#this kind of got out of hand i’ll be real

[damneddamsy]

falling | joel miller x fem!oc (part iii)

summary: Joel’s delicate attachment to Leela and baby Maya deepens along with—her resistance, his denial, and the slow, inevitable way he’s always finding his way back to them. As they navigate a freak accident, Ellie sees it. He does too. Almost.

a/n: ah-woohooooo more of Joel being a thickheaded numpty, so enjoy! I would love to hear all your unhinged, lovely thoughts!

It had been a quiet few weeks for Joel.

Not the kind of quiet he liked—the stillness of early mornings, with the wind rustling the trees and a guitar strumming in his hands. No, this was the one that came after a storm, when the air was dense with the scent of rain and the world felt... upside down. Unsettled. The kind of quiet where the damage had already been done, and all that was left was to pick through the wreckage.

The kind of quiet that made a man think too much. It pressed into him, heavy and suffocating.

Since that night in the car, since he’d seen her unravel in real time, the tacit MO had changed. On more welcome news, Mal had stopped coming around. No thanks to him, of course.

Joel saw him through the window the first morning he returned to Leela's place. Mal was coming up the path with the same easy stride, hands in his pockets like he had a right to be there. God, just once, he wanted to knock the teeth off that goddamned kid.

Joel set down his hammer and exhaled through his nose. Bless Tommy for leaving the fun part to him. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and stepped out onto the porch before the kid could even knock. The heavy door groaned on its hinges behind him, and he let it.

Mal spotted him and gave a lazy wave, stepping forward. “Hey, man. I’m just here to—”

Joel shifted in front of him. Not aggressive. Just there. An immense wall of quiet warning.

Mal stopped short, blinking up at him.

Joel wasn’t even trying to stand taller, but he didn’t need to. He just crossed his arms over his chest, let his shoulders square out naturally, let his stance say everything. He wasn’t fucking moving.

The kid hesitated, confusion flickering across his face. “Uh—is there a problem?”

“I’ll take it from here,” Joel said, voice even.

Mal frowned. “What?”

“I said, whatever it is, I got it.”

There was a pause. A moment where Joel could see the gears turning in Mal’s head, where the kid was piecing things together a little too slow for his liking.

“Okay, but Tommy said—”

“Yeah, well.” Joel leaned forward, just enough to be felt. Watched Mal’s jaw tighten, and watched him shift back on instinct. “Not anymore.”

That finally landed. Mal thankfully rocked back on his heels and rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced past Joel, toward the house, then back, brows knitting together, trying to make sense of what was going on. What he'd done wrong.

"Uh... do you want help, at least?" he offered, cautious.

Joel let out a slow breath, something close to a laugh—if you could call it that. There was nothing warm in it. "You run along now."

Mal lingered for another second, like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it. And like a kid being told off, he tucked his tail and left.

Joel didn’t bother to watch him go. Just turned on his heel, grabbed the door, and went back inside. “Fuckin' pest,” he grumbled under his breath.

The house was quiet—only the soft creak of the stairs, followed by the sound of careful, steady footsteps.

He looked up and saw Leela was making her way down, one hand carefully bracing against the railing. She was in sweats and an oversized sweater, her hair pulled into a low-hanging bun. There was something different about her face today—sharper, cleaner, blanker maybe. Or maybe he was just seeing her in a better light now.

She caught him staring. "Was that Mal?"

Joel simply lied, "No."

She pressed her lips together. Not quite disappointment, not quite relief. Something in between. “Oh,” she said quietly. “Maybe later.”

Joel hooked a thumb through the loop of his tool belt, retrieving the hammer he’d slung there. He twirled it once, catching the handle in his palm.

“Don't worry about it. He’s a busy guy,” he said, keeping his voice light as he crossed her on the staircase. “Lots of shit to fix around town.”

More importantly, Leela didn’t ask why or how. Soon enough, she stopped looking for Mal. Didn’t even question when Joel started showing up every day instead with his old tool belt slung over his shoulder, standing at her door like it was the most unassuming thing in the world. She just looked at him—one glance, one unreadable flicker of those dark, tired eyes—and then moved on like it didn’t matter. Like he wasn’t there at all. Stiffing him, essentially.

And Joel knew that kind of distance. This gaping rupture, widened between people when something sore and hideous had been exposed. When someone had seen too much; known too much. Leela knew she’d overstepped, and now she was pulling back.

Joel knew that feeling. He’d done it plenty himself. That instinct to retreat, to pull the shutters down, to make yourself small. Hell, he’d lived it. Had become it.

So he let it happen. He let her pretend again. Didn't push, didn't say anything. He simply worked.

The nursery was coming together, slowly but surely. The pendant lights were fixed, casting warm pools of gold over the room. The shelves stood straighter, stocked with whatever Maria had been sneaking in—baby books, folded blankets, onesies, wooden toys. And the old fuchsia rug he’d found in Leela’s storage? It tied the whole damn thing together, like a relic of a forgotten life, all lived-in and warm for the baby girl.

Joel stood in the centre of it all, Maya cradled in his arms, rocking slightly on his heels. Not that she could appreciate any of this yet. A safe space of her own.

He had never been the kind of man who cooed at babies either. Hadn’t been that way when Sarah was small, hadn’t been that way in the years since. There was something about them—so soft, so fragile—that made him cautious, like he had to hold back, keep himself in check.

Maya made it easier.

"Hi," he whispered to her after her naps. "Did you sleep well? Huh, pretty girl? C'mere."

She made tiny, thoughtful expressions like she was really listening to him. Her little hands were always reaching, always curious. Right now, she was watching the lights with those big brown eyes, mesmerized by the slow shift of the shadows on the ceiling, her mouth parting slightly in wonder. Her fingers curled absently in his shirt, barely grasping, like she just liked knowing he was there.

She’d been a fussy one lately—tired, restless, wanting to be held more often than not. Lonely. And with a mama like Leela, who drifted too easily and got lost too deep in her own head, Joel figured it wasn’t a bad idea to show her around. Give her something new to look at.

“What do you think, baby girl?” he murmured, shifting her closer, his palm smoothing down her tiny back. “Did I do okay or what?”

Maya blinked up at him, her whole body stilling for a second before she let out a soft, breathy coo.

Joel grinned. “Yeah?” he chuckled. “That a yes?”

She wiggled in his hold, that gummy little smile coming alive, kicking lightly against his ribs, and Joel felt himself exhale—deep, easy, something loosening inside him. She liked it. The nursery. The lights. Him. Maybe none of it mattered in that little head of hers, but she wasn’t crying. She wasn’t fussing. She was looking at him like she trusted him, and God help him, but he wanted to deserve that.

He took her toward the shelves, kneeling carefully with her in one arm, balancing his weight as he pointed to the row of paint cans. “Alright, sweetheart. Let’s pick a colour. What’s it gonna be, huh?” He tilted them slightly, exposing the faded labels. “We got white. Some kinda blue. Green.”

Maya reacted immediately, tiny fist stretching out, fingers grazing toward the muted green.

Joel huffed a small laugh. “Yeah? That your favorite?”

Her fingers brushed the side of the can, fascinated by the cool metal, a quiet coo slipping from her lips.

Joel hesitated for a second, then gave in. He really couldn't help himself. At that moment, he just had to. Slowly, carefully, he shifted her closer, lowering his head and pressing a kiss to the soft crown of her unsteady little head.

She smelled faint and sweet as always, like baby powder and fresh linens, and he let himself linger for a second longer than he should have, feeling the heat of her through his shirt, the tiny weight of her against his chest.

Maya wiggled in response, not in protest, but excitement, legs kicking slightly.

Joel exhaled, something breaking loose inside him.

Before he could stop himself, he pressed another kiss to the side of her head, then another and another, half a laugh escaping him when she wriggled in delight, her little fists stretching open, her eyes squeezing shut like she could feel the warmth of it sinking in.

Maybe she could. Maybe she knew, in that small, primal way babies knew things, that Joel was someone safe. That he wouldn’t let her fall. That he really fucking loved her.

A rustle at the doorway made him glance up from a kiss. Leela stood there, her hand lightly braced against the frame, watching him.

Joel was caught off guard, leaning away from Maya a bit, settling her lower against his chest. “Hey,” he greeted, voice low. “Just givin’ her the lay of the land.”

Leela’s expression didn’t change. She only flashed a tight, fleeting smile before stepping forward, arms extending toward Maya. “You wanna take a bath with mama?”

Maya twisted in his hold, cooing eagerly now, little hands reaching for her mother. Even after everything, her mother was still her favourite person.

Joel let her go, careful as he passed her over to Leela. Their hands brushed, warm skin against warm skin, and he ignored the way it lingered, how her fingers barely curled in his before she took Maya into her arms.

“She’s been good,” Joel muttered.

Leela nodded, running a gentle palm over Maya’s back. “There’s lunch downstairs if you’re hungry.”

Joel studied her for a beat, his fingers brushing idly against his tool belt. “…Did you eat something?”

She hesitated. Too long. Then nodded, slow.

He didn’t call her on the lie. Instead, he nodded back, watching as she turned on her heel, shifting Maya closer against her shoulder. She left him with another tight, fleeting smile before disappearing down the hall.

Joel breathed out a sigh, glancing back at the half-finished room. Maya’s soft, content coos still lingered in the air. The green paint sat on the shelf, waiting.

And for some damn reason, he felt lonelier than he had in a long, long time.

It had taken him eleven days. Too long for a man like him. But he hadn’t rushed at all. He should’ve, but he didn’t. Had he been the same old Joel—good ol’ Texas Joel—this would’ve been a job done in a heartbeat. A blink, and he’d be out of her way. He wouldn’t have noticed things. Wouldn’t have lingered like a moron.

Maybe it was because of the way Leela barely spoke to him anymore. Or that she wouldn’t look him in the eye when she checked on his progress in clipped words and hums, wouldn’t even glance his way when she passed Maya to him like clockwork, a silent, wordless thing between them.

Maybe because when she leaves him standing at the porch at the end of the day, the door closing shut in his face, it didn’t feel like closing a chapter. It felt like a fucking wall going up.

Joel found her in the kitchen that evening, standing by the counter, wrist-deep in soapy water. It was late, Maya was snoozing her little head off upstairs, the house dim except for the overhead light humming low above them.

She didn’t stagger when he entered, didn’t look at him either. Just kept scrubbing the hell out of a plate, though he was pretty sure it was already clean. He dawdled near the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to figure out what the hell he was doing.

He should’ve left. Should’ve let the silence settle. But he couldn't just leave it alone.

Instead, he cleared his throat and stepped forward, leaning a hip against the counter. “Y’know, you got a dishwasher. It's half the effort,” he pointed out.

Leela gave a small huff. “Electricity’s scarce.”

Joel snorted. “So is water, darlin’.”

She finally glanced at him, just a flicker, then back to the sink.

He tapped his fingers against the counter, searching for something—anything—to keep her in this moment with him. “Made good progress today,” he said. “Maya... she tried to turn on her side. The nursery; well, I just need to fix up that dresser and—”

“Look, thank you. But I’m really tired, Joel.”

She said it without looking at him, her voice level, no bite to it. Just a statement. A locked door. He should’ve expected it, should’ve shrugged it off and moved on. Instead, something about the words, directed at him, sat wrong inside him. All that hurt-people-hurt-people-drivel that Maria used to say came back to bite him in the ass.

He hesitated, shifting his weight onto his feet. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I should get going.”

She said nothing. Just shut off the faucet, dried her hands on a towel, and walked past him, close enough that the damp heat of her skin lingered for half a second longer than it should have. And despite fighting the urge to glance back at her as she left the room, he watched her disappear down the hall.

Joel stood outside her door for a long moment, which he had conscientiously locked, staring at the chipped paint of the doorframe, jaw clenching. His eyes flicked to the porch swing. It swayed slightly in the cold breeze.

Was it juvenile to think maybe she’d prefer his company? Was it fucking brainless of him to crave somewhere to belong? A purpose? Was he meant to die alone in a strange house and surrounded by empty whiskey bottles? Maybe. Probably. But hell if he didn’t wish it anyway.

Joel didn’t want to admit it—not directly, not even to himself—but he wanted to talk to her. Not about anything in particular. Not about that night in the Maranello, or how her little, breathy laugh was possibly the best thing to hear after those roars and clicks of the world beyond, or why she’d started looking at him instead of through him.

He just wanted something. Because before, there had been something. It wasn’t like talking to most people, where you had to pick your words apart before they even left your mouth, where you had to navigate bullshit small talk or forced pleasantries. With Leela, it had been... easy. Unspoken. A warm kind of quiet, the kind where he didn’t have to think too much, where he could just be.

He'll admit it, just this once—he liked that about her. He liked that a moment didn’t have to be forced. That he didn’t have to overthink, that they had a rhythm, a delicate system between them, one that made sense even if neither of them ever put words to it.

But now?

Now, she barely looked at him. Nowadays, when she passed Maya to him, it wasn’t with that quiet, knowing ease or a friendly grin, no matter how tired it had been—it was mechanical, transactional, like handing over a set of keys. Like a reminder that he wasn’t supposed to be here, and he didn’t know what to call that. Didn’t like the way it made his instincts turn over, uneasy, in his chest.

All that lingering had finally paid off, and Joel had found his way in. He wasn’t going to show it, of course—wasn’t gonna give himself away like some fool—but damn if he wasn’t relieved.

After days of unending cold shoulders, after all that stiff distance, this was the first real opening he’d gotten. An excuse. A way to talk to her without forcing it.

He had been fixing a flickering wall lamp that had been bugging him for some time now, in the second-floor hallway, standing on a step stool when—

CRASH.

The whole house plunged into darkness. The light he’d been working on blinked out, along with the rest of them, and then—a groan. A pained, breathy, hitched groan from below. His entire body tensed before his brain caught up.

Then came the wailing. Maya.

Joel’s heart stammered, caught between two instincts. The damn near gutting sound of the baby girl's frightened cries and that groan—that voice—he'd distinctly heard from the basement.

Fuck. His feet moved before his mind did. He leapt off the stool, tools cluttering to the floor, ignoring the protesting ache in his knees as he tore down the hall to Maya’s room. She was red-faced, eyes squeezed shut, fists curled as she screamed, trembling from the shock.

"Hey, hey, Maya," Joel hushed, scooping her up into his arms, and pulling her against his chest. "S'okay, sweetheart. I got you. I got you."

He shushed her, palm stroking warm circles over her back, bouncing her lightly in his arms. His heartbeat was loud, hammering in his ears, drowning everything out but the damn groan still hanging in his mind.

Leela.

She was down there, in that cursed basement, alone. And that sound had been awful.

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, pressing his lips to Maya’s head before pulling back. More for himself rather than her.

“I'm right here, baby. Nothin’ to be scared of.” His voice was steady—measured—but his hands weren’t. His grip on her was a little too tight. They trembled a little.

Maya sniffled, her cries quieting just enough to slow his pulse, and he took that as his chance. Keeping her tucked to his chest, he made his way down the stairs, near flying, boots thudding against the wood.

His breath hitched as he reached the basement door. “Hey, you down here?” he called, shoving it open with his shoulder, jogging down to the dim space below.

Then he saw her.

Leela was slumped against the wall, obvious that she had been tossed into it, her silhouette barely lit by the glare of an emergency lamp in the corner. She was gripping her shoulder fiercely, rubbing it like she was trying to erase the pain. Her fingers dug in hard.

The remnants of her little "science project" upgrade lay scattered around her. Loose wires, metal scraps, a circuit board still humming with life. The main plug socket was connected. Was she fucking stupid? There was a baby upstairs, and she was ready to risk her home for that dumbass machine.

And her face—Fuck. She had gone pale. Eyes squeezed shut. Her chest rose and fell like she was working through an intense wave of pain.

“Christ.” The word came out more like a breath than anything. Joel took a step forward, but when his eyes landed on the tangled wires, something burned under his ribs.

“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” His voice came out rougher than intended, fear clawing at his throat, disguising itself as frustration.

Leela’s eyes fluttered open, hazy but sharp. “I’m okay. I’ll be fine.” She held up a hand to stop him before he could kneel down beside her. “Just a bit of bruising. Maya first.”

Joel clenched his jaw.

She was right. Damn it, he hated that she was right. Maya, now hiccupping soft little breaths against his chest, was the priority.

“Right,” he muttered, though the reluctance in his voice was clear. He cast her one last look, making sure she was still upright, still breathing normal, before turning back up the stairs.

It took ten whole minutes to get Maya settled, and that was a miracle in itself. He'd resorted to pleading under his breath, but she had continued to watch him, eyes wide, refusing to let sleep take her like she knew something was wrong. She was perceptive. Just like her mother.

Finally, finally, her little lashes fluttered shut, her tiny hand still gripping onto his shirt.

Joel exhaled, relief going awash his tension. “Good girl,” he murmured, before unfurling her fingers from his collar, brushing a kiss over them and laying her back down.

Then he was sprinting again. Back down the stairs, faster than he should have been, hand gripping the railing tight.

Leela hadn’t moved much. She was still slumped against the basement wall, her breaths deep and restrained—like she was trying to breathe the pain away.

Joel came down to a crouch by her feet. “Hey.”

“I'm fine, Joel, really,” she assured quietly.

Though, he could tell she was pissed at herself. She hated being like this—vulnerable, hurting, unable to brush it off and acting like it didn’t happen. But Joel saw it. He saw her. How she'd tilted her head against the wall, eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling.

Leela truly was fine. Bruised, rattled—but fine.

Joel had checked her over once more, ensuring nothing was broken, no serious harm done, and he had to force himself to believe her when she said she’d be okay.

But her hands. Oh, Christ. The dim glow of the emergency lamp cast a dull shine over her skin, and that’s when he noticed—the raw, reddened patches along her fingertips. The unmistakable burn marks where the electricity must’ve bit into her.

"Shit." He exhaled sharply through his nose, scraping a hand down his beard as he stared at her fingers.

She must’ve seen the look on his face because she tucked her hands close to her stomach like she could make them disappear. “Seriously,” she murmured, voice hoarse. “I’ve had worse.”

Joel’s jaw ticked. She wasn’t wrong. And that made something in him burn even hotter.

“C’mon,” he muttered, nodding toward the stairs. “Up.”

Leela hesitated, but the way he stood—the way he waited—made it clear he wasn’t asking. So she sighed and pushed herself upright, and Joel stayed close, arms extended safely around her, watching the way she moved, the way her body reacted.

She didn’t stumble. Didn’t wobble. That was good. No concussion or broken bones. A knot in his chest loosened instantly.

Once they made it back upstairs, Joel had her sit at the kitchen table, lit up from the sunshine filtering through from the afternoon sun. He set a bowl of warm water down in front of her, the steam curling into the space between them. He grabbed a small tin of ointment after a bit of rustling through the cabinets, then a roll of gauze, then paused, eyes flicking to her.

She was watching him. Still. Silent. Waiting.

Joel breathed out, slow and even, then came back over, pulling a chair beside her. He reached for her wrist, gently, carefully, lifting her hands into his own. A silent ask. Permission. Lesson learned from the last time he'd touched her.

Leela tensed for half a second before sighing, letting him take them.

She was trying to play it off like it didn’t hurt. Like it was fine. But as soon as he dipped her fingertips into the warm water, she sucked in a quiet breath through her teeth.

Joel’s grip tightened just a little. He tried to squeeze everything he had felt these past few days into a single word—“Sorry.”

He worked, taking it slow, gently swiping away the dust and grime, watching the way her skin flinched under the heat. His thumbs moved gradually, steadily, like he was afraid to make it worse.

“Y’gotta be more careful,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. “Damn wires ain’t worth all this. Remember, you’ve got someone countin’ on you.”

Leela let out a soft, tired laugh. “I didn’t know I had a nanny now.”

Joel shot her a look. “You don’t. You got me.”

She blinked at that.

Her lips parted slightly, but whatever she was about to say, she thought better of it. Instead, she let him work, let him take care of her, and trusted his instincts, and that felt like something neither of them was ready to acknowledge just yet.

Once her hands were cleaned, he dried them carefully, mindful of the more sensitive spots, before smoothing ointment over each burnt fingertip.

Leela twitched. “Ow.”

Joel grunted. “Ain’t gonna feel good, but it’ll keep it from blisterin’ too bad.”

He finished wrapping the gauze around her fingers, slow and precise, making sure they weren’t too tight. Leela stared down at her hands when he was done, flexing her fingers slightly, testing the bandages like she wasn’t sure what to make of them. Three fingers on each hand.

Joel blew out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face as he took in the house.

It was quiet. Too damn quiet. God, he hated this. That unnatural kind, where something had been cut short too suddenly—like the whole place had been stunned into silence. The shot-out lights overhead blinked weakly before finally dying out for good, leaving nothing but the cold creeping in from every corner.

