never felt the way I feel about you, about anyone else” He murmured against your skin, burying his nose in your neck and inhaling your scent.

His words were driving you crazy. They were all you had ever wanted to hear from him, and here he was, speaking them aloud as he kissed your skin so gently, as if you would break if he pressed any harder.

“Rex” You whispered, and he looked up at you, waiting for you to continue.

“What is it, Mesh'la?” He whispered back, his lips ghosting yours. You shuddered in his arms, your eyes fluttering closed, and he watched your every move with anticipation.

“Rex, I-” You leaned your forehead against his, needing an anchor before you spoke your next words, “I need you”

Rex's heart skipped a beat. Possibly a few beats. “What do you mean, Cyare?”

“Please, take me to the bedroom” You asked, begged, and Rex took action immediately.

He held you to him as he stood up, and you wrapped your legs around him tightly. He made his way to your bed quickly and gently laid you onto your back, crawling over you so he was holding himself above your body.

“You're sure about this, Cyare? If it's just a lapse in judgement because you're not in your right mind, I understand, no hard feelings” Rex stroked your cheek with his knuckles, looking into your eyes intently.

“Rex, please. My judgement is just fine. I want you. I've always wanted you” You said, the neediness so obvious in your tone. Rex's expression then settled somewhere between amusement and adoration.

“You want me?” He smirked, his lips hovering just above yours.

“Yes” You spoke breathlessly.

“Say it again” He commanded in a whisper, his amber eyes burning into your very soul.

“I want you, Rex”

He breathed out a shaky breath and brought his lips to yours, speaking between chaste kisses, “You have me, all of me. You always have. I've always been yours”

It was almost too much to hear. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you thought you'd made it all up.

“I've always been yours Rex” You whispered against his lips, and his breath stuttered.

“You're mine?” He asked in a murmur. The flame of desire burning in his eyes was clear.

“Only yours”

He pressed his lips to yours with a newfound desperation, his hand trailing down your body and holding your hips in place as he slipped his leg between yours. You grasped at his body, your hands finding themselves underneath the top of his blacks, and he stopped kissing you to pull it off. You absolutely marvelled at the sight.

In all your time knowing Rex, mending up his various wounds, you had never had the honour of glimpsing at his form without a shirt on. You traced along a scar at the centre of his chest, “How did you get this?”

“I was shot” He shrugged with a grin.

“No big deal for a big important Captain like you, I suppose” You teased and matched his grin as he rolled his eyes.

“Shut up” He mumbled against your skin as he buried his head in your neck, leaving soft kisses and less soft bites. You struggled to keep small moans from escaping your lips at his touch, and Rex noticed you holding back. He wound his way up to your lips, pressing a short kiss to them before he spoke.

“Don't hold out on me cyar'ika, I want to hear you”

You bit your lip and nodded at him, then kissed a trail across his strong jaw, earning a soft groan. As your kisses made their way down his neck, and you brought your hands to trail down his body, he groaned more deeply. The sound was driving you insane. Before you could breach the top of his blacks, Rex gathered your wrists in his hand and held them above your head, your eyes blown wide with desire and longing, your breath ragged.

Rex just looked at you for a moment, committing the intoxicating sight to his memory. His other hand found your face as he shifted the leg that was between yours, earning a whimper, “Don't worry about that, just let me take care of you”

You shuddered at his words, your body tense with anticipation for what was to come.

He looked so perfect, angelic even.

Watching Rex sleep was never a luxury you imagined yourself getting the opportunity to indulge in, but with it right in front of you, you weren't going to let it pass you by.

You had slept for a little while, wrapped up in Rex's limbs, and held closely to his body. You had been completely at peace, every struggle and awful thought that usually plagued you was pushed to the back of your mind and there was only him, his presence enveloping you; his warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin against yours, his breath against your cheek and his chest rising and falling gently. Now, as you moved away from him and watched the cold light of morning creep across his features, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight.

You slipped out of his arms, a soft sigh escaping him in the process. Your heart clenched at the sound, only feeling your adoration for him growing once again.

You reluctantly tore your gaze away from him and went over to your desk, opening the left draw as quietly as you could. You took out your flimsi sketchbook and a pencil and made your way over to the chair that was against the large window overlooking the city. However, that wasn't the focus of your sketching today, not when there was a sight far more beautiful laying in your bed.

You opened up your small sketchbook and looked at the last thing you had drawn. It was a scene from the park. A couple sat on a bench at the edge of the man-made pond and smiling adoringly at each other. You smiled and pushed down the guilt at the realisation that you had drawn this over four months ago.

When you looked up to Rex again, your heart skipped a beat. The sun had risen a little higher in the sky and cast a golden light across the lower half of his face and chest. You took up your pencil and began sketching the view before anything could disturb it.

The sheets were pooled at his waist, showing off his toned physique in all its glory, especially as he slept with one hand tucked under his head. His features were relaxed, more relaxed than you had ever seen. His face often had a sternness about it that was undeniably militaristic, but that was nowhere to be found as he slept peacefully.

You had the outline and were now just adding the details. The small marks on his skin, some that you had fixed up yourself, and the large blaster burn in the centre of his chest. As you were adding some of the shadows to his face, you heard a small grumble, and your head shot up to see Rex opening his eyes, stretching his arms out.

“Don’t move” You spoke gently, and he looked to you, noticing your sketchbook in your hand as you sat curled up in your chair.

He smiled, a warmth spreading across his chest as he settled back into his previous position, “Like this?”

“Mhm” You hummed in reply, taking in the way the shadows on his face changed now that he was awake. “Relax” You laughed as you saw a small crease emerge in his brow.

He chuckled a little and relaxed with a contented sigh.

“Almost done” You said quietly, as if to not disturb your own work.

You quickly added the remaining shading, adding some small details of the bed and the room, wanting to capture the moment perfectly, so that should your mind ever forget it, which you doubted, it would be forever recorded. That was what you loved about using flimi over a datapad. The physicality felt more personal and permanent.

“All finished” You smiled as you closed your sketchbook and went to place it back in your desk.

“Hey! Aren't you going to show me?” Rex asked, and you looked back to him to see the crease in brow had returned.

“It's not very good, it's just a sketch”

“Cyare, I love your sketches. Please, show me” He spoke gently, an edge of seriousness to deny your self-deprecating words.

“Okay” You conceded, opening the sketchbook back up and sitting down on the bed to show him. Rex then grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him, making you fall back into his chest as he laid down again. A delighted laugh escaped your lips at the sudden contact, and you looked up to Rex's face to see an equally elated expression.

He took the sketchbook from your hand and looked over the drawing of himself, his smile widening with each second.

“It's amazing” He said softly, meeting your eyes again.

“That's because it's of you” You smiled and brushed your nose against his, earning a small chuckle.

“No, it's… You make me look so…” He looked over the drawing and tried to find the right word to describe what he meant, “I'm not sure. It looks exactly like me, but… There's something else to it”

“Well, all the best things are made with love” You said before you could even really process what you were saying.

Rex’s eyes went wide as they snapped back to yours, “Love?” He questioned.

You shrank backwards, wanting the bed to collapse in on itself and swallow you whole, but Rex’s arm tightened around your waist, pulling you against him. You let the word hang in the air for a moment before clearing your throat and swallowing hard.

“Uh… yeah” You said awkwardly, looking away.

Rex said your name in a soft tone, pulling your focus back to him. He rested his forehead against yours, his amber eyes burning into yours, “You love me?”

“I do” You whispered, gnawing your bottom lip at the vulnerability of the admission.

Rex met your lips in a sweet kiss, slow and deliberate, and pulled away a few seconds later. He caressed your cheek with his knuckles before he settled his palm on the back of your neck. “I love you too” He confessed, and your heart leapt to your throat.

“You do?” You whispered.

“I do. I always have. It's like I said, I've always been yours” He confirmed, repeating the words he had said last night. You brought your forehead to his again and closed your eyes, taking in the sweetness of the moment.

“And I yours”

Nothing was fixed. You weren't back to being happy and full of life like you once were, but Rex had reminded you why life was worth living. You were reminded of all the things that made it worthwhile, all of the things you loved to do, the things that brought joy and colour into your life. If you could just take it one step at a time, one day after the other, you would get through this feeling, and best of all, Rex would be there to support you when you needed him.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Postpartum

Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (NSFW), sex, oral sex, hella eating out, fingering, etc., mentions of anatomy/body parts, some explicit language, post-pregnancy times (please let me know if I've left anything out!) Word Count: 2.0k

Summary: You're six weeks postpartum, and your doctor has cleared you for sex, but you're worried that it might not be the same anymore. Amelia assuages all of your worries. 😉

Request Info: This was requested by an anonymous user, but the request itself accidentally got deleted! The user also requested that the reader be an ortho surgeon and a third twisted sister. Whoever you are, I hope you find this, and I'm so sorry to have lost your original request!

“You’re good to go,” your OBGYN declared, finishing up your 6-weeks postpartum checkup.

You raised your eyebrows at her. “As in, good to go?”

She laughed. “Good to go, as in cleared to resume any and all sexual activity as you feel ready for it.”

You nodded and repeated it to yourself. “Good to go…”

But as you left Grey-Sloan, making a quick stop at the ortho unit to say hello to the nurses and the other attendings, you couldn’t help but wonder if you really were good to go. Sure, you missed sex with Amelia. You missed her body, missed connecting with her in that way, but you were also so self-conscious. You hadn’t had any major tears or anything, but you had shoved a human head out of your vagina less than two months ago. It was bound to be different down there. It felt different. What if sex didn’t feel good anymore? What if it never did? Or, even worse, what if it looked or felt different for Amelia, and she didn’t like sleeping with you anymore?

You decided to text Meredith and Cristina about it, as you so often did about any and everything.

Y/N: You guys I’ve been cleared for sex

M: Yay!

C: Good for you bitch

Y/N: I’m kinda scared tho…

M: Aw, why?

Y/N: Does it hurt after? Or like idk was Derek weirded out?

C: It feels like I could have been left out of this conversation

M: Shut up Cristina we’re being supportive! And no Y/N it didn’t hurt. You just have to take it slow and do what feels good at the time. And stop if it doesn’t feel good.

C: You don’t have a dick to deal with so you should be okay

M: CRISTINA

Y/N: I mean tbh we have several

M: Ew she’s my sister I didn’t need to know that…

C: I need to know more…

You shook your head and smiled. You decided that you might as well try, if Amelia was up for it. And there was no question that Amelia was up for it. She’d powered through like a champ, but before this, the longest you’d gone without having sex was two weeks and that was only because you’d been brought in as a specialist on a case at another hospital.

When you walked into the apartment, everything was quiet–a rarity at your house these days. You crept through the rooms, looking for Amelia and Pippa, and finally found them in the nursery. Amelia held Pippa to her chest, bouncing her softly as she slept, little chubby cheeks pressing out like she was blowing bubbles.

You placed a hand on Amelia’s back and kissed her on the cheek. You nodded toward Pippa, eyebrows scrunched.

“I just can’t bring myself to put her down,” Amelia whispered. “How was your appointment?”

“Good.”

Amelia stared pointedly at you. “Good good?”

You nodded, smirking.

If Pippa had not been tiny and fragile, Amelia would have tossed her into the crib like a football.

She placed the baby gently on her back in the crib, then crashed into you with the force of a tidal wave–or six weeks of no sex.

She pushed you into the hallway wall, shutting Pippa’s door behind her, and pressed into you, her mouth and hands desperate. She ran her tongue up and down your neck and back to your mouth and yanked your shirt over your head. God, you’d missed this. You’d missed her. Even though she’d been right here next to you the whole time. She groaned as she pushed herself into you, and you smiled into her kiss.

At this rate, Amelia would be finished before you even had a chance to make it to the bed.

“No, no!” she whined as you pulled away, her blue eyes pleading desperately with you.

“Come to bed, Amy,” you teased, taking her by the hand and leading her to the bedroom.

You gently removed her clothes and pushed her onto the bed. “You first,” you said.

She grabbed at your face hungrily as you leaned over her, kissing you with all the fervor of someone who’s love has been lost at sea for several years. She gasped and arched her back as your hand grazed over her clit.

You couldn’t help but smile at how needy she was, her hips bucking into your hand as you held it still, cupping her heat.

“Y/N, don’t fucking tease me,” she scolded, her voice stuttering. “It’s been way too long for that.”

“Oh, you don’t like that?” you said, smug. It was not often that Amelia was this powerless in bed. Usually it was the other way around, so you were enjoying this moment.

She grabbed your face, rough, and then soft as she ran her hand through your hair. “Just finish me already so I can get inside you.” She pulled your face closer, her breath hot in your ear as she whispered. “I’ve missed the taste of you.”

You’d never switched gears faster. No more power trips, just getting Amelia off as quickly as possible.

You kissed and licked your way down her body, intoxicated by the way she pushed into you and pulled you closer. By the time you reached her center, she was panting and glistening and you knew it'd only be a matter of minutes before she was absolute putty.

You pressed soft kisses into her inner thighs, then closer and closer until she was nearly bursting with the want of you, so that when you finally, finally, wrapped your mouth around her clit, she nearly lost her mind. You held her hips in place as she moaned, licking your way through her, around her, inside of her until she was shaking in your arms, hips rolling to meet your tongue. And for the final touch, you slipped two of your fingers inside of her, curling down and around, just how you knew she liked it. Her hands were gripping your hair so hard you thought might pull it out. “Y/N!” she gasped, her breath coming out in short, sharp moans as she came on your fingers. You smiled as you buried your face in her, guiding her through her high and back down again.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, her chest still heaving.

“Good?” you asked, already knowing the answer, as you wiped your mouth.

She nodded, still struggling to catch her breath. “Give me a second.”

You lay down next to her, feeling wildly pleased with yourself, especially when Amelia rolled over on top of you and pressed her mouth into yours, moaning as she tasted herself on your lips.

But as she worked her way down your body, anxiety shot through you.

You grabbed her hand. “Amy, wait…”

She looked up at you, concerned.

“You don’t have to,” you said, avoiding her eyes.

“I know I don’t,” she replied, still looking at you curiously. “I want to. I’ve wanted to for months.”

“I think…” you stuttered. “I think I’d really rather you didn’t.”

Amelia’s eyebrows furrowed. “Hey,” she said, laying down next to you and propping herself up on her elbow so she could see your face. “What’s going on?”

“I’m just not ready.”

“That’s fine, but you seemed super ready about two minutes ago.”

You didn’t respond, fiddling with an edge of your comforter.

“Y/N,” she said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head please.”

She took your hand and you played with her fingers for a moment before answering.

“I’m scared you won't like it.”

Amelia looked genuinely shocked. “You’re what now?”

“I got messed up down there,” you mumbled. “What if it’s not like normal for you?”

“Oh, babe,” she said, caressing your face. “You’re not messed up. You could never be messed up. You’re you and I love you. I love all of you.”

You stayed quiet.

“Honey,” she continued, more emphatic now. “Your body made a whole human. A human that is sleeping in the bedroom down the hallway. A beautiful, precious human that I love with all my heart and hope with all my heart stays asleep for a while so that I can get in there. She had her time. It's my fucking turn."

You couldn’t help but giggle a bit.

“Listen,” she ranted, excited that your mood was brightening and trying to make you laugh more. “I’m like the Lewis and Clark of vaginas, okay? The wilderness must be explored. I gotta get in there and get the lay of the land. And it might be new, right?”

You nodded, grinning and blushing.

“But new doesn’t mean bad. Lots of times new means better. So just… let me do my exploring, okay?”

“Okay,” you acquiesced.

Amelia was gentler with this attempt, slow and steady and worshipful as she moved down your body, taking her time especially at the place where your uterus still bulged, where new stretch marks had drawn their way across your abdomen. And when she got to your center, she was gentle there, too, mindful of your anxiety, mindful that it might take your body more time than usual to warm up.

She was loving and slow and obsessive, sighing with pleasure as she placed kisses along the inside of your thighs, on your clit, all over you. Amelia’s careful touch had washed away most of your anxiety, leaving behind your flushed face, the shuddering of your body each time her skin met yours.

And when finally, finally, she had you wet and whimpering, she dove in like a woman starved.

“Amy,” you breathed, lightly holding her head in your hands as you threw your own head back, your hips rising to meet her. You could feel her smile against you.

“You want more?” she asked, and you knew she meant, Do you want fingers or a strap or a toy or anything like that?

You shook your head. “No, just–” Your breath caught in your throat, replaced by a moan as the knot in your lower abdomen tightened.  “Just keep going.”

If there was one thing about Amelia, it was that she could eat you out forever. You’d been afraid that would change, but clearly your fears had been unfounded. She was insatiable.

“Amy–” you exclaimed, arching your back as your body approached the edge. You couldn’t even get the words out, just “Amy” over and over.

She reached up to grasp one of your hands in hers as you fell apart around her, Amelia lapping up every last bit of you.

You breathed heavily, watching as Amelia emerged from between your thighs, grinning like an idiot, her face an absolute mess.

You laughed as she wiped her face. “I take it your expedition went well?”

“God!” she exclaimed, flopping down beside you. “I missed you.”

“We literally have not been apart for weeks.”

“Okay, well, then I missed your vagina.”

You giggled, rolling over a bit to kiss her on the cheek. “You’re a dork.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” Amelia retorted, pulling you in for another heated kiss.

You were interrupted then by a loud, crinkly wail through the baby monitor.

Amelia groaned, but you could see a smile creeping in. She stood and stretched. “I’ll go get her.”

“Amelia!” you hissed, throwing a pillow at her. “You can't bring her in here! We’re naked, and it smells like sex!”

“She’s six weeks old! She won’t remember!” Amelia nodded at you. “Go take a shower. Relax. Then we can switch. It's almost time to feed her anyway.”

You lay in bed a moment longer, waiting to hear Amelia on the baby monitor.

“Hello!” she cooed, her voice crackling through the speaker as Pippa continued to cry. “Hi, pretty girl! Oh, I know. I know. You want Mama? Let’s go see her. Oh, you love your mama, don’t you? Mommy does, too.”

You smiled, your heart full as you listened.

“We loooooove Mama, don’t we? Yes, we do. We love her so much.”

[idyllic-affections]

achilles heel ii.

summary. love is a sin. the regrator is a sinner.

trigger & content warnings. threats of physical violence, nightmares.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. found family (moreso than the first post), fluff, slight angst. pantalone & young teen!reader, slight arlecchino & young teen!reader. 2.6k words. they/them pronouns used for [name]. this fic is divided into six drabble-like sections. this fic is the second part of achilles heel; please read the first post before reading this one.

author's thoughts. teehee pantalone....... he is never dad-ified enough i swear. he has so much dad potential. look at him. silly rich guy (<- he is a criminal and is NOT silly).

i. a slip of the tongue ♡

       Their enrollment into the House of Hearth came with two specific conditions:

       One, Arlecchino would not have ultimate authority over them. They didn't disrespect her regardless, but Pantalone was insistent that her authority should not exceed his over them. He was their caretaker, after all. They were a special case in the Knave's orphanage—an orphan but not quite an orphan.

