#they also seem to be walking it back in the very next scene which I prefer but is weird

[ididntseeurbag]

water fight

pairing: jay x idol!fem!reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers (?)

warnings: mentions of food, kissing, playing with water

in which reader and jay cook together, but get a little sidetracked

a/n: hi! i hope you enjoy this jay imagine i wrote a while ago :) i love writing domestic things and will probably do more in the future with him or other idols <3 also can you tell i love writing about idol!reader lmaoo

the meat aisle inside the convenience store was quite cold, and y/n trembled slightly at the low temperature as she looked for some meat cuts for the dinner she and jay were making back at the boys’ dorms to celebrate their anniversary as a group alongside y/n’s group. as their members rested, the two got in charge of choosing and making the food, since they were their groups’ respective chefs. most times, the members would’ve completely starved for hours hadn’t it been for their cooking skills.

as y/n finally chose thee cuts, she looked at jay, who was picking some fish cakes from a self. “we’re making kimchi and potato pancakes too, right?” she asked.

“yeah,” jay answered, nodding towards her as he scanned the different flours in search of one to make the pancake mix. “i'll go get the ingredients for that and you search for tteokbokki.”

“okay, meet you at the register when you’re done,” y/n told him, and they both parted ways.

soon, they reunited. jay noticed y/n had a bit too much than he thought they needed, so he called her out. “y/n, that’s more than just ingredients,” jay observed, giving her a pointed look.

“i got a bit sidetracked,” the girl chuckled. “i saw snacks that the members liked and i had to get them,” being the leader came with being very observant, and y/n had mentally kept notes on her members’ favourite snacks, so she thought she’d surprise them with the food.

jay looked confused at her words. “but i’m paying?”

“exactly.”

the boy only sighed at her determined expression, but paid for everything nonetheless, being physically unable to say no to her. after putting everything in the bags, they quickly went back to the house to start preparing.

as she entered enhypen’s home, y/n struggled to keep the groceries in her hand as she tried to take off her jacket and shoes. upon noticing, jay quickly took her bags and placed them on the floor before standing in front of her and taking of her thick scarf slowly, smiling at her reddened cheeks because of the cold. “cute,” he mumbled under his breath, but quickly played it cool and avoided her gaze as he set the scarf on one of the coat racks and grabbed one of the bags with the food, walking to the kitchen and avoiding jungwon’s gaze that had seen the whole scene. jay knew he’d get teased eventually, but he tried to stall it for as long as possible.

“here,” y/n said, tossing different snacks to her girls as she passed by the living room, knowing the boys would end up stealing some.

“thanks!” georgie, one of the members, smiled. “did jay pay?”

“of course,” the leader smirked proudly. “also, we’re making kimchi and potato pancakes and tteokbokki along with the meat, is that alright?”

the chorus of “yes” y/n got brought a grin to her face. both her and jay didn’t consult the others before buying the ingredients, but they knew well enough that most of them were craving the plates they were going to prepare.

the two designated cooks started taking the food out of the bags and neatly placed the stuff they needed on the kitchen counter. even as they did simple things like preparing the ingredients and utensils, jay and y/n always worked together well in the kitchen. they helped each other when needed and also gave each other enough space to do their own individual tasks. they had an unspoken language that only they seemed to understand, and it never failed to amaze their members.

after all the things they needed were spread out, the pair shared a look and nodded at the same time, knowing what they had to do next.

“guys!” jay called out. “come get everything to set the table while we start cooking!”

following jay’s command, everyone went to the kitchen quite quickly, so the table was set fast, and they all went back to their activities, meaning the cooks were left alone in the kitchen once more.

as usual, y/n turned on her speaker and put her cooking playlist on (yes, she made a cooking playlist out of the songs that both her and jay liked). most of the time they were silent or singing along to the songs (either softly or at the top of their lungs, there was no in between), but sometimes they engaged in some small conversation about random stuff that happened or that they saw in the company, creating a comfortable and careless atmosphere. y/n loved cooking with jay for that reason, since he never pressured her into conversation or made her feel any sort of pressure. they just shared a space and sort of existed together as they expressed their care for their members through their actions.

although they usually made it look like they hated cooking for so many people, the pair actually loved it, for it one of their main love languages was doing acts of service through making food for their closest friends. they also enjoyed spending time in the kitchen, since it relaxed them and took their thoughts away for a while, the only worry being if the others would like the food (which they always did, much to y/n and jay’s content). even if it had been really hard work for the two on a few occasions, it was still worth it when they saw everyone’s happy faces as they tried the food. plus, they both took any opportunity to hang out together without anyone else in the room, but they wouldn’t admit that out loud just yet.

while they waited for the tteokbokki sauce to reduce a bit, they made the pancakes so they stayed warm until they took all the food to the table. they swiftly cooked them all and stacked them in two plates, their hands slightly greasy from the oil they used.

“let’s wash our hands and then plate the tteokbokki,” suggested y/n.

“good thinking,” the boy agreed. “we don’t want the pan to slip out as we lift it.”

somehow, they both thought it was a great idea to wash their hands at the same time in the kitchen sink, so they had to be really close to each other, their arms touching in order to fit the four hands in the small space. y/n laughed both at the silliness of it all and at the fact that she was in very close quarters with the boy she had ended developing feelings for. it wasn’t intentional at all from her side, they started as great friends and, suddenly, one day, after a few moments where she doubted her stance towards jay, she realised she didn’t want to just be her friend anymore. still, she remained silent about it, not really knowing how to break the news yet.

noticing the sudden proximity, jay took it as an opportunity to playfully annoy the girl. he first put his hands on top of hers, not letting her wash the soap off since he was blocking the water from falling. rolling her eyes, she put her hands over his and finished washing them. unsatisfied with the prior strategy’s results, jay then decided to grab some water, shaping his hands like a bowl, and splashing her face.

“park jongseong!” y/n gasped, the top of her hair fully soaked. “oh, you’re going to regret doing this,” as soon as she said that, she copied the boy’s actions and chased him around the kitchen island until she managed to corner him and poured the water over him, making his hair wet as well. “now we’re even,” she laughed at the sight of his hair drooped down because of the water’s weight. even then, he looked handsome, and y/n’s heart skipped a beat upon seeing him like that.

“everything okay?!” jungwon asked from the living room, since some of them heard a bit of a commotion.

the cooks laughed, taking in their messy appearances, water dropping down their heads into their faces and clothes. “yes!” y/n shouted back, directing her gaze to the door so jungwon could hear her well. “everything’s,” she turned to jay once again, who was looking at her intently. “…fine,” she murmured, fully aware of his gaze. his hooded eyes bore into hers, then moved around to look at her facial features wordlessly. the silence was making y/n anxious, since she didn’t really know what to take from the situation, but still she remained there, in front of him, caged by his presence alone.

the boy still said nothing, choosing to lift his hand instead and bringing it close to the girl’s face. she slightly flinched at first, more as a reflex than anything else, since she knew he wouldn’t harm her in any way, although his next actions did shock her. he slowly moved his hand to fix the wet hair that stuck to her forehead, sweetly tucking one of the strands behind her ear.

y/n’s insides churned at the action, thousands of butterflies swarming around relentlessly, even as she tried to stop them, but to no avail. his actions flustered her, and jay seemed to notice that, for he softly smiled at her, the right corner of his mouth lifting slightly higher than the left as he let out a quiet chuckle, the sound of it being muffled by the music still playing out of the girl’s speaker.

suddenly, something got over jay and it made him want to act without a second thought. seeing that y/n didn’t look particularly uncomfortable but more so startled, even with the position they were in, he proceeded. he started closing the little space that was left between them, and y/n’s eyes widened slightly.

“what are you doing?” she whispered, only loud enough for him to hear.

jay looked at her lips, then back at her eyes. “i’m going to kiss you now,” he stated matter-of-factly as he moved his hand toward the back of her neck. “can i?” he searched for her consent and, upon seeing her not slightly, he proceeded, meeting his lips with hers. he kissed her gently, afraid that she would crumble under him, and y/n almost did, had it not been for jay’s free hand resting comfortably on her waist and keeping her up.

y/n wasn’t really thinking as she kissed the boy back, enjoying the way his hands rested on her body, so gently and radiating such warmth that she felt she’d still feel their weight even after he would let her go. his fingers traced random patterns on the little skin that showed from the crop top she was wearing. she then lifted one hand to his chest, and moved the other to his hair, softly tugging at it from time to time, making the boy kiss her with a bit more force when she did so.

at some point, he ended up grabbing her hips with both hands and lifting her up onto the kitchen counter, letting her legs wrap around his waist as he kept kissing her, moving from her mouth to her cheeks and neck before going back up to her lips. jay knew that, after having had a taste of her, he’d bee going back again and again, no matter the consequences. she was addicting, and he was fully willing to get fully consumed by her. no other thing could make him feel like she did during that moment and every other second he spent with her. he was completely entranced by her being, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

masterlist

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … Y/N & TOJI BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 537k views

⌦ 🎬 ⁺　　　.　　　　❀

꩜ actor! toji x actress! reader

⤷ synopsis : you & toji deny the dating rumours, but you’re both being a little bit too comfortable with each other for your relationship to be just “platonic”.

sfw, fluff, toji is a little ooc <3

. art credits to deltapork on twitter

.. inspired by this post

… part 2, part 3, part 4

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

꩜ first clip

you & toji are in an interview, one to promote the upcoming release of the action movie you both star in where you’re the main love interest. it is bound to be a huge success, judging by the interest and how everyone loves the chemistry you and toji have both in and out of film!

the interviewer asks you a question and while you’re responding you can feel someone staring at you. you turn to your left where toji is sitting, and he has his eyes dead set on you, not looking away for one second. you turn your focus back to the interviewer to continue answering, but you can’t help but turn back and see that he is still staring at you with his intense blue eyes. you repeat this a few times before cutting off your own sentence with a giggle and covering your face with your hands.

toji chuckles in confusion, looking at the interviewer and then back at you, bewildered. “what-whats so funny?”

you look at toji with your hands still covering your face. “toji, i can’t concentrate when you look at me like that!”

toji tilts his head, swiftly shifting his chair in your direction and leans closer to you, practically nose to nose at this point. “like what?”

“like that!” you laugh, covering your hot face once more as he and the interviewer laugh at your actions.

the interviewer chimes in. “i do have to say, your eyes can be quite intimidating..”

“see?!” you say to toji and then look to the interviewer. “thank you.”

toji huffs and just looks at you. and you look back at him with a small grin on your face.

you speak. “as i was saying…”

you repeat your response to the question and toji exaggeratedly stares at you and you attempt to ignore it (and fail).

꩜ second clip

this was a behind the scenes clip, where your cast member is speaking about his characters relationship with the other main characters but sadly for him, that is not where the viewers’ attention was.

in the background, they see toji sitting on a couch looking at his phone and then you walking into frame. toji looks up from his phone, and if you look very closely, he can be seen smiling at you. you walk over and plop down on the couch right next to him. you both talk to each other for a few moments, faces close together and then you lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and taking what appears to be a nap. toji, moving as slowly as he can, takes a blanket that is already on the couch and drapes of over you. you snuggle closer to him, prompting toji to rest his head on top of yours. he does just that.

꩜ third clip

during an interview with you and the cast members, including toji, in front of a live audience, you somehow found yourselves on the topic of the types of cars you all have. you then remember how toji had told you about a motorcycle he owned, but you forgot which kind.

“i think i wanna ride on toji’s..motorcycle! i think-”

you hear the audience laugh and hear a few wolf whistles and you turn to your fellow actors, who are also laughing, especially gojo. you seem confused, but then you think back to what you said a second ago and feel your face heat up in embarrassment.

“oh, no no nonono-” shaking your head vehemently, “that is not-”

“toji’s motorcycle eh?” gojo teases while raising his eyebrows and wiggling his fingers, which only encourages the mockery and your desire to punch him.

you cover your face with your hand and sigh. “oh my god.”

while everybody in the room makes fun of you, you look to the left to see toji’s reaction and the camera pans to his smug smirking face.

“i mean i’m free friday night so..” he trails off, winks at you and the audience goes crazy and you shove your face in your hands.

“forget i even said anything!”

꩜ fourth clip

you and toji were recording a little vlog like video for the fans, talking about what it was like on set when you get onto the subject of what working with the other cast members is like.

“yeah gojo’s is pain in the ass.” toji states and shakes his head, fondly almost. “never stops running that big mouth ‘a his.”

spits of laughter fall from your mouth at his frankness. “uhh..yeah that’s true, gojo if you see this don’t be offended!”

“yeah we still like you we just..wish you’d shut the fuck up more often.”

“toji!” you gasp and slap his chest, “you’re no spring chicken either you know.”

toji scoffs and looks at you with a raised brow. “yeah, you’re a handful yourself.”

“what? no i’m not!” toji tilts his head and blinks. “everyone says i’m great to work with. you’re such a liar.” you roll your eyes with a laugh.

toji chuckles and moves closer to you on the sofa, and leans towards your face. “no ‘s alright. i have big hands.” he places a kiss on your cheek.

“ew, you’re so corny!” you lean away and wipe away his kiss, trying not to smile and look flustered.

꩜ fifth clip

this was a big day for y/n x toji lovers, when a movie you were both in won an award. now, neither of you were the main characters, but the fans made sure to make you both the most popular ones.

while the director is accepting the award, fans zoomed in on you and toji standing near the back of the group of cast members, where you’re tearing up and trying not to cry. you’re wiping your tears and toji looks at you and does a double take when he realises that you’re crying. he looks down at you and hugs you from the side, which makes you lay your head on his chest and wrap an arm around his waist. toji accepts this invitation and full on hugs you, kissing the top of your head softly and rubbing your back.

꩜ sixth clip

toji posts workout videos on his instagram stories. they’re mostly of him lifting weights and they’re rare, so fans cherish them.

and then theres a short video of you laying on top of toji’s back while he does pushups like it’s nothing. you’re smiling, spreading your arms out like you’re flying. toji suddenly starts going fast as fuck, making you bounce and almost fall off. you gasp and start hitting the back of his head while the person recording starts to laugh (most likely gojo).

you fall off toji’s back and lay on the floor like a starfish. the camera pans to a proud looking toji before you kick his face.

a/n: thank u for reading ^_-

[tjwritesfanfics]

I’m not jealous (Aaron Hotchner)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: Aaron was going to show you how not jealous he is.

Rating: Mature 18+ only

Warnings: Jealous Aaron (though he is adamant he isn't), Reader taking advantage of a sweet guy, manhandling, Dom!Aaron, condescending, being called good girl (which made me MELT), Aaron spanks her once, fingering, overstimulation, Aaron is a sweet aftercare guy

Words: 2.9k

Main Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist

Jealousy can be very ugly.

It can also be very hot. And on Aaron Hotchner it was sexy as hell. The way his jaw clenched, his eyes darken, and the air around him just got thick with tension you knew about, but the line was never crossed.

You had feelings for Aaron, everyone in the BAU knew it, he knew it, and he still had yet to decide what, and if, he felt for you.

You always tried to push him, loving the way he seemed so close to losing it only to watch him attempt to reel himself in. Once you had danced with a guy at the bar after a long case and your eyes never left Aaron. No matter how many times the guy dipped his head to kiss (more like slobbered with how drunk he was) your neck, you continued to stare at him, surprised that the glass he was holding didn’t break with the force of his grip, his knuckles already white.

And when you decided you were done with your dance partner, you attempted to leave only to have him get aggressive. You knew you could fit him off if need be, but it was much more satisfying when Aaron strode over and introduced him to that amazing right hook of his.

It was even better when he took you roughly by the waist and led you out of the bar.

In his car, you tried to push a little more, wanting him to finally admit something to you.

“God,” You sigh and brush your hand down his arm, admiring the way they flex under your touch, “You are so hot when you are jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“There is no need to deny the chemistry between us, Aaron. We aren’t on the clock so you aren’t my Unit Chief, and I am not your underling, though I would so love to be under you.” You purr, warmth flooding your as his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, your eyes following the motion longingly.

It would be easier if he would just give in to what was going on between the two of you.

But sadly, that was where the night ended for you.

Aaron took you back to your apartment, walked you up (like the gentleman he was), and left you there all alone.

Over the next few months you tried again and again to prove there was something between you, not only physically, but emotionally as well.

Pulling him out of his office for lunch or bringing it to him, just to make sure he would eat. Putting sticky notes on his monitor or his desk with little encouragements and reminders since you knew he could get too far into his own head and needed some help out.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t do things for you.

Bringing you coffee, made just to your liking, at the beginning of the shift or when you run low on your own coffee. He always seemed to know when you needed your fix. He also would save you a seat on the plane, the one next to the window because he knows you like to look out at the clouds during long flights.

“When we land, Y/n, Reid and I will go to the police station to set up. Morgan, you and Emily check out the crime scene.”

Aaron dished out the rest of the orders as the plane started to descend. Honestly after he told you where you were going to be, which of course was with him because he always seemed to think he needed to keep an eye on you, something you couldn’t decide if was out of how similar your skill sets are or because he has a constant need to be near you, you stopped listening.

You were certain that it was both. You knew Aaron wouldn’t sacrifice the case or the people involved just for a romantic feeling towards you.

Once you landed and got to the police station, everything seemed to flash by in a whirlwind.

You barely had any time to focus on anything other than catching the asshole that was killing women.

“You seem to be running into the ground, Agent.”

Officer Danny Grant was such a little cutie and seemed to immediately take a liking to you.

“I’ll rest when we catch this guy.” You reach for your cup of awful cop coffee, even though it was the only thing keeping you going at the moment, but frowned when you found the cup empty.

Cursing, you turn away from the board to get more.

“Here.” Grant offered you another cup, his face a little flushed and a smile on his lips. “I noticed you were low. I don’t know how you take it so I just made it black. If you need any creamer or sugar I can get it for you.”

“Thanks, Grant.” You smiled and took the cup. The warmth of it not only warming your hands, but your heart a little as well. Usually Aaron would bring you coffee, but this case seemed to take a toll on him, which you remind yourself you would have to check on him later. Now that someone else noticed and cared enough to bring you something so small, yet so vital, was sweet.

You take a sip of the black coffee, wishing it was sweeter, but the jolt of bitterness was the wake up you needed.

“I usually like it sweet, but black is fine. It’s just what I need.”

Grant continued to stick to your side, helping with the case whenever he could and bringing you more coffee (this time with a side of sugar). He was actually very helpful and you enjoyed the company of him, conversation and ideas bouncing easily.

Aaron on the other hand didn’t like the attention you were getting from the young, wide eyed officer.

He couldn’t stand the fact that he was distracting you from the case at hand (even though he wasn’t actually), the way you laughed when he said something you deemed funny, but it wasn’t, and the thing he hated the most was the smile you beamed at him when he brought you more coffee.

The smile you usually only gave him. Why were you giving it to this guy? Even when the group went out and you flirted with other men, knowing that it would get a rise out of him (though he would never admit it out loud) you never gave them that kind smile, the one that made your nose scrunch up so adorably.

It would be so easy for Aaron to go over there. He can imagine himself pulling you away from Grant. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how you felt pressed against his own body. The amount of nights he had to pull himself away from you, unable to cross that line, the line between boss and subordinate. A line that he’s tiptoed since the first time he saw you.

If only it was that simple to give into you.

A few hours later, you could feel your steam running out and your eyes drooping, no matter how much coffee you drank.

“There hasn’t been any new information.” Aaron’s voice woke you just before your head hit the conference table for the second time that night, “Let’s call it a night and look at this in the morning with fresh eyes.”

“No no,” you whine, failing to lift your eyelids, “I can keep going.”

“Agent Hotchner is right. Come on, let's get you to the hotel.”

Just as Grant reached for you, Aaron was quick to his feet, striding over to you with only a few steps and grabbing your shoulder before Grant could. “I have her.” Aaron lifted you up, one hand resting under both of your legs and the other on your back, smirking at Grant as you wrap your arms around his neck and snuggle into him.

The look of shock on the officer’s face was sickeningly satisfying.

Never would Aaron be this bold, especially in front of others, but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn't just let this man touch you. Not after spending all day watching his poor attempts at flirting.

You could, and probably would, be upset with him tomorrow.

Aaron lifted his chin, daring others to say anything as he made his way through the precinct with you tucked in his arms. Once you were outside, you push your face into his neck subconsciously, inhaling his scent and sending a shiver through him, thankful that at least some part of you waited until you were out of sight to get clingy with him.

“You are,” You yawn, lips brushing against his skin,”so hot when you are jealous.”

“I am not jealous.”

All you did was hum in response as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

For the rest of the case you stuck to Grant every chance you got, barely paying Aaron any attention.

He knew you were doing it on purpose. You knew he knew that you knew you were doing it on purpose.

Thankfully the team was able to wrap up the case and it was only one night left before you left.

No more case. No more reason to stay in California. No more Grant.

Aaron wonders if he should be as happy as he was as he pressed the button for your floor on the elevator. He doesn’t have much time to think about it when a minute later the elevator door opens and he sees Grant standing at your door, leaning against the open door with you.

“So now that the case is over, do you want to get dinner before you leave? I’m sure hotel food isn’t as good as a good burger at this little dive I know down the street.”

You giggle at his forwardness. While you do love and want Aaron, turning down a free meal from a cute man before you never see him again couldn’t hurt, right?

“You know a little dive? Is it a ‘California delicacy?’”

Grant leaned in, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh absolutely.”

Rage and jealousy flows through Aaron, his jaw and fists clenched. His legs carried him towards you before his brain could catch up.

No more games.

In a flash, Aaron grabbed Grant by the collar of his shirt, yanking him back and away from you.

“A Aaron?!” You squeak as the man pushes you into your hotel room, closing and locking the door behind you.

His hands grab your wrists, tugging and trapping them above your head, the air leaving you completely as his lips crash against yours.

The months and months of tension finally exploded within you, arching your hips to meet him, gasping when he grips your wrists tighter in warning.

“You really can’t resist flirting can you?” Aaron’s voice may have been calm, almost bored, but his eyes betrayed the fire, the anger he held. “You just love to rile me up.”

“I thought,” you moan when he moves to kiss your neck, “you weren’t jealous.”

His laugh is condescending, one of his hands snaking down to your side while the other held tight. This was the Aaron Hotchner you wanted, the one you knew he could be if you just pushed right, but now that he was here you didn’t quite know how to handle him.

Not that you would let him know. Not as your body shivers when he rests his hand on your waist, nails digging through the material of your jeans.

“You and I both know I am not. Why be jealous when your body is so truthful with me? It tells me everything,” His smirk widens as he cupped your cunt and you whine, subconsciously grinding against his hand, seeking the dull pleasure you could get through the two layers of fabric separating you, “I need to know. It is an open book for me.”

You want to cry when Aaron withdraws from you, only proving his point further. God you want him. More than absolutely anything.

“Now be a good girl and get on the bed. I want you naked and on all fours by the time I get out of the bathroom.”

“T The bathr…” Your words die on your lips when Aaron gives you a pointed stare, one that has you clenching around nothing, before he walks away from you and into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, almost as if daring you to disobey him.

As much as you wanted to, just to see what he would do to you, you decided that would be for a different time. Quickly shedding your top and jeans, you obey like the good girl you want to be for him.

You wait for what feels like an eternity, but was probably only five minutes before you could hear Aaron’s footsteps coming out of the bathroom. Instinct has you turning your head to look at him, “Don’t you fucking move.” but his harsh voice has you snapping it back and a shiver running down your spine.

Or was that his fingers that danced along your back? Honestly you didn’t know, but you didn;t have time to ponder it before he splayed his open palm across one of your ass cheeks, drawing back and coming down with a swift smack.

You moan, the sudden motion causing you to fall forward, your arms giving out.

“Just a little taste of what happens when you play with me.” Aaron rubbed the spot where you were sure was going to be slightly red from the force. “But I won’t give you more since you seemed to follow my orders like such a good girl.”

A whine escapes you at his words. You wanted to hear them over and over. To be praised by him over and over. His fingers ghost from your ass straight to your center, pressing and feeling, but never fully sinking into you.

“Oh fuck,” You squirm under his carful attention, “Please. Please Aaron!”

“Please what? How will I know what you want without words?”

You cry as the tip of his finger comes dangerously close to your clit only for him to pull it away just as quickly. You knew what he was doing. He was teasing you just like you had teased him, almost like a form of sick payback, and though he did have the upper hand, you felt like you had already won.

You had him in bed.

“Please touch me, Aaron. I need your hands on me, in me, anything.”

“There we go.” 

The reward for your confession was sweet. His fingers circled your clit, applying the right amount of pressure that had you moaning loudly. Aaron continued to work you, leaving your brain in a haze of pleasure which only intensified when he finally moved to sink one finger into your core.

“Fuck..” Aaron curses, his finger setting a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you, admiring the embarrassingly wet noises your cunt makes. “You are so wet.”

You moan when he slides a second finger in, then a third, the stretch burning oh so deliciously.

He’s got you at his mercy, hips rocking back to meet his thrusts, drool pooling on the hotel sheets below you. “Aaron!” You cry, the coil in your gut pushing and pushing you closer to the edge, threatening to break and toss you into a sweet release.

“Let go.”

With his permission, and his fingers brushing that sweet spot that made you see stars, you do.

You scream as your orgasm crashes into you. If the outside could hear you, you didn’t care. All that mattered was Aaron, his name the only thing occupying your mind and the only thing spilling out of your mouth as if it was the only name you knew.

And right now it was.

Aaron continued to thrust his fingers into you, helping you through your orgasm until you tried to pull away from him, but his other hand gripped your waist, pulling you back and onto his fingers.

“Aaron!” You squirmed. It was too much, but you didn’t want him to stop as his fingers expertly stroked and thrust, bringing you to a second orgasm in record time. Tears prick your eyes, your body shaking, feeling weightless and not here.

You didn’t even notice when Aaron carefully turned you on your back, brushing your hair back from your face and kissing your forehead. He treated you like procaline, peppering kisses all over your face until you came back to him. “There’s my girl.”

His girl. The thought had you smiling like a lovesick fool, which was appropriate because you were. No longer were the steel eyes and lustful gaze, but soft brown eyes filled with an adoration you weren’t used to seeing. You swallow and reach for him. Aaron wrapped you in his arms and held you close.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Now what? Was he going to continue? Fuck you? Or, and something you hoped he wouldn’t do, leave you.

Aaron, the ever brilliant profiler he was, could see the war going on in your head before you could speak. He leaned down to kiss you, hand gently rubbing shapes on your upper thigh.

“Don’t worry. I will be right here for more when you wake.”

You feel a little guilty about not returning the favor, but Aaron quickly shuts that down. He grabs the hotel comfort and pulls it up, covering the two of you, tucking you into his chest. Your eyes feel heavy from the force of cumming twice (and Aaron’s skilled fingers) that you couldn’t seem to argue, eyes closing as sleep takes over.

You definitely would make him feel good when you wake up.

(Banners by cafekitsune)

[hattiewritesalot]

Poison

Azriel x Reader

Summary: At an event hosted by High Lord Beron, Azriel's closest friend Y/N seems to be incredibly wasted. The only problem? Azriel knows that she doesn't get drunk. Ever.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, poison, vomiting, a drunk love confession, a bit of angst but it is all in all quite fluffy

A/N: So this may or may not be inspired by the scene in Wicked King where Cardan gets poisoned... enjoy!! :3

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Y/N is, as always, on high alert as she follows Rhys into the ballroom. Something combined with her dislike for social events and her lack of trust for the High Lord of Autumn meant her eyes and ears were everywhere, keeping constant watch over everything. Azriel’s large hand gently splays over her bare back, the rough fingers a gentle reminder that he’s there, and possibly to tell her to stop being so tense. She shoots a glare at her best friend, who responds with a badly-concealed smile.

She’s dressed in black, they all are, as is custom in the Night Court. Her dress is floor length, the black satin offering a nice hold around her figure, the neckline a low plunge, and the slit on her left side allowing her some freedom. The fabric is littered with silver threads and diamonds, meant to represent constellations, and also to match the sparkly heels on her feet. She looks pretty. She feels it.

A servant welcomes them warmly, almost immediately offering the group a drink of champagne, which she takes. Cassian snorts, and teases her for taking the only glass that the poor servant had, but she rolls her eyes and takes a sip.

She rarely drinks. She doesn’t like it. She’s seen enough of the boys’ drunk shenanigans to be put off it for a lifetime. She usually stays sober, if not tipsy, whenever they go to Rita’s, opting for escorting a stumbling Rhys back to Feyre rather than being the one stumbling.

But one drink won’t hurt. Not tonight. Tonight, she’ll need it.

The Inner Circle split up around the room, Azriel hot on Y/N’s trails, scarred fingers just barely tracing her bare shoulders. She sighs, leaning against a wall, him doing the same. “Time check?”

Azriel snorts. “You’re the one with the watch.”

She clicks her tongue, and checks the time, leaning back with a groan. “Two more hours of… this.”

“Always a ray of sunshine.”

“Says the shadowsinger.” she grins. Azriel was the first person she’d met in the Inner Circle, and coincidentally, her closest friend. They’d been attached at the hip the moment she’d introduced herself. They know everything about each other, inside and out. 

She’d never admit it, but her heart longed for the Illyrian. He was always so clever, so considerate. And, not to mention, his sharp features and hazel eyes made heat rise in her cheeks; hot, blissful, lovestruck heat.