It was already setting in. The draft slithered through the cracks in the windows, curling around his ankles, and sinking into the wood beneath his feet. The thermostat had shut off along with the rest of the power, which meant no heat. Not with how damn cold it got out here. Jesus, he'd forgotten to tuck some extra layers around Maya.

His eyes swept the room. A busted power grid. A rattled woman nursing bruises. A two-month-old baby upstairs who didn’t know a damn thing about survival, who didn’t understand that warmth wasn’t something she could just take for granted.

And this woman—this stubborn, frustrating woman—was already trying to stand up like she hadn’t just been thrown into a wall.

"I'll go check it out. Don't worry, Joel, I know what to do," Leela offered, pushing herself up.

Joel shot out a hand, firm, stopping her before she could get any further.

"You ain't fixin’ shit, you hear me?" His voice came out rougher than he intended, but hell if he cared. "Sit your damn ass down. You're stayin' at my place till I get this sorted."

The prospect did not sit well with her. He could see it in the way her jaw clenched, her eyes flicking to the window like she was already searching for another solution.

She shook her head. "I can't—"

"That's not an option."

She looked at him then, her brows drawing together. And he knew what she saw—knew she saw that hard-set determination in his face, the part of him that had already made up his mind.

What she didn’t see—what he’d never let her see—was the way his chest was burning with something too tight, too damn close to fear.

Because he’d walked into cold houses before. Knew what happened when the temperature dropped too low. Had seen bodies frozen stiff in the middle of the night, curled up as if that had been enough to keep them warm. Had seen what happened when people thought they could tough it out. He'd rather never see or smell that ever again.

Now, Leela thought she could tough it out. But he wasn’t about to let her gamble with a baby’s warmth just to prove a damn point. And if she thought this was some kind of negotiation, she was dead wrong. Because he wasn’t giving her a choice.

He exhaled slowly, grounding himself, softening the edges just enough so he wasn’t barking orders at her like some kind of drill sergeant.

“Just for a while,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Till I can fix whatever the hell you fucked up down there.”

Leela didn’t answer right away, lips pressing into a thin line. But she wasn’t stupid.

She glanced up toward the stairs, toward where Maya was still sleeping. Then back at him. Joel could see the exact moment she gave in. Her shoulders slumped as she relented.

He nodded, standing up, already running through what needed to be done. “Good. I'll go bundle up the kid.”

X

Joel hasn't exactly planned to have company. Ever.

Maria and Tommy showed up sometimes. Ellie, too—though not without complaint. She claimed the place smelled like old people and swore visiting would tank her cool factor. But even when they came around, he never let them stay too long. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen, before he was ushering them out the door with a gruff, Alright, get on, and some excuse about needing to be up early. It wasn’t that he didn’t like having people around. It was just—his place wasn’t made for that. He hadn’t made it for that.

It was single floor, nice and compact. He slept on the pullout couch in the living room. Not because he didn’t have that one really sweet bedroom, but because it was easier nowadays—closer to the door, closer to the window that faced the big white house across the street. His sink was a mess of dishes from last night, crusted over and rotting in the stale air. His cabinets weren’t stocked with food so much as they were with whiskey and coffee.

He came home. He ate. He slept. He woke up. Showered. Left. That was it. That was his life. It was enough and to spare.

So when Leela and Maya showed up at his front door, he wasn’t prepared. Not in the slightest.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, stepping aside to let her in. “Come on, then.”

Leela ducked inside first, shaking the cold from her coat, eyes flicking around the place as if she were already judging him for it. And maybe she was. Hell, Joel sure as shit would. Because this—this eyesore—was how she was gonna see him. As some tired, deadbeat old man who hadn’t even tried.

Maya stirred against her chest, her little hands fisting in the collar of Leela’s coat.

Joel cleared his throat and reached for her automatically. He needed his calm here. “C’mere, baby girl.”

She squealed at the sound of his voice, squirming, her small fingers flexing, gripping the fabric of his flannel before she finally settled against him, warm and soft. Joel let out a quiet breath through his nose, a strange kind of tightness unwinding from his ribs. He hadn’t even realized he’d been bracing for something.

“She can stay with me,” Leela said softly, slipping out of her coat.

Joel shook his head. “Nah, you get some rest. You’re takin’ the room down the hall.”

Leela blinked, surprised. “And you?”

Joel busied himself with Maya, playing catch and release with her tiny fists, letting her grab onto his finger before slipping it away. “I’ll be fine. Got the couch.”

She frowned. “But you’ve got that bad back.”

Joel sighed, jaw twitching. “Yes, ma'am. Thanks for noticin’.”

Leela’s mouth quirked slightly, just a little, but enough that it softened something in her expression. “You should take the bed, Joel.”

He hummed, shaking his head, shifting Maya a little higher against his chest. “You just shot into a wall and burned yourself, darlin’. I think you’re entitled to a bed.”

She tilted her head at him, her brow pinching together like she was trying to figure something out.

Joel stared back, more stubborn than apprehensive, his grip tightening just a fraction around Maya’s small body.

He wasn’t sure what it was, that look of hers. But damn if it didn’t make him feel like he was seen in a way he wasn’t used to. Like she was really looking at him—not the grumpy bastard everyone in Jackson thought he was, not the fixer, not the old guy sleeping his way through life—but him.

Joel shifted on his feet, clearing his throat. “Look, you’re takin’ the bed, that’s that. Maya can sleep next to you, so she’ll be closer.”

Leela was still staring at him, quiet for a long beat.

Then eventually she sighed. “Okay.”

It wasn’t much, but it felt like that little something Joel had wanted. Like an inch of the cold between them had finally cracked, let some warmth in.

Look, of course, Joel had always known his house was too damn small. He just hadn’t felt it until now.

There was no privacy to be had, not really. The pullout couch in the living room faced the bedroom door, left cracked open just enough for him to see the gentle rise and fall of Maya’s little body curled against where Leela would sleep later. The bathroom was the only one in the house, meaning if she needed it in the middle of the night, she’d have to walk past him to get there.

Not much space. Not much distance.

So when he heard the soft shuffle of her feet against the wood floor, he wasn’t surprised. He didn’t even have to look up from the guitar in his hands to know she’d wandered further inside, drawn toward the small corner of the living room where he kept his workspace.

It was a cramped setup—a shabby studio table shoved against the wall, two half-finished guitars resting on stands nearby. He’d only just started working on them, but it gave his hands something to do, something to create.

Leela’s fingers grazed over the unfinished wood, her touch featherlight. “I didn’t know you were this talented. A luthier.”

Joel chuckled, leaning back against the wall. “Layin’ it on a bit thick.”

She ignored him, curiosity guiding her hands as she thumbed over the strings. A quiet hum vibrated through the air, not a real note, just a sound. She tilted her head, listening.

“Would you make one for me when you have time to spare?” she asked, glancing up. “I’d love to learn.”

Joel almost laughed, because—yeah. Yeah, he’d drop dead before refusing that. “‘Course,” he said, voice low but certain.

Leela’s eyes found it too easily, drawn in like a moth to an old light. He almost wished he'd hid it away.

The picture that had survived time and death, sat on the corner shelf, tucked between a coil of guitar strings and a worn-out rag, the frame dull with dust he never bothered to wipe away. The glass was cracked, a thin vein running through the top left corner, but it didn’t matter. The image was still there. She was still there.

Sarah, grinning wide, her curls bouncing as she leaned into him, arms slung around his shoulders. Joel remembered that day. He’d taken her out to some shitty little carnival on the edge of town, and let her sucker him into one of those rigged ring toss games. She’d won a stuffed bear—cheated, more like, because the booth worker had taken pity on her—and held onto it the whole night like it was the greatest thing in the world.

She looked happy. They looked happy.

And it hit him—like it always did, like it always would—how long it had been since he’d last heard her voice. Since she’d called him 'Dad!' in that exasperated, teasing way of hers. Since she’d looked at him like he was the safest place she’d ever known.

Leela didn’t say anything. She didn’t even reach for it, didn’t let her gaze linger too long. Just acknowledged it, felt it, then moved past it, like she understood that some ghosts weren’t meant to be disturbed. Let them rest.

Joel swallowed. It wasn’t often that someone gave him that kind of space—left his past untouched, let him sit with it without trying to crack it open.

She leaned back against the edge of the desk, brushing her fingers through her hair again—one of those little habits of hers, nervous and absentminded. The strands were overgrown, frayed at the ends, and he knew she probably didn’t have the time to fix it, or maybe just didn’t care enough to. He should tell Maria to give her a trim.

But, she wasn’t wearing that pearl-buttoned nightdress tonight. This one was blue. Smooth. Loose-fitting. The frilled sleeves barely touched her shoulders, and it wasn’t anything special, not really, but—he liked it. That colour looked pretty on her skin.

The thought settled in his chest like an itch he didn’t know how to scratch.

Leela watched her fingers trail absently over the wood grain of the desk. “I owe you an apology, Joel,” she murmured, her voice quieter now.

Joel listened and didn’t speak, just let the words settle between them.

“For how I’ve been treating you.” She swallowed, gaze flicking up to him, uncertain but steady. “You’ve only ever helped me, and you're so good with Maya. I know it wasn’t fair of me to just… shut you out.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

But she wasn’t convinced. She hesitated, jaw tensing, lips parting slightly before pressing shut again. There was something she wanted to say like it was dislodged deep, festering, in her chest.

“That night in the car…” She took a breath like it might help balance her. It didn’t. “It wasn't you. I had—before Maya, I was—there was—”

Joel knew that look. The way her throat bobbed, her fingers curling against the desk like she needed something solid to hold onto. Holding herself together. He didn’t let her unravel, just not tonight.

“Stop,” he said, gentle but firm. “You don’t have to explain.”

Leela blinked at him, studying his face, like she was trying to decide if he meant it. So he shrugged, forcing a small, easy grin.

“Perks of havin’ me around. I don’t care for the details.”

A small breath of laughter escaped her. Real, unguarded, softening the edges of her face. He loved to see it on her. “That's a relief.”

Joel leaned forward, rubbing his palm over his knee, the dull ache settling in from the long day.

His voice was lower when he spoke. “It’s just nice to be there, y’know?” He wasn’t good at this—saying shit like this—but it began to get easier with her. “With Maya. And you. There's more purpose than just shooting things beyond the fence.”

Something flickered across Leela’s face.

Her fingers brushed the edge of the desk, and her knuckles paled with how tightly she gripped it. “You’re welcome home anytime, Joel. My door’s always open for you.”

Joel’s chest pulled tight.

He looked at her. And he thought about that damn oak door, how she never locked it, how he’d always given her hell for it in his head. And how, for the first time, it didn’t feel like carelessness.

It felt like trust. Not in this boring town of survivors. But in the neighbour across the street who'd ferreted his way into their lives.

Leela took a slow breath, glancing down before meeting his eyes again. “So, you don’t have to come around just to fix things next time.”

Her voice was softer now. And then—something else. A small, almost shy laugh slipped past her lips, barely there, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to say this next part out loud.

“Come to eat. To talk. To see Maya.” A beat. “And me.”

Joel felt it then—the shift. It wasn’t big, wasn’t some grand, earth-shaking thing. But it was there. He felt it.

"Maya loves you so much."

Joel glanced at her, unable to hold back the sympathy. He should’ve just let it sit. Should’ve just nodded, grunted something, and let the conversation move on. But instead, he said, low, “That bothering you?”

Leela hesitated, but only for a second. Then she sighed, rubbing a hand over her neck. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe.”

Joel stayed quiet, watching her.

She let out a quiet, humourless laugh. “It’s just... I don’t feel like her mother. Not really.” Her voice was even, but he could hear the strain underneath, the sharp edge of something she didn’t want to say aloud. “I do everything I’m supposed to. Feed her. Hold her. Change her. But it’s just... a list to get through.” She exhaled, shaking her head. “I thought it would be different. I know it's such an awful thing to say.”

Joel felt that like a punch to the gut. He knew what she meant. Knew how goddamn isolating it could be—to go through the motions, do the right thing, and still feel like you’re on the outside looking in.

“She’s yours, darlin',” he said after a moment. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing—at making sense of feelings, at giving comfort. He was trying. “That’s what matters. Sometimes it's not a magic switch, you can't just flip it on and feel it. Sometimes, you grow to love someone. Over time, energy, effort.”

Leela scoffed, quiet, barely there. “That all it takes?”

“No,” Joel admitted. “But it’s good enough.”

She finally looked at him then, something cautious in her expression, something raw. He didn’t push. Didn’t try to say anything else. Just let the silence stretch, easy and open, not asking for more than she was willing to give.

Leela swallowed, nodding slightly, like she was tucking the words away, considering them.

The space between them, once weighed down by hesitation, by careful sidesteps and unspoken rules, felt… lighter. Like the tension that had settled into the cracks between their words was finally easing, letting some warmth slip through.

And that? That did something to him.

His throat worked around something unspoken, and he rolled his shoulders back, shifting from feet to feet, like he could physically shake whatever the hell was loose inside him. The words that wanted to come didn’t.

Instead, he settled on something simpler. Something safer.

“You should get some rest.”

Leela’s gaze lingered, searching, like she was trying to read something in his face. Then she nodded, flashing a grin. “Sure,” she murmured. “Goodnight, Joel.”

Joel held her gaze for a moment longer. His fingers flexed at his sides, a familiar itch settling in his chest, the kind that always came when he stood in doorways when someone was walking away and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to follow or stay put.

He watched her retreat into the room, disappear behind the cracked door, and stand there for a moment before finally turning away.

The door was open again. And that was the thing about doors.

They worked both ways.

X

While on the road, Joel had spent years sleeping in places that barely counted as beds. Hard ground. Rusted truck seats. Creaking, sagging mattresses in abandoned buildings where one wrong turn meant waking up dead. Even now, safe inside these walls, inside this town where people thought fences and routine were enough to keep the bad out, behind homes with locked doors—well, should have locked doors—he never truly slept deep.

Always on alert. Always half-ready. Even in the comfort of a home he could call his.

Joel lay on the couch, stiff as the thing itself, staring into the rough fabric. He wasn’t asleep—he never really was—but he kept his back turned anyway. It felt like the right thing to do, a courtesy or some form of privacy in a house too damn small to actually have any.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that. Long enough for the warmth of the fire to ebb. Long enough to hear the wind pick up outside, rattling at the windows. Long enough to wonder if Leela had finally managed to fall asleep.

He exhaled through his nose and, without really thinking about it, rolled over onto his side, eyes shifting toward the bedroom.

Leela was out cold.

Her hair had been pulled back into a loose braid, but strands had escaped, curling softly against her cheek. One hand dangled into the mattress as if she’d fallen asleep patting Maya and never quite finished. He could see the slow rise and fall of her chest, deep and steady, her body given over to exhaustion.

Joel frowned as his eyes drifted lower. The blanket had slipped, barely covering her waist, her legs left bare to the chill of the night. One knee peeked out, the curve of it catching the dim, murky light of the bedside lamp. He felt his jaw tighten, his fingers flexing at his side. Wasn’t she cold?

But then his eyes landed on the baby in front of her, and the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding eased right out of him.

Maya was not asleep. Flat on her back, legs kicking sharp, barbed movements, her tiny fingers flexing in the air, opening and closing like she was trying to grab something invisible. Every so often, she let out a soft little coo, her breath light, testing, careful not to wake her mother.

Joel squinted. Lifted his head a little. Maybe she was just shifting in her sleep.

Nope, the kid was fully awake. Big, round eyes blinking up at the ceiling, mouth open in a little round ‘o’ of discovery, her hands reaching for her own damn feet, like she’d only just realized they were attached to her.

He huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. He could just leave her be. She wasn’t crying. Wasn’t fussing. She'd fall asleep on her own.

But then she spotted him.

Her entire little body bucked, like the excitement was too much for her tiny limbs to contain. A bright, panting laugh bubbled from her mouth, and her hands curled, fists flailing like wanted to launch herself toward her.

Joel sighed. That was it. No walking away now.

Ignoring the slow, persistent cramp in his back, he shifted, pressing his hands into the pullout and pushing himself upright. His knees popped when he stood, and he winced, rolling his shoulders as he made his way into the bedroom. The floor groaned under his feet, but Leela didn’t stir. She was too far gone, too lost to the bruises and the exhaustion pressing her under.

Maya, on the other hand—beamed up at him, wiggling harder, completely unbothered by the late hour, her tiny hands batting at the air.

Joel sighed through his nose and crouched down beside the bed. He held up a finger to his lips. “Ssh, ssh,” he murmured like she had any damn understanding of the concept.

Her fists continued to flail, little feet kicking the air, and he sighed, leaning down to scoop her up. She fit into his arms easily, the way she always did—small and naming the nook to herself, all warm skin and bundled sleepiness. Sleep fired right out of his system.

“You're gonna wake your poor mama,” he whispered to her.

Shifting Maya against his chest, he glanced at Leela again. She hadn’t moved a muscle, fast asleep. But the blanket had slipped low, barely covering her waist, her arms left uncovered to the cold.

Joel hesitated for only a second before leaning over, taking the edge of the comforter and tucking it around her, careful not to wake her. The fabric pooled at her shoulder, and she sighed quietly in her sleep, sinking into the warmth of the bed, but not waking.

Good. She was finally catching up on sleep. When was the last time he'd seen that girl rest? Never. She'd always woken up the earliest, wandering between her papers and blackboards in the living room.

Maya let out a content little hum against his shoulder, and Joel blew out a breath, stepping back out of the bedroom and into the dimly lit living room. He wasn’t going to bother putting her back on the bed. She was too awake for that.

Instead, he plunged back onto the couch, settling into the cushions and adjusting her against his chest. She curled into him easily, her featherlight weight pressing against his ribs. She hummed again, a soft, breathy little thing, and then—one of her fists landed against his sternum with a dull thump.

Joel huffed, peering down at her. “You tryin’ to knock the wind outta me, trouble?”

Maya lifted her head to blink up again, dark eyes round and glassy in the dim light, looking like she had something important to say. Then her fist lifted again, this time smacking more of a lazy pat than anything with real intent.

He narrowed a playful glare on her, shifting her a little higher against him. He poked at her cheek. “We got some problems, or is this just your way of lettin’ me know you’re still awake?”

She didn’t answer—fucking obviously—but she did something close to it. Her mouth rounded in a small, exaggerated ooh, and her fingers fumbled against his shirt before one of them caught onto his.

Joel felt the soft, clumsy pull of her grip, then the unmistakable wet warmth of her mouth closing around the tip of his finger.

He grimaced, but not in any real discomfort. “Great, there you go. You're lucky you're so beautiful.”

Maya suckled lazily, brows furrowing like she was concentrating really hard on the task, and Joel exhaled, letting her gnaw as much as she wanted.

Joel stared at the ceiling, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing slow, careful circles against her back.

She was a happier baby now. Not screaming. Not crying as much. Just there. Comfortable and safe.

He swallowed against the feeling mashing against his ribs. His jaw unclenched, let his head fall back against the couch, eyes slipping shut. And he let out the longest breath known to man.

It had been years—years since he’d felt this weight, this warmth, this need pressed against him. It was a different life, a different world, but somehow, it wasn’t. His body still knew this, still remembered the rhythm of it, the quiet intimacy of a baby trusting him enough to just be here, curled up against his chest, with no fear, no hesitation.

And goddamn him, but he loved it. Loved the small breaths puffing against his collarbone. Loved the way she looked up at him, slow and sleepy, tapping her tiny knuckles against him like she was checking to make sure he was still there. Loved that he didn't have to think about anything, not feel like the whole world was closing in.

Loved this.

He wasn’t thinking about the past. No, he wasn’t. But if he was, he sure as hell wouldn’t admit it.

The sound of the front door unlocking jolted him.

Joel’s eyes snapped open, his entire body tensing for a fight as his hand instinctively curled around Maya’s small back, protective, ready. His other hand curled into a loose fist at his thigh.

The door eased open with a quiet creak, and a familiar silhouette stepped inside.

Ellie.

“Joel?” she whispered, peering at him in confusion.

Joel just stared at her. Not because she was here—she was always stopping by when she damn well pleased—but because for the first time in his life, he was the one who forgot to lock the damn door.

Maya shifted against his chest, making a soft noise, her tiny fingers still curled around his. Joel gave her a small, reassuring bounce as if she’d needed one.

Ellie, meanwhile, was still standing there, taking in the sight of him on the couch, a whole baby in his arms, and the bedroom door cracked open just enough to hint at the woman asleep inside. The pretty neighbour that had Joel all riled up.

Her eyebrows lifted and mouth twitched as she crossed her arms. “This isn’t a hostage situation, right? Am I an accomplice now?”