       Two, that they returned to his residence on weekends, which wasn't something they or Arlecchino has any qualms with. She didn't exactly get along with the Ninth, but oddly, she didn't argue either of his conditions.

       (They felt immeasurably guilty, however, that they had a home to return to. That was a privilege unique to them. The orphans of the House of Hearth did not have such a luxury; hell, those children could not even dream of a home outside of the orphanage.)

       This was one such weekend. Upon returning home, they let themselves into Pantalone's office—of course, not before ensuring he was not occupied with another Harbinger or other business partners of his. Had he been, they would have only entered once he was done.

       "I'm back, Father."

       ...

       Immediate terror stuck their chest. Admittedly, their reaction once they processed what had just come out of their mouth was a bit dramatic, but still! Had Arlecchino's children somehow rubbed off on them? All of her children tended to call her 'Father', but they only ever called her by her name...

       The Regrator paused what he was doing, wordlessly setting his pen down.

       "...Sorry, dear, could you repeat that? I didn't quite hear you."

       "Um. I said I'm back."

       "After that."

       "..."

       "[Name]."

       "I didn't say anything after, I swear." They were completely flustered now, hand shyly fidgeting with the strands of hair securely held back by what had once been Arlecchino's hair clip while their gaze settled anywhere that wasn't on the Harbinger. "I didn't..."

       "You are a terrible liar."

       "I'm— I'm not."

       He smiled at that, gingerly shedding his gloves and rings.

       He thought it was a bit cruel of him to create any kind of distance between himself and the little thief he brought into his home, especially in what was such an important and vulnerable moment.

       It was then that he beckoned them closer. They obliged, albeit hesitantly. His hands gently smoothed down some wild strands of their hair—presumably caused by whatever the Knave had put them through that day. His tenderness seemed to calm them down a little bit.

       "Do you see me as a father figure, [Name]?"

       They pouted. "I don't know. Maybe. It just came out. I didn't think about it. Sorry."

       If Pantalone was any more morally correct, he might worry about who they were looking up to, but...

       Their immorality was inevitable, really, so he tried not to concern himself with it too much. It was the one consequence associated with taking them in. It was one that simply couldn't be avoided.

       Pantalone had come to terms with that fact some time ago.

       "Don't apologize. I don't mind if that is the case."

       "...Okay."

       He held himself together with skillful grace that was only to be expected of someone like him, but the second they left his office, he slammed his head on his desk, resisting the compelling urge to just sob.

       (...He was probably the reason they had become a tad dramatic.)

       Oh.

       That day, the Ninth learned two things:

       One, [Name] had adopted a more formal method of speech, which was good. It would be useful in the future. His lower priority business partners, the general nobility of Snezhnaya and other nations... those people would all expect his child to take on a more refined demeanor. It was good that they already were.

       Two, which was objectively more important in his mind (because really, he did not care for the opinions of people who had never struggled a single day in their lives), he had unexpectedly become an actual father. Not just a caretaker, but a father.

       Oh, fuck.

ii. third time's a charm ♡

       "Can I keep him?"

       "Absolutely not."

       "Please? Come on. He won't cause any trouble!"

       Pantalone pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, sighing deeply. How could he have possibly gotten himself into this situation a second time? Perhaps he really was spoiling them just a bit too much. "[Name]. You cannot continue bringing wild animals into our home."

       They pouted, holding up the little feline in their arms. It may have been small and harmless at the moment, but a snow leopard such as the one they snatched up from the streets would surely grow impossibly bigger, provided enough time and proper nutrition. "Father..."

       He shot them an annoyed look. They could only smile innocently.

       "Don't 'Father' me, [Name]."

       "I've taken good care of Winter thus far!" Said fox chirped upon hearing her name. "Look, see—she's perfectly healthy. I can handle another pet!"

       "You named her Winter?"

       They shrugged. "It's always winter in Snezhnaya, so..."

       He couldn't help but chuckle fondly, teasing, "Clever."

       "I doubt you would have came up with a better name, Father," they huffed playfully. "Anyways, come on! Look, how can you say no to a little face like this?"

       Neither of the two said anything for a moment. [Name] held up the little squirming cat with one hand, supporting its hind legs with the other.

       It was clear to Pantalone that they would not budge.

       A deep sigh left his lips.

       They knew they had won.

       Once again, Pantalone welcomed another unexpected guest into his household.

       He could unflinchingly deny Il Dottore further funding for his experiments. He could ruthlessly send out the agents employed under his command to collect the debts of those foolish enough to leave them unpaid without so much as a second thought.

       Somehow, he could not deny his child another exotic animal.

       Oh well. At least the feline would eventually grow into a suitable bodyguard for [Name], he supposed.

iii. ultimatum ♡

       Whenever Pantalone had free time during the work week—which... wasn't very often—he had grown into a habit of visiting the House of Hearth.

       His darling child was there. How could he be expected to stay away?

       (The Knave grit her teeth, clenched her jaw, and ultimately bit her tongue when he kept showing his face in her territory again and again. As much as she didn't like the Ninth... she would have to tolerate it, she supposed. He was too preoccupied with [Name] to bother her the majority of the time, anyway.)

       The children were all polite and respectful with him whenever he came around, often pointing him in the direction of their sibling-in-arms. They were typically lingering around the younger children, engaging with them and entertaining them in a way that a doting older sibling might, but for some reason...

       They weren't there that day.

       "One of the matrons wanted to talk to [Name], sir. I don't know why," one of the younger children his child typically surrounded themselves with had told him.

       He was surprised to find that, rather than wanting to speak to [Name], one of Arlecchino's employees seemed to have forgotten just whose child it was she was speaking to.

       "We are raising soldiers," a woman harshly spat, "not regular children. It would be in your best interests, Mx. [Name], to quit teaching them to be soft."

       They blinked.

       "...Um. They're five."

       "Are you even listening?!"

       "Listen," they began, shifting their weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "They're barely five, okay? They'll learn. They can't even wield a sword properly yet. Half of them can't read mid-level literature yet. For now, I think they deserve attention from someone they can trust who won't hurt them. I mean... if I were really doing something wrong, Arle surely would have told me—"

       "You rich little brat."

       That stung, admittedly. With nervous fingers, they plucked at the threads of their sleeve.

       "By the Tsaritsa, if the Ninth himself weren't so enamored with you, I would have your head mounted on the wall for the disrespect you have shown not only us but our Lord."

       She raised a hand, and they flinched back, and then—

       Nothing came.

       "Fa— Father... hi."

       The Regrator's grip on her wrist was crushing, rage barely concealed behind a tight-lipped smile.

       "Hello, dear." Pantalone's eyes were kind when they were on his child, but glazed over with an unsettling iciness upon facing the woman. He leaned down, head tilting slightly as he observed the tense matron who so boldly dared to raise a hand to his child. "Now, I'm certain this was a one-time incident, unless of course you would be interested in taking a... leave of absence to see the Doctor, hm?" His grip tightened slightly in a wordless threat, a promise of a fate more vile than death itself. "A permanent leave of absence, that is."

       Tension weighed heavily in the air.

       Of course, the matron relented. She would have been foolish to not when the fate promised to her would be undoubtedly worse than death.

       "...No, of course not, sir. It won't happen again."

       He released her trembling wrist, adjusting his rings nonchalantly.

       "Good. Go on, then. Leave us."

       "Yes, Lord Ninth."

       She turned on her heel, bowing her head respectfully to both the Regrator and his child before rounding the corner of the hall. Just like that, she was gone.

       Instantly, all his attention shifted to [Name].

       "Are you alright?" he murmured softly, only for their ears to hear. He kneeled down to their level and gingerly tilted their chin upwards to check if Arlecchino's matron left any wounds behind.

       "Yeah, I'm— I'm fine..."

       He was quiet for a moment, thumb gently rubbing along their cheekbone and wiping away the beginnings of tears. The Knave would not like to see them in such a state. The Ninth didn't particularly care for her opinion, but he knew very well that his child did, to a certain degree.

       "...Don't cry, dear. Do not allow yourself to be pushed around. You are worth infinitely more than any agent among our ranks. Do you understand?"

       "Mm-hm. I'm just..." They gnawed on the corner of their lip. "I guess I'm used to it."

       He was quiet for a moment.

       "That will change," he concluded. "You will never be treated so poorly ever again."

iv. bonding ♡

       "Were you never given the opportunity to bake?"

       They hummed thoughtfully, lips pulled into a calm and content smile as they observed their father knead the bread dough they took part in making.

       Indeed, a man as prestigious as him could just have one of his employees do this... but what kind of parent would he be if he refused to bond with his child alone? No genuine bonding would take place if he was not the one engaging with them.

       ...

       Baking also happened to a special place in his heart as a child of poverty, so he didn't mind doing it.

       "Not really. I couldn't afford to. It was too expensive," they mused, trailing off briefly. Pantalone was quiet—patient. He didn't interrupt them or urge them to speak. He simply waited for them to go on. "I didn't get paid well when I was taking thievery commissions. I was small and weak, so it was easy for those older people who commissioned my work to scam me out of what I was owed."

       The Regrator made a mental note to investigate those people further.

       For now, though, his focus was on them.

       "I understand," he reassured. "Baking is indeed an expensive hobby. There was a time where even I could not afford it."

       "I really wouldn't have believed you if you hadn't told me," they said, stealing and snacking on some of the fruits spread across the counter. The Harbinger chuckled fondly, pinching their cheek.

       "Stop that. If you keep that up, we won't have anything to put in the bread. Now, for the next step..."

v. nightmare ♡

       It was the middle of the night when they jolted awake, skin dampened with a cold sweat and fingers relentlessly shaking.

       The House of Hearth's hardwood floor was cold against their bare feet, but it really didn't bother them. It wasn't anything they weren't used to, anything` they hadn't experienced in their past. It was with quiet and purposeful steps that they snuck out of the room they shared with a handful of the younger kids that bonded closely with them.

       Their years of thievery still benefitted them, it seemed, as they effortlessly snuck out without awakening anyone else.

       "What are you doing up at such an awful hour?"

       They practically leapt out of their skin, heart hammering in their chest at Arlecchino's sudden appearance.

       "I, uh—" they began, taking deep breaths in the hopes of calming themselves down. "Um, sorry. You frightened me."

       "Oh? My apologies, then, [Name]."

       Whether or not her apology was sincere was debatable. She seemed to derive very slight amusement from their fright, but gave them a firm pat on the head. It was comforting in its own way.

       "...I had a nightmare," they reluctantly admitted, "so I can't really sleep. Sorry."

       "It isn't uncommon for these things to happen," she replied. "Your apology is unwarranted. You aren't the first and I doubt you will be the last to be unable to sleep."

       "Arle, um... I know I'm not supposed to leave again until tomorrow, but..."

       Arlecchino's eyes were trained precisely on them, and perhaps she might have looked irritated, but in reality, she could not find it within her to be frustrated. They were strong and smart and excelled in the things that they needed to excel in. There was no reason for her to be frustrated with them for something so simple. It was normal for children to seek out their parent following a distressing experience.

       "I will take you back to the Regrator's residence, then. Consider it a reward for your high performance this week."

       "Ah, really? Thank you, Arle."

       "Go get your things. Meet me outside."

vi. found family ♡

       "You're home early, [Name]."

       When they entered Pantalone's office (he lamented the fact that he was still working at such a late hour, but such was unfortunately his obligation as a Harbinger), he was pleasantly surprised, quietly setting down his pen and offering them his full attention.

       "I know." They nodded. "Arle said I performed well this week, so she brought me home a day early. I guess she probably had something to do elsewhere anyway, since she offered."

       "I see."

       A silence settled for a moment.

       The Ninth instantly knew something was wrong when their fingers reached up to their sleeve, absently picking and pulling at the threads. He'd noticed that habit of theirs back when he first put them in the public eye.

       "If there is something troubling you, dear, you are more than welcome to tell me."

       "It's stupid," they murmured, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Maybe they should have just stayed back at the House of Hearth.

       "If it's bothering you, it is most definitely not."

       "I had a nightmare."

       "Ah, I see. Is that why you've come home so late?"

       "...Yes."

       "Do you want to stay with me for the time being, then?" When they nodded, he smiled kindly, opening one arm for them so that the other could be free to finish what remained of his paperwork.

       They were secured in his arms the second he made his wordless offer.

       His fingers tenderly carded through their hair, mindful to avoid his rings catching uncomfortably on their locks.

       Love is a sin.

       In Snezhnaya, love is a sin.

       For his child, Pantalone was a sinner.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[ourlittleuluru]

I HAVE SO MANY, BUT ALSO 0 THOUGHTS ON THE NEW MEMORY WITH XAVIER???? (Because I feel like my brain is entirely assaulted by so much... no brain cells survived)

Okay... but the vibe that I got previously where I mentioned that Xavier felt like he could finally bring his walls down... MAN JUST BROUGHT DOWN THE ENTIRE DAM I TELLS YOU!

All in all, LOVE the story line and the development that happened within! Big character development too!

Full ramblings under the cut (ヘ ° w °;)ヘ (beware... it's a hecking long post...)

Off the start and there's already reference to their past lives being in the same school 😭

Of course, he made the first move, he was the one that even wanted to elope, but MC was dense (and also too responsible) 😤

Xavier... you and your technicalities. This man, seriously... And the fact that his profile has like... 0 information... huh. What a surprise, not. The way MC retorts thoooo

HE IS A PLANET THAT'S STRAYED FROM ORBIT இ௰இ And Xavier's been on his guard this whole time...

AND HELLO? NEWLYWED BANTER ALREADY???! CUTE??? 😩

ALSO THE FACT XAVIER SPUN THE STORY THAT HE BROKE AWAY FROM HIS FAMILY...! ELOPING!!! ANOTHER CALLBACKKKKK 😭😭😭

(and as usual, there's gotta be the gossiping asian aunties xd;;; )

Okay I need to stop it with the caps.... But I really can't help feeling like yelling into the void because all my brain cells are just being thrown all around by this memory. Okay, breathe...

Classic Xavier just... easily winning over the elderlies =w=;;; and then the corny (cringe to me) petnames tho 😭 stud muffin???? cutie patootie??? I can't evennnn

Okay the CN version, they just call each other baby/宝宝... the stark difference 🤣

it's still cute how they try to act so hard X'D but Xavier's totally just living out his fantasies at this point, I'm sure. Xavier's acting was very natural in a way. How easily he just leans on MC before, and calling her using a pet name, even just holding onto her after and naturally flowing into a "Come back soon" 🥺🥺🥺

Just a few days and they're already naturally living their domestic life, as if it's always been that way o(TヘTo)

Later on, Jenna commented on how MC has gotten thinner and MC was like thinking how most of the food was cooked by Xavier ToT Man is trying his hardest!

AND OKAY HELLO???! XAVIER CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT NUMBER 1????

MC totally is just letting Xavier use the kitchen???! No snappy remarks about kitchens on fire???

(and also MC just casually remembering what her at-home husband's favourite fruit is and just picking one up back for him 😭)

AND NO KITCHENS ON FIRE FOR REAL!!! I REPEAT NO FIRES IN THE KITCHEN! Xavier FINALLY can cook!?!! (but what's with the teasing Xavier ToT MARSHMALLOW SPAGHETTI?????)

His food is MC approved 😭😭😭😭 BABY BOY HAS GROWN!

And he just... casually indulged in her touch....

And why is it that after carrying out their mission, Xavier went from a simple white shirt, shows up in a whole getup? ToT but I'll take it! And MC being dense again and how Xavier just corrects her but she goes to hug him right away???? The whole 21 days to create a habit thing... And the way he asks for more?????? Man is slipping. He's about to just. Let it go.

And to think... the whole Kindled just started with MC's little push when Xavier replies vaguely as usual

Guess after 21 days of living out your dream life, nothing be holding him back at this point huh. And the way Xavier's tone just completely changed! HE BECAME SO SOFT AND LIKE NEEDY SOUNDING LIKE AHJDSHAFKLSDFL

BUT OML????! HELLO??? HOLD ON!!!

In the trailer, there were 2 kisses, right? MC just straight up snuck one! And Xavier went in for not one, BUT TWO! MORE TIMES. TWO!!

LOOK. THE FLOOD GATES HAVE OPENED. HE JUST BE LETTING ALL THE STUFF HE'S HELD BACK, OUT. Nothing is stopping him any more. And he's not about to let anything stop him after this, for sure.

Xavier finally can be himself. No facades, no alternate identities that he feels like he needs to put a distance with. Just as much as he loves every version of MC, he's dedicating every bit of him to MC 😭😭😭 I just... I can'tttttt. THIS WHOLE PART AFTER THE KINDLED BROKE ME...!

AND THEN HE SNEAKS IN ONE MORE FINAL KISS RIGHT AT THE END?!!! (≧﹏ ≦) aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

Okay. I'm done. I'm just... so done. I won't recover from this. I don't think I can... 💗_(:з)∠)_

[n6ptunova]

concerts • matt sturniolo

a/n: first matt post!! idk how i feel abt this one but i’ll post another matt one soon hope y’all like ittt

summary: you and matt go to a dominic fike concert together.

warnings: nothing just a lil fluff? not proofread.

“guys guys guys!” you repeated, getting the triplets and madi’s attention.

“dominic fike is gonna be performing at camp flog gnaw, let’s go pleaseee,” you practically begged. dominic fike was one of your favourite artists and you knew the boys, especially matt, liked him too so there’s no way they’ll refuse.

“are you kidding? we have to go! when is it?” matt reciprocated your excitement.

“it’s this sunday, i know someone who can get us tickets on short notic-”

“oh, this sunday is the lil skies show we told you about.. a couple of our friends are going so we can’t cancel last minute sorry,” chris interrupted looking guilty that he let you down. you declined going to the lil skies show before since you don’t really listen to him.

“that’s okay, i’ll look for someone else to go with i guess,” you were kinda disappointed.

see, when you first befriended the triplets you instantly clicked with nick and chris, but matt was a little harder to crack…or maybe your crush on him made it difficult to say a word. but when the topic of music and dominic fike was brought up, that was the first time you two really bonded and it became your little thing.

one time you had a particularly bad day, you were stressed and going through a lot with your job, college and friends that you started to isolate yourself. matt noticed you hadn’t been answering his texts or hanging out with them for a while.

so without telling his brothers he drove all the way to your house, you were so embarrassed of him seeing you in this state. but all he cared about was your well-being. he sat down next to you and listened intently to your venting without interrupting. he held you in his arms and rubbed your back as you cried and let it all out. he made you feel safe and comfortable.

“get up,” he said as you calmed down. he took you by the hand and gestured for you to go to your room. confused, you furrowed your eyebrows and turned to give him a questioning look.

“wash your face and change into something comfortable, just trust me.” that was all you needed to hear as you went to do exactly what he said. once you were done, he took your hand again and led you outside to his car where he opened the passenger door for you and closed it gently after you were seated.

