#reading that felt like a gut punch (in a good way)

[joelsrose]

Guns and Roses: Chapter 10

I KNOW I POSTED LAST NIGHT BUT I COULDN'T STOP MYSELF - HERE ENOYYY EEEEEEKKK

TW: VIOLENCE ANGST PUNCHING BRUISING

masterlist

“That guy’s a fucking asshole,” Caleb muttered as you walked in from dinner. You barely glanced his way, too emotionally drained to unpack the night’s events. The weight of it pressed down on you as you stood by the nightstand, brushing your hair in silent, rhythmic strokes, hoping the familiar motion might somehow clear the ache in your chest.

But even now, you could still feel the ghost of Joel’s hands on your face, his touch lingering as though he’d never really pulled away. He had been close—closer than you’d prepared for—and in that charged moment, you felt an undeniable pull, an ache that seemed to pulse through you, quietly urging him to close the distance. His lips, soft and pink, flashed in your mind like an oasis you hadn’t dared to reach, a forbidden place you’d denied yourself.

A wave of regret washed over you as you remembered the way he’d paused, held back, waiting for the smallest signal from you. You hadn’t given it, hadn’t let him know. And now, here in the quiet of this room, the memory of his nearness was all you had, and you couldn’t help but wish you’d crossed that line.

When you didn’t respond, Caleb lowered the book he’d been reading, placing it flat on his chest, his gaze heavy as he studied you through the mirror. The silence between you was thick, pressing down on you with an unspoken weight that made your hands falter as they brushed over your hair.

"Did you two ever…?" he asked finally, the question hanging in the air.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze for a moment before looking away. "No. We didn’t…never." The words were out quickly. You focused on your reflection, refusing to let your eyes drift back to his, hoping he wouldn’t see the flicker of hesitation that even you could feel deep down.

"Good." His reply was soft, almost a sigh, but it held a note of finality, a quiet relief he wanted to believe.

And it wasn’t a lie. You hadn’t crossed that line with Joel—not in the way Caleb feared. But there was something there, something you couldn’t name or give shape to, something that felt almost tangible in the way it filled every moment you shared with him. It was more than physical; it was a pull, a quiet force that you’d been holding back from fully understanding.

The memory of Joel’s expression tonight crept into your mind—how he’d looked at you with that pained intensity as you told him it was too late, that you were marrying Caleb. You’d said it with such conviction, surprising even yourself. The words had sounded so solid, so sure. But beneath that certainty was a war raging, a clash between the promise you’d made and the longing you still felt, a pull rooted so deeply in your gut it left an ache.

And now, in the stillness of this room, with Caleb’s expectant silence pressing against you, you wondered if that ache would ever truly fade—or if it was something you’d carry, a quiet, constant reminder of the path you hadn’t taken.

It wasn’t fair to Caleb. Every time he reached for your hand or pressed his lips to yours, you felt a pang of guilt, knowing he deserved someone who loved him without reservations, without ghosts lingering in her mind.

He deserved someone who wouldn’t drift away in thought at the feel of his hand, someone who didn’t close her eyes and wonder what it might be like if it were someone else.

You could feel the warmth of his affection, the weight of his love, and yet here you were, holding pieces of yourself back, leaving parts of your heart that he would never reach.

As you slipped into bed, Caleb broke the silence again, his voice hesitant but with a hint of determination. “I was thinking…maybe we could bring the wedding forward. Why wait?” His eyes searched yours, hopeful, trying to find some reflection of his own certainty. But you kept your gaze on the ceiling, your mind somewhere distant.

A part of you wanted to say yes—not out of some sweeping, undeniable love, but out of a quiet desperation for stability, a need to root yourself in something certain, someone who could finally drown out the constant hum of Joel in your mind.

You hoped that by making those vows, sealing your commitment in words as binding as they were final, you might stitch a clean line across the tangled feelings you held for him, quieting them to a faint, harmless echo.

But as the words hovered on the edge of your tongue, a knot of unease twisted deep in your gut, a silent protest rising within you, unyielding and impossible to ignore.

"…Let’s talk about it tomorrow. I’m tired." You rolled over onto your side, putting a small but needed distance between you.

“Alright. Goodnight,” he murmured softly, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder.

It should have felt comforting, grounding—something to pull you closer to the life you’d chosen.

But as he settled beside you, you lay there, eyes shut, wishing to feel something, anything at all.

•••

Days passed, and somehow it felt even worse knowing that Joel was somewhere in town, close but entirely out of reach. The weight of it settled in your chest—a hollow ache that you knew you had no right to feel. After all, you’d been the one to tell him it was too late, that you had chosen a different path.

But really, what choice had there been?

Life with Joel had always been a storm, unpredictable and wild, leaving you to gather the scattered pieces of yourself whenever he was gone.

As you moved through your days, running errands, keeping busy with mundane tasks—picking up supplies, stopping by the market, helping Maria with the garden—you found yourself glancing up each time you heard footsteps, your heart giving a hopeful leap before reason set in. Every time the doorbell chimed at the general store or someone rounded a corner on the main street, you’d scan their face, just in case it might be him. You told yourself it was foolish, that you shouldn’t expect him, but the habit was unbreakable.

Each disappointment left a quiet bruise. The truth was, you felt lost, untethered, like you were moving without a map. You were standing at a crossroads, one side offering you the safe, steady life you thought you wanted, and the other pulling you toward a need you barely understood, a pull so strong it scared the light right out of you.

Later that afternoon, as the sun dipped low, casting a warm, golden haze over everything it touched, the world seemed to glow in quiet reverence. Long shadows stretched across the ground, and the leaves caught the fading light, turning them into flickering embers of orange and red. It was a rare, perfect moment, as if the day itself was holding its breath.

“Hey, Ellie,” you called softly, spotting her standing at the edge of the porch. She stood with her gaze lowered, her shoulders tight, her usual spark dimmed and subdued. When she looked up, there was a heaviness in her eyes, a weight she carried with a quiet resilience that made your heart ache. You could see it—the struggle she didn’t want anyone else to notice, the weariness she’d tried so hard to hide.

"Did you want to come in?" you offered, gesturing toward the door.

She shook her head quickly. "No…out here’s fine."

You nodded, leaning against the railing, giving her space. She shifted on her feet, hands shoved deep in her pockets, a trace of hesitation flickering across her face.

"I wanted to…say sorry about dinner," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “That was really fucking stupid of me.”

You offered her a gentle smile. "Hey, don’t worry about it. Really."

But you could see the regret in her eyes, a silent apology lingering there. Without thinking, you opened your arms, and after a moment’s hesitation, she stepped forward, letting you pull her into a hug. Her arms wrapped around you tightly, and as she leaned into you, you felt her release a small, shuddering sigh, like she’d been holding her breath under the weight of everything she couldn’t say.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes met yours with an unusual intensity. "Has Joel…spoken to you?" she asked, her voice careful, like she was treading on fragile ground.

You nodded, averting your gaze, not quite sure where this was headed. "Yeah…we’ve spoken a little. Why?" Your tone came out a little guarded, betraying the unease stirring within you—you hadn’t expected her to bring him up.

Ellie hesitated, a look of vulnerability flickering in her eyes. "Did he…explain everything?"

You exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the admission settle over you. “Honestly? I was so angry, I didn’t really give him a chance to explain.” Running your fingers through your hair, you let out a weary sigh. “And…I’m not even sure it would change anything.”

She paused, her eyes searching your face, a flicker of disappointment shadowing her expression. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then hesitated, choosing her words carefully.

Finally, with a surprising gravity, she looked directly at you and asked, “Do you love him?”

"What?" you whispered, caught off guard.

“Do you love Joel?” she repeated, her gaze unwavering. “Because if you do, it matters.”

You were about to respond, ready to deflect, but Ellie didn’t give you the chance. In a quiet, deliberate motion, she rolled up her sleeve, revealing an unmistakable bite mark—jagged, the edges tinged with an unnatural red, yet somehow healed into a scar that seemed etched into her very soul. Your heart stopped, your breath caught as you stared at it, struggling to comprehend a reality you’d never imagined possible.

“I’m immune,” she said, her voice steady, though it carried an ache that had clearly weighed on her for a long time.

The world seemed to narrow to that bite, to the raw truth it held. Immune. The word echoed in your mind, almost too big to grasp, reshaping everything you thought you knew. That scar wasn’t just a mark—it was a revelation, a silent testament to survival against the impossible.

“I got bitten, years ago,” she began, her voice even and steady, each word carefully controlled, like she’d repeated this story to herself so many times that the shock of it had dulled, fading into a familiar ache. “And…I didn’t turn.” She paused, letting the weight of those words settle between you, their meaning unfathomable.

“Before we left, I was on patrol,” she continued, her gaze distant, focused somewhere beyond the room. “Those raiders—they knew about me. They were after me, after what I am. They want a cure, and to them, I’m the key. That’s why I had to leave Jackson, why I had to disappear.” She swallowed, a shadow flickering across her face. “They’d kill me to get what they wanted.”

She turned back to you, her eyes meeting yours with a quiet intensity. “Joel left because he was protecting me,” she said, her voice soft but unwavering. The words seemed to carry a depth of gratitude, pain, and loyalty that went beyond anything she’d ever let show before.

Her words sank into you like stones, heavy and undeniable, pulling you into the depths of everything she’d endured. For a brief moment, she looked scared, as if expecting you to recoil, to look at her with fear in your eyes. But all you could see was this girl—this brave, burdened girl who had lost so much and carried this unimaginable weight alone.

“Oh, Ellie…” you whispered, pulling her into a hug, holding her tightly, hoping it might lessen the weight she carried, even if just for a moment.

She mumbled against your shoulder, her voice muffled but tinged with her usual dry humor, “Are we just gonna hug all day?”

“Yes,” you replied softly, your arms wrapped around her. “Yes, we are.”

With Ellie against your chest, you found yourself lost in thought. Joel hadn’t abandoned you out of indifference; he had shouldered the enormous weight of keeping Ellie safe, protecting a secret that was far bigger than either of you. You thought about all he’d lost, the sacrifices he’d made, and the toll it had taken on him—the way it had hollowed him out, leaving a shell of the man you once knew.

A pang of guilt twisted within you, regret pooling in your chest as you realized how quickly you’d dismissed him, how you hadn’t given him the chance to bare his soul, to explain the truth he’d been carrying alone for so long.

Last night, he had practically begged for that chance, and you had turned away.

You pulled back, subtly brushing a tear from your eye, but Ellie noticed. She looked at you, her voice soft, gentle, as if she understood just how deep this conversation was cutting. “So…it’s not his fault. If you love him…please, don’t let this be the reason you don’t.”

A pang of guilt twisted in your chest, sharpening the ache that had already settled there. “Ellie, I…I spent a year thinking you two were dead. He could’ve left a note…anything.” The hurt slipped out, raw and honest, surprising even you.

Ellie snorted, a wry smile breaking through the tension. “Yeah, well, Joel’s a fucking idiot sometimes. But he’s your idiot, y’know? And if you feel even a tiny bit of what he does for you, then you’ve gotta let that Caleb guy go.”

You blinked, genuinely caught off guard. “Ellie!”

“I’m serious!” she threw her hands up in exasperation, her voice taking on that familiar blunt edge. “Jesus, I feel like a damn couples counselor here, but come on. Think about it. Really think about it.”

Her words lingered in the air as she turned to leave, cutting straight to the heart of your indecision, leaving you with no easy escape. You could only give her a silent nod, your mind louder than it had been in a long time.

•••

It was your birthday.

Once, this day had been filled with meaning—sun-soaked afternoons at the beach, laughter stretching into late nights, bouquets of flowers from a boyfriend who felt like he knew you better than anyone. Back then, it was a day to celebrate, a marker of joy. But now, it felt different, a quiet reminder of time passing, of things that had faded and slipped away.

You groaned as the blinds opened, spilling bright, uninvited light across the room, tugging you from the last, lingering fragments of a dream. Caleb leaned over, pressing soft kisses across your face, each one gentle and warm.

But somehow, the touch felt…misplaced, like an ill-fitting piece in a puzzle. Your mind betrayed you, drifting to thoughts of Joel—to the imagined sensation of his rough beard brushing against your cheek, the warmth of his presence unmistakable, something that lingered even in his absence.

"Good morning, baby. Happy birthday," Caleb murmured, his voice warm, affectionate, grounding.

You forced a smile, whispering, “Morning,” while your thoughts drifted somewhere else.

Caleb clapped his hands together, the sound bright and eager. "Alright! Get up, get dressed. I’ve got a surprise for you," he announced, his excitement almost childlike, lighting up the room.

You groaned, rolling your eyes playfully. “You know I hate surprises.”

But that was a lie, wasn’t it? You remembered the time Joel had taken you to the farm, how he’d planned every detail with an unexpected tenderness. And that other time he’d led you out under the vast night sky, revealing that he’d named a star after you, his shoulders brushing against yours.

The man had literally gifted you a piece of the heavens, and that memory burned brighter than anything else.

•••

You got dressed, brushing off Caleb’s playful protests as he tried to convince you to let him blindfold you. “Come on, just this once!” he begged, grinning as the two of you strolled side by side down the street. But you could already guess where he was leading you.

Maria’s house.

Sure enough, as you reached her porch, he made one final attempt. “Okay, let me put it on now, just so they think we walked the whole way like this.”

“Fine,” you relented, laughing as you let him tie the scarf over your eyes. His laughter mixed with yours as he guided you up the steps and inside.

The warmth of Maria’s house wrapped around you instantly, filled with the familiar scents of home-cooked food and fresh coffee. You could hear rustling, hushed whispers, and the occasional stifled giggle—a poor attempt at hiding what was clearly waiting for you. But it brought a genuine smile to your face, their clumsy enthusiasm both endearing and comforting.

“Alright, take it off now,” Caleb whispered, barely containing his excitement.

As he slipped the scarf from your eyes, a chorus of voices filled the room. “Surprise!”

You blinked, taken aback even though you’d guessed it. Around you stood everyone who mattered—Maria, Ellie, Tommy, each face smiling with warmth and sincerity. You took it all in, grateful for each of them. But as your eyes swept across the room, you felt a small, inexplicable pang in your chest.

Joel wasn’t there.

Of course he wouldn’t be. You’d been the one to end things, to say it was too late. He had no reason to show up, no reason to pretend it didn’t still hurt. And yet, the emptiness of his absence gnawed at you, a hollow ache you hadn’t expected, a vacancy that cast a subtle shadow over the gathering.

For a moment, you almost laughed at yourself, at how foolish it was to feel his absence so sharply amidst people who loved you.

Maria’s hug grounded you, pulling you back into the moment. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice a gentle warmth that seeped into your heart.

“Happy birthday, sunshine!” Tommy chimed in, his baby balanced on one hip, his grin wide and teasing. “You’re getting old!”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Not as old as you, Tommy.”

Ellie was next, bounding over with her usual mischievous smirk. “Happy birthday! Don’t worry, I didn’t get you anything lame,” she added, with a wink that drew a laugh from you.

You glanced around, noticing the mismatched wrapping paper on a small pile of gifts, streamers drooping from the ceiling, looking like they’d survived a few birthdays already.

Somehow, the makeshift charm of it all was perfect. “Guys…you didn’t have to do all this,” you said, a hint of emotion tightening your voice.

Tommy grinned, nodding at Caleb. “All your man’s idea. He wanted to make this one special.”

You looked over at Caleb, his face beaming with pride and affection. “Thank you,” you murmured, giving him a soft kiss, hoping the gesture might quiet the conflicted feelings bubbling up beneath the surface.

“Alright, enough of that,” Caleb said, clapping his hands with a grin. “Let’s get to the presents!” He gently steered you toward the center of the living room, where the small pile of gifts awaited, each one carrying a personal touch from those who cared about you.

You settled onto the floor, surrounded by colorful packages, each one wrapped with care. Caleb handed you the first gift, and you carefully peeled back the paper to reveal a beautifully scented candle—a blend of lavender and cedar, one of Lydia’s creations from her little workshop on the edge of Jackson.

“Oh, I love this! Who’s it from?” you asked, holding up the candle and breathing in the familiar scent.

“Uh-uh,” Tommy chimed in, grinning from the couch as he crossed his arms. “You gotta guess—makes it more fun.”

You smiled, glancing around the room, already having an idea. “Maria. She knows I’m obsessed with this scent.”

“Guilty,” Maria laughed, raising her hand with a playful shrug. “Thought it’d be perfect for you.”

Next, you picked up a small, oddly shaped package wrapped in newspaper with tape clumsily slapped on every edge. Inside was a mug, boldly painted with “#1 Old Person” in bright letters, complete with a cartoon of a grumpy face and a cane.

You raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh. “Let me guess…Ellie?”

Ellie groaned, crossing her arms. “What? I thought it was perfect!” she said, though her grin was unmistakable. “I mean, you’re getting up there, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, holding the mug up to show everyone. “This is…incredibly accurate. Thanks, Ellie,” you said, trying to look serious as you held back a smile.

Ellie shrugged, her smirk widening. “Just keeping you humble.”

Tommy’s gift came next, wrapped in an old flannel shirt and tied with a strip of leather. You unwrapped it to reveal a sturdy, worn pocketknife, the blade engraved with delicate etchings of mountains and pine trees, like the landscapes around Jackson. It had clearly seen its share of use but had been cleaned and polished until it gleamed.

“Thought you could use a reliable blade,” Tommy said with a grin, leaning back with that familiar glint of pride. “Got a lot of history in that one. Used to belong to one of the rangers around here, way back when.”

You turned it over in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the smoothness of the handle that felt perfectly worn to fit. It wasn’t just practical; it felt like a piece of the land, of all the paths you’d come to know.

“Thank you, Tommy,” you said, meeting his gaze. “It’s…perfect. Really.”

Soon, only two small packages remained beside you. You looked around, eyebrows raised, wondering who might’ve gone out of their way to get you two gifts. You picked up the first one, turning it over in your hands, curiosity prickling at you.

The package was wrapped with a care and precision that immediately drew your attention. It was covered in a soft, natural brown paper, the kind that felt textured under your fingertips, like it had been chosen intentionally. A delicate rope ribbon was tied around the top, carefully knotted and finished with a small, neat bow—a touch that made it feel personal, thoughtful, like someone had taken their time to make this moment feel special.

You slowly undid the ribbon, your fingers grazing over the rough twine as you pulled back the paper. Inside was a packet of rose seeds, their delicate promise of life and color held in each tiny seed. The simple, quiet beauty of it took you by surprise, and your heart swelled, a rush of unexpected joy flooding through you.

Seeds like this were rare, a near-impossible find. You’d managed to cultivate a few hardy plants in your garden, but roses—roses were a dream you’d given up on long ago. Caleb must have gone out of his way, venturing further on patrol, searching specifically for these, knowing how much they’d mean to you.

Without a second thought, you jumped up, wrapping your arms around him, the weight of the gesture sinking in.

In this moment, everything felt right—solid and certain, grounded in this small but powerful act of care. For the first time, you felt a sense of calm about your future with him, a glimmer of peace in the middle of all the chaos.

“Caleb, this is incredible—how did you even find these?” you asked, your voice filled with wonder.

But as you looked up at Caleb, a strange, pained expression crossed his face. His eyes flickered, a brief moment of something almost like discomfort, his smile fading as he seemed to brace himself.

He looked queasy, unsteady, as if something within him had just cracked. “Uh…that’s not from me,” he murmured, his voice sounding hollow, almost broken. He rubbed the back of his neck, unable to meet your gaze.

The words sank in slowly, and you felt yourself pull back, the warmth of the moment slipping away as confusion took its place. The room fell into a tense, awkward silence, a stillness that felt like it stretched forever. You glanced around, searching for answers in the faces around you, but all you found was the same look of surprise and discomfort reflected back at you.

Then, with a crushing inevitability, it hit you.

Joel. It was Joel.

The truth settled over you like a weight, dragging you down as the air seemed to still around you. The seeds—the rare, impossible seeds, the effort someone would have gone to just to find them, to make them yours. It had Joel written in every detail, every small, unspoken gesture meant to convey what words never could. The realization clawed at you, turning what had been a moment of pure joy into something complicated, something unbearably tender and painful all at once.

Your fingers tightened around the packet, the tiny seeds now feeling impossibly heavy in your hands, as if they held all the things left unsaid between you.

You didn’t dare look up, didn’t want to see the pity or confusion on anyone’s face, least of all Caleb’s. The warmth of his love, the comfort you had just found, suddenly felt fragile, slipping through your fingers as your heart twisted with the undeniable truth that, despite everything, Joel had left his mark on you, deep and unshakeable.

•••

You sat with Maria on the couch, the gentle hum of conversation around you fading as Tommy, Ellie, and Caleb headed outside to set up a fire pit. Their voices blended into low laughter and the crackle of kindling, a comforting sound that drifted back to the house.

Caleb had gifted you a leather-bound journal, its pages blank and waiting, a thoughtful gesture, especially since yours had nearly run out of space. Yet, somehow, the gift felt strangely hollow, unable to fill the silence left behind by everything else you couldn’t voice.

Maria’s voice cut softly through your thoughts. “He’s on patrol,” she said, her tone quiet but knowing, as if she understood more than she let on.

You looked at her, catching her gaze, something flickering there that made you feel seen in a way you weren’t ready for.

She nodded gently. “He wanted to come,” she continued, “but he couldn’t miss his shift.”

“Oh.” You tried to keep your voice even, unaffected, but you felt an unbidden rush of relief mingling with a strange disappointment.

Why did knowing he wanted to be here, but couldn’t, make your chest tighten? Why did it bring that bittersweet feeling creeping in, like a sigh you couldn’t let go of?

He would have been here if he could.

“But he’ll be there tonight,” Maria added, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, her tone light but carrying a hint of something unspoken.

“Tonight?” You glanced at her, feeling a sudden stir of curiosity tangled with a wary edge. “What do you mean?”

Maria raised her eyebrows, her expression feigning innocence but laced with amusement. “Ah, Caleb and his damn surprises. Guess he didn’t tell you?”

You shook your head, an odd mix of dread and excitement swirling in your chest, tightening like a knot. The idea of seeing Joel—of being in the same room after the weight of today’s revelations—left your mind in a quiet spin.

“We’re all heading to the Tipsy Bison tonight,” she said, giving your knee a reassuring pat. “Figured we’d celebrate properly, give you a chance to unwind.”

“Sounds…nice,” you murmured, managing a small smile.

Maria leaned closer, a playful glint in her eyes. “Well, I have another gift for you…but I didn’t want to show Caleb up. Though, I think that ship might’ve already sailed.”

“Maria!” you protested, but you couldn’t help laughing with her.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” she said, her chuckles spilling over as she led you upstairs. “Sorry, that was mean.” She caught her breath, grinning. “But still—you’re gonna love this.”

“You’re such an ass,” you teased, nudging her as you followed her into her room.

“Here it is,” she said, reaching into her closet.

There it hung - a dress crafted by Maria, a vision of elegance and simplicity. Made from a soft, creamy fabric, it hugged the body in all the right places, flowing naturally down to a midi length that grazed just below the knees. The neckline was a gentle scoop, the capped sleeves curved gracefully over the shoulders, lending the dress a vintage charm.

Scattered across the dress were small, floral cutouts, almost like dainty stars punctuating the fabric, allowing subtle glimpses of skin beneath. The fabric managed to be both demure and alluring, with a timeless, almost ethereal quality, as if it belonged to another era yet felt perfectly suited for the present.

It was a dress that could turn heads in any room—simple, beautiful, and quietly captivating.

You stared, momentarily speechless. “Maria…this is stunning.”

She smiled, giving you a nudge. “I thought you might like it. Figured it was time you had something as beautiful as you are.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you ran a hand over the dress, feeling the luxurious fabric beneath your fingertips. “I’ll wear it tonight,” you said softly, a touch of excitement sparking within you.

•••

You felt a flutter of nerves, the unmistakable butterflies in your stomach—a feeling you hadn’t encountered in a while. It was both thrilling and unnerving, like something had shifted inside you, but you couldn’t quite name it.

As you walked toward the Tipsy Bison, your mind wandered to Joel. You pictured him leaning against the bar, his usual presence a quiet, magnetic force.

Would he say hello? Would he give you space, giving no more than a polite nod? Would he even bother to acknowledge you?

As you made your way through the crowd at the bar, the subtle signs of birthday decorations became apparent—scavenged balloons in soft pastel shades, a few whispers of “Happy birthday” as you passed familiar faces. Caleb’s hand rested lightly on your lower back, a small but constant touch that didn’t go unnoticed.

When Caleb saw you come down the stairs from Maria’s room, wearing that dress, his breath caught in his throat. You were a vision in cream, the soft fabric catching the dim light of the bar, and for a split second, he thought about you standing at the altar, ready to take his last name, ready to belong to him completely.

"Let’s get the birthday girl a fucking drink!" Tommy exclaimed, his voice already tinged with the warmth of a few drinks, clearly eager to get the night started.

"Cheers to another year older and wiser!" he added, lifting his glass high with a grin.

"Cheers," you echoed, raising your glass, the weight of the night settling on your shoulders as you took in the faces around you. The warmth of the room, the laughter, and the clinking of glasses felt almost surreal.

You found yourself scanning the room, searching for Joel, an unspoken urgency tightening in your chest. Where was he?

“Looking for someone?” Caleb’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned, feeling a flicker of disappointment you couldn’t quite hide.

“Oh, there you are,” you replied, forcing a smile, but the words felt hollow, empty. The brightness in his eyes didn’t reach you, and for a brief, guilty moment, you couldn’t ignore the ache in your heart that only one person seemed to fill.

“Let’s dance,” he said, taking your hand and pulling you onto the dance floor. His touch was warm, but there was something detached in the way he held you, something that didn’t settle right in your chest.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, as you began to sway to the soft thrum of music in the background.

“Thank you,” you replied, your words automatic as your gaze flickered toward the door of the Tipsy Bison, your heart still fluttering with anticipation.

You tried to focus on the rhythm of your movements, the way the soft music swirled around you, but your mind kept drifting, restless.

A voice summoned Caleb away, murmuring something about a cake you weren’t supposed to know about. He shook his head, clearly frustrated that the moment had to end. "I'll be right back," he promised, his gaze lingering.

You chuckled softly, not wanting to make it harder for him to leave. “It’s fine, really. Go on—I’ll find Maria in the meantime.”

You turned to find her and Tommy somewhere in the crowd, but then you felt it—the pull. A visceral, gut-wrenching tug that stole the breath from your lungs, like some magnetic force had wrapped itself around your very core.

It was something primal, something undeniable, surging through you like lightning, an irresistible draw toward the one person you hadn’t been able to shake from your heart, not even for a moment.

He was here.

You gasped quietly, the sound caught somewhere between a breath and a whisper as you turned. And there he was.

Joel.

Your heart thundered wildly, drowning out every other sound as you took him in. He looked achingly handsome, cleaned up in a way you’d never seen—his beard trimmed to perfection, each hair deliberate yet effortlessly rugged. He wore a dark button-up that fit him with an almost devastating precision, every line and curve of him highlighted, yet softened by the shirt’s deep hue. His hair was slicked back, adding a polish to his usual rough edges.

His gaze swept the room, searching, until it found you. And when his eyes landed on you, a subtle shift crossed his face—a flicker of uncertainty melting into something so tender, so open it felt like a gift.

A slow, guarded smile broke across his lips, the kind of smile that felt rare and carefully offered. And despite yourself, you mirrored it, warmth spreading through your chest, leaving you breathless, your heart catching as you looked back at him.

He started toward you, his steps almost tentative, as if each one took more courage than the last. There was something shy in the way he approached, and it was so painfully sweet that it left a hollow ache, a dizzying rush, a feeling you couldn’t name but felt in every fiber of your being.

“Happy birthday,” he murmured, pulling you into a hug that felt like it wrapped around every inch of you, enveloping you in a warmth that made the world fall away.

His arms were strong, steady, and as he held you, you felt your knees weaken, the weight of his presence overwhelming yet grounding. You clung to him, not daring to move, as if letting go would break whatever fragile spell had pulled him here, to you, in this moment.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling, the words barely making it past the thundering pulse in your ears. It felt like your heart had taken up residence in your throat, every beat a reminder of how real he was, how close.

“I, uh…” He trailed off, his voice catching, and for a heartbeat, you saw him—truly saw him—vulnerable, a hint of hesitation softening the hard lines of his face. “I wanted to come by earlier, but I got caught up on patrol.”

“Maria told me,” you replied, your words spilling out before you could even think, laced with a breathlessness you couldn’t hide.

He nodded, a flicker of something almost bashful passing over his face, his jaw tightening as if he was struggling to hold back. There was a gentleness in his expression, a quiet depth that made your chest ache, that left you wanting to memorize every line, every flicker of his gaze.

“Did you…did you get my gift?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. That roughness in his tone, usually so sure, now carried a raw, unguarded edge, and in that single question, you could feel the weight of every unspoken word between you—tender and vulnerable, lingering just beneath the surface.

You nodded, your smile deepening. “It was perfect,” you murmured, warmth flooding your chest as you thought of the rose seeds he’d chosen, each one a promise, a quiet gift just for you.

A genuine smile broke across his face, softening those guarded lines, and you realized how long it had been since you’d seen him like this—unguarded, open. “Good,” he said, almost tenderly. “For your garden.”

His gaze traveled over you, lingering in a way that made your heart pound. “That’s… a hell of a dress” he murmured, his voice low, eyes tracing every line and curve, his stare lingering on you as if he was seeing you for the first time, taking in every detail.

A blush crept up your cheeks under the weight of his attention, a rush of warmth that spread through you, leaving you both exposed and exhilarated. The intensity in his eyes was almost too much, a fire you couldn’t look away from, and yet…you didn’t want to.

“Thanks… Maria made it,” you replied, voice softer than you meant, struggling to find your footing under his gaze.

He nodded, his gaze flickering briefly around the room, watching the couples swaying together in soft rhythms on the dance floor. There was a pause—a flicker of something in his expression, something that felt like hesitation, vulnerability even. Then, in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, he asked, “May I?”

This was dangerous, reckless—you shouldn’t, you thought. Not with your fiancé just a few feet away, busy in the kitchen preparing your birthday cake.

But something in you betrayed that logic, and after a heartbeat, you nodded, surrendering. His hand slipped around yours, warm and steady, and he led you onto the dance floor. The moment felt surreal, as if the world had slipped into a different time and space where only the two of you existed.

Everything around you dissolved—the lights, the murmurs of other people, even the steady hum of music. All that was left was him, his hand at the small of your back, guiding you in gentle steps that felt too right, too natural, like you had always been meant to move this way together. The rhythm of the song was a soft thrum in the background, intimate and unhurried, but it was his presence that overpowered it, anchoring you, drawing you closer.

With each step, every subtle shift, you felt yourself spiraling deeper into his orbit, as if the universe had tilted just to place you here, in this fragile, fleeting moment. And for now, just this once, you let yourself be swept away, the rest of the world dissolving like a forgotten dream.

The soft fairy lights strung across the Tipsy Bison cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating his eyes until they looked like molten honey—rich, deep, filled with secrets and stories you’d give anything to know. Those eyes were the kind that made the air hitch in your lungs, made you feel as if you were the only person in his world.

And under his gaze, you almost believed it.

Your hands intertwined perfectly, his fingers wrapping around yours in a way that felt like a homecoming, as though they’d always been meant to find solace there. His other hand settled low on your hip, his thumb brushing gentle, rhythmic circles against you, a touch so grounding yet tender it sent a warmth spreading through you. His movements guided you in a slow, unhurried sway, the two of you falling effortlessly into a rhythm that matched the music’s soft, steady beat.

“Where… where’d you find the seeds?” you asked, your voice soft, almost hesitant, eyes searching his face, trying to catch every flicker of expression.

“When Ellie and I were… uh, gone,” he began, his voice steady yet laced with something raw, something fragile. He looked down, his gaze drifting to the floor before meeting yours again. “Found ’em and thought of you. Kept ’em, just in case I ever…” He trailed off, the unfinished words hanging heavily between you, laden with all the things he’d never said, all the things that had gone unspoken but never unfelt.

The space around you thickened, the weight of his thoughtfulness settling into every unspoken inch between you. He hadn’t merely thought of you in passing—he’d carried you with him, held onto this small piece of hope, even when it seemed like whatever you had was just a distant memory, too far gone to ever reach again.

“Oh.” The word slipped from your lips, barely above a whisper, your heart thundering in your chest as you absorbed everything his quiet confession held. You looked up at him, feeling the impact of everything you’d just learned, the depths he’d gone to, the things he’d kept close.

“Ellie told me.”