Joel sent her a flat look. “Whatever gave that away?”

Ellie then continued to stare at him and at Maya.

It was the kind of look Joel had gotten used to over the years, the one where she tried to figure out if she was hallucinating. Because she’d seen Joel Miller do a lot of things—wrangle Clickers, nurse a cold one, fix up a rifle—but sitting on his couch, cradling a whole-ass baby like that? It was a new one. Like unlocking a new character in a video game.

Her lips pressed together, eyes still flicking between him and the kid, and then—she snorted.

“Oh, man,” she whispered, shaking her head, a shit-eating grin spreading over her face. “I wish I had a camera to capture this gold.”

Joel sighed. “Alright, get on with it.”

Grinning, Ellie plopped herself down beside him, the whole couch shaking, immediately leaning in close to peer at Maya. Almost as if she was the first infant she'd seen in her life.

“Hi, baby,” she cooed, voice going all high-pitched and ridiculous. “Hiiii.”

Maya blinked at her, unmoving, her fists curled safely in her mouth, her tiny brows furrowing as if she were trying to figure out just who the hell this new person was.

Ellie wiggled a finger in front of her. “Here. Go on, grab it.”

Maya did not. She just kept staring, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, utterly mystified by the sudden intrusion.

Joel huffed. “Guess she ain’t impressed.”

“Guess she’s got taste, you dick,” Ellie shot back. Then, her face softened, a little smirk curling her lips. “She’s fucking adorable. Look at those eyes, damn.” Joel barely had time to process the warmth that spread through his chest before Ellie tacked on, “So, definitely not yours.”

His scoff came out before he could stop it. “Oh, real funny, kid.”

Ellie chuckled, finally settling back against the couch, still watching Maya like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “How come they’re here?”

Joel didn’t go into the details, never liked to. About Leela’s bruises, about how she’d been too damn stubborn for her own good, about how he’d practically had to drag her in here to sleep in his bed.

Instead, he just muttered, “Blackout. Gonna head back in the morning and check it out.”

Ellie hummed like she knew there was more to it but didn’t feel like prying.

For a while, they just sat there in silence, and Joel simply let himself watch. The room was dim, the fire in the hearth burned low, throwing flickering shadows across the worn wooden floors. The cold pressed against the windows, creeping in through the cracks, but in here, it was warm—quiet, steady. Both in him and around him.

Ellie leaned in closer, her breath puffing softly against Maya’s round little cheek as she wiggled her fingers in front of her face. “What about this? You like this?” she murmured, tapping her tiny nose, and making a series of stupid clicking sounds.

Maya blinked, floored by this, her wide eyes tracking Ellie’s every move like she was watching the most fascinating thing in the world.

It took another few moments, but then—finally—Maya’s tiny fingers reached out, wrapping shyly around Ellie’s outstretched one. Not tight, not possessive, just curious. Testing.

Joel felt that feeling again, twisting deep in his ribs, imperceptive and calm and unnameable. He could get used to that feeling. It plugged every scar, physical and mental, until his shoulders felt ten times lighter.

The kid he’d sort of raised, playing with the baby he was yet to.

And for the first time in a long time, that muddle just… settled. It was late, too late in life for this kind of thing. But hell, cut him some slack.

Joel exhaled slowly, staring into the last of the fire, watching as the embers pulsed and flickered, struggling to stay alive. His hand absently smoothed over Maya’s back, following the slow rise and fall of her breathing, feeling the tiny weight of her against his chest. She was still. Not fussing. Just there.

Ellie shifted beside him, stretching her legs out, resting her arms against her knees. She wasn’t in a hurry to fill the silence. She just sat there, watching him in that way of hers, like she saw more than she let on.

“So,” she finally said, voice casual. “How’re things between you and…?”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Just flicked her chin toward the bedroom.

Leela was still dead to the world, sunk into the kind of sleep that didn’t let you turn over, didn’t let you dream. Her hand had slipped out from beneath the blanket, fingers curled loosely against the mattress. He wondered how long it had been since she’d let herself rest like that, without one ear open for some threat, without her body coiled tight, waiting for the next hang-up.

Joel looked away. He shifted slightly, adjusting Maya, keeping his voice even. “There’s nothing between us.”

Ellie hummed like she wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, no shit.” She stretched her arms behind her head, smirking. “She’s way out of your league.”

Joel snorted, shaking his head. “No argument here.”

He didn’t need Ellie to tell him that. He was thickheaded, but he wasn't blind. Leela was… Leela. Stunning in that exotic way, compassionate as a human, insanely intelligent. And him? What was he exactly, a cut-throat? A fighter? A relentless fucking human who just refused to die? Twenty years ago, a woman like that wouldn’t have given him the time of day, much less a second glance. A girl like her, back in the world before, would’ve had a whole life ahead of her, a whole set of possibilities. Not this. Not him.

And maybe that’s how it should’ve been. Maybe that’s why this didn’t make any sense.

He tensed his grip on Maya and felt the way she instinctively burrowed against him, curling her little fingers into the fabric of his shirt. She cooed again, watching his mouth move to form words.

He could be something for her. If Leela wanted it, he could carve out a space in Maya's life, be her constant, be her safety net. Hell, be this baby girl's father. He would compromise in a blink. That was different. That was right.

But having Leela herself? That was something else entirely. That was dangerous. That was selfish. There were too many ways it could go wrong. Too many ways it would end badly.

Not because of him, or her, or anything either of them did—just because that was the way life went. He wasn’t made for this kind of thing anymore. Wasn’t built for it. He was too damn old, too set in his ways. And even if she—somehow—wanted this, wanted him, what then? How long until he fucked it up? How long until he lost it?

The way he always did.

He swallowed hard. “I’m too old for her,” he managed to mutter.

Ellie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You're fucking kidding. The world ended. There is no standard. And you still care about what, an age gap? Brownie points? Jesus, Joel. You've been through too much to care.”

Joel didn’t answer right away. Just kept his gaze on the fire, jaw tight.

It wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about how it looked or what people would say. Hell, no one would care. He wouldn't care. They were past that kind of bullshit.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t still impossible.

Because Joel knew himself. He knew what it was like to want something real, to care about someone so much it hollowed you out from the inside. And he knew how fast it could all go to hell.

It was about the fact that she still had so much time. That she could still find someone real, someone better. That she deserved more than a haunted, greying man, who could barely sleep through the night, combing through his days, who lived waiting for the next thing to go wrong.

And she deserved better than a man too tired, too worn down by life, to give her more than what little he had left.

Ellie sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Y’know…” she started, then stopped.

Joel glanced at her, brow furrowing slightly.

She didn’t go on right away. Just drummed her fingers against her knee, staring into the fire, her face unreadable. For once, she wasn’t running her mouth, wasn’t making a joke to cut through whatever was settling between them. She was thinking. That alone put him on edge.

Finally, she said, “It’s different. These last few weeks. Even Tommy sees it.”

Joel frowned, not at the words themselves, but at the way she said them—slow, cautious, like she wasn’t just talking to him but trying to make sense of it for herself.

Ellie had always been good at reading him, sometimes better than he wanted. But this—this was different.

She flitted her gaze toward the bedroom, where Leela was still out cold, her body barely stirring under the blankets. Then to Maya, curled up against him, tiny fingers tangled in his shirt, her soft weight pressed into his chest. Finally, she looked back at him.

She didn’t spell it out. Didn’t need to.

Joel swallowed, shifting slightly where he sat, adjusting Maya’s weight in his arms. His hand smoothed down her back, more out of habit than anything else. He glanced toward the bedroom too, toward Leela, who hadn’t moved an inch. Yes, it was different.

But Ellie wasn’t done. She hesitated, rolling something over in her head before finally letting it out.

“It’s… good, y’know? You having this nice thing.” She waved a vague hand toward the baby, toward Leela. “You don't usually let yourself have nice things. Something that’s not just me.”

Joel’s breath caught.

Ellie had always been his reason for waking up in the morning, the one thing keeping him tethered to whatever life he had left. And she knew that. Knew it in the way she carried herself, in the way she fought with tooth and claw to prove she didn’t need him to keep her standing. That he had his own life. But now, sitting there, she wasn’t mocking, wasn’t teasing. She was just… saying it. And she was goddamn right.

For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just pushing forward because he had to, wasn’t just surviving out of habit. He wasn’t looking over his shoulder, waiting for the axe to fall.

He had something to come back to. Something steady. Something small and warm and his, even if he didn’t know what the hell to do with it yet.

He looked down at Maya, at her tiny, trusting weight in his arms, at the way she twitched slightly in her sleep, lips parting around a breath. His hand smoothed over her back again.

Ellie saw the moment it clicked. The way his face shifted, just slightly. She smirked, satisfied. And that her good work here was done.

Then, just like that, she clapped her hands on her knees and stood up. “Well,” she said, voice slipping back into that familiar teasing lilt, “guess I’ll let you get back to your hostage situation.”

Joel rolled his eyes, settling deeper into the couch as Maya nuzzled against his chest. The kid was out cold now, her little fist still tangled in his shirt.

Ellie was already heading for the door when she threw out in a whisper, “Oh—almost forgot. Maria asked me to tell you to bring your girl by the dam sometime this week.” She smirked, holding up air quotes. “Said she’d like ‘inventor insight.’”

His expression deadpanned. “Maria ain’t letting her go anywhere near machines.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Ooh-kay. Controlling much?”

Joel gave her a warning look. “Ellie.”

She dismissed him with a wave. “I’ll just tell her myself.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, already seeing how that would go. If Leela knew Maria was interested, she’d want to help. She’d go, eager to prove herself, eager to be useful. And then she’d get herself hurt again, pushing past whatever limits she had, just like she always did. That wasn’t happening.

“She’s stayin’ away,�� he muttered. “She’ll go, then want to help. Overdo it. Get herself hurt or worse.” He gave Ellie a pointed look. “Better not.”

Ellie let out a sharp laugh, all evil intent. “And you’re telling me there’s nothing between you two?”

“Ellie,” he hissed, too fast, too sharp—just as Maya stirred slightly against his chest, her little face scrunching. He froze, holding his breath, waiting to see if she’d wake.

Ellie’s smirk was damn near insufferable.

“Denial,” she sang out, drawing out the word like it was the funniest thing she’d heard all day.

Joel sent her a flat look.

Ellie just wiggled her fingers in a wave and made for the door once more. “Night, old man.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving him alone in the quiet house, the fire crackling low in the hearth. Joel exhaled slowly, his hand smoothing absently over Maya’s back again.

Denial. Maybe. He wasn't ruling it out yet.

X

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[neeeooon]

How about Sae, Rin, Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri, Reo, Kunigami, Barou and Karasu inviting their s/o to meet their family, after some talking they ended up going somewhere (bathroom, water, etc.) but when they come back they see that their family show their s/o their embarrassing baby photos and stories. How would they react?

omg real tbh THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST!! 🤍 (i got it right this time, ty for letting me know 🫶)

when their family embarrasses them in front of you ;

bf bllk x gn!reader

itoshi sae

-> it was clear who the favorite was right away. for every one picture of rin hanging up, there were three of sae

-> he wasn’t very interested in having you meet his parents, but you insisted. now, after sitting through twenty minutes of the itoshi’s telling you all about their son’s accomplishments, you got it. “… i am very sorry for dragging you here.” “your apology is accepted. i’ll be back.”

-> he left you alone with his parents, to which they took you on a second tour through the house. “oh! and this was when he scored his first goal!” “… he’s only a baby..?” “he was born with talent!”

-> when sae finally returned, you shot him a desperate look, and he swooped in. “that’s great, ma. i have to be up early for practice.” “oh, okay, dear! it was nice meeting you, y/n.” “i’ll call.” and then you’re free

-> “what did they say while i was gone?” he asked on the drive home, and though it was dark, you could see the red tint to his ears. “not much. just that you were born with talent.” he groaned, embarrassed, and you laughed

itoshi rin

-> despite being the same people, meeting rin’s parents was nothing like meeting sae’s parents. even though you were there for their younger son only, they loved to talk about their oldest

-> annoyed, rin gave your leg a gentle squeeze to grab your attention. “i need some water” which meant “i need a breather or i’m gonna lose it”

-> he was only gone a minute, but when he returned, his mother had the scrapbook out and propped across her thighs as she pointed photos out to you

-> “oh! and this was right before rin jumped off the top of the slide and bit a hole through his tongue! he was such a… rambunctious child!”

-> when rin heard that, he all but materialized back in the living room and slapped the book shut. “okay, no more story times. let’s go.” you couldn’t help but laugh at how pink his cheeks were

isagi yoichi

-> you were a bit shocked because how could two people as lovely and caring as isagi’s parents raise something as cracked as your boyfriend?

-> “oh, yoichi was such a scaredy cat growing up! so scared of everything, he wouldn’t even put his clothes on!” “mom!” “he would run around naked! and his father would be chasing him with a towel—“ “mom!!” “okay, fine!”

-> isagi spent the rest of the dinner sulking, his ears burning like flares in humiliation as his parents went on and on about the kind of kid he was. you didn’t mind one bit, loving all the free blackmail material

-> “can we pretend that never happened?” he practically begged on the way back to yours, and you cackled manically. “there’s no way in hell, mr. scaredy cat—“ “i was, like, three or something!” “i’m kidding, babe! don’t lose your pants—“ “y/n!”

bachira meguru

-> bachira’s mom is the coolest person you’ve ever met, to the point where if you were the same age, you’d want her to be your best friend

-> when you met her for the first time, she was covered in various paints and dyes, and you were immediately drawn to her warm, confident aura. “y/n! it’s such a pleasure to finally meet you! meguru, can you get the tea from the fridge?”

-> once he was gone, she immediately collected your hands in hers and pulled you close. “has he told you about his monster friend?” “yes, ma’am—“ “oh, just yu is fine! ma’am makes me feel old.”

-> “ma!” bachira cried when he returned with the tea to find his mother showing you some paintings he’d done as a child while telling you what he was like back then. “oh, he was such a sensitive little boy… meg, so glad of you to finally join us!”

chigiri hyoma

-> oh my god, you’re so in love with chigiri’s family

-> you were nervous to meet them, but they were so immensely welcoming and made you feel comfortable that you forgot it was your first time meeting

-> “hyoma works so hard, y’know?” his sister sighed as she dropped some sugar into your tea. “when he was younger, before his accident, he used to be so cocky! he’d ask random people at school to race him all the time, and—“

-> and chigiri appears from helping their mom fold some laundry, his lips parted and cheeks nearly as red as his hair. “sis! is that really necessary?” “what? it’s a story of your growth!”

-> you could tell chigiri was embarrassed, maybe even a little ashamed of his younger self, but you quietly asked his sister to go on. “he’s grown a lot since then. been through a lot. he’s lucky to have you, y/n.” “you’re so embarrassing, sis..” “and you need to learn to respect your elders!”

mikage reo

-> you were a bit iffy about reo’s parents when you first met them. they weren’t necessarily strict, but their smiles felt forced and awkward

-> it wasn’t until reo slipped away to the restroom, leaving you alone with them, that they finally started some conversation. “… would you like to see little reo on his sixth birthday?” you were desperate to break the tension and nodded. “yes, please.”

-> one photo turned into two, two turned into three, and soon you were giggling along with reo’s mom as she told you stories you knew reo would never tell you himself

-> “he’s always had a soft spot for strays. the poor boy wanted a puppy so bad, he made one out of sticks and played with it until his father finally gave in! oh, welcome back, son!”

-> reo, red-faced and embarrassed, crossed his arms over his chest. “it wasn’t sticks… it was a stick. one.” you took his hand in yours and gave it a squeeze. “i’m sure you took very good care of your stick-dog.” “we’re leaving. bye!”

kunigami rensuke

-> kunigami’s parents love you, but his sisters love you

-> “ren, honey, do you mind helping me in the kitchen?” kunigami’s mother called, and he gave you a small smile before disappearing around the corner. leaving you alone with his two sisters

-> “did you know that rensuke picked his nose until he was, like, twelve?” the younger of the two confessed, shamelessly exposing her older brother. you choked on a laugh as the older nodded. “it’s true! also, he used to cry if anyone sang him a lullaby.”

-> kunigami’s spiky head appeared around the corner, shooting glares between his sisters as he asked, “you two aren’t trying to scare y/n off, are you?”

-> both sisters gaped at him. “absolutely not!! y/n is family now!” “yeah, we like them more than you!” “wha—?!”

barou shouei

-> unlike kunigami’s sisters, barou’s were more hesitant toward you. they grew up with barou more as a parental figure than a brother, were spoiled rotten by him, so meeting his partner was strangely daunting

-> barou’s mother immediately loved you. she set a cup of tea in your hands and rested a hand on your shoulder. “you’re a good one, y/n. i’ve heard nothing but sweet things about you.” you can’t help but blush. “thank you.”

-> “will you still love him when he cleans up after you 24/7?” “uh—“ “or when he gets sad when someone puts wafers in his pudding?” “i—“ “do you clean? shouei really needs to be with someone who likes cleaning, too—“ “girls!”

-> you were pulled away from the badgering sisters, who were blinking between you and barou innocently. “we’re just curious!” “yeah! you deserve the best, big brother!”

-> barou, clearly embarrassed, just ruffled their hair and sent them to play somewhere else. “sorry about them..” but you were smiling. “no, they’re lovely. they care about you, a lot!” your smile grew when barou reddened

karasu tabito

-> “my, what great bone structure you have~” “granny! yer freaking ‘em out!”

-> you tried to laugh, but your face was smushed between two old lady hands. karasu tried to distract her with his sweet smile while pulling you to safety, but you only ended up with his older sister, instead

-> “oh my gosh, tabito is so lucky to have someone like you. you know, when he was in middle school, he had this phase with painting his nails black—“ “okay, enough telling y/n about tabito’s emo era!” karasu cut in with a nervous chuckle

-> his sister rolled her eyes and pulled you down to sit with her. “and his hair!” she whispered, pulling her phone out. “wait, i have a ton of pics of him from when he was a preteen. look at how dumb and full of himself he looks, y/n!” “oh my god, his head!!” “right?! stupid tabito.”

-> the tabito in question is mildly offended and extremely disturbed to see his partner and his sister laughing at old photos of him, but he knows this is a game he’ll ever win

[httpsdana]

I saw that ur doing a fake-dating trope for pau but i think it would work so well for alejandro too 😭😭 maybe him and the read r both in la masia and he wants to get his family to stop pestering him about his partying habits so he convinces the reader to go along with it

Too Real~Alejandro Balde

・❥・prompt list

・❥・ masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who i write for

・❥・a/n: this will be my last post till the middle of march when i finish my finals 🫶🏻

“Fake date? Really?” y/n almost rolled her eyes at Alejandro’s words.

“Please. I just need my parents to get off my back for a while. They think all I do is go to parties and hang out with random girls,” he said.

y/n gave him a pointed look. “But that’s what you’re doing,”

He let out a sigh, his hands flopping by his sides. Then he looked down at her, his eyes pleading.

“Just one dinner. I promise it wouldn’t be bad. I really need you to do this to me,” he said, not breaking eye contact. The intensity of his gaze made her look away.

“And what do I get from all this?” she raised her eyebrows, making his face light up with hope.

“Anything you want,” he said with a smile.

“Can we get ice cream after that dinner,” she said, making him chuckle with an amused smile.

“I just gave you the chance to ask for whatever you want and you want ice cream?” he didn’t hide his amusement, his eyes looking softly at her.

Her cheeks flushed from the look of his eyes, trying to bite back a smile.

“Well yes, what did you expect?” she said

He shrugged. “I don’t know, but not this”

“Well I’m a simple girl who loves ice cream” she responded

“Which is why I chose you for this . My parents will love you,” he replied, reminding her about their main topic here.

“right…” she murmured, kind of regretting her decision but there was no turning back now.

“Don’t worry, preciosa. If you feel uncomfortable, we can leave as soon as we get there,” he suggested, making her nod.

Maybe this fake date can make him notice the crush she has had on him for so long now.

y/n let out a sigh as she glanced at herself in the mirror one last time. She made sure to look as good as possible, without making it seem that she’s trying too hard. A mid-length black dress that showed just enough skin, with thin straps and matching heels. Fixing her lipstick one last time, she took a deep breath as her phone rang on the nightstand.

Alejandro’s name appeared, making her heart skip a beat as she hit accept quickly.

“Hello?” she said nervously, her voice shaky.

“Hola preciosa, I’m almost at your house. Are you done, or do you need more time?” he asked.

“uh…No I'm finished,” she mumbled, not trusting her voice much.

“Don't be nervous. I’ll be by your side all evening,” His voice broke the silence. She didn’t know why but the softness in his words made her nerves ease a bit.