“where are we going?” you asked as he got adjusted in the driver’s seat.

“somewhere, anywhere, i didn’t really think this through ngl,” he giggled nervously, “but whenever i felt down, going for a drive and listening music always helped, so i thought it would help you too- this is goofy it probably won’t i’m sor-”

“that’s perfect, matt.” you smiled trying to hide the creeping blush on your face. seeing how caring and nervous he is right now made you feel giddy inside. he smiled back shyly and started the car.

you got takeout and listened to dominic fike the entire time, singing your hearts out and laughing at how awful you both sounded, at how silly you probably looked playing an air guitar, but you didn’t care. you’ve never felt so free and happy and without realizing it you were falling more and more for matt.

eventually he parked in a dark, deserted area and opened the roof of the car, “this is the best place for stargazing, it always calmed me down,” he said making you both look up at the stars.

you sat in silence for a few minutes listening to his playlist shuffle. until ‘why’ by dominic fike started playing and you both sat up straight singing and dancing along, you singing extra loud relating to the lyrics and matt admiring you, happy he got you out of your bad mood.

this was the beginning of your “little thing”, you regularly went cruising together listening to dom, and eventually it turned into you two hanging out alone more often. that’s why you wanted to go to the concert. it was your thing. but live this time.

“i’ll go with you,” matt blurted.

“you will?”

“yeah, i’ve already seen skies plenty. not passing up on this opportunity,” there was a sudden tension in the room between you two, you knew what he meant. the others remained clueless as you both shared a knowing smile.

the day of the concert you felt a bit anxious, maybe it was seeing dom for the first time, or going to a concert alone with matt, or both. it seemed like a couple-y thing to do. it also didn’t help that matt was acting like your boyfriend.

holding your hand, guiding you everywhere, placing his hand on your lower back or around your arm while squeezing past the crowd of people. he even told you you look pretty, which he never did before.

as dom opened with one of his songs you were already screaming and jumping in excitement causing matt to chuckle at how cute you were. you spent the entire time reenacting your cruising time but live in concert, singing, dancing, jumping around.

some lyrics you would sing to each other looking straight into the other’s eyes. it felt like you were the only two people there. the last song that played was ‘why’, you both shared a look remembering the first time you hung out alone. you wanted to sing along so badly but the way matt was looking at you made you forget where you were and what you were doing.

you were suddenly nervous again, he looked so beautiful with the light hitting his face, his hair messed up from jumping around, and his face flushed from how cramped it was. you wanted to kiss him so bad.

luckily, he was thinking the same thing as he slid one hand up your neck, cupping your jaw and the other on your waist and leaned in to kiss you. no one would believe you but fireworks actually started going off in that same moment almost representing how you both felt from the inside. you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him even closer deepening the kiss while he smiled against your lips relieved that you reciprocated his feelings.

as you both pulled away the song got to the more upbeat part, he held your hand and you started singing along again with a new rush of adreline running through your veins lasting the entirety of the show.

on the way home you got some food and talked about the night you had and your feelings for each other. safe to say you don’t relate to ‘why’ anymore but it’ll forever be a special song to you and matt.

[am-i-obsessed---maybe]

New Face, Fresh Promises (10th Doctor x Timelord!Reader)

pre nanowrimo get all my fanfiction thoughts out challenge, hard mode.

continuation of this

Wordcount: 700(ish)

Series masterpost

Honestly I just wanna post something but I can't get around to finishing my new Doctor's Daughter fic for the as of yet unnamed Doctor Who series so I'm going back to my roots and using the maybe prompt list

23) Don't call me that

29) I'm never leaving, I promise

You burned, your body burned away with a single realization, you loved The Doctor. But not just loved, you were in love. You were in love with The Doctor. The man who saved you and destroyed your world in one day, the man who showed you a glimpse of the universe and left you wanting more. The man in the old blue box.

When a Time Lord regenerates a lot of things can happen, one of which is a loss of consciousness.

When you opened your eyes both The Doctor and Martha were looking down at you. You looked at The Doctor, blinked and smiled, "looks like I won" You said with a lopsided smile.

"Ugh, new mouth, I hate the feeling of a new mouth" You grumbled and tried to bring yourself up but the Doctor's arms quickly surrounded you, helping you up carefully instead. He didn't say anything simply helping you stand.

You tried to take a step on your own only to stumble, your legs felt like burned jelly.

"Doctor" You said carefully and The Doctor kept to himself how much he missed hearing you call him love.

"Yes?" He simply said.

"I don't think I'm done regenerating" You said, fainting into his arms.

The next thing you know you wake up in your room in the Tardis. The feeling of your sheets beneath you and your books and journals lining the walls. Beside you, on a chair you know he brought from somewhere else sat the Doctor. His face was drawn and he looked lost in thought.

You looked over at him and smiled.

"Hello again" You said. He didn't look amused.

"Why did you do that?" He asked.

"What?"

"Why did you force yourself to regenerate?? He asked.

You looked at him trying to both remember what happened and answer, "Doctor—"

"Don't call me that." He said sternly.

You closed your eyes and sighed.

"Love"

"Why did you do it? Why did you put yourself through that? I told you to go to protect you" He said and you sat up, looking him in his gorgeous brown eyes.

"Because I refuse to leave you" You said and he scowled.

"Don't say that—"

"I never want to leave you" You said, taking his hands in yours. You admired the sight.

"Doctor, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my lives with you—"

"No, no, don't say that" He repeated but you held his hands tightly. You knew why he felt this way, why he reacted the way he did but your post regeneration mind still wasn't fully working.

"Do you not feel the same? If you don't, I'll stop—"

"No, I, I" He said. his eyes were tearing up.

"Doctor I love you, do you love me back?" You asked.

"Of course I do, I adore you" He said, "Y/N you light my dark starless sky. You make me feel whole, like I'm no longer alone. It's not that"

"Then what is it?" You asked.

"They always leave." He said solemnly, looking away, "In the end they always leave"

You moved one of your hands up to hold The Doctor's face. forcing him to look at you.

"I'm never leaving, promise" You said and you saw a tiny smile peak it's way through his expression.

"You are brilliant" He whispered and you smiled.

"I love you" You said and he smiled too, a true full smile.

"I love you too" He said.

There was a beautiful moment, the two of you just basking in the love and care you had for one another and then you burst out laughing.

The Doctor was taken aback, his expression only sending you further into your fit of laughter.

"What? What's going on?" He asked only to be met with more laughter.

"Y/N are you okay?" He asked.

"Yes, I—" You could barely control it but you did. You controlled it enough to say, "It's just, stars that was cheesy, I don't know where that came from" You said and you could tell there was a dash of shock and worry on The Doctor's face so you clarified, "I guess this is what I am now. A cheesy romantic"

The Doctor smiled, "There are worse things to be" He said and you nodded.

[morning-star-joy]

burned out flames should never reignite, but I thought you might take me home

a stranger's heart without a home Chapter 13

Pairing: friends with benefits Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Chapter Summary: When Tommy realizes you've been sleeping with someone, you agree to let him set you up on a date to get him off your back. Joel witnesses you on your date, and shows up at your house later that night for a familiar midnight call—but this time is a bit different than the ones before.

Chapter Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ Only MDNI) fingering, praise, drunk sex, unprotected p in v sex, possessiveness, jealousy, dirty talk including mild degradation, alcohol use, language, some angst

A/N: Full version of burned out flames should never reignite. We're almost caught up to ao3! In other news, I set up a kofi! No pressure at all to leave anything, but if you feel like it, a coffee would be greatly appreciated. The link is in my bio! Love y'all so so much!!

Wordcount: 15.1k

chapter 1 || chapter 12 || chapter 13 || masterlist

ao3 link

“You fall, and you crawl, and you take—no,” you pause your singing to shake your head, mumbling to yourself before starting over, “No, that’s not it. Uh—you fall, and you crawl, and you break…”

You spun in your kitchen, a smile breaking across your face as you sang the lyrics to the song that had lingered in the back of your mind for two decades. Once Tommy had gifted the cassette to you, you had taken it upon yourself to memorize the lyrics, listening to the song on repeat whenever you had the chance to.

It had elicited laughter from Dina more than once, the girl playfully judging you for your mumbled, off-tune singing until you sat her down and forced her to listen to the song with you.

“Okay,” she had said as you shared the headphones, her foot tapping to the beat as she nodded to you, laughing again as you swayed and sang along. “I get it now. It’s good.”

Eventually, you listened to the entire album, but you kept going back to that one song. It helped alleviate the pain from a dagger you had never managed to remove from your heart, giving a sense of comfort that you needed as autumn rolled closer to Jackson.

The shift in seasons brought forth a memory that you would rather not recall, but you knew you would be forced to remember once the days got shorter and colder. So you held onto this happiness, this rare feeling of peace, for as long as you could.

A knock sounded on your back door, and you jumped, caught in a rare moment of being completely taken aback as you stared at the small window on the door, seeing the perpetrator who had intruded on your moment.

You sighed, crossing the short distance to swing the door open, arching an inquisitive eyebrow at the man leaning against your doorway, the same way he always did.

“May I remind you of Rule #1, cowboy?” you teased as you leaned against the open door, to which Joel rolled his eyes.

“I’m here for the friend part of the arrangement,” he mumbled, and your lips twitched into a nearly unnoticeable smile.

“Not the benefit part?” you drawled, and he sighed at your sultry tone as you shifted to allow him into the house.

“Not right now,” he said simply while he moved past you, the brushing of his body against yours causing a spark of electricity to shiver through you that you blamed on the activities that you were alluding to.

“What a shame,” you sighed playfully as you closed the door behind him, making sure to cover up the window; blocking the early morning light out, as well as protecting you from any prying eyes of potential nosy neighbors.

A laugh almost escaped you as you watched Joel head right for the cabinet where you kept the mugs. He pulled down the engraved mug without hesitation, grabbing another mug to slide down the counter towards you before he turned towards the coffee tin that you had just recently replenished.

“Did you move in when I wasn’t looking?” you joked, eliciting a scoff from the gruff man as he prepared the coffee, placing the pot on the stove as you reached for your matchbox.

“Shut up,” he muttered, the usual response both of you tended to give when you didn’t have a clever response to something the other one said.

You merely hummed as a reply, blowing out the match after you struck a flame that lit the stovetop under the coffee pot.

Your relationship with Joel had begun to settle over recent weeks. The two of you ironed out most of the awkwardness in your new, tentative friendship, though you both still felt more comfortable partaking in each other’s company in private than being seen together in public.

No mention was ever made of the night you had patched Joel up in his home. There was no reason to dig up the grave that memory was buried in, and you were at peace leaving that moment to rest.

Absolutely no part of you was curious about the feelings that Joel had stirred from you when he held on to your hand for longer than he needed to.

No, there was no fiber of your being that still lingered on the memory of the sight of his bare back before he pulled a shirt on.

Or his soft thanks before you ran away.

Rules, you reminded yourself sharply, shaking the memory out of your head as you realized it was clawing its own way out from where you had laid it to rest, six feet under in your mind. Nothing personal. No taking off clothes. No bedrooms. 

You glanced back at Joel as he poured himself a cup of coffee when it was ready, licking his lips in anticipation before he brought the mug to his mouth for a sip.

Nothing personal. No kissing.

That specific part of the rule passing through your mind unexpectedly made you jump, and you glanced away quickly as you tried to deny to yourself that the urge had been there, no matter how brief.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched his shoulders relax as a quiet sigh of content left him from tasting the bitter drink before he put his mug down, and your stomach flipped before you forced yourself to look away again.

Nothing personal, you repeated internally, the words becoming a familiar mantra whenever moments with Joel like this arrived. Nothing personal. No—

Your mug being pushed towards you again caught your attention. Looking down, you saw that it had been filled with coffee, and your heart thudded against your chest when you realized it was prepared the way you preferred it.

When you reached your hands out to take it, your fingers were trembling slightly, and you steeled your nerves as you grabbed it. Swallowing thickly, you pushed whatever the fuck was happening in your mind deep down under the surface as you brought the mug up to your lips for a sip, trying not to let out a noise of satisfaction at the perfect taste.

You didn’t thank him, and Joel didn’t ask you to.

Familiar silence descended on you both as you drank your coffee together in relative comfort. In the middle of a sip, your gaze landed on your little dining table, and the memory of Joel’s face between your thighs as you spread your legs for him on it flashed through your mind so quickly, so suddenly that you choked on your drink.

Joel glanced at you from the corner of his eye at the sound, and you spun away from him, clearing your throat loudly a few times until you recovered.

“You doing okay there?” he asked, and you stiffened as you heard the question had more of a hint of smug teasing to it than real concern.

“Oh, just dandy,” you drawled, using sarcasm to cover up how flustered you were just from the memory of Joel going down on you.

Fucking hell, the man had fucked you so many times you had lost count, so why did the act of him eating you out get you so riled up?

You paused, going over the thought you had just had again as the first part of it sent shock rippling through you.

Jesus, you had fucked Joel so many times you had lost count.

Sure, you hadn’t exactly been a blushing virgin before Joel. You had had your fair share of sexual encounters, including a few one-night stands with individuals in Jackson who you still ran into from time to time. But those had only ever been one, maybe two nights.

But Joel, you kept going back to.

And now the way his hands gripped your hips was familiar. The way he licked and bit just below your neck, in a spot you could easily cover up any sign of a mark, was a sign that he wanted you. The way his head tilted back, his face contorting in pleasure as his movements became unsteady—you knew that meant he was close, that he was about to give in to it. 

Give in to you.

“You sure about that, sweetheart?” Joel’s voice came as a smooth murmur in your ear, his hand spreading across your hip as he gently tugged you back into him, and a soft, audible exhale left your lips as your back pressed to his chest.

Fuck, you thought, your eyes closing, mouth falling open as his hand continued to slowly move across the hemline of your sleep pants before dipping down under it.

“Mm, no panties?” Joel mumbled, lips pressed against your ear, and you gasped quietly as his fingers lightly traced along your folds. 

His digits were wet—oh, fuck, he had probably licked them before he snuck up on you when you were lost in thought. Joel had walked over here with the intention of finger-fucking you while you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.

“Uh—” your breath hitched, any dry remarks lost before they could leave your lips as his fingers spread you apart before finding your clit.

You bit your lip, a needy whine escaping your throat as one hand leaves the mug of coffee you were still holding to grab his arm.

“I thought—” you broke off with a harsh exhale as he began to trace circles around your clit, biting down on your lip harder before you finally managed to stutter out, “Thought maybe you’d show up last night. Figured I’d make it easier to access.”

Joel chuckled against your ear, the rumble of his smooth baritone sending shivers down your spine as you melted back into him. He began to slowly rub your clit from side to side, and a soft moan slipped past your lips as you rolled your hips into his touch.

“Don’t you have such a pretty way with words,” he drawled, and you moaned as you realized he was actually teasing you—in your kitchen, drinking your coffee—and, god, you were more than happy to let him.

You hissed as the coffee sloshed from your mug when you nearly dropped it, dodging the drops of hot liquid before Joel easily grabbed it from you with his free hand, setting it on the counter next to you to be forgotten. He then spread that hand across your stomach, reaching up to grip your breast in his palm, thumb flicking over your nipple until it grew hard through the fabric of your tank top.

“Fuck, J—” you bit your lip, just cutting yourself off from moaning his name.

Even though you had already whimpered it more than enough times when he went down on you, suddenly your stubbornness was flaring up. A determination not to let him see how much he got to you after your thoughts earlier.

But then his fingers began to slow, his thumb slipping away from your nipple as he rubbed your clit achingly slowly. You whined as you tried to roll your hips against his hand faster, even as he kept the slow pace.

“What was that?” he whispered, his nose pressed against the nape of your neck, and you exhaled sharply because, fuck, that nose was gorgeous, the strength and slope of it and—

Wait, gorgeous?

What?

“Fuck,” you gasped, trying to pull yourself away from him, but he easily pulled you right back against him, his grip firm where his hand was still cupping your breast.

“The other part,” Joel murmured smugly, apparently still caught on your words from earlier, and not your sudden hesitation.

“I—”

His thumb flicked your clit and you gasped, back arching as he held you tight in his grip. Still, you shook your head stubbornly, keeping your lips sealed even as he flicked your clit again, causing a whine to become trapped in your closed mouth.

“Say it,” he whispered, urging your lips to part with his command as his thumb began to suddenly rub quickly over your clit again, and your mouth dropped open with a sharp gasp. “What, you’re shy now? After you couldn’t stop moaning it when I made you cum three times on that table?”

“Fuck you,” you snapped, though the words lost their edge with the pleasure of the sudden fast pace of his rough, thick fingers stimulating you.

“Working on it,” he grunted, a whine escaping your throat at the words. Joel’s lips found your ear again, his teeth grazing the shell of it, tongue flicking out along it as he hissed, “Say. It.”

When one of his digits slipped easily through your wet folds and sunk into you without warning at his order, you nearly cried out from the sudden intense fullness, your head tilting back onto his shoulder as you gasped, “Joel!”

You could hear the smirk in his voice, could feel it against your skin as his lips grazed across the edge of your jawline from where your head rested back on his shoulder, “There it is. Good girl.”

A whimper left your throat, his name leaving your lips again as his finger continued to thrust into you, again and again, pulling another moan of his name out with it each time. Eventually, he sunk another finger in to join the first, and you lost complete awareness of your surroundings except for his fingers inside you and on you, rapidly stimulating your clit as he whispered filthy things into your ear.

“That’s it, darling,” he murmured, and you shivered from the sound of his Southern accent wrapping around the term he called you, your chest heaving from your rapidly approaching high as he continued to tease your orgasm closer with his words, “You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding desperately as your hips rolled with his fingerfucking, his free hand moving to stimulate your other nipple. “Yes, Joel, yes.”

“I know you wanna cum,” he mumbled, tongue flicking out along the edge of your jaw before he bit down on the skin underneath it, and you gasped as your hips bucked into his touch.

“Yes, please, please,” you begged, losing any sense of coherence that would make you hold onto your stubborn pride, instead losing yourself in submitting to him completely in this moment of approaching ecstasy.

“Then do it,” he drawled, lips moving up to graze against the top of your temple as he commanded almost gently, “Cum for me, sweetheart.”

With those words, it only took a few more thrusts of his fingers and a last, delicious circle against your clit for you to do as he told you. You gasped as your hips jerked forward, your body falling back so hard with the intensity of the orgasm that Joel had to grab you tighter, holding you up against him as you shook with the pleasure that rocked through you.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, your eyes finally flashing open, vision still blurry from the euphoria of release. “Fuck.”

When your vision focused, you saw Joel looking down at you, his face mere inches from yours as your head still rested back on his shoulder, and your heart stopped.

Your eyes, glazed over with the haze of pleasure, searched his dark ones from where they watched you from above. There was an intensity to them, a familiar desire, and something else that made your lips part subconsciously.