“I think Cassian wants me for something.” Azriel muses, tipping his chin towards where Cassian was very unsubtly gesturing for him to accompany him. Y/N narrows her eyes at the redhead he’s standing with, and laughs. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that were Eris Vanserra. Good luck, Az.”

Azriel groans, playfully tugging her hair as he walks over to his brother.

All alone, now. She drinks her champagne, downing it almost immediately. She liked champagne. It never got you too drunk, never made you too irrational. “Enjoying the festivities, Y/N?” Beron’s voice purrs out from behind her. She forces a smile.

“I’d say yes, but it appears I’ve run out of champagne.” The High Lord cocks a brow at her words, and offers her another glass with a different, more vibrant liquid. “Try this. It’s exclusive to the Autumn Court. I believe you’ll enjoy it, it’s not too strong.”

She eyes the glass, before taking it, taking a sip. It’s a subtle flavour - fruity, slightly bitter. “Thank you, my lord.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he walks away. 

Cauldron, this drink is good. She drinks every last drop, and places it down on the table next to her, looking for a bottle of the same-

Oh. Oh. This is fun. Fun, fun, fun!

Why isn’t she having fun! Tonight is amazing!

An uncontrollable giggle tears from her throat, the sound throwing her off slightly as wave after wave of lucid dizziness hit her. She laughs, clutching her chest. This is so fun!

Where’s Azriel? Is he having fun? Oh, she loves him. Loves him so much. Where is he!?

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Azriel cracks his neck, obviously not wanting to engage with the eldest son of the High Lord, who clearly would rather be anywhere else. Cassian is long gone, with the excuse of seeing Nesta, and now Azriel has been left to deal with Eris. This could not get any worse.

Until it does.

Y/N beams at him, tripping over her feet to get to him, stumbling as she slumps into his arms, snorting and giggling. He freezes. Eris chokes on a laugh. Her hands reach up to grab his face and tug at his hair.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, taken slightly off-guard by her strange behaviours.

“Azzy!” she squeals, laughing and kissing his cheek. Eris cocks a brow. “Looks like your little Y/N’s had too much to drink.” His words echo around Azriel’s head. No, that can’t be. Y/N doesn’t like drinking. And why would she get drunk here of all places? And why-

His heart sinks. Her pupils are dilated. Her body is trembling. Her skin is turning clammy. 

This isn’t alcohol. It’s poison. 

His eyes go wide as he pulls her form into his arms. “Y/N?” he mumbles, a little firmer now. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, silly!” she squeals. Eris laughs again, and Azriel’s head whips towards him. “What the fuck did you do to her!?” The eldest son’s eyes widen at his harsh, almost growling tone. 

“Me? I’ve done nothing. She’s just drunk, shadowsinger.” He sneers at him down his pointy nose. Azriel clutches Y/N closer, ignoring all of her babbles as she squishes his cheeks and tugs his dark locks like a child. 

“I love you!” she squeals. “I love you sooooo much. So much. I wish we were mates.” she slurs. Azriel takes a shaky breath at her words, and Eris gestures to her flailing form. “See? Drunk.”

“She’s not- she’s not drunk, she’s- fuck, where’s Rhys?” His tone is desperate as he searches for the High Lord. Y/N’s knees start to buckle, but he wraps her arms around her thighs. “Stay with me, sweetheart, you’re gonna be okay.” He manages to catch the attention of Rhys, whose eyes go wide at the sight of Y/N’s slumped form, and he rushes to them. “What-”

“She’s been poisoned.” Azriel chokes out, panic surging in his veins as he hugs his girl as tightly as he can to his chest. “We- we need to get her out.” Rhys takes a breath, and seems to send a message to Feyre, because she starts to round everyone up. “She’ll be okay, Az, just calm down-”

“I’m not going to calm down! She could die!” He snaps. Rhys backs off at the protective gaze in his brother’s eyes. “Get her back to the Night Court, I’ll sort out here.” Azriel hooks one arm under her knees and the other on her back as he closes his eyes, winnowing back to Velaris. 

She squirms, shoving herself onto the cold floor of the Moonstone Palace, and she pukes, gasping and gagging. He shushes her gently, his shadows swirling around her and stroking her hair back as she retches. “It’s okay, you’re okay. Get it all out.”

As she vomits, his mind can’t help but flick back to what she said in the Autumn Court. ‘I love you!’ ‘I wish we were mates.’ His heart flutters at the recollection, but he silently growls at it to shut up. She’s been poisoned. Her head isn’t right. She was probably just saying words for the fun of it. She doesn’t mean it. She doesn’t mean it.

But still…

No, heart, stop it.

He pulls her up against his chest when she’s finished, gently rubbing her back. She sobs, slurring unintelligible words. He kisses her sweaty temple and carefully carries her up to her room, murmuring sweet nothings to keep her calm, but her body thrashes. Her eyes are rolling back. His hands are shaking. 

He just about manages to get her writhing form onto the bed when Rhys arrives, Madja hot on his trails. “She’s been poisoned?” she asks. Y/N screams in response. Rhys winces at the noise, but the expression worsens at the fury on Azriel’s face.

“Azriel-”

“Go on.” He growls. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t storm back in there and kill them all.”

“Because first of all, that’ll be a lot of paperwork for me, and second of all, I don’t think Y/N wants you to leave.”

Rhys is, frustratingly, right. Y/N has taken it upon herself to latch onto Azriel’s arm, clutching him and mumbling profusely, cheek squished against his bicep. He sighs, and gently pats her hair, shooting a glare to the High Lord of Night in the process.

He sits with her the entire time Madja treats her, his fingers tightly intertwined with hers. The healer concludes that she’ll be okay, but not without side-effects. She says he was clever to get her home so quickly. It wasn’t out of intelligence, it was out of fear.

She gives Y/N a sleeping draught, just so her aching body can get some rest, and then she leaves. Azriel stares at his best friend’s face, and figures he should do the same. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead, smiles at her fluttering eyes, and moves to leave.

Standing in the doorway, however, his eyes flit back to hers, the hazel of his irises connecting with her soft hues.

And then he feels it.

Like a string pulled taut, it snaps within his chest, flooding his veins with the pure bliss of finally having something to protect, to care for, to love. It roars throughout his body, his heart burning with the golden flames of the bond.

Mate.

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PART TWO HERE!!

lol hmu I write for acotar now

[pedrospatch]

fall into temptation | one

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56, i know, i know but this is self indulgent because my birthday is next month idk just let me have this one) canon language, canon violence, several mentions of religion, terms pastor and preacher are used interchangeably here and there, mentions of the bible and religious symbols (cross), innocent/virgin reader, very brief scene of attempted sexual assault, no explicit smut (yet). asshole Joel, protective Joel, hints of softish dom Joel (if you squint). reader has two sisters, the only physical description for them is their hair, which they can also braid as well as their style of clothing.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 8.4k

Jackson, Wyoming

Fall 2024

Joel had seen him around the community before. 

He’s an older man in his late sixties or possibly his early seventies with thinning, snow white hair and silver, wire rimmed glasses that always seemed to be perched on the tip of his pointed nose. He was a good, kind man from what Joel could gather—offering up warm smiles and friendly waves to anyone who happened to cross his path, stopping to greet and say hello to familiar faces. The hem of his starched white shirt is tucked into pressed black slacks and even from where he stood across the road near the horse stables, Joel noticed the book clutched in his right hand, old and bound in supple, worn black leather with the words Holy Bible etched into the cover in flaked gold lettering.

Jacob, he thinks his name is. Or was it Josiah?

Something biblical—a name fit for a man who was so fucking clearly devoted to the big man upstairs.

Joel knew his own name was a biblical one, but he was the furthest thing from a man of God. After all that he’d done in the past twenty years, there was only one place he was going and that place wasn’t exactly known for its pearly gates or sweet cherub angels playing harps.

Joseph? Was that it? 

He couldn’t be certain.

Not that Joel really even cared to know his name. 

It’d been a couple months since Joel arrived back in Jackson with Ellie after Salt Lake City and the truth of the matter was that he preferred to keep to himself whenever it was possible. Joel had zero interest in getting to know the people of this settlement, not unless he had to for the sake of patrol duties—and that’s only if he hadn’t been able to weasel his way out of getting assigned with a partner who wasn’t Tommy or Maria, the only two people in the whole fucking community Joel could stand being around. Minus his kid of course, but even he and Ellie could really only take each other in small doses lately. Perhaps it was their tense, strained relationship that was to blame for the fact that Joel Miller walked around this place with a standoffish attitude and a permanent scowl plastered on his face. 

Most people were smart enough to scamper off in the opposite direction when they saw him coming. He was never offended by it. It’s what he wanted. He wasn’t here to make friends.

In fact, the closest thing he had come to a friend outside of his brother’s wife was Esther, the woman Maria and Tommy had tried setting him up with when he first got back to Jackson. He wouldn’t go as far as calling her a friend, either. That’s a little too generous. Friend? No, more like a good fuck when he couldn’t drown his bitterness with Seth’s barrel aged bourbon and he was in need of a different kind of distraction.

But there was a reason this particular man piqued his curiosity. Actually, there were three reasons he managed to garner Joel’s attention and all three of those reasons were trailing behind him in an orderly, single file line, each one more fucking gorgeous than the last. He was positive he’d never seen them around before—because how could he possibly forget the faces of the most beautiful women in this town?

They’ve gotta be sisters, Joel thought to himself, his hand resting on the neck of the horse that he’d ridden out to patrol that morning, a dark, chestnut mare named Willow. Although he was supposed to be walking her inside the stables and back into her stall, he found himself far too distracted. While the three women weren’t identical to one another, the similarity in their traits such as hair color and their skin tone confirmed his suspicions that they were related. They all styled their hair in neat halo braids and wore slightly different color variations of the same getup—pressed, long sleeved blouses tucked into knee length floral printed skirts and worn, leather oxford shoes.

Clutching the brown leather strap of his rifle in his opposite hand, Joel leaned himself against Willow and squinted against the bright afternoon sunlight in an effort to get a better look at them. 

The first two were slightly on the older side. If Joel had to take a shot at their age, he would guess the women were in their thirties—a man of fifty six, he still had about two decades on them, easy. Joel let his gaze shift, his dark brown eyes flickering to the last one. His breath audibly hitched in his throat and part of him wondered just how fucking dumb he had to be to be drawn to the youngest one of the three. It couldn’t be fucking possible—you couldn’t be that much older than your mid twenties, if that. 

Joel’s grip on the strap of his rifle tightened. 

All three of you were beautiful beyond words—why the fuck did it have to be you who held over his interest?

“Take a picture,” Maria remarked with a tiny laugh. She dismounted her horse and peered at Joel over the black stallion’s back. “It’ll last longer.”

She’d led that morning’s patrol, her first time back on duty since she had given birth to her son in the spring. Joel had returned to Jackson right on time to meet his one month old nephew, Noah. 

He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Just tryin’ to figure out what their deal is, that’s all.” He paused, then remarked, “Didn’t know polygamy was a thing around here.”

His comment must have struck a nerve in his dear sister in law—fiercely protective of the people who were under her leadership, Maria hadn’t found the sister wives implication the slightest bit amusing. 

“Watch it, Joel,” she admonished, shooting him a warning glare. “He’s the town’s pastor and those girls happen to be his daughters. So let’s keep our wise ass cracks to ourselves, shall we?”

His daughters? He almost couldn’t believe it. Surely the girls must have taken after their mother because they sure as hell didn’t get their good looks from their old man. They hardly looked anything like him.

“Pastor,” Joel repeated with a small hum. He then remembered her pointing out an old church house back during the winter when she’d given him and Ellie the grand tour of the community. “So he ain’t got a real job like the rest of us?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “His job is a real job, Joel. It might be hard for you to believe, but there are still a lot of people of faith around here,” she explained to him. “He provides them with comfort and with hope—”

He snorted sharply through his nose. “Hope?”

“Yes, hope,” she snapped at him. 

“Hope for what, Maria? That things will go back to fuckin’ normal? That the end of the world is temporary?”

Maria crossed her arms over her chest, jutting her chin. “Some people never lose hope, Joel. There’s a lot of people who need this man and he serves a much bigger purpose than what you’re giving him credit for.”

“And what about the girls? They have it easy too? Do they just stand there lookin’ pretty on Sundays while their old man reads verses out loud from the most useless fuckin’ book known to man?”

“If you must know, they work in the schoolhouse,” she answered, tossing him another glare. “They’re teachers. The oldest one, she teaches Ellie’s class. The middle one, she teaches the primary school aged children and the youngest? She takes care of all of our little ones. She prepares our preschool kids for her sister’s class by teaching them numbers and basic literacy. Shows them how to start counting, reading and writing, things like that. She also helps run the commune’s daycare.”

“At least they have real jobs,” Joel mumbled under his breath. 

“What was that?”

He feigned innocence. “Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Maria pointed her finger at him. “Come on, let’s get these guys back into their stalls. It was a long ride this morning, I’m sure they could use some rest.” Taking her stallion by the reins, she started leading him over toward Logan, one of the stable hands who helped take in the horses coming back from patrol. 

Joel took Willow’s reins in his hands—but before he could even think of moving another muscle, he glanced up and saw the preacher leading his three daughters past the stables and right past Joel. His self control faltered. All that he could do was stare at you, his eyes fixed on you so blatantly that one of your sisters had taken notice. Grinning, she turned back towards you and lifted a hand to her mouth. She used her palm to shield her lips from Joel’s view and whispered something to you over her shoulder.

Shit. 

He’d been caught gawking.

He thought about making a beeline for the stables but it was too late. 

Perplexed by whatever it was that your older sister had just said to you, you gave her an odd look, but then followed the subtle nod of her head. 

Glimpsing over in his direction, your lips parted in complete surprise and you came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the dirt road when you found your gaze meeting that of the much older, rugged man standing there with a gun slung over his shoulder.

Unsure of what else to do, Joel simply offered you a polite nod of his head. The gesture was innocent enough but it startled you. He could tell by the way you let out a small gasp and turned away from him, your eyes falling to the ground as you scurried to catch up to your father and sisters like a spooked little mouse. 

Joel couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh.

“Is the preacher aware that his precious little daughters pay frequent visits to The Tipsy Bison at such late and ungodly hours?” Joel quipped. He gestured to a booth nestled over in a corner of the dimly lit bar with a subtle jerk of his chin. “S’gotta be the third or fourth time I’ve seen them here in the last couple of weeks.”

Tommy’s eyes followed his brother’s gesture. “Oh man, not again,” he said with an exasperated sigh. He shook his head. “Those girls, they ain’t got no fuckin’ business hangin’ around this place and much less at this fuckin’ hour. But the middle one, she’s a whole lot of trouble.” He paused, just long enough to nod at one of the three sisters, the one who was wearing her hair loose around her shoulders, twirling a lock of it around her finger as she made flirtatious fuck me eyes at the group of drunk patrolmen sitting a few tables away. “She’s somethin’ of a rebel, that one. Likes to drink a lot, get herself involved with things that she ain’t really supposed to be messin’ with. She’s the one who convinces the other two into sneakin’ out and comin’ to the bar when their old man goes to sleep.”

Joel chuckled in disbelief. “You fuckin’ serious?”

“As a heart attack. And then there’s the older one. I know she likes to drink too, but she’s a lot calmer than the other one. Ain’t gotta worry about her all too much, y’know? She tries to be the chaperone—it don’t always work out that way, though. Her halo ain’t exactly perfect either.”

“What ‘bout the youngest one?” Joel asked in the most nonchalant tone he could possibly muster. “Where does she fall on the scale between angel and devil?”

You’re carefully perched on the edge of the booth, your pretty features twisting in disgust with every sip of the rich, amber colored liquid in your glass. Unable to stomach the burning alcohol, you set it off to the side, abandoning it in favor of a glass of water instead.

“Her?” Tommy grinned, leaning back into his chair as stated, “Oh, she’s an absolute angel. She’s just ‘bout the sweetest fuckin’ thing you’ll ever see in your whole damn life, big brother. She’s gotta be the kinda girl who all the little birds and woodland critters sing to when there ain’t no one around,” he laughed. “She’s real good. Too good. Wouldn’t surprise me if the lord sent her down from heaven himself.”

Joel tossed him a skeptical look across the table.

“She really as innocent as she seems?” 

“I don’t think she even knows what it’s like to hold another man’s hand,” his younger brother laughed again and reached for his beer, taking a generous swig. 

Joel hummed softly and lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips. The mere thought of you being so pure and so innocent—untouched by anyone else—caused something to stir deep in his lower belly. 

“She’s the old man’s pride and joy,” Tommy continued, breaking into his train of thought. “Kind. Polite. Behaves. Doesn’t get herself into any kinda trouble—I mean look at her, she can’t even choke down a glass of whiskey. She’s just too good of a girl.”

Joel proceeded cautiously with his next question. “Any of them taken?” 

Surprised, Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Joel, don’t fuckin’ tell me—”

“No, I ain’t interested,” he interjected, rolling his eyes. “Just a curious motherfucker, that’s all.”

He didn’t seem too convinced by Joel’s answer. “They’re all single from what I know. To be honest, there ain’t a whole lot of men around here their old man would approve of,” he remarked. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice man and all, but when it comes to his daughters, he’s real strict. Not that controllin’ has done him much good, though.” He lowered his voice as a fellow patrolman walked past their table. “The middle one’s fucked her way through this entire town and then back again. She even made a pass at me while Maria was pregnant with Noah, if you can fuckin’ believe that.”

Amused, Joel snorted into his drink. Ballsy. “How goddamn drunk was she?”

Tommy ran a hand through his jet black curls. “Wasted. Oldest one ain’t exactly the Virgin Mary, either.”

“And the old man doesn’t know?”

“Nope. Ain’t nobody gonna snitch on grown women in their thirties.” Noticing the amused expression on Joel’s face, he adds, “By the way, just in case you haven’t figured it out, this stays between us, Joel.”

He smirked. “Which part?”

“All of it. And take it from me, those girls? S’best you keep your distance from them,” he warned as he stood up from the table. He picked up the blue denim jacket draped over his chair, shrugging into it. “Don’t go gettin’ any dumbass ideas, alright?”

“Look, if the wild one makes a pass at me, I ain’t gonna turn her down. S’not like I’ve got a pregnant wife at home.”

“Joel, I fuckin’ swear. If you even think ‘bout it—”

He held up his hands to stop him. “Relax. Was just a joke.”

“Right. M’sure it was.” Tommy snorted. “Listen, I gotta get back home. Don’t wanna leave Maria on her own with the baby for too long.”

“How’s she been holdin’ up?”

“She’s been so tired. Jugglin’ motherhood, runnin’ this place, and bein’ back on patrol duty. I keep on tryin’ to tell her to slow it down, but she just won’t listen to me.” He let out a small sigh and waved a dismissive hand. “But anyway. If you’re all good to head out, I can walk you back to your place since it’s on the way to mine?”

Joel looked down at his glass, still half full. “I think I’m gonna hang back for a while longer. I’m on the roster for evenin’ patrol tomorrow, s’not like I’ve gotta be up at the ass crack of dawn.”

“Suit yourself.” Clapping him on the back, Tommy bid him goodnight and started towards the door. 

As soon as he was gone, Joel looked over towards your booth. He watched as you whispered into the ear of your eldest sister who nodded her head in understanding. You stood up and said something else to her, then spun around on your heel, long skirt flowing along with the movement. Head down, you hastily made your way across the bar, being careful so as not to bump into anyone along the way.

You were leaving. Alone. 

In the middle of the fucking night? While drunk morons poured in and out of the bar?

She’ll be just fine, he tried to convince himself. 

Joel frowned to himself, gripping his drink tightly in his hand as he scanned the room.

Sitting at a nearby table was Kent, some idiot he’d been stuck with a time or two for patrol. He clocks the smirk that crossed the younger man’s face, his eyes following you all the way to the door. Leaning forward over the table, he whispered something to his buddies, his smirk widening. His comrades, all who looked and behaved more like teenagers rather than grown men, lifted their beers to him, nodding in encouragement. Drunk off his ass, Kent drained the rest of his own beer, slamming the glass bottle down onto the table before clumsily stumbling to his feet. 

Joel momentarily froze as soon as he realized what was happening. 

Kent was going after you. 

Joel’s lips pressed together into a tight, thin line.

Setting his drink down, he stood up from his table and slipped on his jacket before following suit.

Joel stepped out of the bar and into the night, the chilly evening air nipping at his face. He took a look around. 

You were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Kent. 

That couldn’t fucking be good. 

“Where the fuck did you two go,” he muttered to himself under his breath.

That’s when he heard it. 

The sound of muffled screaming coming from the side of the building. Joel didn’t hesitate. Following your smothered cries for help, he whipped around into the dimly lit alley nestled in between the bar and the commune’s mess hall. You’re pinned underneath Kent with your skirt bunched up around your waist. One of his hands was covering your mouth while his other hand clawed its way up your bare thigh. 

“Aw, c’mon now, sugar,” Kent slurred his words together. “It’d be a fucking shame to let someone as cute as you stay a fucking virgin. Don’t be coy—I know you’re just like your stupid slut of a sister. She’s got no trouble spreading her fucking legs for me, y’know.”

Red.

It was the color that flashed in Joel’s mind. It was all he could see as he went up behind Kent, letting his hands reach for fistfuls of his leather jacket. He lifted him off of you with ease, slamming him hard against the brick wall of the mess hall. Pulling him forward, Joel slammed his body into the wall once more, knocking all the wind out of his lungs. 

“Miller, what the fuck are you doing!” Kent gasped out, frantically pawing at the older man’s hands in an effort to break free. “Get the fuck off me!”

“Takin’ advantage of an innocent girl?” Joel hissed at him, tightening his grasp on the collar of Kent’s jacket. “Think that makes you a fuckin’ man?”

Though he was still intoxicated, the sheer terror of being caught in Joel Miller’s hands sobered him just enough that he started sputtering an explanation. “I wasn’t fucking taking advantage of her! Her and her whore sisters were making eyes at me and the guys all fucking night! She fucking wanted it! She asked me for it, couldn’t even wait long enough to get back to my place—”

The lie came straight through his chattering teeth. The same teeth he would be picking up off the ground in the next minute or two. 

Joel knew he didn’t need to ask. Still, he turned to you, his rage only intensifying when he took in the sight of you lying there on the ground, the hem of your light blue floral skirt hiked around your waist. 

“That true?” He questioned you. “You wanted it?”

You stared at him with wide and fearful eyes.

A single tear slipped down the side of your face.

“Answer me, darlin’,” he prompted. “You wanted this?”

“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was small, barely audible.

But he’d heard it loud and clear. 

“She’s lying!” Kent tried to tell him. “She’s—”

Joel delivered the first punch, a blow so hard he’d felt the younger man’s nose crack underneath his curled fist. He struck him again and again, the blows coming in harder and harder, turning Kent’s face into a bloodied pulp.

If Joel didn’t get a grip, he would kill him. Part of him wanted to fucking kill Kent for putting his hands you—and more so for accusing of you wanting it. Pathetic fucking bastard. 

Holding Kent up by the throat with one hand, Joel pulled his switchblade from the back pocket of his jeans with the other. Fingers curled tightly around the hilt, Joel held up the knife into Kent’s view. He had left his eyes purple and swollen, but judging by the pitiful little pleas for mercy, it was clear that he could still somehow see the sharp blade being held an inch or so away from his face. 

“If I ever catch you anywhere near her again, I ain’t gonna be so fuckin’ generous,” Joel growled warningly. “I ain’t gonna let you walk away next time, boy. That understood?”

He nodded. “Un—Understood.”

“Good.” Joel released him, stepping backwards as he fell to the ground. “Get the fuck outta my face. Now.”

Kent managed to scramble to his feet and staggered off, disappearing from the alley. 

Chest heaving, Joel inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled it through his mouth before turning to you once more. 

Petrified, you still hadn’t moved a single muscle.

You looked fucking terrified. Whether it was from Kent’s assault or the way Joel had nearly beaten him to death right in front of you, it was hard to tell.

Crouching down beside you, Joel caught your subtle flinch. He proceeded to move slowly as he reached for the hem of your skirt. Delicately, he gripped the soft, flowing fabric and pulled it down into place. Joel then held his hand out to you. 

You hesitated for a split second, but accepted his hand and allowed him to help you up to your feet. 

“You alright, little dove?” The nickname had fallen from his lips before he could even think to stop it. 

“I think so,” you replied, nodding your head. You’d started to tremble and even though it had nothing to do with being cold, Joel took notice of it and he shrugged out of his camel colored jacket. He gave it to you, draping it over your shoulders. The scent of him instantly enveloped you—a mouth watering masculine mixture of clean soap, woodiness, and musk. It was far more intoxicating than the scotch you had tried back inside the bar. He didn’t utter a word to you as he wrapped his jacket around your body, both of his hands pulling gently at the lapels to bring them together in front of your chest. That was when you glanced down and saw he’d injured his hand. You gasped lightly. “Are you okay?”

Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Joel hadn’t even noticed that he’d split his knuckles wide open. Giving it a light shake, he assured you gruffly, “M’fine.”

Without thinking it through, you gingerly grabbed Joel’s hand, holding it in both of yours. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” you countered. You inspected it as best as you could in such poor lighting. “You’re bleeding.”

“Trust me, I’ve had a whole lot worse,” he deadpanned.

Ignoring his remark, you asked, “Can you move all your fingers for me? Just to make sure that it isn’t broken?”

Joel felt a strange warmth radiate in his chest. 

Fucking hell, Tommy had been right about you. 

You really were too good.

“Darlin’ I already told you m’fine—”

“Please?”

That word, and the way you’d said it, sent a shiver up the length of his spine.

Joel started wiggling his fingers in your palms. He winced slightly at the soreness. More than that, he knew his cuts and bruises would be all the fucking proof Tommy and Maria would need to know that he had been the one who rearranged Kent’s face. 

“See?” He spoke after a minute as he continued to move his fingers up and down. “Ain’t broken.”

“Let me clean you up,” you offered. Looking up at him, you cradled his hand as if it were a fragile baby bird you wanted to take home and nurse back to health.

“That really ain’t necessary.”

“You just saved me from—it’s the least I can do for you,” you insisted. Seeing him open his mouth just to protest again, you cut him off. “Please?”

There it was again.

Christ. That word sounded too good coming from those plush, pretty lips of yours. 

Joel sighed out in defeat. “Alright then,” he relented. “I s’ppose there ain’t no harm in lettin’ you clean me up a bit, little dove.”

Pleased that he had finally accepted, you carefully let go of his hand and took a step back, beckoning for him to follow you. “Come with me,” you said to him. “I know somewhere private we can go.”

When you came to a stop at the old church house, Joel shook his head and took a step backwards. 

Puzzled, your brows knitted together. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

He backed away further. “I ain’t goin’ in there.” 

You tossed him an amused glance. “It’s a church.”

“Yeah, I know that. I ain’t exactly a man of God.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle. “So? What does that have to do with me taking you inside to clean your hand up for you?”

Shuffling his weight from boot to boot, Joel shrugged. “Just don’t think I belong in there, that’s all.”

“Do you think you’re going to melt if you step foot inside?” you teased him. After a minute, it became apparent that he was being serious about it. Joel’s discomfort about going inside the church wasn’t some kind of joke on his part, it was real. “Don’t be silly. It doesn’t matter that you’re not a man of God. That doesn’t mean that you’re going to explode or burn into a pile of ashes for going inside, you know.”

“After all the terrible shit I’ve done?” He looked up at the building, shaking his head again. “I just might burn, little dove.”

You bit back a small smile. You’d already grown to be quite fond of his sweet nickname for you. 

“There’s a first aid kit inside I can use to patch you up,” you told him. “It won’t take long, I promise.”

His lower lip rolled in between teeth as he thought it over. “I ain’t too sure about this—”

“It’s only going to take me five minutes to get your hand cleaned up and then you can leave. Okay?”

You were as stubborn as you were sweet. How the fuck was he supposed to say no to you?

Reluctantly, Joel finally agreed to it. “Okay.” He followed you up the creaking, wooden porch steps towards the double doors. He’d just started to wonder how the two of you were even supposed to get into the building after hours when you leaned down, lifting the old mat on the floor to reveal a set of keys. Unable to help himself, he scoffed, “Serious?”

“Doesn’t everyone keep a key under their mat?” 

“Yeah at their fuckin’ house. Not their church.” 

“Well to be fair, this is kind of like a second home. I spend quite a bit of time here,” you confessed.

Joel raised an eyebrow at you. “So much time that you’ve decided to keep a set of keys under the mat?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. “Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night, I’ll come here alone and sit with my thoughts for a while.” You shrugged. “Maria let me have the spare set of keys. She knows I come here and so does the rest of the council. I trespass with their full permission,” you kidded with a small grin. 

Unlocking one of the two doors, you stepped over the threshold and waited expectantly for Joel. But he stood there, making no move to join you on the other side. 

“This place gives me the fuckin’ creeps,” he admitted. 

You laughed. “It’s only the outside that’s creepy, I promise.”

Grimacing, Joel finally walked inside, his back and shoulders stiff with tension as he stepped into the place of worship. 

You closed the door and flipped on the lights, then opened a second set of double doors with another key from the ring. 

“Whoa.” He was pleasantly surprised. For as old as this place was, the interior of the church was quite nice. He could tell that it had been well cared for in its lifetime—the former contractor in him had little choice but to appreciate the high ceiling, the large windows, and the satin finish of the white paint on the rustic, wooden panel walls. 