They hung up as Alejandro arrived, while she sprayed her perfume and got her purse, rushing down to open the door.

Alejandro stood there, wearing a full black suit with a bouquet of red roses. His eyes raked her body, taking in every detail of her before looking at her face.

She never felt more thankful that her makeup wouldn't show how flushed her face felt

“Hola hermosa,” he said, his voice charming like always.

“hey,” she murmured, suddenly finding more interest in the heels she was wearing

“These are for you,” he handed her the roses, watching how her face twisted in confusion.

“that's the least I could do for you,” he shrugged. “and my mom would kill me if she found out i picked up my ‘girlfriend’ without bringing her her favorite flowers”

She had so many questions. So many that the only one she managed to ask was, “how did you know I love roses?”

Alejandro grinned proudly, his smile wide.

“oh i remember you mentioned it before at one of the team dinners back in the day,” he said so casually.

Her heart leaped in her chest at his little confession. He remembered that?

“Come on gorgeous, we can't keep them waiting for too long,” he snapped her out of her thoughts.

She quickly placed the roses in some water and followed Alejandro to his car.

The drive to the restaurant was silent. She was too anxious to say a thing, to the point where Alejandro thought he had done something to upset her.

As they reached their destination, Alejandro got out of his seat and to her side of the door, opening it for her and helping her out of the car.

“You look breathtaking,” he whispered in her ear, before reaching down and intertwining their fingers. Her face burned from the compliment and all she could do was give him a small smile.

“take a deep breath. you'll be fine,” he mumbled, pressing a small kiss on her hair and starting to make their way inside, his hand never leaving hers.

The waiter led them to their table, where his parents and brother were sitting.

Alejandro watched her hesitation as she looked at his family. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before speaking

“This is y/n. My girlfriend,” he introduced. She gave them a soft smile reaching over to shake his mom’s hand at first, giving her the two traditional cheek kisses.

“When Ale told me you were beautiful I didn’t imagine you this gorgeous,” his mom said. And before she had the chance to look at Alejandro he cleared his throat.

“Let’s sit down shall we?” He moved a chair for her, helping her sit down before settling next to her.

“So tell us y/n, how did you and Alejandro meet?” his dad asked before sipping out of his glass of wine.

“Oh we were at La Masia together,” she answered politely

“You’re a football player too? How interesting,” his brother looked impressed, making her blush slightly.

“Yeah I’m still at Barca, not a starter like this one here though,” she nudged Alejandro with her shoulder, making him chuckle.

“You’ll get your chance, preciosa,” he murmured, making her smile softly at his words.

Dinner was surprisingly easy. Alejandro’s family was warm and welcoming, and y/n found herself enjoying their company more than she expected.

His mother was kind, always asking about her family. His father was a bit more reserved, but his questions were thoughtful.

And his brother? His brother was just like him; making jokes that had her laughing despite her nerves.

But what made the evening feel different, special, was Alejandro himself.

From the moment they sat down, he was all over her in ways that were subtle yet impossible to ignore.

His hand rested on the back of her chair as he played with some strands of her hair, his fingers brushing against her neck.

Then his fingers brushed over hers when she reached for the menu. And as the dinner continued, he grew bolder.

His hand casually found her thigh under the table, his thumb stroking lazy circles against her skin.

And the kisses.

They were brief, soft. Just enough to make her heart race.

A quick peck on her temple when his mom complimented how beautiful she was. A soft kiss to her shoulder as he whispered something low in her ear, his lips barely brushing her skin.

And the one that almost made her melt was the gentle kiss on her knuckles when his father asked about her football career, his dark eyes locking with hers in a way that felt far too real.

y/n knew they were supposed to be ‘pretending’, but Alejandro was making it so difficult.

“So, y/n,” his mother spoke up, pulling her out of her train of thoughts, “Ale told me you like to draw too. That must be exciting.”

y/n nodded, suddenly aware of Alejandro’s fingers still tracing patterns on her thigh. “Yeah, I draw in my free time. Haven’t had him model for me yet ” she nudged him playfully.

Alejandro smirked, tilting his head. “Maybe soon princesa.”

The way he said it so gently made her heart flutter.

His mom grinned at them. “I just love how supportive you are of each other. It’s beautiful.”

Alejandro’s grip on her hand tightened, and without hesitation, he lifted it to his lips, pressing a slow kiss to her fingers. “She’s easy to support,” he murmured. “She’s amazing.”

She swore she stopped breathing at his tone.

The rest of dinner was a blur. Between Alejandro’s lingering touches, his soft kisses, the way he constantly leaned in just to whisper in her ear, it felt like the most intimate date she had ever been on.

And the worst part?

She didn’t want it to end.

After dinner, Alejandro kept his promise. Ice cream. Just the two of them.

The little shop was quiet, the neon sign lighting over them as they leaned against his car, their cones in hand.

She was about to take a bite when Alejandro’s thumb brushed the corner of her lips.

“You had some right here,” he murmured, his touch lingering a second too long. He raised his thumb between his lips, licking the ice cream of his fingers.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she froze for a moment.

God, this didn’t feel fake at all.

Alejandro exhaled deeply, setting his ice cream down on the hood of his car. “y/n,” he started, his voice softer now, more serious.

She turned to look at him, heart pounding. “Yeah?”

He ran a hand over his hair, his eyes flickering between her lips and her eyes. “I need to tell you something.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly terrified of what he was about to say.

“I know I asked you to do this because of my parents,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I chose you for a reason.”

Her brows furrowed at his confession. “What do you mean?”

He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her cheek. “I could’ve asked anyone, preciosa. But I didn’t want anyone else. I wanted you.”

Her heart stopped for a second.

“Alejandro…” he started, but he interrupted her by tracing her jawline with his thumb, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

“I’ve liked you for a long time. I just…I didn’t know how to say it. And when I saw you tonight, when we were with my family… it didn’t feel fake. Not for a second.”

She forgot how to breathe at the intimacy of his voice.

And before she could process what was happening, Alejandro leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. It wasn’t forced. It was gentle, full of everything he hadn’t been able to say before.

And when he pulled away, he couldn’t help but grin.

“I want this to be real.”

She smiled softly, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. “Then let’s make it real.”

Alejandro beamed at her, capturing her lips again in a kiss that tasted like vanilla ice cream and something else; something sweeter.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[folkwhoreberry]

Heyyy! I hope ur feeling well, and that you have fun on ur holiday! If you write for women, I would really appreciate a Piper McLean x reader but if not, maybe a fluffy enemies to lovers Percy Jackson x reader?

Thin White Line

percy jackson x reader

or... the one where the eros children live up to their name

word count : 963

warning : mm none as far as I remember, english is not my first language!!

on the radio : don’t blame me by taylor swift

🔱🌊

valentine’s day at camp half-blood.

what a stupid idea.

and the worst thing?

everyone were paired with someone else randomly.

stupid eros kids.

so, here you were, with all the rest of the children at camp, sitting in the arena that’s currently being used as an assembly hall, wishing that the ground beneath you would swallow you.

because there is no way that percy, the arrogant, irritating, hero-like, bastard, poseidon’s son, somehow was paired up with you, his enemy, someone he’s despised from the beginning, just to keep chiron and mr. d happy?

you glanced at percy after your names were announced, who was already looking at you with a raised eyebrow, a smirk pulling at his lips. great. just great.

you both approached each other reluctantly, standing side by side as the rest of the names were read out. “guess we’re stuck together,” percy said, his tone light but his eyes challenging.

“looks like it,” you muttered, crossing your arms. the thought of spending the whole week with him, doing these ridiculous games, was enough to make you groan.

——————

the first game was a simple scavenger hunt, where each pair had to find various objects hidden around camp. you and percy had barely spoken since you were paired up, but the silence wasn’t exactly comfortable.

“I’ll take the woods, you check the cabins,” percy suggested, already turning to leave.

“wow, team spirit,” you shot back sarcastically.

he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “look, we both know we’re not thrilled about this, but we might as well try. unless you want to spend the whole week arguing.”

you gritted your teeth. “fine. let’s just get this over with.”

the scavenger hunt wasn’t as bad as you expected. you and percy split up the tasks and, surprisingly, worked pretty efficiently. when you met back up at the big house, he had a couple of objects tucked under his arm, and you had the rest in your hands. you didn’t acknowledge it, but it felt… easy, in a way. you weren’t used to things being easy with percy.

the rest of the week went on like that. each day brought a new game - three-legged races, obstacle courses, even a baking competition (which ended in a flour fight). and though you both started off awkwardly, with each passing day, it got a little better. the sarcastic comments didn’t sting as much. the silence between tasks wasn’t as heavy. you caught yourself laughing once when percy made a particularly bad joke, and you quickly tried to hide it, but you knew he’d noticed.

“was that a smile, y/n?” percy teased as you walked back to your cabin one evening after yet another camp game.

“it was a grimace,” you said, trying to keep your voice flat, but there was no real bite to your words.

he grinned. “right. of course.”

you couldn’t deny it anymore - spending time with percy wasn’t the worst thing in the world. in fact, the more time you spent with him, the more you realized that the things that used to irritate you about him weren’t as bad as you’d thought. sure, he was still a little too cocky for your liking, but there was something else there, too. beneath the arrogance, percy was… kind. he was patient, even when you snapped at him, and he had this way of making you feel like you could do anything. you hated to admit it, but maybe you’d misjudged him.

by the last day of the week, the tension between you and percy had shifted into something else - something unspoken but definitely there. the final game was a camp-wide capture the flag, and you and percy were, once again, on the same team. this time, though, you didn’t mind it as much.

“you ready for this?” percy asked as you both crouched behind a tree, waiting for the right moment to make your move.

“as ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, glancing at him. his face was serious, focused, but there was a softness in his eyes when he looked at you.

“I’ve got your back,” he said quietly.

and you believed him.

the game was intense, but you and percy worked together like a well-oiled machine. it was almost funny, considering how much you used to argue. by the time the game ended, you were both breathless, laughing, and standing victorious with the flag in your hands.

“we did it,” percy said, grinning at you, and for once, you couldn’t help but smile back.

“yeah, we did.”

as the sun set over camp, you found yourselves walking by the lake, the air warm and quiet. neither of you spoke for a while, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was… nice.

“this week wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” percy said after a long pause, his voice soft.

“yeah, same,” you admitted, kicking a rock by your feet.

he glanced at you, his expression serious but gentle. “you know, I always thought you hated me.”

“I thought you hated me too,” you replied, meeting his gaze.

“maybe we were both wrong,” he said, a small smile playing at his lips.

you felt your heart skip a beat, and for the first time, you realized just how close you were standing to him. you didn’t hate him. not even a little bit.

“yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “maybe.”

and in that moment, with the setting sun casting a golden glow over the lake, you knew that the line between love and hate was thinner than you’d ever imagined. because as percy leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, you realized that somewhere along the way, you’d fallen for him.

and, honestly, you didn’t mind one bit.

————————————————————————————

a/n : sorry for not writing for piper ml:((, on the other hand you’ve been blessed with one hell of a hamilton reference !!

[rylem33]

Reprogrammed

Izzy barely glanced up from her phone as Daniel kept messing with that stupid app.

“Still on that thing?” she muttered.

Daniel grinned, eyes flicking over the options. “Why not? It’s not real, but damn, it’s got everything in here.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, no shit.”

He hummed, scrolling. “Confidence boost… hypersexuality… full-body transformation. Oh, now this is interesting.”

Izzy rolled her eyes. “What, turning yourself into a werewolf or something?”

Daniel chuckled. “Nah, looks like I could make myself taller, buffer, or…” He paused dramatically. “…a pretty girl.”

Izzy snorted. “Please. You wouldn’t last a day.”

He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “You think I’d be cute? Maybe, like… a hot blonde? Long legs, big…”

She tossed a pillow at him. “Stop.”

Daniel laughed, dodging it. “What? You wouldn’t want a sexy girlfriend?”

Izzy groaned. “You’re so annoying.”

Daniel grinned. “Fine, fine. Let’s see… seduction boost, increased confidence, and, oh…..”

Then Daniel let out a sharp gasp.

“Ugh. Shit,” he groaned.

Izzy frowned, sitting up. “Danny?”

He lurched to his feet, gripping his stomach like he was about to be sick. 

“I…uh. I’ll be right back,” he choked out, bolting toward the bathroom.

The door slammed shut behind him.

Izzy blinked. “Danny?“

Silence.

Minutes passed.

A knot formed in her stomach. “You okay in there?”

Still nothing.

Her pulse quickened. She stood up, walking toward the door. “Daniel?”

No response.

She pushed the door open. The bathroom was empty.

“What the fuck?“

A soft click echoed from behind her.

Izzy spun around.

And froze.

Lounging in the chair across the room, was her.

A woman. A gorgeous, impossibly stunning woman.

Long, silken hair spilled over bare shoulders. Sculpted legs draped lazily over the armrest. A skin-tight, barely-there black outfit clung to every curve.

And the eyes.

Dark. Smug.

Izzy’s stomach dropped. “Danny?“

The woman smirked, biting her lip in a slow, teasing motion.

“Mmm,” she sighed, stretching like a cat. “Not Danny.“

Izzy took a step back. “No. No way. This must be some kind of …“

The woman giggled.

“Oh, babe,” she purred. “Does it look like I’m joking?“

Izzy’s throat went dry. She couldn’t stop staring.

Danielle noticed.

“You like what you see, don’t you?” Danielle trailed a finger down her collarbone, watching Izzy’s reaction with amusement.

Izzy’s hands curled into fists. “This isn’t real. I’m dreaming.“

Danielle just smirked, shifting in her seat, rolling her hips slightly as she uncrossed her legs.

“Feels pretty real to me.”

Izzy swallowed hard. “We…we need to change you back.“

“Back?” Danielle tilted her head, resting her chin in her palm. “Why would I want that?”

Danielle stood, heels clicking against the hardwood, closing the space between them.

Izzy tensed. “Danny…“

“Danielle,” she corrected smoothly.

Danielle reached out, tracing her wrist lightly. “Come on, baby.“

Her other hand slipped beneath Izzy’s hoodie, fingers teasing against the fabric. “You don’t really want to fix this, do you?“

Izzy flinched at the warmth of her touch. “We…“

Danielle grinned.

She leaned in, pressing the faintest kiss against Izzy’s jaw.

“Say my name, baby.”

Izzy’s breathed. “Danielle…“

The second it left her lips, Danielle shivered, her smirk deepening, dark eyes flashing with satisfaction.

“Mmm,” she purred. “That sounded so good coming from you.”

Her body pressed into Izzy’s, warm and soft. Her fingers ghosted over Izzy’s waist, teasing, dragging down so slowly before slipping under the hem of her hoodie.

Izzy sucked in a sharp breath.

“See?” Danielle murmured, lips hovering just over hers. “You feel that, don’t you? That little thrill?”

She trailed a single nail up Izzy’s side, making her tremble.

“That little ache?”

Izzy’s lips parted, her chest heaving. She needs to stop. I should stop this.

Danielle’s mouth brushed against her … light, teasing.

Another kiss. Barely there.

Then another.

Lower.

Lingering.

Izzy’s hands twitched at her sides.

Then Danielle moved in.

Hard.

Needy.

Danielle didn’t tease this time. She took, capturing Izzy’s lips in a deep, hungry kiss, her hands sliding up, fingers threading into Izzy’s hair, pulling her closer. Their bodies pressed together, heat surging between them, Danielle’s nails digging into Izzy’s waist as she claimed her.

Izzy gasped into it, her head spinning, her body betraying her as her hands grabbed at Danielle’s hips, pulling her in instead of pushing her away.

Danielle moaned against her lips, kissing her deeper, tongue flicking out, demanding, possessive.

Izzy felt herself melting.

She was losing.

Danielle pressed harder, lips moving faster, her hands roaming, pulling Izzy under, drowning her in sensation.

And then…

Izzy ripped herself away, gasping, her chest heaving.

Her lips burned, tingling from the sheer force of it.

Danielle barely stumbled, her smirk dangerous.

“That’s my girl,” she whispered, voice thick with satisfaction.

Izzy clenched her fists, fighting the need still clawing at her skin.

God, she wanted.

But this wasn’t right.

“Danny…” She gritted her teeth. “Danielle, we need to fix this.”

Danielle’s tongue flicked out, running over her own lips, eyes hungry.

“Fix?” she echoed.

Then she grinned.

“Oh, baby…” she purred.

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

Danielle picked up the phone and smiled.

Izzy’s pulse spiked.

She wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but the smug look on Danielle’s face set off every instinct to run.

Danielle paused, locking eyes with her, dragging the moment out, letting the tension build.

Then she pressed the button.

Nothing.

Izzy flinched, bracing for—something—but… there was nothing.

She blinked. Her heart pounded, fingers curling into fists. “What did you do?“

Danielle smirked. Tilted her head. “Wait for it, baby.“

Izzy opened her mouth to snap back…

Then her stomach lurched.

“Oh—“

A pulse of heat exploded inside her, deep, rolling outward in thick, liquid waves. It surged through her veins, wrapping around her spine, clawing up into her skull. Her vision swam, her breath caught, her legs trembled.

“Oh fuck.”

Her fingers twitched uncontrollably. Her skin prickled. Her whole body felt like it was too small … or maybe too much.

“What,” Izzy gasped, clutching at her stomach, but the words dissolved as the sensation took over.

It wasn’t pain.

Not really.

It was something else.

Something she should hate.

But then why did it feel so good?

A strange calm spread through her, like slipping into warm water. Soothing. Familiar. Right.

Her body felt lighter. Her muscles loosened, tension melting away.

Her thoughts were sharper. Clearer. Stronger.

The hesitation she’d always carried was gone.

Why?

Why had she ever hesitated?

She was better than that.

Stronger.

More… dominant.

Izzy inhaled sharply, her breath steadying, her body relaxing.

Her eyes flicked to Danielle.

And something clicked into place.

A new thought. A new truth.

Mine.

Danielle wasn’t just standing there.

She was waiting.

Waiting for her.

Waiting to be claimed.

Izzy licked her lips, and a slow, satisfied smirk curled at the edges.

Yes.

This was right.

Heat flared beneath her skin again, but this time, it wasn’t overwhelming.

It was power.

Her spine straightened, shoulders rolling back as her body shifted, refining itself into something stronger, sharper, irresistible.

Her hoodie and leggings melted away, replaced by silk. The fabric draped over her in a way that commanded attention.

She breathed in, running her nails along her collarbone, feeling the electricity humming beneath her skin.

She knew who she was now.

Who she was meant to be.

She locked eyes with Danielle.

Danielle shivered. “Oh. Oh, fuck.“

Izzy’s smirk deepened.

She took a single, commanding step forward and watched as Danielle instinctively stepped back.

Izzy caught her wrist before she could move any further.

“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” she murmured, voice dripping with amusement.

Danielle gasped softly, lips parting, pupils blown wide.

Izzy grinned.

She owned this moment.

She owned her.

“You’re mine now.“

[rickydoodahgrimez]

𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 || rick grimes x gn!reader

Rick Grimes never felt like he deserved you.

The thought had lingered in his mind more than he cared to admit, especially in moments like this—moments when the weight of the world, of everything he’d lost and fought for, pressed heavy against him.

Out on the run with Daryl, the two of them had split off to cover more ground, the quiet of the woods giving way to the occasional snap of a twig or distant rustle of leaves.

Rick’s eyes scanned every corner, his hand instinctively resting on the grip of his revolver, even as his mind wandered. 

They then found an abandoned shop, which was where Rick saw it.

Technically, Daryl found it first but Daryl had no one in mind to give it to, so it was Rick’s.

The necklace half—buried beneath a pile of discarded clothes and old, forgotten trinkets, but it was delicate either way.

It was simple, but beautiful—a fine silver chain with a small, circular pendant. The metal had dulled with time, but it still caught the light, like something that had once been loved.

He picked it up carefully, his fingers brushing over the tarnished surface.

It wasn’t much, but in the middle of this wasteland, in a world where everything had turned to dust, it felt like a fleeting reminder of something real, something lost—something hopeful.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

He slipped the necklace into his pocket, his thoughts on you, as always. 

“Wha’ ya’ think?” Daryl asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked over at Rick.

Rick didn’t answer right away, his thoughts already on you. He knew you didn’t care about things like this—jewellery, material possessions—but there was something about this necklace, about the way it seemed to symbolize everything he wanted to give you but never could.

It felt like a piece of something pure, something left untouched in this ruined world.

“I’ll take it.” Rick finally muttered, slipping the necklace into his pocket, already thinking about what he would do when he got back.

When Rick returned to the prison, the familiar sounds of the survivors and the steady rhythm of life in the new world greeted him, but it didn’t feel as comforting as it once did.