Joel’s eyes flashed down to your mouth at the movement, and your breath caught in your throat. His brow furrowed, staring for a few seconds longer before meeting your eyes again, and you licked your lips as you tried to bring yourself fully back to the present, still lost in the afterglow of your orgasm.

“I—”

You weren’t sure who had started to speak, but whoever it was got rudely interrupted by the sound of a knock on your front door.

For a moment, you and Joel just froze—probably trying to figure out if you had just hallucinated the sound, or mistaken something else for it.

But then there was another knock, and you swore under your breath as you jolted out from Joel’s grip that had loosened on you from shock.

“Shit.”

“Fuck.”

You and Joel began to hiss a variety of swears to yourselves as you tried to fix yourself up, making yourself as presentable as you could as he darted towards your back door. He stopped when he reached it, casting a panicked look back to you, and you sighed before waving him off.

“Just go,” you whispered, and the man had the gall to give you that stupid fucking smug arch of an eyebrow as he glanced over you.

“You’re a mess,” he mumbled, his hand coming up to push a stubborn strand of your hair away from your face as you walked forward to shove him out the back door, and you ignored the skip of your heartbeat by scoffing at the remark.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” you rolled your eyes, biting your lip as you took one last look at him standing on your back door steps. Your mouth opened to say something, stopping when you realized you didn’t know what to say, before shutting the door in his face with a sigh.

There was nothing more to say, you told yourself. You continued to comb your hands through your hair, adjusting your sleep pants as you hurried to the incessant knocking on your front door.

“Yeah, alright, I’m coming,” you snapped, adjusting your clothes one last time before swinging the door open with no small amount of exasperation. “Who the actual fuck—”

You stopped short, your stomach dropping as Tommy grinned at you from the other side of the door.

“Hey,” he greeted happily, holding up a small tin in his hands. “Came across some more coffee in a recent trade. Figured I’d drop some off since I remembered you were low on—”

Tommy stopped suddenly, his eyebrow slowly raising as he leaned back, his gaze moving up and down your body as you shifted awkwardly at the analysis.

“What?” you tried to snap, but it came out as more of a mumble before trying to grab for the coffee tin, which he quickly pulled away.

Laughter began to spill from Tommy’s lips, both his brows lifting now as he asked bluntly, “Alright, who are you fucking?”

You scoffed, a loud laugh of surprise leaving your own lips as you couldn’t help but give him an incredulous grin.

“You can’t be serious,” you said disbelievingly, but his smug grin told you all you needed to know. Rolling your eyes, you tried to grab for the coffee again, though your faint amusement quickly turned to exasperation as he kept holding it out of your reach while he shifted past you. “Tommy—”

“Are they still here?” he asked with a grin back at you, clearly getting far too much entertainment at the expense of your exasperation from his sudden jump to conclusions.

Which, well, he was right, but Jesus fucking Christ you didn’t need Tommy to know you were having regular sex with somebody, of all people to figure it out.

“Nobody’s here, Tommy,” you replied, your voice clearly showing your annoyance as you followed him around your living as he swept an analytical gaze around it, apparently searching for any sign that somebody else had just left in a hurry. “Have you ever heard of masturbation?”

Tommy laughed loudly, pointing at you with the coffee tin as he began to move into your kitchen, and you sped up your footsteps to try and catch up with him.

“Really?” he asked incredulously, ignoring your nod before he gestured towards your jaw. “Then how’d you manage to do that to yourself?”

Your hand flew up to your jawline, pressing your fingers down along it until you winced at a sensitive spot, and you held back a groan as you remembered Joel’s lips and teeth on that spot.

“Seriously, Tommy,” you groaned as you walked up to where he stood in front of your counter. “Nobody—”

You stopped short as Tommy held up a mug with a familiar engraving, still half-full of black coffee, and he looked smugly at you when you fell into stunned silence.

“That means nothing,” you said quickly, folding your arms over your chest, too stubborn to let him believe he was right even as he set it down to pick up your own mug next to it.

“Damn, even sharing your coffee with them?” he teased, a glint in his eyes as he shook the tin he had brought in his hand before setting it down at your small, humble coffee station, along with your mug. “You gonna bring them to dinner next?”

You coughed, lifting a hand up to cover your smirk of amusement, because you really shouldn’t be entertained by the thought of the person Tommy was alluding to bringing to your monthly dinner being somebody who already attended it.

“It’s not a big deal, Tommy,” you sighed once you were finally able to wipe the smirk off your face, dropping your hand to your side while he looked at you in disbelief.

“Are you kidding me?” he exclaimed, waving his arms before gesturing back to the two mugs on your counter. “You’re drinking morning coffee with someone! That’s huge!”

You shifted awkwardly, glancing away from him as his words cause unease to build inside of you.

“It’s not like that,” you tried to explain, lifting your hands in exasperation as you tried to find the words. “It’s just sex. Really.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” he drawls with a roll of his eyes, leaning against the counter with a smug smirk and his arms crossed. “So, who is it?”

You spun away from him with a frown, picking your mug back up to take another sip of your now cold coffee.

“Why would I tell you?” you covered up your trepidation with a sigh, sending an unamused look at his mock look of offense at your next words, “So you can interrogate them?”

“I mean, someone has to,” he said with a shrug and an easy smile, to which you shook your head in disbelief.

Tommy stared at you, his gaze searching yours, and after a moment where you didn’t budge, he deflated slightly, amusement faltering with a heavy sigh.

“Alright, fine,” he muttered as he waved his hand dismissively. “Keep your secrets.”

Even though he let it go, you could still see the curiosity in his gaze, and you were proven right when after only a few moments, he opened his mouth to ask, “Can you at least tell me how long it’s been going on?”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you could feel a headache coming on from the situation that you had found yourself in.

“A few months,” you half-lied, deciding to leave out the fact that the first time that it happened was more than a few months ago. He opened his mouth, probably to ask another question, and you raised your finger to point at him as you quickly added, “No more questions!”

Tommy raised his hands in a defensive gesture, shrugging casually even though you could tell his curiosity had not been sated.

“Okay, okay,” he sighed as he pushed himself off the counter, but not without sending another sweeping gaze around the kitchen, as if he was still expecting to find your mysterious casual sex partner lurking around the corner. “I get it, you want privacy. You don’t wanna tell your best friend that you’ve been fucking somebody for months. That’s fine.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes at the melodramatics as you placed your hands between his shoulders to begin pushing him back towards the front door.

“Because you’d make way too big a deal out of it,” you said as you pushed Tommy out of the kitchen and through the living room, even as he tried to hold onto walls and plant his feet into the ground to halt your progress while he laughed.

“You sure they’re not lurking about somewhere?” he said over his shoulder, grinning at you as you managed to wrestle him back to the front door. “I’d like to get a look at the mysterious individual who stole the heart of my dearest friend.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the words, even as the truth of the ‘dearest friend’ comment made you soften slightly.

“It’s just stress relief, Tommy,” you sighed as you swung the door open, leaning against it as you gestured for him to exit, which he did with a heavier sigh that outmatched your own.

“Sure, sure,” he drawled sarcastically, his Southern accent strong with the words as he walked out onto the porch. He spun around, walking backwards towards the porch steps as he threw a charismatic grin towards you. “So you wouldn’t be opposed if I set you up on a date, then?”

You glared at him, wanting to deny him as you always did, but you knew that he wouldn’t stop pestering you about what he had discovered this morning unless you agreed. So you threw a hand up in the air and snapped, “Yeah, go ahead! Sounds great, actually.”

Tommy’s eyebrow raised as surprise flashed across his face, but he quickly recomposed himself, his grin returning with an air of glee at your agreement to the idea he had been pushing on you for years.

“Alrighty then!” he shouted, drawing the attention of the early risers down the street, and you glared at his overabundant enthusiasm. 

A laugh nearly escaped you as he nearly fell down the porch steps from walking backwards, but he caught himself on the railing, recovering quickly from his brief stumble before directing the grin back towards you again. “Just you wait, I’m gonna set you up with the perfect match.”

“Yup, I’m sure,” you said sarcastically with a roll of your eyes as you began to close your door.

Tommy’s grin grew mischievous, a glint of something akin to mayhem in his eyes as he added, “Then we’ll see if your mystery suitor will appear from the shadows to—”

You shut the door in the middle of his sentence, shaking your head as you heard his laughter echo even through the walls that now separated you from him.

A groan escaped your throat as you sank against the door, your back sliding down it as you combed your hand through your hair.

“Motherfucker,” you muttered, though you weren’t sure if it was directed towards Tommy, Joel, or even yourself. “What the fuck did I just get myself into?”

Joel glared half-heartedly at his brother as he was dragged by the younger man to The Tipsy Bison, his brows furrowed at Tommy’s cheerfulness that almost left a bounce in his step as they walked under the streetlights.

“Is there a reason why you’re in such a good mood?” Joel drawled, though his tone was playful as he arched an eyebrow at Tommy’s annoyed huff.

“Just doing a little recon,” Tommy muttered with a sly smirk, which only increased Joel’s cautious curiosity when they walked through the doors to the bar.

Joel only had made it a few steps into the bar when Tommy’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, pulling him to the side, maneuvering on the outskirts of the room to find a table in the back.

“Now you’re just being weird,” Joel muttered, to which Tommy rolled his eyes as he sat at the small table and got the attention of a nearby waitress, greeting the woman by name and exchanging a few pleasant words before ordering their drinks.

“Been that way for a long time, big brother,” Tommy replied smoothly, sending a wink towards Joel at the older man’s annoyance, to which Joel scoffs.

“Yeah, sure,” Joel mumbled, his brows still furrowed as he glanced away out towards the room, as if he could ascertain why Tommy had been so eager to come out tonight.

The bar was less busy than it was during the height of summer, but there were still a fair amount of people out tonight. They were probably trying to catch those last warm nights before autumn fully arrived, and Joel’s fingers tapped against the table as he scanned the groups and individuals for anything out of place.

His search was interrupted when the waitress returned, placing glasses filled with familiar amber liquid in front of them. Tommy thanked them kindly, and Joel’s nod and quiet murmur of “thank you, ma’am” was followed by a blush on the waitress’ face, her gaze lingering on Joel a bit longer than necessary before she left to the next table.

Joel noticed it, but he ignored it, lifting his glass to his lips for a sip, even as Tommy smirked at him.

After a moment where Tommy’s smirk didn’t waver, Joel sighed, glancing up at his brother with an annoyed, “What?”

Tommy shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he lifted his own glass for a sip.

“Nothing, nothing…” Tommy brushed off, and Joel shook his head, deciding to ignore his brother’s cryptic smirk until the younger man spoke again, “I mean, you gotta know that the ladies around town are curious about you, right?”

“Shut up,” Joel replied bluntly, taking another sip of his drink as Tommy let out a bark of laughter.

“Come on, I’m being serious!” Tommy grinned, leaning in to rest his elbows on the table, meeting Joel’s unamused expression with one of pure entertainment at the topic. “Maria has heard them whispering, especially after your little date with Esther. They think you’re hard to get, and some see that as a challenge.”

Joel scoffed, shaking his head again as he glanced away from Tommy’s gaze as it became curious at Joel’s quick dismissiveness. 

“Well, they ain’t gonna win that one,” Joel found himself muttering, his grip tightening around his glass as a familiar face flashed through his mind, and he stiffened before taking another large sip of his drink.

When he turned back, Tommy had only grown more curious, but Joel cut off whatever his brother was about to say quickly as he asked, “So what exactly are we doing recon for tonight, baby brother?”

Tommy scoffed, muttering an annoyed “pendejo” under his breath, though his tone was affectionate before his gaze sweeps across the room.

“Ah,” Tommy exhaled, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face as he looked back at Joel, gesturing with his head in the direction of whatever had caught his attention as he muttered, “at your three o’clock.”

Joel’s frown grew, suddenly feeling uncertain at Tommy’s clear smugness as he followed the direction given to find whatever his brother had been looking at.

And when he saw it, his entire body tensed up, grip tightening around his glass as his blood ran cold.

Joel didn’t know what he had been expecting to see, but he certainly hadn’t expected it to be her.

The crease between his brow deepened as his eyebrows furrowed, gaze flickering over the small scene that was almost unnoticeable in the grand scheme of the bar that night; but now that Joel’s attention had been brought to it, he couldn’t see anything else.  

Her back was almost completely to him from where she sat at a small table diagonally opposite from their corner in the bar, holding a similar glass to his own in her hands, her gaze focused on the person opposite her. There was a small smile on her face as she nodded at something they said, her legs crossing under the table, the movement drawing Joel’s attention to them, and he froze.

Joel’s gaze slowly dragged up her bare legs, to where the skirt stopped just above her knees, and he felt a sudden flare of an emotion he never thought he would feel again at the sight.

He quickly looked away, straightening in his seat as he glanced back at his brother, thanking God that Tommy was too focused on the pair himself to catch Joel’s reaction.

It’s not like Joel hadn’t known it was coming; she had told him about the situation she had gotten herself into the next night they had been together, after that early morning he showed up and broke part of their first rule by fingerfucking her in broad daylight.

Neither of them had mentioned the slip-up in their carefully followed rules, or the near disastrous situation of somebody almost finding them like that, until she slowly brought up the consequence of their actions.

“So, uh…” she had hedged as she leaned back, hands placed on his chest as she rode him on his couch, the words coming out between quick breaths, “I’m going on a date.”

Joel had paused, his hips no longer rolling to meet her movements, hands tightening their grip on her hips as his gaze shot to her and he grunted out, “What?”

She shrugged—actually shrugged, like it was the most casual topic in the world—as she rolled her hips faster, earning another grunt from Joel, but his tight grip on her waist didn’t falter as she replied, “Well, Tommy—”

Joel groaned out of annoyance, running a hand down his face as he muttered through it, “Please don’t mention my brother when my dick is inside you.”

She had the audacity to chuckle at that, the sound breathless and sending shivers through Joel, and he parted his fingers on his face to glare at her through them.

“Okay, well,” she huffed, sliding her hands down to find better leverage on Joel’s torso as she began to bounce on him, and Joel nearly lost himself in just watching her like that. His eyes were glued to her breasts through her thin t-shirt, wondering how they would look if they were bare when she bounced on him, before her next words brought him sharply back to the topic again, “somebody came in after you left. They saw your mug and—”

“What?” Joel interrupts harshly, pushing himself up to a sitting position so he could catch her eye.

The new position made him grunt though, his hand finding the small of her back to steady her as she also moaned at the new pleasure this pose caused.

“I—fuck, hold on,” she gasped as she reached her hands up to place on his shoulders, adjusting herself until she slammed back down on him, hard, and when she nearly cried out from it, he knew she had found just the right spot for him to hit her with each thrust in.

And, God, she looked so fucking gorgeous when she was completely coming apart from it, but he needed answers.

So Joel reached up, wrapping both arms around her waist to keep her still, eliciting a glare from her when she looked down at him.

“Joel—” she shook her head, digging her fingers into his shoulders through his shirt, her glare hardening further as she tried to move again, but he wouldn’t let her. She finally stopped when he didn’t budge, letting out a huff of, “Seriously?”

“What does he know?” Joel said in a hard tone, his gaze serious, and she sighed.

“Not much,” she shook her head, pushing her hair from her face, Joel’s eyes following the movement of the strands falling into place before he snapped them back to her face. “I told him it was casual. He doesn’t know it’s you.”

Joel snorted, shaking his head as he muttered, “Well, that’s comforting.”

She rolled her eyes, sighing as she smacked him in the shoulder. “Relax, would you? I agreed to this date so it would get him off my back.”

Joel’s eyes darted between hers, searching for any deceit in her words, even as a voice in the back of his mind was asking why he didn’t want it to be a lie.

“That’s it?” the words slipped from his mouth quietly, before he could stop them.

Her gaze was locked with his, a look he hadn’t seen before wavering in her eyes as her breath escaped her in a soft exhale. She watched him for a moment longer, Joel’s nerves increasing as she did so, before she finally nodded once.

“That’s it,” she confirmed, and Joel let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

“Alright,” he murmured, moving his hands back to her hips, and she let out a sigh of relief, starting to lift herself up on him again.

“So can we please get back to—fuck!” she interrupted her own words with a gasp as Joel bucked up into her, hard, finding that same spot from earlier that drove her crazy, and he continued to hit it relentlessly until she came with his name on her lips.

Joel tore himself from the memory back to the present moment, blinking rapidly as he looked in front of him to see that Tommy was still watching the pair with a smirk on his face.

“She finally let you set her up, then,” Joel found the words slipping out of his mouth, and he cursed himself for it, lifting his glass to busy himself with drinking so he wouldn’t say anything else stupid.

“Yup. She had to, once I finally got her number,” Tommy said confidently, leaning back in the chair and draping his arm across the back of it, his stance casual and confident.

Joel looked back at him, finally lowering his glass. He knew exactly what his brother meant, but he saw the opportunity to find out just what Tommy’s theories were, so he could keep the second rule maintained. “What do you mean?”

Tommy took a long sip from his glass, looking far too smug for Joel’s liking, and he finally began to understand what she had meant when she had thrown the ‘stupid, smug Miller look’ accusation.

Finally, Tommy lifted his glass to gesture towards her with it, and Joel’s gaze flashed back to her, his hand on the table clenching into a fist as he saw that she was still smiling.

“She’s been seeing someone,” Tommy said simply, and Joel’s eyes widened a fraction at the unexpected word choice as they flashed back to his brother. “For a few months, apparently. She denies it, but…”

He trailed off with a shrug, looking back to meet Joel’s gaze just as the older man managed to put his guard back up, revealing no hint of how much the words had thrown him off.

“How'd you figure?” Joel asked, forcing his tone to remain neutral, his posture casual as he watched his brother’s expression closely over the top of his glass.

Tommy only smirked before cryptically replying, “I have my ways.”

Joel tried to suppress the chill of trepidation he felt at that response. He told himself that it was fine, that Tommy hadn’t caught on to the fact that Joel was the one seeking her out. 

If Tommy had figured it out, Joel was sure his younger brother would be jumping across the table by now to strangle him for fucking his closest friend.

“I think she likes them, though,” Tommy spoke softly, and Joel had to lean forward across the table to hear him clearly over the loud conversations surrounding them in the bar.

The words caused a strange feeling to stir within Joel’s chest, but he ignored it for the time being in favor of continuing his line of questioning, caution be damned in that moment.

“Why do this, then?” Joel asked, jerking his chin towards the table where she sat. Her head was tilted to the side now, her chin resting in her hand with that small smile still on her face, and Joel’s stomach twisted unpleasantly before he looked away again.

“Well, either it’ll weed them out…” Tommy started casually, glancing around the room as if he expected to find whoever was the culprit of capturing her attention when, unbeknownst to him, that person was sitting across the table from him now, “...or it’ll confirm my suspicions.”

“Suspicions?” Joel repeated in confusion, glancing back to the man seated across from her, and Joel’s gaze shot back to Tommy as he said in disbelief, “What, Mike? You think she’s been seeing Mike?”