There were a total of twelve pews, six on each side of the church. There was an older, antique piano in pristine condition nestled over in one corner of the room and in another, there was a large chalkboard propped up on a wooden easel, biblical verses that had been the focus of the congregation’s previous gathering still scribbled across it in white chalk. 

“See?” You nudged his arm with your elbow. “This isn’t so awful, right?”

“S’ppose it ain’t all that bad,” he muttered. 

Your eyes twinkled with pure amusement, adding, “And you didn’t burn into a pile of ashes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel grumbled out in response. “Can we just get this over with so I can get outta here?”

You tossed him a playful little eye roll then nodded towards the pews. “Go ahead and just have a seat anywhere,” you instructed him. “I’ll be right back.”

You disappeared down a short, dimly lit corridor.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel slowly made his way down the aisle holding his injured hand against his chest. Now that the adrenaline had started wearing off, it’d started throbbing with pain.

There was an altar at the front of the church—if he could even call it an altar. 

It was a plain oakwood table with a white fair linen cloth draped over it and nothing else. 

Above it, bolted onto the wall, was a wooden cross.

He averted his eyes, turning away from it. 

Of all the shit to be intimidated by in this world. 

A fucking slab of carved wood. 

Joel’s attention shifted over to the chalkboard. He squinted at it, silently reading the verse to himself.

God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability. 1 Corinthians 10:13

“But with the temptation, he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it,” you recited the rest of the verse from behind him.

“No offense darlin’, but it sounds like nothin’ but a whole lotta gibberish to me,” he remarked to you over his shoulder. 

“No offense taken, Joel.”

Whirling around on the heel of his worn boot, Joel blurted, “How did you know my name?”

“You’re Tommy Miller’s brother. Everybody in this town knows your name.” You held up the white tin box in your hands. A big, red cross had been spray painted onto the lid. You sat down in the first pew and patted the seat right beside you. “Come sit.”

He sauntered over and dropped down next to you, watching as you opened up the box and started digging through its contents. “You know my name,” he stated after a few seconds of silence. “Sure would be nice for me to know yours.”

Smiling politely, you told him your name.

Joel repeated it. It rolled almost too sweetly off his tongue.

“S’real pretty, little dove. Just like you.”

His compliment nearly knocked all of the air out of your lungs and for a split second, you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Cheeks burning, you murmured a small thank you and plucked a bottle of saline solution from the kit along with a piece of clean cotton. You tried not to think about the way his eyes were fixed intently on you as you unscrewed the cap and poured a bit of the liquid onto the cotton. “It shouldn’t sting,” you reassured him, reaching for Joel’s injured hand. It was rough and calloused, a stark contrast against your own soft and smooth. You set his hand down on your knee, a strange sensation fluttering in the depths of your lower belly when the warmth of his skin seeped right through the fabric of your skirt. 

Comfortable silence fell over the both of you like a curtain as you started cleaning the blood off of his knuckles and his long, thick fingers. 

“You really believe in all this stuff?” Joel spoke, his question echoing off the bare walls of the church. 

You continued dabbing at his cuts, thinking it over in your head for a moment.

“I honestly don’t know,” you admitted.

Your answer took him by complete surprise.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I have always been taught to believe in God, Joel. It’s all that I’ve ever known. I grew up in a religious community,” you explained to him, making sure to keep your eyes focused on his hand. Tossing aside the bloodied wad of cotton, you picked up another piece adding more saline to it. “After the outbreak, things changed, of course. I couldn’t imagine how He could let something like this happen. When we lost our mother to infection about five years ago, I stopped praying. I finally stopped holding onto the ounce of hope I had that He would make the world right again. I refused to believe in God. Sometimes I still do,” you confessed quietly.

“You said you spend a lot of time here. Why come to church if you’re not even sure you believe in any of this shit anymore?”

“I’m always here because there’s still a part of me that thinks there’s a chance for me to believe again. When I told you I come here when I can’t sleep at night, it’s true. It’s my time to be here completely alone, the time that I use to mend my broken relationship with God. Or at least, I’ve been trying to mend it.” Taking a little glass pot of homemade antibiotic ointment one of the women in the town made and traded, you took off the lid and scooped out some of the salve with the tip of your finger. You applied it carefully to his cuts and continued, “But lately, the more that I try to pray and talk to Him, the more foolish I feel. It’s just not working. It hasn’t been working for a long, long time.”

“Then why keep tryin’ if it ain’t workin’ anymore?”

“Because I don’t really have much of a choice.”

“Your old man?” Joel guessed, wincing slightly as you went over a particularly sore spot on his hand, right over the torn up knuckle of his index finger. 

“Mhm.” You nodded. “My father never lost faith in Him. He knows how I feel, but he refuses to let me give up on God. He won’t ever let me miss church or go to bed without reciting my nightly prayer. He won’t let me abandon our faith. Not until the day he is cold and buried in his grave.”

“So what I’m gettin’ is that he forces you?”

You finished applying the ointment and wiped the remnants lingering on your finger off on your skirt.

“Force is such a harsh word. I wouldn’t say that—”

“He’s forcin’ you,” Joel said, flatly. 

“Joel—”

“You can twist it however the hell you want, sweet girl,” he cut you off. “But if you’re tryin’ this fuckin’ hard to make yourself believe in somethin’ just for the sake of appeasin’ your dad because he can’t or won’t accept how you really feel ‘bout all this, well I hate to break it to you, but you’re bein’ forced.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly at his words. 

You had never thought about it like that before.

Placing the lid back onto the pot of ointment, you put it back into the first aid kit and then set the tin box down onto the floor. You sat back and clasped your hands together in your lap, not knowing what else to say to him. 

He was right, after all. 

Joel’s fingers lightly squeezed your knee. “Hey.”

You brought your gaze over to meet his. “Hm?”

“Can I ask you somethin’ ‘bout your dad?”

“What is it?” 

Joel chose his words carefully. “Has he ever—he ain’t ever done anythin’ to hurt you, has he?” he asked you, earning himself a perplexed stare. He continued to elaborate. “What I mean is, he ever put his hands on you or anythin’ like that?”

Oh. That’s what he meant.

“Never,” you assured him quickly. “He would never lay a single finger on me or my two sisters.”

He gave your knee another squeeze. “Just needed to make sure of it, sweetheart. Back in the day, I used to hear and see awful things on the news ‘bout—”

You were quick to cut him off. “Look, my father isn’t perfect, but he’s not like that. He’s a good man who only wants what is best for us. He’s strict and he can be tough, but it’s only because he cares. He just doesn’t want us running down the wrong path.”

“The wrong path?”

You shrugged. “Life here in Jackson is decent, but there’s a lot of temptations he doesn’t want any of us falling into. He wants to protect us.”

“By controllin’ you.” 

It had been a statement, not a question. 

Giving him a wry smile, you assured him, “Joel, it’s really not as bad as you’re making it sound. I could be a whole lot worse off than this, you know.”

There was another short bout of silence.

Joel’s dark eyes fell to your blouse, noticing how a couple of the top buttons had come undone. 

He caught the slightest glimpse of the soft curves of your breasts—all it had taken was just a peek at them for his cock to twitch against the zipper of his jeans.

Don’t you get hard in a fuckin’ church, Miller.

His gaze wandered down a little further and that’s when he caught sight of the cross hanging from a delicate gold chain clasped around your neck.

Joel expected the sight of it to calm the straining in his jeans. Somehow, it only made it worse. 

“Earlier, when we were standing outside,” you had started to say, “You said you might burn if you came inside the church because of all the terrible shi—things that you’ve done.”

“S’right.”

You peered at him with curiosity. “So what exactly have you done, Joel?”

Joel leaned back into the pew, shaking his head at you as he finally pulled his hand from your knee. 

“You really don’t wanna know, little dove.”

“Why not?”

His answer was honest.  “Don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Angling your body towards him, you placed one of your hands on his thigh. Your fingers burned right through the dark blue denim of his jeans.

Joel’s lips parted slightly, taken aback by the bold move and the sudden shift in your demeanor.

Were you the same girl who’d nearly had a fucking heart attack a couple of weeks ago when Joel had nodded at you back at the stables? 

“I’m not scared of you,” you murmured, softly. You gave his leg a squeeze, pulling your plump bottom lip between your teeth. Between that and the wide innocent doe eyes that you were giving him, it was taking every last ounce of strength Joel had inside him to keep a straight face, to pretend you weren’t driving him absolutely wild with desire.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt such an incredible need to have someone. 

Want, sure. 

He had wanted Tess. He had wanted Esther. 

But Joel didn’t just want you. 

He fucking needed you. 

And he didn’t know why.

“I’m not scared of you,” you repeated, trailing your hand further up his thigh, setting a fire neither one of you would soon be able to contain. 

Joel leaned forward, bringing his face dangerously close towards yours. His warm breath fanned over your lips. It was still laced with bourbon. “You sure ‘bout that, darlin’ girl?” 

You tried to answer him in the steadiest voice that you could muster, but it was impossible for you to hide the effect this man had on you. 

You breathed out a shaky, “I’m sure.”

Lifting his uninjured hand, he reached up to tuck a loose lock of hair that had fallen out of your braids behind your ear. As his hand fell away, the palm of it grazed against the silkiness of your cheek. 

Though brief, the contact sent an electric current through each and every last single nerve ending in your entire body. 

Exhaling sharply, your eyelids fluttered closed. You nearly whimpered out his name. “Joel?”

“What is it, babygirl? What do you want?”

“I—I want you to kiss me.” 

Joel leaned in even closer, stopping only when his mouth was less than an inch away from yours. 

You heard him chuckle softly. 

“Y’know, I’d expect better manners from a good girl like you,” he tsked lightly, his nose skimming near the corner of your mouth. Closer. “What’s the magic word, little dove?”

“Please.”

“S’much better.”

Your heart pounded with anticipation.

It was almost too much for you to handle. 

Joel closed the remaining gap of space, capturing your lips with his own. He remembered his brother talking about you at the bar—how he had told Joel that you had never even held a man’s hand before.

It occurred to him that he was giving you your first kiss. Him. Joel Miller. The town’s resident asshole and a man who was well over twice your own age. He was the one giving you your very first kiss. 

The guilt suddenly started to creep in, sinking into his bones.

What the fuck had he been thinking? 

And what about you? 

Where the fuck had your common sense gone?

Probably ran off together with Joel’s.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling away slightly in an attempt to stop it from going any further. He tried again, mumbling against your lips, “We gotta stop. This ain’t right—”

You were having none of it. 

None. 

Clutching fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt, you swung your leg over his thighs and straddled his lap. Your knees rested on either side of him on the bench. 

“Please,” you nearly pleaded. “Just kiss me. I want it—I want this. I promise you that I do.” You placed both of your hands on his broad shoulders, sliding them around him as you slowly sank down further onto his lap. “I want this, Joel.”

Suddenly, he realized that you were asking him for more than just his kiss. 

Now he knew for sure that all common sense had left that pretty little head of yours. 

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

Desperate, you uttered one final, “Please.”

Joel bit back a groan. How could he deny you? 

He couldn’t. Simple as that. 

“You sure ‘bout this?”

Your fingers toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“C’mere then, darlin’ girl.”

Joel cupped the side of your face in his large palm and tilted his head up towards yours. Your mouths fused together and although he tried to be gentle, it was proving to be much too difficult—how could he be gentle when you were practically clinging to him? Holding onto him with fervor as if you’d been holding onto dear fucking life itself? 

Temperatures rising, you quickly shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with a soft thud before wrapping your arms around him once again. You melted against him as your mouth molded to his in a perfect fit. 

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore the cavern even further. 

Eagerly, your lips parted, granting him access. His tongue slipped past them, meeting yours in a slow and sensual heated dance. 

You breathed him deeply into your lungs, a little moan vibrating at the back of your throat. 

Joel’s hands went to your waist and he yanked the hem of your blouse free from your skirt. 

“Can I feel you, baby?” he asked, breathlessly. His mouth abandoned yours and he began to trail hot, open mouthed kisses underneath your jawline. 

Dazed, all you could do was nod in reply and utter, “Mhm.”

Joel’s hands slipped under your blouse and he slid them up the length of your sides. “Fuck, you gotta be the softest fuckin’ thing,” he cursed against the delicate, tender flesh of your neck. His lips latched onto your pulse point, suckling at the skin there as his fingertips dug into your hips. He needed to feel more, but he forced himself to wait. The last thing he wanted to do was make a wrong move or move too fast and scare you off.

“Joel,” you mewled his name. “Joel, I need—”

You trailed off, moaning when his mouth released your skin with a loud, wet popping noise. 

“Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you,” he promised. “Anythin’ you need or want, I’ll give it to you. Just say the fuckin’ word.”

“You, Joel. I need you.”

His hips involuntarily bucked upwards and you let out a startled gasp the moment you felt his bulge, hard as a rock, brush against your clothed cunt. 

Tearing away from him, it suddenly hit you. You’re in a church, straddling a much, much older man in a pew—and if that wasn’t sinful enough, the warm and slick arousal pooling between your thighs only proved that you were ready to fall into temptation, give into the lust and give your body to Joel. But it was none of those things that worried you. It was something else. 

You pulled yourself out of his arms and jumped up off his lap, nearly tripping over your own two feet.

“Darlin’ are you—?”

You didn’t even hear the rest of his question.

Knees trembling, you somehow managed to make your way up to the altar. Heart pounding and head spinning, you planted both of your hands firmly on the table and steadied yourself. Part of you hoped that Joel would just get up and leave. But a bigger part of you hoped he wouldn’t. 

Joel rose to his feet. “Listen, ain’t nothin’ wrong if you changed your mind, alright?”

“I didn’t,” you choked out. “That’s—that’s not it at all.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

Embarrassed, you tried to explain yourself. “I have never done anything like this before. I’m a—”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word out loud. 

“You’re a what?”

Blazing heat flooded your face. “Joel, please don’t make me say it,” you groaned. “For the sake of my sanity, don’t make me say it.” You heard the sound of his brown leather boots as he walked up behind you, one heavy footstep after the other.

“Turn around, sweet girl.” 

Joel’s command was firm but still gentle. 

Swallowing dryly, you obeyed and did as you were told. He stood close and you found yourself at eye level with his chest. 

“Look at me.”

You tried, but couldn’t. 

“I said, look at me.” Joel gingerly took your chin in between his thumb and index finger. He lifted your face, forcing your gaze to meet his own, timid and submissive meeting bold and dominant in a sweet and tender exchange. “Never known the lovin’ of a man, have you little dove?”

He backed you up against the table, pinning you in between it and himself. Planting both of his hands on either side of you, he caged you in and brought his chest flush against yours, pressing your bodies together.

Close, but somehow not close enough.

Joel lifted his hand to your cheek, cradling it in his palm. His thumb swept over your quivering bottom lip.

You reached behind you, clutching at the fair linen as you tried with every fiber of your entire being to remind yourself that you were standing at the altar where your father preached and delivered all of his sermons to the faithful people of Jackson. 

The very same altar where your father encouraged you to kneel and pray in effort to mend the broken relationship you had with God. 

You couldn’t help but to think if you were to get on your knees tonight, it wouldn’t be for prayer.

“I asked you a question, darlin’.” Joel’s voice broke into your train of thought. “Need you to be a good girl and give me an answer, alright?”

“My father loves me,” you stammered out in reply. “He loves me and my sisters—”

“C’mon, babygirl.” He chuckled and shook his head at you, lightly pinching your cheek. “That ain’t what I mean and you damn well know it.”

Sighing softly, you finally answered, “No, Joel.”

“No, what?”

“No, I’ve never known the loving of a man.”

Joel slipped the tip of his thumb between your lips and leaned into you, his hardness pressing against your upper thigh. Even through all the clothes, you could feel every inch of him. “Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? What it feels like when a man makes you his own?” 

You nearly moaned around his finger. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he prompted, pulling his hand away.

“Yes, please.”

“I can show you.” Joel paused. “But not tonight.”

You stared at him in disbelief. Both of you were so clearly riled up and he was going to take a pass?

He almost laughed at your expression. 

“C’mon, don’t give me that face.”

“But Joel—”

“Just don’t wanna rush it, not with you,” Joel said in a tone so soft it nearly threw you for a loop. “M’gonna need you to be real patient for me, just for a little while, alright? You think you can do that, little dove? Think you can be patient for me?”

Your answer came without an ounce of hesitation.

“Of course,” you breathed.

You would wait an eternity for Joel Miller.

[ikeuverse]

new beginnings | lhs

pairing: dad!heeseung x fem!reader  genres: fluff, humor, a pinch of angst wc: 8.7k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ :  mention of unwanted pregnancy, turbulent relationship, drinking, some swearing. let me know if i've forgotten anything too.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : i think this turned out a lot cuter than i intended. initially it was going to be very short, but i wanted to add a bit of plot and maybe add a one chapter or two to it to give more attention to yn with the little one and the development of her relationship with heeseung. i hope you like it!

꒰ 𝅄 part 2 | masterlist ꒱

Studying abroad for your university degree was a dream. Spending two years in Barcelona seemed like such a distant dream, but in the blink of an eye, you were already on Spanish soil. And as if that were fast enough, those years passed so quickly that before you knew it, you were back in the apartment you shared with your younger brother.

Sighing, you threw yourself on the sofa and let the tiredness of the trip take over. Smelling the familiar scent of Jay's cologne that hadn't completely disappeared.

Being back was incredible. Now, finally, you could work in your field and be close to your family too. It hadn't been that long, but you still felt sad not just because you missed them, but because you had missed important moments with each of your family members.

Like, for example, when your parents bought their dream house. Lots of rooms to welcome their children and anyone else who wanted to sleep over. A backyard so big that it had room for your father's gardening, a swimming pool, and a small hut where your mother made a studio for whatever artistic thing she was obsessed with at the moment.

You also missed out when Jay started dating her in his final year at university. The girl was simply incredible and you got to know her over a video call, but it still wasn't the same. It was different from his older sister's attitude – even if it was a year apart – where his girlfriend would come over to your parent's house, you'd make a huge fuss and a fake scene of jealousy.

Not that you weren't jealous of Jay, but Heejin was so sweet and loving that all you could do was sigh and smile at her as she introduced herself on her cell phone screen and told you that she was looking forward to meeting you in person.

And Heejin threw such a big party as soon as you arrived. She was in charge of making the snacks and taking them to your mother's house, telling you so much about her that you were dizzy, smiling from ear to ear at the girl's excitement. Jay watched in the background, laughing now and then when you looked at him, silently congratulating you on having found someone as nice as her.

"Do you like chicken? I learned how to make this chicken paste last week and Jay loved it, I think you'll like it too" she said shyly, handing over one of the snacks she'd brought.

And she got it right. You loved it so much that you even asked Heejin to make it the next time you two met. Which never took long because she was always at her apartment with Jay or her parents' house.

It seemed that as well as being a sister-in-law, you had found a very good friend.

"I'm home" Jay announced loudly as soon as he walked through the living room door, making you abandon your thoughts completely as you jumped onto the sofa "Did I scare you?" he laughed as he looked at you, messing up your hair before walking past you and straight into the kitchen.

You stood up, walked over to where he was, and leaned against the doorframe to watch your brother get a bottle of water from the fridge.

"So" Jay turned to you, his breathing a little labored and you noticed that he was completely sweaty "I came running because it's going to rain, don't think nonsense" he warned you, noticing that your expression began to change as soon as you saw his state.

Your laughter filled the kitchen along with Jay's, and he walked over to the worktop and sat down on it.

"I didn't think anything" you held up your hands to defend yourself, biting your lower lip to hold back another laugh "I got home from mom's a while ago, I was lying there thinking about so many things."

"About what, for example?" Jay came around the counter and sat on the stool behind you. This forced you to get down and turn around to face him, watching your brother still enjoying his cold bottle of water.

"About how, even though I love Barcelona, I've missed out on a lot with you all here."

"Come on, y/n. We've already had this conversation" Jay warned.

And it was true. He knew how much you wanted to complete your fashion course abroad, but at the same time, you didn't want to leave your parents. Jay chose to stay, earning well-deserved recognition at the gastronomy school in the city itself while supporting you every second.

"I know, but I can't get this weight off of me" you pursed your lips, forming a pout that he grimaced at.

"How about we go out so you can forget about it?" Jay proposed, seeing you try to hide a smile as he leaned over the counter and took your hand "Come on, I still have some friends you know who are dying to meet you again."

"Who, for example?" you asked.

Jay seemed to think for a moment, remembering all the people from his college that you knew. Even though you only studied with Jay for a short time, it wasn't enough to get to know all his friends or maintain a lasting friendship with them. Since your brother was well known, you were afraid that he would approach you just to get to him.

"Sailor will be there" Jay shrugged, knowing that she was the first girl you'd made friends with on the design course, "and that insufferable Jake."

"Oh, my little brother will be there?" you smiled dreamily, seeing Jay roll his eyes.

"Little brother? That son of a bitch is just my childhood best friend, not your little brother, y/n."

You laughed so loudly that you saw Jay shrug his shoulders as he did so. Going around the counter, you hugged your brother and laid your head on his shoulder, sighing a little lighter after talking to Jay. It always calmed you down.

"I'm going to love hanging out with them, and especially with you."

Jay kissed the top of your head and you could feel him smile with his lips up there after he returned your embrace. His fingers were cold from the bottle he was holding, now gripping your body as he got up from the bench to stand next to you.

"So get ready, because we have this program every Friday. And you're part of it from now on" he said, pulling away from you and telling you that he was going to take a shower because it was too sticky.

You just agreed, thinking of preparing something to eat with your brother after he got out of the shower. And you started to get a little more excited until Friday arrived to meet up with some friends again, and finally go out with your brother after so long.

"Why do you spray so much perfume?" you almost shouted from your room as Jay passed you in the hallway of the apartment, stopping walking and heading straight for your door.

"I sprayed it a couple of times" he said "Okay, four" he corrected after noticing your serious countenance looking at him "I get nervous every time I go to meet Heejin, so…"

"That's cute" your lip formed into a pout, beckoning him into your room while you finished getting ready "But I don't think she'll care how smelly you are or not. Considering we're going to a nightclub."

"You're right" Jay tried to relax, throwing himself onto your bed in a lazy way. "It's just that I never stop thinking about how much I can impress her since we started dating, you know? It's so different."

"How different?"

Having these conversations with Jay was something you loved, mainly because it felt like he was older and not you. So listening to him ramble on about something or even vent about anything made the two of you feel even closer to each other.

Hearing how in love your brother was made you so happy and smiley, even more so because every time he mentioned Heejin, or even you said her name or said you were talking to her, Jay sighed. A complete fool in love, you joked.

He never denied it because he really was. And it was clear every time you saw the two of them together since you arrived. Holding hands, caresses and hugs, declarations and compliments. Something so loving that there wasn't even room to tease your brother about how sweet he was being.

"We can go now" you said after a while when Jay again told you how he felt about Heejin. And how he was afraid of losing her.

Your role as older sister was to make sure that your younger brother was doing a great job and that he was an amazing guy. Not to mention that the two of them got along very well and had your approval, so that was enough.

Jay left that apartment so happy that he was smiling to the parking lot, then with you to the club to meet the rest of his friends. He didn't even notice the smile, only when he arrived and felt his jaw aching after talking to you so much.

"Hold my hand so you don't get lost until we find the guys, okay?" you just agreed as you headed for the entrance to the club and Jay gave you the names for access.

Entering the venue, you and your brother had to dodge a few – a lot – of people dancing back and forth, others trying to make conversation with both you and him, but backing away when they saw you holding hands. You caught a scream in your throat and then laughed along with him, people probably thought you and Jay were a couple because you were holding hands. Ew.

"Finally!" the voice shouted from ahead and you looked over Jay's shoulder.

With his free hand, your brother nodded and then continued to approach until you were close enough to let go of your hand.

"I thought you weren't coming" Jake ruffled Jay's hair as he approached the group, hearing the boy's curses before turning his eyes to you "Little sister!"

"Little brother!" you replied with the same excitement, only for both of you to tease Jay, who was cursing at both of you. Jake was quick to run towards you and hug you.

"Don't ever travel that long again, I've missed you so much" he whispered while still hugging you.

"I promise I'll take you with me next time" his smile widened so much that you swore his cheeks were sore from smiling so much.

Saying hello to Sailor, your only friend from university, was something you were looking forward to. She had been one of the only people at the beginning of your school year before you moved to another country, who came to talk to you without any interest in your brother. Sailor was so nice, communicative, and giggly. The two of you got on so well that even when you moved to Barcelona, contact wasn't lost. Your happiness was undeniable when Jay told you that she was still in the group of friends, now as Jake's girlfriend.

Sunghoon was another friend of the boys that you got to know as well, arriving close to high school where he was drafted onto the soccer team that Jay and Jake played on. Of course, the three of them would become friends. He introduced you to his girlfriend. Joan, it wasn't someone you knew, but she seemed nice because she complimented you a lot and even asked how you were able to put up with a bunch of boys without slapping any of them.

Maybe I slapped you here or there, but I swear I could have done more. Joan's laugh was cute, and Sunghoon's small eyes when he smiled as he listened indicated that this man had been completely snared.

"Hi, y/n. I'm so glad you came" Heejin, your sister-in-law. So beautiful, with a comforting hug and very caring. You remember that, ever since you arrived, she asked Jay if you were all right every day.

"I guess you'll all have to get used to someone else in the group" you told her as you hugged her, tightening your arms around Heejin. She kissed your cheek and then pulled away from your face a little.

"Oh, this is going to be amazing. This way my brother won't feel so lonely" she whispered because she was too close to your face, so her voice wouldn't be hard to hear. You frowned at that, what do you mean her brother?

You hadn't paid attention to the people around you unless they came to greet you. Or you hadn't taken the time to notice who was with your group until your eyes shifted from Heejin's face to focus on the male figure next to the three boys.

Of course, you'd heard about Heejin's brother and even seen some pictures of him with Jay on social media. But you were so focused on your studies or even on finding out how your brother was doing that you didn't even have the luxury – or the time – to go and find out who Jay's new friends were, apart from the ones you already knew.

Heejin gradually moved away from you and, at the same moment, the only boy who hadn't said hello was waving to the boys and heading towards you and your sister-in-law. He couldn't take his eyes off you and you couldn't take your eyes off him, it was as if neither of you wanted to miss each other's next move.

"Hi" what a voice that is, my God. You wanted to shout to yourself "I'm Heeseung."

Heeseung, of course. The name wasn't strange. Considering how many stories Jay posted with Heeseung, who was always at parties with your brother.

"Hi, I'm y/n" even if he knew her name, it wouldn't hurt to introduce yourself, right?

By now Heejin had already stepped aside and let you talk to Heeseung, but you hadn't even bothered.

"Now I have someone to keep me company," Heeseung smiled and you swore you let out a loud sigh, but because of the volume of the music he hadn't heard. Good!

"Why? Are they that bad?" you asked Heeseung.

He leaned a little towards you, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans as he shrugged in the process. Heeseung's breath smelled of strawberries, so maybe he'd had a drink before you arrived.

"Wait until everyone's drunk" he whispered, "You can bet on which couple gets the hottest out of all of them."

"Can we bet money? Me and you?" your eyes lit up at the word bet, looking like a child who had just heard the most magnificent thing in the world.

Heeseung wanted to ignore the way he was smiling so much, feeling his heart skip a beat with your smile and your gaze so close to him. Even though he had leaned towards you just to talk. He wanted to think so, after all, you were all out clubbing, and if he wanted to have a conversation with you, he'd have to get closer.

And because you were so beautiful and smelled so good, he was simply attracted.

"I didn't bring that much money today" Heeseung pursed his lips "But we can bet drinks at the bar, what do you say?"

"Will you buy me one?"

"Now? Of course" of course, he had to stop this "I need to show you the best drink in this place before you get hooked."

"Do the honors, then" you smiled back at him, almost shouting when Heeseung's hand gently touched your back. Even though no skin was exposed because your shirt covered most of it, his fingers seemed to have shocked the spot.

Heeseung felt a warmth emanating from his fingertips and wondered if he had overstepped any boundaries since he had touched – even on your back – without your permission. But as soon as you started walking, being guided by him, the boy saw no problem in following you with his hand still touching you.

"Hey, Mingi" Heeseung waved to the bartender as soon as you and he arrived at the bar. From the intimacy, the place seemed to be frequented quite often by him and your brother's friends. The man behind the bar waved cheerfully.

"The usual?"

"Actually, I'll have a Rum Punch" Heeseung's slurred accent almost made you sigh again, but you held back only because he held your gaze even though he was talking to the bartender in front of you "For this young lady here."

"Oh, new here?" Mingi began to prepare the drink, showing off his skills with the utensils and how to stir that metal glass that you didn't even know didn't spill a drop.

"I've been away for two years" your voice came out a little louder than you would have liked, but Mingi smiled and shook his head "I'm Jay's sister."

"No kidding!" he seemed shocked by the information and you almost asked if it was bad to be Jay's sister or something "Jongseong, that ugly guy, has such a beautiful sister?"

Shit, your cheeks started to heat up. But you couldn't tell if it was because of Mingi's compliment or because Heeseung's hand slid from your back to your waist. He was still touching you, and it didn't seem to bother him or you.