There was still that void, that space he couldn’t fill no matter how much he tried.

As evening set in and the others scattered to prepare for the night, Rick found you sitting near the fence, your back to the rising sun, your silhouette framed in the orange glow. 

You looked like you belonged there, like you had somehow found peace in the chaos of the world—and Rick couldn’t help but wonder how, when everything he touched seemed to slip away.

You turned your head, your lips curving into a small, warm smile. “How’d the run go?”

Rick hesitated, glancing down at his pocket as if it could give him the strength he needed. Then, without saying a word, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out the necklace, the chain gently swaying in the air.

“I found this,” Rick said, his voice rougher than usual, like the weight of everything he had to say was too much. “I thought. . . maybe you’d like it.”

You blinked, the surprise crossing your face before a small, knowing smile spread across your lips. “It’s beautiful.” You said, your fingers brushing over the delicate pendant as if testing its weight, its history.

Rick’s heart ached, that familiar sense of unworthiness twisting deep inside him. He wasn’t the kind of man who deserved someone like you—he had never been that man.

He’d been a sheriff, a father, a protector, but what did he have to offer? 

His hands were stained with blood, his mind haunted by the things he’d done, and in this broken world, he was still fighting every day just to survive.

You. You deserved better.

But he couldn’t help it. He wanted to give it to you. Even if he didn’t deserve you, he still wanted to be the one who tried.

His hand lingered near yours for a moment before he finally let go, feeling the weight of stress finally leaving him. It wasn’t just the necklace.

It was everything he wanted for so long—the love, the guilt, the ache of wanting to be better. To be someone you could count on.

“It’s not much,” He muttered, his voice barely a whisper. “But I wanted you to have it. You deserve. . . everything.”

You smile warmly, looking up at him, the necklace dangling between your fingers. “You got anymore for me?”

Rick chuckled, his blue eyes admiring your angelic features before he slowly shook his head. “I'll get more for you, sweetheart, I promise.”

And he watched as you fondle over the necklace, your eyes filled with light in this dark world. Rick wanted you to smile like that.

So, he promised himself that he would bring you back something every time he went on runs, just to see you gleam at him like that.

And unknown to you, the ring box burning a hole in his back pocket would do exactly that.

just two more posts until the valentines special is over guysss <33

[deathofacupid]

★ — OUCH, SHOULD'VE LISTENED! ﾉ part one, chapter one. ⟢ an itasfushi x reader .ᐟ ⟢ click here for the album (look both ways!) overview .ᐟ

the tokyo air hung thick and heavy, a humid blanket woven with the tantalizing aromas of sizzling takoyaki and sweet taiyaki. the scents, like invisible hands, tugged at their senses as they drifted through the crowd, past towering malls and hushed cinemas.

nobara was cackling, triggered by some dry comment megumi had aimed squarely at yuji.

yuji, bless his oblivious heart, was utterly lost. his brow furrowed into a deep 'v'. "guys," he whined, the sound akin to a deflating balloon animal, "c’mon!"

megumi, a master of deadpan, simply shrugged, a barely perceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth betraying his amusement.

yuji huffed, the pink of his hair seeming to vibrate with his indignation, but quickly abandoned his pout. they passed a colossal, garishly lit billboard advertising—

"—human earthworm five!" he shrieked, the volume making several nearby pedestrians jump and shoot him bewildered glances. yuji stopped dead, his eyes widening to the size of saucers.

nobara rolled her eyes so dramatically they nearly got stuck. "ugh." she was going for a full 360-degree rotation, but her eyeballs were clearly protesting.

"no! not 'ugh'!" yuji’s head whipped back and forth, his fervor so intense you’d think he was defending the honor of his entire family. “i didn’t even know it was out!”

megumi sighed, the sound of a man resigned to his fate. he knew he was going to get dragged into this.

"can we please go?" yuji begged, his hands clasped together in supplication.

"no." nobara’s response was swift. it was the kind that could cut glass, or at least butter.

yuji sucked his teeth, a sound like air hissing from a punctured tire. "fine. i’ll go by myself, then!"

megumi’s expression remained unchanged, his face a study in stoic exasperation. “you can’t. gojo said we were supposed to stay together.”

right, yuji remembered. the whole point of this excursion was patrolling the city. which they were! sort of. it was just… well, there was nothing to patrol. it was mind-numbingly, soul-crushingly boring. they were keeping an eye out, of course, but multitasking with the intensity of olympic athletes.

megumi rolled his eyes. again. "fine," he muttered, the word squeezed out through gritted teeth. it was purely because he was tired of yuji’s whining. purely that. nothing else. absolutely nothing.

yuji’s face underwent a rapid transformation, his pout vanishing so quickly it was a miracle they didn’t all get whiplash. "see! even megumi said yes! he never says yes!"

"hey, that’s not true. i said yes to that street ramen place. and then i said yes to buying you water after you threw up because of it."

"you only said yes to the ramen place because you knew it was bad!" yuji retorted, jabbing a finger in megumi’s direction.

"no, i said yes because you wouldn’t stop nagging me. nobara said yes because she knew it was bad. i warned you, remember?"

"but—"

"i’ll redact my agreement," megumi warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"okay. you said yes. you always say yes," yuji blurted, frantically backpedaling.

nobara clicked her tongue, "still a no."

"but we’ve been to every dumb clothing place for you!" yuji protested, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"hmm. you’re right." nobara pretended to consider this. "…no."

"you haven’t even given it a chance!" yuji’s face crumpled in a dramatic frown.

"i did. i went to see the first and second one with you, remember?"

"no, you went to the first one, and left at the start credits. and you only went to the second one because of the cashier, the one you thought was cute."

"oh. right. still, no."

"it’s a cinematic masterpiece! it’s real, and raw. you wouldn’t understand that because your taste involves stupid chick-flicks."

"take that back!" nobara threatens, her voice rising in indignation. "you love them!"

"no, i don’t!" yuji vehemently denied. "megumi does!" he then darted ahead of them, walking backwards, ready to shoot down any and all further insults about his favorite work of art.

megumi opened his mouth, not just to disagree, but also to warn yuji to be careful—

thud! the sound was accompanied by a yelp, though not from yuji.

megumi dragged a hand down his face, a gesture of pure, unadulterated weariness, while nobara erupted in a peal of laughter so loud it startled a flock of pigeons. yuji, in his backward ambling, had tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and sent an unsuspecting passerby sprawling.

"oh, my god!" yuji babbled, his face flushing crimson. "i’m so sorry! i wasn’t looking where i was going!" he scrambled to help the person up, his eyes wide with concern. yuji looked up to meet their gaze.

they rubbed their head, wincing slightly. "no, it’s fi—"

"y/n?" yuji breathed, his mouth suddenly drier than the sahara desert. holy crap. every alarm in his body was blaring, and his jaw hung slack, his previous indignation forgotten.

"oh, my god, yuji!" you greet, previous look of pain abandoned. "it's been so long, this is crazy."

nobara looks at megumi, expecting to share a glance with him. but, no, he's focused on, well, you. she inspects him, how his lips are parted, the way he lets his hair shield him.

nobara raises an eyebrow. she files this information away for later teasing.

yuji remembers you so well. you'd been his high school crush. well, crush was an understatement. more, like, first love. seeing you again? here in the flesh? it's like all those feelings come rushing back, and suddenly, he's not seventeen, but fourteen again.

he was experiencing a full-blown flashback to awkward adolescence, complete with the phantom scent of axe body spray and the burning desire to own a skateboard.

"yeah," he stammers, heartbeat quick. "yeah, it is, isn't it? wow, um, you look good. i mean, great. like, a decent amount. not that i'm saying you're, like, mid or anything. just that, um, you look... good."

you chuckle, mildly off-put. "thanks, yuji. you look good, too." there's a lilt in your voice, not quite teasing, but almost. yuji was suddenly hyper-aware of his sweaty palms.

"sorry. for knocking you over, i mean," he repeats, incredibly embarrassed about that. whenever he though about you, which was time to time, and the possibility of seeing you again... this isn't exactly how he expected it to play out. maybe with doves.

definitely doves. and maybe a gentle breeze rustling through his perfectly coiffed hair. instead, he’d face-planted you on the sidewalk.

"it's alright. i should've been watching where i was going," you say, waving his concern off.

yuji shakes his head, "no, no, i shouldn't have been walking backwards."

"but—" nobara clears her throat, saving them all from a never-ending cycle of apologies.

"oh, right," yuji chuckles, sheepish. "um, this is nobara. and that's megumi." gesturing to you, "this is y/n. we used to go to high school together."

nobara nods in understanding, "so, were you guys, like...?" that question grabs megumi's attention.

"no!" both yuji and you blurt at the same time. you laugh, nervous. "no, we were just friends. well, before you totally disappeared."

you frown, "a 'bye' would've been nice, by the way."

"...oops. sorry. everything happened so fast. my grandfather died—"

"oh, did he? i'm sorry." concern is written on your face, and yuji feels nice to know you still care. he was starting to think maybe the dove scenario wasn’t entirely off the table.

"no, it's okay. but, yeah, i go to jujutsu tech now."

"yeah, that's all they told us. isn't that the super, like, religious one?" yuji didn't really strike you as the type. but people change, you guess.

"uh, something like that. sure," yuji says, rubbing the back of his neck.

you nod, understanding. "right. yeah, okay." you open your mouth, maybe to add more, but your phone starts going off. "whoops, i've gotta get going. me and my friends are meeting at the movies," you smile, starting to wave bye.

"oh," he says, unsurprisingly disappointed. the dove scenario was definitely off the table now. maybe a pigeon. a slightly mangy pigeon. "what movie are you seeing?"

"pfft," you giggle, "only, like the best movie ever." as you jog off, you call out, "human earthworm five!"

oh, god, he fully remembers why he fell in love with you. it wasn't just the doves. it was the shared love of cinematic masterpieces about giant, possibly sentient, earthworms. it was destiny. or maybe just a really weird coincidence. either way, yuji was smitten.

and megumi? megumi who stood behind them, arms crossed, staring at you guys like you'd just killed his beloved dog of ten years?

a whole other story.

who's listening? — @lovedbykattt, @ohmygeto, @arrozyfrijoles23, @ruershrimo, @idontwannarevealwhoiam @angelthefantastic .ᐟ

all writing(s) belongs to deathofacupid. do not steal, plagiarize, repost, or feed my work(s) into ai. interactions, besides spam likes/likes are appreciated. series status — ONGOING .ᐟ

[cerealmonster15]

The Trials and Tribulations of Azul Ashengrotto [Azul/Riddle]

Summary: Azul's got a thing for Riddle, but he's having a hard time expressing himself.

[Ao3 Link] [See Ao3 for more tags + notes]

[edit: book 6 spoiler warning!!!]

“If you’re going to insist on being my lab partner,” Jamil grumbled as he lightly bumped his elbow into Azul’s side, “Then at the very least, could you pay attention to our assignment?”

Azul jolted in surprise, scrambling to pick up the nearest vial of liquid and held it up to eye-level in order to look busy. “I-I’m as focused as ever, I’ll have you know! I would never let down my favorite lab partner, after all.”

“Ugh,” Jamil rolled his eyes. “And yet, you can’t seem to keep your eyes off Riddle instead of our cauldron. Again, might I add.” He reached over to pluck the vial out of Azul’s hand and promptly replaced it with the proper ingredient required for the next step. “I don’t see why you can’t simply pair up with him instead when we have these joint lessons. Save us all some trouble.”

“Now, what kind of friend would I be if I just abandoned you and our little routine like that?” Azul smirked. “I wouldn’t dream of it, so don’t you worry.”

“I don’t remember signing up for your friendship,” Jamil huffed, “but if you’re going to subject me to it either way, then the least you can do is give me some transparency.”

“Says the one who is probably the most secretive out of everyone in our entire grade,” Azul retorted. “But, I suppose if there were someone I had to choose to confide in, you would be my best choice of confidant, wouldn’t you? It’s not like I’m dying to open up to either of the twins about more… Sensitive matters.” He scrunched his nose up, be it from the sheer thought of speaking vulnerably to Jade and Floyd, or from the fumes emitted from the vial he’d finally unscrewed. “And I can’t even BEGIN to imagine going to Idia to try and talk about relationships with other, real-world humans.”

Jamil picked up the long wooden spoon and began stirring the contents of their potion as Azul poured in the next ingredient. “I know you love hearing the sound of your own voice, but please get to the point before the end of class.”

“Are you saying you don’t enjoy our leisurely chats on the walk back to the dorm mirrors together?” Azul placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. “Why, Jamil, you wound me.”

“For the love of - fine, forget I asked.” Jamil shuffled to the other side of the cauldron, away from Azul. “I get the picture pretty clear just from that pitiful look you always have on your face, anyway.”

“P-Pitiful?!” Azul sputtered, following Jamil’s retreat along the side of the cauldron. “I’ll have you know that I am locked in a battle of wits with Riddle Rosehearts, and while partnering up with him for a lab exercise may give me insight as to how he approaches his assignments, doing well in conjunction with him will NOT give me an advantage if we share the same final score!”

“So, you refuse to pair up with your crush because you want to get a better grade than him?”

“Erm…” Azul looked as though he was considering lying, but one stern glance from Jamil had him folding in an instant. “...Perhaps. Yes.”

“You’re utterly hopeless, Azul.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

“I’d tell you to be yourself,” Jamil continued, a small smirk appearing on his lips, “but you actually want a chance at him liking you back, don’t you? Perhaps we’d better think of a different approach for you to follow.”

Azul sighed. “Really, I don’t know what I expected.”

Jamil snickered and picked up the ladle as Azul held out the vial for him to spoon their finished potion into. “Maybe if you tried talking to him without all your mind games, you’d have better luck.”

“Please, Jamil, asking an NRC student to hold a conversation without at least three layers of mind games is like asking a man not to breathe.”

Jamil’s only response was another, aggravated eye-roll. “Whatever. Not my problem if you insist on creating obstacles for yourself.”

Azul decided he did not need anymore of Jamil’s sass, and would be perfectly fine with figuring things out BY HIMSELF! …Not that it would stop him from continuing his lamenting and complaining to Jamil in the future, of course. 

–

The S.T.Y.X. trek was a long and arduous one, and though they’d already had their fair share of bickering spats, Azul and Riddle were ultimately glad to have each other by their side as they descended the tower. For all their faults, they kept up with each other well on the battlefield.

Riddle proved time and time again to Azul that he was an endless supply of surprises that Azul wouldn’t have even dreamed up to begin with. It was truly infuriating at times, but there was something about that specific flavor of brazen absurdity that Riddle brought to the table that Azul couldn’t help but find absolutely and utterly fascinating. 

And now, here they were, side-by-side, misunderstandings mostly cleared away, venturing forth and sharing their life’s aspirations together.

“So, an interest in law, you said?” 

Riddle glanced at Azul as he walked beside him, and nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

“I must say, even though you haven’t been to law school, I’d imagine you could give any lawyer a run for their money, given just 20 minutes and a law book.”

“Please, Azul. I would never cut corners like that,” Riddle huffed. “If I were to go against a lawyer in court, I would need to go through the proper schooling and certification process, first.”

“…That’s… Not what I meant,” Azul sighed and shook his head. “You managed to memorize all 810 laws of your dorm and never forget a single one, from what I’ve heard. Did you not?”

“That’s hardly anything beyond the bare minimum. As the housewarden of Heartslabyul, it is expected that I would know every rule in order to keep my dormmates in line!”

“This is exactly what I mean!” Azul exclaimed. “You’d have no trouble at all studying meticulous laws and the fine print of any contract. I’d say you’d be right at home in a courthouse. My stepfather is a lawyer too, you know. Perhaps I could help you gain some early contacts in the field and introduce you two, sometime.”

Riddle narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the smile Azul offered him. “I find it hard to believe that you would make an offer without intending to hold it over my head for something in return.”

“Please, Riddle, you wound me,” Azul sighed yet again. “But it’s as I said before: Having a friend like you with many skills and who is well-versed in the law would be ever so reassuring as we go through life together, no?”

Azul thought again of his stepfather, who was the one who taught Azul much of what he knew about reading and understanding the ins and outs of contracts. It really was fortunate that his mother managed to meet him during the divorce process to Azul’s birth father, as he was a positive addition to both Azul’s life, and his mother’s. 

To think that his mother would find love and happiness from her own divorce lawyer, during such a turbulent and uncertain time in one’s life. 

Azul looked over at Riddle, who looked back at him with that same, scrutinizing expression he wore for the past several minutes. 

“…I wouldn’t mind having you as my divorce lawyer, one day.”

There was a beat of silence, and Riddle’s face contorted into what could only be described as a blend of emotion from someone who felt like they should be offended, but was too confused by the statement to even understand how to process it. 

“Your what? Divorce lawy- Are you planning on getting divorced, Azul?!”

Azul froze, realizing not only that he’d spoken his thoughts aloud, but just how absurd those words sounded out of context. But, there was no way Azul was going to elaborate on the truth, so instead, he nodded. 

“Y… Yes. In my research of business people on land, I’ve learned that quite a few of the ones that have really made a name for themselves have also gone through several divorces. It doesn’t hurt to be… Prepared.”

“…Unbelievable,” Riddle scoffed, and marched ahead once more. “What’s even the point of getting married if you don’t foresee it working out? You’ll just be wasting everyone’s time.”

Azul couldn’t help but notice just how personally offended Riddle sounded… Well, to be fair, he kind of ALWAYS sounded personally offended. But there was something about the particular tone of his voice and way he stormed off just now…

“Riddle, please stop running ahead!”

The rest of their conversation was just going to have to wait. They had a universe to save, after all. 

–

Riddle’s cheeks flushed red. A different shade of red than his usual, about-to-cut-your-head-off shade of red. Sure, to the naked eye of an average observer, one may say there was no difference at all. Red was red, and Riddle was an angry boy. 

But, Azul Ashengrotto was not an average observer, and especially not when the object of observation was Riddle Rosehearts’ face. It was a rare sight to see Riddle laugh, let alone so hard that his cheeks flushed so vibrantly. Azul could not help but feel a smug sense of pride that he not only got to bear witness to such a special occurrence, but was also the one who got to make Riddle laugh. 

Their bond had seen rapid growth as of late - Stopping the total destruction and subsequent reset of a universe together tends to have that effect on people, after all - And Azul felt closer to Riddle than ever before. Perhaps now, in this relaxed and jovial moment shared between the two, was the time to finally make a move…

“Ah, um, Riddle…” Azul cleared his throat as his and Riddle’s snickering finally quieted down. “We’ve really been enjoying each other’s company quite a bit more these past few months, wouldn’t you say?”

“...W-well! We, um…” Riddle straightened his posture, but averted his gaze pointedly downward and off to the side. “I suppose I can’t exactly deny that statement.”

Azul’s heart hammered in his chest. It was now or never.

“What would you say to perhaps taking things a step further, then?” Azul asked, praying that he did not look nor sound as uncharacteristically nervous as he felt. “We could try dinner together? At the lounge?”

If Riddle with his flushed cheeks was cute before, he was downright adorable now. The red hue spread from his cheeks across his nose and filled up his entire face as his eyes went wide. “I- U-um! Well…”

Azul wanted so badly to reach out and pull Riddle into a tight embrace, but he remained steadfast in his willpower. He absolutely could NOT afford to jump the gun when they were taking such a crucial and sensitive transitional step in their relationship.

“I think,” Riddle continued, setting Azul’s heart aflutter, “that sounds…”

The suspense was killing him, and was only prolonged as two long shadows suddenly cast their way over both Azul and Riddle.

“Heeeey, it’s lil Goldfishie!” Floyd stepped to Azul’s left as he emerged from behind, grinning down at Riddle with a mischievous stare.

“My, I do hope we aren’t interrupting anything,” Jade said, taking his place to Azul’s right. Despite his words, he did not look concerned in the slightest.

“Actually,”  Azul grumbled, “Riddle and I were in the middle of a rather important conversation.”

“By all means, continue,” Jade smiled, him and Floyd remaining firmly in place.

Riddle looked up at the twins, brows furrowed with irritation… Eyes widening in realization… A look of horror forming on his face…

Wherever Azul went, those twins were always nearby.

Always.

“Sooo, what’cha talkin’ ‘bout?” Floyd took a step closer towards Riddle. “C’mon, fill us in!”

“I…” Riddle looked at Azul, who stared back at him with silent desperation. “...I’ve got to go. Right now. Goodbye!”

“Wait - Riddle!” Azul cried out, stepping forward.

But Riddle wasted no time scampering off and FAR away from the trio.