Tommy shrugged, looking over at the serious patrolman who was seated across from her now, a rare smile over the man’s face as he talked to her.

“Well, he’s kind of a hardass, which falls in line with her type,” Tommy chuckled, and Joel stiffened as he looked back down at his cup.

“I suppose based on whatever her…” Joel trailed off, hesitating as he turned the glass in his fingers, “...previous relationships are, you’d know best.”

“Relationships?” Tommy repeated with a laugh. “No, no, she doesn’t do relationships.”

Joel’s brow arched as he glanced back up, his attention now fully captured.

“I only know from her flings,” Tommy explained, waving his hand dismissively. “I know she’s had a few here and there, but she doesn’t pursue anything serious. She’s goddamn stubborn on that matter. Probably left more than one broken heart in her wake”

Joel slowly shifted his attention back to her at the words, his gaze moving along her body as that old familiar feeling stirred again at the revelation that she’s had flings here in town.

When was her last fling? Joel found himself wondering, his grip curling around his glass tighter and tighter as his line of thought continued. How recent was it? Who was it? Did he know them? Has she had one since they started their arrangement?

“Yeah, she likes them too serious for their own good,” Tommy sighed, pulling Joel’s attention back to his brother, and he quickly loosened his grip on his glass as he realized he was starting to hold it so tight that it was close to fracturing. He lifted it for a sip right as Tommy’s next teasing words hit him out of nowhere, “You know, like you.”

Joel choked on the alcohol, coughing loudly into his fist as the glass clattered back down onto the table. He looked back at Tommy in surprise, fear flooding his body as he wondered if Tommy had actually finally put two and fucking two together to figure it out, but he was merely laughing at Joel’s expense in a way only a younger sibling could.

“Relax, I’m fucking with you,” Tommy finally managed to get the words out between his cackling, and Joel scoffed as he sat back in his chair with a hard glare. “Hell would freeze over before you two stood in the same goddamn room together by choice.”

Joel’s gaze flashed back down to his cup, a frown flickering onto his face even as he muttered, “Yeah.”

Tommy’s laughter came to an abrupt halt after that, the man quickly shifting in his seat to face the other way as he hissed under his breath, “Shit, look away.”

“What—”

“Look away!” he repeated in a harsh whisper, staring at the opposite wall, and Joel shifted with a frown.

Despite Tommy’s urgings, Joel did what any true older brother would do, which was the opposite as what their younger sibling told them to do.

Glancing back at the table, he saw her gaze was honed in on them, and Joel quickly shifted, his head whipping around to face the opposite wall with Tommy after making eye contact.

“Fucking hell,” Tommy mumbled, glaring at Joel from the corner of his eye as he accused in a harsh whisper, “you looked, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” Joel hissed, glaring daggers at the wall ahead of them, both their bodies turned away from her table as much as they could, but surely it was pointless.

There was no doubt that she had seen them now, and Joel was sure both he and Tommy now dreaded whatever hellfire she was about to rain upon them for snooping on her date.

Joel half-expected her hands to come slamming down on their table any moment, her glare deadly as she faced them down from above, but nothing happened.

After another long moment, both brothers shifted awkwardly, glancing at each other nervously before looking back towards her table.

She was gone.

And so was her date.

They began looking around the room, trying to figure out where the pair had gone, when Joel caught a glance of the fabric of that goddamned skirt flaring out from the corner of his eye.

He shifted slightly, following the movement to where she was striding towards the doors, not looking back once as she exited the bar with Mike’s hand on her upper back.

Joel’s blood had run cold by the time Tommy sighed, and he didn’t look back at his younger brother as the man mumbled, “Well, she’s gonna have it in for me for at least a month, now.”

Yeah, Joel couldn’t help but think to himself with a wince, even as his stomach continued to twist uncomfortably while he stared at the now empty table where she had been sitting, smiling, drinking and laughing in a fucking skirt on a fucking date. 

Yeah, that probably made two of them.

You sighed heavily, slamming your door shut behind you before reaching your feet up to begin pulling off the stupid shoes you had worn tonight.

“Heels,” you muttered to yourself, pulling one off by the ankle strap and letting it fall to the ground in your entryway before shifting your weight onto that foot to pull the other shoe off. “Fucking heels. What was I doing?”

Given, they weren’t that large of a heel, only an inch or two. But you had pulled them out of the back of your closet anyway, the place where you had buried them when Dina had given them to you as a birthday present—although she also had to guess the date, just like Tommy—last year.

The heels would have been enough of a statement, but you just had to go and wear the stupid skirt too.

You groaned, rubbing your temples to try and stave off a growing headache as you walked barefoot down the hallway towards your kitchen. 

Why had you even done it? Why had you gotten so dressed up? You had been dreading the date enough, you didn’t have to make such a big deal out of it.

Maybe you had wanted to convince yourself that you could do it. Convince yourself that you could shave your legs, wear pretty skirts with heels and go on dates.

You slammed your drink cabinet closed after pulling a decanter filled with whiskey out, pulling the stopper out and taking a large drink.

But why now? Why were you trying to do those things now, when you had never given a fuck before?

You collapsed on your sofa, kicking your legs up on it to rest your feet on the other end as your head leaned back against the armrest. Staring up at the ceiling, you took another long drink from the decanter before letting out another sigh.

“God fucking dammit,” you muttered, running a hand down over your face and smudging the lipstick Dina had convinced you into letting her apply before you went out tonight.

That was probably the reason. When you had let slip to Dina that you had a date, the girl had been so excited that she was practically shaking. She had persuaded you into letting her help you get ready, so that’s all there was to it. You were making her happy.

Still, the headache wasn’t easing, so you took another drink. 

And another. 

And another.

With a groan, you turned onto your side. Your vision was starting to get a bit blurry if you moved too fast, but you were still coherent enough to think back on how stupid you had probably looked tonight.

It’s not like you hadn’t expected the…audience, for lack of a better word. In fact, you think that in the back of your mind, you had been counting on it. 

When you had told Joel about the date, there had been a hint of…something. A look you hadn’t seen in his eyes before, glinting behind his careful, cold exterior. A crack in the armor. A chip in the walls between you.

Some part of you knew that deep down, you had wanted him to see you like that. Even if you would never admit it to anybody, least of all yourself, you had wanted to see that crack grow, to take another chip at that wall. To see what may be hidden behind the stoic calculation in his dark eyes, to hear an undertone in his words, loud and clear.

You wanted his reaction, his…

His what? You think to yourself with a self-deprecating scoff. Jealousy?

God, it was stupid. So fucking stupid. 

What would he have done? Would Joel have stormed over and pulled you away? Would he have taken you home with him instead of another man?

Did you want him to?

You shook your head sharply, clearing the question from your head before you could panic over a subconscious answer. It didn’t matter now. Clearly he didn’t do any of those things.

And now here you were, looking amazing and getting drunk on your sofa.

Alone.

Your eyes landed on the familiar framed drawing on the fireplace mantle across from you, and you let out a quieter, more somber sigh as you gazed at it.

Eventually, you push yourself up, rubbing your face again as you mutter to the drawing, “You’d be proud, Little Star. Got all dolled up tonight.”

Reaching down to rub at a callous that had begun to form on your heel from the shoe strap, you grew even quieter as you mumbled to yourself now, “Didn’t do me much good, though.”

You were about to flop back onto the couch and probably drink until you passed out when a sharp knock sounded, and you shot up in an instant.

“What in the—”

You began to mumble to yourself as you glanced towards the front door, when another knock cut you off, and you realized it was coming from behind you. Stumbling to your feet, you took a moment to steady yourself, placing the decanter on the coffee table before heading to your kitchen, towards the back door where the knocking was originating from.

The window on it was covered by habit from receiving your nighttime visitor, and your heart thudded against your chest, hand shaking as you reached out for the handle. You took a deep breath, composing yourself enough to fall into your usual armor of confidence wrapped in a barbed wire of snarky cynicism as you swung the door open.

If you were a more sentimental person, you would’ve sworn your heart stopped when you saw him standing there.

But you weren’t, so you didn’t. Still, you froze, eyes widened as you glanced over Joel. He leaned heavily against your doorway, his hair a mess and a light flush dusted across his cheeks.

You were sure you were imagining that last detail, so you blinked rapidly, expecting your vision to clear so you’d see the regular stoic-faced Joel standing in front of you.

When you refocused on him, you realized that he was still as stoic-faced as ever. If anything, he was actually glaring at you right now.

But that slight pink to his cheeks was still there.

“You gonna invite me in, or stare at me all night?”

You snapped out of whatever stupor you had fallen into with a scoff at his blunt rudeness. Your eyes narrowed into a glare, stepping to the side and gesturing dramatically for him to enter.

“After you, Mr. Miller,” you drawled sarcastically, watching him stiffen considerably at your words before stepping into your kitchen, and you let the door close behind him.

You turned to watch him as he paced further into the kitchen, keeping his back to you as his hands clenched and flexed at his side. Your head tilts, gaze dragging over his tense shoulders as you realize that he almost seemed…restless? Certainly not an emotion you had seen from the calm and collected Joel Miller before.

“There a reason why—”

“What the fuck were you doing?”

Joel’s voice interrupted your question, his tone revealing irritation, and your eyebrows raised in surprise as you rolled back onto your heels at the sound of it.

“Excuse me?” you asked, your voice betraying your own growing irritation as Joel walked further into the room.  

Why the fuck was he so prickly tonight?

Despite your best intentions to keep your friendship as amiable as you could, the way he was speaking and the alcohol pumping through your veins was quickly dissolving your patience.

He rested his palms against your kitchen counter, still facing away from you. It annoyed you further, the way he wouldn’t look you in the eye.

“Your little show tonight.” His tone was almost biting with the accusation, and you bristled at the word choice, leaning forward now as your annoyance quickly turned into anger.

“Excuse me?” you repeated the same question, your voice lower, conveying that he was venturing into dangerous territory. 

You had thought your voice was warning enough, but he didn’t stop.

Because it was Joel Miller, of fucking course he didn’t stop once he had set his mind on something.

Stubborn old man, you think to yourself as you can see the muscles in his arms flexing with the sleeves of his flannel pushed up, and you hated the desire that it caused to surge through you just at the sight of his carefully contained strength.

“You know what I mean,” he muttered, his large hands curling around the edge of the counter. 

Your nostrils flared at his persistence as you took a step towards him.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t, Joel,” you snapped, speaking his name with contempt, and you felt a sick form of pleasure as his shoulders tensed further at the venom in your voice.

You were getting him as riled up as he was making you.

Good.

“My show?” you repeated his word choice, your voice rising as your anger continued to simmer, each word you spoke feeling like you were nearing a boiling point as you walked closer to him. “What the actual fuck, Joel? You knew about it. I told you what was happening. So please explain to me exactly what my show entailed—”

You placed a hand on his shoulder once you got close enough, and apparently that was Joel’s breaking point.

He whipped around, his hand flying up to catch your wrist, the action cutting you off in the middle of your sentence. With a few large, steady steps forward, Joel pushed you against the wall of your kitchen, your back hitting it as he glared down at you.

His hand lifted to pin your wrist that was still in his grip above your head, his glare not wavering as he met your stubborn gaze with his own.

“Your show was this,” Joel snapped, his other hand wrapping around your knee, pulling it up so the skirt fell back to expose more of your skin. “Wearing this slutty little skirt and flashing that coy smile at another man, like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes widening as you stared up into Joel’s intense gaze.

“Another—”

“Acting like you wanted him,” Joel continued as if he hadn’t heard you begin to speak, his voice lowering to almost a snarl, his chest almost brushing against yours with each heavy breath he took. “Walking out of there with his hand on your back, like he could take you home. Like he could fuck you and leave you satisfied.”

Your breathing became heavy with each word he spoke, a familiar desire coiling in your stomach, but there was something else growing. Another heat, a different intensity unfurling between you, and you couldn’t help but lean into it even as you met his glare with your own.

“And this,” Joel breathed out, hooking your leg around his waist before he reached his hand up to grip your chin.

His thumb flicked across your lower lip, and your breath hitched.

Those familiar brown eyes—a color that had become almost comforting at times—were blazing as he looked down at the lipstick that had smudged onto his calloused thumb.

“What were you planning to do?” he murmured, his voice heated as he tilted your chin up, looking down into your eyes.

Your heart was pounding in your chest now, the anger melting from your bones as you began to lean into his touch. Anticipation somehow made you both tense and relaxed at the same time, eyelids fluttering as his rough thumb brushed across your lips once more, his breath fanning across your face.

When you smelled the alcohol on it, you froze.

“You’re drunk,” you muttered, trying to shatter the moment with your words, but you still struggled under the weight of it as he didn’t pull away.

Instead, Joel watched the way his thumb almost slipped into your mouth as you spoke, his own lips parting as he murmured, “So are you.”

A soft breath escaped you. 

The words were so similar to those you had exchanged months ago, before you started down this road together. But now you had switched places—you were accusing him this time, warning him—and the situation felt so strangely unfamiliar, so different from the dynamic between you so far that it made your mind spin.

Still, you found enough sense to shake your head, even as the next words slipped from Joel’s lips as a taunt, “Were you planning to wrap these pretty lips around his cock?”

You slapped Joel’s hand off of your chin with your free hand, your other one still pinned in his grip against the wall above your head. Your glare returned with full-force as you snapped angrily up at him, “Fuck you, Joel.”

“I’m trying to get you to,” he groaned, moving his hand that you had slapped back to your leg that was still wrapped around his waist, snaking it over your knee and up your exposed thigh.

Your breath stuttered again, even as your glare didn’t waver.

His eyes didn’t meet yours, though; they remained fixed on your lips, which parted again as you hissed, “You’ll regret it in the morning.”

Finally, his eyes flashed back up to meet yours again, that new intensity simmering between you. He didn’t ask what you meant, but apparently he understood as he murmured, “Why do you care?”

You marveled at the familiarity of the question, the simple question taking you back to the first time you had met him, that winter day when you had placed a hand on his shoulder as he leaned against a streetlight.

Who are you to care?

His voice had been colder, so much colder then. He didn’t know you.

Did he even know you now?

Does the kindness of a stranger mean nothing to you?

You heard your own voice reply to his in your mind, reeling at how much had changed since then.

Was that all you were to each other? All you had ever been?

Just two strangers who met each other in the night, again and again?

But then why is he looking at you like that now?

Shaking your head, you wondered if he really understood what you were trying to say, your heart pounding against your chest. 

You also wondered if you even wanted him to understand.

“I want you to still be able to look at me when the night’s over,” you exhaled heavily with the words, the confession taking all your breath with it, and Joel froze.

His gaze flickered back and forth between your eyes, as if he was trying to read you, trying to find something that you weren’t saying.

After a moment of being frozen like that, Joel exhaled, pulling his head back so your faces weren’t merely inches apart, even as his hand remained wrapped around your thigh.

“Just let me fuck you,” he whispered hoarsely, a shiver going through your body as you saw the desperation in his eyes. It was a pure, raw need you had never seen from Joel before. But you held onto that stubbornness, right up until he added in a groan, “please.”

Then you broke.

Words failed you in that moment, so you only nodded, and that was all the permission he needed before he dropped your wrist from his grip, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you fully against him as his lips descended on your neck.

You moaned, tilting your head back as he pressed heated, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, teeth scraping and tongue swirling against your skin. His hips rolled forward against yours, his erection pressing right against the fabric of your panties that had grown damp during your argument, a betrayal of how much you had wanted him to do just this.

“Fuck,” Joel grunted, continuing to grind against you as he bit down on your neck. You gasped, hands flying up to grab at his shoulders as he bucked against you. “I fucking knew you wanted this. I knew you wanted me.”

A whine left your lips at what the words could also mean, what was left carefully unsaid, as he rutted against you. 

Joel’s lips moved up your neck to press along your jawline, and you gasped as your nails dug into his shoulders through his lightweight flannel, earning another grunt from him as he bucked his hips against yours again.

“You—” you gasped, losing your ability to speak momentarily as he slipped a hand under your skirt, pressing his fingers against the damp fabric of your panties so he could really tell just how wet you had gotten. He rubs his fingers over your covered clit, and you moan again before finding the words you had wanted to say, “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Joel muttered, his lips finding your ear as he hissed against it, “but that’s your type, isn’t it?”

You moaned again as his hand slipped over your thigh to your ass, giving it a hard smack before he pulled you off of the wall when he took a step back.

His hands moved down to unbutton his jeans, his eyes still on your askew skirt as he murmured, “Were you going to let him into your bed? Let him fuck you in it?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, watching as he slowly unzipped his pants, and you found yourself nodding at the question.

“Yes,” you whispered, even though you couldn’t remember if that was true or not. You couldn’t think about anything other than this moment, couldn’t see anything past the way Joel was looking at you, with a need more fervent than any you had ever seen from him before. “I was.”

Joel actually groaned, his gaze darkening with intent as he spoke in a low tone, “Show me.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, only understanding what he meant when he gestured towards the back of your house by jerking his chin towards it.

“Show me where you were going to let him fuck you,” he clarified, and your eyes widened when you finally understood his intention.

In retrospect, you should have stopped it there. You could have stayed in the kitchen, or even moved into the living room to fuck.

But there was a new look in his eyes, an emotion that almost looked like passion, and you were helpless to turn that look away as you began to back up towards the hallway that led to your bedroom.

You turned your back to him as you continued down the hallway, your heartbeat accelerating with hot anticipation. Your hands moved down to the hemline of your skirt, starting to shimmy it off to tease him, when his words stopped you.

“Don’t take it off,” he said in a low, commanding tone. “I’m going to fuck you with that slutty little skirt on.”

You bit your lip as the words made your pussy throb, your hand raising to push open the door to your room when you reached it.

The light was off, but you didn’t move to turn it on, and neither did he. You moved in the dark, walking the familiar path to your bed with Joel on your heels, not even bothering to close the door behind you.

You wondered if he was trying to look around your room, but when you turned back to face him, his eyes were fixed solely on you. He watched as you sat on the edge of the bed, crawling backwards on the mattress in a way that made your skirt hitch up, and Joel’s breath audibly caught in his throat before he climbed on the bed after you.

He hovered over you as your head fell back against the pillows, and you found yourself marveling at how different this felt—so much more comfortable, so much more space to move—before his hands slid up your thighs under the skirt to brush against your panties.

Joel stopped, his fingers brushing along the lace edges of the panties, and you swear you saw his gaze flash dangerously in the dark as he stared down at you.

“You wore lace?” he groaned, his fingers curling around your thighs tight enough to bruise and, god, you hoped it did, as he leaned down closer to your face. “Really?”

You shrugged, a smirk growing on your lips as you watched his jealousy grow with sick satisfaction.

“I—”

You broke off, your eyes widening as the thought repeated in your mind, and you finally realized what this was, what Joel was acting off of.

Jealousy.

He was jealous.