"Here, Miss Park" he smiled after placing the glass on the counter, "enjoy the best of our bar."

You thanked him and took the glass, turning to face Heeseung.

"I hope you like it because, honestly, it would suck to say this is the best drink and have you hate it" he pressed his lips together, looking a little apprehensive about your reaction. You laughed at how cute he looked, agreeing with a little nod.

Touching your lips to the glass, you took a small sip just to test it out. As Heeseung said, it would be a shame for you to hate something that he advertised so much. But no, you loved it! And your murmur of approval only made his smile grow even wider, so you took another long sip before offering it to him.

"Come on, have some since you introduced me to it" you smiled at him as you tilted the glass for Heeseung to take. But he seemed too busy still holding your waist, with both hands this time. One on either side of you, making you want to scream and at the same time take a step forward and stand so close to him.

That drink wasn't taking effect that quickly, but it was Heeseung's fingers on your body that were making you like this.

So you held your breath a little when he leaned over, touching his lips to the glass and looking at you. A silent request for you to turn the contents just right because he wanted to drink from your hand. Heeseung wanted you to give him the drink.

And you did.

You carefully turned that glass until he had a good sip and then turned away to wipe his lips with the tip of his tongue and moan in satisfaction at the liquid going down his throat.

"Like I said, y/n" he said, his eyes wandering around the club and then finding you again. Heeseung leaned close enough so that his face was close to yours – for the second time that night – and his gaze quickly fell to your mouth "This is the best drink in the bar, and the night is going to be so long that we can try as many as you want" why had he whispered that part? Why was Heeseung whispering while staring at your lips?

You just nodded, sipping some more of that good, newfound liquid, as you felt him pull you into the middle of the dance floor.

The boy was right, it was going to be a long night.

You didn't know that your sister-in-law was a graduate in the same field as you at university in Barcelona. You also didn't know that you would receive an offer from the studio where she worked and, a few days later, be hired.

You also didn't know that your relationship with Heeseung had become pure flirtation, smiles in each other's direction and gentle touches on the hands, waist, and even long hugs when he went to pick up Heejin and ended up giving you a lift too. Or when he went to visit Jay to play video games in his living room. You also didn't know that you would let Heeseung lean his head on your shoulder and fall asleep so deeply on the first night of movies in your shared apartment with your brother after Sunghoon said he didn't want to go clubbing that day.

Everything was going so differently from what you had envisioned for your return to the city, but no way could describe the way you felt with Heeseung. Because it was different, wasn't it? You felt that way.

Because you didn't feel a chill in your stomach when Jake laid his head on your lap after coming home from work, or you didn't feel your face heat up after Sunghoon kissed the top of your head when you all decided to meet up for dinner. So why did you feel those things with Heeseung? He also lay on your lap, he also kissed the top of your head. But only he was able to take away your sleep some nights, resulting in you being almost late for work and hearing Heejin ask if everything was okay.

"Jongseong was playing late again?" she asked angrily, making you laugh.

Thinking about your brother, you wanted to answer but settled for pressing your lips together to avoid smiling.

"I've just had a bad night" your lips quickly curled into a pout and she imitated you.

"I know someone who can help you with that" Heejin hummed, picking up her cell phone and typing a few things as she watched you go to your desk.

Trying to stop her from talking to Heeseung was practically impossible, as she and Jay did a great job of making you feel awkward in front of him. But not in a bad way, not at all. The two of them only managed to make you shyer and shyer every time something happened.

Do you need help with the popcorn in the kitchen? Heeseung, help y/n. I'm watching the movie with your sister.

Are you going out for dinner? Heeseung and y/n sit next to each other, their seats already assigned.

When you all decided to go to the amusement park together and he wasn't too keen on entering the castle of horrors? My sister will hold your hand and, if the fear goes away, you can kiss her as a reward. Jay's sentence could have been a whisper only to him and Heeseung, but because you were so close, it was sure to have been heard.

"Y/n, I… I'm sorry—" you took his hand, entwining your fingers in Heeseung's as you smiled at the boy.

"You heard my brother, right?" now Heeseung felt even more courageous with your words. So he could kiss you after everyone had passed through that castle of horrors? Surely he wouldn't miss it.

But he did.

As soon as you all left, Heeseung received a call that he urgently needed to go home. You didn't object and the others seemed to understand perfectly when the boy said goodbye, you being the only one who received a quick kiss on the cheek before he ran out of the park.

"I wonder what happened?" Sailor asked as you all started walking to the park's next attraction.

"Maybe it's because of Aimi, he said he'd be alert in case he needed to go home" Jake intertwined his fingers with Sailor's and walked beside her.

Just then, you stopped. Wait, Aimi? Heeseung had someone else? No, it couldn't be.

All that time you two were exchanging, you were being part of a betrayal? Holy shit. It couldn't be possible.

The whole situation put a lump in your throat and your stomach began to churn. You walked with your friends out of sheer habit, seeing that they were all in the queue for the rollercoaster. By instinct, Jay looked in your direction and saw how scattered you were, walking over to stand next to you.

"It's just a rollercoaster, you know? You don't have to be scared" he joked, laughing a little as he put his arm around your shoulders.

Trying to be gentle, you pushed his arm away, starting to feel a weight on your chest that you didn't even know existed.

"I… I'm going home" your voice came out shaky. Shit, don't do that, y/n!

"What? Y/n, is everything all right?" Jay looked at you now rather worriedly, holding you by the shoulders and, once again, feeling your hands drop as you walked away.

Your brain didn't process the fact that your legs were quickly pulling you out of there, walking away from the roller coaster queue while you listened to the boys calling you. You ignored it completely and walked to the parking lot where you tried to look for your brother's car since Heeseung had left and you had gone with him to the park.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit" the curses were starting to flood out of you as your eyes stung, but you weren't going to cry. Not because of that.

For God's sake, the two of you hadn't even kissed, why feel so stupid?

"Y/n, I found you!" Jay was panting behind you, having stopped running and feeling his heartbeat speed up even more from the little exercise he'd done to find you.

He then walked towards you very slowly, trying to catch his breath and testing whether he could do it since you had pushed him away twice in less than a minute.

"Hey, are you all right?" he asked "It was the rollercoaster game—"

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" you interrupted him.

Jay frowned in response, glancing at you as soon as you stopped right in front of him and caught a glimpse of your face in the dim light of the amusement park parking lot. He saw your watery eyes and knew you could cry at any moment.

"What about?" he asked you again, and you realized that it couldn't be that he knew either since, in your brother's mind, you were like that for the roller coaster. But wasn't it obvious that it was for Heeseung? It didn't make sense.

Your chest ached a little more when you remembered his static face when you left quickly and how your friends commented on the girl so naturally that it was as if you weren't there.

You opened and closed your mouth, tried to say something and nothing came out the way you wanted it to. It sucked that everything was like that. When you finally plucked up the courage to talk to your brother, your phone rang, startling you both.

The handset came out of your back pocket and Heeseung's name flashed up on the screen. You didn't realize the grimace you were making until you looked at Jay and saw that he was waiting for you to pick up, but you didn't. You simply hung up. You simply hung up.

"What's going on?" he kept looking at you.

"Nothing" another ring from Heeseung and you would have hung up if Jay hadn't been quicker and answered on the second ring.

"Hey dude, it's Jay" you could hear Heeseung's voice in the background, but you couldn't understand much of what he was saying. Something seemed to touch the back of your brother's mind because he laughed deeply as he looked at you.

What's funny, asshole? You hissed while he still had your phone to his ear and was talking to Heeseung.

"Maybe that's why, but I'm not the one who's going to explain it to her" your brother's gaze was mixed as Heeseung said a few more words and the two finally hung up.

"What the fuck was that, Jay?"

"Heeseung called me… I mean, he called you to explain why he'd left so quickly" he told you.

"I think Jake already did that" you shrugged, showing how encouraging the conversation was because your sarcastic smile said it all.

"Listen, sis. It's not that—"

"Jay, please don't" you whimpered "I'm feeling terrible because all this time no one told me that Heeseung had someone else and we were acting like…"

"A couple, I know" you really hated it when Jay was able to complete his sentences more directly because maybe you would only respond like two people with more touches "That's exactly why he needs to explain it to you, not me."

"I don't want to listen, thank you."

"But you kind of will" he pursed his lips and put his hands in his trouser pockets, running his tongue over lower lip to suppress a smile "Because every two weeks Heejin and I go to Mom's for lunch, and this time since you're here, I'm going to make a point of calling Heeseung too."

"You wouldn't do that…"

"Oh, I would" Jay smiled this time.

And you knew for sure that your dear brother would be able to do it.

You felt like jumping over the kitchen counter and lunging at Jay, but you were left to stir the chocolate in the pan to make a ganache for dessert. Your brother, smiling even too much, put the tomato slices in the glass dish while looking at you now and then and holding back a laugh.

"Cancel it with him, please" you almost cried, almost got down on your knees to Jay begging him not to come.

"Nope" he hummed, excitedly, "I like having my brother-in-law here. Besides, Mom loves it when he brings Aimi along."

"You're a motherfucker—"

"Hey, why am I being cursed at?" your mother chimed in. Jay burst into laughter and you just rolled your eyes, choosing to forget the conversation.

But your brother seemed to have plans to annoy you all weekend, and it was only Saturday. You wouldn't be able to stand it without hitting him once.

"I was telling y/n about Aimi" Jay said.

"Oh, I miss her so much" your mother said with such love that you rolled your eyes at the melted chocolate just so you wouldn't have to face the two of them who were heaping praise on Aimi.

For God's sake, did they have to do that in front of you? Maybe your mother didn't know what had happened between you and Heeseung, so the poor thing wouldn't be punished by your eyes almost shooting her. But your brother would. That asshole was going to pay dearly for every mention of Aimi's name and the way he openly smiled at you after saying it.

It didn't make sense for Jay to tease you about it, it didn't make sense for any of your friends to be into that sort of thing. Everyone there was dating, so why did things have to go that way with Heeseung?

Had Jay already cheated on Heejin, so he was an accomplice? Or had Jake and Sunghoon also been unfaithful, hence the partnership?

It wasn't easy to get into your head and you spent almost the whole week mulling it over, as well as running away from all Heejin's questions and why you were ignoring her brother.

"I just… I don't know, Heejin" you replied.

But she knew, of course, she knew. The only way to understand what was going on was to ask Jay, and like a good gossip, he would tell his girlfriend. Heejin even thought about clearing up the misunderstanding, but as her boyfriend had said, Heeseung was the one to do it.

So it was easy to convince him to go to lunch at your mother's house. You wanted to think it was because of the pool out back or her food, not because he had to explain something to you because you didn't want to hear it.

You refused to fall for his charms while he explained why he had cheated on you for a long time – totaling a month and a half, unfortunately, you counted – only for you to discover that there was another woman. And it wasn't even Heeseung who told you, it came out of Jake's mouth.

If your friend hadn't said anything at the amusement park, would you have known about her? Or would you continue to be fooled until you kissed Heeseung, fell even more in love and then he left you?

"Shit" you cursed quietly when the doorbell snapped you out of your thoughts.

All the food had been ready for a long time and you and your brother had decided to wait, sipping a glass of wine that your mother always left out for you to enjoy while they cooked.

It had to be the Lee siblings, so you decided to fill your glass and lean on the kitchen counter, not having the courage to move your feet as your brother walked past you and smiled with his mouth against the glass he was drinking.

"My love" Jay called out, and you knew it was Heejin he was greeting.

"Heeseung, Aimi!" that was your mother, and your stomach immediately churned at the mention of her name "Y/n, come over here."

I don't want to.

You should answer, that's what you had to do.

But contrary to your thoughts, your feet betrayed you and made you walk to the kitchen door so slowly that you were almost dragging yourself. Perhaps the glass of wine could have helped and stopped you from hugging them both, it would have been a perfect excuse while you just greeted everyone and went back to the kitchen.

As soon as you arrived, your eyes went straight to Heeseung and… A child? Heeseung was holding a little girl in his arms and she was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

Dark hair, curious eyes, and flushed cheeks. She closed her little eyes as she smiled when Jay approached to take her in his arms, hearing the most delightful giggle you could ever remember a child having.

"Hey" Heejin greeted you before anyone could say anything. The two boys were very entertained by the little girl, who was mumbling a few things and talking to them, while your mother was already looking for a cartoon channel for her to watch "Are you okay?" your sister-in-law toasted with her full glass, and it was then that you noticed that she was holding Jay's glass.

Your head just nodded, saying nothing until Heeseung's eyes landed on you. He frowned when he saw how much wine was in your glass and you couldn't hide it since, as it was full, any sudden movement to place it behind your body could cause it to tip over.

Jay still had the little one on his lap and held her hand as he turned to you. She smiled in your direction and you tried to smile back, begging the heavens you hadn't made a face to scare the poor thing.

"Hi, y/n" Heeseung said directly to you as soon as you arrived at your mother's house. You shook your head at him, a silent way of saying hello. Your voice would waver if you said anything since it was the first time you'd seen him since the day at the amusement park, so you couldn't risk having a shaky, slurred, or harsh voice. So just a nod would be fine.

"You can choose any cartoon that uncle Jay will watch with you before lunch" Jay raised his hand and the little girl clapped it, making an animated hi-five as you watched your brother walk over to the sofa with her.

Your eyes lingered too long on the two of them animatedly chatting about the colorful cartoon characters that you didn't notice that Heejin had gone to talk to his mother and Heeseung was standing in front of you.

Hands in his pants pockets, hair slightly mussed, and biting his lower lip. He looked a little apprehensive for his taste.

"Y/n…"

"Bathroom" the little girl announced before Heeseung could even finish his sentence. He quickly looked over to where she was sitting and excused himself as he picked her up.

"Ready to use the bathroom?" he had such a beautiful smile when he talked to her that it seemed too encouraging, you almost forgot that you were angry with him "I'll be right back" Heeseung said before disappearing down the corridor in search of the downstairs bathroom.

That's how long it took you to stare at Jay and take a long sip of your wine before you saw him return with the little girl still on his lap.

"I did it, uncle Jay" she celebrated and Jay got up from the sofa, picking her up again.

"You were amazing, you know that? Your dad and I are so proud of you," he said.

Dad?

You bit your tongue to keep from screaming at that moment. The only thought running through your mind when Heeseung was still in the middle of the room but with his gaze fully on you.

"Y/n, that's Aimi" he pointed to the little girl who, as soon as she heard her name called, turned towards him "My daughter. And sweetie, this is y/n, uncle Jay's sister."

"Fuck" you whispered so quietly, not out of indignation, but because there was a child and you couldn't swear at her.

So your only reaction – apart from widening your eyes – was to gulp down all the wine and feel it burn your throat as you ran to the kitchen.

Your luck was that Aimi only nodded for a few seconds before turning her attention back to the drawing she was watching with Jay, so your state of panic hadn't had much effect on her. Unlike Heeseung, who walked in quick, hurried steps to the kitchen to chase after you.

The search for the wine was tireless. That bottle had run out a while ago and all you had to do was find another that your mother kept right there, but no. Those hands stopped you from opening it. Those hands stopped you from opening the mini cellar under the counter and made you turn to him.

"Wine won't help you much" Heeseung whispered to you.

"I just need to… I…"

"You need to sober up because I think we need to talk, don't you?"

Why did he have to whisper everything? And why did Heeseung have a relentless habit of leaning towards you every time he stood in front of you to say something?

"It's okay" was the only thing you managed to say because the next second his lips were on yours. Briefly, a kiss so quick that you couldn't even process the softness of Heeseung's mouth against yours.

"Great choice of wine, by the way" he licked his lips before leaving the kitchen, just as quickly as he came in after you.

Heeseung was right, you two needed to talk. You were just putting it off all day because you felt like a complete idiot, thinking all sorts of bad things about him and your friends when, in fact, Aimi was just a child. And Heeseung's daughter.

All right, he also felt stupid for never mentioning it since the first time you and he started to get even closer, but the real thing was that he was afraid. He didn't want it to always be the same.

You swore that every moment at your parents' house would lead to a conversation with Heeseung because he never took his eyes off you, only to look in on Aimi or help her with something when no adult was doing so. He was such a helpful father and that only made your heart swell even more for that man.

Your mind just didn't process the fact that little Aimi would be clinging to you the moment everyone sat down to lunch.

"Sweetie, let y/n eat…"

"Dad" she pouted as she sat on your lap, smoothing her long hair so that it didn't fall on the plate in front of her.

"It's okay, I think I can help you, can't I, Aimi?"

"Yes" she turned her head to look at you, and that smile like her father's made you smile too.

Aimi was polite, only asked for your help to cut things she had difficulty with, and ate her vegetables without complaining while Heeseung just watched until she finished eating so she could get off your lap. So you could eat right then.

You noticed that Aimi sulked throughout lunch while the others ate until they finished their meal and she held out her arms to you.

"I thought we were going to watch a cartoon" Jay pouted when he saw that Aimi hadn't gone to sit on his lap.

"Actually, uncle Jay thought he'd get away with doing the dishes" you pretended to whisper to Aimi, hearing her giggle immediately afterward "But I think she'd rather stay with auntie y/n now, wouldn't you?"

When she nodded, it was enough for Jay to make a scene in which Aimi laughed even more.

Spending the afternoon with that child was the most incredible thing that could have happened to you over the last few days.

Watching cartoons with Aimi, hearing about colors and how she could count to forty. Or how she knew about animals because uncle Jay had given her a book that made sounds with a magic pen. And he bragged about the compliments in the present.

You felt your heart warm even more when everyone decided to spend time in the back garden, your lap serving as comfort for Aimi who played with the end of your hair until Heeseung signaled that she had fallen asleep on your lap. You didn't mind. She didn't weigh anything, she was cuddling you so comfortably and her little body was sleeping so nonchalantly that you just held her there and paid attention to Heejin's words, who was telling you about something at work.

Your eyes caught Heeseung's from time to time, and he couldn't help smiling as he looked at you and then at Aimi. Your daughter had liked you and that made Heeseung feel better, maybe the fear had passed and he could talk to you.

"Hey, y/n" Heeseung whispered close to your ear. You did everything you could not to move abruptly and not wake Aimi on your lap, so you just looked at him, noticing that his attention was everywhere but on what was happening in front of him.

Now it was your father who was talking about something you and your brother had done during a family vacation. Heejin laughed, asking something and you simply decided to pay attention to the man next to you.

"I can take her inside, I think I'll put her on the sofa because it's getting cold and your arms will go numb afterward" he kept whispering, making you laugh.

"I'll help you" you also whispered, settling Aimi in your arms and getting up with her still on your lap.

This was quite common, considering that Jay was always the one to take Aimi when Heeseung went to family lunches. But now you were there, placing Aimi on the three-seater sofa, wrapping her in cushions, and taking the blanket from Heeseung's hands to cover her carefully.

"She's beautiful" your voice came out so low, the compliment was so natural that you only noticed when Heeseung leaned his shoulder against yours and let out a low laugh.

"I think I did a good job" you laughed along with him, looking away from the little girl to the boy next to you "Do you have some time for me now?"

"Of course."

It couldn't be put off any longer, you knew he wanted to talk too so maybe it was time since everyone was talking outside and Aimi had gone to sleep. It was just you and Heeseung on the other side of the room so as not to wake the little one.

Being on the smaller sofa had never been a problem, but the proximity to him was what was making you apprehensive. Their legs touching each other, Heeseung's hands searching for something to hold, opting to leave it on his knees as he looked across the room. He looked at his daughter.

"It happened in the famous cliché of the first one-night stand in university" he moistened his lips and laughed humorlessly, then looked at you and bit his lower lip "Aimi's mother didn't want to keep her."

"What?" your eyes widened at that. You noticed that he sighed, perhaps he was about to tell you something difficult, so your instinct was to take one of his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers and showing that you were right there. Next to him, listening very carefully.

He sighed, taking a little more courage.

Heeseung and Jay had met and it wasn't by chance, they had been assigned roommates in university as soon as Heeseung had been admitted to his course. He and the boys have been inseparable ever since.

Like any university party, which you knew your brother was part of, Heeseung also liked to have fun like any other adult who had just been admitted and wanted to enjoy his youth. But irresponsibility got to him.

Unprotected and fruitless sex only happened in the movies his sister watched, because it wasn't like that with him. Months later, the news that the girl was pregnant devastated him and he wasn't sure what to do, but he thought that they could take care of the baby and that he would be there to help her.

That's not what happened. Heeseung lived on threats all that time.

I don't want to keep this baby unless you stay with me.

It was cruel, she was cruel to Heeseung. But what could he do? That woman was carrying his baby and he could only try to do everything to please her until the child was born. Aimi was beautiful from the first minutes of her life and was the joy of the Lee family.

"I think we should break up" that sentence made Heeseung sigh with relief, he knew it wouldn't last in a relationship that he had sustained only for the sake of the child.

Agreeing was the only right thing to do. But he also didn't know that she would give up any contact with the little girl, literally taking away any responsibility, walking out and never getting involved in the little girl's life since birth.

"The guardianship is completely yours, and she will never go near my niece again" Heejin had done everything since the second she found out she was going to be an aunt, and she had done everything could to make sure that woman would never go near Aimi.

Almost three years passed and he thought it would be difficult, but no. Heeseung was a father – solo – but he had such an immense support network, like his friends, his family, and Jay's family. Aimi didn't miss a mother figure in the slightest because she was surrounded by the love he always knew she never lacked.

Heeseung's fear revolved around any relationship that wouldn't accept his daughter, or that the child's mother would somehow resurface trying to give up something she never had a right to just because he was moving on with his life.

"I don't think you need to worry about that" you said in a low tone, letting him breathe a little after telling most – or almost all – of the story, "Heejin made it very clear and you know how much weight her words carry."

Heeseung laughed.

He clasped his hands even tighter in yours, tilting his head to rest his forehead against yours too.

"Believe me, over the years I've tried to get into relationships and one of them said that I spent more time with Aimi than with her."

"What—" you moved away for a few seconds, just long enough to face Heeseung, and then returned to your starting position, leaning your forehead against his "I think the danger now is that I'll be spending more time with her than with you."

"Will I be double-changed?" false indignation in his voice and Heeseung's hands loosened from his for a brief moment. You would have protested at the loss of contact if it hadn't been for his fingers slowly trailing up your cheek "If that's the case, I'll take it just fine."

"Then start thinking about it, Lee Heeseung."

"I'm thinking, Park Y/n" and then his lips met yours halfway.

A slow kiss and the perfect movement of each other's lips in such calm synchronicity. It was as if they both needed it as their tongues moved slowly, tasting the drink from hours ago and how Heeseung's warm muscle curled into yours. Your hands met his on his face, deepening the kiss even more and letting out a sigh when he slid down the sofa to be even closer to you.

That kiss was on another level, you felt like you were in paradise while Heeseung's lips were still on yours.

He slid his mouth along your jaw and down to your neck, small kisses left on your skin making you shiver completely until they were interrupted by a whimper.

You and Heeseung separated very slowly, both of you looking at the other sofa and noticing that Aimi was starting to cry quietly as she stood up, scratching at her eyes and with her hair completely messed up.

Heeseung got up from the sofa where the two of you were, walked over to his daughter, and bent down in front of her.

"Hi my love, did you have a bad dream?" he asked her, the little girl's eyes going to her father and they were completely watery. She held out her arms for him to take her, and so Heeseung did. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked back, with no reply. Aimi still had a pout on her lips and her eyes were almost streaming with the tears she was holding back.

That was enough for you to pout at the scene in front of you, holding back a scream as Aimi looked at you and her eyes lit up.

Her little arms went out towards you so excitedly that she almost threw herself off Heeseung's lap. You quickly got up from the sofa and picked her up, kissing her on the top of the head before making her lie on your shoulder.

"Sweetie?" Heeseung called out after she had snuggled into your lap.

"I want y/n" she said sleepily, yawning as she lay on your shoulder and practically falling back asleep within seconds.

You and Heeseung looked at each other, holding back a laugh as the little one went back to dreamland after being snuggled in your arms. He approached the two of you, kissing Aimi's cheek and then kissing your forehead before placing his own against it. Faces close together.

"I think I'm getting your daughter for myself" you hummed, kissing his lips in the process.

Heeseung laughed, nodding in denial as you moved away to go to the larger sofa in the living room.

He wanted to deny it and play with you, but seeing Aimi on your lap and that scene in front of him, all the fear Heeseung had was gone for sure.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[miwiheroes]

Dropping Byler Evidence Every Day Until Season 5

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Day 1 - The M&Ms scene . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

So yeah, this scene is never really talked about that much as like actual proof, more like a funni little thing where Mike looks at Will for a moment when he walks away, but analysis of the cinematography, framing and narrative of this scene can be revealing.

First thing: as soon as El wipes her nose, revealing it was her that helped Mike and Lucas, the camera zooms in on Mike, as if to be like 'oooh wonder how he's going to react'! and the audience is then in suspense, because they're probably expecting him to smile or try to take this opportunity.

What does he do? He just says 'Thanks." And the moment of suspense is broken. It's almost like a record scratch. We will come back to this reaction later, basically because it shows that Mike really does not mind being on these terms with El.

Second thing: At first glance there seems to be 3 main characters of this scene: Mike, Lucas and El. However, Will also seems to be included in this scene unlike Max who is also there. There is no reason to have Will be in some of these shots that, I want you guys to understand, is intentional. The directors didn't just accidentally set up this frame:

They didn't just forget to move Will out the way. In this shot, the Rule of Thirds can be applied. While El and half of Mike are in the second third/ third third, both half of Mike and Will are in the same third. This is also the third on the left, which is where (in western cultures) people begin to look at images from (reading from left to right). The fact that Will looks at Mike when he says 'Thanks' is the first thing that the audience is intended to notice (because its on the left), even if it is very subtle.

It is also important to note that the writers of the show know, in this moment, that Will is in love with Mike, they've had that planned out from the start (this is undeniably canon, unlike Mike's feelings to Will). Therefore, it is interesting that they included him in this shot and the next part too:

Like?? what was the point of the directors putting him in this part? Placing him in an interactional role with Mike in a Mike and El scene is just interesting to me. Like,,,, also could Mike not have talked to El with Will there?

After Will gets up, there is this really awkwardly long part where Will goes from the left third to the right third of the screen and just stays there? Like he's still in the shot (which they can easily catch and retake if they needed to). Why do the writers/directors want you to take such notice of his presence?

Also, going back to the fact that Will has to leave for Mike to be able to talk to El. Again, the directors did not need to put Will in this scene, they could have had him doing something else. Instead, they had him there to subtly further his character arc of being selfless/being shoved away by Mike in favour of El. It's also maybe simply because Mike just can't handle having both Will and El in the same context without ignoring one for the other, because he holds them to the same romantic standard.

We see this mishandling of El and Will in the airport scene, the whole time Mike is with El in the beginning of S3, Rink o Mania, the dinner after Rink o Mania etc. Basically, when both El and Will are around, he feels like he has to get rid of Will to be able to be romantic towards El, despite being able to talk about it to Lucas. When it's just him and Will, he's pretty happy (we see this in the 'Cool. Cool.' scene and the 'Guess it's up to us again' scene which are the only two scenes in S4 where Mike believes he is no longer in a relationship with El and just thinks he needs to team up with Will and go back to Hawkins without El). Therefore, he needed Will out the way because he can't be romantic with his girlfriend with Will distracting him lmao <3

Third Thing: Lucas is the one to encourage Mike to make up with El.

To be honest, him encouraging him alone isn't really that convincing of the fact that Mike is queer coded blah blah, like, your friend is allowed to say 'That was the Olive branch! Your way in!' without it being queercoding. The queercoding however, comes with the reaction to that information.

First, I want to point to something I may bring up in the future of this series. In S1, Lucas is the first person to ever suggest that there might be something romantic going on between Mike and El. When he says "Why don't you just marry her?", Mike does not go all ooooh flustery and blushy, he does not go 'EW GROSS' like a lot of boys that age would, instead he just acts confused. Multiple times.

The first time is when he goes, "Lucas what are you talking about?" The second is in response to Lucas going "Mike, seriously?" saying "What?" again. When Lucas then teases him about caring about her, he just says "Shut up Lucas" in this really tired tone, rather than a flustered or angry one. He basically gets the idea that he probably should like El romantically, if he shows even any care towards her.

Now, throughout S3, Lucas is the one to constantly question Mike's actions towards El. He's confused on why he won't tell her the truth about Hopper, and everything else, which all culminates into this "Oh my god. You're hopeless," when referring to picking up signals about girls.

I must say this rn too: You don't pick up on signals you don't want to receive. You do pick up on signals you do want to receive. I think most of us know what it's like to have a crush. You constantly look out for little things and overanalyse their actions towards you. But Mike has no clue. Maybe because.... he just doesnt feel that way.

Okay going back to reactions. Basically, you would kind of expect Mike's reaction to hearing that his girlfriend, that he's sooooo sad about losing oh nooooo, has decided to reach out and say that she's okay with him would be excitement, right?

When Lucas is describing how he's going to let Mike talk to El, Mike looks extremely nervous, which I get. It's normal to feel nervous in this situation, but the thing is, El seems okay with him, surely he would at least have a little light in his eyes?

When Lucas has to say 'Talk to her, alright?' (as if Mike has no fucking clue) Mike nods and then there is a swell in the music, the camera zooms in on him, and instead of the music swelling to some nice, positive tones, it's almost foreboding, mimicking the mixed feelings swirling in Mike's brain. His face also kind of looks.... weird like he's unsure, or maybe he's disappointed? Nervous? idk

I would understand this to be a little romantic if he smiles, but jesus, he does not crack a single grin at this part.