You felt him still, his hand pressing a little firmer against your hip, grounding himself in the moment. “She did?” His voice was barely audible, tinged with an emotion you couldn’t quite name—relief? Regret? A complicated blend of both.

“Yeah,” you replied, voice trembling. “She told me everything… about her bite, about why you left.”

When he finally looked back at you, there was a glimmer of something vulnerable in his eyes—a quiet, almost desperate hope that made your chest ache.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Joel?” The question slipped out, your voice barely above a whisper, yet heavy enough to linger in the air. “Why didn’t you wake me up? Or… at least leave a note?”

The sounds around you faded, the music dimming to nothing as his expression shifted, his gaze dropping. He seemed to struggle, the silence stretching out between you until it felt like it could crack under the weight of everything unsaid.

Finally, he spoke, his voice rough and raw. “I know,” he muttered, barely above a whisper, each word weighed down with regret. “I know it was…fucking stupid. Should’ve told you, should’ve explained. There’s no excuse—I should’ve just…should’ve told you, I think.” He paused, swallowing hard, his gaze dropping as though he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. “I was scared, and I know that sounds like a damn pathetic excuse, but… it’s the truth.”

He took a shaky breath, as if gathering the courage to continue. “I thought if I just… left quietly, it wouldn’t feel so real. But saying goodbye… I couldn’t face it. Couldn’t face you.” His voice wavered, a crack of vulnerability slipping through. “And now I’d do anything to go back, to change it all. Anything.”

There was a painful honesty in his tone, an ache that seemed to reach down to his very core. His shoulders tensed, his jaw set with the weight of guilt he’d been carrying, a guilt that had carved itself deep into him.

You could see it in the way his gaze wavered, as if he couldn’t quite meet your eyes, as if he was bracing himself for whatever judgment you might cast. In that moment, he was laid bare, stripped of his usual guarded strength, showing you the bruises he kept hidden—the hurt he’d caused himself by walking away.

You stayed silent, the words tangled up in your chest, knotted and aching, fighting to break free.

“I missed you,” you whispered, the confession slipping out before you could stop it, carrying a weight that felt almost too heavy to bear. The words hung in the air, soft yet resonant, filled with regret, with longing, with an ache you hadn’t realized was still so raw.

He looked at you, his eyes widening just slightly, a glimmer of something fragile lighting in his gaze. “You… did?” His voice was barely above a murmur, hesitant, like he didn’t dare believe it, yet there was a quiet desperation in his expression—a need to hear it, to let himself hope, even if it was dangerous. The look he gave you made the air feel heavier, thick with all the emotions you’d been holding back.

“Of course I did,” you replied, meeting his gaze and feeling your heart twist at the vulnerability in his face. “You took care of me in ways I didn’t even realize until you were gone.” Your voice dropped, and you looked down, feeling your chest tighten. “I—I couldn’t sleep for months without you there beside me. Didn’t want to admit it, but… it felt like I was drowning without you.”

He looked at you now like you were the answer to something he’d been searching for, as if those words had bridged a chasm he’d thought was too wide to ever cross.

The confession slipped out, raw and unguarded, before you could even think to hold it back. You had spent so long convincing yourself that you were better off without him, telling yourself that you’d moved on, that you didn’t need him.

But the truth was, you hadn’t been whole since he left. Each night, lying alone in the vast emptiness of your bed, it felt as though some vital piece of you was missing, like a wound that refused to heal.

“I thought about you every day,” he murmured, his voice thick, laced with a depth of emotion that made your chest ache. The words lingered between you, heavy with the weight of everything he’d kept buried.

In his eyes, you could see it—the regret, the longing, the silent, unyielding truth he’d been carrying alone. And in that moment, he wasn’t hiding anymore; he was letting himself be seen, stripped of all pretense, finally letting you see the vulnerability he’d kept locked away.

His hand slid down to your hip, then rose slowly, almost as if he were afraid you might pull away, before settling on your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a touch so light it felt like it might disappear if you blinked.

It was intoxicating—not the whiskey, but the overwhelming gravity of him, the way his mere presence made you feel more alive, more vulnerable, than you’d ever thought possible.

Only he could do this—make you feel utterly exposed and entirely safe, with just the whisper of his fingers against your skin.

His thumb drifted down, grazing your bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, his gaze following the movement with a fierce, aching intensity, as though he were memorizing every detail, committing the sensation to memory. “To think,” he murmured, his voice a rough blend of regret and yearning, “I never got to kiss these lips.”

“Joel…” The whisper slipped from your lips, trembling, as if your own voice could barely contain the weight of his name. The ground beneath you felt like it was crumbling, the world narrowing to this one breathless moment. Your knees weakened, a quiet surrender overtaking you, and for the first time, you felt helplessly, beautifully powerless, lost in the ache between his fingertips and his gaze.

You felt his hand slip to the back of your neck, steadying you as he drew you closer, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, the solid strength of him grounding you in a way that nothing else could. He gave you a sad smile, one that broke something inside you, because it was tinged with so much sorrow it never quite reached his eyes.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice soft, a little rough, almost like a plea. His hand slid up, guiding you until your head rested against his chest, your ear pressed to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. “Just… let me hold you,” he whispered, his words thick with an ache he couldn’t hide. “Please… don’t say anything.”

You nodded, sensing the unspoken fear in his eyes—the fear that you might tell him to stop, to pull back, to shatter this fragile closeness he so desperately clung to.

In his arms, you felt something deeper than comfort; it was a sense of belonging, a promise wrapped in the warmth of his hold, a silent assurance that, for this brief moment, everything was as it should be. And yet, somewhere beneath that warmth, there was an ache—a quiet sadness that made it feel like both a beginning and an ending, like a promise and a goodbye, woven together in the quiet, unspoken understanding that neither of you dared to break.

What you didn’t see was Caleb, emerging from the kitchen with a smile that radiated warmth and excitement. His eyes sparkled with the joy of seeing you again, eager to sweep you back into the celebration, to lose himself in the laughter and dance that had defined the night. But as his gaze landed on you and Joel—your hand pressed against Joel’s chest, his arm wrapped around you, the two of you standing impossibly close—Caleb froze.

In an instant, the warmth in his chest turned cold, hardening into a knot of dread that twisted painfully, souring the joy he’d felt only moments before. He saw the way your hand lingered on Joel’s chest, how Joel looked at you with an intensity Caleb could never ignore—a look filled with longing, regret, a depth that seemed to cut straight through him.

Caleb’s chest tightened, his pulse pounding as he took in the scene before him. Here was the man who felt like a shadow over everything Caleb dreamed of—a silent barrier between you and the life he wanted to build, a man who symbolized not just an obstacle, but a threat to the future Caleb had envisioned with you.

•••

A cough broke the silence, slicing through the tension like a blade. Caleb stood in front of you, his expression tightly controlled, but the pain in his eyes spoke louder than words. He wasn’t the kind of man to yell or make a scene, but the quiet devastation in his gaze twisted something deep inside you.

“Mind if I steal my girl for a second?” he said, his voice tight, each word laced with barely contained frustration.

Joel’s shoulders slumped slightly, a flicker of resignation crossing his face as he gave a silent nod. He met your eyes one last time, an unspoken regret hanging there, before he backed away, disappearing into the crowd.

You turned to Caleb, forcing a small, uneasy smile, hoping he wouldn’t bring up what he’d just seen. But he didn’t return your smile. Instead, he swallowed, his jaw clenched, his eyes filled with a hurt that made it hard to meet his gaze.

“What the hell was that?” he asked quietly, his voice carrying a restrained intensity, the simmering anger unmistakable.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, but even to your own ears, the words sounded hollow.

“Don’t.” His tone was sharper than you’d ever heard it, a warning edged with pain. “Don’t lie to me. Not now—not when we’re supposed to be getting married in a month.”

“We were just dancing, Caleb,” you insisted, but the words felt feeble, barely convincing even to yourself.

“Stop,” he said, his voice rising slightly, drawing a few glances from the people nearby. His face twisted with a mixture of hurt and frustration, his control slipping. “Don’t act like I didn’t see what was going on. You think I can’t see it? The way you looked at him?”

He took a shaky breath, his voice trembling as he continued, “I need you to be honest with me, because I can’t do this if there’s any part of you that’s still holding onto him.”

“Can we talk about this later?” you pleaded, feeling the weight of curious eyes around you, your voice a quiet entreaty.

“No.” Caleb’s response was immediate, his frustration evident. “We’re talking about this now.”

“Caleb,” you whispered, glancing around at the people watching, feeling exposed. “Please, not here. Not in front of everyone.”

“I don’t care who’s watching,” he said, his voice lower but unyielding. “I deserve to know what’s going on between you two—right now.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy and Maria edging closer, their faces etched with concern as they observed the tension building between you and Caleb. Their presence only added to the weight pressing down on you, the intensity of the moment nearly suffocating.

Caleb’s gaze shifted, his frustration boiling over. “Where the hell is he?” he muttered under his breath, his jaw tight.

As if summoned by the charged air, Joel appeared beside you, his expression calm but his gaze sharp as he looked at Caleb. “No reason to be raising your voice at the lady,” he said, his tone low, but the quiet warning was unmistakable.

Caleb’s face hardened, a bitter sneer twisting his mouth. “I need to talk to you, asshole,” he said, voice taut with anger as he took a step closer to Joel.

“Caleb,” you began, your voice pleading, but he didn’t look at you. His eyes were locked on Joel, the rage barely contained.

“Go ahead,” Joel said coolly, crossing his arms as he met Caleb’s glare head-on, unflinching.

Caleb’s shoulders tensed as he moved even closer, his voice low, but the intensity behind it was unmistakable. “You need to back off. I don’t know what the hell you two had going on, but she’s my fiancée. And I don’t want to see you anywhere near her again.”

Joel’s gaze narrowed, his jaw tightening. “Don’t think that’s your call to make.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” Caleb shot back, his voice rising enough to draw more attention, the frustration and hurt evident in his tone.

“Caleb, please,” you whispered, voice cracking, tears welling in your eyes. But he didn’t look at you—his gaze was fixed on Joel, anger and frustration hardening his features. Joel’s eyes, however, were on you, searching, his silent question clear: Are you okay?

“Caleb,” Joel said, his tone even, unshaken, “this isn’t the time. It’s her birthday.”

Caleb let out a bitter laugh, his eyes flashing. “Now you’re acting like you know what’s best for her?” He shook his head, his voice a mixture of hurt and disbelief. “I can’t believe you. You waltz back into her life, and suddenly you’re the one who understands her?”

Joel held his ground, his expression steady. “I’m not pretending to know everything,” he replied quietly. “But I know that right now, she doesn’t need this.”

Caleb clenched his fists, glancing at you, then back at Joel, his voice rising. “And what she needs is you?”

“Caleb, stop,” you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, but the urgency in it held him in place.

“This isn’t the right time to talk about this,” Joel said, his voice low as he began to turn away, but not before casting a lingering glance your way—a quiet, unspoken reassurance.

But Caleb wasn’t done. “Hey! You don’t get to walk away from me, asshole.” He reached out, his hand gripping Joel’s shoulder, pulling him back with enough force to turn him around to face him directly.

Before you even registered what was happening, Caleb’s fist flew forward, connecting with Joel’s jaw with a force that sent a shockwave through the crowd around you. The impact echoed, silencing the murmur of voices as people turned to stare, wide-eyed.

Joel staggered back, momentarily dazed, his hand rising instinctively to his jaw. But then he steadied himself, his gaze hardening as he looked back at Caleb, a dark determination in his eyes.

“Caleb!” you gasped, stepping forward, but the tension between them was thick, raw, and unyielding, as though neither could hear you. Caleb’s chest heaved with anger, his fists still clenched, and Joel stood his ground, his posture unshaken, his gaze steady, daring Caleb to make the next move.

The silence around you was deafening, everyone waiting to see what would happen next, and you felt a mix of fear and desperation, knowing that whatever came next could change everything.

Joel turned to leave again, clearly trying to defuse the situation, but Caleb wasn’t finished. He grabbed Joel’s arm, yanking him back once more. This time, Joel had reached his limit. In one swift movement, he gripped Caleb’s shoulders firmly, pulling him close enough to speak low, his voice a quiet storm.

“Enough,” Joel hissed, his words sharp and precise, barely contained as he struggled to keep control. His grip on Caleb was firm, a grounding hold that left no room for further argument. There was a finality in his tone, a command that dared Caleb to defy him.

“You got a problem with me, you come to me,” Joel said, his voice low and steady. “Like a man. You don’t ruin her night.”

For a moment, Caleb faltered, his breath coming in heavy, uneven waves as he stared back at Joel, the weight of his words settling over him. The two of them stood in a silent standoff, the tension between them almost palpable, crackling with unspoken resentment and restraint. But Joel’s control—his refusal to let this spiral—spoke louder than any fight could have. His priority was clear, and it wasn’t himself.

As he slowly released his grip, he cast a look back in your direction, his gaze softening for just a heartbeat, a fleeting vulnerability crossing his expression.

You thought it was over.

You thought the tension had finally dissolved, that the confrontation would end with Joel’s final, steady words. But just as Joel began to turn away, you saw a flash of movement—Caleb, his face twisted with embarrassment and anger, lunging forward, fists clenched.

Before you could think, you moved instinctively, stepping between them. “Caleb, stop!” you cried, reaching out, but in the flurry, Caleb’s fist, meant for Joel, swung wildly in the chaos—and in an instant, pain exploded across your eye as his knuckles connected with you instead. You staggered back, a sharp gasp escaping your lips, clutching your face as the room spun in shock.

Caleb’s fist connected with your eye in a swift, unintended blow, and a sharp, blinding pain surged through you, leaving your vision faltering as the shock of it set in. You stumbled back, your hand instinctively flying to your face as the world spun, your eye already throbbing, the pain deep and immediate.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry,” Caleb stammered, his face pale as he stared at you, horror and guilt flashing across his features. He reached out, hands trembling as he tried to come closer. “It was an accident—I didn’t mean to—”

But the words hung there, hollow and helpless, unable to undo the pain or the impact. His eyes were wide, pleading, as though he wished he could take back the last few seconds, erase what had just happened. The shock in his expression, the way he hesitated, spoke to the gravity of the mistake he’d made—a line crossed, one that couldn’t be undone.

Before he could get any closer, Tommy stepped between you, his voice low and firm. “Step back. Right now.”

Caleb’s hands froze mid-air, his face twisted in a mixture of panic and regret. “I didn’t know—I wasn’t aiming for her. It was an accident, I swear!”

“Now,” Tommy repeated, his tone brooking no argument, his steady gaze pinning Caleb in place. The room had fallen into a tense silence, all eyes on the unfolding scene, the weight of what had just happened settling over everyone.

Joel was by your side in an instant, his hand gentle yet firm as it cradled your face, his thumb brushing tenderly just below your eye, which was already starting to swell and bruise. His gaze was frantic, worry etched into every line of his face as he took in the injury, his jaw tightening, eyes flicking with barely restrained anger.

“Hey, darling,” he murmured, his voice soft, steady. “You’re alright. I’m here—I’m right here.”

But the pain, both physical and emotional, overwhelmed you, a sob escaping before you could stop it. “I need to get out of here, Joel,” you managed, your voice breaking as tears slipped down your cheeks. “Please… I can’t be here.”

Without hesitation, Joel slipped his arm around you, his touch solid and reassuring as he led you away, his presence a shield against the stares and murmurs surrounding you. He held you close, his own voice low and steady as he whispered, “I’ve got you. Just breathe. We’re getting out of here, right now.”

Joel guided you home, the short walk feeling like miles with the throbbing pain in your eye. As soon as you reached the door, he had Ellie sprint to his place to grab some painkillers he kept stashed away for his back, the kind tucked into his drawer just for emergencies.

Now, he had you settled on your couch, his presence anchoring you as he sat as close as he could, his fingers brushing carefully beneath your swollen eye, his touch feather-light. His face was etched with worry, a raw, almost desperate guilt darkening his expression. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick and rough with regret. He looked like he’d take the pain on himself if he could.

“It’s not your fault,” you managed, choking on the words as quiet sobs broke through, your breath catching with each one. “I don’t even know why I stepped forward—I just… I didn’t want him to hit you again.”

He stilled, his gaze softening as he reached up to gently wipe away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” he whispered, the endearment filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “I can’t stand seein’ you like this, hurtin’ like this.”

He looked around, his concern shifting to impatience. “Where the hell is Ellie?” he muttered, glancing toward the door as though he could summon her with sheer will, his urgency clear—he couldn’t bear to see you in pain one second longer than necessary.

And though the ache in your eye throbbed, his touch, his presence, and the warmth in his voice softened the edges, leaving you with the feeling that, as long as he was here, you’d be alright.

Just then, Ellie burst in, breathless and wide-eyed, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief as she took in the scene. “Holy shit,” she exclaimed, eyes darting between you and Joel. “That was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Ellie,” Joel cut her off, his tone firm but gentle as he motioned to the bottle in her hand. “Give me those, and grab some water from the kitchen, would ya?”

Without hesitation, Ellie handed over the painkillers, her gaze lingering on you with concern before she hurried into the kitchen. Joel opened the bottle, easing you upright with one hand, his touch warm and steady.

“Here, baby,” he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a quiet tenderness as he held the glass to you and placed a pill in your hand. “Take this—it’ll help.”

You took the pill, letting his words and touch ground you as you sipped the water he offered. The throbbing pain dulled just slightly in the warmth of his care, and as you met his gaze, you saw something there—an unspoken promise, a reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Ellie dropped onto the other couch, her brows knit in worry as she took in your bruised face. “That’s a nasty black eye,” she muttered, her voice caught between worry and a strange sort of awe.

“Ellie,” Joel’s voice held a gentle but unmistakable warning. “Go on home. It’s past your bedtime.”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “It’s only ten!” she protested, but the look he gave her softened her defiance. With a huff, she stood up, glancing back at you with genuine concern.

“Hey… I hope you feel better soon,” she said, her voice quieter, sincere. She hesitated, her gaze flicking to Joel before she added, “And, uh—Joel’ll take care of you. You’re in good hands.”

You managed a small, grateful smile, the warmth of her concern and Joel’s steady presence easing some of the ache. Ellie nodded, satisfied, and slipped out the door, leaving you alone with Joel in the soft quiet, the sense of safety he radiated settling around you like a blanket.

The pain had started to dull, though your vision remained blurred, Joel’s figure splitting slightly into a hazy double image as he leaned in close, his hand resting steady and grounding on your shoulder.

“You alright? Warm enough?” he asked, his voice gentle but thick with concern, his eyes scanning your face as if he could will the pain away.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine, Joel,” you managed, offering a faint, wavering smile. “Thank you for getting me out of there. I… I’ve never seen him like that—so angry.”

Joel’s expression shifted, his jaw setting as something dark and fierce flickered in his gaze. He shook his head, his mouth tightening, frustration etched into every line of his face. “He had no right,” he muttered, his voice low, barely restrained. “Of all damn nights—on your birthday, no less. That asshole…” His words trailed off, the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior, as though he was holding back an urge to storm out and finish what had been started.

“You know you deserve better than that, right?” Joel’s voice was soft but firm, his gaze steady as he looked at you, waiting for the words to sink in. “I would never… I can’t imagine ever doing that to you.”

There was an honesty in his tone, a quiet conviction that made your chest tighten. His hand lingered on your shoulder, warm and grounding, and the way he looked at you—as if you were someone precious, someone worth protecting—stirred something deep within you, a feeling you’d buried for too long.

For a moment, the pain in your eye, the embarrassment of the night, all of it faded under the weight of his words, his presence.

“I know you wouldn’t,” you murmured, your voice barely holding steady as you let out a shaky breath. Slowly, you lifted your hand, your fingers grazing the angle of his jaw where Caleb’s punch had left a faint bruise, half-hidden beneath the roughness of his beard. Your touch was soft, tentative, tracing the bruise with a gentleness that seemed to make him wince, though he didn’t pull away. His gaze stayed locked on yours, unwavering, intense, as though he was absorbing every part of this moment.

“Bet I look awful,” you tried to joke, a faint laugh escaping, but the self-consciousness gnawed at you, awareness flooding in as you thought of the swelling around your eye, the bruises marking your skin. Embarrassment washed over you, and you began to pull your hand back, suddenly feeling vulnerable beneath his steady gaze.

But Joel’s hand moved swiftly, catching yours, his fingers curling around yours, holding your hand against his cheek. “Don’t,” he whispered, his voice low and warm, a quiet command wrapped in tenderness.

His thumb brushed over your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a look so unguarded, so filled with admiration, it left you breathless. “You’re beautiful. Don’t ever doubt that. Even now… you’re still the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen.”

His words settled around you, filling the space between you with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely holding steady as you looked up at him, feeling every part of you drawn to him, helpless to resist. “Kiss me.”

Something flickered in his eyes—a mixture of longing and relief, like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. In an instant, the space between you disappeared. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you closer, his breath warm against your lips, hovering for a heartbeat, letting every ounce of tension swell until it felt like you might break from it.

Then he kissed you, his lips claimed yours with a fervor that took your breath away, the kiss deep and consuming, as if he were pouring years of waiting, of unspoken feelings, into this single, electric moment.

His hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his other arm tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel his heartbeat, wild and fierce, mirroring your own, a rhythm that seemed to fill every inch of you.

The kiss deepened, his lips moving over yours with an intensity that left you dizzy, the world blurring until nothing else existed but the heat of his mouth, the strength of his arms, the way he held you as if he’d finally found what he’d been searching for.

You clung to him, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as he pulled you impossibly closer, the space between you vanishing entirely.

When he finally drew back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathless, he didn’t let go. His hand lingered, fingers grazing your jaw, his eyes searching yours, a quiet intensity in them that made your pulse race all over again.

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[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕤𝕚𝕩

Warning: Angst/comfort/MPreg/MxM

A/B/O dynamics:

Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)

Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)

Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)

The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.

Summary - Request; I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

The words left his lips as soon as he sat down across from her. His voice was low, full of regret, but the moment they left him, he regretted them. He could already feel the weight of her anger pressing down on him.

“Sorry for what exactly, Chan?” Her eyes narrowed, and her voice dripped with venom. “For leaving me for dead?”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart tightened painfully, and for a moment, he couldn’t find his voice. If only she knew...

“I didn’t leave you for dead... I promise.” His voice was a soft whisper, as if he were speaking to himself. He shut his eyes, willing away the pain that threatened to swallow him.

“Then what exactly is it?” She scoffed, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. Her eyes flashed with an intensity that made his chest tighten even more. “What’s your excuse?”

“Can... can you let me explain?” His words came out barely above a whisper, but there was a pleading tone to them. He needed her to understand—needed to make her see that he never meant for things to turn out this way.

She tilted her head, studying him for a long, hard moment. “You guys were at the territory line, right? You could smell my scent... and yet you chose to ignore it. You could hear my screams through the bond, but you chose to ignore that too,” she said, each word sharper than the last. Her anger was building, and it felt like it was radiating off her, burning everything in its path.

She was right—and wrong—and it ate at him.

He felt the weight of her words, but there was so much more she didn’t know.

“Oh, Y/N… if you only knew…” Chan thought to himself, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate.

“That’s not what happened!” The words came out more forcefully than he intended, and his hands trembled as he ran them through his hair. “Just... let me explain. Please.”

He couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall now. The overwhelming guilt, the helplessness—it all came rushing back, and he couldn’t stop it.

“Go ahead, I’m listening,” Y/N said bitterly, her arms still crossed, her gaze as hard as stone. She leaned back, her eyes never leaving him. The challenge in her words was clear—prove it.

Chan took a shuddering breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of everything he had been holding in for so long. He wasn’t sure how to start, but the words felt too important to rush.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Hyung, look at this! Changbin’s voice boasted through the bond, brimming with excitement. He was a few meters away from Chan and LeeKnow, clearly having found something unusual.

What is it? Chan asked, his paws deep in the soil as he worked on scent-marking the perimeter of their territory. The branches around him swayed gently, brushing against his fur.

I just found this… dead… deer? Changbin tilted his head, trying to get a better smell of the carcass, his nose twitching in confusion.

Deer? We never have deer here… Chan responded, perplexed. Wait—don’t touch it! His ears pricked up, a sense of urgency creeping into his tone.

Chan’s body tensed, and he moved swiftly, using his heightened senses to track Changbin’s scent. As he closed the distance, he could feel the hairs along his neck stand on end. When he finally arrived, the sight before him took him by surprise.

Why is there a deer here? Chan questioned, his voice low, almost growling, as he scanned the area. The animal’s body lay unnaturally far from their territory line, and it was disturbing—too far beyond the boundaries of where it should have been.

Do you think someone was here? Changbin asked, circling the lifeless creature, sniffing cautiously.

I can’t smell any other scents, Chan growled, his gut twisting with unease. Something didn’t feel right. His nose was sharp—too sharp—and he knew this land like the back of his paw. There had never been a deer this far into their territory, much less one lying dead.

Stay alert, Chan warned, his voice tightening as a sense of danger gnawed at him.

Changbin nuzzled his snout into Chan’s side in silent understanding before scanning the perimeter, his tail flicking nervously.

I don’t have a good feeling about this, Changbin growled quietly.

“I know. Neither do I,” Chan agreed, taking a few cautious steps away from the deer’s body. His instincts screamed that something was wrong.

It was then that a twig snapped nearby. Chan’s reflexes were lightning fast. He growled, stepping in front of Changbin, his body tensing as he prepared for whatever threat was coming.

It’s just me, hyung. Can’t you smell me? LeeKnow emerged from the bushes, laughing softly, clearly unaware of how close he had come to putting himself in danger.

LeeKnow! Don’t do that! Chan’s voice was a low, furious growl. Oh my God, you almost got yourself killed! He snapped, heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, LeeKnow quickly apologized, his voice sheepish, but his curiosity got the better of him. I thought you could hear me... I was pretty loud. What’s going on here? Wait—is that a deer? His eyes widened in disbelief.

Yeah, exactly, Chan muttered, still shaken. That’s why we’re on high alert. But I didn’t smell you. In fact… I don’t smell anything. His voice trailed off in confusion, his eyes narrowing as his senses felt off, almost muted. What was going on with his ability to smell?

LeeKnow’s expression darkened as he stepped closer, sniffing the air. Hyung… I don’t have a good feeling about this.

Okay, let’s just go back to the territory line, Chan replied, feeling a sudden surge of protectiveness and unease. Where’s Y/N? I don’t feel good having her this far out. His thoughts were racing. She shouldn’t be anywhere near this strange scene.

She’s picking strawberries by the wild gardens… LeeKnow replied.

Okay, go get her and—

Before Chan could finish his sentence, a sweet, unfamiliar scent filled the air. It was intoxicating, heavy and thick, like something dangerous. Chan’s heart began to race in his chest, his head spinning. What is that?

I don’t feel well, Changbin groaned, rubbing his nose with his paw. The world around them seemed to tilt, and Chan’s body started to feel sluggish, his legs unsteady.

His senses began to dull, and the world around him seemed to blur.

I can’t feel my legs… LeeKnow’s voice was panicked. His body trembled as he tried to move, but his limbs felt frozen.

Shit… It’s a trap, Chan realized too late, his stomach dropping. The sweet scent—the drugging, overpowering smell—it wasn’t just a random scent. It was a weapon.

Changbin! LeeKnow! Can you hear me?! Chan’s voice cracked with fear, the adrenaline flooding his bloodstream as he tried to move. His paws were heavy, his vision swimming. He had heard about this—heard the older Ummas in the village speak in hushed voices about poison or sedative gases. But never had he expected it to happen to them.

Changbin?! LeeKnow?! he cried out, his voice desperate, but there was no response. The two of them were collapsing, just as he was.

Chan felt his body buckle beneath him, his strength draining away as the toxin infiltrated his bloodstream. The world around him slowed to a crawl. His vision blurred, his eyes fluttering. The last thing he saw was a figure—human, but somehow otherworldly—moving toward him.

The figure knelt beside him, their face twisted into a mocking smirk. “Oh, the mighty alpha… can’t even protect his luna,” they said, their voice dripping with disdain.

Luna. The word hit him like a punch to the gut.

His heart skipped a beat. Y/N. She was out there, alone, and he couldn’t do anything.

Chan’s vision faded completely as the darkness claimed him. His body went limp, unconscious, the last coherent thought in his mind that Y/N was in danger.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“And so when we woke up, we searched for you everywhere,” Chan’s voice cracked as he spoke, his chest tightening with the weight of the memories. “Through the forest, the waterfall, everywhere we could think of, but your scent was so faint. The rogues—” he stopped, his breath shaky. “The rogues didn’t have any scent. We searched all day, non-stop, until we had no choice but to come back. The betas and omegas were freaking out. We were exhausted and starving.”

Chan’s eyes welled up with tears, his voice breaking. “I never stopped looking for you, Y/N. You have to believe me. I never gave up. I thought about you every second, every day... and I couldn’t stop searching for you.”

Y/N’s eyes glowed golden, a flash of anger and hurt in her gaze. She could feel the heat rising in her chest, the pain she had carried all this time surfacing. She had thought they weren’t looking for her, that they had abandoned her. The rogues had filled her head with lies, convincing her that no one was coming for her. But now, hearing Chan’s words, everything she had believed was shattering.

“So… so they set you guys up?” Y/N sniffled, her voice trembling as she looked up at the alpha sitting across from her. Chan was slouched on the couch, his sweatpants and black vest a stark contrast to the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Yes,” Chan said softly, his voice low with suppressed anger. “They did. And they had been planning on taking you.” He clenched his fists, the memory of the betrayal still raw. “When I found them—” he stopped, the words heavy on his tongue.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. “You... you killed them?” She gasped, her eyes widening with a mix of relief and awe. For a moment, she felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted from her chest.

“Yes.” Chan nodded grimly. “After you came back and... after seeing what they had done to you, I couldn’t let them live. I tracked them down with Mark and the hyungs. We found their den, and we killed them.” He exhaled sharply, the memory of the violence still fresh in his mind. “I couldn’t let them walk away after what they did to you... not after what they did to us.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, her shoulders trembling as the tears began to fall. The enormity of what Chan had done for her hit her like a ton of bricks. He had gone through so much, fought so hard—for her. She felt an overwhelming sense of guilt flood her heart. She had been so focused on her own pain, on her own suffering, that she hadn’t once thought about what he had gone through. What he had endured.

“Channie, I’m so sorry.” Her voice was a whisper, the words barely leaving her lips as she looked up at him, her eyes filled with regret.

Chan’s gaze softened. His hands trembled as he reached out toward her, but he hesitated, unsure if she would want him to touch her. “Please... don’t apologize,” he murmured, his voice strained. “Never apologize. It’s not your fault.”

Y/N shook her head, her tears falling faster. “No, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was awful to you. I thought you didn’t care. I thought you gave up on finding me, and... I just... I was in so much pain. I still am. I’m angry at the world, Channie. But I hope you can forgive me for everything.” Her voice cracked with emotion, and she looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

“I don’t need you to forgive me,” Chan said softly, his voice full of warmth and understanding. “I understand, my love. I know you were in a state... a state no one should have to endure. I don’t blame you. Not at all. I should’ve been there for you, even when you pushed me away. I should’ve stayed by your side.” His voice trembled as he spoke, and his eyes darkened with the guilt of not being able to protect her. “I just... I can’t see you in pain anymore. I want to help you heal.”

Y/N’s heart ached as she reached her hand out toward him. Chan looked at her, surprised, but then slowly he took her hand in his. The moment their fingers touched, it was like electricity running through their veins. They were connected—alpha and omega—and this simple act of holding hands was enough to send a wave of relief through both of them.

“I don’t think you need to apologize either, Channie,” Y/N said, her voice more stable now, though still laced with sadness. “I think we both went through mentally and physically draining situations. I just... I can’t help but ask the Moon Goddess why. But I know she will have answers. I want to move forward. I want to put this behind us.” She paused, her chest tightening with emotion as she struggled to speak through her sobs. “I want to be a part of the pack again. I want to be normal.”

Chan pulled her into his arms, wrapping his strong arms around her as he held her close. He hoped she would let him, he hoped she would feel the comfort in his embrace. “I understand, my love. I ask the Moon Goddess every day why... but all I want is for you to heal. To feel better. I don’t want you to rush into anything, though. It gets overwhelming, but I’m right here. I promise.” He kissed her temple gently, letting the warmth of his affection seep into her.

Y/N buried her face in his chest, tears soaking into his shirt. “I’m sorry about losing the pup, Channie.” She choked on her sobs, her words trembling with grief. “I tried to protect her. I tried to shield her from it all, but they just... they kept going.”

Chan’s heart shattered hearing her cry like this. He gently cupped both sides of her face, his thumbs brushing away her tears. His voice was firm and full of love. “Baby, I will never blame you for that. Do you hear me? Never. It was not your fault. I know it hurts, but I pray you’ll understand that.”