This was what you had wanted—for whatever sinful, godforsaken reason—and it was actually happening

Apparently, Joel didn’t even catch that you were about to say something, instead busying himself with the task of pulling your panties down. The black, lacy fabric rolled down your legs, and he groaned at the sight of it brushing along your skin before he pulled it off completely.

“What, no ripping this time?” you found yourself teasing, your humor a deflection from the weight of what you had just realized, eyebrow arching in question before his next action made your eyes widen.

Joel balled the damp fabric up in his fist, pushing it into the pocket of his jeans, the bastard watching you with clear satisfaction as your hips lifted towards him subconsciously at the sight.

“Joel—”

“I should punish you, you know,” he murmured lowly, and you bit your lip, a pleasurable shiver running through you at the connotation behind the words as he began to push his jeans down his thighs. “For what you put me through tonight.”

You laughed breathlessly, brows lifting in surprise as you repeated, “What I put you through?”

Joel paused his movements, placing his hands on the mattress and leaning forward so his lips were beside your ear, his breath fanning against it as he murmured, “Do you have any idea how it felt? Seeing you from across the room, helpless to do anything but watch you smile and laugh so fucking easily at another man’s jokes?”

Your breathing became heavy, eyelids fluttering as that term—another man—appeared again.

There was the same jealousy in his words, yes, but something else; that new intense heat, and you placed your hand on Joel’s chest, fingers curling around the buttons of his flannel as you whispered breathlessly, “Joel—”

“Fucking hell—”

You paused as Joel cut you off with murmured curses, blinking out of your haze to look down, and you had to hold back a laugh as you saw Joel was struggling to get his jeans off, having forgotten in the haze of his drunken lust that his boots were still on.

“Shut up,” Joel muttered, sending a glare back at you as he had to roll off of you, pushing himself up to lean over and tug the laces on his boots until they were loose enough to pull off.

But you were already laughing, your cheeks hurting from the smile that your giggles pulled from you as his boots fell to the floor beside your bed, his jeans soon following.

“Stop it,” Joel muttered, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes, but a small smile was flickering on his own face as your amusement doubled at his exasperation.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between gasps for breath, wiping at a stray tear that was falling from your eye. “It just kinda ruined your whole dominant thing for a moment.”

Joel continued to glare at you, even with that small smile growing on his face as a few giggles continued to slip past your lips.

“Shut up,” he groaned again, pushing his boxers off to fall on the floor next, and the sight of his fully erect cock being freed from the fabric did effectively shut you up.

“Get on all fours,” he said roughly as he pushed himself up, and your skin heated further at the realization of how he planned to take you before you rolled onto your stomach.

You placed your palms against the sheets, pushing yourself up onto your hands and knees, listening with satisfaction as Joel groaned at the sight. The mattress shifted under his weight as he moved behind you, his hands pushing your skirt up until you were fully exposed, and this time he moaned, the sound long and shameless, just from seeing you like that.

At the unabashed sound of his desire, you bit your lip so hard you nearly drew blood, but you didn’t care at that moment. You were too focused on the way his hands slid over your hips, moving up to your ass to squeeze it before sliding back down to spread your thighs further apart.

Your hands reached up to grab onto the headboard as you felt Joel swipe his dick along your folds, collecting your wetness and making you moan with the sensation.

“That’s right,” Joel murmured, clearly pleased by your sounds of pleasure as he guided himself along your folds again, pushing past them so he rested against your entrance. “You’re going to be moaning my name tonight, darling. Not his. Mine.”

Maybe you would have said something clever in response to that, if it wasn’t for the way that Joel slammed into you without warning, all the way up to the hilt and making you cry out with the sudden fullness.

There was a bit of pain with the thrust, yes, and your grip tightened on the headboard as you focused on breathing through it. Joel didn’t move yet, instead leaning over you, his lips finding your ear as he whispered in a surprisingly soft voice, “You alright?”

Your breath caught at the intimacy of the question, something in your chest squeezing at the surprising comfort of it. You took another moment to breathe, waiting for your cunt to adjust to the size of him before nodding.

“Yeah,” you murmured, licking your lips as you nodded again. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Joel waited for another moment, his lips brushing against your ear in such a gentle way that it made you shiver, before he began to move.

His thrusts were slow at first, almost languid, and you moaned quietly at the feeling of his cock rolling in and out of you. Head tilted back, you began to roll your hips back to meet his thrusts, and Joel moaned, his hand sliding up your back until he grabbed your hair.

He wrapped it around his fist to pull your head back as he began to thrust harder, his other hand grabbing your hip underneath your skirt to hold you in place. Your room was quickly filled with the sound of your bed frame rocking against the wall along with skin slapping against skin, the scent of sweat and sex thick in the air as Joel fucked you with a desperation, a feverish need that you had never experienced from him before.

You were moaning as he picked up the pace, lips parting with heavy pants as he leaned down, biting on your neck hard enough to draw another cry of pleasure from you.

“Say my name, darling,” he murmured after sucking on the mark he must have left on you. Joel’s hand tightened around your hair, pulling your head back further as his lips moved back to your ear. “My name. Mine.”

“Joel,” you gasped, your eyes falling shut as he bucked into you. A groan of satisfaction rumbled from his chest at the sound, and you continued to moan his name with each thrust, spurring him on to pick up the speed even more.

“Good girl,” he groaned, and you whined from the praise, panting heavily as he began to mumble almost to himself, “That’s right, mine. Mine. Mine.”

You could feel the shift in the meaning behind that word as he began to chant it. You could feel the possessiveness in the way he gripped your hip tighter, pulling you back to meet every hard thrust, and you whined loudly at the thought of it.

Being his.

“Oh god, Joel,” you whimpered, rolling your hips faster, searching for friction that you desperately needed against your clit to get you climbing towards your high. “I need—”

Joel’s hand slipped from your hair, your head falling forward suddenly as he dropped it, and you nearly cried out again just from the pleasure of his fingers finally finding your clit. He knew exactly what you meant, exactly what you needed, expertly playing with you in a way only he knew how.

“Fuck, yes,” you gasped, losing any coherence as your back began to arch, the combination of his hard, steady thrusts with his fingers rubbing quickly against your clit hardly leaving you any time to breathe before your orgasm.

You couldn’t remember what had happened in that moment for the life of you, but you think you might have screamed when you reached your climax. Hell, you might have even screamed his name, but there was no way to know as you were helpless to do anything but ride the intense waves of pleasure as they rolled through you.

Your entire body trembled as you leaned heavily on your arms, trying desperately to keep yourself up as you felt Joel grab your hips, pulling you back to meet his thrusts as they became unsteady, and a tired smile grew on your face as you knew exactly what it meant.

“Joel—”

“Mine,” he interrupted you in a hoarse gasp, and whatever teasing words you were going to say died on your lips as he suddenly grabbed you, pulling you up so your back was pressed against his chest, his lips pressed to your ear as he groaned, “You’re mine.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, your mouth falling open as you found yourself at a loss for how to respond, but you didn’t have to.

A moment later, Joel grunted loudly as he pulled out, his release coating your inner thighs. You stayed in his tight grip, pressed back against his chest as it rose and fell with heavy breaths that you could hear clearly from where his mouth was still pressed against your ear.

When his grip finally loosened on you, you slumped forward, collapsing onto your bed in the quivering mess that he had made you. Joel leaned forward, catching himself on his hand before falling onto his back next to you. He continued to try to catch his breath, and you did the same from where you turned to lay on your back.

You stared up at the ceiling, and even though it looked the same as always, it felt different.

This felt different.

Joel shifted beside you, and you half-expected him to be getting up to leave when you looked over at him. And, hell, maybe he was, but he froze the moment your gaze landed on the side of his face.

You let your eyes trail down his side profile for a moment, over his strong brow and the sharp slope of his nose, before you looked back up at his eyes, even as he stared stubbornly at the ceiling.

“What, no urge to run off into the night, cowboy?” you tried to tease, wincing when you felt how hoarse your throat was.

Jesus, how loud had you been?

“Do you want me to?”

Your attention was brought back to the man lying beside you at the words he drawled, your brow furrowing as you glanced over his face again. He was still staring at the ceiling, but when you remained silent, he finally turned his face slightly to glance down and catch your gaze.

Joel’s eyes searched yours, looking for an answer that you didn’t have.

When you offered none with your words either, and the two of you remained quietly lying next to each other for a moment, Joel pushed himself to the edge of the bed with a sigh. You watched his back as he leaned over to grab his boxers before you turned back to gaze at the ceiling again, so that you didn’t have to watch him as he got redressed.

Your chest tightened as you told yourself that you shouldn’t have let this happen. You shouldn’t have let him convince you to move into the bedroom. 

This was a mistake.

Fucking hell, you had even stopped him from ki—

You closed your eyes, trying to block the world out as you heard the bed creak when he stood back up.

This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. You didn’t want him to run out into the night again, like this was a crime. Like he did something wrong.

Like you were wrong.

After he left the room, you turned onto your side, facing away from the spot that he had left.

I want you to still be able to look at me when the night’s over.

Your own words taunted you cruelly within the dark confines of your mind, and you took a deep breath in, trying to calm the emotions that started to rage inside your frame—begging to be freed, begging to be felt, for once.

The only thing that pulled you out of internally chastising yourself was the brush of rough fingers against your shoulder, and you looked back over that shoulder in surprise to see Joel staring down at you.

“Why the face?” Joel asked, his brow raised as he glanced over the poorly concealed shock on your face from the realization that he was still there. “What, you really thought I was running off?”

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, trying and failing to find a response. Eventually you settled on your old, familiar crutch of dry humor. 

“Well, you do have a bit of a track record.”

Joel snorted quietly, but he couldn’t argue with your point. Instead, he patted you gently on the leg and murmured, “Come on, turn over.”

A confused frown spread across your face, but you did as he asked, turning over to face him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Only when he lifted his hand did you finally notice the damp washcloth in it, and your breath caught in your throat as the warmth of the rag touched your thigh.

You stayed silent as Joel began to clean your legs. He kept focused on his task, as diligent as the time you had watched him clean blood and grime off your skin. You kept your gaze on his face, flickering over it as you tried to catch a glimpse into what he was thinking in that closed-off mind of his.

“Why did—”

“I don’t—”

You both stop abruptly as you had begun to speak at the same time, looking at each other in faint surprise before a laugh slips past your lips. It was almost a gentle sound, unlike any laughter you had had in a long time—if you ever did have laughter that sounded like that—and the furrow between Joel’s brow smoothed out at the sound of it.

He quickly looked back between your legs, finishing his task of diligently cleaning you up before he pulled the cloth away with a quiet huff. 

“I don’t…” Joel tried to start again, rubbing a hand over the side of his face as he appeared to struggle to find the words. A rare sight from him, and you slowly sat up as you watched him finally find them, “I don’t know what came over me. I—”

He stopped again, moving his hand over his eyes to rub at them, and you chuckled quietly.

“You were drunk and horny,” you try to dismiss with a wave of your hand.

Of course, you didn’t know why exactly he had gotten drunk—even though you started to have a theory—but you decided not to pry.

In fact, you were trying to do the opposite of prying. You were trying to give him another out, an easy excuse to leave now and not look back.

Why did you always do that?

But when Joel finally looked back at you again, a look of determination in his eyes that you had grown to recognize from the man, you realized he wasn’t taking it again.

Why did he always do that?

“I just wanted to…” he trailed off, shifting awkwardly before finishing quietly, “...apologize, I guess.”

Your eyebrows shot up at that as surprise flooded you at the apology, quickly followed by confusion.

“Apologize for what?” you asked, shifting slightly so you were leaning closer, trying to catch his eye when he looked away again. “Joel, we do stuff like this all the time. It’s a kink. It’s hot. It’s not a big deal.”

While it was a kink, and it was hot, the possessiveness definitely was not something you did all the time.

And, in a way, that was a big deal. It dealt a blow to this strange relationship you had, shaking the foundation in a way nothing else had before.

This was new territory you were in. The grounds your relationship was on had shifted yet again. 

You went on a date. Joel got jealous. 

You had sex unlike any you had had before, in your bed.

It was the second rule you had broken in just under a week. The first rule of ‘only at night’ was broken when he had fingerfucked you that early morning a few days ago, and you didn’t even know what to make of that.

And now there was this. A blatant violation of your third, and arguably most important, rule.

Glancing over the way Joel’s face was scrunched up in thought right now, you guessed he didn’t know either.

But he wasn’t running away like he always did. 

Neither were you.

And that…that meant something, somehow.

“It’s just…” Joel sighed, rubbing a hand along his thigh, and you looked at the scars on his knuckles that had begun to heal over again after he had rescued you. “You’re not a possession. Or a slut. You never were, even when we started…all this. And I—”

“Joel,” you interrupted with another laugh. It wasn’t a cruel laugh, but rather one of surprise, drawn out of you without a choice as you glanced over his face, realizing that it wasn’t scrunched up because he was just in thought.

It was because he was nervous.

Something in your heart warmed at the sight, and you quickly glanced down to fix your skirt so that you were completely covered up. You didn’t care if Joel saw you exposed like that—he’d seen it plenty of times before—but you were feeling almost…vulnerable in that moment, and you wanted to get rid of that unfamiliar emotion as quickly as you could.

“I know that,” you found yourself saying in a voice softer than you had known yourself capable of. Your face was still downcast, gaze fixed on your skirt as your fingers played with the hem. “I mean, I know you know that. It’s not—”

You sighed, brushing a hand through your hair, pulling away from the strands in mounting frustration as your fingers got caught in the tangles Joel had caused from grabbing it.

“It’s not a big deal,” you finally repeated quietly, twisting your hands in your lap, avoiding Joel’s gaze as you finally felt it focus on you.

For one moment, you were both silent in the darkness of your bedroom, Joel watching you as you avoided his gaze.

“That’s the third time you’ve said that.”

Joel’s quiet remark pierced the stillness, his words finally pulling your face up to glance at him in surprise. He wasn't just talking about tonight—he was referring to the moment you hadn't dared to talk about, when you had treated his injuries.

“Is it true?” he murmurs the question, his dark eyes fixed on yours. 

The brown depth of his gaze was shining in the moonlight that filtered through the cracks in your curtains, and your breath caught in your throat.

Different answers, different excuses, began to race through your mind. You tried to settle on a reply, but none felt right. None of them felt enough like the truth or a convincing enough lie.

So eventually, your mouth opens to admit in a hushed tone, “I don’t know.”

Joel’s gaze searched yours, but for what, you didn’t know. When he glanced away, you wondered if he had found it, or if he had given up trying.

“I don’t know either,” he replied just as quietly after a moment of you wondering, and your heart thumped in your chest loudly before your gaze darted away from him.

While you remained quiet, your mind was racing so quickly you almost felt dizzy with the thoughts rampaging through it. Most of them were incoherent, a mashup of many colorful curse words directed towards both him and yourself.

When you felt the heat on your face, you lifted up your hand, pressing the back of it to your cheek to feel the warmth there. You rubbed at it subtly, trying to get the blush to go away, even as you knew you were probably just making it worse.

Clearing your throat, you turned back to say something to Joel, to try and brush it all under the rug like you usually did. But you found yourself at a loss for words, your heart leaping into your throat as you saw he had already been looking at you.

You swore in your mind again, mortified that he may have been watching you the whole time during your inner panic.

“Can we just—” you stop with a sigh, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation before trying to find the words again, “can we just move on from this? Like—”

You cut yourself off again, shifting on the bed, arms crossing over your chest as you avoided his gaze.

“Like nothing ever happened?”

You turn back at his offer, relieved that he had found the words that had escaped you. A sigh of relief escapes you, and you nod, even as your arms tightened across your chest.

Even as a part of you wanted him to say no.

Joel opened his mouth, then closed it.

“I can swear at you, if you like,” you finally found your snark again, leaning heavily into the defense mechanism as you let a smirk cross onto your face. “We can have a huge argument, watch it all blow up in our faces. That would make it easier, wouldn’t it—”

The words died in your throat, your breath leaving you in a surprised rush as Joel reached out to you. 

He brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek—gently, more gentle than you would have ever expected him capable of, at least with you—before he tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know,” Joel murmured again.

His thumb brushed against your cheek, against the scar that lay there, your heart skipping a beat at the feeling. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes searching yours, his gaze almost…uncertain.

For a moment, you wondered if he was going to do something…more. You didn’t know what, exactly, but it caused your heart to thump in your chest as your gaze locked with his.

Joel's hand twitched, his rough, large palm grazing against your cheek, as if he was going to lay it there.

Then he pulled back before it could happen.

The silence that fell was not as tense or awkward as those that had fallen between you before.

But it was something different.

Fragile, you realized silently as Joel shifted, his eyes still locked with yours—still as wide, still as haunted by things unspoken.

It was fragile.

When you finally looked away from him, you did it slowly, as if not to shatter this delicate moment you had both found yourself in. You cleared your throat gently, grabbing the fabric of your skirt tightly as you searched for what to say now.

What the fuck could you say now?

“I, uh…” Joel cleared his throat, shifting to face away from you. “I guess I should go.”

You swallowed thickly, ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind that began to chant a single word quietly in response.

But it wasn’t a thought you could acknowledge consciously—at least, not yet—so you found yourself nodding instead.

“Yeah,” you murmured, unclenching your fist to smooth out your skirt in your lap. “Yeah, probably.”

Still, Joel paused for a moment, almost as if he was waiting for something. 

Waiting for you to say something.

But you didn’t, and so he leaned over to grab his boots from where he had discarded them, pulling them back on before slowly rising to his feet. 

Your eyes flashed to him as he walked away, his back to you as you watched him exit the room.

You listened closely to his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

You brushed your fingers across your cheek, tracing the movement his own fingers had made as you heard him sigh in the kitchen before the back door quietly closed behind him.

Finally, you collapsed against your pillows, staring back up at the ceiling the same way you had before.

But again, it was different.

So different.

Your fingers danced over your cheek again, eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself believe that maybe you hadn’t both fucked it up for good this time.

[henwilsonmd]

post 6x18: some out-of-order vignettes | ao3

4251 words

“Buck,” said Eddie, trying to school his face into something less fond and amused. “That’s my couch.”

Buck turned from where he’d been happily showing off the new piece of furniture he’d gotten with Natalia the day prior. “What?”

“The couch,” Eddie repeated, with a quirk of his eyebrow. “You bought my exact couch.”

“No,” Buck replied with a shake of his head. “No, it’s definitely different.”

read on ao3

Eddie looked at it—a three-seater in dark blue, velvet-y fabric with square corners and deep seats to accommodate his long legs. They’d picked out some nice white decorative pillows for it, and it’s certainly brand-new looking, but—

“It’s totally the same.” Eddie gave up on hiding his smile.

Buck looked back to the couch, tilting his head to scrutinize it. After a moment, he sighed, planting his hands on his hips. “Ah, fuck. It’s totally the same.”

Eddie groaned, letting his head thump back onto the edge of the cot behind him. “The pain meds are definitely kicking in.”