Azul put his head in his hands and let out a weary sigh. “...Boys,” he muttered. “Next time you hear me making a delicate maneuver with Riddle - and I KNOW you heard us talking - I need you both to stay far, far away. In fact, make use of those long legs of yours and take a run in the opposite direction, while you’re at it.”

The twins exchanged a look, and turned to flash matching grins at Azul. “No promises.”

-

The front doors to Heartslabyul swung open with such forceful intensity that every nearby student straightened their spine and stopped what they were doing. Tension filled the room as Riddle marched his way across the floor, raising one hand with his wand and instantly changing his outfit from the standard uniform and into his dorm uniform, as was expected. He moved, wordlessly, a stern scowl plastered across his face, and no one dared approach the housewarden when he was in such a bad mood.

“Hi, hi, Riddle!”

Well, almost no one.

Riddle halted in his tracks, a startled look replacing the scowl on his face as Cater skipped over and stopped directly in front of him. “Oh, Cater. I almost didn’t see you there.”

“No kidding!” Cater slid over to Riddle’s side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading him out of the room and away from the prying eyes of lingering students. “I could see that scowl a mile away! Why don’t we come into the kitchen and get you some tea and a snack so you can relax and tell Cay-Cay what happened? Frowning like that for too long will ruin your cute face, y’know.”

Riddle relented, allowing Cater to forward, towards the safe haven of leftover sweets that Trey had baked the night before. Thankfully, there just so happened to be a leftover strawberry tart in the fridge, waiting for Riddle’s stomach. Somehow, Trey always ended up making just enough to serve a full party and still have a few leftovers stored away for the next day or so.

A slice of tart cut, two cups of tea poured, Riddle relaxed, Cater took a seat across from his friend and offered him a warm, inviting smile. 

“So, you said that the boys in Octavinelle are giving you trouble again, huh?” He asked, picking up his tea cup and taking a sip. “What did they do this time?”

“It was mostly those twins,” Riddle sighed. “You know how they are. They hardly have to say a word, and yet they somehow know the most efficient way to drive me nuts in under 30 seconds! Azul and I have finally been getting along these days, and those two just have to come in and spoil everything!”

Cater picked up the teapot and filled Riddle’s cup as he ranted and raved about the fish boys. “Aw, c’mon, you can’t let those goofs throw you off your game! You really like Azul, don’t you?”

“I…!” Riddle froze, teacup mid lift. “I… Yes,” he sighed. There was no hiding it from Cater at this point. He’d already known for a while, by the look on his face. “I rather think that I do, but I simply cannot subject myself to a lifetime of hanging around those two just because they come alongside Azul as some sort of package!”

“Okay, sure, you probs will have to see those two more than you wanna if you get with Azul,” Cater said, offering Riddle a sympathetic smile. “But you’re not gonna let that stop you, right? I mean, the Riddle I know wouldn’t hold back just because some boys were being silly! Floyd Leech doesn’t dictate your life, does he?”

“A-Absolutely not!” Riddle huffed, standing from his chair. “Neither Floyd nor Jade get to have a say in how I do ANYTHING.”

Cater smiled. “Yeah? That’s great! So why don’t you call Azul and tell him that?”

“Yes… You’re absolutely right, Cater. I think I’ll do just that!”

Quietly watched as Riddle pulled out his phone and wasted no time doing just that. There would be no room left for hesitation, as Azul picked up within the first ring.

“Riddle?” 

“Azul!” Riddle shouted into the receiver. “I’m going to go on a date with you!”

“WH-” 

Cater could hear Azul’s sputtering and coughing even from where he remained seated at the table. “Riddle, hon, be gentle with him!” 

“Ah, r-right.” Riddle took a deep breath, and then spoke more gently into the phone. “...I want to go out with you. I don’t want to let… Anyone… Hold me back from how I choose to live my life. And I’m choosing you! …If your offer still stands.” 

“It does!” Azul answered all too quickly. “I-I mean, um… Yes. That is a reasonable decision, on your part, I'd say. We could, uh, work out the details tomorrow in the cafeteria?”

“Yes…” Riddle let out of a sigh of relief, making eye contact with Cater, who smiled and flashed him a thumbs up. “I’d like that very much.”

[squidthoughts]

collected thoughts on the creloise matter (Big And Detailed Spoilers Ahead):

if it’s dual character assassination, it’s dual character assassination and irredeemable and frankly uninteresting and unfortunately the show becomes unwatchable for me personally. if it’s purposeful setup? it’s bloody brilliant. i mean it could actually be bloody brilliant. there are a few lines that feel very purposeful: pen’s “did you ever truly like her?” and the moment with cress and her mother when cress protests being cruel to the btons. both of which come after the creloise breakup and, you know, the uhhhh cessation of scenes together. creloise was dead. there was no reason to continue to examine the corpse. unless it wasn’t truly dead. ok, so there is now incredible potential in the CreloiseSituation(tm).

they hate each other. perfect! cressida was suffering all season and eloise was a truly terrible friend - i mean, comically selfish and villainous - that is to say, cressida’s actions (antagonistic as they were) were explained and justified within the narrative and eloise’s were not. ok! that’s fine. in the past, cress has been the unjustifiably cruel one. if anything, they are now on equal footing in terms of illogically hurting each other. so, they hate each other. which just means their growing back together could be that much more satisfying.

eloise’s choices didn’t make sense. they just…don’t. if her arc this season was to show her growth separate from pen, and it ends with nothing mattering to her but pen, it’s just nonsensical. (dont get me wrong- i’m glad they made up! their friendship is a core pillar of the show! but taking a season of development apart and introducing new dynamics into eloise’s life only to end her precisely where she was in season ONE is just…huh??) that is, unless elosie’s decisions don’t make sense YET. unless the point of her abandonment of a friend IS the abandonment. unless this is precisely the base a following season would need to portray el from a starting position of moral inferiority- a facet of her character not yet explored.

creloise both out of mayfair now. coincidence? well…maybe! i guess! but also, outside the set and setting of society. idk, that just screams landscape of possibility to me.

they’re both on the cusp of substantial development! cressida at rrrrock bottom and eloise striving to find experience and purpose. we’ve never seen cress this low and tortured or el this alone and unsure. idk. parallels.

nothing that made us love them so much in the first place has changed. they’re still mirrors. they’re still unflinchingly honest with each other - often the only ones who are. they’re still (deliciously) (occasionally) mean. the foundations are still there. and tbh, if all of this was purposeful, there is SO much conflict and strife between them that i actually really love it. the angst! the tension! the possible banter! eloise abandoned cress at the worst possible time in her life and cress betrayed eloise (out of desperation but facts are facts) and neither of them got an explanation. and for a summer and a season they were very much alone together and enjoying each other and the betrayals sting because the friendship mattered in the first place. and that broken dynamic is just. so yummy. and the hate is there because the embarrassment is there and the embarrassment is there because….i liked you. and you burned me. and i cant believe i was stupid enough to like you. but i did like you, i did.

also, i’m sure the showrunners were understandably wary about how the audience would react to cressida this season. up until now, she’s been a glorified extra; the personality-less stereotype of the loveless, callous debutante bridgerton’s grand love stories exist to subvert. in s1 she was a joke (daphne and simon laughing about her scripted flirting) and in s2 she was the hopeless and petty mean girl. there was no reason for the audience to like her, because she was hardly a character and certainly not a person. i imagine suddenly linking her to everyone’s fan favorite eloise was seen as a huge risk— in case of a negative reaction, cress could hardly be established as a romantic prospect as well, possibly guaranteeing a large portion of screentime to someone the audiences don’t even like. creators obviously shouldn’t feel the urge to cater to an audience’s whims of how they think a story should go - this would be very bad!! - but i do think the extreme outpouring of appreciation for cress this season might enable the writers to utilize her more in the future. she’s a real character now with depth and her story has established loyalty in fans- narratively there is freedom there for some satisfying payoffs.

all this to say, this season reduced my expectations to not quite zero, but somewhere around one. the finale was crowded and unfocused and more than a few things just did not make sense and the queer rep felt very sudden and trite - for shock value, practically - and we were forced to watch creloise hacked to pieces….but, i maintain, if it was all purposeful….idk. i personally don’t think all hope is lost.

[screampied]

𝜗𝜚 BIG BOOOYS!

☆ sum. it's cuffin’ seasooon, and now you’ve got a reasooon to get…stuffed? toji, sukuna, choso, geto, nanami, gojo.

warnings. fem! reader, BIG BOYSSSS like the sza skit song, unprotected, manhandling, dad bods (toji / nanami), size kinks, tf! sukuna, boxer! geto, spīt, full nelson, mating press, dp (sukuna), overstim, dirty talk, praise, marathons, p spanks, hair pulling, breedīng, this got kinda … long LOL sry.

an. will t*mblr let me post thisss …. ¯\_(ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯

✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO.

“honey,” nanami warmly purrs, his body weight hovering right over yours. you’re met with the most softhearted eyes, watching cloudy puffy pants leave his mouth. you’d just rode nanami for countless hours nonstop, and with ruffled blond strands sticking to his face, he looked oh so feral for you. your eyes rover down toward his abdomen - so plump ‘n round, and you felt yourself throb the more you gawked at the vertical strip of his blond happy trail that ran down his chest. “hah- you want me to . . fold you like a chair? that sounds kind of painful, no?”

“ken, ‘s okay,” you reassure him, a hand sensually rubbing down his cushiony soft-padded abs. nanami was as soft as an oversized teddy bear, and he was always gentle with you during intimacy. you moan, feeling his split reddish tip gently smear a sloppy slope down your sopping entrance before he pauses to let you finish speaking. “y.. you can be a little rough. i can take it.”

nanami combs a hand through his hair before a coy simper tug at both corners of his thin pink lips. “okay, if that’s what my pretty wife wants- then. .” and you let off a jittery whimper once you feel his big hands start to gingerly shove both of your knees to your chest. his touch was forevermore tender, and nanami hoarsely groans as he watches your limbs gradually extend back. “i’ll . . stretch you,” he grumbles, a sandy brow of his furrowing once he starts to align his leaky cockhead once more. you’re throbbing, salivating from the mouth once the pointed crowns of your knees meet against your bare squishy breasts. leaning in, nanami’s just a few sultry centimeters apart before he sensually licks near your bottom lip. “hold onto me, sweetheart. ‘s gonna get a bit . . bumpy.”

once you’re laid flat on your back, nanami’s tubby tummy hovers over your entire frame. murky huffs of air shoot past his lips once he grabs ahold of your wobbly ankles. you’d already had your pretty laced panties shoved to the side, and oh how soaked you were. “naughty girl,” he huskily grunts, casually starting to rub his wedding ring against your folds. slow. . romantic strokes were all you felt. it lasts for a long few seconds, and he’s just smearing the frigid cold band of the ring around your bawling cunt before he finally gets to the real thing.

nanami grabs ahold of your legs—softly shoving them further into your chest. they meet against your bouncy tits and you moan, feeling the plump head of his cock greet your slobbering cunt with wet, slimy kisses of its own. the noises . . they were so damn loud, and you were already throbbing the more he teased you from just his full-sized tip alone. “ngh, ‘ken. don’t tease me. f.. fuck me,” you whine, another moan leaving from your parted lips the second he’s fully enclosed between your legs. you’re met with his rounded tummy that’s sooo perfect ‘n plump, and nanami’s just inches apart from the button of your nose. time stands still once he finishes aligning his thick cock, unhurriedly inserting himself inside.

oh fuck-

those same two words that ripped out of your whiny larynx repeated past your lips right as he started to ease his way inside. it didn’t take him long to quickly bottom out—and you were folded up like a chair. “s- sooo gorgeous for me,” he lowly groans, blond brows crimping together in needy want. your brief tightness that only lasts for a good three seconds makes nanami suck his teeth. so … damn … good, once he bottoms out all the way, you then hear the bubbly resounding ‘pop!’ that alerted you both that he was fit reaaaal nice ‘n snug. “god, the things you do to me, sweetheart.”

nanami tended to ramble mid-fuck, just spouting a bunch of nonsense against the shell of your ear. with barred, bare hands, he’s making sure your legs stay at the folded position you’re at. his cock’s just so fat though, and your eyes were almost cartoonish—widening like saucers at the precise moment he curves his way through that exact pathway of your cunt that makes you squeal. nanami’s sculptured hips drill into you ferociously, and his body that pounded on top of you after each impactful stroke was just so soft. you’d never get over it—he was like an actual plushie teddy bear.

sluggish arms of yours wrap around him, filling his entire ear canal with your continuous whimpers before he groans. “kento, fuuuckk- fuck!” you’d moan, feeling the bed frailly dip from both pounds of jerking weight.

pap after pap after pap, nanami’s stuffing you full with each mouth-watering inch, and your pussy constantly decided to torture you with its dramatic spasms and fluttering. filled to the very hilt, nanami’s making sure your insides got every single part of him.

he’s groaning, trying his hardest not to crush you with his weight. every few seconds, he’d cup your face with two sweaty palms before slowing down with a timid cunt-drunk grin. whispering out a shaky, “hah- you okay, sweetheart? ‘m not crushin’ my sweet girl, am i?” he’d lovingly caress a thumb across your face, acting as if he wasn’t currently fucking you stupid.

“ ‘m okay,” you’d breathlessly croon out in a sweet throaty tune, almost as if your sweet moans were high notes. nanami was hitting you deep, and with a sloppy pivot of his hips, the angle got even deeper. you’re filling up the four paper-thin walls of the bedroom with your trilling whines, purely engulfed by his loud manly musk. your cunt’s already starting to soak with dewy globs of your juices, even dribbling down your folds and oh it’s comin’ . .

“ken, kentoo—oooh!”

nanami felt his dick twitch inside of you at your dragged-out moan of his name.. but - it wasn’t just a moan—it was a pretty, elongated orgasm that caught you by surprise. his blushing tip was messily kissing your pulsating g-spot, circling all around it while casually feeding your grippy, wet walls. you clung onto him tight with your arms and also your insides. before you knew it though, your high was slowly but surely creepin’ up on you.

“i know- i knowww,” he murmured out of breath, and you could feel him starting to slow down. nanami’s rickety hips were passionate. they were steady, and as you were creaming down his weighty shaft, he planted a kiss on your temple. “thaaat’s it, let go. ‘m right here, kento’s here. i’ll clean you right up, sweetheart.”

his words warmed their way into the key of your heart . . slowly traveling between your legs also to make you throb. you’re whimpering the same repeated chant of his name as your arms were now wrapped around his sweat-glossed waist. nanami chuckles into your neck, and he can feel your arms pull his plump body closer. “mhmm, touch my body all you want, honey,” and you moan, feeling him release the grip on your numb legs. nanami brings his wedding ring toward your teary cunt after he pulled out, giving it one more loving rub. “ ‘m all yours,” he kisses near your lips. “always.”

✩ ˛˚ . SUKUNA RYOMEN.

“keh, you make me laugh, woman,” sukuna grouses, slouching back against his notorious throne as you straddle him. eager ‘n all, you try to align yourself and he grabs your hips firmly with a smug scoff. “you can barely handle one, what makes you think you can handle both of me, hm?”

“ ‘kuna, don’t tease me,” you huff, and he hums once he sees the frustration marinating across your face. cute, sukuna knew you didn’t like being teased but he still enjoyed getting underneath your skin. after all, you were his favorite, and maybe just for tonight . . he’d oblige with your carnal desire to get double stuffed. sukuna folds two of hefty arms behind his broad neck, his other arms occupied by gripping your waist. oh, he looked so priggish. a wolffish grin remains plastered on his lips as he watches you wrap a hand around one of his cocks. they were fuckin’ big, both stacked on top of each other and you moan. “stop lookin’ at me like that.”

sukuna snickers. “heh. my apologies, little one. i’ll look away while you struggle, i guess,” and a fang pops underneath his sinister curled lips once your wet entrances start to slowly kiss against his tips. you’re weeping wet, and you moan with your other arm abruptly tossing around his broad shoulders. you felt your heart’s irregular beats pick up whilst you’re perfectly aligned with both of his thick twinned cocks. with a squelching ‘pop!’ the first one starts to delve inside of your cunt, driving its way past the loose ring of your dripping entrance. “fuuuck, atta girl.” sukuna gravelly grunts, his smugness starting to falter just a bit. as he’s bottoming out, his grip on your hips tighten more. your warmth catches him by surprise—but once you’re taking in his second cock, he smacks together his lips in awe. pink slit brows of his form together into a vexed arch once he growls.

“ ‘s fuckin’ big,” you moan, slightly turning your head to stare at your grinding perked ass. as a few seconds pass, you’re starting to writhe your ass against his lap. successfully, both fat cocks were filled inside each of your gummy orifices. the concise feeling of tightness makes you mewl, feeling sukuna’s overgrown nails gently dig into the plush flesh of your ass cheek. “god, so full ‘kuna, fuuuuck,” you continue to babble, and you already could feel your fluttering tummy starting to giggle with hoards of impatient butterflies. you can’t help but part your lips into a cute ‘o’, nearly drooling once he spanks your ass — his way of encouraging you to ride him faster.

sukuna’s big, and it’s not even about both of his lengthy dicks anymore. he’s a demon, an unruly one that could probably crush you if he wanted. but no . . he had a soft spot for you, an even more softer spot for your sweet, weak pussy. as he sits back against the creaking throne, you gulp, taking in just how big he is compared to you. bloody, ruddy eyes bore back into you as he started to break a cold sweat. “hng, good,” he groans, and you watch as his head gradually starts to fall back.

oh- you’ve got him whipped. once you started up your rocky pace, it was game over.

each towering cock plummets into both of your holes filthy, and the repeated dampened sloshes of your cunt resounded through the walls of his echoey domain. over and over and over. your rhythm starts to get more and more hectic as you progress—and you’re whimpering, continuously feeling one of his swollen tip’s french kiss near your pretty puckering rim. the other one’s messily making out with your g-spot, rudely thrashing its way against that same pulsating target like it was a dart aiming straight for the bullseye. “o- ohhh, fuck. ‘kuna, ‘m not gonna last, ohmygodddd.”

you’re just so full…too full- and before you knew it, you could already feeling your legs preparing to violently snap.

mewling out a sweet, exaggerated ‘oh!’, you end up spraying out a pretty streaming geyser right between your legs. your glossed lips quiver as your awaited high finally comes, whining as you try to continue to swerve your weak hips in gradual arcs. it felt so so good, being plugged full with each of his girthy cocks. fuck, it felt too good that you could almost taste your sudden overwhelming releases on your tastebuds. “fuck, fuuuck,” you whine out in tiny puffs of air, glancing back through fuzzy peripherals to stare back at your ass. honed, sharp fingernails bury into the fat of your bouncy flesh and sukuna snarls at the tasteful friction. “ ‘s good, ‘kuna, ngh!”

“h- heh,” the curse jibes, but even he’s starting to slow down. as your rhythm starts to finally come to a slowing stop, you sheathe your head near his broad chest. sukuna holds you close, quietly snickering at the size difference. you—a mere human, straddling him. it was almost laughable. “you humans are so weak . . so fragile,” he huskily groans, leaning in to pierce his fangs into your neck softly. as if marking his territory, sukuna then licks a stripe up your neck. you’re still stuffed to the very brim, and that’s when he makes you sit up straight. with a disapproving tsk, sukuna crosses all of his arms with a pout like he’s judging you. “cunt’s still too weak though.”

you’re just a babbling mess, the pit of your tummy was in knots as it's still taking in both thickset cursed lengths. from your quavery thighs, it’s a shimmering sap of your precious slick that slithers down between the sprawled crevices of your legs. it’s pretty - and sukuna can’t help but swipe a fat thumb down, getting a taste all for himself. “mhm,” he brings his finger up to his wry compressed lips, savoring your fresh flavor on his spiked tongue. you’re still trying to recollect breaths when the demon softly grabs your chin, boring his cold, scarlet eyes right into yours. “open.”

an overgrown black nail gives the corner of your lips a soft tap and compliantly, you pry open your mouth. sukuna leans in before . . spat! he spits right on the flatness of your pink tongue, hearing you lewdly moan in response. with your flapping lashes nearly blinding your entire view, you could spot that same wolfish grin from an early start to creep against his lips one final time.

“how filthy. my good girl,” and you moan yet again, feeling him press a hand against your tummy — a wee reminder of how stuffed you currently were. “let’s try that again. this time though, i’ll let you ride my stomach tongue, heh.”

✩ ˛˚ . TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“kinkiest shit i’ve ever heard you say, mama,” toji guffaws as his tense shoulders bounce up and down. you couldn’t help but notice the way toji was slowly growing a dad bod, especially after the two of you had another child. he’s still in good shape—and he continued to maintain his usual workouts but fuck, you’d always fawn over his cute round tummy. he’s like a bear, shaggy, chunky, and incredibly soft. every time he’d pound on top of you, his weight would gingerly press into you, rubbing back ‘n forth against your body and you’d just wrap your arms around him. “full nelson, eh? you sure this isn’t the baby fever talkin’ again?”