Y/N’s heart was breaking, but she nodded, pressing closer to him. “I just... I just know it’ll be heavy to get past. I don’t think I’ll love another pup the way I loved her. She was our first…” She trailed off, her voice lost in the depth of her sorrow.

Chan held her tighter, his heart aching for her. “Time will heal us, my love. Everything will get better. I promise. We’ll get through this together.”

Y/N wiped the tears from his face as she pulled back slightly, her scent calming, though still tinged with sadness. She gave him a small, tender smile. “Thank you... for being here. For loving me through all of this.”

Chan smiled back, his eyes filled with devotion and hope for the future. “I’ll always be here, Y/N. No matter what.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Chan finally felt like he could breathe again. After everything they’d been through, after the pain, the misunderstandings, and the distance—he had finally reconnected with his luna. They had talked it all out, and in that moment, something inside him shifted. The weight he’d carried for so long—worry, guilt, fear—began to lift. He no longer feared that she might hate him, or that the rift between them would be impossible to mend.

He could finally sleep tonight, he thought, with peace in his heart.

His hand moved gently to trace circles on her arm, the motion soothing both of them. He didn’t know how long they’d been lying there, but it felt like time had slowed, like nothing else existed in the world but the quiet warmth of her presence.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His heart pounded in his chest, the words carrying everything he hadn’t been able to say before.

Y/N turned to him, her eyes soft and full of tenderness, her expression mirroring his. “I love you too, my love.” Her voice was steady, but there was a catch in it—a vulnerability that made Chan’s chest tighten with affection.

And then, in that quiet, intimate space between them, Chan’s eyes welled up with tears.

All the anger, the frustration, the guilt, and the sadness that had consumed him for so long seemed to melt away in a single moment. With Y/N’s love, with her forgiveness, all the heavy emotions that had weighed down on him for so long evaporated.

She was back in his arms—officially—and nothing in the world could have felt more right.

Chan felt her warmth against him, her heartbeat steady and calm, and he realized with a deep breath that he would do whatever it took to help her grieve, to help her heal. He wasn’t going anywhere.

He wasn’t going to lose her again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: i think its time to end this mini series guysss >_<

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[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Reunion - Falling

Masterlist

Pairing: Dick Grayson x (f)reader

Tags: NSFW, miscommunication, hate sex, crying, angst, misunderstanding,

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》You and Dick have fallen into the rhythm of best friends.

He's been careful, though - didn't push things too far, especially after what happened between you two in the past.

Still, there were moments that messed with him. Like seeing other men try to flirt with you or being out in the club and overhearing you with some random guy in the bathroom. Hearing your laughter, become moans and whimpers. Every sound felt like a mini punch to his gut.

He he would unconsciously clench his hands into fists, fighting the urge to storm in and pull the creeps away from you. He’d give anything to just walk up to you and shut it down. But he knew better; he had no right to feel this way.

Tonight felt different.

It was late, and you were at his place, gathered with the rest of your mutual friends. There were half-eaten bags of chips, and beer cans scattered around the coffee table. The living room was warm, almost too warm with everyone packed in, and you were all flushed, hair sticking a little to your forehead from the effort of trying to beat each other on Mortal Combat.

“Aaaand that’s how it’s done.” Dick leaned back, grinning wide as he popped another chip into his mouth.

"God, seriously?" Your friend friend Anna groaned, tossing you the controller in defeat. "Please, show this man up."

You took the controller, making a show of cracking your neck to orepare yourself. "Alright, prepare to lose, little boy."

Dick’s eyebrow quirked as he gave you this smug look. "Think you can beat me, little girl?"

You smirked back, already selecting your character. "I know I can."

The first round kicked off, and you were on it. Fingers moving fast, you took him down easy, shooting him a wink.

He got the upper hand in round two, smirking right back at you.

By round three, it was on. Both of you were focused, neither willing to accept defeat. You stretched the game out longer than necessary. Then - out of nowhere - you felt a quick jab at your side. You jumped, letting out a surprised yelp as you glanced down to see his fingers pulling back from your hip.

"Dick!"

"What?" he asked innocently. His eyes were still on the screen, but his grin was out too.

Before you could say anything, he did it again - a quick poke that had you biting back a laugh, trying to keep control of the controller. "Quit it - "

Another jab.

You were cracking up, barely able to hold the controller, so you turned and went for revenge, tickling him back.

He let out a deep laugh, his eyes squinting as he smiled, and before long, a tickle war broke out, both of you abandoned the game completely.

Somehow, you ended up straddling his lap, both of you breathless and grinning like idiots. His arm stayed loosely around you, keeping you from tipping over.

"Do you want us to leave the room?" Tony cleared his throat from the couch, his brows quircked up.

Your eyes widened as you caught yourself, and scrambled off his lap, cheeks burning. But his hands settled on your hips, holding you in place just long enough for your gaze to meet his. There was a hint of something in his eyes that you couldn't quite read.

Unbeknownst to you, this is the happiest Dick felt in... a while.

You swallowed hard, tearing your eyes away and forcing a laugh as you climbed off him. "Uh… sorry."

Dick cleared his throat. "No, you’re good."

You stood up, smoothing out your dress and sweater. "Does anyone want something from the kitchen?" You asked the group.

"Just some paper towels." Anna asked.

You nodded and walked out of the living room. Heading into the kitchen, you grabbed a glass of water, taking a long sip to steady your nerves.

"Alright, Dicky." You heared your friends begin to pack up. "It’s been fun, man, but we gotta go."

Leaving the glass in the sink, you made your way back. But just as you were about to step back into the living room, a hand gently wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

You turned, and there he was, blue eyes locked on yours with a deep intensity. His hand slid slowly up your arm until he cupped your jaw, his fingers warm against your skin. The front door shut, and your friends' voices faded. It was just the two of you now.

He hesitated, lowering his face until he was hovering just an inch from your lips, close enough that you could feel his breath. Your gaze fell to his mouth, heartbeat hammering in your chest.

“Don’t go,” he whispered, barely audible, his voice carrying a rawness that catches you off guard.

The vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache. Without thinking, you rose onto your tiptoes, your lips pressing softly against his.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

Dick wanted to pick you up in his arms and spin you around. That kiss, that perfect kiss felt like a breath of fresh air, like the whole world had narrowed down to just this moment.

But then you pulled back. "Dick, wait i," you breathed, your hands coming up to his chest. God, your scent, your beathy voice, your warmth. He could listen to you speak his name again and again... if he could only stay this close to you forever.

His skin cried for your warmth as you stepped back timidly. Worry crept into your gaze. "I can’t do casual with you. It’s… different."

He lowered his gaze, stepping closer, hands braced on either side of your head against the wall, eyes shadowed with something like regret.

"I get it," he says, his voice hollow. "But I can’t promise you more."

If he wasn't sure before, he was certain after Christmas Eve. He wasn't worthy and wasn't responsible enough to protect everyone. That included you.

You swallowed, feeling a familiar pang in your chest you'd promised yourself you'd avoid. "Why not?"

He closes his eyes, shaking his head. "It’s… complicated." His hand brushes your nape, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Dicky…" You cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. Up close, you noticed the weariness in his eyes, the faint creases of stress around them. "What happened?" You whispered. "Talk to me. We can fix it."

"No," He shook his head, his expression conflicted. "We can’t," he said, voice tinged with sorrow. "It’s not that simple."

A silence stretched between you before he confessed, "I just… I just want to forget."

Without thinking, you murmmered, "Then do it."

He blined at you. “What?”

You nodded, swallowing down the tightness in your throat. "If… if it helps you forget, then… use me."

His face contorted, somewhere between frustration and disbelief. "Sweetheart, no, you’ve got it all wrong -"

"It’s okay." You nodded, trying to hold on to your composure. "I want to help you… however I can."

"This isn’t what I wanted," he whispers, his face pained. "I don’t think of you like that."

Your laugh was bitter. "Spare me."

His expression shifted, a frown creasing his brow. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, Dicky." You rolled your eyes, feeling a spark of anger rising. "I give up. You win."

"Win?" He asked, tone incredulous. "What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, congratulations." You said. "I mean, pity’s a pretty creative way to get someone in bed.” You crossed your arms. "But hey, it worked. You’re a good actor."

Before you could blink, his hand wrapped around your throat, gently but firmly, his eyes burning with hurt. "Pity?" he asked, disbelief thick in his voice. "I was being sincere."

You scoffed. "Right, and you just happened to pull out some tragic sob story to convince me."

He growled, the sound low and angry. "You were more than willing to be ‘used’ a second ago. Didn’t take much convincing."

"Yeah, well." You felt the anger simmering beneath the surface, almost boiling over. "You’re good at sex, and I’m bored. So, what do I have to lose?"

His eyes narrow. "When did you become such a-"

“Bitch?” you snapped. “Probably around the time you hooked up with someone else a day after being with me.”

He rolled his eyes. "It wasn’t a day after-"

“Doesn't matter.” You threw your hands up before crossing them in front of you. “Are we doing this, or not? Because I’m losing interest.”

The insult hung in the air, sharp and tense.

And just like that, something in his mind snapped. All of the worries of the past month came crushing down on him. His harsh training, his sleepless nights filled patrols, his rigurous studies, his dramatic family, and now you with your smart mouth. After a minute of heated silence which he used to calm his breathing, he quietly said. "Strip."

You swallowed. You felt angry and betrayed but at the same time couldn't help follow his command, cowering at the heat in his gaze. This whole situation messed with your mind.

Slowly, your hands rose to lift up your sweater, discarding in onto his floor behind you, leaving you in a frilly, soft white dress. Before you could get your hands in the material, his hand reached out to grab yours and pull you into his bedroom. Not a moment passed before you were pushed onto the bed.

"Pretty," he muttered, eyeing the white material of your dress as it slid up your thighs. "You like this dress?"

You raised a brow. "... yes why-"

"I dont." He's seen you wear that dress enough times to the bar. Seen frat boys drool as they oggled you in that dress. It had a doll like, innocent appearance to it. Held a promise of submissiveness. But the way you were speaking to him now revealed the real you. Revealed the dress was a fucking lie. And if you wanted to be treated like a doll, all you had to do was ask.

You gasped when he tore the hem of your skirt up to your neckline.

Mouth agape, you stared wide-eyed at the damage. The wide tear left your bare skin on display, the only coverage provided by your pink bra and panties. You swore you heard him mutter. "Lucky me, a matching set..." Under his breath.

You grinded your teeth together, half with anger, and half with... you weren't sure.

You really did like that dress. Partpy because of the looks wearing it earned you from everyone - him included.

Your angry gaze shifted back up to his. Dick wore a smug expression on his face.

You huffed, "When did you become sunch an-"

"Asshole?" He supplied calmly, raising a brow. "Probably sometime around when I 'hooked up with someone a day after being with you'." Shooting your own words back at you.

You opened your mouth to retort that it was actually much earlier than that, but he grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him to the edge of the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor before climbing up on top of you slowly. You caged my muscle from your sides and from above. And you couldn't help but be distracted by ridges of scars and marks lining up his skin, wondering - not for the first time - where they came from. You felt like a deer in headlights being approached by him in this state, and you couldn't fight the way your breath grew shallow as your pulse spiked.

"So that's it? Not even gonna prep me?" You hated how out of breath your voice sounded with the question.

"Do you need it?" He deadpanned. "After the forplay session we just had?"

"What forplay-" Your protest caught in your throat, exchanged for a whimper when his finger pushed aside your panties and slid into you with ease.

He groaned, closing his eyes and biting his lip. You watched with envy, wanting to be the one to bite it instead.

"Oh baby," He muttered darkly, lining himself up against your entrance and sliding into you in one swift motion. "Does arguing with me turn you on?"

You tried to bite back your moans, but he used his finger to spread his slick across your folds. It rose to rub your sensitive clit as he entered you slowly, again and again.

Your back arched against the bed as you tried and failed to hodl back those desperatenoises.

"Answer me." He ordered.

"No," you moaned, but neither of you were convinced.

"Liar." He exhaled as he thrusted into you, frustration mingling with annoyance in his expression. "I wonder, when all those pretty boys from the bars take you home, do they make you as wet as I do?"

You resisted the urge to slap him because, unfortunately, he was right. "Can you hurry up already? Im about to fall asleep" Was all you said instead.

Dick laughed. You thought you were sleeping tonight. That's cute.

Your jab was his response. "Didn't think so," he said with a grin you could only describe as evil.

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》

A couple more orgasms later, the two of you were exhausted, panting into each other's mouths as he continued fucking you. His movements had grown sloppy, but he still hit the right spots that made your flex to chase that high.

In another attempt to be condescending, he huffed. "Thanks for letting me use you, babe." As his fingers relentlessly rubbed your clit.

Your hands grasped at the sheets as the orgasm built up in your belly. But you weren't too far gone to throw a jab of your own. "Be sure to thank the next one tomorrow, too."

Dick’s jaw muscles flexed, and you knew you hit a nerve."I’m sorry if my ‘lifestyle’ doesn’t fit your precious worldview."

He was hitting every spot, and his fingers only added to the overstimulation. As your body shook with your nth orgasm, your mind flooded with thoughts of him with other girls, thoughts of him moving on, forgetting you exist. With the snap of his fingers. Forshadowing what was to come.

You shook your head, biting back the sting of tears. “No, you’re not.”

Then, as if to drive the point home, he cupped your face and leaned down to deliver an earth-shattering, heartbreaking kiss.

You pulled apart, your breathing coming down. Your need to pass out was hard to resist, your mind clouding eith exhastion, but the need to leave was stronger.

Turning away from him, you slid out from under him, not daring let him see your tears.

Not saying another word, you slipped on your torn dress, followed by your fiscarded sweater, then your coat. You stormed out of his apartment before either of you uttered another word.

[oshinohoshi]

Oshi no Ko chapter 166 thoughts - the end of all things

So uh... the only positive thing I can say here besides the beautiful Ai art is that I felt sad reading the page where Miyako was hugging Ruby. Everything else left me completely empty

This chapter is either:

A) A self-aware ending meant to show that life is suffering and the idol industry will suck out your soul if you let it

B) Outsourced to someone who skimmed OnK for 30 seconds on Wikipedia before putting pen to paper

It has to be A, right? You can't tell me that the same author wrote both of these pages without the right being ironic

But I don't think so because big brained Akane is the one clumsily narrating this crappy montage masquerading as a real ending

Aqua died for nothing. His sister is now a soulless cog in the idol machine

Ruby is mimicking Ai's speech - "Lies are an outstanding kind of love... We pile on the lies and no matter how hard things get, we sing and act happy onstage. It's a fun job!" But she forgot the rest of it: "Only, I'd like the 'being happy' part to be real. Nobody notices, but we have hearts and lives of our own. Happiness as a mother. Happiness as an idol. Normally you'd have to pick one, but I want both. Ai Hoshino is a greedy girl"

Ai wasn't only a misunderstood girl who worked hard to please her fans. That was a big part of her story but she also broke the rules to create her own family, her own happiness

Ruby, on the other hand, seems to have no real desires anymore, she's just following a path she believes her mother and Aqua paved for her. Never mind that Aqua only wanted it in the end because she wanted it and Ai just wanted her kids to be happy

You can tell that Akasaka is patting himself on the back for making a cyclical narrative where Ruby becomes Ai 2.0 by being commodified, scrutinized, and idolized like Ai was

But it's such a flimsy parallel when it comes to the theme of lies because lying to hide your grief =/= "lies are love" which was the only way Ai knew how to frame her genuine desire to love

And Ai's "I love you" to her kids was true whereas Ruby has swallowed her own lie that being an idol is fun even when you're just doing it to outrun your pain

What this chapter showed us is that the meaning of Ruby's life is to be Ruby of B Komachi and she was put on Earth to sing pop songs. Because that's what Ai did, right? If I remember correctly, her final words were "I'm so glad I got to be an idol #blessed"

My God was the Dome concert soulless. Miyako and Ichigo crying happy tears is a punch to the gut. Doesn't Miyako know her daughter is still hurting?

The last scene is so fucking depressing

Ruby, are you okay? Blink twice if you still remember your life outside the idol industry!

The last two pages work really well as horror. She has a brilliant smile but you can tell that she's dead inside. She's got more merch on her table than photos. Why doesn't she have a corkboard of family photos? Although I more or less have this Ai plushie and it's pretty cute so I'll give this a pass because it's hilarious

I guess the takeaway here is to live for others and life is painful so just grin and bear it. Oh yeah, and inspire other young women to join an industry where they get to act happy and lose their humanity. Cool

I mean I get that it's supposed to be about moving on with your life even while grieving and that's a good message, sure, but Aka's insistence on using the word "lies" multiple times as if saying it makes it make sense ruins the whole thing

The most insane part is that this chapter is a wholehearted endorsement of the lies sold by the entertainment/idol industry

I haven't even said anything about anyone besides Ruby because what's the point? Aka didn't have time to do justice to any of the characters I grew to love

It's clear something went wrong with the timeline of wrapping up OnK. No artist wants to execute a final chapter like this. I'm convinced the film reel edges are Aka and Mengo's way of telling the reader, "we know this is a shitty clips show so don't @ us on Twitter about it"

But it's so much worse than that. Aka really decided to tear to shreds everything he worked so hard on for 4 years. Damn

This is my favorite manga and I'll always love that it gave me Ai, my most beloved character of all time, but this leaves an extremely bitter aftertaste. It's really hard to believe that the same person who wrote vol 1 wrote this.

OnK has been pretty important to me. Reading weekly, chatting with fans, and reaching dangerous levels of Ai brain rot has actually been a helpful distraction. TBH I've been a little too invested in it but sometimes you need escapism. So it's crazy that I'm kind of glad it's over.

But this is why fanfic, fanart, and your own headcanons exist. In another universe, this manga wrapped up beautifully and I was depressed for weeks because I couldn't look forward to it anymore. In this universe, at least we're all suffering together here at the end of all things.

And at least the little Hoshino family is still adorable. Too bad Ai is dead, Aqua is dead, and Ruby desperately needs grief counseling. But NEVER MIND. Look at Ai's smile and the twins' faces. This was the Oshi no Ko I really loved.

[endofthelinepal107]

baby daddy toji drabbles

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

baby daddy toji who didn't react well when you told him you were pregnant. you were expecting it, so it didn't hurt as much as it could have, but it was still a punch in the gut. most of your relationship had been more just messing around, so you knew what kind of guy toji was. you just hadn't anticipated the cool look on his face when he listened to your news and then made a small, hurtful correction. 'nah, you're having a baby, not us.'

baby daddy toji who you expected nothing from. you told him firmly that you were keeping the baby, and that you were only telling him as a courtesy. after that, you expected nothing: no money, no co-parenting, no contact, nothing. you didn't want it, not from him. you could do it better on your own.

baby daddy toji who went without seeing his son for five whole years. he missed the birth of his one and only child, missed out on seeing the adorable baby and toddler stages. but, when he was five, megumi asked to meet his father. you had never lied to your son about who his father was, and so when he asked that question, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny him.

baby daddy toji who was predictably hard to track down. once you eventually managed to get into contact with shiu kong, you found out that toji was in prison, and had been for the majority of megumi's life. you told megumi and asked him if he still wanted to meet his father. when he said yes, you steeled yourself and organised a visit.

baby daddy toji who hadn't expected to feel so stricken when he saw you and megumi. he stared at his son, the little boy that was so undeniable his kid: unruly black hair, flat expression, paler skin than you had. he stared at you, holding his son on your lap, looking so much stronger and mature than when he'd said those cruel words and left you to it.

baby daddy toji who swallowed his pride to rasp two questions into the phone: what's the kid's name, and can i see you both again? he ignored the fact that your expression didn't change on the other side of the glass, and just appreciated that you replied: his name is megumi, and i can request another visit if you want to see him again.

baby daddy toji who thought about you and megumi for the weeks that it took before you were back in the visiting room. it had taken seeing the two of you right there in front of him to realise just what he'd fumbled. now he knew, he felt like a fucking idiot. he just hoped he could find a way to be a part of at least megumi's life, if not yours.

baby daddy toji who was patient and attentive enough with your son that you slowly believed that he was telling the truth about wanting to try again. megumi didn't trust him yet, but your son was always slow to warm up to people. he didn't dislike his father, and that was a good sign.

baby daddy toji who mustered up the courage after a few months of visits to ask you if he could meet up with you and megumi outside of the visiting room of the prison, while he was allowed out on parole. he watched your face with his usual blank expression, but his green eyes were shining with hidden anxiety. when you looked to megumi and the little boy nodded, toji let out a soft breath of relief.

baby daddy toji who deliberated where he would take you both for a long time. when the day came around, he picked the fairground. and, for a day, it was almost like you were a normal family. toji won prizes for megumi, went on rides with him, carried him when the kid got tired. and he didn't shy away from your watchful gaze, letting you read his intentions clear on his face.

baby daddy toji who couldn't hide his disappointment when his parole officer turned up and he had to go back to the prison. he looked so crestfallen that megumi looked up at you. toji was confused until you leaned forward with your son in your arms, your lips brushing one cheek while megumi pecked the other. toji blinked at both of you. then he cracked a rare smile. he ruffled megumi's hair, then pulled you back and kissed you on the mouth. it was a brief kiss, a cheeky one that he knew he didn't fully deserve. but, as he sat down in the car and saw you and megumi waving him off, toji resolved to be deserving of it eventually.

baby daddy toji who was a fucking idiot, but he tries to be better for you, and for his baby boy.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

[stylesispunk]

Silent strain | part iv

outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader

previous chapter | next chapter

summary: Time passes by and Joel still doesn't come back. The baby arrives and you feel lonely.

w.c: 10,5k

warnings: angst, mentions of birth, fluff, mentions of blood, not proofreading. Paragraphs in bold indicate flashbacks & paragraphs in cursive indicate journal entries. Reader cries a lot in this one, we didn't have a good week.

a/n: chapter four is here! Thank you to everyone who take their time to leave comments and share this story, which was supposed to be only 3 chapters but became longer. I hope you like this one. Reblogs and comments are appreciated. Happy reading. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Since you had met Joel, this was the first time you had ever been in a room without him. You were surrounding by walls in a safe place that it was foreign for you, sitting alone on the edge of a bed that you had just shared with Joel the night prior, now feeling impossibly lonely without him around. The weight hit you all at once, the quiet, the loneliness, the reality that Joel had left and you didn’t know if him and Ellie would be alright.

The weight of it hit you all at once, the quiet, the loneliness, the overwhelming reality that Joel had left. That you didn’t know if he and Ellie were alright. If they ever would be. A tight knot formed in your chest, pulling tighter with each passing minute.

Your mind raced, thoughts of where Joel might be gnawing at you. Were they already on the road? Were they safe? Had they run into trouble? You tried to push the thoughts away, tried to convince yourself they were fine, that Joel would protect Ellie like he always had. But the fear lingered, gnawing at you in the quiet of the room.

You stood abruptly, the need to do something, anything, to shake off the growing anxiety driving you to your feet. Pacing around the bedroom, your hands trembled slightly as you ran them through your hair, trying to think, trying to breathe through the tightening in your chest.

But no matter how hard you tried; the worry wouldn’t leave. Each time you circled the room, it felt as though the walls were closing in a little more, trapping you in this unbearable uncertainty.

And then, as you turned again, your eyes landed on something that stopped you cold.

There, on the chair by the window, was Joel’s shirt. Not just any shirt—his favorite one, the one he always wore, the one that had become your favorite too. The sight of it hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath from your lungs. You stepped closer, almost as if in a trance, and your trembling fingers reached out to touch the fabric.

The scent of him still lingered in the material, that familiar mix of worn cotton, faint sweat, and the earthy scent that was unmistakably Joel. The tears that had been building in your chest all day finally broke free, spilling down your cheeks as you clutched the shirt in your hands.

Life in the QZ didn’t leave much room for joy. Every day was a struggle, ration cards barely covering enough food, let alone anything extra. But you had managed to save up just enough to get him something special.

The shirt.

You had seen it hanging in the back of a small booth during one of your shifts at the QZ market. It wasn’t much—faded, a little worn—but it had a softness to it that you thought Joel might appreciate. He never said it out loud, but you could tell his clothes were becoming threadbare, the weight of the world making even the little comforts seem unattainable. You wanted to change that, even in a small way.

The look on his face when you handed it to him had been one of complete confusion, like he didn’t quite know what to do with kindness anymore.

“Why’d you get me this?” Joel had asked, his brow furrowing as he held up the shirt, inspecting it like he thought there was some kind of catch.

You shrugged, trying to play it off casually, but your heart was pounding in your chest. “I just… thought you could use something new. You’ve been wearing the same damn thing since I met you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips, but his eyes were still guarded, suspicious. “You used your rations for this?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice a little softer, more vulnerable than you intended. “It’s no big deal. Just… thought you deserved something nice.”

Joel stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. You could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the shirt like he was afraid to accept it, afraid of what it meant. His gaze flickered to yours, and you saw something there, unreadable.

“Why’re you doing this for me?” he asked quietly, his voice rough, almost accusing, as if he couldn’t believe that someone would care about him enough to make such a gesture.

You took a step closer, your heart hammering in your chest. “Because I want to, Joel. Because you matter to me.”

His eyes darkened, the weight of your words settling between you like a heavy fog. You could see the battle he was waging within himself, the walls he had built so high, trying to protect himself from feeling anything. But the look in his eyes softened, if only for a moment, and something shifted.

Before you could say anything else, before you even had a chance to breathe, he stepped forward, closing the space between you. His hand cupped the back of your neck, rough but gentle, and then his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t soft or slow. It was raw, desperate, as if he had been holding himself back for far too long. The kiss stole the air from your lungs, a surge of warmth flooding through you. He kissed you like he needed it, like he couldn’t hold back anymore, and in that moment, you knew that this was more than just a Kiss, it was the first crack in his armor.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Neither could you.

“You shouldn’t be wastin’ rations on me,” he muttered, but his voice was softer now, almost tender.

You smiled, your hands still clutching the fabric of his shirt. “Not a waste. Not at all.”

Joel’s lips twitched, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw a small, real smile.

From that moment on, the shirt had become his favorite. He wore it often, and every time he did, it reminded you of that day, of the first time he had let you in.

From that moment on, you had become the most precious thing he had in the world.”

Tears blurred your vision as you sobbed into the fabric, holding onto it as if it were him, as if it could somehow bring him back. The ache in your heart was unbearable, the reality of his absence crashing over you like a tidal wave.

You whispered his name through your tears, wondering where he was, if he was thinking of you too. If he missed you, and of course he did, you thought. But what was really eating you was his safety. The fear clawed at you, the unknown hanging over you like a dark cloud.

"Please come back," you whispered to the empty room, your voice breaking. But the only answer was the silence, the vast, aching silence that now filled the space Joel had left behind.

+

At the same time, miles away, Joel lay on the cold floor of an abandoned house, his body limp, covered in sweat and blood. His breath came in ragged gasps, barely enough to keep him conscious. The world around him blurred, the edges of his vision darkening as pain coursed through his body. His grip on reality was slipping, but one thing remained constant in his mind: you.

He tried to focus, tried to stay awake, but it was getting harder. The wound in his side throbbed with every shallow breath, blood seeping through his clothes and pooling beneath him. The searing pain was relentless, but what hurt more was the thought of you, alone, without him.

Ellie was beside him, frantically trying to stop the bleeding, her hands shaking as she applied pressure to his wound. "Joel, stay with me," she pleaded, her voice trembling.

Joel’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, his gaze unfocused. He could hear her voice, but it felt distant, muffled, like she was speaking through water. His thoughts drifted to you—how you had always been the one to keep him grounded, to remind him there was something worth fighting for.

He thought of your smile, the way your eyes would light up when you laughed. He thought of the shirt you'd given him back in the QZ, how he hadn’t understood why someone like you would care for someone like him. He thought of the nights you spent together, wrapped in each other’s arms, and how your belly had grown your baby inside.

The thought of not having the chance of meeting his baby was pulling the string to life now.

"Joel, stay with me!" Ellie’s voice broke through the fog again, more urgent this time. She was crying now, her hands stained red as she tried to keep him alive. She had seen too much death, lost too many people, and she couldn’t lose him too. Not now.

Joel’s breath hitched as his body fought to stay conscious. He thought of you one last time, of the child growing inside you, the life he had left behind to protect Ellie. He had made a choice, but now, as the darkness threatened to pull him under, all he could think about was getting back to you.

His hand twitched, reaching for something—anything to hold on to—but all he felt was the cold, hard floor beneath him. His eyelids grew heavier, his body weaker, but somewhere deep inside, he clung to the hope that he would see you again. That he would make it back to you.

"Please," he whispered, though it was barely audible. He wasn’t sure if he was begging Ellie to save him or if it was a prayer to the universe to bring him back to you.

Ellie’s hands didn’t stop, her desperation fueling her as she fought to keep him alive. "I won’t let you die," she swore, her voice raw with emotion. "I won’t."

But as Joel’s world faded to black, the only thing on his mind was you, and the sound of your voice, the warmth of your touch, everything that had kept him going. The thought of you was his last tether to the world, the only thing he could hold onto in the darkness.

And then, there was nothing.

you stirred awake to the soft light filtering through the window, your body still heavy with exhaustion and the weight of your sorrow. Your fingers tightened around the fabric of Joel’s shirt, the scent of him lingering in the fibers, a bittersweet reminder of his absence.

A gentle knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts, the sound echoing in the quiet room. You sat up slowly, wiping the remnants of tears from your cheeks, the reality of the past few days crashing back over you like a wave. “Come in,” you called, your voice hoarse from crying.

The door creaked open, revealing Tommy standing in the doorway, a worried expression etched across his face. “Hey,” he said softly, stepping into the room. “I thought I’d check on you.”

You forced a small smile, but it felt fragile, like it might shatter at any moment. “I’m okay,” you lied, though the truth hung heavily in the air between you.

Tommy’s gaze fell to the shirt in your hands, his expression shifting to one of understanding. “You miss him,” he stated rather than asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, the tears welling up again, and you quickly blinked them away. “Of course I miss him. And I don’t know if he is okay.”

Tommy moved closer, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I wish I could tell you he is. But… we’ve been through a lot, and sometimes, we have to trust that they’ll come back to us.”

His words brought some comfort, but it was fleeting. “What if he doesn’t?” you whispered. “What if he and Ellie are hurt?”

You wanted to believe him, to cling to that hope, but the uncertainty gnawed at you. “I just want him back,” you admitted, the ache in your heart making your voice crack. “I want them both back, we were supposed to be a family.”

Tommy’s expression softened; the concern etched on his face deepening. “I know,” he replied, his voice steady. “You’re right. You three are a family, and it’s not fair for you to feel this way.”

The raw emotion in your words hung heavy in the air. You could feel the tears welling up again, threatening to spill over. “It just feels so empty without him.”

He nodded in understanding, his gaze unwavering. “Joel’s a fighter, and so are you. Just hold on to that. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that hope can keep us going even when things seem dark.”

“But what if hope isn’t enough?” you asked, frustration creeping into your voice. “What if he’s out there, and I’m just stuck here waiting?”

Tommy sighed, leaning forward slightly. “You’re not just waiting. You’re doing something important right now by taking care of yourself and that baby. Joel would want you to stay safe and strong. You’re both his world.”

His words made you pause. You had been so consumed with worry that you hadn’t allowed yourself to consider what Joel would want for you, for the baby. You needed to honor his love by taking care of yourself, even if it felt impossible at the moment.

“I know you’re right,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “It’s just hard to think of anything else when all I want is to be with him.”

Tommy reached over, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, you have to keep yourself strong for my baby nephew or niece there” he said pointing at your belly, “And I heard that there is a delicious breakfast waiting for you at my house.”

A small smile broke through your sadness at Tommy's words. The thought of food, especially something delicious, made your stomach rumble. “Breakfast, huh?” you said, attempting to lighten the mood. “Is it worth the trek over there?”

Tommy chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. “You bet it is. Maria’s been in the kitchen since sunrise, whipping up all sorts of goodies. You can’t say no to her pancakes.”

The mention of Maria made your heart feel a little lighter. She always had a way of brightening your day, and the thought of spending time with her and Tommy brought a hint of normalcy back into your chaotic world. “Alright, I guess I can be tempted by pancakes,” you said, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath. “Just give me a moment to get ready.”

As you stood up and moved towards the small mirror on the wall, Tommy turned to leave, but not before he added, “And remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re all here for you, and Joel will come back. You have to believe that.”

You nodded, feeling the flicker of hope ignite once more within you. “I will, Tommy. Thank you.”