“Well, good,” snarked Buck from a chair next to him, attention half-focused on his phone in his hands. “That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

Eddie sighed, long-suffering. “You too?”

“Yes, Eddie, me too.” Buck replied, thumbs flying as he tapped out something on the screen in his hands. Probably to Maddie. Probably about Chim. Who was probably okay. “Your ribs are fucking broken.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, staring at the ceiling. “And I know what they feel like. I’m fine, there was—other stuff going on.” He thought about that paramedic from the 133 shining a penlight into Hen’s eyes, frowning like he didn’t like the results and going back in to do it again. He thought about the constant jitter of Buck’s leg next to him, the constant worry for Bobby and Chimney who’d taken the other two ambulances before the three of them had managed to squeeze into another cab. “Besides,” Eddie pulled himself back on track. “Did you even get checked out?” He leveled Buck with a look that he hoped had more energy behind it than he had left.

Buck shrugged, powering off his phone with a click. “I’m fine.”

“There’s blood all over your face,” Eddie pointed out.

“Hen cleaned most of it up already.”

“There was more?”

“That’s—Eddie, I’m fine,” Buck said, turning towards him. “I scraped up my cheek and bit my tongue when I fell, and, sure, I’ll be a little bruised, but I’m fine.”

“You lost consciousness,” Eddie pointed out, and he swallowed around a dry throat.

“How… how did you know that?” Buck stuttered in reply.

Eddie gave his own shrug, picking at the edge of the right kneepad on his turnout pants. “I didn’t pass out. I radioed right after I’d gotten my bearings, but no one answered. Then, like, thirty seconds later you must have woken up.”

Buck, for a moment, held Eddie’s gaze with something so unbelievably devastated, and guilty—like the thought of not being able to answer Eddie’s call was the worst possible thing that had happened that day. Then he flicked his eyes down to the floor. “Okay, s-so, like, thirty seconds. I’m fine, Eddie. Really.”

Eddie frowned, thinking about those thirty seconds—an unbearable weight on his back, a growing pain in his chest, and the clawing panic as he listened to the silence stretching out on the other side of the radio and fought the mounting urge to plead, I’m still alive, please, I’m still alive down here.

And then how he’d breathed a hugely painful sigh of relief when Buck finally asked for a headcount, how he’d fumbled into his pocket for his St. Christopher medal and prayed—something he hadn’t done since that awful week of the coma. Prayed that he’d come home safe to his son, but also that Buck would be careful—that he wouldn’t do something stupid and destructive and reckless to save any of them.

That heady rush of gratitude when Buck had sawed the doors open, taking off his safety goggles and assessing Eddie’s situation with a calculating, heavy gaze.

Next to him, Buck cleared his throat, shifting in the chair. “Anyway, you broke three ribs, man. Let the meds do their job.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, leaning back into the pillows behind him. “Trust me, they are.”

Eddie sipped his Diet Coke, beer off-limits because he was still taking the Tylenol threes. “So, you finally got a new couch.”

“I had a couch before,” Buck pointed out, a matching soda in his hand for solidarity. “Kameron just—y’know, gave birth all over it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, snorting a soft laugh. “That must have been wild.”

Buck chuckled. “The baby didn’t want to wait, I guess.”

“Impatient little guy,” Eddie said. “Must be those Buckley genes.”

“Hey,” Buck protested, pointing a finger. “I can be plenty patient.”

“Sure,” Eddie agreed placatingly, but be noticed how there seemed to be something more behind the mirth in Buck’s eyes—the plastic pieces at the edges of his smile. He fought the urge to say I told you so—mostly because it would have been childish, but also because Buck hadn’t asked for his opinion at any step of the way, and Eddie hadn’t offered.

Eddie decided to wait him out—usually the best course of action when it came to Buck. Eddie understood intimately how much time it could take to parse through a mess of feelings in your brain and formulate them into words that would make sense to another person. Usually, Eddie would sit quietly and sip his beer while watching Buck’s feelings play out on his unguarded face, and after a minute or two Buck would haltingly begin to explain what had been going on with him.

Eddie had tried to explain that to Maddie when they’d both been nearly sick with worry over Buck’s post-coma mental state. “He’ll come to you when he’s ready,” Eddie had said over the phone. “You can’t force him to talk about it.”

“Eddie, you don’t know him like I do,” Maddie had protested. “He shouldn’t be alone right now.”

And Eddie had opened his mouth to say no, actually, I know him better than you, I know him better than anyone, but—that’s not true, is it? Why would Eddie know Buck better than his own sister, who’s spent the entire thirty years of his life caring for him, when Eddie’s only had him for—what, five years? Then subtract all the things they didn’t talk to each other about and all the issues they’ve had, and—yeah, who is Eddie to say what’s best for Buck?

And then Buck had knocked on his door and passed out on his couch and Eddie had felt righteously vindicated in a way that he almost wanted to rub in Maddie’s face, which was kind of bitchy of him to think.

So, Buck sipped his soda next to Eddie on his new couch, a storm of emotions clear on his face, and Eddie waited him out because that’s what he does.

Buck let out a sigh, and Eddie thought, here it is, he’ll let me in, and then— “Want to watch the Dodgers game?”

Eddie blinked. “Um, sure.”

And Buck turned on the TV.

Doubt roiled in Eddie’s gut.

“What about Hen?” Eddie asked, Buck’s hand tight on his arm as he helped him into the passenger seat of the Jeep.

“Karen already took her home, she’s fine,” Buck replied easily, before he shut the door and rounded the front of the car.

He’d left when Eddie had been taken back for x-rays, taking an Uber back to the station to pick up his car so he could come back to get Eddie and drive them both home. Eddie absently wondered when he would get a chance to get his truck from the station parking lot.

Buck hopped into the driver’s seat, fitting his keys in the ignition but pausing before turning the engine. He fixed Eddie with a gentle, reassuring look. “Seriously, man, everyone’s fine. Athena’s with Bobby, Maddie’s with Chim, let’s go home.”

Eddie swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about just how close literally every single one of them except Ravi had come to something far more serious than some hospital bills and time off work.

His gaze slid to Buck, who flashed him that small, soft, close-mouthed smile that Eddie rarely saw—the one that made his chest feel warm and gooey.

“Okay. Let’s go home.”

The Dodgers were losing, and Buck wasn’t talking about it. Eddie tried not to either of those things get to him.

During a commercial break, Buck got up to throw their empty pizza boxes away, waving Eddie off as he moved to help.

When he came back into the living room, he paused under the overhang of the loft, just staring at Eddie.

“What?” he asked, a bit self-conscious.

Buck huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bought your couch.”

Eddie snorted. “Don’t worry about it, man. It’s flattering. You think I have good taste.”

Buck raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if that’s it. Half the furniture in your house is from Target.”

Eddie sputtered. “I—what’s wrong with Target furniture?”

Buck, lowering himself back onto the cushions next to Eddie, raised his hands in a show of innocence. “Nothing, man. I just—I don’t know if I would call it good taste.”

Having no comeback, Eddie just whacked him in the shoulder.

Buck laughed, playfully pushing his hand away. “Hey, c’mon, don’t start shit when I can’t retaliate.”

Eddie smirked. “Why? ‘Cause you know you can’t take me?”

“No,” Buck denied. “’Cause your ribs are still fucking broken.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Buck.”

“Well.” Buck crossed his arms, turning back to the TV as the next inning started. “Forgive me for wanting to be careful.”

For a moment, Eddie considered saying hey, maybe we should talk about how I could’ve almost died again? But Buck clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about the big things, and Eddie didn’t really want to think about that yet either, so he settled for bumping their shoulders together.

Buck leaned right back into him, and neither of them moved apart—the comforting warmth of the contact buzzing in Eddie’s brain like the alcohol he wasn’t drinking.

Eddie smiled down at his hands. “You like my couch,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck groused, slouching into the cushions as they watched a batter swing and miss yet again. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Are you sure you’re both alright?” Carla asked, a worried hand hovering over his elbow. “I caught some of the collapse on the news.”

Eddie flashed her a smile before turning to pour two glasses of water—one for him and one for Buck, who was off in Christopher’s room. “We’re okay,” he said. “A little banged up, but the doctors said I should be back to work in six weeks or less.”

Carla narrowed her eyes. “You better take that full six weeks.”

Eddie set the Brita down and met her gaze. “I’m fine, Carla. Really.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “I just—I worry about you, Eddie. Okay? I know you’d rather I didn’t, but I can’t help it.”

Eddie ducked his head and smiled, a bit, filled with that familiar half-disbelief that people really do care about him. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but—I was lucky today. That nothing worse happened, that—that Buck was there to pull me out.”

Carla scoffed. “Of course he was. I don’t think luck had anything to do with that one.”

Eddie tried to fight the blush off his cheeks—he didn’t know what to do with that. Carla’s surety that Buck would save him come hell or high water. His own surety that Buck would be ripping open the doors of that camper van any second now.

When she realized he wasn’t going to say anything, Carla cleared her throat. “I should go. You up for a hug?”

“From you?” Eddie responded easily. “Always.”

Carla pulled him into a gentle-but-still-desperate embrace. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair.” With a frown, she brought a hand up to ruffle the wilting mess on Eddie’s head. “Your dusty-ass hair. Take a shower, alright?”

Eddie laughed. “Alright, alright.”

“It’s a little early for a welcome back party, don’t you think?” Eddie said as Athena hugged him in greeting, Christopher heading off in search of the other kids.

“You and Bobby are headed back tomorrow,” Athena pointed out.

“Yeah, and Chimney’s not back for another two weeks.”

“And you best believe I’ll throw another party for him.”

Eddie laughed, before venturing further into the house to greet everyone else. His ribs had healed perfectly, barely a twinge when he’d thrown himself onto the couch in triumph yesterday. Which—speaking of, Eddie’s phone was burning a hole in his pocket and he was doing a very good job of ignoring that.

Or, he was, until a lull in conversation found him standing alone in the kitchen and pulling it out of his jeans. No texts. Which—of course, they’d agreed to go for coffee after his shift on Friday, why would she text him before that—but, still. Eddie was nervous. Sue him.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment while he debates if it’s too much of a desperate move to text Marisol before they even go on a date. Christopher would know.

“Who are you texting?” asked a voice, and Eddie fumbled to turn off his phone and shove it in his pocket before someone could see… what?

He looked up to see Buck smiling at his antics, a beer in hand.

“Oh, it’s you,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the counter.

Buck sidled over to join him, staring out the windows at the backyard where the party was in full swing. “Just me. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie replied, for some reason hoping desperately that Buck wouldn’t ask him about—

“So,” Buck nudged an elbow into his arm. “Who were you texting?”

—fuck. Eddie wasn’t sure why this felt like something he didn’t want to tell Buck, to whom he tells everything, but… they don’t really talk about their girlfriends? It was always, always awkward, and it always left him with a sour taste in his mouth.

But, Eddie’s excited about this. Marisol probably won’t be the one, or whatever, but—still. Eddie was excited that his brain was finally in a place where he could think about opening up his life to someone and it wouldn’t send him into a panic attack that landed him in the ER.

And Buck asked.

And Eddie’s not in the habit of saying no to him.

“Um,” he started. “Do you remember Marisol? From the—”

“—yeah, yeah!” Buck cut him off. “So, you were texting her?” He raised his eyebrows, a knowing glint in his gaze.

Eddie blushed. “Yeah, uh… we’re going on a date?” he said quietly, a pit of dread or something similar opening in his gut.

Buck was quiet for a moment, and Eddie risked a glance at his face. He just caught the edge of something shocked and maybe fearful in his expression before it cleared and was replaced by one of those huge, sunny smiles.

“Eddie!” Buck exclaimed. “That’s great! Oh my god, man, this is awesome,” he enthused, slinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and squeezing him close.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, still unsure why part of him felt sick with guilt.

“Hey, ever notice how we always start dating at the same time?”

“No, do we?” Eddie lied, thinking about how he’d agonized over making the call and kept telling himself Buck’s with Natalia now, you should do this.

Buck laughed again, before he jolted with surprise and turned to Eddie, excitedly slapping him on the arm. “Dude! We can go on double dates now!”

Eddie frowned. “We didn’t last time.”

Buck shrugged. “Well, you didn’t like Taylor, so I figured—”

“I liked Taylor,” Eddie protested.

Buck snorted. “Uh, no, you didn’t.”

Eddie tilted his head in a you-got-me face. “I kind of didn’t. I thought you didn’t notice.”

Buck dropped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders again, making Eddie huff out a breath. “Oh, Edmundo, I always notice.”

No you don’t, Eddie thought, and then he ignored that.

“But,” Buck continued, a hesitation in his voice. “You—you like Natalia, right?”

Eddie didn’t really know her at all, except for how excited she’d been about Buck’s death-that-didn’t-stick and how angry that had made him. “Yeah,” Eddie lied again. “She’s good for you. And she has good taste in couches.”

Buck laughed, relieved. “Good. So—we’ll do a double date, yeah? Me, you, Natalia, Marisol.”

Fuck, no. Eddie thought. That sounds awful.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie said instead. “That sounds great.”

Eddie was in the kitchen, pre-heating the oven to heat up some frozen chicken tenders because he didn’t have the energy to cook anything else when he felt little arms wrap gently around his midsection. It hurt his ribs, but Eddie didn’t have the heart to dislodge his son—not when these hugs were becoming rarer and rarer each day.

“Hey, kid,” Eddie said, turning in the hold and dropping a hand onto Christopher’s head. “What’s up?”

Eddie had already seen him, when he popped his head into Christopher’s room to find him sitting with Buck, a careful hand brushing the wounds on the man’s cheek. The sight had made something massive and unknowable bloom inside Eddie’s broken chest, threatening to choke him. He’d tamped it down and hugged Chris hello before heading off to shower, but apparently that hadn’t been enough.

Chris looked up, propping his chin on Eddie’s sternum. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, a tightness in his voice betraying him.

Eddie smiled. “Me too.” Even though it sparked the ache in his side into a bona-fide pain, Eddie leaned over to drop a kiss onto Christopher’s head—something he barely tolerates anymore. “Hey, the doctors said I’d be good as new in six weeks. Think you can deal with having me around all the time for that long?”

Chris laughed, bright and happy, and Eddie’s heart sang. “I’ll try,” he joked, and then something clouded passed over his face. “Buck’s okay, too, right? His face is bloody.”

“Oh, buddy,” Eddie sighed. Usually, he would kneel down to meet Christopher’s gaze, but he settled for easing himself into a chair and ignoring the concerned look Chris was giving him. “Buck’s totally fine, he just got scraped up a little bit. And today was pretty—pretty scary. For both of us.” He swallowed down the urge to berate himself for telling his kid he was scared, and it seemed to be the right move, because Chris nodded along with wide, careful eyes.

Eddie sighed again, settling his hands on his son’s shoulders. “But—tell you what. Buck’s gonna stay with us tonight, and he’s pretty bad at taking care of himself, right?” Chris giggled at that, and Eddie smiled in response. “So you and I are gonna have to be sneaky about taking care of him tonight, okay?”

Eddie expected Chris to give another sweet smile, and maybe to offer some comfort so earnest and childlike in its innocence that it made everything in the world feel right again, so he wasn’t quite sure to do when Chris burst out into loud, raucous laughter.

“Okay, what’s so funny?” he said, playing at being annoyed.

“It’s just,” Chris managed through his massive smile. “That’s exactly what Buck said. About you!”

Eddie just blinked in response, and Chris fell into peals of laughter again. “Okay,” Eddie said with mock-offense. “Okay, I see how it is. Gang up on the injured guy, why don’t you.”

“Da-ad,” Chris whined, fixing him with a very grown-up look. “We just care about you.”

Eddie pursed his lips, that unknown emotion threatening to drown him again. “Yeah,” he said, more choked-up than he would like. “I know.”

A small hand covered his, and Eddie flipped his own over to give it a squeeze. “Why don’t you go put on the next episode of María, okay? We’ll translate for Buck.”

Chris smirked. “You mean you’ll translate for Buck.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, kid,” Eddie offered as Chris disappeared into the living room.

And later, when they were all piled on the couch, Christopher giggling at Eddie’s half-assed translations and Buck protesting that he understands more Spanish than you think, guys, the newest dose of pain meds forced upon him by Buck making his head more than a bit fuzzy, Eddie thought to himself: I wish it could be like this forever.

Buck shouted in exaggerated outrage to make Chris laugh, gesturing at some ridiculous plot point playing out on the screen, and Eddie let that huge wave of feeling bowl him over—that world-ending, all-consuming love.

Just this. Forever.

“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Hen said, a hand raised to keep Eddie quiet. “He has this whole thing about his girlfriends being couches, and the couch he finally bought is your couch?”

Feeling somehow embarrassed, Eddie just nodded. Hen shared a smirk with Chimney, sitting on the lawn chair that Maddie hadn’t let him move from for the entire party.

“That’s like—almost romantic,” Chimney snorted.

“What?” Eddie said.

“He’s been looking for the perfect couch, but it was yours all along!” Chim crowed, and Hen dissolved into giggles. She was definitely more than a little drunk.

“It’s so sweet, Eddie, come on,” she needled.

“Well, sure, but—” Eddie sputtered. “—romantic? Come on, guys.”

“No, you—you come on.” Hen said around a hiccup. “You guys are—Buck and Eddie! Eddie and Buck!”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied with a frown. “And you guys are Hen and Chim.”

“Nah, no, no, no,” Chim said with a wagging finger. “It’s not the same.”

“How is it not the same?” Eddie threw his hands in the air, one hampered by the half-full bottle in his hand. “You guys are partners, just like us.”

“Yeah, but,” Hen said. “You guys are partners,” she explained, trying for some hand gesture that must have gotten lost in the all the alcohol and rush of the party because she just ended up clasping her hands together awkwardly.

“You guys are crazy,” Eddie said with a long-suffering shake of his head.

“And you’re crazy about Buck,” Hen said in an it’s-so-obvious whisper.

Eddie drew back. “What?”

“Hen—” Chimney started, a hand on her arm.

She shook him off. “No, I gotta—Eddie, you and Buck are like, perfect for each other. You love him, right?” Her eyes were wide and earnest behind her glasses.

“Of course I do,” Eddie said automatically.

Hen gestured emphatically, whacking Chim on the shoulder like this proved her point.

“Hen,” Eddie said gently. “Did you forget that I’m straight?”

Hen scowled, like she did not want to be reminded of this fact. “Okay, but like—if Buck was a girl, you would have asked him out by now. You’d be like—fucking married by now.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but found his mind stuck on Hen’s words. If Buck was a girl. Him and Buck, married. Eddie felt far drunker than he should be off just one and a half beers.

“Eddie, ignore her,” Chim cut in.

Hen frowned. “I’m going to find Karen,” she declared.

Eddie watched her retreating form, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “He’s my best friend,” he said belatedly.

“Eddie.” Chimney kicked his leg. “Ignore her, okay? She’s drunk.”