It almost seems like he's deciding to do something he doesn't really want to. I think he was completely content with the fact that she helped them, but didn't want to do anything about it because he's totally fine being on good terms with her, obviously, but not necessarily on romantic terms with her. Maybe he's fine with the fact she doesn't really want to be with him.

However, after Lucas says this stuff, now he's looking over at her and thinking, wait, maybe she does want to be with me.

But instead of a:

Wow, maybe she does want to be with me! :D

It's a:

Oh, so she does want to be with me.

^basically this means Mike decides, based on his encouragement from Lucas rather than his own feelings, that he should talk to her. What can he say to Lucas here? That he doesn't want to? That isn't really an option for him.

Fourth Thing: Okay this is very small but for some reason this scene is interspersed with scenes of Jonathan and Nancy getting almost killed by the mindflayer army like???

Why would they cut from this very tense scene where these beloved characters are about to be killed to this scene between Mike and El where everything is fine!

It's like.,,,, they want the audience to be tense watching them, even if it's not directly for the right reasons. They want the audience to maybe feel the tension in the foreboding nature of the fact that the mindflayer is in the same building as them, meaning there is always some danger lurking in the background.

Okay hope you enjoyed today's byler evidence :) stay tuned for tomorrow's!

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | December 30th 2024-January 5th 2025

Welcome to 2025 everybody!! The year of #BuddieCanon!!!

Started working on my favourite fics of 2024 rec, I'm hoping to post it in the next week! And when I'm looking back, I always end up distracted on the way, which is the reason for the ungodly amount of re-read fics in this rec 😅

Little bit unconventional but I'm gonna rec some meta! The Buddie Vers-Switch Theory: a Meta-Analysis is really interesting!

Complete

just like coming home by tinygiantsam/ @watchyourbuck (S7, First Kiss | 1,5K | Teen): Buck and Eddie go on their first date. Eddie wears the 'good cologne.' 

when the clock strikes midnight by tinygiantsam/ @watchyourbuck (Post-S8 Spec, Christmas | 4K | Teen): Future Buck looked at his watch, then at the clock on the wall, then back to him. “In about five minutes, Eddie’s gonna try to kiss you.” Buck’s heart skipped a beat, his throat drying from back to front. He wetted his lips in instinct. “What?” “And I’m gonna need you to kiss him back.” OR: on christmas night, buck is visited by what seems like the ghost of christmas future. he has a very particular request (that he cannot refuse). 

every corner of this house is haunted by justhockey (NYE, Chris comes back from Texas, Getting Together | 4K | General): And now that love is everywhere, is in everything. It’s worn so deeply into the grooves of his skin that it’s changed the very structure of his fingerprint - is burrowed so deep inside of him that it has rewritten his DNA. His love for Eddie and for Christopher is carved into his bones - etched onto his heart like an epitaph: love lived here. Love left here.

Next in line by tinygiantsam/ @watchyourbuck (Getting Together, Post-S6 | 6K | Explicit): “Hold on,” he muttered, putting his finger up and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “So you’ve been dating this man for six months, b-” Buck cut him off. “Yes.” “But,” Eddie continued, “he’s not your boyfriend?” “N-No.” Eddie’s frown deepened. He tried to keep it in; he really did. “Okay, well, does he want you or not? Because he’s holding up the fucking line!”

Let me give you my life by paleredheadinascifi (Post-S8S6: Confessions, Getting Together | 6K | Teen): “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I am. Fuck. I am freaking out,” he agrees, lifting his head to look at Buck helplessly. “You’re in my lap.” “I’m so extremely aware of that. You’re not wearing any pants,” Buck adds. A smile tugs at the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “I am also very aware of that.” Or, another take on what happened after the couch scene. Eddie *wants*. They're both brave about it.

a lighthouse in the fog by greenbergsays/ @greenbergsays (BT Break-Up, First Kiss | 7K | Teen): The one where Buck wakes up after surgery and realizes that Tommy doesn't meet his emotional needs. The break-up doesn't go quite like he expected.

It Still Gets Cold in Texas by jukoist/ @beforejuko (Post-S8A, Eddie moves to El Paso, Outsider POV, Getting Together | 9K | Mature): Cara Alvarez of the El Paso Fire Department knows exactly two things about her new coworker Eddie Diaz. One: Diaz has a husband named 'Buck', who he left back in LA. Two: Diaz is Extremely Annoying about how much he misses his husband, the aforementioned 'Buck'. Or; Eddie moves to El Paso, and his new coworkers come to certain assumptions. Eddie... does not correct these assumptions.

🔥 If Only In My Dreams by songbvrd/ @songbvrd (Post-S8A, Eddie goes to El Paso, Christmas, Getting Together | 9K | General): Evan Buckley had never been good at knowing when to let go of things. So when Eddie Diaz told him on a chilly Friday afternoon that he had put his house on the market and started packing, Buck told himself that this time, he wasn't going to cling to someone trying to leave him behind. This time, Buck would understand what rejection looked like, and he would let someone he loved walk away with dignity. OR Eddie moves to El Paso a month before Christmas. Buck goes a little bit insane about it.

see both sides by snorlaxer (Post-S7, Mind-reading | 9K | Teen): When Buck overlooks a small injury to the head during one of his shifts, it turns out to be a very big problem once he starts hearing the internal voices of everyone he walks by, including his best friend, who seems to be undergoing a silent life-crisis. As Buck listens more and more to the thoughts that surround him, he becomes increasingly more confused with his own. OR Buck can hear other people's thoughts, and Eddie's are everything and nothing like he expected.

Wherever you find love (make it last all year) by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Canon Divergent, Christmas | 12K | Mature): Buck first met Eddie on Christmas. This is the story of seven Christmases they spend together.

🔥 i can't see you (the light is in my face) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S8A, Eddie goes to Texas, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 15K | Explicit): "Have you even tried making friends?" "God, Abuela, what am I in kindergarten again?" "No, you were much more outgoing in kindergarten. Made friends with the whole class. Teachers too. Now, your only friend is an old lady. If you're really moving here, Eddie, you need to make some friends. You can't just rely on me and Christopher to keep you company." "I know. I know. I think I'm just scared to put roots down. It doesn't feel real yet, you know? Every time I wake up, I keep waiting to see my ceiling from home, walk past Christopher's room on the way to the kitchen, find Buck in the kitchen making pancakes. I don't think I want it to feel real. Plus," he adds with a brittle grin, "the last time I made a new friend, Buck almost broken my ankle." And then slept with said friend, he thinks. "I'm not convinced he couldn't give me a bloody nose from eight-hundred miles away just by thinking real hard." (OR: eddie makes a new friend, she makes some assumptions, eddie spirals about it in his patented life-ruining way)

🔥 all the ashes I've earned by greenbergsays/ @greenbergsays (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Near Death Experiences | 22K | Teen): A horn blares. Buck looks in time to see the truck barreling right for him. Something a lot like relief washes over him. Good, he thinks. At least now he doesn’t have to watch Eddie walk away. -- OR: Spiraling about Eddie's announcement, Buck gets into a car accident and falls into another coma. This is Eddie in the aftermath.

🔥 wake up, boy, you're far from home by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S8A, Christmas, Eddie Sexuality Crisis, Getting Together | 23K | Explicit): Eddie is miserable in El Paso, having seemingly made things worse. Buck is miserable in Los Angeles, without him. When Buck agrees to go home to Hershey for the holidays, everything implodes.

WIP

🔥 Finding Mr Christmas by JJK/@trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Canon Divergent, Reality TV, Christmas | 9/11 | 52K | Teen): "Welcome to Finding Mr Christmas! You’re all here chasing the same dream, to star in a Hallmark Christmas movie, and over the next few weeks we’re going to be putting you through your paces to see which of you has the most star quality and that ‘it’ factor that makes you shine above the rest." 🎄🎄🎄 An AU where Buck and Eddie meet as contestants on Hallmark's Finding Mr Christmas competition (and fall for each other).

🔥 Cadence by Nejinee/ @nejineeee (Future fic, Getting Together | 1/2 | 6K | Explicit): When the credits finally finished rolling and Buck was left in the shrouded silence of Eddie’s house, he sighed. He turned his head slightly, feeling Eddie’s unbelievably soft hair brush against his cheek. Eddie’s cologne was all but gone after a day like today. Eventually, he’d need to shower and get ready for bed. Buck wanted to wait a moment; he wanted to sit in this silence a little longer.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 141/? | 454K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 10/? | 63K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

Podfic

[podfic] and we can stay all day by be_brave13/ @djemsowhat // fic by trippedandfell/ @trippedandfell (Zoologist Buck AU | 20-30min | Teen): “So let me get this straight,” Hen says, once she’s stopped laughing at him. “Your nerd crush-” “-Evan Buckley,” Eddie miserably interjects. “Your nerd crush,” Hen repeats, waggling her eyebrows. At the kitchen table beside her, Chimney is grinning like Christmas just came early. “Read your drunk tweet and then sent you animal facts via DM?” or: Buck's a zoologist. Eddie's pretty sure he's in love. (Part 1 of zoologist buck)

[Podfic] What's love got to do with it? by Pretzel26 // fic by ColorMeParanoid/ @color-me-paranoid (Platonic Boyfriends to Lovers | 1/30 | 10-20min | Mature): "Hear me out," Buck said. "Clearly, both of us are sick of dating other people. And we're a good fit, in pretty much every way that matters. So what if we're not in love? We don't need to be in love to be happy together." Eddie frowned. "So basically, we'd be boyfriends, without benefits?" "Yes!" Buck snapped his fingers. "Like platonic boyfriends! We'd get all the benefits of a relationship and none of the heartbreak." And maybe Eddie had finally lost his mind, or maybe it was from all the alcohol clouding his judgment, but the idea of it didn't sound half as crazy as it should have. *** After Buck’s and Eddie’s dates both end with disasters – proving once again that maybe dating just wasn’t meant for them – they decide to simply settle for each other. If there was one person in the world they'd ever trust with their hearts, it was each other. And who was a better person to date other than your very own best friend?

Re-read

🔥what if i can't have us by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S7E5, Getting Together, Sexuality Crisis | 47K Explicit): In which Eddie is dating Marisol; Buck's dating Tommy, and Eddie has feelings about that, which he simply does. not. understand.

🔥 The Heart Opening Sequence by Leslie_Knope (Post-S3, Getting Together | 34K | Mature): Eddie’s handsome, that’s obvious, Buck clocked that the second he met him. Part of him still can’t really believe that the guy he was so threatened by at first ended up as his closest friend, which is why these weird twinges are so unsettling. Buck isn’t sure if they’re real, for one, these odd flashes of what it would be like to lean over and kiss Eddie while they’re watching a movie or brush a hand over his back while they’re in the kitchen. And for two, it’s so far out of the realm of possibility that it’s barely worth thinking about.

🔥 drink the river dry by Rianne/ @rianneeyre (Post Shooting, Getting Together | 32K | Explicit): It wasn’t until they were discussing his discharge paperwork and painkiller schedules that it really sunk in for Eddie that Buck would be staying with him and Christopher. That he would be around 24/7 except for his shifts at work. That he’ll sleep on the couch, where he’s been sleeping for days now to look after Christopher. The worst part is that it’s necessary—Eddie isn’t going to be able to do a damn thing for himself for the next couple of weeks. He’s lucky if he can put a shirt on by himself a month from now. Yeah, that’s going to be a problem. Or: Eddie gets shot, breaks up with his girlfriend, and pines like there’s no tomorrow.

🔥Plus or Minus by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (S5 | 10K | General): “Why are you cleaning out the kitchen? Why is my stuff in boxes?” Eddie slows, then stops. “Figured you’d want it back.” It’s quieter. Pained. When he says it. “I haven’t decided anything. So unless you’re kicking me out—” “Buck. Come on.” He’s not angry or snapping. It’s still quiet, and somehow that hurts even more. He’s resigned and defeated, and Buck is a scooped out, gutted, hollow shell. “I know how this ends the same way you do. You want to be loved, you want to be married. You’re going to leave. Might as well…” His voice cracks before he can finish and get it under control. “Shouldn’t drag it out.” ~ Taylor is offered a job across the country and asks Buck to go with her. Buck has to figure out if he wants to start over or if he has a reason to stay right where he is.

🔥 The Pain Will Leave You Once It's Done Teaching You by fruitsdoesnotknow (Canon Divergent, Daniel Lives-kinda | 40K | Mature): “Hi, I’m Buck, a firefighter with the 136,” for now, the thought crashes through Buck, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. “Uh, you’re both welcome to take a tour with us, if you’d like.” Buck awkwardly scratches at his neck, running a hand through his hair, unsure what else to do, and it spurs the man in front of him to take a large step forward up to Buck’s bed. “Eddie,” he says, thrusting a hand to him, and Buck reaches over without a second thought. His whole palm feels electric, it smarts and carries the touch of Eddie, Eddie, that Buck feels it completely. He has no idea what’s happening to him. “Edmundo Diaz, but just Eddie though, uh, no one calls me Edmundo. Right. I’m a new nurse here, at Cedars-Senai. Oh –” *** When Daniel Buckley lives a little longer, Evan Buckley dies a little more. And this is how Eddie Diaz saves him, a little later on.

i find you in everything (but its here you find yourself) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck takes another sig of beer, "she left." "Sorry, man, I know you liked her. Guess where most people are scared of death, a death doula is scared of life." "Wow, that's actually pretty poignant," Buck says. "Didn't know you had it in you." Eddie just rolls his eyes. "Its weird, though, her being scared off by a donor baby." Eddie frowns over at him. "Chris didn't freak her out?"

and if someone asked me if I love you (I'd lie) by forgetmyname/ @kingmieczyslaw (Crack | 10K | Explicit): Eddie has a concussion. Suddenly he can't lie. It would be fine if he wasn't trying his best to not confess his undying love for Buck.

🔥 the kiss that lingers by greenbergsays/ @greenbergsays (Getting Together | 10K | Explicit): 5 times Eddie kisses Buck's birthmark & 1 time he doesn't.

🔥I'm Hearing Secret Harmonies by Chash/ @ponyregrets (Canon Divergent, Witch Eddie, Coffeshop AU | 18K | Teen): When the firefighter walks into Eddie's coffeeshop, Eddie immediately knows two things about him: he's not human, and he's the love of Eddie's life. Oh, he knows a bunch of other things too, obviously. He's about thirty, a few months younger than Eddie himself. He has a scar on his throat, like he got stabbed there, and one of his legs has some metal rods in it that must have come from a bad injury. The guy doesn't know he's not human, which is a tricky thing to figure out, but Eddie's almost positive. Most of the non-humans he knows have always known they aren't people, but there are exceptions, and they tend to carry themselves differently. The firefighter moves like he knows he doesn't belong, but not like he knows why. Like he's afraid of taking up space, afraid of being noticed. As if Eddie is even capable of not noticing him.

you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad by bellabrady (Post-S6, Getting Together | 5K | Not Rated): Or: Eddie is annoyed with Buck for being so very kissable but his drunk self isn't the best at phrasing things.

🔥 This May Be Practice, But I'm an Experienced Idiot by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Fake Dating, kinda, Getting Together | 10K | Teen): Buck overhears a conversation between Eddie, Hen, and Chim and misunderstands it all. Or, the one where Buck thinks Eddie’s only asked him on a date for practice.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 8: The Toxic In Intoxication

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

Your mouth is poison (your mouth is wine)

(In which an all over the place writer, writes something that's a little bit all over the place)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy,

Words: 9.0K

TW: Swearing, a little bit of violence, mentions of blood, men being men

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Unfortunately, as I've been warning y'all for a while, the deadline did finally slip through my fingers. However I'm hoping y'all will forgive me for it because I am only one day late and this chapter is quite long. I do wanna warn y'all in advance that there won't be a chapter next week because I am going on vacation and my laptop is staying very, very far away from me. There's a lot going on in this chapter and I'm not sure how I feel about the whole thing but I'm hoping y'all will enjoy it anyways. I did actually edit this time but who knows how successful that was, so please let me know about typos/mistakes. As always, feel free to tell me about what you liked, what you disliked and anything you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your weeks my loves <3

August 2025

Azzi Fudd is a spectacular liar. She excels at keeping up a façade of yes everything is perfectly fine in front of her friends and family. She’s quite good at tricking people she can barely stand into thinking oh yes i’m totally enjoying this conversation. But the person Azzi lies the most to, is without a doubt herself. As she steps out of the car into the hot Indiana air, bustling with noises from the growing crowd inside, Azzi internally repeats a lie to herself again: she did not show up to all-star weekend for a glimpse of her ex girlfriend. She’s here, as per Colleen’s managerial advice, to build connections, to further her career and to expand on opportunities in the basketball world. The fact that Paige Bueckers, who Azzi hasn’t seen in three months -the longest period of time they’d spent apart since she’d started at UConn- is definitely also going to be attending tonight’s party, is merely a happenstance. 

Taking a deep breath, Azzi puts one kitten heeled foot in front of the other, trying to ignore her heightened nerves. This isn’t her preferred scene by any means. She’d much rather be back in her hotel room, curled on her couch with a book and a pint of ice cream. It’s not that Azzi doesn’t like parties; she has her fair share of fun at Ted’s, but it’s the unfamiliarity of the environment and the lack of that once ever present comforting hand that used to tap out i’m here for you against the back of her own at big events like these, that has her yearning to crawl back into the car and hide away. 

“Azzi?” a familiar voice calls from behind her and Azzi lets out a sigh of relief as she sees Aaliyah walking towards her with a large welcoming grin, “Azeray!”

“Li-Li. Thank god you’re here,” Azzi reaches up to hug her former teammate, mentally thanking whatever god was looking out for her. She’d dreaded walking in by herself and now she wouldn’t have to. Really she probably should probably send Coach a ‘thank you’ text for having so many alumni in the league that there was bound to be a Husky she could attach herself to for the night. 

“I’m glad to see you too Az,” Aaliyah says, pulling away and looking at Azzi with a semi-concerned look, “but you seem a little extra relieved to see me? You good dude?”

“Just- just a little nervous,” Azzi admits, shuffling her feet uneasily. 

Realization dawns on Aaliyah’s face, “cause of Paige?”

“No you know I don’t like big unfamiliar places,” Azzi sighs when Aaliayh gives her a pointed look, “but I guess maybe- maybe a little cause of Paige.”

The Mystics forward shakes her head before linking her arms through Azzi’s, “I swear, I leave y’all for one year and everything implodes-," she bites her tongue, "shit was that insensitive?”

“No,” Azzi grimaces, “that’s pretty much exactly what happened.”

Something hard coils in her stomach at Aaliyah’s words. The truth is they’d been fine. Better than fine even. And then suddenly Azzi was lighting a box of matches she hadn’t even known she was holding and her whole world was on fire; an implosion of everything Azzi had once thought inflammable. She’d burned her hands trying to rescue them and all she has to show for it are invisible red hot pustules that refuse to heal. But perhaps, she thinks, that’s what a pyromaniac like her had deserved. 

Azzi cowers under the flashing lights of the cameras, clinging tighter to Aaliyah’s arm as the two of them make their way onto the orange carpet, the cameramen immediately swinging their devices to capture the college basketball player more than likely to be the number one pick in next year’s WNBA draft. She feels herself tense under their piercing gaze, anchored only by Aaliyah's strong and steady presence next to her. And as they pose for the cameras, she’s thankful for her former teammate’s company but she can’t shake the feeling that it should have been someone else. 

“And look who we have here,” Lexie Brown says excitedly as the two of them approach the interviewer, “y’all Huskies clean up nice.”

“We try, we try,” Aaliyah answers charismatically, doing a little hair flip to match her tone. 

“Aaliyah, it's your first all-star nod, how are you feeling?” 

“I feel great, you know it’s always good to see yourself being acknowledged and being an all-star has always been a goal of mine. So, I hope it’s the first of many and I’m just hoping my team gets the W tomorrow,” Aaliyah answers diplomatically.

Lexie turns to Azzi, “I bet you’re really proud of her. I mean you’ve got a couple of teammates who are first-time all stars between Aaliyah and Paige. You’ve gotta be feeling pretty proud of them”

“Y-yeah I mean,” Azzi clears her throat, trying not to flinch at the mention of Paige’s name, “It’s been- it’s been really exciting to watch them and I’m extremely proud-”

She’s cut off by the sound of excited chatter filling up the air and Azzi doesn’t have to turn around to know who’s just entered the premises. Not when she has a whole separate sensory system that flares up just for her. Azzi’s skin prickles as she registers the sound of familiar peals of laughter echoing from the orange carpet. She digs her nails into the palm of her hand, forcing herself not to turn around. 

“Speak of the devil,” Lexie says goodnaturedly, getting her hand ready to beckon the blonde over and Azzi feels panic suffocate her lungs, not quite ready to face Paige yet. 

“Oh I don’t think-” Aaliyah tries to cut in, glancing worriedly at her friend but it’s too late. 

“Paige,” Lexie calls out, beaming over Azzi’s head at the Dallas Wings’ newest star point guard. 

The world seems to move in slow motion as Azzi feels Paige getting closer and closer to her. She smells the faint scent of fresh mint weaved with a hint of citrus first. Then she hears the sound of Paige’s breathing, perfectly even to anybody else but Azzi can hear the staggered harshness hidden beneath it. And as the blonde passes over her to settle on Lexi’s other side, she feels Paige’s arm brush against her own and it hurts to breathe. The contact lasts for a second but Azzi swears it’ll last forever, tattooing itself on her bicep as a wretched reminder of a touch she’s no longer allowed to crave. 

It’s funny, there’s a hurricane swirling between them and Paige can barely look at Azzi, keeping her eyes firmly on Lexie and Aaliyah as she greets the trio. And yet, there’s a sense of calm -of peace- that seems to wash over Azzi just by having Paige near her again. The older woman seems to possess some sort of magical power that weaves itself into Azzi’s nervous system, soothing away her frazzled nerves with an unspoken promise of and if you give me the chance i’ll make it all okay. 

Despite the hectic transition from a full college season to a frantic W season, Paige looks ethereal as always. Her two piece cropped vest top and straight fitted pants match the color of her eyes and a silver chain dangles across her chest. Two strands of blonde hair hide her signature diamond studs, the rest of it pulled back into a slightly messy bun. Azzi gulps at the way the vest top parts right above her midriff, Paige’s toned abs playing peek-a-boo behind it. She lets her eyes roam over Paige’s exposed arms, trying to ignore memories of how they used to go taut under her touch, down to the blonde’s bare fingers and she feels her heart constrict. No rings. It feels wrong. But then again, nothing has felt right for three months. 

“Azzi,” Aaliyah hisses and Azzi snaps out of her thoughts, realizing she’d been asked a question. 

“Sorry,” she laughs nervously, moving a strand of her hair out of her face; Paige’s eyes intently following the movement, “what was the question.”

Lexie smiles, “I was just asking about your thoughts on Paige’s amazing rookie year so far?”

“Oh um-” Azzi hesitates, shivers inching up her spine as she feels Paige drinking in the sight of the her body like she's a woman parched, “I’m just-” their eyes lock with each other’s and everything else seems to vanish until it feels like it’s just the two of them floating in between remnants of what they used to be, “I’m just really proud of her. I always knew she’d be amazing. She’s just doing what she always does. Being the best player she can be. So yeah I’m just- I’m just really proud of her.”

And Azzi doesn’t know how they got to this point where Paige seems almost shocked that Azzi could be proud of her, to this point where there’s droplets threatening to spill over both of their water lines and they no longer have the right to wipe each other’s tears away. 

“Aww,” Lexie coos, oblivious to the tension, “well on that sweet note, off y’all go and we’ll see y’all later.”

The walk into the party is kept alive with Aaliyah’s attempt at keeping a conversation going. While Paige tries to at least entertain some of, Azzi finds herself completely zoning out until they finally make their way inside into the cacophony of music and laughter. 

“Y’all wanna get-” Aaliyah begins.

“I see Jewell and Téa,” Paige cuts her off immediately, her legs already moving in a rush, “I’ll see y’all later.”

She gives Aaliyah a tentative grin but barely looks at Azzi as she practically trips over her pant-sleeves trying to get away. It feels like something’s biting against her skin, sharp teeth indenting you did this to yourself as Azzi watches Paige walk away. She watches as the tension slowly leaves the blonde’s muscles as she’s pulled into a hug by Jewell and then by Téa. The fake smile that she’d politely kept on her face the last couple of minutes for the sake of the cameras and reporters is replaced by something far more genuine. Azzi watches as Paige is absorbed into the warmth of the growing crowd, embraced by a league that adores her, and she feels the ice cold pinch of she belongs somewhere without you now start to freeze her own heart. 

***

Azzi’s doing fine. She’s gotten through the night with Aaliyah by her side, making small talk with a bunch of different players and she’s managed to keep a friendly smile the whole time. She’d even danced for a little bit, letting loose with some of the other college basketball players that had made the trip to Indianapolis. Sure, she’d occasionally been distracted by her eyes flickering over to the bar and finding a new pretty influencer batting their fake eyelashes at Paige but really she’s doing fine. Her head’s a little dizzy and maybe the third shot of tequila, influenced by a one leggy brunette that had gotten a little too handsy, wasn’t her brightest decision of the night but really, Azzi’s doing fine. 

Until she’s not. 

And it’s Paige's fault. She had to know that it would be Azzi’s last straw. She had to know that Azzi could live with watching a thousand girls flirt with Paige as long as the blonde in question stood rigidly by the bar doing nothing but smiling politely at them. She had to know that Azzi, after having spent most of their college life watching girls fawn over her girlfriend, could deal with the flirty hands that lingered just a little too long on Paige’s bicep. But it’s when Paige leans into this one girl -whose dark curls and tanned caramel skin are just a little too reminiscent of her own- when Paige’s lips graze just a little to close this one girl’s ear, that Azzi realizes she’s decidedly not fine. 

“I need some air,” she manages to bite out, ignoring Aaliyah’s concerned look as she marches out the back door, heading towards the deck. 

Azzi buries her face in her hands as she leans back against the brick wall. She knows she’s being unfair; knows she has absolutely no right to feel this way but something burns within her anyways and the light breeze does nothing to cool it down. 

“I’m not cheating on you,” a harsh voice interrupts her pity party and Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, “We’re not together and I can flirt or kiss or fuck-” she flinches, “anyone if I want to.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Paige’s voice is laced with accusation, “because the way you just stormed out says otherwise.”

Azzi continues to keep her head in her palms, refusing to look at the blonde, “it’s hot and stuffy in there. I just needed some fresh air.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of lying,” Paige spits out. 

“Well what do you want me to say instead?” Azzi finally looks up, her even cadence in stark contrast to Paige’s fiery tone, “I know we’re not together-”

“Because that’s what you wanted-”

“I know,” Azzi yells, and then quieter, “I know. I know I- I know I did this. But that- that doesn’t make it any easier to see you with someone else,” she swallows, “doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

Paige scoffs, rubbing her face as she begins to pace, “you miss me? I was at Mohegan when y’all had summer camp. The whole team showed up to the game except for you and you want me to believe that you miss me?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me there,” Azzi confesses in a whisper, “you were so mad at me after-after everything- and I just- I didn’t want to ruin coming back to Connecticut for you.”

“For me,” Paige lets out a laugh devoid of any emotion, “god Azzi there you go again with this fake ‘selfless’ bullshit.”

A thousand and one retorts die on the tip of Azzi’s tongue as she shakes her head and pushes herself off the wall. She can smell the alcohol on Paige, can tell the blonde is itching for an argument but all she feels is pure exhaustion. 

 “I don’t wanna fight Paige. I’m tired and I just-” she bites her lip, fighting the urge to caress Paige’s cheek, “believe it or don’t but- I really do miss you.”

Sparks of electricity dance their way through Azzi’s veins when Paige curls a hand around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks from going inside. And suddenly she doesn’t feel so cold anymore. 

“Dance with me,” Paige whispers. 

“What?” 

Paige shrugs, tugging on Azzi’s hand to pull her closer, “you said you don’t wanna fight and I- I don’t want you to go,” the confession hangs between them as Paige’s hands fall to Azzi’s waist, “so- let’s just- let’s pretend.”

“What are we pretending?” Azzi asks quietly and despite the warnings ringing in her head, she wraps her arms around Paige’s neck. It feels like coming home. 

“We’re pretending that we’re okay,” Paige says softly, holding Azzi’s hips as she begins to sway them gently, “we’re pretending that three months ago you said yes.”

“Paige-”

“Close your eyes Azzi,” the blond waves her hand gently across Azzi’s face, willing both of their eyelids to flutter shut, “we’re pretending that we’re not here- we’re in Minnesota or DC or I don’t know just- anywhere. And our families are here, laughing and talking and some sappy romantic song is playing. It's the best day of our lives and we’re both- we're both dressed in white-”

“Paige,” Azzi lets out a sob, as she begins to understand the picture Paige is painting for them; a picture drawn on a canvas that Azzi had torn up before any color could touch it

“Sshhhh just- let me have this okay,” Paige’s voice trembles as she leans her forehead against Azzi’s, “if I can’t have it for real, please just let me pretend.”