As the weeks passed, life in Jackson continued to move forward, albeit without Joel. You immersed yourself in the routine of the community, trying to find solace in the familiar faces and daily activities. However, your heart remained tethered to the memories of him, each thought a bittersweet reminder of what was lost.

Paul’s presence became more pronounced during this time. His visits were frequent, and he often lingered a bit longer than necessary, his laughter ringing through your home, filling the silence left by Joel. At first, you welcomed his company, finding comfort in his kindness, but gradually you began to notice the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his touch was a little too warm, a little too intentional.

You were oblivious to his growing intentions, too consumed by thoughts of Joel. Every time Paul made a gesture that hinted at something more—like the way he’d offer to carry things for you or the way his smile seemed to brighten when he caught your eye—you brushed it off as friendly camaraderie.

But in the quiet moments, especially as your pregnancy progressed, you couldn’t help but wonder what Joel would say or do. You often imagined him here, by your side, offering his protective presence and the warmth of his love.

One afternoon, while you were resting on the porch, Paul joined you, bringing along a small basket of fruit. “Thought you might like a snack,” he said, settling down beside you. “You’ve got to keep your strength up.”

“Thanks, Paul,” you replied, taking a piece of fruit and munching on it absentmindedly. Your mind drifted, imagining Joel’s voice teasing you about how much you were eating, and you couldn’t suppress a smile at the thought.

Paul watched you, his expression softening as he leaned a bit closer. “You know,” he started, hesitating for a moment as if weighing his words. “You’re pretty amazing. I admire how strong you are, going through all this without—”

“Without Joel?” you interjected gently, your heart clenching at the mention of his name. “I don’t really feel strong. I just… I’m doing what I have to do.”

Paul nodded, a hint of disappointment flickering across his face, but he quickly masked it with a smile. “Right. Just know I’m here for you, okay? Whatever you need.”

You offered him a grateful smile, but inside, the ache for Joel was relentless. You wanted to believe that everything would be okay, that Joel would come back, and that you could return to the life you had built together. But every passing day made the reality of that hope feel more distant.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow across the horizon, you felt the familiar pang of loneliness creeping back in. You were in Jackson, surrounded by people, yet the emptiness inside you was profound. No amount of comfort from Paul could fill the void that Joel had left behind.

February 15

It’s been weeks since Joel left, and I’m still struggling to accept it. I find myself waking up each morning, hoping that it was all just a nightmare, but the empty side of the bed reminds me of the truth. I miss him more than I can put into words.

Tommy and Maria have been amazing, and I’m grateful for their support. They try to keep me distracted, to make me feel like I’m not alone, but the truth is that every moment feels heavy without him here. Even the laughter we share feels tinged with sadness. I want to be strong, for my baby and for Joel, but some days, it feels like an impossible task.

And then there’s Paul. He’s kind and thoughtful, and I can see that he cares about me. I appreciate everything he does, but it feels wrong to let myself lean on him. My heart belongs to Joel, and nothing will change that. I’m still waiting for him to come back, to hold me again and make everything feel right.

I can’t shake the fear that I might never see him again. What if something happened? What if he’s in pain? My heart aches with every unanswered question. I wish I could tell him that I love him, that I’m thinking of him every second of the day.

But then, I think of the baby. The baby needs me to be strong. I need to focus on keeping myself healthy for them, even when it feels like my heart is breaking. I can’t forget about them in the midst of all this pain.

I keep reminding myself that I’m not alone. I have Tommy and Maria, and even Paul, though it feels complicated sometimes. I just wish I could feel whole again.

As I sit here writing, holding onto this shirt of Joel's, I hope that wherever he is, he knows how much I love him. I hope he’s safe and that he’s thinking of me too. I’ll keep writing until he returns. It’s the only way I know how to keep our story alive.”

It was one of those quiet evenings when the weight of Joel's absence seemed unbearable. You hadn’t seen much of Tommy or Maria that day, and Dr. Paul had stopped by as usual. This time, though, he lingered longer, suggesting he bring you dinner to keep you company. You hesitated, but the idea of eating alone in the house that felt more like a stranger’s shelter than a home wore on you. So, reluctantly, you agreed.

The two of you sat across from each other at the small table, plates of food in front of you, but you barely touched yours. Paul, on the other hand, seemed relaxed, making light conversation about the community, about his work. You nodded along, offering small smiles, but your mind wandered, as it always did, back to Joel.

After a while, Paul cleared his throat, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between bites. His eyes lingered on you, a softness there that made you shift uncomfortably in your seat. "You know," he began, his voice gentle but carrying a certain weight, "you won’t be able to do this alone forever."

You furrowed your brows, not quite following. "What do you mean?"

Paul leaned forward slightly, his expression serious, yet warm. "Raising a baby... it’s not something you should have to handle on your own. You’ll need someone by your side. Someone who can help you, take care of you and the baby."

Your heart skipped a beat at the insinuation, and for a moment, the room felt too small. The air thickened as you stared at him, realization dawning slowly. He wasn’t just offering help out of kindness. There was something more to his visits, to his attentiveness, something you hadn’t seen until now.

You swallowed hard, a flash of anger mixing with the ache of missing Joel. You pushed your plate away, your appetite completely gone now. "Joel’s gonna get back," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "He’s coming back."

Paul blinked, taken aback by your response. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching yours as if trying to figure out how to respond. "I understand that you care for Joel," he said carefully, his tone measured, "but he left, didn’t he? He made a choice."

Your jaw tightened, defensive walls going up. "I don’t care about Joel. I love him. I’m in love with him. He’s doing what he has to. He’s coming back for us. I know it."

Paul’s gaze softened, but there was a flicker of something else behind his eyes—concern, perhaps, or frustration. “I just don’t want you to set yourself up for heartbreak. You deserve to have someone who’s here for you now, not just someone you hope will come back.”

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “You don’t know what we have, Paul. You don’t understand the bond we built, the things we’ve been through together.”

His expression shifted slightly, a mix of empathy and something you couldn’t quite place. “And I respect that. But you also need to think about your future—about your baby. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he’s...”

“Stop,” you interrupted, the word bursting from you like a shield. “Don’t say it. Don’t even think it. I won’t allow myself to entertain that thought. Joel will come back for us and before the baby arrives.”

The room fell into a tense silence, the only sounds coming from the gentle crackling of the fire in the corner and the distant hum of life outside. You could feel the weight of the unspoken hanging between you, a chasm created by the gulf of your differing hopes.

Paul opened his mouth, clearly torn on how to respond. “Look, I’m not trying to come between you two. I just—”

“I know,” you interjected, your voice calmer now, but still firm. “You care. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, for the baby. But my heart belongs to Joel, and it always will. It’s not fair to me or to him to act like that connection doesn’t exist just because he’s not here right now.”

Paul sighed, leaning back in his chair with a resigned expression. “Okay. I hear you. But just know that I’m here for you, no matter what. Whether it’s just as a friend or... more. Just think about it, alright?”

You nodded, though your heart felt heavy. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he wanted to help. But every time you thought of Joel, a warmth spread through you that no one else could replicate.

“Thanks, Paul,” you said quietly, forcing a small smile. “But I think you should go.”

Paul's face fell at your words, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features. The warmth that had been there moments before faded, replaced by a guarded expression. “I understand,” he replied softly, his voice steady despite the obvious hurt. “I just wanted to help you, to be there for you in any way I could.”

You felt a pang of guilt for turning him away, but you had to be firm. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, Paul. Really. But from now on, I think it’s best if we keep things more... professional. I need to focus on me and the baby right now. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

He nodded slowly, processing your words. “Of course. I can respect that,” he said, though the disappointment lingered in his eyes. “I’ll check on the baby and make sure you’re both doing okay, but I won’t push for anything more.”

“Thank you,” you said, relieved that he seemed to understand. “That’s all I need for now. Just someone who can help with check-ups and advice. No more dinners or flowers or anything like that. I need to keep my mind clear.”

Paul inhaled deeply, nodding again. “I get it. I really do. Just know that if you ever change your mind or need anything, I’m here.”

As he stood up to leave, the atmosphere in the room shifted, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging heavily in the air. You felt a mix of sadness and relief wash over you, knowing that you had made the right choice for your heart, but also recognizing the friendship that was slipping away.

“Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice softening again as he moved toward the door. “And take care of that little one. I’ll be around to check on you both.”

“Thanks, Paul,” you replied, forcing a smile even though your heart felt heavy. As he stepped outside, the door closing gently behind him, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

You stared at the empty chair where he had just sat, the silence of the room settling around you. The reality of your situation loomed large; you were alone in a world where you were still waiting for Joel, still holding onto hope. The ache of missing him was as familiar as the beating of your heart, a constant reminder that some connections could never truly be replaced.

As you turned your gaze back to the window, you let your thoughts drift once more to Joel, the warmth of his memory wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You closed your eyes and whispered his name, hoping with all your heart that he was safe, that he was thinking of you too, and that one day soon, he would return to fill the void in your life.

You were about to give birth and Joel would be here by then.

The day had finally arrived, but as you lay in the infirmary, the pain of contractions rippled through you, sharper than you could have imagined. Each wave of discomfort was accompanied by a fresh wave of disappointment and anger, emotions that seemed to swirl together in a chaotic dance within you.

You gripped the edge of the bed, trying to focus on your breathing, but it felt impossible to push away the nagging thought that Joel should have been there. This was a moment that deserved his presence, his strength. You had envisioned him by your side, his reassuring voice guiding you through the pain, just as he had done so many times before. But instead, you were alone, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and the sterile smell of antiseptic.

“Just breathe, you’re doing great,” Paul said, trying to offer comfort as he checked your progress. His voice was calm and steady, but it did little to soothe the tumult inside you. You could sense his concern, but all you could think about was Joel, his absence a heavy weight on your chest.

“Where is he?” you gasped, the question slipping from your lips, filled with a mix of desperation and fury. “He should be here! He promised... he would be back.” The words came out more like a plea, the frustration boiling beneath the surface as you fought against the pain.

Paul exchanged a worried glance with the Tommy and Marie before looking back at you. “I know you’re scared. But you need to focus on the baby right now. You can do this.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to focus on the here and now, but every wave of pain brought Joel’s face to your mind, and with it, a sharp pang of grief. Tommy’s hand was on yours, a steady, reassuring presence. “You’re doing great,” he murmured, though his voice sounded distant, almost muffled. “Just a little longer.”

You barely heard him, your thoughts swirling. The pressure built, and a cry escaped your lips as another contraction tore through you. Maria was on your other side, her face tight with worry. "Just breathe," she urged. "You're almost there."

You squeezed Tommy's hand harder, your nails digging into his skin, but he didn’t flinch. Finally, there was a moment of stillness, a pause in the storm of pain. You felt the baby slide free, and then there was a new sound, thin and high-pitched, cutting through the air, the cry of a newborn.

But instead of relief, a hollow feeling settled in your chest. Your breath hitched, and your eyes remained tightly shut, refusing to open, refusing to acknowledge what had just happened.

Maria moved quickly, wrapping the baby in a soft blanket, her eyes filled with tears as she turned to you. "It’s a girl," she whispered, her voice soft, almost reverent. "A beautiful, healthy girl."

You didn’t look. You couldn’t. “No,” you muttered, shaking your head weakly. “I… I don’t want to see her.”

Maria hesitated, a look of confusion flashing across her face. “But… she’s your baby,” she urged gently. "She's right here. She's perfect."

Tommy glanced at Maria, then back at you, a look of worry crossing his face. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper, “what’s going on? You’ve been waiting for this, for her. She’s your daughter.”

You felt a sob catch in your throat, the words clawing to get out. "I can’t… I can’t do this," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Not without him. I can't..."

The room fell into a heavy silence, Maria and Tommy exchanging a look filled with unspoken concern. Tommy’s face softened, his grip on your hand tightening. “He’ll come back,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “Joel will come back. You know he would never leave you like this… not for good.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. "He left," you murmured, your voice trembling. "He left, and I don't know if he’s ever coming back. I don’t know how to do this without him. I don’t want to… I can’t look at her."

Maria’s expression softened, and she gently handed the baby to a nearby nurse, who took the little girl away for a moment. "It’s okay,” Maria whispered, sitting closer to you. "It's okay to be scared. It's okay to feel lost."

Your chest tightened, a sob breaking free from your lips. “I just… I needed him to be here,” you confessed, your voice small and broken. “I needed him, and he’s gone.”

Tommy rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, his eyes filled with empathy. "I know," he said quietly. "I know it hurts. But you’re not alone, okay? We’re here, Maria and I… all of Jackson is here for you. And Joel… I believe he’ll come back. You have to believe that too."

You closed your eyes again, feeling the exhaustion settling over you like a heavy blanket. "I don’t know how to feel," you whispered, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

Tommy sighed, nodding slowly. “Take your time,” he murmured. “We’re not going anywhere. And when you’re ready… your little girl will be here, waiting for you.”

Maria reached out, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered softly. “And she needs her mom. But we’ll take care of her for now. We’ll make sure she’s safe. You don’t have to do this alone.”

You nodded, barely, a sense of numbness spreading through you. Somewhere, deep inside, you wanted to believe that Joel would walk through that door any second now, that he’d see his daughter, hold her, and everything would be okay.

But until then, all you could do was wait.

A few hours later, the room had quieted down, the dim light from a nearby lamp casting soft shadows on the walls. You felt a heavy exhaustion weighing down on you, a bone-deep tiredness that seemed to seep into every part of your being. The adrenaline from the birth had faded, leaving you with a hollow ache that was more emotional than physical.

The door creaked open, and you heard the footsteps before you saw him.

Paul stepped inside, a gentle smile on his face. “Hey there,” he said softly, his voice low to avoid startling you. “How are you holding up?”

You nodded slightly, trying to muster a smile despite the emotional weight in your heart. “I’m okay. Just... tired.”

He moved closer, clearing his throat, looking down at you with a polite but firm expression. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice low in the quiet room. “I know it’s been a lot, and you’re tired… but your baby girl needs to be fed.”

You turned your head away, staring at the wall, trying to ignore the tightening in your chest. You weren’t ready. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He took a step closer, his voice growing softer, almost coaxing. “She’s hungry. And the sooner you start, the better it’ll be for both of you. I know this is hard, but…” He hesitated, a slight frown creasing his brow. “She needs her mom.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling a spark of irritation at his words. "I can’t," you muttered, your voice barely a whisper. “Not now.”

He sighed, moving to the edge of the bed, his eyes searching your face for something, understanding, maybe. “Look, I get it,” he began, his tone more insistent. “But you can’t just leave her to starve. You’re all she has right now. You’re her whole world.”

You shot him a sharp glance, your frustration bubbling up. "I said no," you replied, your voice firmer this time. “Get someone else to feed her.”

Paul’s expression tightened, and he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "There isn't anyone else,” he pressed. “We don’t have a lot of resources here, and formula is limited. You have to do this, or she’ll suffer.”

The weight of his words hit you, but so did his tone. The way he seemed to be blaming you, as if it was your fault that you were too broken, too overwhelmed to even look at your own child.

Maria, who had been hovering nearby, stepped forward, placing a calming hand on the doctor’s arm. “Paul, give her a minute, okay?” she said softly but firmly. “She’s just been through a lot. Let’s give her some space.”

He nodded, reluctantly stepping back. "I’m just saying,” he muttered, his gaze flicking back to you. "She’s going to need her mother sooner rather than later."

He turned and left the room, his footsteps fading down the hallway. Maria watched him go, then turned back to you, her eyes filled with empathy. She reached out, gently squeezing your hand. “I know he can be a bit… pushy,” she said quietly, “but he’s right about one thing. She does need you.”

You swallowed hard, tears stinging your eyes again. “I just… I can’t face her, Maria,” you confessed, your voice breaking. “Not when I feel like this. Not without Joel.”

Maria nodded, understanding in her eyes. “I get it,” she whispered. “But you’re stronger than you think. And that little girl… she’s a part of you. And Joel, too.”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you felt the weight of them settle in your heart. You were afraid — of loving this child, of losing her, of losing another part of yourself if Joel never came back. But there was also a flicker of something else, something deep and primal — the instinct to protect, to care, to nurture.

“I’ll bring her in,” Maria offered gently, “just for a moment. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. Just… see her. That’s all.”

You hesitated, then slowly nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. Maria gave you a small smile, squeezing your hand again before leaving the room.

A few moments later, she returned with a tiny bundle in her arms. Your baby. So small, so fragile. The baby’s eyes were closed, her tiny mouth opening and closing in search of comfort.

Maria carefully placed her in your arms, and for the first time, you looked down at your daughter. Her face was so small, her skin so soft, and suddenly, without warning, a sob broke free from your chest. The sight of her, the feel of her warmth against you, tore through all the walls you’d built.

She was a piece of you. And a piece of Joel. And despite everything, despite the pain, the fear, the uncertainty, she was here, and she was yours.

You took a shaky breath, feeling the tears flow freely down your cheeks. “Hey, little one,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

The baby stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open for the briefest moment, and in that instant, you felt a small spark of something in your chest, a tiny flicker of love, a tiny piece of you.

"Hi, baby Rosie," you whispered softly, naming her after the flowers you’d always loved, the ones that somehow still managed to grow even in the worst conditions. The name felt right, like a promise of something beautiful amidst all the harshness. Rosie shifted slightly, her tiny fingers curling against your chest, and a small, tender smile broke through your tears.

Maria’s smile widened, a warm, proud light in her eyes. "That’s a beautiful name," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Rosie… it suits her."

Just then, Tommy stepped into the room, his footsteps soft but purposeful. His gaze fell on you, cradling Rosie in your arms, and his face softened into a gentle, almost surprised smile. "Well, look at that," he said quietly, moving closer, his eyes never leaving the small bundle in your arms. "That’s my niece."

He came to your side, glancing at Maria for a moment, then back to you. There was something in his expression — a mix of relief, pride, and a kind of cautious joy. He looked down at Rosie, and you could see his eyes glisten just a little. "She’s beautiful," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat.

You nodded, your own emotions swirling, a strange mix of overwhelming love and the lingering ache of uncertainty. “She is,” you agreed softly, glancing down at your daughter. “She’s so… tiny.”

Tommy chuckled, his smile growing wider. “Yeah, they start that way,” he teased gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before his hand lightly brushed Rosie’s head. “Hey there, Rosie,” he murmured. “You’re gonna be just fine. Got your mama right here… and your uncle Tommy, too.”

Maria moved closer, wrapping an arm around Tommy’s waist. “We’re all here,” she added, her voice soft but firm. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it. You’ve got us.”

You felt a wave of gratitude wash over you, grateful for their presence, their support, and their love. It didn’t erase the pain or the uncertainty, but it made it a little easier to bear. Holding Rosie closer, you allowed yourself to breathe, to feel the warmth of this moment, to hope — even just a little — that things might be okay.

Rosie let out a tiny yawn, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a small smile tugging at your lips. "Thank you," you whispered, glancing up at Tommy and Maria. "For being here… for everything."

Tommy gave a slight nod, his expression tender. "We're family," he replied simply. "That’s what we do."

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. Rosie began to fuss in your arms, her tiny mouth opening and closing, searching. You glanced at Maria, who gave you an encouraging nod. "It’s okay," she whispered. "She’s hungry."

You adjusted your position on the bed, feeling a mix of nervousness and instinct kicking in. As you began to unbutton your shirt to feed Rosie, you noticed Tommy standing awkwardly nearby, his eyes wide as he realized what was about to happen.

His face turned a shade redder, and he quickly looked away, trying to give you privacy. “Uh… yeah, I’ll just… I’ll, uh… step out,” he stammered, taking a step back toward the door. He paused for a moment, then added with a slight grin, “And don’t worry, I’ll never tell Joel I saw this.”

Maria burst out laughing at his awkwardness, shaking her head. “Oh, come on, Tommy. It’s just feeding a baby. You’ve seen worse.”

Tommy’s smile widened, though he kept his gaze firmly on the floor. "Yeah, but Joel’s my brother, and I don’t think he’d appreciate me having a front-row seat to… this," he muttered, his voice light with humor but his discomfort still clear.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, a bit of tension easing from your shoulders. “Thanks, Tommy,” you said, grateful for the attempt at levity in such a raw moment. “And yeah, maybe keep this one to yourself.”

Tommy gave you a playful salute. “You got it,” he said before slipping out of the room, leaving you with Maria and Rosie.

Maria moved closer, her smile warm and understanding. “You’re doing great,” she murmured. “And don’t mind Tommy. He’s just being… well, Tommy.”

You nodded, feeling a little more at ease. Rosie’s small movements brought your attention back to her, and you focused on the task at hand. You guided her to latch, feeling a mix of discomfort and wonder as she began to feed. For a moment, all the noise in your mind quieted, and there was just the steady rhythm of her tiny breaths, the rise and fall of your chest, and the warmth of her against you.

Maria watched with a soft smile, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding. "See?" she whispered. "You’ve got this."

You nodded slowly, a small, tentative smile forming on your lips. Maybe, just maybe, you did.

A month had passed since Rosie was born, and the world outside felt heavier than ever. Each day, you rose with the sun, cradling your baby and navigating the delicate balance of motherhood in a world that seemed intent on breaking you. But the absence of Joel loomed larger than any other burden. His absence echoed through the quiet of your days, a painful reminder of the love you’d lost amid the chaos.

As you paced the small living space, the walls felt like they were closing in on you. The gentle cooing of Rosie contrasted sharply with the storm brewing in your heart. Every time you glanced at her, you felt a pang of anger bubble up — anger at the universe for taking him from you, anger at yourself for being so vulnerable, and anger at the endless cycle of survival that left little room for hope.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, Rosie cradled against your chest, her tiny fingers clutching your shirt. She was so innocent, so unaware of the weight that pressed down on you. You fought back tears as you watched her, the small signs of growth reminding you of everything you wished could be different. It felt unfair that she had to grow up in this world without her father, without the love and protection he could provide.

A knock at the door jolted you from your thoughts. You looked over, half-expecting to see Joel standing there, but when you opened the door, it was Tommy. His face bore the lines of concern, but you couldn't muster the energy to reciprocate his warmth.

"Hey," he greeted softly, stepping inside and glancing at Rosie, who had fallen asleep against you. “She’s getting so big.”

You forced a smile, but it felt like a mask over the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Yeah," you said, your voice lacking its usual warmth. "She is."

Tommy shifted slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know it’s been tough… I can’t imagine what you’re feeling.”

You couldn’t hold back the anger any longer. “What I’m feeling? I’m feeling like a single mother in a godforsaken world with no sign of the man I love! He should be here with us, Tommy!” Your voice raised, the emotion pouring out like a floodgate unleashed.

“I know, and I’m so sorry,” he replied, his tone gentle but firm. “But we’re doing everything we can to find him. You have to believe that.”

You shook your head, stepping away from the door, feeling the walls close in even more. “What’s the point? What if he doesn’t come back? What if he never gets to meet Rosie? I can’t keep living in this limbo, waiting for something that might never happen.”

Tommy’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer. “You’re not alone, you know? Maria and I are here for you. We want to help however we can.”

You huffed, crossing your arms defensively. “Help? You can’t bring him back. No one can.” You paused. “Maria is carrying your child, Tommy. You must worry about her.”

“I do. And I also care for my niece and my sister-in-law” he answered.

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, but your frustration bubbled just below the surface. “That doesn’t change the fact that Joel should be here. He’s missing, and I can’t just sit back and pretend everything’s fine while you and Maria are about to become parents. It feels… unfair.”

Tommy’s expression grew serious. “I know it’s not easy, but you can’t push us away. We want to be here for you and Rosie. And just because Maria and I are starting a family doesn’t mean we care any less about you. We’re all in this together.”

You turned away, staring at the wall, feeling the weight of his words. Part of you wanted to reject his offer of support, to wallow in your pain and anger, but another part craved the connection and the reassurance that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as alone as you felt.

“Why can’t you just understand how hard this is for me?” you said, your voice trembling. “Every time I look at Rosie, I see everything I’ve lost. I can’t bear the thought of loving her and then losing her too.”

Tommy stepped closer, his voice lowering to a gentle tone. “You’re not going to lose her. And you’re not losing Joel either. He’s out there, and we’ll do everything we can to bring him back. But you have to let us help you through this. It’s okay to be scared, to feel overwhelmed. You don’t have to go through it all alone.”

You met his gaze, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was unwavering support. Taking a deep breath, you let the anger fade just a little, allowing the vulnerability to seep in.

“Okay,” you said quietly, finally letting the walls you’d built start to crumble. “Maybe I don’t know how to be strong all the time. Maybe I do need help.”

Tommy’s face broke into a warm smile, relief washing over him. “Good. Let’s take it one day at a time. I’ll help however I can. We can figure out feeding routines, and I can take care of some chores around here. Just… don’t shut us out.”

You nodded slowly, “Thank you.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the past month’s isolation slowly lifting. It wasn’t that you didn’t want help; it was that the fear of losing Joel had wrapped around you like a shroud, making it hard to see a way forward. But with Tommy’s support, a small crack of light broke through.

“Let’s start with something simple,” he suggested, his voice lightening a bit. “How about I take Rosie for a bit while you get some rest? You look like you could use it.”

You hesitated, glancing at the tiny bundle in your arms. “Are you sure? I don’t want to overwhelm you with her.”

Tommy chuckled softly, a hint of warmth in his voice. “I promise, I can handle a baby. Besides, I want to get to know my niece. Just give me a moment.”

You reluctantly handed Rosie over, your heart fluttering with both anxiety and relief. Watching as Tommy cradled her, a gentle smile on his face, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort in knowing she was with family.

“See? She’s in good hands,” he assured you, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “I’ll take good care of her. You just take some time for yourself.”

You nodded, feeling a little more at ease. “Okay. Just for a little while.”

As Tommy settled into the rocking chair with Rosie, you stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind you. The moment you were alone, you felt the remnants of tension seep from your body, leaving you a bit lighter.

You made your way to the small bathroom, splashing cool water on your face and letting the sensation ground you. Your reflection in the mirror was a reminder of the past weeks — the sleepless nights, the tears, the fear. But beneath it all, you also saw a flicker of resilience.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped back into the living area, where the sounds of Tommy cooing at Rosie filled the space. It was a simple moment, but it felt monumental. You could see how much Tommy genuinely cared, and the thought made your heart swell.

As you joined them, settling onto the couch across from him, you watched the two of them. “What are you talking about?” you asked, a playful curiosity tugging at your lips.

Tommy looked up with a grin. “Just telling her all the stories about her uncle. I was quite the troublemaker, you know.”

“Oh really?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine that.”

He laughed; the sound infectious. “You should have seen me. I could charm anyone out of trouble… except for Joel. He always saw right through me.”

You felt a small smile break through as you listened to him reminisce. It was a distraction you desperately needed, a chance to be reminded of the good things in life even amidst the chaos.

As the minutes passed, you began to feel a shift within yourself — a softening of the hard edges that grief had carved into your heart. Maybe things weren’t as hopeless as they once seemed. Maybe, with time and support, you could learn to navigate this new chapter alongside Rosie, surrounded by family who cared.

And as you watched Tommy bounce Rosie gently, you allowed yourself to entertain a sliver of hope. Perhaps Joel would find his way back to you, and until then, you had a new purpose to embrace, even in the absence of the one you loved.

A few days later, the air in the infirmary was thick with the familiar scent of antiseptic and the quiet hum of muted conversations. You sat on a worn-out chair, cradling Rosie in your arms as you watched Paul examine her. The little one was wrapped snugly in a soft blanket, her tiny features serene as she slept.

Paul, focused on his task, checked Rosie’s vitals, his brow furrowed in concentration. You could see the care in his movements, the way he gently examined her delicate limbs and listened to her heartbeat. After a moment, he straightened up, turning his attention to you.

“She’s doing well,” he said, a hint of relief in his voice. “Gaining weight, which is a good sign. Just keep an eye on her feeding schedule.”

You nodded, feeling a swell of pride. “I’ve been trying my best.”

Paul offered a small smile before his expression shifted, becoming more serious. “Can we talk for a moment?”

“Okay,” you replied, bracing yourself for what might come next.

Paul’s gaze dropped, and he took a deep breath before speaking again. “See, I told you he wasn’t going to come back.”

The words struck you like a blow, igniting a spark of anger deep within. “What do you mean?” you snapped, your voice rising. “You’re just going to give up on him like that?”

“I'm not giving up,” Paul said quickly, his tone defensive. “I’m trying to prepare you for the reality of this situation.”

“Reality?” you echoed, disbelief flooding your voice. “You think I don’t know what reality is? You think I want to believe he’s gone? I can’t just accept that!”

He held up his hands, trying to calm the storm brewing inside you. “I understand. But holding onto hope for too long can be dangerous. It can lead to more pain.”

“More pain?” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “You think I haven’t felt pain? You think it doesn’t hurt to think about him every single day, wondering if he’s, okay? Wondering if he’s thinking of us?”

Paul’s expression softened, but the seriousness remained. “I just don’t want you to be hurt even more when the reality sinks in.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, frustration and sorrow bubbling beneath the surface. “You don’t get to dictate how I feel, Paul! You can’t just stand there and tell me to give up on someone I love. Joel is out there. I know he is. He wouldn’t leave us. He wouldn’t abandon me and Rosie.”

“I wish I could believe that as much as you do,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But you need to face the possibility that he’s not coming back. It’s not about giving up; it’s about being realistic.”

“Realistic?” you shot back, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “You think being realistic means I should stop hoping? That I should stop fighting for him? You’re wrong. If there’s even the slightest chance that he’s out there, I’m not going to let it go. Not now, not ever.”

Paul stepped closer; concern etched on his face. “You can’t do this alone. You need support, and right now, your focus should be on Rosie. She needs you.”

The mention of Rosie made the anger in your chest swirl into something more painful—guilt. “I know she needs me,” you said, your voice dropping. “But how can I be there for her when a part of me feels like it’s dying inside? How can I pretend everything is okay when I’m terrified of what the future holds without him?”

Paul’s expression softened further, and for a moment, you could see the struggle in his eyes. “I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m just trying to help you navigate this. You’re not alone in this fight, and we’re all here for you, ready to support you.”

Taking a deep breath, you felt the walls you had built around your heart beginning to crack. “I don’t want to lose him, Paul. I can’t. Not now, when I finally have a family of my own.”

“Then let us help you,” he urged, his voice earnest. “Let us be your family. We’ll do this together, one day at a time.”

You met his gaze, searching for a glimmer of hope, and found only sincerity. “I don’t know how,” you admitted, feeling the weight of your despair.

“Just start by being present,” he said gently. “For Rosie. For yourself. We’ll figure out the rest as we go. You’re stronger than you think, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

You shook your head, “No. I will never going to feel love for you, Paul”

Paul’s expression shifted, a mix of surprise and hurt flashing across his face. “I wasn’t asking you to love me,” he said, his voice steady but laced with disappointment. “I’m just trying to be here for you, to help you through this.”

“Help? You mean take Joel’s place?” you shot back, frustration bubbling over. “I can’t just forget about him, Paul. I won’t. I loved him, and I still do.”

“I get that,” he replied, his tone softening. “But you need to start living for yourself and Rosie. Holding onto Joel’s memory is one thing, but shutting everyone else out is another. You’re pushing away the people who care about you.”

You carefully shifted Rosie in your arms, holding her close as you locked eyes with Paul. “It’s her and me and Tommy and Maria; they are my family,” you said firmly, the protective instinct for your little girl rising within you. “You will never be part of that.”

Paul’s face fell, the weight of your words settling heavily in the air. “I understand that you feel this way, but it doesn’t mean you have to shut everyone out,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

“I’m sorry for being honest about it,” you continued, feeling a mixture of regret and resolve. “But having a daughter and being alone doesn’t make me a damsel in distress. I’m doing the best I can, and I won’t pretend to want something I don’t.”

His brows furrowed, and he took a step back as if your words had physically struck him. “I never thought of you as a damsel in distress. I see your strength, but it’s hard to see you pushing away those who want to help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I appreciate that you care, Paul, but I don’t want help that comes with strings attached,” you insisted. “You may want to be there for me, but I’m not ready for that. My focus is Rosie, and I need to figure this out on my own.”

“I just want to be a part of your life, to support you both,” he replied, his voice softening. “I know it’s not easy, but I can be there for you without trying to replace Joel. I can respect that.”

You felt your heart ache “I said no.”

You felt your heart ache as the weight of his words hung in the air. “I said no,” you reiterated firmly, standing up from the chair, cradling Rosie closer to your chest. “I can’t do this right now, Paul. I need space.”

Paul opened his mouth, perhaps to argue, but then he hesitated, the look in his eyes shifting from concern to resignation. “I get it,” he said softly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just want what’s best for you and Rosie.”