“tojiii,” you pout, and you watch as he groans the moment you’re aligning yourself on his maddened cream-covered tip. it’s fat - leaking from the top with buttery white droplets of pre. toji reclines back against the couch that sucks his heavy body in as his legs start to spread. once he gets comfy, he looks at you with a sly grin while zeroing his verdant eyes all over your body. “ ‘m sure, i want it,” and you playfully start to run a palm down his bushy hairy chest, stopping at his cute rounded tummy. “want you.”

toji lets out a smoky chortle before pinching a grip near your ass. “alriiight, babygirl. but ‘m not gonna go easy. better hold on tight.”

and oh- toji and full nelson was a deadly combo within itself.

saying he had you stuffed to the max was purely an understatement. one minute you’re on his lap and the next, he’s got you pressed up against his woolly chest with his burly arms pinned up underneath your legs. he’s fucking you silly, plummeting such thick inches inside of your hungry cunt that it makes you see stars. not just stars but the whole damn galaxy. “f- fuuuck, fuck!” you’d gasp, feeling your cunt eagerly twitch at his sudden elastic-like stretch.

toji was strong, and he had no problem lifting you. each time he did, you’d bounce back on his lap, getting stuffed with even more mighty inches of his dick. it’s so wide, he’s merrily caressing through your gummy inner walls before rudely smacking his flushed crownhead against your tender needy cervix. that spot right there makes you shriek, and you can hear toji’s husky laughter from behind the shell of your ear.

“heh- yeah, baby. let me fuckin’ hear ya, take this . . hah, dick like a champ—fuuuck,” and he groans, a single smack of your ass making him briefly bite the inside of his hollow cheek. it’s a lot of weight that’s jerking back against him from you, and toji’s heaving breaths start to get heavier the more your cunt swallows him in wholly..

his virility was unmatched, and toji gave your pretty pussy addictively mean slams until it was squelching out his name. all syllables of it too—

you were loud, especially between your legs which were always toji’s favorite part. “t- tojiii,” you’d whine out his name again, continuously feeling that same caving dip arises near the middle part of your tummy. he’s in so deep, and your back remains to rub against his furry-covered chest. toji’s plump belly was so soft behind you, and the saltiness that started to coat your buds from your incoming release was almost too much to bare. “harder, f- fuck me. ooh! that spot, that f- fuckin’ sp—”

“if i wanted to hear my wife speak i’d ask her talkative pussy instead,” toji grunts, and you let off a bleating whine the second your bare wet cunt’s met with a spank. slap! and the entire sound makes your folds twitch. you moaned, desperately wanting him to do it again. not just once or twice—hell, even thrice. you ached for more of toji’s touch, and he knew that. he knew his wife. you watch as his scarred lips form into a smile, and he spanks your pussy again. “mhm, kinky girl. that turns you on, yeah? ‘course it does. bet if i fuckin’ spat on it you’d go crazy too, hm?”

“tojiii-‘m-gonna-cum,” you whimper out in a quick single second, trying to talk over his rant. you were a bobble head toy, bouncin’ up and down his fat cock. his long girthy inches had you hungry - slobbering from the mouth like a dog for more as he filled you to the very fuckin’ brim. easily, toji’s invading all through your spongy cunt with his thick thighs resting underneath you. your nails cling to his skin like velcro with your mewling whines only pitching louder. “tojiiiii, gonna cu— fuuuck!”

“yeah, i know baby,” he grunts, feeling his balls starting to tighten. toji’s head throws back at the sharp slams of your hips. each time you fall back into his vast lap, his guttural voice drops even deeper. every time it does—you end up throbbing. a cute ‘lil pulse that he always pokes fun at you for. “heh- there’s that cute throb, she’s so fuckin’ needy,” and as your pussy’s squelches cry out even louder, toji growls. “fuck. gonna milk me, s- so good, ‘s that what y’er tryna do?” and you moan, feeling the pad of his thumb ghost down your throat. “want me ‘ta make you a pretty mommy again?”

a whiny, “y-yesss,” slurs out from your glossed lips, and toji snickers. of course. you wanted him to fill you all the way up like always. plug the top until your cunt was just flooded with his hot thick ropes of cum.

and that’s just what he does—toji lets out a gruff groan once he feels himself reaching his limit. with his hips nudging quicker, he grunts at the final punctuating thrust. “f- fuck, take it then. take it like a hah- good girl,” and toji’s plush body underneath you starts to rumble. finally, your legs collapse down from the position they were in once he’s starting to paint the pasty walls of your cunt his whitish color. it’s a lot, ribbons of slick cum that splatter its way throughout the layout of your mottled-covered entrance. “shit,” he swears against your neck, growing quiet to hear the sloppy sounds.

you start to ooze between your thighs, and you moan once toji lifts your leg once more. the bush that glues against his chest hair continued to tickle against your back before you whine. “mhn, atta fuckin’ girl,” he huffs, smearing a thumb down your cunt that’s spitting out any remnants of his gooey seed. it’s hot, drooling down the cracks of your folds that he ends up giving your pussy one more final spank.

“heh, best we start thinkin’ of names again then,” and he nips a soft bite near your ear. “mommy.”

✩ ˛˚ . SATORU GOJO.

he’s the strongest, which also means the strongest in bed.

and satoru’s favorite thing to do was to have you being fucked senseless with your legs gracefully thrown over your head. you’d tease him constantly, saying how since he’s ‘the strongest’, surely, he can’t be the strongest in bed too… right?

wrong,

because that smug ‘lil grin of yours gets wiped off your face almost instantly the second he’s pushing your cute, weak legs over your shoulders. oh- he’d show just how strong he could be, especially underneath the sheets. satoru had stamina for miles, rarely running out of gas and he’d easily steal orgasm after orgasm out of you. after a plethora of pliable positions, you now found yourself laid flat on your back with your legs pinned right behind your head.

“aw! c’mooon, sweets. wanna see how flexible my wife’s pussy can get,” he hoarsely coos, and his playful demeanor slowly vanishes. satoru’s now feral - and he was always feral with you. especially whenever he was stuffed inches deep inside of your sloppy bear-hugging cunt.

you whine, staring up at the white-haired man and he’s still got his blindfold on. it’s halfway on, sexily showing a bit of his right eye as he runs a hand through his tangled frosty strands. satoru’s favorite thing was to manhandle you, toss you around the room ‘n treat your body like a rag doll.

“ ‘toru, fuuuuck,” you’d sob out, the inner pit of your tummy letting off a deep exhale once he’s buried in. the head of his dick’s now thwacking near the hilt, and you’ll never forget the feeling of his long, bulky cock sneakily massaging its way toward your gummy cervix. it’s repetitive, and you’re chewing on your inaudible whimpers at each luscious stroke he gives you. he’s an animal, and each merciless pound makes you trill out his name over ‘n over until your poor, poor vocal chords strain. “don’t stop, p- please. fuck me, fuh— fuuuck.”

“awwwh, my pretty wifey’s so talkative today, especially her too,” he whispers, and you moan once he’s practically laid flat against your bare chest. satoru snakes a hand between your legs, rubbing messy circles against your leaking pussy. a sly grin creases at each corner of his lips as he rubs near your full abdomen. satoru groans, moving his hand toward the middle part of your tummy before softly pressing down - feeling a prodding ‘lil bulge that he knew all too well. “mhm, that’s all me, baby. alllll fuckin’ me.”

your cunt was indeed loud, each sloppy thrust of satoru’s hips whacking into you at full collision makes you gush.

you couldn’t help but soak a portion of his cock with masses of your syrupy slick and it makes him hum. how cute, satoru could even feel your dripping pussy fluttering around his length. he’s thick—and more importantly, he’s fuckin’ big.

satoru’s sweating, and as he continues to hold your legs up over your head, you spot the spasming veins bulging in his arms. beefy, is the perfect word to describe him. every muscle within him flexed whilst he was pounding into you rawly, making sure your greedy cunt always remembered exactly who it belonged to. “mhm, such a pretty girl. gushin’ all on me, think i oughta train thisss—” and he pauses, giving your soddened entrance a playful pat. “—pussy jus’ a bit more, hm? could be a ‘lil stronger, especially since y’r dealin’ with me, baby,” and as he’s talking, he starts to lick near your neck. “fuuuck, ooh i love that fuckin’ grip. nasty girl. mmm, make me just as messy as you, uh huh.”

“fuh— ‘m gonna cum!” you squeak, the intense throbbing between your legs only increases whilst he’s giving you his all with his ragged strokes. into. each hit was more and more ruthless, your head’s spinning, and the beats of your heart only got quicker. you were sure that your pretty glistening slick had his entire cock to the base covered by now. needless to say, you were drenched. satoru even leans upright to your face, snickering once he feels your hands try to pull his blindfold off. “sato—ruuu, cum, ‘m gonna cum.”

“yes, princess i heard you the first time,” he coos, his tone full of smug arrogance. oh, how you wanted to wipe that cocky smirk right off his naturally glossed lips. his appetizing thrusts against you were the definition of straight insanity, and as his hips kept championing at such speedy strokes, you squealed. riiiight there, the mushroomy crown of his cock scraped against the target of your cervix and you nearly go crazy. “ooooh, there it is. there—she—fuckin’ is,” and as his voice grits lower, pausing each stroke to enunciate his sloppy hits against your cunt, it’s almost like he’s talking down to you. but in this case—satoru’s talking down to your cunt, because it’s the only thing he’s staring at.

openly, he snatches his blindfold off and his sparkly eyelashes flap thrice once he makes loving eye contact with your weeping pussy.

“mm, give it to me then, pretty girl. make a fuckin’ mess on me,” and you moan once he pulls your legs up even higher over your head. bringing his sheeny-coated lips up to your ear, he whispers hoarsely, giving your drenched cunt a doubting squeeze. “i dare ya.”

✩ ˛˚ . CHOSO KAMO.

“that?” choso’s eyes widen, hearty irises glued to your phone. you’re showing him some one-minute-long video of a woman getting passionately hammered in what you told him was ‘mating press.’ choso wasn’t new to intimacy, and whenever you recommended new positions for him to try, he’d always get excited. maybe even a bit . . aroused. “o- oh,” and his voice lowly husks, watching at the deeply intimate angles. the woman lay underneath the man and his weight pressed all on her. he was giving her deep and thorough strokes, occasionally giving her sloppy hot kisses in between. choso could feel his heart race as he started to imagine himself doing that exact position to no one other than you.

and he did, because the moment he’s cutely staring at your exposed, nude body underneath him, he can’t help but moan. you’re so pretty, and as he’s feebly trying to align himself, he whimpers.

“mngh, b- baby, ‘s this okay?” and his darkened eyes flicker toward your face. he’s leisurely placing his weight on your body, bringing your legs up to go over his shoulders. glossy, pink lips of his quiver as he feels the weeping wetness of your pussy twitch and drench around his cock. “don’t wanna hah- hurt you, tell me if ‘m too heavy, ‘kay?”

“promise, ‘cho,” you softly coo, your voice as smooth as silk. indeed choso was a tad bit heavy, especially compared to you. he was around a staggering height that’s damn near over feet of six inches tall and he was just looking at you like he was ready to pounce. a needy pout stretches across the thin corners of his lips as he moans, watching openly as your cunt starts to swallow his stoutly pinkish tip. “mmh, that’s it, baby. nice ‘n slow- whenever you’re ready.”

your voice- choso got off from it alone. every sentence that came out of your mouth had him weak. as your legs remained hauled over his droopy shoulders, he’s slowly inserting his cock into your greedy walls. seconds past and it doesn’t take long before wanton whimpers slither their way past your lips. “f- fuck, ‘s fuckin’ warm for me,” choso shudders out a breath, the feeling of your gripping cunt hugging his length tightly sends him shivers. it’s an indescribable feeling that makes his sable-colored brows curl into an arch and within just a few simple thrusts, choso loses it.

within a few rigid beginning thrusts—he gradually starts to get the hang of it. pumpin’ his lanky cock in and out of you as labored breaths snatch from his lungs, he whines yet again. this time though, it’s far louder. you’ve got to cup his face whilst he’s pounding into you rigorously. nearly crushing you with his hefty weight, choso tries to hover a bit over your wet cunt, moaning for the grip as he’s casually rocking back ‘n forth into your warm, welcoming body.

“good boy, f- fuck me, choso- riiight there, mhm!” you’d whine, feeling your eyes starting to dramatically roll and flicker from just his sheer size alone. choso’s cock had such length that it expands allll through you, reading out every area of your cunt like a map. it knows the exact layout, all the secret crevices, and angles to locate and once he reaches there . . you’re fucked.

between you and choso—you honestly don’t even know who’s louder. the moment you call him a ‘good boy’, you can almost feel him melting in your hands like putty. choso’s bumpy hips start to accelerate quicker and you whine every time you feel one of his veins pulse down his cock. “f- fuck, think ‘m gonna hah- cum jus’ from lookin’ at you,” he cutely rambles, each thrust becoming more sloppy. his hips have such power that it makes the entire bed groan out whiny creaks of its own. “you’re so pretty baby, s- so pretty with your legs all over my shoulders like this- heh.”

choso’s fucking you with his pace never slowing, trying to remember how the guy in the video did it. slow and steady, deep but thorough strokes, massage the clit . . and as he’s stretching you out with the swollen head of his cock—you let off a soft shriek. ‘pop!’ and you felt his plump shaft slip out of you immediately.

choso’s pussy-drunken grin falters as he notices his dick fell out of you- but not only that, he’s cumming for real. .

it was so sudden, and as his entire body’s spasming above you, he whimpers whilst struggling to align his milky-covered tip back between the opening of your glistening folds. “f- fuck, ‘s no fair, came too early,” he whines, and you moan once he buries his face into the crook of your neck. he’s embarrassed. your legs were still raised in the air as he’s holding them both firmly, groaning against your skin. a fresh hot batter of oozing cum leaves out of choso’s blushing slit — splattering out lewdly on your puffed pussy folds. choso’s so frustrated that he even tries fucking his cum in between your flaps with the cutest unsatisfied scowl on his lips. “s- sorry, ‘m bein’ a little messy. ‘m sorry, sorry.”

“ ‘s okay, baby,” you let off a quiet moan, your body already starting to feel numb. already, you were starting to miss the gaping outline of his cock driving through your insides but he makes it up by smacking his tip against your cunt. with a wet ‘splash!’ choso ends up smearing his sweltering hot cum all over your entrance, panting the entirety of your twitching sex right his ivory-white color. as he leans in for a kiss, choso clumsily misses your mouth with his lips pressing on your chin instead.

it’s cute, and you had to guide his face with your own hands just to have him shove his tongue into your mouth. choso’s body weight was now starting to grind against you again—but by now, he was straight up jumping you. he wants more, and you could tell as he was moaning into your mouth, grunting from his drooling cock that was rubbing up and down between your pasty entrance.

still swapping cobwebs of spit as the both of you smashed lips on each other—choso’s continues to spank his aching cockhead against your cunt whilst his lips desperately crash against yours. it turns him on, a lot more than he thought- and choso thinks he may have just found out his new favorite kink.

you.

✩ ˛˚ . SUGURU GETO.

being in a relationship with a boxer had its perks.

suguru geto—he was known for his fights, but more importantly his flexible positions. you’d always tease him about it, pokin’ fun at how you wish he’d fold you like his opponents one time for once. but oh, you’re taken aback once he takes you up on that offer.

“nuh uh, don’t tap out now, baby. let’s see that cute form,” geto grunts, pressing a wet kiss near the inside of your neck. the two of you were in his private gym, specifically his private ring where he’d always train. today though, you were needy, teasing him at how you wanted him to be put in a chokehold like he did to his opponents. but, the moment he’s got you straddling his lap as you’re cockwarming him, you’re nothing but a wet babbling mess. you moan, letting off a breathy gasp once the top part of his boxing glove rubs against your sobbing cunt. you were soaked, making a mess on the mat and a soft gasp creeps out the back of your throat once he wraps a beefy arm around your throat.

safely, geto’s got you in a firm chokehold — the exact one you’d usually see him perform on his other opponents. embarrassingly enough, your cunt twitches almost instantly, and you were trying to grind your hips back into him. “hngh, suguru- fuuuck,” you purr out, letting off a weeping mewling whimper as you felt his fat pointed dick ream a path through your insides. the entire gym was quiet. the only sounds that could’ve been heard were the wet sloshing sounds of geto’s glove gently smacking against your sprawled open pussy. psh after pshh and it only gets louder as you squirm, your thighs parting.

he’s big, manhandling you like this while you’re in a mere chokehold. once you’re starting to sloppily bounce on his lap, you can hear him hiss from the enticing friction. the electric sting of both mounds of flesh slamming on each other ends up giving you both whiplash. “h- hah, fuck, good girl. ride it—move those hips, fuck me back- mmph,” he starts to groan, the weight of your ass getting more and more impactful. geto’s meaty thighs glue against yours and you moan, feeling the curve of his cock rummaging through your squashy insides.

he’s so thick, that his plump tip runs through your tremulous walls before it frantically jackhammers its way to your cervix. letting off a squalling ‘ah!’ of a squeak, your back ends up falling into his broad chest. geto’s sweaty, bare skin rubs off against your skin and he groans. the sly dark-haired boxer wore nothing but his thinly made everlast boxing shorts. “suguruuuu,” you cutely drag out his name, moaning at the way his beefy bicep still wrapped around your neck. you’re bouncin’ up and down repeatedly and it’s almost comical at how your eyes were bulging out of their holes. your tongue was fully lolled, and you’ve never felt more stuffed. hit after hit, by this point, you were sure geto’s cock was gonna give your pretty pussy a solid, fair K.O.

but oh, geto ends up fucking you round after round - literally. he went from having you ride him to him pounding you into his squishy, red mat. your face vigorously presses into the cushion as you’re moaning, desperately whining out his name while he’s ‘practicing’ his special techniques on your cunt. the entire scene was lewd, and as you continued to whine out pathetic cacophonies of, ‘suguruuu,’ — ‘riiight there,’ — or his personal favorite, ‘ooooh, hit it there baby!’ ‘s, he’d feel his dick twitch inside you every time.

your ass raises the second he grabs ahold of your hip, and he’s madly drilling into you raw. each sloppy stroke and twist of his hips makes your toes curl and the bittersweet taste of your saliva ends up trickling down the side of your mouth, landing face-first on the vermillion-colored boxing mat. “fuckin’ shiiit, ‘m gonna cum, sweetheart,” he huffs, resting his free hand on your arched spine. so pretty - the way your ass tries to thrust back into his sharp hips was oh-so-cute. your pussy only got more sloppy, and as he’s feeling his cock preparing to release itself, you could almost hear a whimper snarl out from his throat. “ah, tell me where, f- fuck. talk to me, pretty.”

“i- insiiiide,” you squeal out with short breaths, his cock merrily kneading through your walls. it’s almost filthy at how loud your cunt was. just drooling such molasses of sheeny slick on his length, making an even bigger mess between your legs and on the fighting mat too. as he’s giving you his final, victorious thrusts that make your mouth snap open — a fairly lewd K. O., geto grunts, losing the match with his opponent being nothing more than your sweet, slippery cunt.

instantaneously, wads of thin bubbly ropes mesh with your slick juices, a pretty white ring foamin’ around his base. your release slams into you like a semi-truck, and your eyes crossed almost instantly.

with his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, he’s pouring in such slimy amounts that end up tearing straight down your pulsing bare slit. geto groans, hazed and all as his darkened eyes glance at how you were perfectly arched for him. this position was perfect for you in his eyes.

ass up — face down, “goddamn,” he grumbles through pearly gritted teeth and a slack jaw. mewing satisfied coos purr out of your spit-slicked lips as you feel him plugging you up to the brim, hearing the wet plops ‘n paps of his hot, sticky cum dripping onto the mat. you only imagined what it looked like, how much of a fuckin’ mess you were. “hah- aren’t you a champ,” he pants, and you moan once geto smacks your ass.

speedily, he now makes you flip over with a swift toss of a single brawny arm before picking you up. “mmhn, sweetheart. you did ‘s good for me,” and as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, geto gives you a chaste kiss. a few loose strands of hair stick against your forehead as his tongue curls its way inside of your hot mouth before he snickers, pulling away. “ah, there’s one more position i wanna try though.”