If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Azzi would fight Paige’s tightening grip. If they were both just a little bit more sober, maybe Paige would let go. Instead Azzi lets Paige play pretend, lets them keep their bodies pressed against each other, moving from side to side in rhythm with the wind. 

It isn’t until she hears footsteps approaching them that Azzi hurriedly moves away first and she can see the betrayal of if only you’d just let me hold you in front of the world written all over Paige’s face. They’re both quick to swap their tears for smiles that don’t reach their eyes as they turn to face the intruders. And Azzi wonders if Paige wishes she’d drank a little bit more too. Because maybe if they were both just a little more drunk, then tomorrow they wouldn’t have to remember just how right it had felt to play pretend tonight. 

April 2033 

“You look so pretty Mama,” Stephie gushes from where she’s perched on the bed as she watches Azzi put the finishing touches to her makeup

“Thanks baby,” Azzi smiles, blowing a kiss in the mirror. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie flips the running facetime call, skipping over to her mother with the phone in her hand, “doesn’t Mama look beautiful?”

Sixteen years later, and maybe it’s because of all the time they’d missed in between, but Azzi can’t help the bout of shyness that flushes across her features when Stephie places the phone, Paige’s face illuminated all over it, against the mirror so the blonde can get a proper look at Azzi’s outfit.

“You look-” Paige clears her throat, eyes dilated as they rake over Azzi’s whole body, “you look phenomenal.”

“Big word Bueckers,” Azzi teases, trying to disguise her blush, “did you just learn it?”

Paige rolls her eyes, “can’t even give you a compliment without an insult Fudd.”

“You guys argue too much,” Stephie says exasperatedly, shaking her head at the two adults who laugh. The younger girl sometimes seems far wise beyond her age. 

“We’re not arguing Stephie, we’re just-” Azzi struggles to think of a word. 

“Foreplaying,” Paige mutters under her breath and Azzi immediately glares at her. 

“Paige!”

Stephie scrunches up her nose at the screen, “what does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Azzi says shrilly, “Miss Buecks is just making up words.”

“Why would Miss Buecks do that?” Stephie asks, looking back and forth between her mother and the screen. 

“Why does Miss Buecks do anything,” Azzi babbles, as she begins to usher Stephie out of her room, “go grab your things Stephie-bean. Mama’s almost ready to drop you off at Nana and Pop’s house.”

Stephie pouts, “I wanna go to the party with you and Miss Buecks. It’s no fair you both get to go and I don’t,” she picks up the phone, looking at Paige with wide guilt-tripping eyes, “don’t you love me Miss Buecks?”

Azzi has to hand it to her daughter. She’s a smart one to choose Paige as the victim of her emotional blackmail, knowing her wiles had long stopped working on her mother. 

“You know I’d take you with me if I could Stephie,” Paige says, “but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow I swear.”

Stephie smiles and Azzi shakes her head at how quickly the five-year old’s plan had worked, “you’ll take me to the park and then we’ll get fries and then get ice cream?”

“That’s a lot of junk food Steph-”

“Ssshh Mama,” Stephie chides, “this is between me and Miss Buecks.”

“The park, then fries, then ice cream it is,” Paige concedes and Azzi rolls her eyes. 

Stephie grins brightly, puckering her lips to kiss Paige through the phone and eliciting a laugh from the older woman when she cheers, “you’re the best-est-est Miss Buecks. See you in a little bit. Don’t hang up without saying goodnight.”

“I promise I won’t,” Paige calls out after the little girl as Stepehie hands the phone back to Azzi and starts skipping towards her room. 

Azzi gives the blonde a look, “we have got to have a conversation about you learning to say no to her.”

Paige shrugs unhelpfully, “I don’t want to learn how to say no to her.”

“You’re a lost cause,” Azzi remarks, hands on hips, “and foreplay? Seriously? Us bickering is not foreplay.”

“Well it could be if you’d just let me fuck you after,” Paige grumbles and Azzi’s mouth falls open at the bluntness of it. 

“You say the most romantic things to me Paige Bueckers.”

They’re both quiet for a second as Azzi moves around her room, collecting her wallet and keys and to put into her purse. 

“You know there’s still time for me to come pick you up,” Paige says finally.

“Paige,” Azzi sighs, not wanting a rerun of the same argument they’ve been having for the last week. She knows it’s a touchy subject for Paige; that it veers a little too close to insecurities that stem from their past but she’s not quite ready to take this step yet. There isn’t quite any rhyme or reason to her logic except well, she’s haunted by memories of the last time they’d let the personal mix with the professional. Her phone still holds invitations to countless team reunions that she’d actively avoided and a group chat that she’s long muted. Azzi hasn’t stepped foot in the state of Connecticut since she’d entered the draft; she refuses to lose California too. 

“Teammates can carpool,” Paige explains vehemently, “it’s easily explainable.’

“I know-”

“Is this about Clémence?” bitterness tinges the edge of Paige’s voice as she chews her bottom lip. And there it is, the other subject they’d been tip-toeing around since it had been brought up at breakfast a week ago. Paige and Azzi are both excellent at avoiding talking about the harder topics but they’ve never quite managed to let anything go forever. 

“Why would this be about Clémence?” 

Paige narrows her eyes, sitting up from where she’d previously been lounging against her pillow, “maybe you don’t want her to see us together? Maybe you’re trying to spare her feelings I don’t know.”

“Paige-”

“You know what it’s fine,” Paige huffs, “I’ll see you at the bar Azzi.”

She hangs up before Azzi can say anything and the brunette lets out a litany of curses under her breath, annoyed with Paige’s ability to go from A to Z by skipping everything in between. There’s a part of her that knows Paige deserves an explanation about Clémence, a chance to have her lingering doubts confirmed or denied, but amidst the egoistic thoughts of well she married someone else and the self preservationist urge to prevent a potential fight, she hadn’t been brave enough to approach the topic just quite yet. Azzi’s about to step out of the room, when her phone pings with a facetime call from Paige again. 

“Are you calling to apologize for hanging up?” Azzi asks with a frown. 

“No,” Paige replies stubbornly, “I called because I hung up without saying goodnight to Stephie and just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I’m gonna miss saying goodnight to her.”

Something wonderful and warm blooms in Azzi’s chest as she silently walks over to Stephie’s room. This is a new chapter in Paige’s storybook that she’s slowly beginning to read; one scribbled with the blonde’s devotion to Azzi’s baby girl. Azzi still has every other chapter memorized; had thought nothing could be more beautiful than the words within the one that had been dedicated to her. But she’d been wrong. Because every day that she watches Paige and Stephie fall more and more in love with each other, she finds herself falling in love with how much they love each other. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, practically snatching the phone from her mother’s hand as she goofily grins at the screen, “you didn’t hang up.”

“I promised I wouldn’t,” Paige says, the hardness that had existed in her voice while talking to Azzi, dissolving into adulation, “you be good for Nana and Pops okay?”

“I’m always good,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, “can you come over really, really, early tomorrow?”

Paige laughs, “I’ll be there as soon as I wake up.”

“Good,” Stephie claps contentedly as she grabs Azzi’s hand to start walking towards the car, “good night Miss Buecks.”

“Good night Stephie-bean,” Paige echoes, blowing a kiss through the screen. 

“Paige,” Azzi says urgently, trying to stop the older woman from hanging up, “can you just hold on a second while I buckle Stephie in.”

“Az-”

“Please.”

“Fine,” Paige says, averting Azzi’s gaze as she sulks. 

Azzi lifts Stephie onto the car seat, fastening her seatbelt and pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek, before she closes the car door and uses it as a stabilizing structure to lean on as she pulls her phone back in front of her. 

“Hey,” she whispers. 

“Hi,” Paige says back begrudgingly, “you wanted to say something?”

“I-” Azzi swallows, “don’t go the bar-”

“Oh fantastic,” Paige cuts her off, her voice furious as she glares daggers at Azzi through the phone, “not only do you not want to go to the bar together, you don’t want me to go at all. Fine. Okay. Whatever. I won’t go. You have the time of your life with fucking Clementine or whatever-”

“Yet,” Azzi says loudly, trying to speak over Paige’s angry rant, “don’t go to the bar yet.”

“What?” 

Azzi licks her lips, “don’t go yet. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents-”

“What does that have to-”

“Will you just let me fucking finish?” Azzi almost bangs her fist on the car in frustration and she’s glad to see that it makes Paige look just a little bit sheepish, “as I was saying. I’m gonna drop Stephie off at my parents and uh- your house- it’s um- it’s on the way to the bar so I thought,” she shrugs with fake nonchalance, the edge of her mouth turning upwards, “I thought maybe- maybe I could pick you up on the way.”

Paige stares blankly at the screen, eyes blinking as Azzi’s words slowly register, “you- you wanna go to the bar together?”

“I didn’t say that,” Azzi teases, eyes twinkling as she basks in the thrill of eliciting that Azzi smile from Paige’s lips, “teammates carpool right?”

“Teammates definitely carpool.”

April 2029 

“You invited Clémence to our movie night?” Jana asks in a whisper, as she walks into the kitchen where Azzi’s making popcorn. Her Saturday nights have gotten rather boring since she’s had Stephie, consisting of alternating between movie nights with Jana and dinner with her parents. It wasn’t the most thrilling of times but she looked forward to them all week, excited to not have to spend a night in solitude.

“She asked what I was doing tonight and I told her we were having a movie night and then she asked if she could join and well I couldn’t just say no,” Azzi explains, sticking the bag into the microwave. 

Jana cocks an eyebrow, “do you want me to leave?”

“Why would I want you to leave?” Azzi asks, crinkling her nose as she juts out an ear just in case the baby monitor goes off. 

“C’mon Az,” Jana says pointedly, leaning on her elbows against the kitchen counter, “you’re telling me there’s nothing going on between the two of you?”

Azzi grimaces uneasily, not quite wanting to answer the question, “nothing that would require you to leave.”

“If that’s the way you want to play it,” Jana relents, grabbing a soda from the fridge on her way back to the living room, before she pauses in the doorway to look back at Azzi, “but I know what it looks like when somebody’s in love with you. And that girl out there,” she nods her head towards where Clémence is daintily sitting on the couch, “she’s definitely getting there.”

Jana’s a rather observant person but Azzi knows that she’s at least a little bit wrong this time. Because Clémence might be a little bit in love with -even if that’s not a fact Azzi particularly wants to acknowledge- but it's impossible for her to look at Azzi the way Jana remembers someone else looking at her. That had been something completely different; a gaze that saw all the little chinks in her armor, all the imperfections carved against her walls and loved her inspite of them, maybe even because of them. Clémence might love her, but Azzi doesn’t think anyone can be in love with her the way the person she’d been hopelessly in love with, had. 

When she walks back into the living room with the popcorn in hand, still plagued by her younger teammate’s words, Azzi’s deliberate to sit on the couch next to Jana instead of the open space next to the francophone. The flash of hurt in Clémence’s eye causes guilt to trickle down her spine but Azzi thinks a flash is better than the tsunami of pain she could cause if she doesn’t start to ease herself out of this right now. There’s a selfish part of her that doesn’t want to, that’s going to miss having somebody who hangs onto her every word. Azzi likes this feeling of being wanted, even if it’s not by the person she wants. But that person isn’t hers to want anymore and she won’t torture Clémence by barricading her in the same jail that has held Azzi’s soul captive for the last four years. 

They’re about half way through the movie, awkward tension eased by Jana’s incessant chatter, when Azzi’s phone buzzes. Already confused at the timing of the call, she’s even more perplexed to see Ice’s name flashing on the screen. 

“Oooh Iceyyy,” Jana’s eyes light up when she catches a glimpse of the CallerID, “put her on speaker. Ice is one of our UConn teammates,” she explains, turning to Clémence who nods in recognition, “she probably did something dumb as fuck and need Azzi’s advice.”

“Don’t be mean,” Azzi scolds with a grin, knowing that Jana’s probably right as she picks up the call, “hello-”

“I hate you,” Azzi freezes at the sound of the familiar voice, laced with unfamiliar malice. Next to her Jana stiffens immediately while Clémence observes the scene in front of her with a guarded frown. 

“Paige who the fuck are you calling?” Ice’s voice is muffled in the background, “oh shit, Paige give me back my phone.”

“No. She needs to hear this,” Paige grits out, her pitch wavering with the effects of alcohol, “she needs to hear how much I fucking hate her. Azzi do you hear me? I can hear you breathing. I know you’re there. Did you hear what I said?”

“Paige,” Ice hisses again. 

Azzi swallows the lump in her throat, fingers digging into her bare thighs as she grips her phone so hard, she half-expects it to break into pieces in a reflection of her heart, “I heard you Paige.”

“Good. Because I do. I really fucking hate you,” Paige repeats again and Azzi flinches, “you ruined me Azzi. And now you’re ruining my marriage. My wife is perfect. She loves me. She loves being seen with me. She loves being known as my wife. Everything I ever wanted from you, she’s willing to give me. But she saw that damn hug at the Olympics and she- she’s upset with me. She thinks- she thinks I’m not over you.”

“Az maybe you should-” Jana says softly but Azzi immediately raises a hand to stop her. Maybe she’s a masochist but she can hear the hurt laced underneath the anger in Paige's voice. And if what Paige needs to get rid of her pain is a target to aim all her arrows at, then Azzi’s willing to sacrifice her heart, or at least what little is still left of it. 

“And the worst thing about it,” Paige’s voice breaks, “is that she's probably right. I have the perfect fucking woman at home and I can’t seem to get over the one who broke my heart and never looked back. Isn’t that pathetic?”

“Paige,” Ice pleads again and Azzi can hear her former teammate trying her best to wrangle the phone out of Paige’s firm grasp. 

“I’m not done yet Ice. I need to talk to her and I need to talk to her now because if I don’t, I’ll never get the courage to say any of this again,” Paige is sobbing now, and her broken whimpers pierce Azzi’s heart deeper than any words could,  “why couldn’t you just have said yes Az? I know- I know your reasons but why- why couldn’t you have just loved me enough to look past them? How do you do it Azzi? How do you live without me because it’s been four years and I- I still don’t think I know how to live without you and I hate you, I hate you because you do.”

No, Azzi thinks, I really don’t. But she doesn’t say anything, rapidly blinking back tears as she avoids both Jana’s concerned look and Clémence’s more thoughtful gaze. 

“I wish I could just feel nothing towards you Azzi,” Paige confesses, heaving as she struggles to breathe through her tears, “I don’t want to hate you. I don’t want to miss you and I really- I really, really don’t want to love you. Please just make it stop. I’m so tired of this Azzi. I’m so tired of hurting. How do I make it go away? Please tell me how I make it go away? How did you make it go away?”

“I didn’t,” Azzi whispers, so soft she’s not sure Paige heard it; she’s not sure if she wants Paige to have heard it. It’s the kind of pain, she thinks, she’s destined to feel forever. It’s weaved itself into every crevice of body and now it exists as just another innate part of her. Paige thinks Azzi’s learned to live without her but really all Azzi’s learned is how to live with these permanent scars of i think i’ll miss you forever. 

“That’s enough Paige,” Ice’s voice is clearer now, having finally snatched the phone out of her teammate’s grip, “Azzi-” she begins apologetically, “she’s just drunk. She didn’t mean-”

“She did,” Azzi clears her throat, sinking into the way Jana's arms wrap around her, “she’s um- she’s gonna be really hungover in the morning. Make sure she- make sure you give her water but don’t- don’t give her coffee. She’ll want it but it’ll only make it worse because she uh- she- when she drinks too much, her stomach hurts and the caffeine- it just- it makes it worse so- don’t let her drink coffee tomorrow morning okay? And make sure- make sure she eats something before she takes painkillers. And Ice?’

“Yeah Azzi.”

“If she doesn’t remember any of this tomorrow morning, please don’t remind her.”

***

April 2033

The bar is buzzing with noise by the time Paige and Azzi finally arrive. It’s an exclusive enough place that they won’t be too bothered by fans asking for pictures and autographs but the size of the crowd still puts Azzi a little bit on edge. She can’t help the small smile that flitters across her face when she feels Paige’s hand resting on her lower back as the blonde guides the two of them through the crowd in search of their teammates. For the last eight years, Azzi has been her own protector and she’s learned to guard herself but it’s nice -it feels right- to have someone else ready to be her shield too. 

“You know Bueckers,” Joyce says as the two of them finally approach the table that had been reserved for the Valkyries, “some might say that one should be on time when meeting their new teammates. Just a thought.”

“And some might say Edwards that being fashionably late is being on time,” Paige quips back. 

Joyce grins, “alright time for introductions.”

“I’m pretty sure I know-”

“Shut up,” Joyce reprimands, throwing an arm around Paige’s shoulders, “let me introduce these brand new people to you.”

“They’re not-”

“Sssshhh. Let me have my fun. We’ll start over here with Westbeld and Booker. You might know them, their teams kicked your ass during the 23-24 season,” Joyce says with a smirk. 

“Oh I do remember that,” Paige says thoughtfully, eyes twinkling with mirth, “what happened the season after?”

“Don’t be cocky Bueckers. It’s unbecoming,” Madison chides as she rises from the table to give Paige a hug. 

“Yeah I try not to remember that Elite Eight game thanks,” Laila says, making a disgusted face. 

Joyce glares at her, “did I introduce you yet Miss Phelia?”

Laila raises her hands in surrender as Joyce continues to give Paige a tour of the Valkyrie team. Azzi had known that Paige would fit in well with her teammate -really the blonde had the uncanny ability to fit in anywhere- but seeing it realized in front of her, it seems even clearer. Paige feels like the last mosaic piece, slotting in right where she belongs. 

“Those two over there are our babies,” Joyce points to Haylen and Jayla, “they’re like five years old but we love them anyways.”

“I’m almost 25,” Haylen protests. 

“See,” Joyce remarks, “literally children. And that one,” she points to Jana who beams at Paige, “well you already know her even if you sometimes wish you didn’t probably-”

“Hey!”

“Oh shush Jana,” Joyce says airily, “and I supposed there’s no point in introducing Azzi to you since y’all came together,” she pauses to look between them, “y’all don’t live that close to each other. Why didn’t you just carpool with Jana? I’m pretty sure she lives closer to you.”

Paige opens and closes her mouth a couple of times as Azzi feels her own cheeks heat up at the innocent enough question, “we um- well it's just- you see- my house is on the way from her parents and she had to drop off Stephie so it just- it just made sense you know? For efficiency’s sake.”

“Oh yeah for efficiency’s sake. They’re both very efficient,” Jana smirks, “makes a lot of sense.”

Joyce gives all three of them a weird look, “y’all Huskies are strange. It was just a question but anyways,” she grins as she finally steers Paige towards the blonde in the corner and Azzi stiffens at the way Paige’s body immediately tenses, “a couple of our teammates aren’t here but we do have a former teammate. Paige meet Clémence.”

“We’ve met,” Paige says, attempting to school her features to resemble anything but the discomfort she’s feeling within, “during the Olympics that is. We’ve beat France a couple of times.”

It’s a purposeful word choice, beat instead of played and Azzi's fingers fidget with the hem of her top as she tries to avoid looking at either of the two women. 

“Yes. It is good to see you again,” Clémence says tersely, her French accent stronger than the last time Azzi had spoken to her. She shakes Paige’s hand rather formally before her eyes focus on Azzi and she determinedly walks towards the brunette, “and it is really good to see you Azzi. I have missed you.”

“I-” Azzi stutters at the French woman pulls her into a hug; over her shoulder she can practically see steam coming out of Paige’s ears as she hyper focuses on how Clémence makes it a point rub her thumb down Azzi’s back, “it’s um- it’s good to see you too.”

She pulls away and she can feel the disappointment reverberating from Clémence’s body as Azzi practically flings herself on the chair next to Jana, wondering what she’d done to deserve this moment as a punishment for her sins. 

“Save me,” she pleads as Clémence and Paige sit as far away from each other as possible, occasionally shooting glares when they think the other isn’t looking. 

“Save you from having two hot women fighting over you?” the center teases, “you truly have such first world problems Azzi Fudd.”

“They’re not fighting over me-”

“Azzi you will have your usual rum and coke no?” Clémence asks and Azzi looks over to where the francophone is intently staring at her, “I will go-”

“Oh there’s no need,” Paige says immediately, “you sit Clémence. You already have a drink. I was gonna go get one for myself and I’ll get Azzi’s too. Besides, Azzi's more of a fruity drink girl. Az I’ll get you a piña colada-”

Clémence narrows her eyes, “maybe she liked that when she was in college but Azzi likes something different now.”

“She might like something different now,” Paige counters, standing up aggressively so she towers over the table, “but she’s always gonna love a piña colada right Azzi?”

All eyes turn to look at Azzi who wants nothing more than to cower under the table- or hit Jana who seems to find this very unamusinging situation rather entertaining, “I um-” she swallows, “I think tonight calls for something stronger. Round of shots for the table? On me?”

It placates the situation for a while as the rest of the team cheers on the idea, beckoning over one of the bartenders to orders a round of tequila shots for the table. For a moment, Azzi tricks herself into thinking maybe that’ll be the end of ridiculous situations for the night as the team downs shots to Jana yelling “to the Valkyries” but she should have known it was wishful thinking.

Half the team ends up on the dance floor, swaying to the mixed rhythm of the music and the newly minted alcohol coursing through their bloodstreams. Azzi watches with a smile as despite her protests, Joyce manages to drag Paige onto the dance floor with her, engaging her in some eccentric dance moves as they try to outdo each other on who can look the silliest. And as the rest of the girls cheer the blonde on, it feels like Paige is chiseling out a place for herself in another part of Azzi’s world. 

“She is easy to love,” Clémence’s hot breath fans Azzi’s ear as the francophone takes Jana’s empty seat next to the brunette. 

“Clém-” Azzi sighs. 

“She fits in well with the team,” Clémence continues, something wistful in her voice, “I have seen her play. She will fit in well on the court with you guys as well. She will fit in well next to you.”

“That’s the hope,” Azzi says softly as she tilts her head to look at the other woman, “you fit in well too. I mean it Clém. We’ll miss you at GSV.”

Clémence smiles bitterly, “I would have liked to stay but they needed the cap space so they could sign her. She- she’s quite expensive. I mean considering she is casually wearing swarovski crystals on her neck in a bar on a random Saturday night, I am not surprised.”

The two of them laugh despite the gravity that looms heavily over them. Azzi and Clémence haven’t been anything in a long time but she’d never quite shut the possibility of a potential future done. She can hear the lock ready to click now. It’s bittersweet doing the right thing but as Paige glances over from the dancefloor, eyes darting cautiously between the two of them, Azzi knows that she doesn’t want to keep any other doors open. Not when the one with Paige’s name etched on the door handle, leads to home. 

“One last dance?” Clémence asks softly, holding out her hand. 

Azzi hesitates, knowing that it would irritate Paige but she thinks she probably owes Clémence this and so she smiles and takes the francophone’s outstretched hand as they join their other teammates. It’s nothing beyond friendly and they both keep their hands to themselves as they sway to the music, but Azzi can feel the annoyance radiating off of Paige from across the dancefloor. She would never admit it, perhaps it’s a little toxic of her, but there’s a certain thrill to making Paige jealous. There’s something about the way the blonde’s blue eyes flare with ice cold envy, the way her jaw hardens as she grinds her teeth. The way she looks at Azzi like if she had her way she’d drag the brunette out of the bar and mark her with a possessive you’re mine you’re mine youre mine. It makes Azzi clench her thighs together as she tries to focus on Clémence. 

“I understand now,” the francophone says thoughtfully as Azzi’s peers up at her in confusion, “when you told me that you could not be with me. I get it.”

“I don’t-”

“You are here with me but you aren’t actually. You will always be with her,” Clémence tilts her head towards Paige, “you always have been. I understand now,” she says again simply before her face hardens, “even after all those words she said to you on the phone that night.”

Azzi’s stomach curls at the reminder. She knows exactly what night Clémence is referring to. Sometimes when she closes her eyes, it’s those words, coated in anger and malice, that shower around her like acid rain, seeping into her skin and infecting her bloodstream.

“I told you, you deserved better,” Clémence says and Azzi gulps, “but you said- you said you deserved worse. I hope you don’t believe that anymore Azzi. Just because you hurt her doesn’t mean you need to let her hurt you too.”

“I-” Azzi’s cut off by a hard body ramming into her own and she feels herself going stumbling back into the unwanted arms of a random man, “I’m sorry,” she says tersely, struggling to get out his grip. 

“No worries pretty girl,” he says toothily, the heavy stench of alcohol in his breath making Azzi feel nauseous, “but now that you’re here, how about I buy you a drink.”

“No thank you,” Azzi says sternly, trying to push the man away but he’s relentless. 

“Aw c’mon don’t be like that sweetheart,” the term of endearment sounds like an insult falling from his lips and Azzi loses her patience, stomping her heel into the man’s foot to finally free herself from his grip and he yelps in surprise.

“I said no thank you.”

“What the fuck,” the man spits out, standing up as Azzi takes a step back. He’s got some muscle and although, despite his bravado, she knows she’s strong enough to take him, she’d rather not create a scene. Her plan is to walk away. Paige seems to have other ideas, suddenly materializing in between Azzi and the man, a furious look on her face as she squares him up. 

“Do we have a problem?” the blonde asks menacingly. 

“Nothing other than your little friend here being a fucking bitch.”

Paige’s eyes darken as she takes a threatening step towards him, prevented from going further only by the way Azzi immediately laces a hand around her wrist, “what the fuck did you call her?”

“I called her a-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azzi cuts in, stepping in between a glaring Paige and a man who’s clearly underestimating her strength, “let it go Paige.”

“Yeah,” the man mocks, “let it go Paige.”

“You fucking-” Paige tries to lunge at him but Azzi’s quick to shove her back gently. 

“Don’t cause a scene,” she warns. 

“Azzi-”

“Paige please.”

“Holy shit,” the man wolf-whistles, “y’all play for the Valks. You’re Azzi Fudd. I know you.”

“Good for you,” Azzi spits out at him before turning her attention back to Paige, who looks like she could kill the man if given the chance, “c’mon let's go back to our tab-”

“It’s funny you’re acting like such a fucking prude when you have a bastard chi-”

An unmistakable crunch rings out through the bar as the man goes flying backwards. Azzi’s knuckles are bleeding as her breath comes out in ragged huffs. She hadn’t wanted to cause a scene; could have walked away from a man being a drunken idiot, could have walked away from being called a bitch or hell, even something worse. But the man had attacked the one part of her that she’d always be ready to go to war for. He’d brought up Stephie and she’d seen red. Her fist had moved of it's own accord.

Paige doesn’t say anything and Azzi can feel the anger still vibrating from the older woman’s body as she roughly grabs Azzi’s unhurt hand.

“Let’s go,” the blonde’s voice is eerily low, “we’re going home.”

***

It’s a subconscious choice to let Paige drive Azzi’s car even though they’ve both sobered up considerably, not that one shot had done much in the first place. It’s a subconscious choice that Azzi reaches over to lace her fingers through Paige’s free hand, resting it on her lap, as the blonde use her other hand to grip the steering wheel. It’s a subconscious choice that they end up driving to Azzi’s house in complete silence. She’s not sure who’s mad at who, if they’re even mad at each other or that man or just the world but she can feel the fury suffocating the air. 

“Where’s your first-aid kit?” Paige says gruffly as Azzi unlocks the door. 

“Bathroom,” Azzi says quietly and Paige is off towards it before the word has even fully left the brunette’s mouth. Azzi scrambles after her, pausing in the doorway as Paige rummages through drawers, knowing better than to interrupt to help when Paige looks livid like this.

“Sit,” Paige points to the sink once she’s finally found the sanitizer and gauze to clean up dried up blood staining Azzi’s knuckles. 

“I can do it my-”

Paige glares at her, “just sit on the fucking sink Azzi.”

Putting away her own irritation at being told what to do, Azzi lifts herself onto the flat surface of the sink, opening her legs slightly so that Paige can stand between them. Despite still quivering with barely concealed rage, Paige’s touch is gentle as she dabs at the remnants of red liquid on Azzi’s hand. 

“You should’ve just let me punch him when I wanted to,” she says finally. 

“So you could be the one bleeding?” Azzi raises an eyebrow. 

“No because he would’ve never gotten the courage to say shit about Stephie if you’d just let me kill him when he called you a bitch,” Paige bites out venomously. 

“And let you go to jail? I couldn’t do that to Stephie,” Azzi tries to lighten the tension in the room, “she’d miss you too much. 

“This isn’t funny, Azzi,” Paige seethes as she begins to wrap the white gauze around the wound. 

“I know,” the younger woman says, trailing her other hand down Paige’s arms trying to soothe her anger, “but it’s fine-”

“It’s not fucking fine,” Paige yells. 

“Baby-” the word slips out from Azzi’s lips before she can catch it. She hasn’t used it for someone other than Stephie in so long that it feels foreign on her lips and yet, it fits exactly right. 

“Did you call Clémence that too?” and there it is, the real reason behind the volcano erupting as Paige decidedly looks away from Azzi. 

Azzi narrows her eyes, “I don’t know Paige. Did you call Olivia that?”

“That’s different,” Paige grits out, “Olivia was my wife.”

Azzi flinches at the word; hates that somebody else had ever had the honor of being called that even if she knows it’s unfair of her to feel that way when she’s the one that had turned it down first. 

“Exactly,” she says slowly, “you married someone else-” she holds up a hand when Paige protests, “I know. I know I said no but you married someone else Paige. So you don’t get to be mad at me for having something with someone else too.”