You turned away, the tears threatening to spill over as you fought to keep your composure. “What’s best for me is to be left alone to figure this out. I have to focus on my daughter.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy and tense. You could feel Paul’s gaze on you, a mix of hurt and confusion in his expression, but you steeled yourself against it. You couldn’t let the guilt of his disappointment sway your decision.

“I’ll come back for the check-up,” you said, your voice shaking slightly. “But I need time to breathe, Paul. Please respect that.”

As you moved toward the door, you felt a pang of regret and relief. You opened the door, taking one last look at him. His expression was concerned and sad, but you knew this was what you needed.

As you stepped back into your small, cozy home, the door closing softly behind you, the weight of the world seemed to lift, even if just for a moment. You looked down at Rosie, her tiny eyes fluttering as she began to settle in your arms. Her soft breath was a reminder that despite everything, there was love and hope right here in your arms.

“Shh, Rosie. We’re home now,” you whispered gently, brushing your lips against her forehead. “It’s just you and me, baby girl. We’re gonna be okay.”

Her little hand gripped your shirt, and the corners of your mouth tugged into a small smile. The bond you felt with her was something no one could break. As you moved toward the rocking chair by the window, the soft glow of the setting sun bathed the room in a warm light. You gently lowered yourself into the chair, cradling Rosie close, rocking her slowly.

"You're so beautiful, Rosie," you murmured, watching her tiny face relax into sleep. "Your daddy would love you so much. He'll love you so much when he gets back. He’s coming back, sweetheart. I know he is."

The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that usually made your heart ache with Joel's absence. But tonight, with Rosie in your arms, that silence felt different—more peaceful, fuller. You hummed softly, rocking back and forth as Rosie’s breathing became steadier.

A melody drifted from your lips, a lullaby that Joel had once hummed to you on restless nights:

"Hush now, my darling, close your eyes,

The world is waiting, but not tonight."

Your voice trembled at the end, a lump forming in your throat as you pictured Joel. You imagined him here, sitting beside you, watching Rosie with that rare, soft smile he reserved for moments when his guard was down. He would hold her, kiss her tiny forehead, and tell you everything was going to be alright.

But as you sang, the warmth of Rosie’s little body against yours made you feel stronger than you thought you could be. She was the piece of Joel you held onto, the reminder of the life you were fighting to build, even if he wasn’t here now. You kissed her head, breathing in her soft baby scent, as you whispered the last words of the song:

"Sleep now, my love, you're safe in my arms,

One day you'll see all the world’s gleams.

But for today's, it's just you and me,

And we’ll wait for him, just wait and see."

Tears pricked your eyes, but this time, there was a sense of peace. You had your daughter, and she had you. For now, that was enough.

You rocked Rosie gently, her tiny body sinking deeper into sleep with each passing minute. Her soft breathing was steady, and her hand had finally relaxed its grip on your shirt. Carefully, you rose from the rocking chair, cradling her to your chest as you walked across the room to her crib.

“There you are, baby girl,” you whispered as you placed her down, tucking a blanket around her small form. Her chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm, her little face serene in the dim light of the room. For a moment, everything felt calm, as though the world outside didn't exist.

Just as you turned, a quiet knock came from the open door. You spun around to see Tommy standing there, a small smile on his face.

"Hey," he whispered, but the sound was still too loud in the quiet room.

You held a finger to your lips, motioning toward the crib. "Shh, Rosie just fell asleep," you murmured, stepping toward him.

Tommy nodded, lowering his voice further. “Sorry ‘bout that. I was just checkin’ in…”

Before you could respond, you noticed someone, standing behind Tommy, half-hidden by the doorframe. You blinked, your breath catching in your throat, your heart pounding in your ears.

It was Joel.

Your mind struggled to process the sight of him, standing there, looking worn and weary but alive. The moment stretched out as if time had slowed. His eyes, filled with an intensity you hadn’t seen in months, locked onto yours. It was as though the entire world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

Ellie was there too, just behind him. Her gaze seemed lost and weary.

Joel took a step forward, his eyes never leaving yours, but before he could come closer, you found yourself speaking, your voice sharp and surprising even to yourself.

“No.”

He stopped, his expression shifting from relief to confusion. Ellie, standing behind him, looked just as surprised, her eyes wide, and the exhaustion in her posture deepened. The room felt tense, charged with emotions you weren’t ready to face.

“No?” Joel repeated softly, his brows furrowing, unsure of how to respond.

You shook your head, taking a shaky breath. “You left,” you whispered, feeling the weight of months of fear, anger, and hurt bubbling to the surface.

Joel took another cautious step forward, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for any sign of rejection. When he saw none, he closed the distance between you in an instant, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame. The familiar warmth of his embrace washed over you, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all.

You buried your face in his chest, the weight of everything finally crashing down. His heartbeat was strong and steady, grounding you in a way you had been desperately missing. Joel’s arms tightened around you as if he were afraid to let go, his grip protective, comforting. He pressed his face against the top of your head, exhaling a shaky breath.

“I thought I lost you,” you whispered against his chest, your voice breaking. The tears came then, spilling over as months of fear, anger, and loneliness poured out of you all at once. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“I’m here,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with guilt. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

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[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Can't Hide The Way I'm Feelin' - Pt. 2

You have a propensity for tardiness, and your new interim professor will have none of it.

A/N: Whomp. Pure p*rn, if I'm being honest. Requested by to @gswha. You can read Pt. 1 HERE

TW: 18+ only, Intersex reader, mild choking, multiple orgasms, Nat just being a savage sex fiend.

As you walked into class on Monday, you noticed that she was dressed differently. Her usual sharp business attire was replaced by a more casual ensemble, a tight black sweater and a pair of skinny jeans that hugged her curves like a second skin. You felt a heat rising from your chest to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze. The class was eerily quiet as you took your seat, the only sound was the rustle of pages and the occasional cough.

"Ms. Y/N," she called out, her voice as sharp as ever. You looked up, and she was holding your assignments in her hand. "I've reviewed your work. It's... adequate." The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her to continue. "But we both know you can do better." She paused, her eyes scanning the room before returning to you. "If you wish to improve your grade, I suggest you visit me during office hours."

You felt your heart sink. You had done your best to impress her, to show her that you weren't the slacker she thought you were. But apparently, it wasn't enough. The rest of class passed in a blur, her words echoing in your mind. What more could she possibly want from you?

As the bell finally rang, you packed up your things and made your way out of the classroom, your mind racing. You hadn't even made it to the hallway before you felt a hand on your arm. It was her, Dr. Romanoff. "My office, now," she said, her grip firm. You followed her, unsure of what to expect.

You followed the authoritative click of her heels, her grip firm on your bicep as she pushed you in the direction she wanted. When you reached her office, she didn't bother with pleasantries. She closed the door behind you, the sound echoing through the hallway.

"Take a seat, Ms. Y/N," she said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk. You did as you were told, the anticipation building in your stomach like a coiled spring. "I've noticed an...improvement in your behavior, and to be honest, your work was some of the best I've seen for a while." She placed the assignments down with a smack, her eyes meeting yours, challenging you to argue.

The confusion that must have crept onto your features was clear as day, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and folding her arms over her chest. The fabric of her sweater stretched tightly across her breasts, and you couldn't help but steal a glance before redirecting your gaze.

The look on her face told you that she had caught you staring, a smirk gracing her features. "Do you remember our conversation on Saturday, Y/N?" she asked, her voice a low purr that made you want to squirm in your seat.

"Yeah, I do," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Good," she said, her eyes raking over you. "I've had a small portion of that conversation playing in my head all weekend, Y/N," She leaned forward, her elbows on the desk. "And I've come to a decision. You need a more... personal form of motivation to truly reach your potential. However, I have to know- who is it that holds your attention so dearly?"

You felt your heart drop into your stomach. Did she know? "I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stuttered, trying to play it cool. But she wasn't buying it.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N," she said, her voice firm. "I know you've been thinking about me. And frankly, I've been thinking about you too."

The room felt like it was closing in on you, her words a punch to the gut. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it was no use. "What do you mean?" you managed to croak out.

"I mean," she began, her voice dropping to a whisper, "that I've noticed the way you look at me in class, the way you react to my words. And I must admit, it's intriguing." She leaned closer, her eyes searching yours. "I think you need more than just a firm hand to keep you in line. I think you need...something else."

The air in the room was charged with something unspoken, something that made your palms sweat and your heart race. "What are you saying?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Romanoff's smile grew wider, predatory. "I'm saying that perhaps we can come to an...understanding," she said, her voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "One that will benefit us both."

You sat there, your mind racing, trying to piece together what she was insinuating. Was she...was she flirting with you? The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating. You had never been in a situation like this before, with a teacher, no less. You let a wry smile creep across your face, trying to play it cool. "What kind of understanding are we talking about here, Dr. Romanoff?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she leaned even closer, her breath hot on your face. "The kind where I give you the attention you so clearly crave, and in return, you give me the one thing I've wanted since the moment I laid eyes on you."

You felt your heart skip a beat. "And what could you have possibly wanted since you met me?" you asked, trying to keep the tremble from your voice. Your heart felt like is was about to pound out of your chest, as she stood from behind her desk, walking to the front of it, closing some of the distance between you. She leaned back against the oak surface, crossing her arms and pushing her chest out more.

"Your full attention, Y/N," she replied, her eyes never leaving yours. "And perhaps a bit more."

You swallowed hard, trying to process what she was saying. This was a line you never thought you'd cross, but the temptation was too strong. "Well, Dr. Romanoff," you began, trying to sound as confident as possible, "I have to know what it is you've been wanting me to do for me to do a damn thing about it."

Her smile grew, and she leaned even closer, so close you could feel her breath on your neck. "Is that a yes?" she murmured her voice a siren's call that made your body respond in ways you couldn't ignore.

In a surge of confidence, you stood, completely closing the gap between the both of you. You leaned in, placing your hands on either side of her body, trapping her in front of you. "What's it going to be, Natasha?"

Her eyes widened slightly at your boldness, but the spark of desire grew in her gaze. "If we do this," she whispered, "you're mine, Y/N. In and out of the classroom. No more games, no more slacking off." You groaned at her command, the thought of being hers sent a pulse through your awakening sex.

"Only if," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "If I'm going to be yours, I want all of you. No holding back." You leaned in, your face a mere inch from hers, challenging her to deny you.

Her eyes searched yours, the storm clouds within them swirling with a mix of desire and something darker. "You have no idea what you're asking for," she murmured, but the heat in her voice betrayed her interest.

"Neither do you, Romanoff," you whispered, your voice a seductive challenge. You could feel the thick and palpable tension between you as it hung in the air, charged with a current of something neither of you could ignore. She stared at you, her expression unreadable, but the heat in her gaze was unmistakable.

"Well, Y/N," she began, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "If you want all of me, you'll have to earn it. You'll prove to me that you're worthy of my attention."

You felt a thrill at her words, the challenge in her eyes setting something alight within you. "How do I do that?" you asked, your voice a barely contained growl. She stood up, pressing herself closer to you, your chests now touching and your faces mere inches apart. You try to ignore the spark that erupts everywhere she is in contact with your body, but it is slowly overtaking your senses, and all rationality.

"I think," she stuck her finger in the center of your chest, tracing an absentminded pattern all over, making you internally groan. "That you need to show me what I've heard so much about, Y/N." Her eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt. "Your reputation precedes you." She bites her lip, her eyes darting back and forth between your eyes and lips. "I want to see if you can live up to it."

You smirked, feeling the heat from her body and the way she leaned into you, making you want to devour her whole. "Is that all?" You whispered back, leaning in closer to her ear, making her shiver. "Because I've got more than just a reputation, Natasha." She moaned in your ear at the admission, her body visibly trembling against yours.

Without another word, she grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss that was as fiery as the passion in your eyes. Her tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth, leaving no room for doubt. You felt your knees go weak and had to hold onto the desk to keep from falling. Her fingers wound thier way through your hair, pulling slightly to cause you to moan into the kiss.

Her hands roamed over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You couldn't help but respond, pushing closer, your hands sliding up her sides to rest on her hips. You felt her tighten her grip on you, her nails digging into your skin just enough to let you know she was serious.

The kiss grew more intense, and you could feel your control slipping away. You had never felt this way about a teacher before, but Dr. Romanoff was unlike anyone you had ever met. Her confidence and power were intoxicating, and the way she looked at you made you feel like the most important person in the world.

As you broke away for air, she stepped back, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "That's a start," she murmured, her voice a mix of challenge and desire. "But I need to see more." She turned and walked to the door of her office, swinging the lock shut and sliding a chair under the handle. Her hips swaying with an allure that was impossible to ignore as she sauntered around the room.

She made her way back in front of you, her eyes wandering all over your frame, and pausing on the straining bulge in your jeans. She smirked and took a step closer, her hand reaching out to trace the line of your jaw. "Oh, how I have thought and dreamed about this, Y/N."

Her touch was like a spark to dry kindling, setting your body alight with a need that was unbearable. You reached up and grabbed her hand, pressing it harder against your skin, feeling the beat of your pulse beneath her fingertips. "Show me," you breathed. "Show me how much."

With a smirk that could melt the Arctic, she stepped closer, pressing her body against yours. Your hands roamed over her curves, feeling the soft fabric of her sweater and the firmness beneath. She gasped as you found the hem and slid your hands up, feeling the smooth skin of her stomach and the swell of her breasts. Her hand found its way to your waistband, deftly unbuckling your belt and popping the button of your jeans. The sound of the zipper was like a gunshot in the quiet room.

You stepped back slightly, allowing her to push your jeans and boxers down, your erection springing free. She took you in her hand, stroking you gently, her eyes never leaving yours. The look of power in her gaze was something you had never seen before, and it was driving you wild. You reached for her sweater, tugging it over her head and revealing the lacy black bra beneath. Her breasts were full and heavy, begging to be freed.

With trembling hands, you unclipped the clasp and watched as the material fell away, revealing her to you. She was perfection, her skin pale and unblemished, her nipples pink and hard from your touch. You bent down, taking one in your mouth, her gasp making your cock throb in her hand. You teased and suckled, feeling her hand tighten around you as she moaned your name.

Her other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as she ground her hips against yours. The friction was maddening, and you knew you wouldn't last much longer. You reached behind her, sliding her jeans down her legs, taking in the sight of her in just her lacy thong. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband and slid it down, revealing the wetness that had gathered between her thighs. She was ready for you, and the sight made you growl with need.

You knelt before her, spreading her legs apart. Your tongue darted out to taste her, and she moaned your name again. You lapped at her folds, feeling her shiver and buck against your mouth. Her taste was like nothing you had ever experienced before, sweet and salty and all hers. You pushed a finger inside her, feeling her tighten around you, her walls clenching as she grew closer to climax.

Her hand tightened in your hair, guiding you as you worked her body, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. You felt the tension in her legs and knew she was close. You added another finger, pumping them in and out as you flicked your tongue over her clit. She was so wet, so hot, and it was all for you.

You pulled away just as she was reaching her peak, leaving her panting and gasping for breath. "Not yet," you whispered against her skin, causing goosebumps to rise on her thighs. "I want to feel you come around me."

Her eyes blazed with need as she reached down, taking your hand and guiding it to her wetness. "Take me, Y/N," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. "I need you inside me."

Without wasting another moment, you stood and positioned yourself at her entrance. You could feel the heat of her desire, and you knew she was ready. You pushed into her slowly, feeling her walls tighten around you as she took you in. She was so wet, so tight, and the feeling was more than you could handle. You groaned as you filled her, feeling her body quiver in anticipation.

You began to move, setting a rhythm that had her moaning with every thrust. Her nails dug into your back, her legs wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, the only sound other than the muffled cries of pleasure that spilled from her lips.

Her breathing grew more ragged, her hips moving in time with yours. You could feel her getting closer, her muscles tightening around you like a vice. You reached between your bodies, finding her clit and rubbing it with your thumb as you thrust deeper. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she screamed out your name as she came, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm.

The feeling of her contracting around you was too much, and you followed her over the edge, filling her with your release. You held onto her tightly, your breath coming in gasps as you rode out the waves of pleasure. When it was over, you leaned against her, both of you panting and sweaty.

You pulled out slowly, watching as she shivered at the loss of you inside her. You bent down and kissed her softly, tasting the salt of her skin. "You're mine now," she murmured, her eyes half-lidded with satisfaction.

"Always have been," you replied, a smug smile playing on your lips. You pulled her into a standing position and kissed her again, her legs wobbly beneath her. She broke away, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Good," she said, her voice a low purr. "Now, let's see if you can handle the rest of what I have planned for you." You groaned as she lowered herself between your legs, taking all of you into her mouth, moaning around your length as she tasted her cum all over your shaft, mixed with yours. The sensation was overwhelming, and you had to hold onto the desk for support.

Her tongue swirled around the head of your cock, pausing as she felt the ball of your piercing on the surface of her tongue. She looked up at you with a knowing smile, her eyes full of mischief. You couldn't believe that you had finally given in to the temptation that had been brewing between the two of you for months. The way she took you in her mouth was like nothing you had ever felt before, and it was clear she knew exactly what she was doing.

You felt your knees wobble as she deep-throated you, her cheeks hollowing out with every bob of her head. Her hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as she worked you with a skill that was both surprising and incredibly erotic. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you let out a low moan, your hands threading through her hair. "Fuck, Natasha."

Her grip tightened as she felt you swell, her movements becoming more urgent. She knew you were close, and she wasn't about to let up. She hummed around you, the vibration sending you into overdrive, your grip tightening on her fiery hair as you began to thrust into her throat. You came hard, filling her mouth with your release, and she swallowed every drop, her eyes never leaving yours.

When you had finished, she stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I've wanted to do that since the first day of class," she said, her voice husky with desire. You couldn't help but chuckle, the situation so intense and yet so unexpectedly intimate.

"Well, I'm sure there's more where that came from," you said, your voice still shaky from the orgasm. She leaned in and kissed you, her tongue sliding against yours, sharing the taste of you with you. It was a claiming kiss, one that left no doubt in your mind that she was now in charge.

Her hands slid down your body, taking in the sight of you, naked and hard for her again. "Impressive," she murmured, her eyes lingering on your cock. "But now it's my turn," she said, a smirk playing on her lips. You watched as she wiped her desk clean, climbing onto it, her legs spread wide, revealing the wetness that glistened between her thighs, her arousal dripping onto the surface below. She leaned back on her elbows, inviting you closer.

You groaned at the sight, slowly pumping your length as you rested the other hand on her ass, slapping it. "You're so fucking wet for me," you said, your voice thick with lust. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes never leaving yours as she spread herself wider.

"I want you to fuck me like you mean it, Y/N," she instructed her voice a mix of need and command. You didn't need any more encouragement than that. You stepped closer, aligning yourself with her slick entrance, and pushed in. She was so tight, so hot, it was like sliding into heaven. She gasped as you filled her, her nails digging into the desk. You set a punishing pace, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. She moaned your name, her back arching as she met you stroke for stroke.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, you pulled her back to you by her hair, her back meeting your heaving chest. You reached up with your other hand, easily sliding over her glistening torso, tweaking her hardened nipple between your fingers. You could feel her tightening around you, her walls clenching as she neared her climax. You slid your hand down, playing with her clit, feeling her shiver and whimper.

"Come for me, detka," you whispered, your voice a dark command. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked at you, her pupils blown wide with desire.

"Y/N," she breathed, her voice a plea. And with one final, powerful thrust, she shattered around you, her body convulsing as she screamed out your name. You watched in awe as she came, her pussy milking your cock, her orgasm so intense it brought you to the brink. With a roar, you followed her over the edge, filling her with your release. She took it all, her body pulsing around you as you emptied into her. When it was over, you both collapsed onto the desk, panting and sweaty.

It took a minute for her to recover before she turned her head to look at you. "When," she panted, still catching her breath. "When did you learn Russian?"

You chuckled, still trying to recover from the intensity of the moment. "I've always had a knack for languages," you replied, leaning down to kiss her neck. She shivered at the contact, a soft moan escaping her lips. "Plus, I have a professor who had me do lots of research work, so I picked up on a few things."

Without another word, she turned around, spreading her legs to straddle you, pulling you closer to her as you stood in between her toned thighs. You stepped up to her, your cock twitching with anticipation. You reached down and slid into her, feeling her tighten around you again. She moaned, her head dropping to your chest. "Fuck, Y/N!"

You began to move, your hips slapping against hers as you took her on the edge of her desk. She was so wet, so hot, and the way she felt around you was driving you wild. You reached down, playing with her clit as you pounded into her, feeling her get closer and closer to another orgasm. Her moans grew louder, filling the room with the sound of our passion. You could feel her muscles tightening around you, her body begging for release.

Her nails dug into your shoulders as she arched her back, her breasts pressing against your chest. You leaned down and took one of her nipples in your mouth, sucking and biting gently, making her whimper. Her movements grew erratic, her hips bucking against yours as she chased her climax. You felt it building, her walls milking you as her orgasm neared. You began to pepper bites and kisses up and down her throat, as she let her head fall backward, her hair forming a red curtain behind her.

"Don't stop," she panted, her voice thick with desire. "Please, don't stop." You could feel her pussy tightening around you, her muscles clenching as she reached the peak. You didn't stop, you couldn't. You drove into her harder, feeling the desk wobble beneath you. Wrapping your arms around her back, your hands resting on her shoulders, you were able to muscle her up, pistoning into her at an obscene rate. Her legs tightened around your waist, her nails digging into your skin as she threw her head towards your shoulder, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, making her entire body convulse around you. You felt yourself grow even harder if that was possible. "Fuck," you grunted, the expletive forced from your chest. You didn't know if you could hold out much longer. The way she felt, the way she smelled, the way she sounded, it was all too much. You felt your own orgasm building, the pressure at the base of your spine growing with every thrust.

Her eyes flew open and she looked at you, a wild look in her eyes. "I'm going to come," she warned her voice a mix of pleasure and urgency. You didn't stop, couldn't stop. You pounded into her, her moans spurring you on as you chased your own release. And then it hit you, a white-hot burst of pleasure that shot through your body like lightning. You came inside her, filling her up with your seed, your body shaking with the intensity of it all.

Her legs tightened around your waist, and she threw her head back, her throat exposed to you as she let out a scream of pure ecstasy. You leaned down and kissed her neck, feeling her pulse racing beneath your lips. You could feel her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her climax as you slowly pulled out, your cock still semi-hard and slick with her juices.

You slowly pulled out of her, resting her on the desk behind. She was a mess of sticky sweat and lust, her chest heaving with every ragged breath she took. You took a moment to admire her, sprawled out like a painting of a conquered goddess, her skin flushed and her eyes glazed over with satisfaction. You couldn't resist leaning in for one more kiss, tasting the salt of your combined sweat, the sweetness of her lip gloss, and the lingering taste of your cum on her tongue.

"Again," she breathed against your lips, her voice a needy whine. You smirked, feeling the beginnings of your arousal stirring once more. How could you resist such an offer?

"Only if I get to taste you, darling." You smirked, bending down to kiss her neck, your teeth grazing her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Dr. Romanoff nodded eagerly, her eyes fluttering shut as you turned her onto her back, her legs still hanging over the edge of the desk. You stepped between them, pushing her thighs apart. The sight of her, glistening and open for you, was almost too much to handle.

You leaned in, your tongue tracing the line of her folds, tasting the remnants of your earlier passion. She gasped, her hips jerking as you found her clit with the tip of your tongue. You took it into your mouth, sucking gently, feeling her body tense beneath you. Her hands tangled in your hair, guiding you, urging you on. The sound of her moans was like music to your ears, driving you almost near madness.

Her legs wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer as you worked your magic. Her hips began to rock against your face, her movements growing more erratic as you pushed her closer to the edge. You grabbed a firm hold on her hips. pinning her to the desk as your tongue began to probe her leaking entrance. She was so wet, and the scent of her arousal was driving you wild. You felt yourself growing hard again, your cock aching to be inside her once more. Trying to quell the desire to sheath yourself inside of her, you inserted two fingers into her, continuing your assault on her clit as you probed her soft, spongy interior.

Her walls tightened around your digits, her moans growing louder as she neared climax. You felt her whole body tense and knew she was close. With one final flick of your tongue, you felt her release. She bucked against your face, her pussy pulsing around your fingers as she came hard. You swallowed her juices greedily, feeling your cock throb with every pulse of her orgasm.

You pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. She looked up at you, her eyes glazed with pleasure, and whispered, "More." You chuckled darkly, moving back between her legs, your cock now fully erect and ready to claim her once again. This time, you didn't hold back, slamming into her without mercy. She took it all, her legs wrapped around you, her nails digging into your back. A guttural moan left her, her lack of shame about being in the middle of a university only spurring you further.

Her breasts bounced with every thrust, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. The scent of arousal mingled with the faint aroma of books and dust, creating an intoxicating cocktail that only served to fuel the fire burning between you. Your hips moved with a primal instinct, the desk beneath you groaning in protest with every pound. You willed your hips to stop, only for a moment, causing the redhead to mewl and writhe beneath you. You shifted her, her legs locking behind you as she tried to pull you in deeper. You swiftly picked her up, and walked over to one of the armchairs in the office, sitting yourself down, with her on top.

"I wanna see you ride me, baby," you growled in her ear, sucking her earlobe in between your teeth. Dr. Romanoff's eyes lit up with excitement, and she straddled you, her slick pussy sliding down your shaft with ease. She began to bounce up and down, her movements growing more confident and wild with every moan that left her lips. You could feel her pussy clench around you, her walls tightening as she approached her peak. Your hands found her hips, guiding her, urging her to go faster, to take all of you. You slipped one hand up, palming one of her breasts, bringing your mouth to the other.

Her moans grew louder, her breathing more ragged as she bounced on your cock. You could feel her orgasm building, her movements growing more erratic as she chased the feeling. You squeezed her breast, rolling the nipple between your thumb and forefinger, eliciting a gasp from her. She leaned back, her hands on your shoulders for balance, her eyes never leaving yours. The sight of her riding you was almost too much to handle, her pussy gripping you like a vice, her ass bouncing with every downward thrust.

"Fuck, you look so good like this, Dr. Romanoff," you taunted, only spurring her on further.

Her hips rolled and gyrated, taking you in deeper with every downward thrust. The wet sounds of your skin slapping together echoed through the office, and you could feel the chair's cushion growing damp with your combined juices. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against your chest.

"Fuck me, Y/N," she moaned, her voice a sweet symphony of need and desire. "Make me scream your name again." You groaned, wrapping one hand around her throat,  the other around her waist, as you set a relentless pace that had both of you on the edge of oblivion. Her movements grew more frantic, her breathing shallow and erratic. The pressure in her core built, her muscles tightening around your cock with every stroke. You met every gyration of her hips with a powerful thrust of your own, your grunts and her moans filling the silence between your skin slapping together.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her nails dug into your shoulders as she climaxed. Her pussy clamped down on you like a vice, her juices flooding over your shaft and her walls quivering around you. "Fuck! Y/N!" she screamed into the office around her. The intensity of her orgasm washed over you, and you could feel yourself on the brink. You didn't stop, didn't dare. Instead, you quickened your pace, pushing her further, watching her face contort with pleasure and pain as she came again and again. Her legs tightened around your waist, her heels digging into your back, urging you to go deeper, harder.

You pulled out of her briefly, flipping her over on the floor in front of the chair so that she had her leg flung over your shoulder, and you could hit that sweet spot with every thrust. You didn't give her a chance to recover before you slammed back into her, filling her completely. She was soaking wet, and the sound of your skin slapping against hers was the sweetest symphony of pleasure and desire. You grabbed her hips, pulling her back to meet every thrust, her moans turning into screams of ecstasy. The slap of flesh echoed through the room, mixing with the sound of your heavy breathing. You could feel her tightening around you, her pussy gripping you as she neared another climax.

Your hand snaked around her throat, not too tightly but enough to add an edge to the already intense moment. You squeezed gently, feeling her pulse against your fingertips, her eyes snapping to yours, wide with a mix of fear and excitement. You could tell she liked it a little rough, and the way she responded only turned you on more. "Come for me," you ordered, your voice low and demanding. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she screamed your name as she shuddered around your cock, her orgasm sending waves of pleasure through her body. The feeling of her essence spraying around your throbbing member, milking you towards your oblivion sent you over the edge, your hips stuttering as you collapsed on top of her.

Her legs quivered as she came down from the high, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her neck, feeling her pulse slow down. You pulled out of her gently, watching as your cum dripped out of her still-spasming pussy. The sight was obscene, but incredibly erotic, making you want to take her again and again. You looked up at her, a smug smile playing on your lips. "Good girl," you murmured, stroking her hair.

Dr. Romanoff pushed herself up onto her elbows, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "You know, Y/N," she said, her voice a mix of breathlessness and amusement, "you really are a quick learner.” You had never felt so alive, so desired. It was a power exchange that you never knew existed, and you reveled in it. You were hers, and she was yours, and the thought was as thrilling as it was terrifying.

As the shadows grew long outside her office window, she finally pulled away, her chest heaving with exertion. "I think," she murmured, her voice thick with desire, "that we've made a good start.” You nodded, unable to form coherent words. Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, her voice a promise of more to come.

[hannieehaee]

Hi!! I was wondering if I could request a scenario(or reaction) where maybe you had a day planned with a member but they canceled to hangout with the guys, not realizing it was your birthday. I love your writing and angst so this would be perfect 4 me 🤭 thank you!! (Also for the member, maybe hhu 👉👈)

them accidentally ditching you on your bday - hhu

hhu, vu, pu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, mingyu's is a teeny tiny bit suggestive (they're mentioned to shower together, but nothing sexual occurs), etc.

part 2

wc: 2903

a/n: sorry it took me so long to get to this T-T i liked the prompt so i wanted to write something a lil longer hehe anyways tysm for reading and for requesting <3 pls lmk if anyone wants a vocal/perf unit version!

masterlist

seungcheol -

seungcheol always had a tendency of being a tiny bit extra when it came to his birthday. he expected all friends and family to be punctual on that day with a gift and some heartfelt congratulations. if you didn't wish him happy birthday at 12am on the dot, you were just not that good of a friend to him and he'd remember that moment with disdain.

in the same way that he was extra on his own birthday, he liked to do the same for his closest loved ones. he was always ready at 12 o'clock with some words of love and appreciation ready. he'd have had the gift ready months in advance. even on other people's special day, he wanted to stand out a little; show how good of a friend he was. there were no questions to he made about your birthday. you, his favorite person in the world. if he was ever going to make a day special, it was that one. he would count down the days until its arrival. it was always such a sweet gesture from him, you thought. which was why it was very weird of him to not be present right now. or all day, for that matter.

it was your birthday. you had planned this day with seungcheol a few weeks in advance. all you wanted was a calm day with your boyfriend, even cancelling plans on friends and family who had also wanted to keep you company on your special day. you were originally just going to eat a nice dinner with your boyfriend on whichever day of the week you had off that week, not minding whether it actually fell on your birthday or not. but your boyfriend had insisted on celebrating on the exact date, even telling you to call off work, claiming he would do the same once the day came. except those plans seemed to fall through.

you'd gone to sleep a bit early, deciding not to wait on your boyfriend to arrive from dance practice and just sleep in preparation for whatever cheol had planned for tomorrow. you assumed he would wake you up upon his arrival, which wouldve been a bit before midnight. you'd woken up confused when you had looked at the clock the next morning and noticed it was 6am, not having been awoken by him, nor spotting him in your room. he always left before you woke up, but today was supposed to be a day off for him, so it was all very odd. it continued like this for a few hours, until you gave up on waiting for his arrival and just called him. it was only 10am by now, so maybe he had left for some preparations not expecting you to wake up so early, but your phone calls went unanswered. for hours. it eventually became the afternoon. you had given up on calling him at around 2 oclock, realizing he just wasn't going to show.

by 5pm, you were beyond sad. the same man who whined and pouted at you if you dared wish him a happy birthday at 12:02am had also forgotten your birthday, clearly not even having called off of work that day (you'd checked his location some hours back, he was at the hybe building). he hadn't even bothered to check his phone all day either. you weren't usually one to get emotional, but this felt like a punch in the gut. you had gone out of your way to spend the day with your boyfriend, having been promised an amazing day, but were now just some forgotten rag, less important than his usual work day.

he arrived a little earlier than yesterday. whenever he left early in the morning, he arrived in the afternoon. it was now 6pm, and you had spent the whole day moping. you grabbed the cake you'd both left in the fridge a few days back, not caring anymore and just eating it out of sadness. that might've been cheol's first guess upon walking in, as you saw his smile fall the moment he landed his eyes on you, 'happy birthday' cake sitting across from you on the coffee table.

his eyes widened at the realization, and much more at your dejected appearance, "oh my god, babe, i'm so-"

you sighed, "you don't have to say it."

he quickly approached you, dropping his bag and coat before having hung them upon his entrance, "no! fuck, i'm so fucking sorry. i have no idea how it slipped my mind, i- i forgot to call off in advance, and it threw off my entire schedule. i swear i just forgot, i'm so fucking sorry, baby," he was rambling now, probably realizing how let down you were by his slip up.