“Yeah, but—” Eddie started.

“Look,” Chim sighed. “We joke about you and Buck sometimes, okay?”

“You do?” Eddie asked.

“Little stuff,” Chimney assured. “Just, like, you’re each other’s favorite person and you’re missing what’s right in front of you, or whatever.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, to refute—what?—but Chim continued.

“But they’re just jokes, okay? We know you’re both straight. I mean, it’d be great if you weren’t, or whatever, but that’s not the world we live in.”

Eddie’s jaw closed with a click. He sipped his beer.

“He’s your best friend.” Eddie looked back to Chimney. “And that’s—” He seemed to search Eddie’s face for a moment. “That’s enough, right?”

Eddie swallows. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Exactly,” Chim agreed with an easy smile. “So, don’t worry about it, okay? She’s just drunk and forgot that we don’t make those jokes in front of you guys.”

Eddie nodded. “Right. Besides, Buck has a girlfriend, and—I have a date on Friday, so…”

“You have a date on Friday?” Chimney exclaimed. “That’s great!”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, voice flat.

Chimney clapped him on the forearm, unable to reach his shoulder from his sitting position. “Look, man, you’ll find that perfect girl-version of Buck out there, okay? I believe.”

Eddie chuckled. “Sure.”

He looked out to the party—his eyes immediately found Buck, head thrown back in laughter at something Athena had said. The string lights of the backyard made his styled curls shine with a honey-colored fire, his fingers curled carelessly around the neck of a beer bottle made Eddie’s mouth feel suddenly dry.

Just this. Just you, Eddie thought.

“You’re right,” he said to Chimney with a hollow smile. “I’ll find someone.”

[minghaoslatina]

12:31 am ✰ JONGHO

now playing 🎧 goodnight n go by ariana grande

You and Jongho just finished watching a movie, and as usual, you find that you both don't want to say goodbye just yet. You suggest heading to a nearby convenience store to grab some snacks and drinks. As you browse the aisles, you notice Jongho grabbing multiple bags of Haribo gummy bears, and you can't help but tease him about it.

"For someone who claims to hate sugar, you sure look like you need it," you joke, causing him to chuckle.

Jongho then playfully points out your addiction to strawberry milk, and you both laugh. You decide to grab two small cartons of strawberry milk, and Jongho pays for the snacks and drinks.

As you walk out of the store, you can't help but feel grateful for these little moments with Jongho, even if it means sacrificing a bit of sleep.

As the night continues, you and Jongho continue to chat and snack while walking towards your college dorm. You can sense that the time has come to say goodnight, as you have an early class and Jongho has an early schedule. You both stand facing each other in front of your dorm with bittersweet smiles.

"I hate this part," you say, taking Jongho's hand. He brings your hand closer to him and gently kisses the back of it.

"I'll be completely free next week," Jongho reminds you, handing you a bag of gummy bears to keep. You nod in agreement, "Okay, text me when you get home, please."

Jongho nods his head, and you can see a hint of reluctance in his eyes. "Goodnight, handsome," you tease, knowing his face always gets red whenever you use an endearing nickname.

"Goodnight," Jongho shyly replies, looking away with a grin. You both stay rooted to your spots, not ready to see each other leave, even if it's only for a few days.

Suddenly, the door to your dorm opens, revealing your best friend. "Say goodnight and go, love birds," she teases and drags you inside. You both repeat "goodnight" to one another as Jongho slowly walks backward, not wanting to leave just yet. The moment is filled with a sense of longing and a desire to stay together just a little longer.

You find yourself standing at the door, watching Jongho walk away. As he turns to leave, you wave goodbye, your heart overflowing with love. Your best friend notices the lovestruck expression on your face and grins knowingly. You feel a rush of emotions as you slowly close the door and lean against it. You can't help but recall all the sweet moments you have shared with Jongho, from the first time you met to the most recent conversation you had.

As Jongho walks back to his dorm, he gazes up at the starry sky, lost in his thoughts of you. The sound of your sweet voice echoes in his mind, and he can't help but smile as he remembers the sound of your laughter. The memory of your touch lingers on his skin, and he longs to be with you again.

In the quiet of the night, both of you whisper the words you have held back for so long, "I love you." The words feel weightless and heavy at the same time, and you can't wait to say them out loud to each other.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

a/n 💌

jongho has been bias wrecking me so bad since coachella, so I had to write this!! 🤭 I hope it was okay 🫶🏼 I’m about to post my short seonghwa fic <3

[frvnkcastles]

WATCH THE DAYS PASS ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Stuck in a depressive episode, you can’t get out of bed and Frank is right there to cuddle you through it.

Warnings: Depression, brief mention of suicide ideation, hurt/comfort, cuddles <3

Word count: 849

Author’s note: I’m back! I’ve been feeling really guilty for not posting for a few weeks and the reason why I haven’t is exactly what I wrote about here,, I’m just depressed and trying my best to stay alive instead of throwing in the towel. Could realllllly use some Frank cuddles rn. I promise to try and get to your requests soon! <3

A sigh escaped your mouth as you rolled onto your right side and felt the mattress flex under your movements. Through the crack in the curtains you had kept closed all day, you could see the sun was beginning to descend and welcome night into the city, and an ember of guilt for having spent the whole day in bed burned in the pit of your stomach.

You held yourself to the highest standard when it came to being a functioning part of society. It was even easier to be hard on yourself when you shared a life with the Punisher — while your boyfriend was out getting justice for innocent people, cleaning up the streets of the worst scum imaginable, you were doing what exactly? Laying in bed, neglecting the work that had been piling up on you all week, not to even mention seeing friends, taking a shower or eating. You couldn’t even bring yourself to do that.

In fact, you couldn’t even cry about it. The urge made you choke, but the tears wouldn’t come. You were both overwhelmed and numb all at once and it was a terrible, rotten feeling that you wished would leave you alone with all the little might you had left in you.

”Hey”, Frank’s gruff voice emerged from the doorway, and lifting your disheveled head from the pillows, you looked over to where your beloved was standing and tried to give him a smile. It was far from convincing, but he still mirrored the expression and stepped closer to the bed. ”Okay if I lay down with you, sweetheart?”

As soon as you had nodded, Frank was moving over to his side of the bed, with the mattress taking a dip as he gently laid down next to you. He opened his arms wide for you and you didn’t hesitate to crawl up against him, your head on his chest as he wrapped you in a warm embrace and left a kiss on the top of your head.

You were both silent for a while, but eventually, you spoke up in a meek tone. ”Thank you”, you squeaked, and with a quiet tut, Frank disagreed with your words.

”Don’t gotta thank me, sweet girl. ’M just here to do what I can”, he spoke with a gravelly promise, and squeezing him tighter, you nodded. ”You’ll lemme know if there’s anythin’ you need, yeah?” Frank added, and repeating your nod, you tilted your head so you could kiss his jawline.

”Just cuddles for now, please”, you whispered, and with a low chuckle, Frank ran his hand up and down your arm.

”Think I can do that.”

Peace and quiet ensued again, and you nearly dozed off in Frank’s arms while he drew gentle patterns on your skin, his calloused fingertips feeling like home. For a brief, fleeting moment, you didn’t want to die, you didn’t feel like you were being consumed by the darkness. He, as ironic as it was, was your guiding light and something to hold onto on your toughest days.

”You told me once… yeah, you, uh… you told me you feel guilty when you have a rough day”, Frank piped up eventually, and swallowing at the accurate statement, you waited for him to continue. ”I need ya to know that it’s bullshit. Not that you feel that way, it’s… it’s real, I know. But the part where you think you’re doin’ somethin’ wrong. You hear me? You’re doin’ what you can and there ain’t a single thing wrong with that”, he explained, his usual stern tone mixed with genuine affection and care for you. He may have sounded almost angry, but you knew he wasn’t. He was just… passionate. Yes, about you.

”A part of me knows that. And another, bigger part thinks I’m the worst person in the world for—for not showering, for not cooking, for not doing more”, you sighed. You knew that if there was anyone you could talk to about how you really felt, it was Frank. He never judged, but always made you feel safe and understood.

”Hey, listen to me. You’re survivin’. That’s what matters. Whatever it takes to make it through the day, that’s the most important thing you could be doin'”, he reminded, his voice gruff and low in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. ”Sometimes you gotta take it day by day. Sometimes minute by minute. Whatever it takes, got that? You’re fuckin’ brave. And strong. I adore the hell out of you”, Frank went on, and you tried so damn hard not to cry. He may not have been a big talker most of the time, but when he was, he knew exactly what to say.

”I adore you”, you murmured in return, and chuckling, Frank left a kiss on your temple.

”And ’m one lucky asshole for that”, he rumbled. ”Maybe tomorrow will be better, yeah? For now… just be with me, huh?”

You nodded and lifted his hand up to your mouth so you could kiss his knuckles. ”I would love nothing more.”

[yesimilkdamilkman]

···➯ 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰.

⋆.˚ ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐗 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞; Art credits to @purplemys. Also, very proud of myself to be the first to post Francis Angst🤗🤗. I made this because one of my moots thought it was okay to tell me she wanted to write Francis cheating on us, so blame her. Also got help from another moot, with some of this!! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠.

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; You both just wanted to get home, but only one of you did.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠; ANGST, ANGST AND MORE ANGST. Major Character Death, murder, and gore, established relationship.

04.19.24 | 𝟔𝟐𝟖 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

✂〰〰〰〰〰

"You got your papers ready?" You asked Francis, knowing he usually forgets to have them ready, "mm.. I do." Slim finger rubbing up and down on your shoulder while the other held the umbrella you two shared. You were holding his milk carrier that was filled with empty Jars. You both picked up the paste, wanted to get back home before the storm got any worse, or a doppelganger wanted you both as its dinner.

Your building had finally come into your and Francis' line of view. You heard him let out a relifed sigh, as he squeeze your shoulder and kiss your cheek.

You both turn your head to the road, as a bottle rolls down the street, with blood on it. Your heart dropped instantly as you whipped your head, looking down the street, and saw it.

Ms.Laker, you know knew her it, but that wasn't her. It tried to mimic her, but the face was thinning and drooping like ice cream on a hot summer day. It was staring at you and Francis, like a predator that watches its prey.

"Go," you heard him but, you didn't hear him. "Go, Run now!" He repeated himself, dropping the umbrella while pushing you back. And Just as you and Francis took off, you heard a screech. Coming from the creature, as it began to chase you both.

But, with you and heels and Francis being a smoker. It wasn't, long before it had caught up to you both. You felt something called cold and slimy wrap around your ankle, dragging you back. The milk carrier dropped, while the bottles rolled elsewhere.

"Francis!"

Snapping his neck to look back he saw you, and that thing dragging you away. He knew that you both weren't getting out of this.

He grabbed one of the empty jars and launched at whatever was wrapped around your ankle, splitting it in 2 giving you enough time to kick off your heels and run to the building. You and Francis made eye contact but he only nodded at you. You kept running, trusting that he would catch up to you and call the D.D.D. to clean up this mess.

The thing screeched, before redirecting its attention at Francis . Francis grabbed another bottle close to him, charging at it. It pulled back an arm, while Francis raised the bottle in his hand.

Francis came in arms reach with it, as it did with it. It swiped at Francis' stomach as he rammed the bottle into its head; killing it.

You heard wails, one sounded human and one didn't, you turned around, looking in horror as that thing lay down on the ground with a bottle in its head. And Francis stood there for a few seconds, before falling onto the crimson concrete. You had watched him, wrap his arms around his stomach as his inside fell out, like slime pouring over a counter.

Letting out a scream, before turning on the balls of your feet and rushing toward Francis. Lifting his upper body into your arm weeping, as the realization set in that; he was dying. You didn't, couldn't say anything. All you did was cry; mourning at the loss of your fiance. He lifted his arm covered in his own blood, caressing your cheek, trying to say anything but he couldn't, choking on his own fluids as he stared at you in fear. But dropping his arm, and his body relaxed.

Serins, were becoming louder, it was the D.D.D. Someone must've seen and called but it was too late. Sitting in the middle of the blooded street with the love of your life, limp in your arms. Covered in his blood, you cried as you held onto the man, that you knew.

Taglist: @madeofsoil, @theclownster, @megan016, @lunaria1, @betterthanyalls, @crystical33, @cosypinky2, @h4ngingbyathread, @jojikawa, @Colorfulgardenerducky, @vvivvan, @write-tama, @jojikawa, @punster888, @prettygirlelieli, @ittaly, @a-frickin-simp, @seabreeze1969, @seegrooseegroo, @itsmeskysky, @angryflowerwitch, @finnickodaddy @sweet-lil-trufflaA, @aockskcwUntitled, @shhinigamiiingaaz, @velvet334, @crystical33, @mochi46106

[kittyball23]

Hey, Kittyball23,

I was wondering if you could post part 2 of "Taking the News"? Though, I am waiting patiently for it to post, and I gave you time to write the fanfiction I was hoping that you will post it whenever you're finished.

After you post it, can you write another fanfiction of the very SPECIAL DAY when Poppy and Branch's baby was BORN?! (Or maybe include a baby shower scene and a BIG CELEBRATION of their FIRST NEWBORN CHILD?!?! 🥰😁🥳🎉👶🎉) If so, I would be very grateful. ☺️ (Don't forget to include their friends and families as well.) If not, that's okay. I understand you have like a few other requests from others for Trolls fanfiction stories. But, I gave you plenty of time you needed.

Thank you. Sincerely, Ceci-Butterfly 🦋

Part 2 👇

Taking the News - Branch Edition (a Trolls fanfic)

Branch scrunched his nose, considering the fact that there were a number of better things to be doing than willingly being in the presence of a vomiting individual.

But, when that said individual was Poppy, he put aside the feelings of distaste as best he could and focused on making sure none of the rainbow-colored, glittery substance got onto her hair.

He held back the pink strands delicately away from her face and grimaced more than a few times at the combination of her retching, and just how much she had heaved.

While it had felt like forever, Poppy finally was able to get herself under control, and sat back with an exhausted sigh. Branch eyed her with a raised brow, and the Pop Queen felt sheepish upon the question that he presented.

“So… the stomach bug is all gone, huh?”

She fiddled with her fingers and looked down. “Um, well…” A nervous titter came out, and then she gave up. “Oops.”

Branch sighed. “It's not ‘oops,’ Poppy. If you were still sick, you could've told me. It hardly takes anything for me to go get you something to treat it. Dr. Moonbloom has plenty of supplies!”

“I know, Branch,” she said meekly, “I just didn't want you to worry…”

“You don't want me to worry?” he repeated incredulously. “Well, now I am. If this thing's not gone by now, it could be something serious!”

But to his surprise, Poppy was not as overly concerned as he would've figured. As a matter of fact, she got shy, and spoke her next words bashfully. “It's, um, not as serious as you might think…” Poppy almost wanted to laugh at the deadpanned expression he donned in that next second, but she knew better than to do so. He was clearly under the worst impressions of her health. Which meant it was finally time to come clean. “Look, Branch, there's something I have to tell you about… or, um, I guess I should say someone.”

Branch crossed his arms. “Okay, what exactly are you talking about, Poppy? What do you mean ‘someone’?”

“Oh, you know,” she said, attempting to sound matter-of-fact, “someone teeny and weeny, and cute as heck… assuming he or she comes out looking like you.”

Wait… what? Branch blinked, his brain making the connections it had to make in order to fully comprehend the situation and its full truth. The unexpected vomiting, the shyness in Poppy’s voice, the mentions of a mysterious ‘someone’ by themselves didn’t quite make as much sense as they did when he considered them all together. And, to add further confirmation for what he was coming to conclude, she slowly lifted a hand and allowed it to rest on her belly, her gaze shifting down at it first before it met his.

“Branch,” she whispered softly, “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I guess I just wasn't sure how, but, uh... I'm... um..."

"Pregnant," he finished, the tone in his voice mystified. 

Poppy nodded. "Yeah."

Silence settled between them for what seemed like an eternity as Branch processed this. He supposed it made sense, with how, er… active he and Poppy had been in the more intimate aspects of their relationship. But still, the idea of becoming a father was rather jarring; one that left him wondering if he was ready for that kind of responsibility and commitment that he never figured would be in the cards for him in the first place! And yet...

I'm going to be a dad... 

His gaze softened, and without thinking he reached out a hand toward her belly, where it still lay quite flat. He lightly brushed his fingertips over the slight swell that was there, the Troll marveling at the fact that it would one day be the very life that they'd created, running around singing songs like his (or her!) mother or crazily preparing like his (or her!) father. A perfect product, a wondrous blend between him and her that could only result from something as strong as their love. It almost felt surreal, like a dream. Like he'd suddenly been thrust into a completely new reality in which things went beyond what he thought possible, in the best way possible.

A soft sound escaped him, akin to a breathy chuckle, and his eyes glistened with moisture.  The hand withdrew from Poppy's stomach to rest on top of hers instead, as a smile - growing increasingly wider upon his lips - pulled at his cheeks. "Poppy, I-" He cut himself off abruptly, unsure exactly WHAT he could say in this circumstance that could voice everything he felt at the moment. How excited he was, how proud, how honored he was for having been given the opportunity to experience such joy, and most importantly, how he loved her with every fiber of his being, even more than he could possibly go on to explain.  However, the only thing he could seem to articulate in a simple, and rather dumbfounded manner was…

“Poppy, you're PREGNANT!”

And, despite the telltale chime of their bracelets that was usually indicative of Hug Time not ringing, Branch swept Poppy in for an embrace, his arms wrapped snugly around her waist, careful not to press too firmly against the abdomen carrying their precious bundle. Poppy giggled joyfully and returned the hug with a great enthusiasm, the bubbly feeling within her heart overflowing and making itself known through laughter and tears, neither one being able to be kept in check. "Oh, Branch," she cooed, her voice sounding slightly choked with emotion, "this is just so.... so...."

He lifted his head from where he'd nuzzled it against the crook of her neck to give her smirk, blue eyes twinkling playfully. "Fantast-amazing?" he suggested.

The mention of her sister's favorite phrase made Poppy gasp. "Oh, Branch!" she said again, this time  with more urgency and excitement. "Viva! And John Dory, and Bruce, and Clay, and Floyd!" she spewed, each name tumbling out in a rush. "Oh my goodness, we should tell them!!"

Branch's face lit. "Yeah!" he was quick to agree, the elated mood that gripped him too much for him to contain.

"Uh-huh!" Poppy agreed. "But first - "

She interrupted herself, by grabbing him by the vest and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. Branch melted, obliging happily to her and relishing the sensation. For once he couldn't bring himself to fret over the sudden change in their lives, and all the worrying over the crazy preparations he would go on to make in order to ensure everything went absolutely flawless with their parenting. Branch simply enjoyed his moment of bliss as he let it flow through his entire being, letting him revel in the feeling of his and Poppy's euphoria.

Their family was going to get bigger, and he was beyond thrilled for what wonderful surprises lay ahead!