Paige is quiet for a moment and Azzi sees the exact moment the fight leaves her body as she lets out a sigh, leaning her head against Azzi’s shoulder. 

“You’re right,” Paige whispers into Azzi’s neck, hands moving to rest against the brunette’s thighs. 

Azzi runs her hand through Paige’s hair, brushing it in tandem with the harmony of her breathing, “we can’t keep throwing the past in each other’s face, Paige.”

“I know,” Paige breath tickles against Azzi’s skin and she shivers in spite of the tense moment,“I just-” the blonde lifts her head to look at Azzi, “I need to know who Clémence was to you. You- you know what Olivia was to me and I- I just need to know the same about Clémence.”

“She-” Azzi hesitates, “we hooked up a couple of times,” she squeezes Paige’s hand when the blonde flinches, “but then she- she wanted more but I couldn’t- I couldn’t do that. Partly because I didn’t- I didn’t feel the same- don’t look so smug,” Azzi chides when a small grin forms on Paige’s face, “and partly because we were on the same team. I didn’t want to complicate things, not like last time. Feel like I should probably have a rule not to date teammates.”

“Right.”

Azzi watches the cogs turning in Paige’s brain and she reaches out a hand to ease the creases forming on her forehead, “what are you thinking Bueckers?”

“I just-” Paige bites her lip, “what about me?”

“What about you?”

“I mean we’re gonna be- I mean we are- we’re on the same team too,” Paige says and Azzi can hear the insecurity of will you leave me again weaved through her voice. 

“You don’t get it yet do you,” Azzi whispers, reaching up to cup Paige’s face, “baby you are the exception to all of my rules.”

[anxious-witch]

I know, I know we talked about the forest scene with Monty, Edwin and the Cat King to death. But, but. Hear me out.

Edwin was ready to both forgive Monty and thank the Cat King right then and there if they didn't push him, aka crossed a line in the sand for him.

When the Cat King initially informs him of Monty's betrayal, this is Edwin's reaction:

He looks confused, he looks hurt. But he doesn't look angry. Not yet. When he says "Were you just pretending to be my friend" he sounds hurt, but when he sees how Monty is affected, he still looks oddly touched. Especially when Monty says: "At first, yes! Then...no."

I know we joke about Edwin being awful at reading people, but Monty is obviously distressed and Edwin reacts to it. Besides, Monty is his friend. He wants to believe it wasn't all a ploy. But then, Monty makes a fatal mistake and brings up Charles. Immediately, Edwin's expression falls and then it turns angry and says: "Even if it were true, you are a bloody crow!"

We see Edwin forgive Simon, his killer, the person who was responsible for sending him to Hell, in mere minutes, once he finds out why Simon did it. I don't believe for a second he wouldn't have forgiven Monty in a heartbeat if Monty properly explained himself, instead of falling back to his hurt feelings and in turn, trying to hurt Edwin the same way by bringing up Charles. Which is a shame, because they really could have used each other's help.

As for the Cat King, I think it's a very similar story too!

Immediately after Monty walks away, Edwin closes his eyes and says: "I am such an idiot." And the Cat King nods, but you can already see most of the anger Edwin held towards Monty dispersing.

When the Cat King stops him from leaving and says: "I came all the way into this ridiculous forest to save you, I think I am at least owed a thank you," Edwin doesn't seem mad. I'd even go as far as to describe his expression as soft surprise. I think he is thankful, in that moment. And why wouldn't he be? The Cat King did save him from a trap.

It's only when the Cat King brings up a second kiss, implying he should thank him by kissing him, does Edwin grow angry again.

Also, importantly, the way Edwin pushes the Cat King away is almost gentle. Bitchy, and pissed off, for sure, but also gentle. Like, if it was someone who I genuinely didn't want anwhere near me, I'd shove them away by the shoulders, and with much more force. And sure! Edwin isn't a type for violence, but c'mon. We know he is capable if pressed, as seen when Esther hurt Charles.

Edwin keeps his anger tightly locked, only letting it out through his words. He practically spits out "I am not your toy to yank around." But even so, the only tense action we see from his is the way he cocks his head and demingly looks thr Cat King up and down.

Only after the Cat King threatens him, does Edwin get up in his personal space and almost violently(by his standards) shows him the bracelet, saying "This is all that you are. Do you understand?"

My point is, if both the Cat King and Monty essentially told/showed Edwin their actions are somehow tied into his reciprocation of his feelings. Funnily, enough, I feel like if either of them didn't base this interaction on that, and instead rather connected with Edwin emotionally, they would have had a shot at getting exactly what they wanted that night. Monty, Edwin's forgivness and the Cat King, Edwin's thankfulness, perhaps even a sense that he owes him, next time they see each other.

Which is great! Because it shows us sm about the characters, their flaws, and their priorities! But yeah. Talking about shooting themselves in the foot.

I also think that, for all we joke around Edwin holding grudges, he is actually incredible in how quickly he forgives people, as soon as they show the skightest initative for change/goodwill. Part of me hopes he and Monty meet again, just so Edwin can understand his pov, the same way he understood Simon and thr Cat King's but alas. I suppose we'll see

[secriden]

I thought I was done talking about Style in THK's episode 2, but jokes on me, no I'm not.

I keep thinking about Style and Bison's first interaction and how pure and sweet it was. In the middle of the mess that is this 4-way whirlwind of lies and deception, it felt like a refreshingly honest conversation between two people who are only accidentally lying to each other.

Style seems incredibly earnest when he tells Bison that Kant is "down bad" for him. It doesn't feel like Style is 'wingmanning' Kant here; or if he is, it isn't meant to be malicious or to mislead Bison. It feels like someone being friendly with his bff's crush and hoping that they can get along because he thinks this one's going to stick around.

Similarly, when Bison tells Style to go for Fadel for real, it feels very honest and earnest. Setting aside whatever games Bison is playing with Kant, Bison seems to genuinely want someone for his big brother, and not just so he can date who he wants or as a distraction.

It's also interesting how Style's protest is that he can't see himself actually gaining feelings for Fadel because in a way there's nothing to recommend Fadel to Style at this point. As far as Style is concerned, Fadel is arrogant and condescending, rude and ungrateful (after all, he did replace a bunch of parts in Fadel's car for free), a stick in the mud about his brother dating, and can't seem to take a joke.

We see the polite, pleasant and reasonable Fadel, but Style doesn't.

Which is why I've been obsessing over Style's expressions immediately after the conversation with Bison. Bison's parting insight is "He's rough on the outside, and on the inside," and I think he accidentally piqued Style's curiosity with that line. Because why does Bison still want his brother to have a "real" relationship, then? What makes Fadel worth loving, despite (what Style thinks is) nothing to recommend him?

Ugh I wish I knew how to make gifs because BLESS @airenyah FOR MAKING THESE GIFS!!! Dunk goes through a whole sequence of expressions here that suggests a shift happens in the way he's thinking of Fadel. There's a pensive and thoughtful look and then almost like, "Oh what the hell, might as well see where this goes" kind of amusement at the end. And I think the reason he has this shift is because he's realised that Bison clearly loves his brother and that must mean that there's more to Fadel then his initial impression of the man.

It's interesting that his next attempt at messing with Fadel actually invites Fadel to play along with it. It's so much tamer and more private than the previous attempts because he isn't actively trying to humiliate Fadel this time. And it works?? Fadel engages in the roleplay, indulges Style's ridiculousness, actually chops faster (whilst the most hysterical series of minute expressions play over Fadel's face <3). Perhaps this was Style testing the waters: can Fadel engage with something playful and not take everything way too seriously? Huh, turns out, he can!

The next time Style shows up around Fadel, he's circled back to that playful over-the-top flirting that characterised the garage scene. This is the first time in this episode that Style is actually flirting. Every other time was just to frustrate/humiliate Fadel but notice how he's actively trying to look attractive to Fadel now? He's putting all his best (ahem) assets on display, and poor Fadel has no real protection against this. And, oh, Style is loving this! He's gleefully lapping up every single time Fadel fails to completely hide that he's affected by him.

This, though. THIS precisely is the point I think Style decides that he really does want Fadel for himself. There's so much playing out over Style's face: the determination to push things further, the delighted surprise to see Fadel so rattled, the razor sharp focus, and then desire. Style has finally broken through Fadel's "roughness" and he loves it.

If that uncle hadn't walked in, I'm convinced Fadel would have let Style do anything he wanted, and I think Style knew that.

It's the first time Style immediately chases after Fadel when he walks away from him, and he's absolutely delighted when Fadel all but chokes him against the lockers because that means he still has Fadel within reach.

The whole conversation about "love at first sight" is breathtaking because it feels like Style is discovering what's going to make Fadel crack as he says it and realising just how much he wants this. And no, I don't think he's in love with Fadel yet (not by a LONG shot), but I think he realises that he wants Fadel to fall in love with him. This is such a shift from what he expressed in the diner to Bison. In the diner, there was no hope, no chance for this.

The kisses catch Style by surprise too: you can see that he's just reacting, pushing to see where Fadel will finally draw the line. Because Fadel kisses back in the first kiss and actually fails to push Style away for quite some time in the 2nd kiss (the camera purposely lingers on the way Fadel's hands hover over Style's waist without shoving him back). The third kiss is the point Fadel finally starts fighting, and in the immidate aftermath you can see Style watching so carefully again. And Fadel nearly kisses him again, you see the way Fadel's eyes drop to Style's lips, the way they both freeze and linger in the moment for that one second. The way Style registers that moment and it leaves Style shaken himself.

It's so interesting that this is how we leave Style in this episode (we only see Fadel's fantasy version of Style after this point). I've got two possible interpretations for this line:

Style possibly catches on that Fadel is more dangerous than he seems. Maybe just from vibes, maybe from something in the way Fadel threatened him that kicks off some kind of fearful instinct. This could be what makes Style start questioning if Kant told him the full story and lead to whatever scene it is where Style demands answers in the episode 3 preview.

Alternatively, perhaps Fadel is starting to become real to Style in ways he wasn't before. Fadel was almost a caricature of a man, one which Style didn't like very much before, and that made it easier to fool around with him. But this? This almost tortured man who clearly wants Style but can't seem to give into that desire? Something is going on and Style isn't sure it's worth the game to either of them anymore. Because maybe Style recognises that he's more affected than he should be. And that has implications that Style was not ready for.

[jarofstyles]

The Favor 6

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WC- 5.1k

Warnings- exhibitionism, slight degradation, teasing In public, BDSM elements, mention of unhealthy relationship, Dom/sub dynamic, choking, spanking, mention of edging hehe

——-

Leaving Harry’s house was difficult. 

Even knowing she was going to see him on Wednesday for lunch and she was staying the weekend next week, something felt so wrong about going home to her empty place and just continuing about her week like she hadn’t just had a mind blowing experience during the weekend. 

Harry had taken incredible care of her. Not only had he bathed with her, tied her hair up in a scrunchie he had, washed her body with a soft washcloth and fed her fruit from his fingers, but he’d thrown one of his shirts over her body and brought her into a freshly made bed where he had her lay on her tummy and he rubbed salve into her ass that was still very much sore. He’d taken care of her, brushed her hair back and cuddled her as they spoke about what they did and didn’t like in the scene- which was overwhelmingly positive. Y/N had found out she especially liked his hand around her throat and when he’d pressed her face into the bed like he had at the end. She wasn’t sure about the edging quite yet but she was open to trying different scenarios and it was hard to admit that, but Harry’s overwhelmingly sweet reception of her hesitance made up for the nerves. He had said overstimulation was his choice over the latter in terms of subs, but he liked to edge himself more than anything and was open to trying different scenarios. Orgasm denial seemed more like a punishment to her, which he noted very clearly. 

The next morning she’d woken up with a freshly showered Harry who had finished his workout when she was sleeping. He’d woken her to check on her bum, but somehow it had turned dirtier. With Harry’s fingers tucked inside of her cunt, easily wet for him as he coaxed an orgasm from her with her hands pinned above her head and her body writhing under him, his palm slapping over her clit and her head light as he licked his digits clean afterwards. 

He’d made breakfast of eggs, toast and yogurt parfaits, remembering her affinity for strawberries from the night prior. He’d also remembered her chamomile tea, making sure it was steeped by the time they’d gotten settled in his dining room, Buttons sitting at her bare feet to keep them warm. 

Leaving had been hard, the man quick to give her a squeeze and kiss to the forehead after walking her to the car and putting her duffle in her backseat. He’d promised to text her during the week, which he had, but it didn’t do much to help her missing him that night. If anything, she felt lonelier than she had before she even met him.

Speaking of, Danny had been really irritating her. He’d barely texted her that weekend but as the week went on, he’d been texting her about some sports games, gossip at his job, shit that she really had no interest in. Not once had he made a real attempt to ask how she was doing. He made no attempt to see her, which was both a blessing and a curse. She wasn’t sure how she’d react to his touch right now. The thought had been floating in her mind if he truly grasped how intimate of a thing she was doing with Harry. If he knew, if he cared, even. The longer it was going on, the less she felt steady in a relationship she had been so desperate to keep afloat just 3 weeks ago. 

His name sent a sense of annoyance through her when she saw it on her home screen as she put her car in park, but the name above his had her tummy erupting in butterflies. 

Harry: Hi, love. I’m here, I got a table outside if that's alright?

Y/N: I just pulled in!!! Sorry a train was going over the tracks again. So annoying. 

Y/N: I’ll be there in just a minute :) 

Fluffing her hair, she adjusted her lip stain and hoped she didn’t look too disheveled as she got out of her car. Harry had brought up seeing her halfway through the week and she’d been looking forward to it since she left in the early evening on sunday. It’d only been 3 days and yet she felt giddy, walking into the patio and seeing Harry sitting and watching her as she approached. 

The outfit today was a simple navy dress with a tie in the back. Professional enough but casual to the touch, making it one of her favorite dresses to wear. It highlighted her body but in an appropriate way. It showed the dip in her wait and the flare of her hip, hitting right at the knee. Her brown flats were boring, sure, but she didn’t need blisters today. 

The tall man stood up to greet her, immediately wrapping her up in a hug she didn’t realize she’d desperately needed. Y/N had always been a pretty independent person in her life, not one to rely on people. She didn’t lean on anyone, kept mostly to herself and found it hard to let go- which is why she thought this weekend was probably so impactful for her. Letting Harry make the decisions had felt so good, so freeing, that she was craving it yet again. 

“Hi.” She mumbled into his chest, melting into him as he rubbed his hand against her back. His embrace was warm and safe, enough of a relaxing effect to make some of the tension she’d been carrying melt off her shoulders. 

“Hi, Darling.” He hummed, pressing his lips to her forehead. A sweet greeting that the sweet girl deserved. “Y’alright?” It was a trick question because he knew the answer. 

“Yeah, just been a bit stressed.” She admitted. Harry didn’t want to admit just how relieved that she was giving him honesty over the fake ‘I’m fine’ smile she would be sure to give everyone else. 

“Yeah?” He frowned, smoothing his hands over her shoulders. “M’sorry about that. Why don’t you sit down and we can talk about some of that? I got you a smoothie.” The girl visibly perked up, looking at the pink drink on the table. 

“Strawberry Banana?” She questioned, thanking him for pulling out her seat for her. At his hum of affirmation, a weird feeling settled in her stomach. It was so odd for someone to notice the little things about her. Harry remembered the smoothie she’d gotten with him last time, he remembered her general love of strawberries, and he’d seemingly be interested in knowing the intricacies of her stress. It felt a bit weird, maybe, to be cared for on this level by someone. Someone who wasn’t even her boyfriend. “Thank you.” Her eyes were lighter as she watched him sit down across from her, his gaze locked on her face as she took a sip of her smoothie. 

“You’re welcome.” It had been the hope that she’d like it. He’d been keeping his little notes in his head about things she liked. Y/N had quickly become a bit of a staple in his life and he liked to make her smile, even with something as simple as remembering what smoothie or berries she liked. “Now tell me about what’s been going on.” 

Y/N usually wasn’t one to vent- but the floodgates opened. She felt weirdly comfortable with the man, deciding to let him in on things happening with her work, how her mother had been pressuring her to come home more often when she didn’t really want to considering she knew it would just lead to questions she didn’t want to answer, how she’d been forgetting to eat because work stress had been irritating her and taking over the forefront of her mind and only remembered when he’d text her and ask what she ate that day. A lot of it was trivial and she knew that, people out there had it much worse than she did, but Harry didn’t make her feel judged in the slightest. Instead, his fingers stroked the back of her hand in a soothing motion as he studied her face. 

“And then Danny…” She swallowed the lump in her throat as she met Harry’s eyes apprehensively. “I’m just beginning to see things that I didn’t before. He’s not once asked me how I am, how the weekend really went, how I feel about it. He’s texted me to bitch about work and sports and ask if I was coming out this weekend with the lot of them, but there’s no.. there’s no interest in me. It’s all about him or trivial things and I’m starting to wonder why I haven’t noticed it before.” Her voice was small, wavering slightly as she broke their eye contact to look at the smoothie gone 3/4ths of the way. 

Harry pursed his lips as his hand flipped hers over, instead letting his fingers stroke her inner wrist as he thought of how to respond. It was something he’d noticed too. Danny had never asked how Y/N was that weekend, if she was alright. His phone had sat empty- like he didn’t care and had just dumped her on someone else with no second thought. It had pissed him off too but he didn’t feel he had a right to bring it up first. It wasn’t his relationship, even if he felt some type of way about it. He didn’t want to appear as if he was positioning her to make any sort of decision. It was all her, and he didn’t want her to think he was trying to swoop in and take her away…. Even if that had been a thought a time or three. 

“I’m sorry.” It was how he chose to begin the conversation because in all honesty, he was. He’d been in a situation where he’d felt uncared for not too far in the past and he could remember the emotional wounds- wounds that were still healing. “I know I may not have the most helpful things t’say and I don’t want you to think m’trying to push you in any sort of direction, but let me just say thing.” A large inhale was taken before he continued, hoping she wouldn’t take it in an offensive way. “I don’t understand what he’s doing. If I’m being completely honest with you, I’ve been baffled on how he’s letting this happen,how he even asked me to touch you. If you were mine, I’d never in a million years want anyone to even graze your skin. Let alone do the things m’doing to you. It would drive me mad to think of someone else knowing how you taste, how you look when you finish, and thinking of you saying someone else's name…” A bitter laugh exited him. “I’d be homicidal. So, I can’t wrap my head around how this has happened. But what I can say is that you need to take a look at your relationship and what you want objectively. If it was your friend being treated this way, how you’d feel. Go back and think on how you’ve been treated this whole time.” The next part was going to kill him to say, but he had to. He had to try to be good and supportive. “And I think you’d need to talk to him and tell him you feel neglected. From my eyes it does look that way, and it looks selfish, but perhaps being in a long term relationship makes him a bit lazy.” Harry couldn’t fathom slipping up like that, but again… everyone was different. 

“Bottom line is I want you to be happy, Darling. You’ll still have a friend in me regardless if you’re dating Danny or not. Relationships come and go many times in your life, and just because you’ve put years into it doesn’t mean you have to settle for poor treatment. Okay?” 

Harry’s heart ached when he saw her misty eyes, frowning as he motioned her to come sit on the chair next to him rather than across. The patio was mostly empty anyways, but he didn’t care either way as he pulled her into him for a hug. She didn’t fully cry, but he could feel some dampness on his skin as she nuzzled into his neck. Calming circles were ran over her back, letting her catch her breath as he stayed quiet. He was walking a fine line here. 

“Thank you.” She said, muffled by his shirt. She stayed there for a little bit before pulling out, Harry’s hand lifting to wipe away a few tear stains from her cheeks and smiling when she leaned into his palm. His heart skipped a few beats as he watched her eyes close, relaxing into his touch. God, if she was his he’d plant kisses all over her face and get those giggles back. He’d do anything in his power to make sure the only tears she cried were from pleasure. How could someone be so stupid? “I missed you. Is that weird to say?”

It had only been a few days since she left but she’d missed him quite a bit. Sleeping with him for two days, her own bed had never felt more cold. Never felt less comfortable. There was no knit throw at the bottom of her bed to throw over her shoulders as she made her way downstairs to see him making some sort of breakfast for her. There was no anticipation on what he may ask from her next, if he’d ask her to get on her knees and make him cum. It had only been the first few days and yet she felt addicted to his touch, how he made her feel. 

His smile was warm, thumbing over her cheek as he shook his head. “It’s not weird to say, Pet.” He mumbled, watching her breathing hitch. He’d missed her too. He wanted her back in his bed, back in his kitchen. It had been a tiny hint of what could be and his brain couldn’t stop thinking about if they’d had a proper shot. If he could take her on as not only a full time sub, but as his girl. If she’d sit pretty waiting at home for him when he went out, if she’d follow him around the house like a pup like she had the last day he had her like she was aching for any sort of pet or scratch. “Only two more nights and you’ll be back with me though, hm? Coming right t’my place after you're finished with work?”

“Mhm.” She nodded, eyes wide as she looked up at him. There it was again. That shift, so subtle in his tone but the energy could be felt between them. “I’ll come right to you, I promise.” 

“I know you will, Pet. You’ve already proven you’re my good girl.” His voice was soft as he felt her lean further into him, watching as she nearly melted at the term of endearment. Y/N was just so fucking sweet, he was going to get a toothache. “You’ve been behaving, hm? Not touching yourself like I asked?” 

“Promise.” She whispered. “I was sore for the first day and- and then I remembered what you promised me if I listened. It’s been hard because…” Her face flushed. “Because I keep remembering what we did and how good it felt and then I get all worked up but… I want t’be good for you, sir.” Her voice was soft so it could be kept between them, but Harry knew he was starting something dangerous. His cock twitched in interest as he looked at her slightly wet lips, remembering how he’d felt slipping between them. How she’d been so needy, wanting to take him all the way inside of her throat. 

“I believe you, Puppy.” He chuckled under his breath. “But I hope you know you aren’t the only one who’s been thinking about it. Not only about how good it is, but how many other things I want to do t’you. Just got a bit of a taste for it and my mind’s already running rampant with filth.” He moved his touch to her lip, brushing over the bottom as he let out a sigh. He wanted to hear her cum for him again. Wanted to feel her clench around him, smell her scent on him as he went back home. “So if I tell you t’go to the restroom and wait for me, you’ll be a good little Puppy and do it?”

Her heart rate picked up as she picked up what he was laying out. Oh, god. She hadn’t expected to do anything like this today but she’d never deny him. Maybe that would be a fault of hers later on down the line but there was no way she could say no to him or his touch. “I’ll go right now.” She nodded, standing up on shaky legs the moment his touch fell away. Grabbing her bag, she placed it over her shoulder and walked briskly towards the bathroom, feeling herself heat between her legs as she did so. 

Public play and risky touch was something she’d wanted to experiment with and she was sure Harry remembered that too. It amazed her how much he paid attention to detail and how thoughtful he really was, all things considered. Her legs felt shaky as she stood at the mirror, waiting in anticipation for the man who’d been taking up the majority of her mind the whole week. It had been near constant thought of him when she hadn’t been texting him, talking to him more frequently than her own official boyfriend- but she was more connected with Harry than him at this point in time. She winced at the thought of not being with him in the future, but she never allowed herself to think of the fact that her and Harry had an ending date, even if neither of them knew it. 

The focus now was pleasure. 

Her body jumped as the bathroom door swung open, the man confidently striding in and pointing towards the biggest stall. Wordlessly she nodded, following the unspoken instruction to get in there. 

It moved a bit quickly after that, or maybe her head was just fuzzy from the dominance leaking off of the man. His large hand gripping her jaw and tilting it up so he could kiss her the way he wanted, tasting him on her tongue with a soft moan as he pressed his other hand against her ass and began to ride her dress up. 

“Did it on purpose, didn’t you?” He growled, tugging it up until her ass was exposed to the open air. Her thong was doing her little favors as his hand came down in a sharp smack, making her whimper against his lips as his fingers dug into the stinging flesh. “Wore a cocktease of a dress yet again so I’d take you in here and make you cum. Puppy wants t’be a whore for me?” He pulled their lips apart so she could properly answer. 

“I-I didn’t mean to, but I want you, Sir.” She blinked up at him with hazy eyes, gasping when his hand swatted the other side of her ass. 

“Didn’t even wait for the bruising to go all the way away before you got a hand on that pretty ass again. You’re filthy.” He clicked his tongue, holding on to the heated skin as he laid another kiss on her lips. “What’s your color, Puppy? Can I play with you in here?” 

“Green, so green. I promise.” She swallowed, near close to begging. “I- I want to try this, anything you give me. I’ll be good, I’ll do ask you ask. I missed you, Sir.” Her insistence obviously did something to the man, his features softening slightly at her words. 

“I missed you too, sweet thing. M’not gonna give you my cock today because m’gonna keep myself at the edge this whole week. We’re having plenty of fun this weekend… but since you’ve been such a good little plaything for me and listen so fucking well, m’gonna let you cum on my fingers. A little reward.” He pecked her sticky lips again, releasing her ass to slide his fingers towards the front. “Is that good enough for you, Pet?” 

“Mhm, anything Sir, Anything- Oh.” She gasped as her panties were tugged roughly to the side, his digits sliding through her slit and making her breathing catch in her throat. The moment he got her hands on her she knew she was turned into mush, pathetic and wet, but Harry seemed to enjoy it. 

“I know. You’ll take anything I give you, not like y’have much of a choice. I’m in charge of you and your greedy holes.” He whispered, thumbing over her clit. “Got so fucking wet in such a little amount of time. Or did you get worked up just by the sight of me?” He theorized correctly. “Remembered what we did the last time we were together, how good my cock fucked you out… Is that what happened?” His words were taunting, slightly condescending as she rolled her hips into his hand. He’d pushed her back against the wall, the cool brick making her shiver slightly- but nothing could compare to the heat he was making her feel. 

“Mhm, I-I couldn’t help it.” She felt like her tongue was twisting as it usually did when she fell further into this headspace. “I always think about how good you make me feel, Sir. It’s so amazing.” Her voice slurred slightly as he pushed the first finger inside of her. 

“I know, sweetheart. It is amazing, how your body turns you into the filthiest whore I’ve ever met the moment I walk into a room.” He sighed, slipping knuckle deep inside of her as she squirmed. “God, got such a greedy cunt too. Sucking my finger right in. Know it’s been hard for you to keep those dirty hands off, but your cunt belongs t’me now. M’so glad you’ve kept enough smarts even when you’re horny and gagging for it t’know that I’m the only one who gets to touch.” Harry loved knowing that, actually. She had given herself over to him and made it so he was the one in charge of her orgasms, he was the one who was going to make her feel good and no one else. Y/N had slipped into being a sub for him so easily he had to wonder how she hadn’t ventured into it earlier. She was a natural. 

He watched her eyes flutter shut as he slipped his grip from her jaw down to her throat. He didn’t squeeze quite yet, instead holding her as a form of ownership. If only she knew she owned him just as much. “I’ve been thinking about it too, pretty pet. Been thinking about how much m’looking forward to taking you to the club this weekend and showing you off, how lucky I am to get t’train such a perfect little sub. You’ve been incredible, y’know that?” Slipping some praise in there had her cunt quivering around his finger, making his smirk grow. 

“Oh, Puppy likes being called good. I knew that, but how are you going to feel with all those people watching you prove it? Gonna make them so jealous that you’re so good for me, that you take my cock so well.” Harry purred the words out, rubbing his cock up against her hip as he entered another finger into her sopping cunt. She was drippy and slick, just the way he liked it. It was a shame he was a glutton for his own punishment, but he knew that his orgasm this week was going to be fucking incredible. 

“Sir…” Y/N didn’t even know what she wanted to say, her mouth opening and closing as he curled his fingers right into the spot she needed. It was almost embarrassing how quickly she was coming to an end but she had figured out that he liked that. Harry loved giving her pleasure and making her orgasm, so he was pleased. 

“I know, my needy pup.” My, my, my. Y/N’s brain focused on that claiming title, making her whimper. “I know, you’re gonna cum all over my fingers like the perfect slut you are. M’obsessed with this cunt, you know that?” He laid on some more compliments. “Perfect for my cock, so snug and hot… gets sopping wet just for me.  Love the messes you make. If we had more time I’d slip myself into you and use your cunt to make myself cum, let you walk out of here with my spunk dribbling down your leg. And you’d love it because you love everything I give you.” His fingers applied some pressure on the sides of her neck, giving that headrush she’d been craving ever since she got it last. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes- anything.” She babbled, eyes watering as his fingers nailed right into the spot and the heel of his palm smacked against her clit. It was only a moment later that the door opened and someone obviously on the phone came in, making her eyes widen. Harry instead, though, shook his head. 

“Keep fucking quiet and cum.” He whispered into her ear. “Don’t want the nice woman to know you’re being finger fucked in this stall, do you?” He nuzzled his nose against her cheek. “C’mon, sweet pup. You can do it, be nice and quiet for me. If she listens close enough she’ll be able to hear how wet your cunt is around my fingers, we don’t want that do we?” His taunts were pushing her up and up… 

Harry felt drunk in this moment, overly smug and in power. Y/N was loving every single bit of this as she clung to him, her arm over his shoulder keeping her from falling down on weak knees. He could see on her face how close she was, her eyes watering slightly as he kept the same pace up. It had been ages since he’d indulged in anything like this, let alone with someone so deliciously reactive to him, and he felt an addiction begin to grow as he felt her tighten around his fingers. 