"it doesn't matter, cheol. it's just a birthday. i'll just ... i'll just celebrate with my family next week or something. don't worry about it," you knew you didn't mean your words, but you also felt it useless to try and blame cheol.

"wait! it's only six. we can still do something! do you wanna go out? i'll take you to dinner. how does that sound?"

"i ... i don't really feel like it, cheol. i think i'll just go meet up with a friend. she called me last week asking to meet up, but i cancelled on her. i just wanted to wait for you to get back before i left. i'll see you in the morning," you knew you were being a little immature, but if he had wanted to be with you, he would've put in the effort.

"oh. you're sleeping over? but i thought ..."

"yeah. i'll just see you tomorrow when you get back from practice. yeah? bye, cheol."

you left without saying much else, feeling guilty at his look of rejection. you felt badly about leaving him on his own like this, but you knew there was no way for you to spend time with your boyfriend right now without feeling like an idiot.

wonwoo -

wonwoo had never felt like more of an asshole.

wonwoo had never been too big on birthdays, specially his own. to him it was just another day. it was only his family, friends (and carats, of course) who ever made that day special to him. if it had been up to him? he would probably even forget about the day, but he had the fortune to have a lot of people in his life who loved and cared about him enough to cherish that day as if it were a national holiday. and you were one of those people. you would always shower wonwoo with love, but you'd go a little extra hard on his birthday, catering to every need you think he may have and even going as far as creating an entire itinerary of things he enjoys to do throughout the day. you were a little ray of sunshine that would somehow make him look forward to his birthday, something very uncharacteristic of him. which was why he had never felt like a bigger asshole than right now.

today was your birthday. a day which wonwoo had looked forward to for two years now. he had wanted to celebrate your following birthday with you, maybe plan something elaborate for you for once, but he had unfortunately been on tour at the time, causing you to be separated during that day. this only made him want to put even more effort into your birthday next year, which was now. today. the day in which he had ultimately forgotten your birthday.

there was not much to it. he had a nice day planned for you. he wasn't too good with surprises, so he had let you know in advance, allowing you to prepare yourself accordingly. you both had work that day, so he had planned a candlelit dinner for you, having even learned how to cook your favorite foods just to add that extra layer of care. the original plan was to come home from work early - earlier than you - and follow the recipes he had gone over with mingyu a few times over the past few weeks. it was simple, concise and direct. there was very little room for failure. but it had still somehow managed to slip his mind. he wanted to blame mingyu for his insistence in going back to their shared apartment after practice, something about some game he wanted to show him. but he couldnt blame his clueless friend, it wasnt his responsibility to know your birthday. he'd sworn he would only stay for an hour and then promptly leave to go home to you, but one hour turned into two and then three. it was a genuine slip of his mind, but that didn't make a difference.

wonwoo was quite surprised upon picking up his phone from where he'd left it charging upon arriving to his apartment, not realizing it had stayed on do not disturb the entire time. he was welcomed by a myriad of messages from you, all of them ranging in emotion.

from jagiya 💘:

(4:25) nonu?

(4:25) are you coming home soon?

(5:07) okay, its been almost an hour now. is everything okay?

(6:35) baby?

(6:48) i tried calling you already. where are you?

(6:48) just checked ur location and ur at ur apt. did you forget?

(9:02) it's been over two hours now ...

(9:15) okay, nevermind. don't come. we can just do this another day.

(9:16) i'll be out with some friends. goodnight.

his heart dropped more and more the more he read. he immediately went to call you and spam with responses, but found no reply from you. it only served him right. he would now spend the rest of the night dreading how to make it up to you, feeling the worst guilt he'd ever felt.

mingyu -

you'd always thought of mingyu as one of the sweetest men alive. he had helped you restore your faith in humanity, seeing him as the prime example of what a man should be. he was the most selfless person you'd ever met. ever since you'd begun dating (and even before that, if we're being honest), he had always been at your beck and call, providing you with anything you could possibly need. he'd love and take care of you in ways that you hadn't imagined possible. you'd never been disappointed by mingyu. but now you realize maybe you had flown too close to the sun. mingyu was just human after all. you shouldn't have felt as disappointed as you did. but you couldn't help your emotions, nor did you want to blame yourself over this.

the issue at hand was, today was your birthday. today, at least basing it on prior years, was always filled with the utmost love and affection a person could ever experience. all courtesy of one kim mingyu. he would wake you up with breakfast, rush you into the shower and hold you close to him as he washed your hair and whispered words of affirmation in your ear. he would proceed to take you somewhere pretty and have a full on photoshoot as he hyped you up from behind the camera. he would plan some special outing for the evening and end the day with a moonlit dinner from the beautiful view from his apartment's balcony. it was always such a dream. but this birthday in particular had been the outlier.

he unfortunately had a comeback on the same week of your birthday, causing his schedule to be more hectic than usual. he had a few things scheduled for your birthday itself, but knowing mingyu you knew he would at least come home to you that night and shower you with as much love as his exhausted self could. but that never came. you waited and waited, knowing mingyu's day had ended hours ago. at some point you simply gave up and called him, wondering where he was, if maybe something was wrong. however, his response was one that left you feeling dejected, something mingyu had never made you feel.

"gyu? where are you?", you'd said as soon as he picked up.

"hm? hi, baby. i'm at the shared apartment. wonwoo hyung wanted to leave early today. what's up, baby?"

not even a quick 'happy birthday'? did he really not remember? you felt kind of embarrassed at having gotten your hopes up for yet another year of special treatment from your boyfriend.

"uhh, nothing gyu. just checking in. are you staying there tonight?"

"yeah. thought it'd be easier since it's a bit closer to the company than your place. is that okay? sorry, baby. i shouldve let you know beforehand," even when he was unknowingly hurting your feelings he managed to be a sweetheart.

"it's fine, gyu. have a goodnight. you must be tired."

"okay, pretty," he giggled boyishly at the phone, fully clueless of your feelings, "sleep tight. love you!"

"yeah, bye."

you'd never hung up on him before a quick 'i love you' before. it mightve a dumb thing to even care about, but you knew that to mingyu's romantic nature it meant everything. which is why you weren't surprised when twenty minutes later your phone began to be flooded by calls and messages from the man, at first wondering why you had hung up like that, only to then evolve into him begging for forgiveness as he explained that he had forgotten your special day, and that it had taken wonwoo's reminder that your birthday fell this week for him to realize his mistake. but this was now his problem to deal with. if he wanted forgiveness, he'd have to come and get it.

vernon -

vernon had a bit of a tendency of being forgetful. it only came hand in hand with his tendency of being a little distracted while out and about. he wasn't careless by any means, but he could sometimes be too in his own world to notice what happened around him. which would sometimes get him into hot waters with you.

he hadn't noticed your hints, he swears! he didn't hear the suggestive tones nor the subtle nudges you'd been giving him for the past month. he hadn't thought much of it when you began texting him about places you two should visit soon, nor when you'd began to talk more about certain interests you'd been having as of late. he had just assumed you were trying to make conversation, so he treated it as such.

when your birthday had actually come, vernon hadn't known it was anything other than an ordinary day. he woke up, making sure to not wake you in the process. he'd gotten up, headed to the company, and followed his regular schedule. it was a particularly busy day, so going on his phone had been mostly out of the question. the two of you weren't really in the habit of texting much throughout the day, usually choosing to just catch up with each other at night when you could lay in bed together and dissect each other's days. he spent a majority of the day fully disconnected from outside contact, focusing solely on the harsh new choreo they needed to memorize for next week's awards show. he knew you were aware it was a busy time of the year for the industry he worked in, so he felt it fine to stay a little extra time today without messaging you first. this was something that happened from time to time anyway, so it shouldn'tve been a problem, right? or at least that's what he thought until he finally plucked his phone out of his bag, where it had been hiding the entire day.

from: baby 😖:

(9:23) u left so early :((

(9:23) shouldve woken me up so i could say goodbye!

(12:58) nonnie, it's been a few hours now ... did u forget something?

(1:20) no reply still?

(1:21) did you actually forget? :(

(1:21) i've been hinting at it for a month. i thought u were being obtuse on purpose :(

(1:48) can u at least come home a little early today? im sure soonyoung wont mind

(2:35) okay, ill take that as a no :(

(4:48) hansol ...

(6:12) okay, i guess you're gonna be home later than usual today.

(7:10) it's my birthday btw, in case it didnt click by now.

(7:16) maybe you should stay at the dorms tonight. not really in the mood for you to spend the night. im sorry. love you

fucking hell. vernon had never felt like more of a careless asshole. he had spent the entire day away from you, completely clueless to the fact that it was the love of his life's birthday. you weren't one to ask for much, so he knew a simple happy birthday accompanied by even just his presence for a shared meal wouldve been more than enough to make you happy. but his stupid distracted self couldn't even muster enough care for that. he wasnt sure what to do now. should he go to your apartment and beg for forgiveness? or stay here, like a dog with his tail between his legs as he pondered some way to make it up to you? all he knew was that he messed up. hugely.

a/n: i hate writing unresolved angst but uhh yeah if u want a pt 2 lmk <3

[alchemistc]

911 was always in my periphery bc of how popular Buck x Eddie is on Tumblr and Ao3. I didn't really want to watch a cable network procedural drama, especially one that came off as so unserious. I could also see how such invested shipping by a lot of fans who are young and think it’s ok to demand things from the cast and crew would inevitably become a toxic cesspool. I stand by that assessment of the show based on the behavior of the fandom these last months, as well as the overall quality of the writing and how often good story lines just get dropped or undermined.

However, I heard about Buck coming out. Over the summer, I was going through a lot and feeling aimless, so I finally started watching the show. And I liked Buck and Tommy, but what I really loved was the quality of the fan works they inspired. At the end of the day, I never really had real expectations of high quality television from a show like 911; that’s not what it’s for.

Despite this, what really affected me last night—which was also the first episode I bothered watching live ever because of how terrible this last week has been—wasn’t even how badly it was executed or the fact that they broke up. But how unnecessarily and viciously cruel the whole thing felt?

What was the point of showing Tommy as a caring, supportive, present partner in the previous episode if it was going to lead to an unceremonious break up? What was the point of showing his yearning for connection and family only to see him throw it all away? Why have him say such wonderful things about Buck moments before questioning the commitment of their relationship after six months together? What was the point of Buck getting that speech from Josh and bringing up marriage and moving in together and that Tommy had been a transformative relationship when it was going to end with him being dumped? It just felt so horribly cruel to see a character bare his tender heart and see it get stomped on. He looked so sad at the end.

Up till the very end of the episode, I was actually really enjoying it. Their acting was so good from heart eyes to heartbreak, and the show seemed to understand Tommy’s reaction to Buck getting hit on by those women would cause friction. It even made sense to me that Tommy would recoil at the prospect of moving in together because Buck clearly hasn’t come to terms with being queer yet (sir, you haven’t researched the Kinsey scale? You?) And Tommy is also clearly afraid to reach for the connections he wants and the seeming inevitability of his heart being broken and is masking that with nonsense about Buck needing to play the field and the biphobia present wherein. It was such an interesting depth to his character! I thought the break up speech was so well-acted, and I was so ready for the conversation they were going to have that would address it and let them move on together stronger. To see Buck learn from Josh and see the scars Tommy was unintentionally revealing in that moment and address them.

And then the credits started rolling and I felt like I got punched in the gut.

It was definitely the straw that broke the camel’s back for me, with the election and other personal stuff really stressing me out this week. Last night, I felt sick and unable to sleep, and I spent the morning bawling my eyes out. It feels like one of the few things I really looked forward to had been snatched away for the shock factor. I believe the interviews are the definite death knell, but even if you don’t follow the interviews, it was just a cruel way to end the episode. Even if this ends up being a temporary roadblock or they “fix” it, it’ll always leave a bad taste in my mouth.

Anyway, I’m upset that I let a show I always knew wasn’t very good affect me this much, and I regret spending months of my life on it. But the reason I wanted to send this ask was because my real hyperfixation these last few months was never the show itself; it was always the Bucktommy fandom. Reading some of the most beautiful fanfiction, including yours, these deep and intense character studies or au’s or future fics that show more love to these characters than the show does. The stunning art, the lovingly rendered gifs, the startlingly funny and insightful writing. The fandom has been my real love, and I hope that despite this huge blow, people like you will continue being so immensely creative and artistic for this ship.

I’m sorry this has been so long and vent-y, but I wanted to send you this ask because you’re one of my favorite fic authors, and I’ve been following your posts since last night and you’re still responding to anonymous asks. I’ve always been stealth in the fandom to avoid certain parts of it, so didn’t want this on my own blog. If you do publish it, I hope the other authors and artists and creators who have made my life better get to see it too <3 And that they don’t regret the time and passion and love they’ve poured into the last few months. I have appreciated it, if nothing else.

Hi.

First of all, please don't apologize for the length of this.

Everything you pointed out were exactly the reasons people joined this fandom. Everything you listed here is EXACTLY the reason it left such a bad taste in our mouth.

I'm sorry I won't be more eloquent in this post, because this is such a kind and thoughtful and lovely summation of all the things I've been hearing and seeing and feeling.

The point of all that, if we are to believe Lou (which I do, and honestly props to him for being as gracious as he was in those post-mortems: fucking TWO exit interviews for a guest star? wtf abc), WAS to pull the rug out from under the audience. It WAS to end it all on a shocker of heartbreak. They filmed the bulk of Tommy's S8 scenes AFTER the breakup. It is absolutely vicious and cruel and meant to make people talk about it. The engagement they are getting right now is to some extent WHAT THEY WANTED. I went straight to my notes after work and I can't be fucked to check the insta or FB to see if they've posted anything new and/or what the comment count is on the 8x06 posts but THIS IS THE INTENDED RESULT. Broken hearts, upset people, an increasingly toxic fandom crowing.

That's where I'm at. I think that's where a lot of people have landed. And it's so disheartening to see something that really genuinely drew people in because it was handled so gently and kindly at first just be ripped away and the door shut on it.

And honestly if they close the mid season OR open or close 8B on a premise that includes one of them being injured and the other having a Realization™️ I won't trust this team to do it genuinely or truly. Even the breakup would have held so much potential for me, but not like this.

Anyway. I'm sorry you're feeling so disappointed. I am grieving the missed potential of literally every plot they built up this season for every character and if I do watch it won't be live and I will likely have very little trust for it's potential. There has been So Much wasted potential.

And I want to say thank you. Even if you lurked, even if you disengage now, the creators who made those works made them out of love and they wanted to share them and the community around it all has been lovely to see. Thank you.

Some of us will still be hanging around building the world that could have been. I hope, if you feel up to peeking at that sandbox, that you feel welcome to go play in it or even just clap from the sidelines.

♥️

[dragonbarbie]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 | Part 3

aegon x best friend!reader ; modern!au

summary: this fic is snippets of aegon and reader's relationship as they grow up and discover new feelings. but to let himself be loved, aegon has to first do some growing up.

rating: 18+, minors dni.

tags: alcohol, substance abuse, making out, finger fucking, handjob, praise kink, oh and soul-crushing angst :)

word count: 8.2k (i... dont even know what to say aegon makes me distracted)

previous part

series masterlist

A/N: things are finally getting spicey

lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

divider credit @ cafekitsune! title of fic is from 'peter' by taylor swift.

Age 19

Sunspear wasn’t bad. In fact, Y/N loved it most days. The warm Dornish sun that kissed her skin every morning, the sea breeze that swept through the streets, and the vibrancy of the people made her feel alive. She’d made friends—good ones—and liked most of her classes. The city had charm, a warmth she didn’t expect, and a pace she could keep up with.

But somehow, since she’d moved here for college, everything felt a little hollow without Aegon. No matter how beautiful the sunsets were, how lively the city, or how many people surrounded her, there was a part of her that felt incomplete. Every holiday weekend, she looked forward to going back to King’s Landing just to hang out with him, only to be disappointed when he was off on some trip with his new friends, always busy with something or someone else.

Lately, though she’d found one distraction of her own: Qoren Martell. The kind, funny, downright hot boy she had been talking to for a while. At a party on campus one weekend, she had somehow ended up taking him back up to her dorm and hooking up with him. She didn’t know what she had expected his reaction to be the next morning, but when with a dashingly sunny smile he’d asked her for dinner, she couldn’t imagine turning him down. She was positively floating with excitement about the upcoming date, and there was no one else she wanted to gush about the new boy in her life to, than her best friend. The only problem was – Aegon had seemingly gone awol.

All day, Y/N’s phone sat on the table beside her, the screen flickering to life now and then with notifications. But none of them were from Aegon.

She tried to focus on her readings, flipping through textbooks, scribbling notes, and chatting with her friends between classes, but her mind kept wandering back to her phone. Each time it buzzed, her heart leapt with a flash of hope, only to come crashing down when it was just another random message or a social media update. No Aegon.

Her fingers hovered over his contact more times than she could count that day. She’d already sent him two texts in the morning: “Hey! Call me when you’re up :)” and “You alive?” Nothing. Hours passed, and she sent another, this time shorter, tinged with impatience: “You around?”

Still, no response.

She tried calling him, just to hear his voice, hoping he’d pick up. But after three rings, it went to voicemail, like it had so many times before. “It’s Aegon. Leave a message or don’t, whatever.” The tone of his message was casual, almost dismissive, but it felt like a punch to the gut. She hung up, biting back her frustration.

Why was he being like this? It wasn’t the first time he’d gone dark on her for days at a time, but it hadn’t always been this way. Before they had left for college, Aegon had been different — always around, always close. But now... It felt like he was slipping through her fingers, like the connection that had always felt unbreakable between them was fraying with every passing day.

Her texts and calls to him became more frequent as the day went on. “Where are you?” “Call me back.” “I need to talk to you.” Each one shorter, more pointed, as her frustration built up. It wasn’t like she was needy, or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself. It was just that today, she needed him. For once, she was the one with something important to share. Something that made her excited and nervous all at once. But Aegon was nowhere to be found.

Instead, she guessed, he was probably out with his new friends. Drinking. Partying. Having a great time without her. The thought twisted in her chest, leaving a sour taste in her mouth. She had seen the posts—pictures of him with a different crowd, new faces, girls, all of them smiling and laughing in places she’d never be invited to.

Aegon used to call her almost every night when they’d first gone to college. Even if it was just to chat, to vent, or to ask her what he should eat for dinner. But lately, those calls had become fewer and far between, replaced by half-hearted texts and vague replies. Sometimes he didn’t answer at all. He was always “busy,” or “with friends.” New friends. People she didn’t know, people he’d never mentioned before.

What was so important that he couldn’t even bother to text her back?

When she reached back to her dorm, Y/N threw her phone down on the bed, flopping beside it as her irritation simmered. She wanted to be angry at herself for caring so much. She had other things to focus on—classes, her friends here in Sunspear, the Martell boy who made her laugh. She was happy, or at least she should be. But Aegon’s silence gnawed at her, a constant reminder that something had shifted between them, and not in a good way.

She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. It wasn’t like before when they’d talk for hours about nothing and everything when he made her feel like she was the only one who knew him. Now, it was like she was just another voice in the background, easily ignored.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. How could he just... Vanish like this? He knew how much they meant to each other—he had to know. And yet, here she was, alone in her room, clutching her phone like it was some lifeline, waiting for a message that might not even come.

The anger built up, flooding her veins with heat. For once, she had something to tell him, something important, and he couldn’t even bother to be there for her. And whenever he had something? Whenever he wanted to talk about his latest hobby, the new song he wrote or just whatever crazy thing the latest girl he had slept with had done after finding out he wanted nothing more to do with her – Y/N was there for him. Listening to him go on and on, on the phone, never once complaining or bored. This was how he repaid her? He was always unreachable now, off with people who seemed to be more interesting, more fun than she could ever be.

She stared at her phone again, jaw clenched, tapping her fingers against her thigh. Just one reply, she thought. One text and I’ll feel better.

But as the minutes ticked by, the screen stayed dark, and the weight of his absence grew heavier. Eventually, she got tired of staring at her lock screen and realised looking at the time that she should be getting dressed for her date, and put her ungrateful idiot of a best friend out of her mind.

Just as she gave up and stood up from her bed though, her phone rang. It was him.

For a split second, relief washed over her. Finally. But as soon as she answered, the irritation she’d been holding onto all day surged to the surface.

“Aegon, what the fuck? I’ve been trying to reach you all day” she snapped, pacing across her room. Her heart was pounding, both from anger and the desperation of needing to hear from him.

On the other end of the line, there was a moment of silence—long enough to make her pause, her breath catching. Then she heard it: the unmistakable sound of Aegon sobbing.

Her heart dropped.

“Aegon?” She whispered, her anger evaporating almost immediately. She could tell from the way he was struggling to breathe, from the hitch in his voice, that something was terribly wrong. “What’s going on?”

“They found out,” he choked out, his voice thick with tears. “My parents... They found out I’ve been missing assignments, failing classes. Everything. They’re so fucking pissed, Y/N. Mum said she won’t get them to pass me this time if I don’t come intern with grandfather this break. They—they threatened to take away my trust fund if I don’t pull it together.”

Y/N sank onto her bed, clutching the phone tighter, her anger dissolving into concern as she listened. Aegon was never like this. He was always so laid back, putting on the devil may care persona, always trying to stow away his vulnerability. But she knew, oh she always knew, the sensitive boy who hid underneath there. Hearing him this upset tugged at her heartstrings in a way that made her chest ache.

“I just... I don’t know what to do,” he continued, his voice raw, as though the words were being ripped out of him. “I hate it here. I’m fucking drowning in this place. It’s so dead, and fucking ancient and…and...” His breath hitched again. “It doesn’t even have you in it.”

Those words stopped her cold.

The burn of irritation she’d carried all day flickered out, replaced by a deep ache. She could almost see him, sitting somewhere alone, head in his hands, breaking apart at the seams. The Aegon who had been partying with new friends, drinking himself into oblivion, wasn’t here right now. This was the real Aegon—the broken boy who hated being left alone, who always needed to have someone hold him, keep him together. Someone, who was more often than not, her.

“Aegon... I’m so sorry.” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, “I didn’t know things were this bad.”

“It’s just... It’s all fucked up right now, and I can’t stand being here anymore. Everything’s falling apart. And I miss you. I fucking miss you so much.”

Y/N closed her eyes, her heart swelling with empathy. The way he said it—so vulnerable, so real—cut right through her. All the anger she’d built up over the day melted away. She couldn’t stay mad at him, not when he was hurting like this.

She wanted to say something, anything, to make it better. To tell him that it would be alright. But the words got caught in her throat. All she could do was sit there, holding onto the phone, her heart heavy with the weight of his pain.

She heard him sigh deeply on the other end, making her want to reach through the phone and pull him into a hug, to somehow make all of this disappear for him. But she couldn’t. She was hundreds of miles away, stuck in her own life.

When he’d finally gotten it all out of his system, the sobs quieted and his breathing evened out. It was like the storm had passed, leaving behind a hollow calm. “So, what did you wanna talk about?” He asked, his voice still rough, but lighter now, almost as if he’d forgotten his own sadness for a moment.

Y/N blinked, startled by the question. For a second, she’d forgotten, too. Then her eyes flicked down to her phone, and she saw the text notification from her date—“Leaving now, see you soon.”

She hesitated, staring at the message. It would’ve been so easy to tell Aegon the truth, to share the excitement she’d felt earlier. But now, after everything he’d just said, it felt wrong. Like rubbing salt in an open wound. She couldn’t just hang up and go about her night, no. Aegon needed her. And nothing, nothing, could ever come before Aegon for her.

She sighed and started typing out an excuse to Qoren, her fingers moving quickly as she lied into the phone without hesitation. “I was thinking about taking scuba lessons while I’m down here, thoughts?”

There was a pause, and then Aegon snorted. “And prayers. You don’t even know how to swim.”

“I do know how to swim!” She protested, rolling her eyes even though he couldn’t see it, smiling despite herself. “No, you don’t. You’ve always refused to swim with me in the pool back home. You just sit outside with a stupid book every summer.” “Because last time I did come in, you perved at me in my bikini,” she shot back, laughing.

“Oh right,” he said, his tone lighter now, teasing. She could almost hear the cocky grin in his voice. “That coral blue thing, right? Great memory. I can still recall it... Clinging to you in all the right places…”

“Aegon!” She shouted, laughing harder now as he started going into details.

“What? I’m just saying, it was a good look on you. A really, really good look.”

“God, you’re impossible,” she muttered, but there was no anger in her voice now, just warmth as she fell back onto her bed, the weight of the day lifting just a little.

Age 20

Y/N stepped off the taxi into the cool night air, her heart racing with anticipation as she took in the grand spires of Oldtown College.

The trip was almost impulsive. After two years of living in different states and months of practically all their communication being restricted to texting once a week, Y/N decided enough was enough. She had this long weekend free and she asked him what he thought about her coming to visit. He replied “HELLLZ YEA$” and “well get shitfacedd,” which she took as a yes.

She had spent the past few hours imagining his reaction when he saw her, thinking about how much she had missed him. This sudden visit was supposed to be special, a weekend just for them. She was not going to let anything ruin this.

She adjusted the strap of the bag on her shoulder and made her way through the sprawling campus. Everything looked so medieval and stunning, almost imposingly so at times; as if the history of this place was larger than life. She made a mental note to make Aegon properly show her around. But the directions Aegon had given her seemed to take her away from the scenic, old city and out to the outskirts.

She ended up at a large, slightly rundown house, clearly a fraternity. She hesitated at the entrance, the open door spilling the sound of music and laughter out into the night. There was a crowd out on the lawn, and from what she could hear, one inside the building too. She glanced down at her phone to recheck the address, pulling at the helm of the denim skirt she wore in nervousness as she looked around the crowd, but she was pretty sure if the smell of weed and alcohol was anything to go by this place was Aegon’s.

Taking a deep breath, she walked up the front porch steps and inside the house, stepping into a chaotic scene of students, red solo cups in hand, grinding to loud music she couldn’t make out the words to.

“Aegon?” She called out, her voice barely audible over the noise. The sea of unfamiliar faces made her nervous, and she started fidgeting with the strap of her carry-on as she anxiously scanned the place for familiar mop of platinum-blonde hair.

“There she is!” Y/N was startled as two arms suddenly wrapped around her from her side, but she relaxed immediately seeing their owner. “oh thank god, I was half scared you’d forgotten I was showing up today” she chuckled, as she shifted to hug him properly. “are you kidding? It’s all I’ve been talking about all week, ask any of the guys.” She felt an immediate sense of relief, once Aegon was with her, hugging him felt as familiar as her room back home. He smelled exactly as she remembered – the same almost sweet-smelling cologne he’d worn since he was 15, the one she had gifted him, mixed with a strong hint of weed and ash. His arms around her felt the same as they did two years ago too, pressing her impossibly close to his chest as if he couldn’t quite trust her to stay.

When she pulled back from him, he wore one of his lazy smiles, but there was something off in his eyes that made her frown slightly. She realised the bags underneath his eyes were darker and he was sweating all over. Okay, maybe it wasn’t all familiar. “you okay?” She searched his face, but he reflected nothing other than his usual impishness, though his eyes felt unusually blank to her. “you’re here I’m more than a-okay, I’m great. Now this party can finally start!” Looking around Y/N wondered if this was the party before it had even started then she didn’t want to stick around to watch it ‘begin.’

“let’s grab you a drink” Aegon took hold of her wrist and started to pull her into the party, but she grabbed she forearm with her free hand to stop him. “I’ve just been on one long train ride, then a taxi, I think I’d rather freshen up first. Can we go to my hotel? Were you able to book that cute, old B&B, the Tower Inn, I asked you to?”

He scratched the back of his neck, glancing at the ground as his grin faltered. “Oh, right… about that… I, uh, forgot.” He winced slightly, but before she could respond, he quickly added, “But it’s fine, you can stay here at the frat! We’ve got plenty of space.”

Y/N’s smile wavered. “Stay here? Aegon, I don’t know if that’s—”

“Hey, it’ll be fun!” Aegon interrupted, grabbing her shoulders with his grin back in full force. His eyes fell on the bag she was carrying and he took it off her, “and anyway you can’t leave, I’ve thrown this party in your honour, after all.” He walked a few steps into a hallway to his left, opening the first door, a door she hoped opened into his room and not some random person’s as he threw her bag in there, unceremoniously. “Plus, it’s just for a weekend. What’s the worst that could happen?”

There were in fact many answers she could think to that question, knowing Aegon. Before she could tell him that this wasn’t how she had imagined their weekend together though, he’d grabbed her hand and was already pulling her deeper into the crowd.

He thrust into her hand a solo cup which smelled so strong Y/N wanted to keep it at arm’s length. He then went about introducing her to his frat brothers and friends as enthusiastically as possible, but he wouldn’t let her linger with any one of them. He moved through the room with such easy confidence, Y/N was reminded of why all the girls back at school found his ways charming instead of irritating as she often did. Y/N didn’t have as easy a time at the party though. The room was a whirl of noise and energy, and as much as she tried to immerse herself in it, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place.

After a while, Aegon started to get distracted, his attention repeatedly drifting away from Y/N. First, it was a group of his frat brothers who pulled him into a conversation about some upcoming trip. Then, he got roped into a drinking game, which somehow left him with his shirt off. Y/N tried to pull him aside, fitting him his shirt as she attempted to talk to him about how things had been going for her at college. He seemed to be simply nodding to what she was saying, as he patted his pockets to find something. When his pockets turned up empty, he made an excuse and rushed away to the bathroom. Y/N could only stand there blinking at the place which was previously occupied by him.

Upon his return, she observed there was an extra pep in his step, he seemed to be bursting with energy even more than usual. His words came out rushed, and his eyes were unfocused, even when he was talking to Y/N she had the distinct feeling he wasn’t really listening. It didn’t take long for her to figure out what exactly had changed from the last time she’d seen him.

She tried to stay close to him, but every time she turned around, he was off again, engaged in some new activity or laughing with another group of friends. Eventually, Y/N found herself sipping a suspicious soda she found in the fridge, forcing smiles whenever someone glanced her way, but inside, she was starting to feel more like a spectator than a guest of honour.

From where she stood on the sidelines, her eyes followed Aegon’s figure around the room, the feeling that this weekend might have been a mistake now sinking in. All she’d wanted was for it to be like old times for just one weekend, just the two of them hanging around like they did back in school. She was starting to realise that maybe Aegon wasn’t the same person he was back in school anymore.

Aegon, now deep into his drinks, seemed completely at ease, blending into the chaos around him. But every time Y/N caught his eye, he would flash her a quick smile, as if that would somehow make up for his absence. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, other than stand all alone by the edge of the room, feeling increasingly invisible.

She was lost in her thoughts when a tall guy with a sleazy smirk approached her. He was holding a half-empty beer and leaned in too close for comfort. “Hey there,” he said smoothly, a little too smoothly, his eyes roving over her in a way that made her skin crawl. “You look like you could use some company.”

Y/N stiffened, glancing around the room for Aegon, but he was nowhere in sight. “I’m fine, thanks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady and polite, but the guy didn’t take the hint. He stepped closer, his grin widening as he reached out to touch her arm.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he coaxed, his tone dripping with false charm. “Let me get you a real drink. You’re too pretty to be standing here all by yourself.”

Before she could respond, she felt a familiar arm sling around her shoulders, pulling her close in a protective, yet slightly possessive, gesture. “ah! there you are Y/N, I see you’ve found our resident creep Walder” Aegon’s voice cut through the tension, slurred and slightly rough, but still carrying enough authority.

The guy’s eyes widened in recognition, his cocky demeanour instantly replaced with a more cautious one. “Oh, sorry, Egg,” he stammered, raising his hands in a mock surrender. “Didn’t know she was your girl.”

Aegon didn’t bother to correct him, his grip on Y/N’s shoulder tightening for a moment. Only when the other guy quickly slinked away into the crowd, did Aegon let his arm drop to his side, leaving Y/N standing there with a mixture of relief and irritation inside her.

She turned to Aegon, shrugging off the lingering sensation of his arm around her. “What was that about?” She demanded, her voice sharp, though she was trying to keep her emotions in check.

Aegon just shrugged, as he raised his beer to his lips. “he’s a dick,” he muttered before taking a long swig, his eyes already drifting back to the party as if nothing had happened.

Y/N’s frustration flared. “after freezing me out for most of the night you can’t just show up and act like some kind of knight in shining armour.”

Aegon rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by her reaction. “he’s an ass, I just stepped in to handle it. Stop making a big deal out of nothing.”

“That’s the problem, Aegon!” She snapped, her voice rising with her anger. “You act like everything is just... Whatever. Like nothing matters! You didn’t even correct him when he assumed I was just... Just some girl with you for the night.”

“So what?” Aegon shot back, his irritation now matching hers. “What difference does it make? What does it matter what he thinks?”

“It matters to me!” Y/N shouted, her voice filled with the intensity of her emotions. “I came all this way to see you, and all you’ve done is ignore me and get drunk. Do you even care that I’m here?” “I don’t need this right now.” He muttered, looking around the room again as if searching for an escape.

Y/N felt a lump rise in her throat, the hurt overwhelming her. “oh, I’m sorry am I killing your buzz? Fine then,” she said, her voice trembling with barely contained tears. “I’m out of here.”

Without waiting for his response, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, her vision blurred by the tears she was desperately trying to hold back. She pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances thrown her way, and made her way upstairs, locking herself in the first room she saw which turned out to be the bathroom.

She leaned against the door as she finally let the tears spill freely, sobs escaping her throat. She slid down to the floor, her head in her hands, the weight of the night crashing down on her. This wasn’t how she had imagined their reunion, not at all. It was supposed to be special, but instead, it was turning into a nightmare.

A few minutes passed before she heard a knock on the door. “Y/N?” Aegon’s voice was hesitant, still slurred but tinged with a mix of frustration and concern. “Come on, open up. I know you’re in there. Why are you being like this?”

She didn’t respond, trying to stifle her sobs lest he hear them. But the knocking persisted, followed by the sound of him leaning against the door. “Y/N, seriously, just let me in,” he mumbled, his tone softening slightly.

For a second he sounded so sincere, so much like her best friend, that she could almost forget that he was the reason she was crying on the bathroom floor in the first place.

She hesitated, but then stood and unlocked the door, opening it just enough to see him standing there. His usual confident demeanour had slipped slightly, replaced with a defeated look of annoyance as he leaned against the doorframe. “Why are you being such a Debbie downer?” He whined, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“I came all this way to see you and you’ve…” she repeated, her voice cracking as she wiped away the tears. She knew who her best friend was, she knew he had never been the guy to stick by her side all night, to ignore the world when she was around, to make her feel like she was the only person in the world he cared about. But the display of the night had set a new low bar, even for him.

“You always do this,” he muttered, his words slurring slightly as he swayed on his feet, his voice filled with annoyance. “You show up, and suddenly I’m supposed to drop everything, like nothing else matters. Well, I can’t! It’s a party, and I’m not going to babysit you all night.” He sounded so thoughtless and inconsiderate, his face looked so exhausted by the idea of having to be around her.

Her heart twisted at his words, enough anger to make her want to throw something at him flared up inside her and mixed with the sadness of being like a burden to him. “oh well, forgive me for thinking my best friend of ten fucking years would prioritise seeing me for one stupid weekend over attending one of his hundred parties” he looked positively offended at her words and shot, “I threw this one for you!” “Well, I didn’t ask for this!” She snapped back, her voice rising. “I just wanted to spend time with you, Aegon.” Though rage filled her, she should couldn’t help how her tone softened, when she added, “Is that so hard?”

He let out a sharp, exasperated breath, his eyes narrowing, though she could tell he was having a hard time focusing. She was now close enough in that suffocating bathroom to see the beads of sweat on his forehead and neck. His breathing seemed more rapid, she was sure she could hear his heartbeat if she honed in on the sound. This wasn’t the effect of just weed and alcohol, she knew how he reacted to those.

He rubbed his face with his fingers, before dragging them through his hair making them appear even more unruly. “It’s not about it being hard, Y/N. It’s just... Things get complicated with you. You come in with these expectations, and I’m just… I don’t know how to be what you want!” His frustration was clear, but she couldn’t understand what the hell he was so frustrated about.

“What expectations?” Y/N’s voice was incredulous, and confused at his words. Aegon opened his mouth to start to say something to her in response but then stopped midway. He turned around, his back now facing her as he rubbed his eyes, as if talking to her now was a strain on them.

Her anger bubbled over once again, “I just wanted you to act like you cared! Like maybe I wasn’t just some afterthought to you. But how can you even do that when you’re high out of your mind on coke.”

Aegon suddenly turned back to her at the accusation, looking defensive but taken aback. “Don’t start with that,” he shot back as he took a step towards her, his voice sharp despite the slurring. “I’m fine, Y/N. You don’t need to come in here and act like you know what’s best for me.”

“Fine? You call this fine?” Y/N’s voice cracked with a mix of anger and concern. She took a step towards him and grabbed his soaking wet t-shirt, “You’re sweating like this in a fully air-conditioned house, you keep going to the bathroom every five seconds like you ate some bad curry and your eyes are so unfocused you’ve barely looked at me this entire time.” Aegon in response looked less like an addict apprehended and more like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. He looked sheepish almost, his eyes looking away from her, but she caught some shame behind them. Were it anyone else giving him this lecture he would have laughed in their face, but the fact that it was her, it seemed to break through his confident façade.

Her gaze momentarily dropped from his eyes to his lips and she let out a dry, humourless laugh as she saw leftover vestiges of some white powder on his upper lip. She reached out with one hand to brush it aside, sighing sadly “I’m guessing this isn’t sugar.” She had a sudden realisation then how intimate the moment had become, they were standing only inches apart, with one of her hands still grabbing his shirt, the other cupping his face. He looked back at her with a vulnerability that left her feeling like her cheeks were on fire. He didn’t ask her for space, but she suddenly felt like she needed to be miles away from him.

“you know what, you’re right.” She let go of him and cleared her throat as she took a step back. “actually you don’t even need to be in here with me, I’m clearly keeping you from this rager of a party and probably some grade-a-quality coke.” The smell of sweat and smoke mixed in with whiskey and expensive cologne, the smell of Aegon, was getting too much for her when she stood this close to him. She tried to take a few more steps away, as much as the small place would allow when he suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

“You don’t get to judge me. You think I don’t care? You think I don’t want to be with you?” She blinked back at his almost pitiful expression, eyes that seemed like they were seconds away from spilling tears. For a second she thought the emphasis with which he said the phrase ‘be with you’ he might not mean just the party, but she couldn’t be sure and the moment fleeted as he went on, “I’m doing my best, but I’m not going to change who I am just because you want something different!” his words spilling out faster than his brain could process them, his frustration mingling with the fog of intoxication.

“I’m not asking you to change who you are!” Y/N shot back, her voice rising in intensity. “I’m asking you to stop pretending like everything’s cool. You keep pushing me away, and then you act like it’s my fault.”

“Maybe it is your fault!” He accused with his voice rising enough to make Y/N flinch and take a step back, but he didn’t let go of her wrist and instead walked closer to her, backing them up till she was against the wall, trapped by him. “because this is what you do. You look at me with those big-big eyes, expecting me to be someone different, someone good, someone more like you. But I’m not you. And I can’t be.” He sounded so resigned, as if this was always how it was going to be, how he was going to be. And the fact that she wanted something better for him was nothing more than a distant, impossible dream. She noticed the tears welling in his eyes were now escaping and she had to do everything in her power to remain mad at him and not wipe them away. Though his tone was one of anger, his expression looked as if this pained him, as if he was cursed and she wasn’t understanding how doomed he was. “I can’t be who you need me to be. And maybe if you didn’t come in here expecting that, expecting everything to be perfect, we wouldn’t be having this fight!”

She scoffed at his words, “Perfect? I of all people would never expect perfect from you Aegon. And I’ve never said you need to be so. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to give a damn! About me, about yourself—about anything!”

They were close now, the space between them almost non-existent, their breaths coming fast and harsh. Aegon still held onto her wrist tight enough to hurt her, but she stared up at him almost defiantly. The air crackled with unresolved tension, the anger between them sparking like a live wire.

Aegon swayed slightly, his hands trembling as he struggled to keep his balance, his whole body tense with frustration. “You think I don’t give a damn?” He growled, his voice low and dangerous, though the slur was still there. “You think I don’t care?”

Before she could respond, Aegon pulled her toward him by the wrist he had been holding capture, with a force that was more clumsy than intentional. His lips crashed against hers in a kiss that was fierce and unyielding, all the pent-up anger and frustration pouring out in that single, desperate moment. It was a collision, an explosion of everything they hadn’t been able to say, their argument turning into something else entirely.

Y/N responded instinctively, her free hand gripping the front of his shirt as if to hold on, the intensity of the kiss taking her by surprise. The anger that had fuelled their fight was still there, but it was being channelled into something raw and primal, a release of all the emotions they had been bottling up. Aegon’s movements were uncoordinated, the kiss messy and driven by the haze of alcohol and drugs, but it was full of the desperate need to connect, to keep her so close to him that she could not leave. His tongue wasted no time in pushing past her lips, with little to no defence being put up by Y/N. As his tongue massaged hers, he finally let go of her wrist and instead reached to put his hands under her shirt, touching the soft skin of her bare lower back. Her own hands reached for his hair, fisting the pale blonde strands for dear life.

He broke the kiss only to travel to the side of her neck, making Y/N gasp with the ferocity with which he attached himself there. She felt the euphoric feeling of his soft lips against her sensitive skin interchange with him cutting at it with his teeth every once in a while, the whiplash of pleasure and pain making her moan. His hand then travelled to her legs, pulling them apart slightly by hooking his hand under her knee, before it trailed up her thigh, and then stopped.

He lifted his head from the crook of her neck, his expression hooded with lust. At him pulling back she became nervous momentarily and searched for any sign of hesitation or regret in him, but was relieved when she found none. All he said was, “Do you want me to stop?” The feeling of his thumb brushing up against her clothed core as his hand grabbed the flesh of her inner thigh, was so tantalising, so inviting, that she could barely get words out, instead just quickly shaking her head. That was all the confirmation he needed, as he caught her breath in his mouth once again closing the very little gap between them.

He had settled in between her thighs, and Y/N couldn’t help but buck her hips against his, with a desperate need to have him pressing against her. Aegon seemingly shared that need as he rubbed against her by pulled her parted thighs closer to his body which made her denim skirt ride up even higher, his lips never leaving hers to so much as breathe.

He shifted his hand to fully place it between her legs and the sudden manner in which he moved her panties aside, letting the air hit her exposed pussy made Y/N gasp into the kiss. Aegon’s finger were quickly rubbing at her button, making her yelp and break the kiss. “Aegon…” she threw her head back against the tilled wall of the bathroom at the feeling of him pressing down against her sensitive spot, his hand moving with vigour and impatience. He then moved his index finger from her clit to push through her folds, his thumb replacing it at the top. His finger curled up inside her in the most delicious way, his thumb never ceasing from massaging her nub. “look at you, dripping with just one finger.” Y/N might have felt more embarrassed by the overenthusiastic response her body had to Aegon, if her mind had the ability to focus on anything other than the feeling in her stomach that just wanted to be pushed further, to reach some conclusion. He seemed dissatisfied with her lack of a response, and pushed another finger in her without warning, making her grab his shoulder and hiss in pleasure.

“Tell me do you like this, like being finger-fucked in the bathroom like a dirty slut?” He cooed in her ear, “yes” she rasped out as her body squirmed from the stimulation. His fingers were working at a rapid speed, pounding into her cunt. Her juices had made the job easier for him, the sick sound of his fingers sliding in and out of her with ease was putting her over the edge. “and how does it feel, to be the dirty little whore getting taken in some fucking party?” Her chest was rising and falling with her quick shallow breaths, to the point that she barely registered his words, but she noticed when he suddenly stopped moving his fingers, holding still inside her. “I asked you how does it feel?” She whined in response, as she opened her eyes to look at him which allowed her to finally see his expression.

She didn’t know what she had expected Aegon to look like, but looking this… delicate, had certainly not been what she would have imagined. He looked almost expectant as if he needed her to tell him how good she felt, how good he was making her feel, how good he was. She reached out and cupped his face, replying with sincerity “Amazing.” The way his face lit up hearing that, she could have watched him forever. His fingers slowly began to start their movement again, “and who’s making you feel this way?” “you, you, you….only you.” She croaked out as she tried to rub herself against his fingers to increase the pace. Her hand reached out covering his hand with her own, trying to push his fingers deeper inside her in desperation which made him grin cockily. “such a needy little slut… all for me.” She could only whimper in response.

It seemed he had gotten his satisfactory answer, because he restarted his previous pace, making her bite down on her lip to silence her moans as she neared her end. “c’mon let me hear your pretty little cries, let me hear you scream” he goaded her as his assault on her folds reached its zenith and she came with a cry of his name.

She felt empty as he pulled his fingers out of her, only to push them against her lips in a silent command, which she readily obeyed. She parted her lips and licked his fingers clean, as he watched with bated breath, “such a good girl” he murmured.

As she finished she noticed the bulge he was now supporting, aroused from all the activity. “my turn” she panted. With unsteady hands she felt his length over the jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing them down with his underwear to reveal just how ready he was for her, precum leaking off his tip. Her eyes looked up at him for silent approval, as she wrapped her small hand around him. He merely reached out and placed one of her out-of-place hair strands behind her ear, looking on not only in anticipation but also in simple adoration of her. It made her heart beat faster, if that was even possible, as she started to tug at his length.

She felt nervous as she started, but the constant string of praise Aegon was whispering in her ear kept her going. She loved the reaction she could elicit from him, it gave her a high not unlike the one she got when he was pumping his fingers in and out of her. She watched as his face twisted in pleasure, as he had to place a hand on the wall behind her to keep himself upright, as he bit down on his lip with a soft sigh of “fuck.” She’d known him forever and yet, she couldn’t recall a moment that he looked more beautiful than he did in that moment – standing between her legs, her hand reached out to the space between them, squeezing his hard shaft. As he realised he was near completion, he harshly grabbed a hold of her waist and pressed her back to him in a rough kiss, making him come right there on her inner thigh.

He rested his forehead against hers, as they simply stilled for a moment. She could hear the music floating from the party raging outside the bathroom, which almost brought her back to reality. She wanted to say so many things to Aegon, wanted to discuss what this even meant, but she felt this dream was far too beautiful to be so rudely awoken from just yet. From the lack of words from Aegon, she guessed they were on the same page about this.

She glanced down as she felt him harden already against her soft thigh, and glanced back up at him. His expression remained glazed over, as he hummed in content against her skin. “you have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now,” her mouth went dry at his admission. “what’s stopping you?” She boldly replied, a determination in her eyes.

“yeah?” A smile broke across his lips at her encouragement, “you want this?” “I want you.” She confirmed as she reached out and kissed him. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, his hand grabbing her breast through her shirt as he did. He then abruptly turned her around by the waist so she was facing the wall, taking her hands and placing them on either side of her for balance. She could feel him lift up her skirt and slowly drag her panties down her legs, till they were off of her, seeing him place them in his jeans’ back pocket out of the corner of her eye.

He lined up against her and she was waiting in anticipation for when he would fill her, when a knock on the door interrupted the moment suddenly. “Aegon?” In carried the voice of a girl attempting to shout through the door, “Walder said he saw you go in here. How long are you going to be, babe?”

Aegon cursed under his breath, rolling his eyes at the interruption and turning toward the door. “Be there in a minute!”

Without missing a beat, he turned back to her, trying to resume where they left off, hands slipping around her waist. “Looks like it’ll have to be a quickie.”

But the tension between them was starting to dissipate, replaced by a sinking feeling in Y/N’s chest. “‘Babe’?” She echoed softly, the realisation hitting her as she slowly asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?” Aegon rubbed his eyes as if the question was an irritating inconvenience. “Define girlfriend.”

“Oh my gods.” Reality came crashing down on her, as she turned around and shoved past him to put distance between them. She grabbed some tissues and started to clean up the mix of his and her own fluids running down her thighs, angry beyond belief and hurt beyond repair. She pulled her skirt down, and got ready to leave.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Aegon asked, bewildered, trying to reach for her again, but she stepped back, avoiding his touch. “just stay the fuck away from me!” She shouted at him. His expression looked confused, which made her even more angry. How could he possibly not get what a big fuck up this was on his part?

Y/N’s voice trembled, but the words spilt out like a dam breaking. “All this time we’ve been friends, I used to be so arrogant about how close we are. How I wasn’t like all the others. That I wasn’t just ‘one of your girls.’” Her chest heaved as she fought to keep her voice steady. “But you’ve proven me wrong, Aegon. You’ve proven that all you’ve ever thought of me is as just one more pretty thing to fuck.”

Aegon blinked, clearly taken aback, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air between them. “Y/N, wait—”

But she was already turning away, her throat tight with unshed tears. The bathroom felt suffocating, the walls closing in on her, and she needed to escape, to get away from the mess she’d walked into.

She pushed the door open, the pounding bass of the party hitting her like a wave as she slipped out into the crowd. She ran to the room where she remembered Aegon throwing her things and grabbed her bag as she made her exit from the frat house.

Outside, the cool night air slapped her in the face, and the cold made her glad to have another sensation to focus on that wasn’t the hurt inside her chest. She stumbled down the steps, her vision blurred, as she started almost jogging on the pathway leading her away. She just wanted to put this place behind her, wanted to get as far away from Aegon as her feet could take her. Lost in her own thoughts she barely noticed the familiar voice calling out to her from a car that had stopped next to her on the road.

She turned around to see a boy with his overgrown curly hair at the wheel, the window of his car pulled down as he looked on with concern. She hadn’t seen him in a year or so but his identity was unmistakable to her, “Jace?” She vaguely remembers Aegon telling her with much annoyance that his nephew had joined him at Oldtown this term.

“You alright?” He looked at her with sympathetic eyes and she had the distinct feeling that he knew the reason for her distress had to be his uncle. Y/N wiped hastily at her eyes, trying to pull herself together. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied, her voice barely a whisper. “just need to find a place to stay for tonight.”

“Hop in, let me give you a lift to a decent inn.” He kindly offered, a small, inviting smile on his face. She hesitated, her pride warring with the crushing need for comfort. She looked around and realised she didn’t have many options anyway. With a quiet nod, she accepted Jace’s offer and got in.

The car door clicked shut behind her as she sank into the seat “Thank you,” she softly muttered. He simply shrugged, “It’s no big deal. There’s this amazing place called the Tower Inn, just around the corner. It’s usually got room this time of year.” She couldn’t help but chuckle humourlessly at the mention of the place she had originally planned to be at, if all had gone to plan “Sounds good.”

[strnilolover]

.✦ ── What You Need ── ✦.

♫ What You Need • The Weeknd

♡ toxic&mean!chris x fem!reader

⚠︎ Warnings : Cheating (don’t do that), smut, unprotected pnv (riding!), praising, degrading, faux sympathy, manipulation, big dick!chris, dacryphilia, after care!, and more.

♡ Wc : 3.5k

♡ A/N : i have never written something for toxic and mean chris so if this is ass, i apologize. This shit is also long as fuck so enjoy.

The party was in full swing, music pumping through the walls, reverberating against your skin as you leaned against the kitchen counter. The glass in your hand had gone warm from your grip, your half-hearted sips more out of habit than interest.

Parties weren’t normally your thing. They were too loud, too many sweaty bodies — and you didn’t really enjoy drinking much like other people did. But, your mind wasn’t focused on the party, you were focused on him.

You could see him across the room, the way he laughed, his eyes catching on you for just a second before he looked away, as if he knew exactly how to make you burn without even trying.

Sure you shouldn’t be looking at him — that would be wrong, so wrong on many levels. But you couldn’t help the way your body felt when ever his eyes landed on you if you were staring for too long.

Chris knew you too well — knew what made you tick, what made you question yourself. It was like he could read your mind from across the room, and the way he looked at you, even in fleeting glances, told you he was going to pull you in again, whether you wanted it or not.

You and chris were fuck buddies at one point, but you guys never had sex — or it didn’t get to that point. But, his fingers and mouth were amazing — so fucking good. Though, things didn’t last between the two of you. You eventually found a guy and chris…well you didn’t know. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him, cause you damn well did even if you didn’t want to admit it out loud.

The guy you were seeing, the one you kept telling yourself was good for you, wasn’t here tonight. Maybe that was part of the reason why you had let your eyes linger on Chris a little too long, why you felt that pull to be closer to him, even when every rational part of your brain screamed at you to stay away.

Then, Chris moved through the crowd, his eyes locking on yours, the smirk on his lips growing with each step he took closer to you. He was magnetic, commanding the space around him in a way that was both intimidating and alluring.

"You look bored," he said once he was close enough for you to hear, his voice cutting through the sound of the music, his smirk widening when you didn’t respond right away. "You waiting for him?"

You frowned, trying to ignore the heat that rose to your cheeks. "What do you want, Chris?"

He moved closer, leaning in, his lips just a breath away from your ear. "I want you to stop pretending, to stop avoiding,” he murmured, his voice low, dark, the kind of voice that could slip into your thoughts and make itself at home. "We both know he can’t give you what you need."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, because he wasn’t wrong, and he knew it. He knew that the guy you’d been seeing, the one who treated you with care and kindness, wasn’t enough — not for the part of you that craved something deeper, something more intense.

Chris leaned back, his eyes searching yours, and you hated that you couldn’t look away, that you couldn’t hide the truth from him.

"You’re wasting your time with him," he said, his hand moving to your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin, a possessive touch that sent a shiver through you. "You need someone who knows you. Who knows how to make you feel alive."

He was right there, inches away, and you could smell his cologne, feel the warmth of his body. He reached up, brushing his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle despite the dark look in his eyes.

"Let me show you what you need," he whispered, his lips brushing against your cheek, trailing down to your neck, his breath hot on your skin. You closed your eyes, your heart pounding, and you hated yourself for how easily he could make you forget everything else.

"Chris..." you started, but your voice came out as little more than a whisper, barely audible over the thumping bass of the music.

He pulled back, just enough to look at you, his lips curling into that same infuriating smirk. "Tell me you don’t want this," he said, his voice dripping with that arrogance that somehow made him even more intoxicating. "Tell me you don’t need me."

But you couldn’t. You were tired of lying, tired of pretending that you didn’t think about him when you were with someone else, tired of pretending that he wasn’t the one you really wanted. You reached for him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, and he chuckled, the sound low and pleased.

"That’s what I thought," he said, his voice barely a murmur before he grabbed your hand. He tugged you to the flight of stairs leading down to his room — did you mention this was his party? You should’ve known better.

His movements were urgent and rough, pulling you through his bedroom door before he closed it and turned the lock. He turned himself around, stalking toward you as his hand gripped your jaw. He crushed his lips against yours. It was rough, demanding, a kiss that made your head spin, and you kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

His feet shuffled, pushing your body backwards until your knees hit the bed. Buckling, you fell back, Chris’ body landing on top of your own.

You gasped as his lips moved down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, biting down just enough to make you squirm, your fingers tightening in his hair. He pulled back for just a second, his eyes locking onto yours, filled with something dark, something possessive.

"You think he can make you feel like this?" he asked, his voice a growl as he leaned back, his hands moving to your thighs, spreading them apart as he fit his body between them. "You think he even knows what you really need?"

You shook your head, unable to form words, your body already arching towards him, craving his touch. He grinned, a triumphant glint in his eyes as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

"That’s right," he whispered, his voice a promise, a dark promise that sent a shiver through you. "I know what you need. I know how to make you feel good."

He kissed you again, his hands moving over your body, rough and demanding, and you knew there was no going back. His touch was fire, scorching every inch of your skin, and you let yourself get lost in it, lost in him. You could feel the tension building, the way his fingers worked magic against your skin, and you moaned, the sound swallowed by his mouth.

"s’ what you wanted hm?" he said, his voice low. You stayed silent, pants leaving your lips, desperate, and it only seemed to make him hungrier, his touch growing more insistent.

"You need this, don’t you?" he repeated, the words gritted past his teeth, his eyes searching yours, and you nodded, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts.

"Yes," you whispered, your hands gripping his shoulders, your body arching into him. "I need you, Chris."

His smile was almost predatory as he kissed you again, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your dress, his fingers grazing your skin, making you gasp. He pulled back once more, your mouth chasing his own.

"That’s it," he murmured. "You’re mine tonight. No one else matters."

You nodded, desperate as his hands moved higher, tugging your dress along with them. “Up.” He mumbled, and you obliged, sitting up quickly so he could discard your dress from over your head, slipping it off with ease.

Once your dress was off, you leaned back down. Your hair flowing over the pillows on his bed. His eyes were hungry, drinking in the sight of your body decorated in the lace set your were wearing.

“Fuck,” he muttered, hands wandering up to squeeze your bare sides. “You wore this — almost like you were waiting for me, hm?” He chuckled.

A shaky breath escaped your lips, and all you could do was nod. He smirked, humming as his hands wandered higher, skimming under your tits, reaching to the back of you to unclasp your bra with one hand.

Your back arched, pushing yourself against him as he slid your bra off. The cool air making your nipples harden, sending goose bumps across your exposed skin. He threw the item somewhere behind him, joining your discarded dress.

Chris’ head bent down, taking one of the hardened nubs into his mouth, the warmth of his tongue making you sigh. He smirked against your skin, sucking harshly, a moan being ripped from your throat at the sudden action.

Your hands gripped his hair, tugging the strands as your eyes fluttered closed, welcoming the pleasure coursing through your veins. When Chris saw your eyes close, he pulled away, hand gripping your face, causing your eyes to snap back open. He just tilted his head, a grin plastered on his face.

“I want you to look at me while I pleasure you, yeah? Think you can do that f’me?” He spat out, your head nodding vigorously at his words. He hummed, sitting back from you, moving his body up the bed to rest against the headboard.

Your eyes followed him, head twisting to watch where he was going. Once he was situated against the headboard, his hands gripped the waist band of his pants and boxers. Lifting his hips up as he shuffled them down to his mid thighs, your eyes locked onto his cock. He was huge — bigger than your boyfriend.

Chris’ gaze flicked to your face, watching the way your eyes practically fucked him, widening as you stared at his length. He suddenly spoke, the sound snapping you out of your trance, wide eyes looking into his blue ones. His finger beckoned you. “Come sit.” Was all he said before your body was scrambling, moving to hover directly over his hard dick.

You were eager, your boyfriend being a distant memory in the back of your mind, all your senses being invaded by Chris. Your eyes watched as he held his hand up to your mouth. “Spit.” he said, tone a little harsh. You obliged, mouth hovering over his hand as you let spit dribble past your lips into his palm.

“Good girl.” he groaned, retracting his hand to bring it down to his aching cock. Wrapping his fist around it, he gave a few tugs, hissing at the friction. After a few more tugs, he moved both of his hands to grip your waist, moving you to hover more directly over his length.

Your eyes widened, hands pushing against his chest. “W-wait chris, you — you’re not — that’s not gonna fit in me.” you gasped out, trying to wiggling out of his grasp slightly.

He just chuckled, gripping your hips tighter as he moved you back. “Don’t worry sweetheart — i’ll make it fit. You’ll be okay.” he cooed, a hand leaving your hip to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

You took a deep breath, nodding your head slowly as you let him guide your hips more. His fingers pulled your panties to the side, slowly he tugged you down, the tip of his cock pushing past your folds as your hands gripped his shoulders. You gasped as the tip pushed into you — eyes squeezing shut at the slight burn. “Shhh, i’ve got ya.” he whispered.

You too a deep breath, hips moving down more on his length. A hiss escaped your lips, he was only in a little bit but it felt like he was splitting you open. A returning groan slipped past his own. “Fuck ma — y’squeezing me so fucking tight…shit.”

You whined, your nails digging into his skin. He pushed your hips down more on his length, his head tipping back against the headboard. “Almost there baby — fuck.” he said through gritted teeth. You nodded, watching his face contort in pleasure.

Soon enough, he bottomed out. You felt so full. His head tipped back forward, looking down at where you were connected and he could see the bulge in your stomach — making him groan.

Your eyes bore into his, he was still — not moving at all. You realized he was waiting until you gave the go ahead, who knew he wasn’t such an ass after all. Slowly, you nodded your head, and he smirked.

His hands lifted you up, sliding out almost fully before he slammed you back down onto his cock. You let out a screech, eyes rolling back as he set a fast pace. “Ah — c-chris!” you squeaked, nails gripping harder, sure to leave a mark.

It felt so good — the burning turning into pleasure that coursed through your body. Your head tipped forward, resting in the crook of his neck. Little gasps and whines escaped your lips.

Chris shifted, his feet planted on the mattress as he bullied his cock deeper into you — if that was even possible. The angle made you moan, the pleasure overwhelmingly good. “Chris…ah — fuck s’too m-much!” you cried out, tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

Chris chuckled, keeping the rhythm going, his hips slamming up into yours. The sight of your glassy eyes spurred him on. “Oh, poor thing, is this too much for you? Thought you could handle it?” he moaned, head tucking into your neck as he nipped at the skin, sure to leave little purple bruises.

Your walls fluttered around him at his words, his teeth gritting together. The tears spilled down your face now — not from pain, but from pleasure. Chris brought his head back up, gripping yorker hips tighter as your started to fuck yourself on his cock now.

“Fuck look at you — such a cock slut hm? taking me so fucking well ma.” Your hips moved faster, the sounds of skin slapping against one another and the wet squelching of your pussy was the only thing that could be heard. The blaring party from upstairs couldn’t even be heard through the both of you.

“s’big — so fucking big oh god.” you moaned out, the words tampering off into a high pitched whine at the end. Your hips shifted, bouncing up and down on his cock as a particular thrust of his hips hit that spongy spot inside of you, causing your body to tremble as a mewl slipped past your lips.

Chris leaned forward, taking one of your pink nipples into his mouth, sucking and nipping on the bud. His groans reverberated through your body, making you shiver. “What would he think if he knew where you were right now? being such a fucking whore for me.” he mumbled around your hardened bud, biting down harshly. You threw your head back again, crying out at the pain.

“What if i told him hm? show him how much you love bouncing on my cock.” he muttered, letting go of your nipple as his tongue trailed up to your collarbone. You didn’t answer, only a whine slipping out as your ground your hips down more, your clit rubbing against him.

Chris didn’t like that, his teeth biting your collarbone harshly. You squeaked, “N-no! don’t — don’t tell him.” you choked out, the tears cascading down your face more. He hummed, his hips still slamming up into you. “No? y’sure baby — fuck — i think you’d like that wouldn’t you?” you shook your head, trying your hardest to deny, but the way your walls squeezed around him at the thought told chris other wise.

One of his hands left your hip, sliding up your back to tangle into the back of your hair, tugging your head back sharply. The action made you whimper, closing your eyes as your legs started to burn, but you pushed through — bouncing harder on his cock.

He grinned, the hand helping move your hips left. “Keep moving yourself baby — make yourself feel good. Take what’s yours.” he whispered. You nodded, moving more as you felt a knot form in your stomach. The hand in your hair never left.

Chris reached over, grabbing his phone from the nightstand and opening his camera, pushing on the video button. He hit record, holding the phone to point down where his cock could be seeing in your guts, your tummy bulging.

Your legs burned, the feeling of them wanting to collapse was strong, but the need to get off was stronger. “Taking me so fucking good ma — tell me how good i’m making you feel.” he said, punctuating his words with some sharp thrusts. His hand tugged your hair harder, “S-so good! fuck me so good!” you cried out once more.

His phone panned to your face, capturing how it contorted and scrunched up in pleasure before panning back down. The knot forming in your stomach tightened, pricking up your spine, heat swirling in your stomach. “Gonna cum — c-chris m’gonna cum.” you breathed out, grinding down harder.

He moaned, the hand in your hair letting go as he brought it around to your front. His thumb connected to your clit, rubbing tight circles and made your body jolt. “Yeah? y’gonna make a mess all over my cock? go ahead, cum for me baby.”

That was all you needed to hear, your body moving faster as you chased that release you so desperately needed. Chris kept the phone pointed at you — your knowledge of it non existent. Little babbles left your lips, your walls squeezing him tightly as the knot snapped.

“c-cumming!” you moaned, body tightening as you released all over his cock. Your juices slipping down his length. Your movements slowed, but chris wasn’t done.

He quickly tipped your body back — your back making contact with the mattress as his one hand gripped your his bruisingly. His cock plowed into you at a mad pace, the phone still in his other hand. He aimed it up, capturing your whole body in the frame. You choked out a whimper, hands pushing up at his stomach.

“C-chris!” you cried. He hissed, his own release creeping up his spine as your walls clenching him hard. “Fucking take it — take it, take it.” He growled. He was so close, you could feel his cock twitching inside of you.

“Gonna fill you up baby — make you feel me for fucking days.” he said, and you nodded, hands now gripping his bicep as you teetered on the edge of overstimulation. “Give it t’me.” you whispered, hooking your legs around his waist, pushing him deeper into you.