“There we go, you’re right there. Cum for me, baby.” He coaxed, groaning quietly against her skin as he felt her let go. The gush around his fingers, her body trembling as he moved to cover her mouth with his own and the nails digging into his shoulder as she squirmed in his hold. 

The sink went on, the woman still on the phone as she washed her hands and the sound of the automatic paper towel dispenser rang throat the bathroom as he kept his grip on her throat, waiting patiently for the door to close before he released her. A shaky, loud inhale sounded in the echoing room, Harry pulling her into his body as his finger slowly pulled from her cunt. 

“There she is… You did so fucking good, angel.” He whispered, rubbing the back of her neck as he let her recover. “You’re so amazing,y’know that? Kept so quiet for me. Bet that felt so good, didn’t it?” He pulled back to look at her face, cooing at the fucked out look on it. The pride he felt for being the one to put that look on her was filling his chest. It was an honor that she allowed him to do this sort of stuff to her, that she placed all her trust in him to make sure she was safe and felt good. It wasn’t something he took lightly despite the teasing he could give her while in it.

“So good.” She whispered, her head thudding against his chest. He let out a laugh as she lifted her other arm, wrapping it around his shoulders and leaned into him which he fully allowed. Hugging after such a filthy thing was something she would have prior assumed would be awkward, but it wasn’t in the slightest. She felt safe. Cared for. His hand running over her back as he held her, whispering praises. “That was amazing. I… I always wanted to do something like that.” 

Harry remembered that. His lips pecked over her hair, letting her regain strength from her orgasm before moving to grab a bit of tissue. “I remembered. I told you I wanted t’give you all the things I could.” Gently he wiped her clean, apologizing when she winced in sensitivity. “M’sorry, sweetheart. Got to clean you up.” He had to make sure she was good. “M’gonna leave you in here while I wash my hands and I want you to use the bathroom, yeah? Need to be safe.” It was better for her to use it now that to wait. 

“Kay.” She sighed, not thinking twice before leaning up on her toes and pressing a kiss to his lips. When she pulled back she froze, blinking with wide eyes as she looked up at him. “Oh, shit. Is that okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it. I don’t know if you want to keep that just in scenes or if you wanted me to-”

Lips cut her off. A deeper kiss was pressed to her mouth, answering her question for her before he even pulled off. “Don’t overthink it. You can do that whenever you want.” He mumbled, wiping the corner of her lip for her. 

While washing his hands Harry knew that he should have made a boundary there. They shouldn’t be kissing outside of scenes, they shouldn’t have this casual affection, but he would be damned if he ever rejected her in that way when he craved it just as bad. Perhaps allowing that sort of thing was setting themselves up for a world of hurt, but Harry couldn't find it in himself to care. Y/N wasn’t getting what she needed from the very man who pushed her into his arms to be an experiment for her. It wasn’t his fault that they had overwhelming chemistry. 

He already had a hard time denying her. Y/N had quickly become his weakness, one he hadn’t expected. But when being with someone felt this good, it was hard to imagine it being anything but right. 

[mclacedes]

The Idea of You (LN4)

2. The Idea of Worthiness

summary: in which lando decides to make it up for ghostin you

previous ••• next

WARNINGS: it's pretty much all angst. in-depth described anxiety attack, anxious behaviour/mannerisms, description of depression and suicidal ideation, loneliness

wc: 3k

“but what if i can't do it?”

A/N: before anything else, i want to make it clear that my intention is NOT to trigger any kind of trauma in anyone with this. the reader has been warned of potential triggers. if you are going through some kind of psychological hardship, know that there are people who care and who worry <3 you are never 100% alone!

january 1st, 2024 — 3:30pm

you came home with a knot in your chest that seemed to tighten with every breath. the morning had been a blur, an awkward dance around lando’s mother as you searched for a polite excuse to leave.

of course you'd chosen the most simple and non-negotiable of lies: i need to spend some time with my relatives.

despite it being faintly true, you knew you'd spend the whole day with lando's family if the circumstances were different.

the night's words lingered in your mind as you walked out, wishing it could cover the truth: you couldn’t bear the thought of facing lando after what had happened—or rather, after what didn’t happen.

now, the silence in your own home was suffocating. you slumped onto the couch, your mind replaying the scene on a loop: lando's words, lando's reassurance, the way his lips had bruised yours, the heat of his breath so close, his hands on you, his hands in you, his fingers’ magic, and then... you wake up alone.

now, you knew lando felt the same, you knew that things could work out, you knew just the intensity of your feelings for him. but you also knew he hadn't texted you back all day and, seemingly, nobody knew where he was.

as his closest friend, you knew that he'd only have left that way if something really bad had happened.

what you didn't know though, was how bad it felt for him.

it had been a long time since lando had received the diagnosis. after years of wondering what was wrong with him and why he felt such a void within himself, he'd been told he had depression.

what they say is that treatment is easier when you have the right diagnosis, but that doesn't erase the fact that some days were infinitely more difficult than others—harder to get out of bed, harder to leave the house, to work, and singularly hard to live, specially because the latter is the last thing you want during a depressive episode.

he started going to therapy regularly when he was a minor, forced by his parents, but when he became an adult he left—said that talking about how horrible he felt wouldn't help, it would only make him feel worse.

and then the episodes gradually became worse as his life improve. for example, before arriving in F1, he oftentimes found himself fighting against the urge to simply end it all: the pain, the suffering, the disruption, the constant failed attempt at a better day, his very life.

even though he never attempted it, lando was caught contemplating the possibility of the end; he used to wonder how people would react when they heard "lando norris died, suicide", what it would be like if he wasn't here anymore.

“such a kind soul”

“such a beautiful boy”

“smart, funny”

“talented guy”

that's what people would say, in the best of cases.

in the worse of cases people wouldn't even notice he was gone.

well, following next to depression was anxiety.

lando’s anxiety was a constant undercurrent to his depression, feeding off it, amplifying it, tangling him further in a web of self-doubt. it was always there, an invisible weight pressing down, but some days it grew loud enough to silence every other part of him, like a swarm of thoughts buzzing incessantly, trapping him in a looping worry about everything and nothing all at once.

it started with racing—the very thing he loved was also the source of his most unrelenting fears. despite his undeniable talent and the acclaim he’d earned, the worry always crept in: what if i mess up? what if i’m not good enough? what if it’s all just a fluke, and one day everyone realizes i’m a fraud?

he dreaded that moment when the lights turned green, not because of the physical danger but because of the psychological toll—that split-second when any mistake, any misstep, could spiral out into a visible, unforgivable failure.

even beyond racing, the anxiety spilled into every facet of his life. he overthought every message he sent, every interaction, analyzing them for any hint of rejection, any confirmation of his worst fears. if he didn’t receive a response right away, his mind spun stories, convincing him he’d somehow upset the person or made a fool of himself.

and now, with you, it was worse. his feelings were tangled with worry and doubt; he feared you’d eventually see through his flaws, his bad days, his cracks, and walk away. the closeness you’d shared the night before terrified him. he wanted you desperately, yet that desire to let you in also exposed him to his greatest fear: that he would scare you away merely by the fact that he existed.

this anxiety could sometimes send him into a state of paralysis, leaving him unable to reach out, unable to bridge the gap even when he wanted nothing more than to feel your presence, to hear your voice. today was one of those days—the aftermath of a moment so perfect, so vulnerable, that his mind filled with a thousand worries. he couldn’t bring himself to message you, to even show you the rawness of his internal struggle. instead, he withdrew, waiting for the fog to clear enough for him to reach for you again.

but you had tried.

you: lando hey

you: i'm worried abt u

you: text me whenever u get the chance pls

you: i'm right here if you wanna talk”

there were another 20 texts of kindred nature from you in his phone—you spent the afternoon rewinding what had happened, wondering if there were any signs that he would do something to himself or… the devil god knows what.

you had barely moved or done anything at all since you had gotten home because lando still hadn’t texted back, and the worry in your chest was growing impossible to ignore.

you’d known him for years—long enough to see the shadows he kept hidden behind his easy smile. he had always brushed off the subject, deflecting it with humor or quick changes in conversation. but today, his silence was colder, sharper, more unsettling than usual.

hours had passed since you last saw him, and finally, you gave in and sent him a message, trying not to let the desperation seep through.

you: lando, i hope you’re alright. let me know when you’re home safe, ok?

the message delivered, but no ‘read’ receipt appeared. your heart sank, and as you stared at the screen, scenarios spun wildly in your mind.

lando was good at hiding. he knew how to pour himself into everything and everyone else, keeping busy, laughing, entertaining—until he couldn’t. when the episodes came, he retreated so far into himself that it was like trying to find someone in a pitch-black room.

you tried calling him. the line rang and rang, finally going to voicemail. your voice was barely a whisper as you left a message.

“lando… if you see this, please just… come home. or let me know you’re okay. i’m here, alright? no matter what, i’m here.”

when the call ended, the silence in your apartment felt just as cold as his void.

—

unbeknownst to you, he was okay.

at least that's what he said to max when he called saying cisca was worried about him. and thats what he said when he called his mom.

“i’m okay.”

but he knew there was nothing okay with him right now.

far away, in his silent retreat, a wave of coldness washed over him, and his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. that feeling in his chest was known: he was panicking.

it felt like the walls were closing in, a vice squeezing his chest tighter with every passing second. his hands trembled, fingers twitching as if searching for something to anchor him, to ground him in reality. he fought to keep his breathing steady, but the more he tried, the more elusive calm became. memories of your kiss haunted him—both a balm and a wound. how could something so beautiful leave him feeling so lost?

what if i’m not enough for her? he thought

a tight knot of fear formed in his stomach, mingling with the ache of longing. was he really ready for this? for you? for love? the questions spiraled, colliding with the weight of his own expectations and the pressure of his career. he couldn’t shake the sense that he was on the brink of something monumental, yet all he felt was the crushing weight of uncertainty.

the doubt crept in, fueled by echoes of his past, whispers of inadequacy that had followed him through the years. he recalled the stinging memories of being told he wasn’t good enough, of moments when his efforts felt like they never quite measured up. every trophy he’d won and every incredible milestone he had achieved done little to silence those voices. instead, they morphed into an insidious belief that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be a step behind, always falling short.

what if she hates me?

with you, the stakes felt impossibly high. what if he couldn’t be the partner you deserved? what if the pressure of the spotlight overwhelmed him and drove you away? those thoughts twisted in his gut, feeding the anxiety that swelled within him. he imagined you in a world where he wasn’t there, finding someone who could offer you the stability and unwavering support he feared he lacked. the very thought crushed him, deepening the ache in his chest, as it reminded him of all the times he had to fight for validation, only to come up empty-handed.

he was scared of what loving you meant, terrified of failing you, terrified of failing himself. the weight of it all felt unbearable, a heavy blanket of dread that threatened to suffocate him.

what if i fail her?

lando was too scared, too anxious. with every breath, his lungs ached, and with every tear that gathered in his eyes, he felt weaker. it was as if he were standing on the edge of a precipice, the ground crumbling beneath him, and the vast unknown loomed below—a place filled with possibilities but also with the risk of falling into darkness. he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, trying to ground himself as the rising tide of emotions threatened to pull him under.

every heartbeat felt like a reminder of his vulnerability, a painful pulse that echoed the uncertainty gnawing at his core. he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of something profound, yet all he could focus on was the suffocating fear of not being enough. the love he felt for you, so pure and intoxicating, was also a heavy burden, weighed down by his past failures and fears. the thought of letting you down, of not living up to the promise of what could be, sent chills racing down his spine.

she's too perfect, i'm a mess

as tears spilled over and streamed down his cheeks, he felt a mix of shame and desperation. lando had always prided himself on being strong, on facing challenges head-on, yet here he was—vulnerable and exposed, battling an internal storm that felt relentless. the very act of loving you felt like a gamble, one that he wasn't sure he was ready to take. would he be brave enough to step forward, to embrace the chaos of his heart, or would he retreat back into the safety of his own fears?

with every sob that escaped him, the overwhelming tide of emotion pulled him deeper, and he struggled to keep his head above water. the thought of calling you, of reaching out for the connection he craved, felt both necessary and terrifying. what if you saw him like this—raw, broken, and afraid? what if he could never find the words to explain what he felt, or worse, what if you saw him as nothing more than a disappointment?

what if she saw me for who i truly am?

taking a shaky breath, he reached for his phone thrown on the couch, sitting on it. his hands were still trembling as he dialed the only person, besides you, who he knew wouldn't judge, but understand him.

“hey, mate, how you doing?” max fewtrell greeted him with his usual easy grin, only for the smile to falter the second he took in lando’s state: tears streaked his face, his eyes swollen and red, his nose and cheeks raw from wiping at them. his lips, split and bloodied, told the story of how he’d been biting them all day. lando’s breath hitched in his throat, his words barely making it out.

“hey… mate, i—” he tried, but the lump in his throat choked him. lando couldn’t even speak.

“lando, what happened?” max said, his voice low and steady, concern etched across his face.

“i think i… i fucked things up with Y/N,” lando's voice cracked, desperation pouring from him as if his world was unraveling right there in front of max.

the sight in front of max sent a chill through his spine. lando's looks, disheveled, like he’d been pulling at it in frustration all day. his bright green eyes were dulled, sunken and rimmed with red. the bags beneath them were dark, a stark contrast against his pale skin. his hands trembled on his knees, unable to steady themselves. his chest heaved, like the panic was consuming him from the inside, leaving only a fragile shell of the person max had known for years.

lando wiped at his face, the back of his hand coming away wet. he shook his head, sinking deeper into the couch.

“we kissed, we slept together and i pushed her away, max. i—i could’ve stayed. i could’ve—” his breath caught again, ragged and uneven. “but i left with no explanation. i went up and left her there, max… i’m so stupid.” he cried out.

lando’s breath hitched, and he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears, but it was no use. his shoulders shook, and a sob escaped him, raw and unfiltered. he hadn’t felt this way in a long time—like he was too broken to be loved.

"max, i’m a mess," he whispered, his voice cracking. "i couldn’t stay, i couldn’t even look at her this morning because… because she deserves better. i mean, look at me," he gestured to himself, his hands trembling. “i’m fucked up, max. i couldn’t even say the words, couldn’t even be honest. how can i be with her when i don’t even know what’s going on in my own head?”

max’s brows furrowed, his face softening as he listened. lando looked like he was spiraling, and it hurt max to see his best friend like this—feeling like he didn’t deserve something good because he was caught in his own storm.

“lando, mate,” max started, carefully choosing his words, “you’re not as messed up as you think you are. yeah, you’ve got stuff going on, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve her, or that you don’t deserve to be happy. and running away from her because you think you’re too broken for her… that’s not the answer.”

lando shook his head, wiping at his eyes, his voice trembling as he spoke. “but i am broken, max. i don’t even know how to deal with my own shit, let alone someone else’s. she’s this… this amazing person, and i’m just… i’m just me. she deserves someone who has it all figured out, not someone who’s going to bolt the second things get real.”

max let out a breath, leaning forward a bit. “no one has it all figured out, lando. not me, not her, not anyone. she’s not expecting you to be perfect, she’s expecting you to be real with her. that’s all. and yeah, maybe you’re not in the best place right now, but you can’t let that be the reason you push her away.”

lando let the words sink in, but it didn’t ease the heaviness inside him. “i left because i thought… i thought i’d hurt her more by staying. i didn’t want her to see me like this. i didn’t want her to see how much of a mess i am.”

“but by leaving, you hurt her anyway,” max said gently. “because she cares about you. and if you care about her too, you’ve got to let her in, even if it’s messy, even if you don’t have all the answers. it’s okay to not have everything together, lando. it’s okay to be scared. but you can’t run from this.”

lando swallowed hard, staring at the floor, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch until his knuckles turned white. max was right. he had run—run because he didn’t think he was good enough, run because the idea of her seeing all his cracks terrified him.

“but what if i can’t do it? what if i let her down again?” lando’s voice was barely audible now, thick with doubt.

max’s expression softened even more. “then you figure it out, together. but you’ve got to give her the chance to make that choice. don’t decide for her that you’re not good enough. let her in. let her see you, even the parts you’re scared to show. that’s how you build something real.”

lando’s breath came in short, shallow bursts, his heart pounding in his chest. the thought of opening up like that—to be fully seen, in all his messiness, all his vulnerability—scared him more than any race ever had. but the thought of losing Y/N, of pushing her away because of his own fear… that scared him even more.

“yeah, sure,” lando whispered, his voice hoarse. “i need to talk to her. i need to fix this.”

max smiled softly, relief flickering in his eyes. “yeah, mate. you do.”

after bidding his best friend farewell, lando sat and tried to calm himself down by pressing his fingers with exposed raw flesh due to the fact he had gnawed at his own hands out of anxiety. he had to come up with something to make it up to you. he needed to.

TAGGINGS: @meglouise00 @rawr-123s-stuff

[actuallyjustabiscuit]

I wanna break down the FunnyGummy farewell scene real quick because there’s so much to it that it’s making me feral

Pomni catches Gummigoo and it seems like she wants to try and reconnect with him despite knowing that’s not her Gummigoo.

Now I know there’s a lot of people who believe this Gummigoo subconsciously remembers her, but I genuinely think he doesn’t and that he’s a complete factory reset, because you can see just how uncomfortable he feels being followed by a woman who somehow knows his name yet from his perspective they’ve never met.

And if Pomni wants to rekindle the friendship she lost, or at the very least try to explain how she know’s Gummigoo, she’d have to tell him everything.

The fact that he’s an NPC.

The fact that his buddies as NPC’s as well.

The fact that any memories and personality he has are manufactured for the role Caine wants him to play.

The fact that he fucking died.

That’s a lot to dump on a guy just as he’s walking out the door after having a nice breakfast.

And as Pomni’s struggling to make her next move, we then get this little moment

She turns back…to look at Ragatha. (btw I think it’s cute how Rags is having a nice conversation with an NPC she never got to interact with because she was uh…little occupied during that particular adventure)

Ragatha who’s been consistently been making an effort to welcome her and trying to be her friend despite the rough start. Who she finally decided to show her appreciation for her continuous efforts. Who she can still make good memories with.

And it’s here that Pomni realizes that as much as it’d be nice to have Gummigoo back in her life…he’s not real…but Ragatha is. (Which is incidentally exactly when the track “Somebody Real” begins to play in the background here, which is the same track that plays during Pomni’s convo with Gummi in ep 2)

Gummigoo means a lot to Pomni because he’s the first friend she made in the Circus, but she also feels partly responsible for his entire worldview becoming shattered. She doesn’t want to put him through that again, man was devastated the first time he had to learn about what he was.

Not only that, but she also failed to help him feel like a real person when she took him back to the Circus.

It was never going to work out.

So she lets him go, but also gives herself the chance to say a proper goodbye. She gets the much needed closure she was denied when Caine decided to just obliterate him without warning. And Gummigoo gets to go live in complete ignorance and bliss.

I also like to think that the last thing on his mind as he left was “What a strange little character.”

Also…I think Ragatha would be happy to know that Pomni decided to stay and hang out with the rest of them over continuing to “flirt” with the GummyGuy.

Gay ass

[thevoidstaredback]

Adventures In Gotham

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant Side Story

The first time Danny had ever been to Gotham, he swore it would be his last. He was twenty-two at the time.

In an effort to relax after finals had ended, he, Tucker, Sam, Val, Wes, and Dani had been playing a round of Truth or Dare after finishing a few movies. Sam had dared Danny to wander around Gotham without attracting attention to himself. The catch was that he wasn't allowed to use his powers except to fly there and back. His time limit was Sunday night.

They'd all been planning to stay the night at Sam's anyway, so no one would even notice he was gone. Though, the dare had seemed easy at the time, Danny should've realized his luck was not that good.

Regardless, he flew to the outskirts of Gotham City, dropped his transformation, and entered.

The first thing he noticed was that there was some kind of bubble around Gotham preventing the Shades and overall feel of death from leaving. It was overwhelming at first, but he got used to it pretty quickly. The next thing he noticed was that he had walked into somebody's haunt.

Shit.

He made himself presentable and spoke to the night, "I apologise for trespassing," His voice echoed through the open area as though he was shouting in an empty room. Ghost Speak tended to do that. "I mean no hostile intentions. I simply wish to play a game with your protectors." With any luck, whoever this was would be playful or friendly, at the very least. He didn't hold his breath, though.

A lie. He was holding his breath, but that's only because he was nervous!

The night air stilled as though considering his words. Then, a breeze from behind pushed him further into the city. Flapping wings of bats and owls seemed to hide the whispers of "You may come in." and "Be careful." and "You will lose." and "Good luck.".

A vote of confidence from the City Spirit. "Thank you." He was going to be as quick as he could, but he couldn't draw attention to himself. Easier said than done. Batman seemed to know whenever anyone ever stepped foot into his city, especially if they've never been there before. So, he had to play hide and seek with Batman and Robin.

Again, easier said than done.

Danny knows very little about about Gotham and her heroes and villains. What he does know is that Robin is fairly knew to the scene, but also very serious in what he does. He's still a child, though, and he likes to play around a bit. Batman, on the other hand, has already become something of a cryptid, despite only showing himself a year or so ago. Either way, the two balance each other nicely and work well as a team.

Batman and Robin obviously know the entire city inside out, so Danny has to somehow keep an eye on where they are at all times while not drawing attention to himself. Which would be easy, except for the fact that Danny can only sense where non-living beings are. Batman and Robin are very much alive. He's pretty sure. Unless either of them have a shit ton of Shades attached to them, which is unlikely but not impossible, then he'll have to rely on finding them first and keeping them within his sight as he tours around their city.

Why the hell did he agree to this? He so deserves a reward if he succeeds.

'When', not 'if'. 'If' is pessimistic and implies that Batman might just drop him off a building and watch him fall. 'When' at least lets him continue with the illusion that he may get out of this no deader than when he arrived in Gotham.

All he had to do was basically tour the city, then he'll be done. It went well for the first hour, but then he spotted the shadows moving around him. It wouldn't normally be a problem, but one of those shadows was made out of bright colours. Seeing as his Ghost Sense didn't go off, Danny figured the he'd just run straight into Batman and Robin.

Shit. Fuck. Okay, play it cool, Danny.

He ran. He ran as fast as he could without using his powers. When he was sure he'd lost the two vigilanties, he allowed himself to stop in an alley somewhere in the Narrows. (The map he looked at was coming in very handy all of a sudden)

"Could be worse," he said to himself, backing into a corner.

The sound of shattering glass and the scurrying of mice and rats gave the impression of laughter and taunting. Which, rude, but fair.

"Your Knights, my lady," he spoke into the darkness, "are terrifying."

"Who you talking to?"

Danny did not jump. He didn't! Liar.

The kid, about twelve years old, was in bright green, red, and yellow. His hair windswept and he didn't seem even the slightest bit out of breath, let alone tired. Shouldn't he be in bed? Did he have a bedtime? He should have a bedtime, in Danny's expert opinion.

"Did you know that humans are endurance hunters?" Robin had been smiling since he dropped down in front of Danny. And if that wasn't a scary ass line to hear from a twelve year old up way past his bedtime-

No, he's not intimidated. "It's, um, a good thing I'm not completely human then, huh?" Stupid, stupid, stupid! Shut up, Danny! Stop talking! Right now!

This made Robin frown and the shadows started to move again, Batman taking his place just behind the boy. "What do you mean?"

Damn, he's scary! Danny's a sucker for a deep voice with a growl, damn.

"I, um," Intelligent response, Danny. King of the Realm Between Realms of Infinity. Keeper of Balance, Timeless Protector of the Dead and Living, and he can't even form a proper sentence.

Batman and Robin's stares were uncomfortably similar, even as Robin tilted his head ever so slightly to the right.

For all his wisdom, Danny couldn't see how he could manage to get out of this without using his powers. So, "Gottagobye!" he let intangibility and invisibility wash over him and he slipped through the wall behind him. From there, he let the rings of light cover him and he flew away.

He'll take the L. That was scary as hell!

The night wind brushed against him, the sound of breaking bones and cackling telling him to come by to play again some time. Had Gotham's City Spirit lead her Knight and his child to Danny? Probably. She seemed like the type. At least she seems to like him? Silver linings.

"I'm never going there again," he muttered halfway to Illinois.

Storyboard

Tag List:

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[bekolxeram]

Continuing on the theme of things I've missed while S7 was airing, we have to talk about the (failed) first date. I admit it gave me too much second hand embarrassment that I usually skipped it on a rewatch. Once I managed to brave through that I realized I did miss something important, so here is another scene breakdown. Again, it's just my own interpretation.

The title of 7x05 is You Don't Know Me, that seems to be the theme of the episode: the Wilsons figuring out Mara's trauma, Eddie finding out Marisol's former nun training, Buck trying to navigate the whole dating a man thing, but they all end up making an effort to make the relationship work.

The date scene starts at the end of the actual date. We don't see much of the getting to know each other stuff, but judging by their faces, it's gone pretty well. At this point they don't know about each other's movie preference yet, so Tommy picks a place where they can decide on arrival, with Buck's input. That also signifies the nature of this date, they're literally "keeping their options open" and just seeing where it goes, without any major expectation.

Buck still seems visibly nervous, but Tommy reassures him that they're just two guys having dinner, it's a very ordinary thing that nobody cares.

Buck pretends he's at ease, Tommy points out he seems a little tensed, but he understands Buck's worry. Tommy speaks about the masculine nature of their job and tells Buck that people are more accepting than he thinks, which sounds awfully like it's from experience.

I think Buck sees it too, so he asks Tommy, who seems perfectly confident in his sexuality and masculinity, if he's been always out on a job. Tommy tells Buck about the 118 under G*rrard, this explains to the audience why Tommy seemed to be straight and a part of the boys club back in S2.

So Tommy was at least aware of or questioning his sexuality at the 118. Mr. "my girlfriend is totally coming next week" and "single is much easier than scaring women" was full blown lying about his sexual orientation. Chances are he does understand Buck's nervous fumbling, as he's probably done worse in the past.

Here comes the seemingly recurring theme of Buck making things all about himself, whether you agree with this or not, he does have a tendency to get stuck in his own head. Tommy assures him yet again that he's not accusing Buck of anything, he's just sharing his own experience to empathize.

Tommy looks a bit surprise when Buck tells him it's his first date with a dude. It's probably new information to Tommy.

And then Buck tries showing Tommy that he holds no prejudice towards queerness because he's an ally, completely oblivious to the fact that he's also one of them. Tommy tries to follow as much as he can.

Tommy senses that Buck is spiraling, trying to pull out random stuff just to bring the date back on track, so he flirts with him just to lighten up the mood and for the third time of the night, reassure him of his interest in him and the rest of the night.

Then Eddie and Marisol walk in, and Buck panics. I know Buck tells Maddie later that he "makes it seem like they were just hanging out", but if you go back to this scene, Tommy is the one who covers for Buck and takes the initiative to agree with Eddie and tell him they're just doing normal bro hangout stuff.

7 seaons in, we all know Buck doesn't have the best luck with first dates. The more he likes someone, the more likely it is for him to mess it up. So of course he has to self-sabotage here and drag Tommy into the closet with him, even though Tommy's already covered for him and Eddie is ready to move on. Tommy doesn't like mad here, he looks disappointed.

For what it's worth, Buck's hot chick comment actually makes things worse. Look at how confused Eddie's reaction is.

This snarky joke from Tommy has caused some controversy among part of the fandom. Some believe that Tommy could've outed Buck with it, but I beg to differ. Eddie knows Buck very well, Buck has always dated women. On the other hand, Eddie has never heard of Tommy dating a woman, he might have attributed it to the recency of their friendship, but that's why he immediately makes the connection in his head that Tommy is gay when Buck comes out to him later in the episode. Even if Eddie had superhuman intuition and understood the double entendre of this closet comment, Tommy would be outing himself, not Buck.

Here is another controversial moment: Tommy doesn't explain anything to Buck until the Uber is here, and he just leaves him there. First, Buck is a grown man, he can get himself home, there is no concern for his safety. Second, Tommy has every right to leave the date if he doesn't vibe with it. When Tommy tells Buck he's adorable, I don't think he's referring to Buck's overall demeanor. I think he means that Buck's nervous fumbling into queerness doesn't scare him, he actually finds it quite endearing. But after reassuring him 3 times, even going as far as telling Eddie, someone they can trust, that they're just hanging out, Buck still feels the need to make the hot chick comment and push them both into the closet, Tommy realizes that things would not go any better if they continue the date. Buck has not fully processed the fact that he's bisexual and he's dating a man. I'm sure Tommy really likes Buck as well, he want to make it work, so to him, the best course of action at the moment is to take a step back and let Buck figure things out himself first.

To Buck this may sound like Tommy is letting him down easy, but I think Tommy is consciously not shutting anything down here. He absolutely will see Buck around, he's still Eddie's friend. Tommy knows they will have to talk about it in the future, but for now, it's best to put a pause on things just to give Buck some space to process. What Tommy doesn't know is that Buck has been dumped so many times that he thinks this is it.

Therefore, not only does Tommy never intend to out Buck during the date, he is willing to keep things ambiguous for Buck's comfort. Ultimately, it isn't enough for Buck, so Tommy takes a step back for Buck to figure things out on his own.