“Ah — fuck, fuck, fuck.” he chanted, burying himself deep in you as he released inside your walls. The warm feeling of him spilling into you cause you to whine, eyes rolling back again as you babbled.

Stilling his movements, he stopped the video, quickly opening his messages and sending it to your boyfriend — how did he have it? you don’t know.

He tossed his phone aside, slowly pulling out of your fluttering walls. His gaze traveled down, watching as his cum spilled out of you. He hummed, pleased with himself. You could feel his eyes on you, causing your hands to instinctively cover yourself up. He tsked, taking your arms away from yourself.

“Don’t hide yourself ma, y’so beautiful.” He muttered. You cheeks flushed, his voice so calm and soothing compared to earlier. He smacked your thigh a few times, the weight shifting on the bed as he got up and walked to his conjoined bathroom.

Coming out a few minutes later, your head tipped to look at him. He was cleaned up, in a pair of sweatpants, carrying a wet warm washcloth over to you. “Open your legs baby.” he said, gently tugging your thighs apart. You obliged, the warm feeling of the washcloth soothing your body.

When he moved over your pussy, you flinched slightly, still sensitive. He cooed, apologizing quickly before he continued to clean you. Once he was done, he helped you sit up, walking over to his dresser he pulled out a pair of his boxers and a fresh love hoodie.

He helped you get dressed, taking your ruined panties off and replacing them with his boxers as he slid the hoodie over your head. Once he was done, he helped get you situated under his covers, offering you water.

He climbed in next to you, your mind already slipping into unconsciousness as you felt yourself grow exhausted. He pulled you into him, your head resting on his chest as he pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

You hummed contently, snuggling into his chest as you doze off into a peaceful sleep. Your soft snores echoing through the room. After while chris got up to make his way upstairs to end the party. But as he got up, his phone buzzed.

He checked it quickly, smirking to himself when he saw the message.

Your Boyfriend : What. The. Fuck.

[savventeen]

svt as bits of unfinished poetry that have been rotting away in my google drive

**content warnings: mentions of blood, violence as a metaphor** (also each indented section is one snippet)

seungcheol

pruning is a dirty business bloodied earth the product of your work soiled hands the only thing you feel good for you need to pull the roots up bloody because that’s the only way they’ll let you go

bear your throne like the cross that it is and do not weep

jeonghan

i cut my lip on your silver tongue we try our best to kiss away the blood

traded feathered wings for fleeting moments of perceived significance and my ignorance will always be my downfall my aches and pains will always be my own fault because the world has taught me to give away everything but the blame

joshua

i wish that i could make my words pretty for you, for you i wish that i could make them gently bloom, for you

and when i do finally pass the horizon i want to be remembered into the twilight, the light of my life shining on until i finally reach the zenith of the stars and embrace the galaxies like we’d never parted

junhui

my nerves don’t live in my stomach no, the butterflies live in the joints of my fingers, in the muscles of my legs and the smooth corners of my lungs they take residence in the crevices of my heart, unwanted cheerleaders encouraging my heart to beat faster, faster, faster

soonyoung

yes, we are a mess in the making but oh, what a beautiful mess we’re making this moment is ours for the taking, ours for the breaking

and i will cling to hope with dirty claws and bloodstained teeth aching arms and ravaged feet the world may try to rip it from my hands but the world never expected me to rip back

wonwoo

sometimes i feel like the ocean tide i crash on your shores with a violent hello and then pull away, pull away, pull away

it would be enough, if i could incite the start of a grin, the kind that curls up at the corners and isn't for anyone else except yourself

jihoon

sometimes i feel like my bones will break before my fingertips even make it to the page, my soul in such a fragile state the mere thought of revealing any honest piece of myself a crippling catharsis

seokmin

you instill hope like a roundhouse kick blindsiding everyone you meet with a love that’ll bruise for weeks you plow through each and every day like you’re on a mission a vengeful vigilante who deals blows in the art of affection you’re scrappy — all feeling, no form with fists raised and ready

mingyu

someday there will be a ring on my finger that i will not have put there myself i don’t think it will be flashy except for the way it will stoke the fire in my chest the metal will be warm, perpetually heated by the beating of my heart and it will stand sentinel, a promise of beginning, middle, and end

minghao

my name, an ephemeral thing that does not belong to me but to those who have chosen to call upon me, acknowledge me and my existence in time and space, a dimension in my own right, constellations in my heart and on my skin, searching every day for ways to begin a conversation, any conversation, an elation of heart and mind an elevation of souls in kind

seungkwan

you let them close enough to see the cracks, sometimes but only the ones that seem pretty enough in the filtered light — the ones you’ve framed to be beautiful things with glittering onyx veins that sparkle in their calcification

vernon

the moon is a smudge behind a frosted layer of clouds, the cold sharp and piercing, like inhaling frozen glass

you told me "darling, you are the sun." and oh, how i wanted to run to you or away, i’m never sure

dino

sometimes a shattering is a quiet thing. i’ve yet to learn how to break in a place where people can hear me, preferring to keep my clattering pieces tucked into quiet corners and early morning hours — the kind of morning when getting to see the sleepy pre-dawn gray feels like a miracle and not a burden

[fxrmuladaydreams]

back off (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x porstar/camgirl!reader

summary: seb isn’t happy when he finds out that you’ve become intimate with daniel, and daniel isn’t happy when he finds out seb isn’t going to give you up

prev part next part

Sebastian feels like he’s been staring at the screen of his phone for days now.

I’ve been spending so much time with Daniel lately

He’s reading the words over and over again, as if they’ll change at some point. When he gave you Daniel’s phone number he really only expected you to film a video or two with him, not to become close with him.

Sebastian figured you clearly weren’t in the mood to talk to him either, seeing as his last few texts went unanswered, so he decided he needed to take matters into his own hands.

You’re surprised to see Sebastian standing on the other side of your door when you answer it, a nervous smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hands.

“Sebastian, what are you doing here?” You ask.

“You weren’t answering your phone.” He shrugs. “These are for you.” He thrusts the flowers into your hands.

“Thank you… Come in.” You step to the side so he can come inside.

He takes slow, cautious steps in, as if afraid he’ll overstep.

“You know, usually if someone doesn’t respond to texts it means they don’t want to talk.” You tell him as you find a vase for the flowers.

He feels bad being here, but tries to keep his cool. “You don’t want to see me schatz?” He pouts.

You sigh. “I thought you were the one who didn’t want to see me.”

Your words feel like a punch to the gut. “I always want to see you.” He says quietly.

“Then why did you push me away?”

He stares at you, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“I can’t put up with you like this Seb. You can either stay here and be honest with me, or you can keep this wall between us and leave my house.” You cross your arms over your chest.

His lips move for a moment, he’s trying to think of the right way to string his words together.

“I was nervous. I felt like things were too much, moving too fast.” He takes a step towards you. “But I’ve sorted myself out now. I want to be close with you.” He practically whispers.

You take a small step back, keeping that small bit of distance between you. You’re too afraid you’ll quickly fall under his spell again if you don’t.

“We can become close again. As friends.” You tell him.

He gives you a small nod. “Friends. Can friends offer to buy you lunch?” He asks, a sheepish smile on his face.

You can’t help the smile that starts to appear on yours. “Friends can get lunch together, yes.”

“Good. Lunch it is then.”

He takes you to lunch in his car, letting you pick the music. It’s very reminiscent of your drive to the filming studio. He keeps stealing glances and you keep pretending not to notice.

Everything seems effortlessly easy with Sebastian. You quickly fall into rhythm with each other, a slightly flirty banter used to communicate with each other.

He pays for your meal, even after your insistence that he doesn’t have to.

“I’m just being a good friend schatz.” His tone is teasing, but he doesn’t like the way the words feel on his tongue.

He wants to be able to sweep you up in his arms and plant a kiss to your lips, but he remembers what you said about kissing. How it was something personal, that it belonged to you. He was just going to have to fight to earn it from you.

He drives you back to your house and joins you inside for a movie. While you start on opposite ends of the couch, by the time the movies over you find yourself curled up against the German man.

He almost wants the movie to never end. He wants to stay here with you in his arms forever. We wouldn’t be mad if you happened to fall asleep against him.

But when the credits roll you sit up, peeling yourself away from Sebastian, who tries to fill the space between you.

“I had fun today.” He tells you.

You nod, giving him a soft smile. “Me too. It was nice to see you again.”

“Maybe we can hang out again. Sometime soon?” He asks.

He’s close now, probably too close. You can feel his breath fan over your face as his words are murmured to you. His eyes travel down to your lips. You know what he wants, and even if you didn’t he tells you when he tilts his head closer to you.

“I kissed Daniel.”

He freezes at your words, slowly pulling back. A flash of anger crosses his face.

“Did he make you?”

“No! No, I kissed him willingly.”

“Oh.” He leans back on the couch.

“I’m sorry. I just thought you should know.” You head tilts down in shame.

He hums. “So are you dating him?”

You look back up at him. “No, I don’t think so.”

Sebastian smiles mischievously. “Then he has no claim over you. You can kiss whoever you’d like.” He brushes the hair away from your face and leans in again. If he pressed his lips to yours you wouldn’t have pushed him away, but he doesn’t. “I’m not going to kiss you schatz. I don’t want to confuse you, or make you feel bad about your feelings for either of us. But I won’t give up on you that easy. I’ve still got some fight in me.” He winks, then pulls away to stand up.

You almost reach out for his hand, wanting to pull him back down and kiss him yourself, but he steps away, towards your door.

“Goodnight schatz.” He calls out to you, then you hear your door open then close.

You feel fuzzy on the inside, like you’re on a bit of a high as you get ready to go to sleep.

Daniel comes by the next day, immediately pulling you into his arms and planting a kiss to the top of your head.

“Good morning sweetheart.” He says. “I brought breakfast.”

He puts a bag down on your table. You recognize the logo on the bag, it’s from the diner he took you to after you filmed your video. He hums as he admires the flowers on your table, letting his fingers gently brush against the petals.

“Where did you get these?” He asks, thinking you probably bought them yourself just to add to the dining room.

“Seb gave them to me.” You tell him. You try to sound casual about it, as if he didn’t stay late last night and if you had your way you would’ve climbed on top of him.

“Seb?”

“Sebastian.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, I know who Seb is. I just thought you weren’t seeing him anymore.”

You shrug. “It was nothing. We went out to lunch. As friends.”

He nods. “So, got any plans for today?”

You try to have a nice day with Daniel, but it’s clear something has shifted. He holds onto you just a little tighter, and makes sure to sit next to you a little closer.

When he drops you back off at your house he leans in for a kiss. You turn your head, letting his lips land on your cheek.

“Goodnight Daniel.” You quickly tell him, stepping into your house and closing the door between you.

Daniel lets his anger bubble up on his drive home. Why were you with Sebastian the previous night? Who the hell did Sebastian think he was to give you flowers? Why didn’t you let him kiss you tonight? His hands grip the steering wheel as he drives.

He walks back into his house and sighs as he hangs up his coat. The house seems far too empty, too cold when he’s home alone.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket as he walks to his room.

To Sebastian

I don’t know what your deal is, but you need to back off. Y/n and I are happy and you’re just going to ruin it.

He gets a reply within minutes.

To Daniel

I think Y/n can choose to spend her time with whoever she wants. And I’m not planning on letting her go that easy Danny. Let the best man win.

Daniel huffs as he tosses his phone aside. He’s going to show you just how much better he is for you than Sebastian.

[violettwrites]

in the arms of the broken — daryl dixon

a/n: to the dear nonnie that requested this 🫶🏻 thank u sm i absolutely adored writing this (i rly should be sleeping but i can’t so here i am) i hope you enjoy !!

if you enjoyed reading this, please support me by giving me a like, reblog, and/or comment ! don’t forget to follow me either if you want to read more of my stuff !

request: anon said — “i also like the dialogue prompt ‘i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this’ that tugs at the heart strings”

summary: reader cannot cope with the way the world has become, during a particularly hard night for themselves, daryl dixon is the one to comfort them.

warnings: angst/sadness ,,, thats it rly

word count: 1,241

recourses: divider by @adornedwithlight

➵ tp!daryl masterlist

➵ regular masterlist

here is my ask box !

the night was quiet except for the crackle of the fire, but it felt wrong—like the world had gone still, holding its breath. you sat by the flames, knees drawn to your chest, staring blankly into the flickering light. the heat touched your skin, but it didn’t reach you, didn’t chase away the cold that had settled deep inside.

daryl watched you from a distance, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. he’d been keeping an eye on you for days, noticing the way you’d been pulling away from everyone, isolating yourself. you’d always been strong, always held it together for the sake of the group, but something was different now. something had changed, and it scared him. you were like a shadow of yourself, your spirit drained, your eyes distant.

rick approached him, eyes flicking over to you before meeting daryl’s. “how’s she holdin’ up?”

daryl didn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening as he watched the way you sat so still, your body hunched like the weight of everything had finally become too much to carry. he shook his head, his voice quiet and rough. “i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this.”

rick nodded, his expression grim. “she’s been through a lot. more than most of us. maybe she just needs some time.”

rick can recall the first time they found you, smack bang in the middle of atlanta, all alone. you were covered in blood and guts, and if he hadn’t actually heard how you begged for help when he saw you, your voice barely audible, he honestly would have thought you were just another walker.

“time ain’t gonna fix what’s broken,” daryl muttered under his breath, the frustration simmering beneath his skin. time wasn’t enough when you were drowning, when you couldn’t see a way out of the darkness. and he hated that he didn’t know how to pull you out.

rick gave him a look, one that said everything he didn’t need to say out loud. “you’re the one she’ll listen to, daryl. talk to her.”

daryl stood there a moment longer, watching the way you curled into yourself, like you were trying to disappear. every instinct in him told him to go to you, but he hesitated, unsure if his words would even matter. still, he couldn’t just leave you like this.

he finally pushed off the tree and walked over, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. he lowered himself to the ground beside you, sitting close enough that you could feel his presence, but not so close that he’d crowd you.

for a while, neither of you said anything. the fire crackled between you, the only sound breaking the silence of the night. daryl wasn’t sure how to start, wasn’t good with words even on the best of days. but he knew you, and he knew the way you got when things started to spiral out of control in your head.

“you don’t gotta shut us out, y’know,” he finally said, his voice gruff but soft. “we’re all here for ya.”

you didn’t respond at first, your eyes still fixed on the flames like they held some kind of answer you were searching for. after a long moment, you sighed, your voice barely a whisper. “i’m tired, daryl.”

those words hit him like a punch to the gut. he’d seen people break before, seen the way this world could wear someone down until there was nothing left. but hearing you say it, seeing you like this—it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

“i know,” he said quietly. “we all are. but we’re still fightin’. you’re still fightin’.”

you shook your head, your voice trembling as you spoke. “i don’t know if i can anymore. every day feels like it’s getting harder. like… like i’m losing pieces of myself.”

daryl’s chest tightened. he’d always admired your strength, the way you kept going no matter how hard things got. but now, hearing you say you were falling apart—it made him realize just how much he hadn’t noticed.

“you ain’t losin’ yourself,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you’re still here. we’re still here.”

you swallowed hard, tears brimming in your eyes. “i feel like i’m drowning. like no matter what i do, it’s never enough. i can’t save everyone, daryl.”

that was it, wasn’t it? the burden you carried, the weight of trying to protect everyone, to hold the group together when everything was falling apart. it was breaking you.

daryl shifted closer, his hand reaching out to rest on your arm, hesitant at first, but firm once it was there. “you don’t gotta save everyone. that ain’t on you.”

your voice cracked as you spoke, the tears spilling over now. “but if i don’t… who will?”

daryl’s heart clenched at the raw pain in your voice. he wished he had the right words, wished he could take that weight off your shoulders. but he knew he couldn’t fix everything. what he could do, though, was remind you that you weren’t alone.

“you don’t have to,” he said, his thumb gently brushing your arm in a way that was more comforting than he realized. “we’re all in this together. you ain’t gotta carry the world by yourself.”

you turned to look at him, and the vulnerability in your eyes nearly broke him. he wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so lost and fragile. he hated it. he hated that you felt like you had to carry the world alone, that you felt like you were drowning.

“i don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “everything feels so heavy.”

daryl swallowed hard, his own heart aching at how much pain you were in. he didn’t know how to take that pain away, but he could be there for you. he could be the one thing you could hold on to when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

“you ain’t alone,” he said, his voice low but steady. “you got me. no matter what, you got me.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time in days, you felt like you could breathe just a little easier. his words were simple, but they grounded you. daryl had always been your anchor, and in this moment, you needed him more than ever.

without thinking, you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his shoulder as the tears came harder, your body shaking with the force of them. daryl didn’t hesitate. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back.

“let it out,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s okay. i got ya.”

and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself fall apart. you let the tears come, let the pain you’d been holding in for so long spill out. daryl didn’t say anything more, didn’t need to. he just held you, his presence steady and unwavering, letting you know without words that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone.

the fire crackled softly beside you, but the world felt a little less cold with daryl holding you. you weren’t okay. you weren’t sure when—or if—you’d ever be okay again. but for now, in his arms, you felt like you didn’t have to be.

and maybe that was enough.

[xanwyn]

animation for THE NEON VOIDD BABYYYY

this post is for @sugarpasteltmnt

‼️‼️MEGA YAPPING AHEAD PLEASE BEWARE‼️‼️

this might end up being really long and rambly and sappy but maybe not who knows.( it was) (and also featuring numerous spelling errors i am way too tired to fix and i am not re reading what i just wrote) SO. yknow how when chap idek..25(?) came out and i was all like “yeah so i made this animation for TNV and ill drop it when the fic ends” in your ask box? so. I FINISHED IT RAHHH. technically it has been finished since i sent that ask but ohhh my goodness did it need polishing. i haven’t animated in 4 years before that and omg it felt so good getting back into it but IDFK SOMETHING IS STILL NOT UP TO MY STANDARDS. i feel like i could have done so much more with it and i deffo wanted to but as soon as i told myself “oh yeah this is basically done” art block literally sucker punched me in the gut out of NOWHERE. I COULD NOT PICK UP MY I PAD. I COULD NOT DRAW. I WOULD STARE AT THE WIP ANIMATION AND BE UPSET BC I DDINT WANNA WORK ON IT AHH. that goes with saying. i kept having this thought in the back of my head “you need to finish it. you have a wip sitting. finish it. go do it. what are you doing are you STARTING ANOTHER PROJECT??? anddd yeah i got super distracted with other stuff and other projects and then i started spending my free time rewatching 2012 turtles and omg this summer has been a mess. i have all the free time in the world and i choose to be the least productive as possible with it even though i have a job that lets me literally sit on my phone and do whatever i want if no one is there. (i’ve brought my switch to work numerous times ☠️) what i was trying to get at is the fact that TNV has inspired a lot of the old me to come back and i lowk missed her. i really missed the point in all those words up there but im here now so whatever. BUT. TNV made me make a tumblr account, i got back in to animation AND digital art in general, got back into longfics that are ongoing, AND it also helped kickstart ideas for writing. i’ve got so many stories now!! you are such an inspirational person pastels i just- every time i read a new chapter of yours it made me wanna go get up and do something. i wanted to create something. because at the end of each chapter, i would think- “woah. a person out there just wrote this. they just sat down one day and committed. i wanna do that” so i did that. just huge thank you and shoutout to you pastel. like damn. idk no words from me here. just a bunch of platonic hugs and kisses and thankyouthankyouthsnkuou for this lovely heart wrenching but also sweet story. i love this fandom (tmnt) so SO much and i think it’s so awesome how interactive you are with your own personal NV fans. crazy how we’re all here because of a bunch of turtles. 

STUFF ABOUT THE ANIMATION:

okay i really like to talk and if you let me, i will run my mouth. this is the internet so im gonna do just that. so more words for you to read 😁. AHEM. so like i stated before in the genuinely scary mess of words up there, i haven’t touched animation in a while, like, 4 years a while. yes i’ve done digital art here and there along the years, i haven’t been doing it nearly as much as i need to to use some programs to their full potential. layers are still confusing, and don’t even get me started on multiply and all that jazz. shading never comes out right on digital for me, i gotta work that one out. so, for this animation, i decided to go with a very rough style. nothing needed to be perfect, i just wanted to live my little life of trying to experiment with a bunch of different things all at once in one short animatic. I wanted to do that little ball bounce thing all animation artists start with (i kinda included that with the key). i also wanted to have a go at lip sync (no hate it was my first time) and also timing the animation with the music. i wanted to see how smoothly i could move a figure in and out of and out of the screen as well, which honestly, i think that part might be my favorite. i think i did a good job, and thats what matters. the animation itself lost a bunch of quality on importing it- no clue how it happened but now the ending is grainy af. ignore that pls lol- but it was sitting in my flipaclip for god, i dont even know, 3 months now? i kept going back and forth on if i wanted to share it or not, so im throwing it to the wolves and i guess whatrver happrns happens and im good with that. yay. im actually rrwlly tired now sooo *leaves this absolute pile of words with a video attached at your feet and stumbles away quickly*

also i’ve genuinely never posted anything so i’m learning how to use tumblr too ☠️

[crossfandomslut]

At Peace in your Fire (Pt 4)

part 1 part 2 part 3

Summary: the after math of the meeting in Hewn City

Pairing: Eris x Archeron!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: out of character Feyre (Keeping secrets from Rhys) slight angst, fluff 😊

Notes: Ahhhhhhhh !! Thank you everyone who is reading, liking, commenting, reblogging and asking to be on the taglist I love each and every one of you ! This chapter is a little short, but I really hope you like it ! I wanted to get something out this weekend, and cant wait to work on the next part this week !

Eris’ POV

Eris has experienced a lot of fear in his life. Plenty of terrifying moments to plague his nightmares every century of his life. But this- Y/n falling unconscious before them, crying out in agony before the darkness took her- he thought he had suffered all his worst fears by now. He was so devastatingly wrong.

He moved so fast he didn’t have time to think about what he was doing. He was to her before her head could hit the ground. But before he could pull her into his arms, Cassian grabbed her and Azriel yanked Eris back.

“Don’t you touch her.” Azriel growled.

“You’re lucky I moved as quickly as I did! None of you sprang to action and a head wound is the last thing she needs in this state!” Eris defended.

“Why do you even care?” Mor snapped.

“Okay, that’s enough. We need to get Y/n to Madja. This meeting is over.” Rhys started to walk toward Cassian where he still held Y/n’s unconscious figure.

All Eris could do was stand there dumbly and watch as they all prepared to winnow her away, and he would have no way to know how she was or what was wrong. He hadn’t felt so helpless in so long and it felt like a punch to the gut. Only Nesta threw him a look that he couldn’t quite decipher, but it wasn’t nearly as cold as she had looked at him before.

And then they were gone. And Eris had to sit down, or he may have thrown up. He was shaking with pent up energy and emotions. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her at all during the meeting, not when she has been looking at him with soft eyes that expected a good male to be standing before her. He was not good. He was tortured and twisted and wrong. He knew if he had looked into her eyes he would have fallen apart and gotten to his knees before her to ask for her forgiveness for what had happened with Mor, and even with Lucien. He usually brushed off the comments about those events, any event where his morals are questioned. But with Y/n standing there he felt such a need to defend himself- to explain. But he couldn’t. Not fully. And now Y/n will know he is a monster, and she will never again touch his hands with softness, never again look into his eyes with hopeful caution. Gods. All it took was one damn dance and Eris was a fool for her.

He had to see her again. Had to know if she was okay. For now, though, all he can do is go home to the Autumn Court, and pray his father remained unaware of his absence.

Y/n’s POV

Amber eyes, freckled skin, sharp cheekbones, and the softest red hair. Y/n had been dreaming of this face for weeks, but now, instead of a frozen lake with pain and fear in his eyes, they were on the dancefloor. He still looked at her with fear in those beautiful eyes, but this was a much more vulnerable kind of fear. Not fear of her power, but fear of her looking too closely at him. Fear of being seen. In this dream, he doesn’t turn and run away. In this dream he stays, and they stare into each other’s souls for a long while. Then, she leans into him and rests her head on his chest, and he continues to sway her back and forth until the song comes to an end.

When she looks back up at him, his face is cold. His gaze harsh and unforgiving as he pushes her away. She stumbles, but her family rushes in behind her. Eris, who was soft and warm moments ago, was now distant and cruel as he sneers and looks you up and down before exiting the dancehall.

Y/n jolted awake gasping for air. Feyre was immediately by her side, holding her hand. When Y/n catches her breath, Feyre cups her cheek and wipes away the stray tears that Y/n hadn’t noticed falling. Feyre climbs into the bed next to her. The small bed was set up right next to the fireplace, and Y/n crooned toward the heat and golden glow on her face. It was nighttime, or maybe the early hours of the morning. Feyre laid on the side furthest from the fire, her head propped up on her hand and reached the other out to comb Y/n’s hair with her fingers.

“How are you feeling?” Feyre whispered.

Y/n motioned to her throat in a request for water and Feyre jumped up to get it for her. After a few large, unladylike gulps, she set the glass down on her bedside table. “Thank you. I’m okay. What happened?”

“We were in the meeting with Eris,” Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name and tried to not make it obvious she had just been dreaming about him, “when all of a sudden you cried out in pain and fell unconscious.” Feyre finished.

“My head had been hurting throughout the meeting. I don’t know what was wrong, I’m sorry. That must have been so embarrassing and unprofessional. Is Rhys upset?”

“Rhys? Oh Y/n, of course not! He’s been worried sick about you. Like a mother hen. He’s terrible, honestly,” Feyre chuckled softly. It made Y/n feel more at ease.

“But we didn’t get the information from Eris about the Spring Court. I messed up the whole meeting because of a silly headache- “

“Y/n, stop, it’s really okay. Eris was being an ass anyway and- “ Feyre halted as Y/n groaned and held her head in her hands. “Y/n? Y/n what can I do?” Feyre sat helpless as her twin’s face contorted in pain. Y/n swung her legs over the side of the bed to fully face the fire raging in the hearth and she felt the pressure in her head lighten.

Feyre came to sit beside her again, and when she could think again, Y/n started to remember what happened at the meeting. She remembered being confused the whole meeting. By Eris refusing to look at her, by the history with Mor and with his brother, and the rising tension in the room and the distain that her family held for Eris. She remembered the pain in Eris’ voice that no one else could bother to hear, when he said, “not all of us were as lucky in our friends and family as you, Rhysand.” And that was when the pain in her head escalated to a point that she could not handle. Then she comes to now, when Feyre started to insult him, and the pain came back. The only to help, being the fire… Her twin wasn’t stupid. Y/n knew she had pieced it together too before even looking at her. And it wasn’t her daemati power. Y/n had worked tirelessly on her mental shield.

Y/n slowly turned to lock eyes with Feyre and was met with a knowing but weary gaze. “So… Eris, huh?”

“Ugh, Feyre!” Y/n groaned and threw her pillow at her head. Easily grabbing the pillow, Feyre and Y/n burst out into laughter. They hadn’t laughed like this together in so long. They had been so close until Feyre came to Prythian, and Y/n hadn’t noticed how much she had been missing her sister.

When their breathing slowed and they could once again keep a straight face, Y/n looked back to her sister. “I don’t know. I feel this pull to him, but I also know how much everyone hates him. I mean her tried to take you from us on that damned lake, he apparently has hurt Mor, and I don’t even know what to think about what happened to poor Lucien. And at the same time, I think I see him in a way that not even he can. He is the embodiment of fire, Fey. How could I not be drawn to him like a moth to a flame? I think… I think he might be a good male deep down. But I’m so confused.” Y/n sighed and put her head in her hands again.

Feyre rubbed her sister’s back in an attempt to soothe her. It makes sense, she thinks, for her sister to be intrigued by Eris. But she was in the same boat with their family’s animosity toward the male, it would be difficult to work around centuries of hurt, even if they were misunderstandings. “We’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

When Y/n woke the next morning, it was close to noon and Feyre was gone. Likely off performing her duties as High Lady to get ready for the High Lords meeting, they were planning. As she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, she noticed a quill and parchment sat out on her desk across the room. Having learned how to read and write not long ago, she thought it might be a sign to practice. She had already missed her usual lesson with Rhys or Amren, so this would have to do.

She wrapped the plush green robe tighter around her shivering frame and sat in the large desk chair with her knees to her chest, her head resting atop them. The desk was a beautiful cherry oak wood, stained to deepen the natural red tint of the wood. The complexity of the color and the grain of the wood had Y/n’s mind wandering to a certain male who was just as complex and had hair a similar shade of red. Thinking of the way his hand felt on her waist as they danced, how warm he was, and the moment of vulnerability he showed during the meeting. She felt her heart crack slightly as she recounted the look on his face and the way his voice broke imperceptibly when he said, “not all of us were as lucky in our friends and family as you, Rhysand.”

The memories had her picking up the quill, dipping it into some ink, and pressing to the page.

She folded the parchment into a triangle shape that could be carried by the wind, and with all her power, willed the wind to carry it to the Autumn Court. Hoping and praying to whatever gods may listen, that no one else finds it.

Eris’ POV

The minute he arrived back in the Autumn Court, Eris was so exhausted that he could have wept when he saw his horse standing there waiting for him. The chestnut stallion was a clear mirror of himself. Tall, deceivingly strong with his lean frame, and a coat the color red that could only be found in his home court. A striking white blaze ran down his long face onto his soft muzzle. As Eris approached him, Ignatius lifted his head in greeting and let out a low nicker. Eris approached him with tired eyes and a small, fond smile. “Hello, friend. Let’s go home, shall we?” Stroking his neck in a few long, slow movements, Eris mounted his steed and they started on their way back to the Forest House.

When they made it back to the stable, Eris took Ignatius’ saddle and bridle off, put him in his stall and made sure he had extra gain for the night. Giving his friend a final brushing, Eris bid him goodnight- although it was likely closer to morning by now.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, sleep embraced him in a tight hold and dragged him to a land of dreams. Dreams of Y/n and her shining y/h/c hair, her soft but calloused hands in his, and her stunning y/e/c eyes staring straight into his soul. He could stay in this dream forever he thinks. Hearing her soft voice say far too kind things to him.

Eris finally awoke when a maid opened his door and startled him from sleep. She squealed and jumped when Eris shot up from his bed, and profusely apologized as she scurries away, closing the door behind her. He rubbed his eyes and rolled out of bed, making his way over to his balcony where the first maid must have come in and set out his tea for the morning. The pot was cold by now, but that was no issue for a fire wielder. Quickly, his tea was hot once again as he sat and looked out upon the grounds of his house. House, not home. As he sat and breathed in the early afternoon air, something caught his attention. It looked like a piece of parchment floating on the breeze. It couldn’t be- but it kept getting closer to him and suddenly in was within his reach. He snatched the paper from the sky and looked at it with wide eyes. He could smell her. Y/n’s scent of cashmere and cinnamon, all things warm and comforting. He closed his eyes for a long moment, just breathing her in. when he regained his composure, he sat down and unfolded the letter.

Dear Eris,

I am fine, in case you were wondering. Truthfully… I’ve been wondering about you. Maybe that isn’t appropriate to say, but I’ve already written it and I simply can’t waste good parchment to not say what I mean and what I feel. I’m confused and I want to talk to you. I don’t believe there is ever only one side to a story and I’d very much like to hear yours.

Y/n

Eris choked out a laugh and had to cover his mouth with a hand to keep himself from breaking out into a fit. He knew she was bold, but this was something he could not have anticipated. She was thinking about him. Eris shook his head to clear his thoughts and rushed back inside to his large mahogany desk. The drawers painted the shade of green of the forest after a heavy rain. After he thought through what he wanted to say, he put ink to paper and wrote out his response. He hoped he didn’t seem desperate by responding with such haste, but he too was wondering about her and wanted to know her. So, he held the letter in the palm of his hand and set it alight.

Y/n’s POV

Despite the late start to her day, she tried to regain some sense of control by tracking down Cassian for a training session, eating lunch and doing some studying that Amren assigned her in the library. By the time she got back to her room, the sun was setting, and she asked the house to bring her dinner to her room.

With her eyes half closed from exhaustion, she plopped down on her couch in front of the already lit fire. When she peeled her eyes open, she noticed a small, folded paper sitting in front of the hearth. She felt her heart jump to her throat as she scrambled to reach for it on the ground. Holding her breath, she unfolded the paper delicately. As if it might turn to ash in her hands.

Dearest Y/n,

I am glad to know you are alright. I was… worried. About you. I am also happy to see your boldness knows no bounds. You fascinate me and I find myself wanting to know you. But it seems you have questions for me too, so let us make a deal. A question for a question. What do you say, little dove?

I eagerly await your response,

Eris

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