“w- what?” you heave, pouting the second his lips depart from yours.

geto re-aligns himself between your leaking cunt that’s still profusely spurting out clods of milky clumps of his cum before he lifts you just a bit higher against his chest. “hm, oh- i just fuck you while standing up,” and you moan, wrapping your arms around his broad neck. ravened, feral eyes meet yours one more time and geto lets off a husky grunt, his boxing glove sneaking between your legs. “you’re my big girl though, yeahh?”

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Elf lover who researches immortality to make sure you, his human wife would never die. Unfortunately, he spends most of your lifetime with his nose buried in a book, and misses out on so much.

When he realizes you’ve become old and gray in the blink of an eye… he’s heart broken. You’re in pain, he couldn’t burden you with an eternity of this. If only he had spent more time with you, given you his all instead of researching something that might not even be real.

When you die, he’s inconsolable. You were everything to him. His love, his life, the very air he breathes, and without you he feels like he’s suffocating.

One day he learns about reincarnation, and that’s when he begins searching for you. You had always said the bond you shared would last forever, and god he hoped it was true.

When he found you, all he could feel was… impatient and upset. You were a newborn, unable to do anything but cry, feed, and sleep.

He let you be, making sure to come back when you were an adult. All he wanted was to be in your presence, to feel your warmth and soft touch again.

Part of him knew there was a chance some man would ask for your hand in marriage before he could return… but he held on to the words you said.

“I’ll always love you… not even death can change that.”

Although you didn’t remember your past life, you still felt a strange sensation in your chest when you met him for the first time. He had been watching you the past few years, scaring away potential suitors and making sure you were safe, but this was your first meeting with him.

He was gentle, kind, and attentive. When his hand brushed against yours, there was a spark that made your body feel like it was on fire.

It didn’t take long for marriage to come up after he started courting you. He wanted you back as soon as possible. Despite being an elf that would live forever, the two decades he spent apart from you felt like centuries. Time slowed down with your absence, and he couldn’t bear being apart from you any longer.

After marrying you, he finally felt at peace. Getting to see you underneath him, mewling in pleasure as he held onto your hips and fucked into you was nothing short of ecstasy. He hadn’t taken another woman the entire time he had been waiting for you, and it felt nice to feel the warmth of your cunt after being lonely for so long.

He spent most of his days holding you, his hands tracing your soft sides and belly, moving down your thighs and then between them.

Finally, he got a second chance, and this time he would cherish you with everything he had.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads

[calypso-rt]

HONEYMOON

with Rafe Cameron

-> Rafe x F!Reader

📍 Amalfi Coast, Italy 🇮🇹

You knew honeymooning with Rafe Cameron would be an experience.

But as you step onto the sun drenched terrace of your private villa overlooking the endless stretch of the Mediterranean, waves crashing gently against the cliffs below, you realize nothing could have prepared you for this.

It’s breathtaking. The kind of view that belongs in a postcard, all golden light and soft ocean breeze, the scent of lemon trees lingering in the air.

And then there’s Rafe, grinning like he planned this entire thing himself (he didn’t), hands in his pockets, watching you expectantly.

“Well?” he prompts, shifting closer, voice dipping into something softer. “Worth marrying me for?”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you. “Jury’s still out.”

Rafe hums, unconvinced. “Mm. Guess I’ll have to spend the next week proving you made the right choice.”

Before you can fire back, his arms loop around your waist, pulling you into him with that effortless ease, the kind that still makes your breath catch, even after everything. His lips find your temple, lingering just long enough to send warmth spreading through your chest.

And suddenly, you don’t care about the luggage still sitting by the door. Or the very long flight it took to get here.

Because Rafe is here. And he’s yours.

And if the next week looks anything like this?

You’re definitely in trouble.

☀️ Lazy Tanning on the Coast

The afternoon sun is warm against your skin, a lazy breeze rolling in from the water as you stretch out on the lounge chair. The sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below is almost hypnotic, so much so that you don’t even notice Rafe shifting closer until you feel his fingers graze your wrist. “You’re not even trying to tan,” he murmurs, lips curving into a smirk. You peek at him over your sunglasses. “Maybe because I don’t need to turn into a lobster like you.” Rafe scoffs, dramatically offended. “Lobster? Baby, I’m gonna be golden.” “You’re gonna be burnt." He ignores that, reaching over to steal your drink without asking, sipping lazily before setting it back down, closer to his side of the table. You huff, but before you can snatch it back, he shifts onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he studies you. “What?” you ask, suspicious. His expression softens, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “You just look good. Happy.” The words settle warm in your chest, and for once, you don’t have a teasing remark ready. Instead, you reach out, threading your fingers through his where they rest between you. “I am,” you admit. And with him under the golden Italian sun, you really are.

🏍 Him absolutely renting a Vespa just to “impress you”

“You’re going to kill us.” Rafe scoffs, revving the Vespa like it’s a full blown motorcycle. “Baby, have a little faith.” You tighten your grip around his waist, already regretting this. “Last time you drove something this small, you ran over Topper’s foot.” “Okay, first of all, that was his fault for standing too close. Second, this is different. I’ve got it under control.” Famous last words. The Vespa wobbles as he takes off, and you let out an actual scream, clinging to him for dear life. Rafe just laughs, one hand way too casually gripping the handlebar. “Relax,” he says over the wind, sounding downright smug. “You’re in good hands.” You peek over his shoulder, past the stunning coastline, the rows of pastel-colored buildings, the winding cobblestone streets you’re probably about to crash into, and sigh. “Just try not to get us banned from Italy, okay?” Rafe chuckles, his free hand reaching down to squeeze yours where it rests against his stomach. “No promises, Mrs. Cameron.” And despite yourself, despite the very real possibility of disaster, you can’t help but smile.

🍝 Romantic candelit dinners where you can't keep your eyes off of him

The restaurant is tucked into the cliffs, candlelight flickering against white linen tablecloths, the sound of waves crashing below blending seamlessly with the soft hum of conversation. It’s the kind of place straight out of a dream: warm, intimate, effortlessly romantic. And yet, the only thing you can focus on is Rafe. He sits across from you, sleeves rolled up, tanned skin golden in the glow of the candles. There’s a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he watches you, fingers idly tracing the rim of his wine glass. “You’re staring,” he murmurs. You roll your eyes, spearing a piece of pasta with your fork. “You’re imagining things.” Rafe leans forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Mmm. Don’t think so.” His voice dips, teasing but quiet, like it’s meant just for you. “Starting to think you like me, sweetheart.” You hum, pretending to consider. “Well, I did marry you. So, I guess you’re not totally awful.” His smirk deepens, but instead of responding, he reaches across the table, fingers grazing your wrist before curling around your hand completely. The warmth of his touch sends a flutter through your chest, one you pretend not to feel as he rubs slow, lazy circles against your skin. For once, there’s no bickering. No teasing. Just him. Just this. And as the night stretches on, wine glasses emptied, dessert shared, his foot nudging yours under the table, you realize something for the millionth time. You don’t just like Rafe Cameron. You love him.

🌊 A boat ride that ends with both of you in the water.

The sun is high, the water impossibly blue as the boat drifts lazily along the coast. It’s quiet except for the occasional hum of the engine and the rhythmic lapping of waves against the hull. Rafe stands at the bow, arms outstretched like he owns the ocean, wind ruffling his sun-bleached hair. “See? Told you renting a boat was a genius idea.” You lean back against the railing, sipping your drink. “Mmm. I’ll be impressed when you actually do something.” He turns, raising a brow. “Is that a challenge?” You smirk. “More like a fact.” And then, before you can react, Rafe strides toward you, that dangerous glint in his eye as he sets your drink to the side. “Rafe—” Too late. His arms wrap around you, warm and solid, and in one swift motion, he dives off the side, taking you with him. The water is a shock, cool against your sun-kissed skin, bubbles rushing around you as you resurface with a gasp. “Rafe!” you splutter, shoving wet hair from your face. He’s already floating beside you, grinning so smugly you could throttle him. “You said I should do something.” “You’re impossible!” You flick water at him, but he just laughs, swimming closer. Then, his hands find your waist beneath the waves, tugging you against him effortlessly. His voice drops, lower, softer. “But you love me anyway.” You roll your eyes, but your arms loop around his neck, your legs tangling with his in the water. “Unfortunately.” He grins before closing the space between you, his lips warm despite the cool water, the sea carrying you both in lazy circles. And maybe his boat idea was kind of genius.

🛏 Mornings spent tangled in crisp white sheets, sunlight spilling through open windows, his lazy grin the first thing you see.

Morning comes slow, golden light spilling through the open windows, the soft rustle of the ocean breeze slipping through sheer white curtains. The sheets are a tangled mess, warm, wrinkled, wrapped around your legs and twisted somewhere between you and Rafe. You blink sleepily, stretching against the pillows, only to be met with the sight of him. Rafe lies beside you, arm thrown lazily over your waist, his bare chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. His hair is a mess, sun-kissed strands falling over his forehead, and when he stirs, just barely, his lips curve into a lazy, lopsided grin. “Morning, Mrs. Cameron,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep. Your heart does that stupid fluttering thing, but you roll your eyes anyway, fingers tracing absentmindedly along his jaw. “You just like saying that.” He hums, eyes still half-closed as he tugs you closer, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your bare shoulder. “Obviously.” You sigh, letting yourself melt into him, into the warmth of his skin, the steady press of his heartbeat against yours. Neither of you rush to move. There’s nowhere to be, nothing to do but exist here in this perfect little pocket of time where the world is quiet and love feels as easy as breathing. And as Rafe buries his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling something about five more minutes, you know, without a doubt, you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

A/N: Inspo struck guys I'm on a roll

[maruflix]

CAVE CANEM #oneshot #squidgame #thefrontman

Cave canem. Beware of dogs. In the ruthless games, there are countless hounds looking for prey. Oh Young-Il promises to be your shield, your shepherd, your guardian angel— but you soon find out that it’s often the unassuming ones who are the most dangerous.

feat. the frontman / hwang in-ho / oh young-il　　⎯⎯　wc. 2.5k

cw: female reader, yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, manipulation, squid game spoilers, i’ll use all of his names & nicknames here so don’t get confused, i do not condone yanderes irl, no beta we die like all 455 players in season 1

I.

It’s funny how tragedy brings people together.

It has only been twenty two hours since you entered the twisted battle royale with 45.6 billion won dangled on top of you, but you’ve found companionship in fellow participants: Player 456 Seong Gi-hun, Player 388 Kang Dae-ho, Player 390 Park Jung-bae, and Player 001.

Oh, Player 001.

“How are your wounds?”

You look up to see Player 001 — or, as he introduced himself to you, Oh Young-il. His eyes gleam in worry as he takes in your appearance: hair disheveled, knee bruised, sleeves rolled up to reveal the scratches littering your hands.

You’re just glad you didn’t get killed during the Red Light, Green Light stampede.

“This is nothing,” you assured him with a genuine smile, “thank you for helping me.”

Young-il pauses. Then, as if remembering something, he reaches into his pockets and hands you a small carton of milk. “Here. You must be dehydrated.” He watches as you gratefully take it, instantly drinking the contents, “Don’t worry about the next game. We’ll get through it together.”

Tears are brimming in your eyes at the kind man’s encouragement. You let him take your hand and nod at him, smiling. “Thank you, Young-il-ssi.”

Young-il gives you one last smile before climbing back down to rejoin the rest of the group. His movements alerts Jung-bae, who mindlessly throws a glance his way.

Jung-bae instantly pauses. He knew from the start that Player 001 is not a simple man, but the expression on Young-il’s face is nothing short of terrifying, like a tiger eyeing its’ prey. He follows Young-il’s line of sight and finds you, curled on one of the beds.

A chill runs down his spine.

II.

You don’t know how you got through the Six-Legged Pentathlon, but you did.

Chosen as the one to play ddakji — it’s not like you sucked at it, but you were scared you would be a burden to your teammates — your hands couldn’t stop trembling.

The squares of ddakji felt like rocks in your hand, your shoulders heavy by the fear of dragging everyone down. Their encouragement and cheers merely heightened your anxiety.

That was, until a hand gently clasps your own. “Don’t think too much about it. You said you won more times than the ddakji guy, didn’t you?” Young-il��s eyes twinkle, his shoulders lax, as if he’s not currently playing for his life, “Well, you won’t receive slaps if you fail, so go wild.” It’s amazing how he manages to silence all your fears.

You flipped the ddakji on your first try.

III.

In-ho knew it from the start, but the reality of it still disgusts him. Humans are selfish creatures, blinded by greed, driven by instincts.

He sighs, looking at the results of the vote— 139 for ‘O’ and 116 for ‘X’. One hundred and thirty nine people marching to their own deaths like brainless maggots.

He sneaks a glance your way and sees that you’re shuddering. His heart drops to the pits of his stomach. Slipping away from Gi-hun, he makes his way to you. He keeps on surprising himself: joining Player 456 in the games, cheering with the others during the pentathlon, and now comforting you?

But In-ho is not one to ruminate over his actions too much. He knows what he wants, he gets what he wants, and right now all he wants is to hold you in his arms.

“Young-il,” your eyes instantly land on his and he wonders how it will feel to hear you call him by his real name, “I’m scared. I’m so scared, I don’t want to die!”

He’s beside you the next second, catching you before you can fall to the ground, strong arms wrapped securely on your waist. In-ho falters for a fraction of a second, but his hand quickly shoots up to caress your hair.

Receiving the kindest act for the first time in many years, you can’t help but to cry in his warm embrace, letting out all your frustration and fear. His touches are so tender, so serene, and being enveloped in his tall figure makes you feel protected.

In-ho calms your sobs with gentle shushes, rubbing circles on your back. He was unsure then, but his heart is determined now— he wants you, he’s got to have you, and there’s nothing under the seven heavens that will stop him.

He shudders at the thought of having you all to himself. In-ho can barely control himself right now, when you fit so good in his arms, your skin brushing against his. What would it feel like? To have you next to him every second of every day? He’d shower you with all of him— all his riches, all his affection, all his time.

First, the two of you will have to exit the game safely.

His grip on you tightens as he lifts his gaze from your trembling figure to the several pink guards stationed near the door. In the distance, they straighten their posture in alarm.

Even among the many faces of the players, they can locate their boss in a heartbeat — the Front Man is still the Front Man, even if he’s amusing himself by playing dress up. The way he carries himself is so telling, they have no idea how the players are none the wiser to the wolf hiding amongst the sheep.

... And right now, their superior’s glare speaks volumes about what he’s conveying.

A warning.

IV.

‘One more game,’ they said, ‘it’ll be fun,’ they said.

The rotating stage under your feet is spinning at a controlled pace, yet you feel like you’re going to throw up. The light feels blinding, the gasps from the participants making your head spin even more.

Amidst all the chaos, Young-il’s hand clasping yours serves as an anchor.

“You okay?” His voice is as gentle as ever, unworried.

Even Gi-hun, the former winner of the games, is not exempt to the anxiety and apprehension that shadows the rest of them, but Young-il has never showed any signs of stress— like he has a safety net... or like he’s very sure of his own abilities.

You nod, grateful that he’s allowed you to stick by him like glue all this time. He squeezes your hand in encouragement, smiling.

“Two.” The woman’s voice announces cheerily. In an instant, the crowd erupts in disarray.

Young-il looks around. “Stick close to me,” he murmurs before pulling you with him towards one of the rooms. Not wanting to be a burden to him, you quickly fall in line, matching his steps. His back is very comforting as he cleverly navigates the chaotic hall, avoiding the other players.

Just when the two of you reached the door, a player appears, crashing into the two of you and sending you tumbling away from Young-il. Your world spins as you struggle to pick yourself up, searching for him.

Thankfully, you locate him almost immediately. A few steps away from the door, Young-il is strangling your attacker. “Get in! I’ll be right behind you!”

Fueled by adrenaline, you nod frantically, moving to enter the room. But there’s already another person inside.

True to his word, Young-il quickly scrambles to the room, slamming the door behind him. He immediately takes note of the anomaly, his expression dark.

“I-I was here first!” The stranger sputtered, shuffling away from Young-il.

There are loud bangs coming from the other side of the door and you quickly hold onto the lock, tears now falling from your eyes. “Sorry!” You yell, ”Sorry!”

“Five. Four. Three.” The countdown continues mercilessly.

You look back, “The other guy—!” but your words are caught in your throat.

Young-il has the man in a chokehold. For a moment you had no idea why he’s handling the guy so aggressively when it’s obvious that he’s more scared of the two of you than the two of you are of him.

“Two.”

“Young-il!”

“One.”

CRACK!

You scream. The man slips from Young-il’s hold, limp.

Lifeless.

Young-il’s gaze meets yours. There’s an emotion you can’t quite place on them, but it’s quickly replaced by that of horror. “I-I had to do it.” Tears start to brim on the corner of his eyes, his hands visibly shaking, “I had to-” he desperately crawls away from the dead man as he covers his face in terror, “I’m a monster, I-”

Crying, you kneel next to him, pulling him into an embrace, “No, you’re not,” assuring him in between sobs, “it’s this game, it’s the game’s doing, it’s not your fault!”

Breath haggard, In-ho rubs your head comfortingly. You didn’t even realize that he has long since stopped crying. He covers your ears, knowing by now that the sound of gunshots horrifies you, and glances at the body of the man he just killed.

You watched him kill one guy and you get this rattled? He sighs quietly.

For you, he would kill a thousand more.

V, PART ONE.

“Hey girl,” a voice booms from behind you, catching you by surprise.

You let go of your hand that’s holding Young-il’s, turning your head to address the stranger.

“Saw you from afar and I can’t believe I didn’t talk to you sooner.” The purple haired man wastes no time getting into your space, running a hand through his hair. “D’ya know who I am? Because I wanna know who you are.”

You stiffen up. Of course you know him. Who didn’t? The number one ambassador of the ‘O’ team, aka the people who wish to continue the games, the outspoken menace, Thanos.

Thanos catches sight of something behind you and wavers before looking back at you. “A-anyway. I’ll see you around. Team’s always open, baby!” He exclaims, but it’s obvious that he’s trying to hide his nervousness.

You look back to see Young-il smiling at you. “Wonder what that’s about.”

The people here freaks you out. You sigh. “I know, right?”

In-ho hums, his finger treading along the sharp edges of the fork.

V, PART TWO.

The bathroom is a mess— team ‘O’ and team ‘X’, warring against each other, fueled by the actions of a junkie who’s high out of his mind.

In the middle of it all, Hwang In-ho calmly makes his way to a purple haired man who is slumped on the ground, yelling at his friend.

“Get him, get that sucker! He tried to kill me, man!”

A dark shadow looms over Thanos, and he looks up in terror, recognizing In-ho immediately. “W-what are you-?”

In-ho eyes him coldly before swinging down.

The cold gleam of a fork is the last thing Thanos sees before it penetrates his neck.

VI.

The fire of revolution burns bright behind all of you. Your hands may tremble, but your rifle is secure in your arms. All those first person shooter games are finally coming in handy as you manage to actually shoot down several guards.

“You okay?!” Young-il questions in panic, “You’re doing a good job! It’s gonna get more dangerous afterwards, but I can’t leave you behind!”

You nod, reassuring him, following him up the stairs with two other men in tow. Right now, you are brother-in-arms, comrades, fighting for your freedom.

Young-il halts, sensing the presence of a guard, before speaking into the comm, “Gi-hun-ssi, we found it.” he holds out an arm in front of you like a shield, “Start attacking and draw their attention. Then we’ll hit them from behind.”

Your knees tremble in fear and anticipation. Somehow, with Young-il on your side, you feel like this ragtag team of freedom fighters can actually succeed.

“Okay, got it!” Gi-hun’s invigorated reply came from the other side.

Young-il pockets the comm, nodding to the two men. They nod back in response and move forward. He quickly moves in front of you, signaling you to stay behind him.

Just when you thought about how reliable he is, two sharp gunshots resonates in the air.

Is it over?

You peek from behind Young-il’s back only to be met by the horrific sight of Player 015 and Player 047 sprawled on the ground, choking on their own blood.

Young-il’s rifle is still pointed at the two of them, his eyes cold.

Who is this person? You scramble to get away from him, alarm bells ringing in your head. Did he miss his shot? Did I see wrong? Is there a guard in front of him?

“Young-il-ssi, what’s going on?” came Gi-hun’s distressed voice from the comm, “Are you shooting?”

You watch in horror as Young-il calmly reloads his rifle before squatting down and glancing your way. “Gi-hun-ssi, I’m sorry.” Like a seasoned actor, the unscathed Young-il puts on a strained voice, “It’s all over. They got us too.”

Gi-hun’s voice is blurred as you fall to your knees, finally coming into terms with the betrayal of the person you’ve come to trust the most.

Young-il momentarily looks away from you to shoot the two men one more time. Cold, unfeeling, his fingers steady like he’s done this countless times before.

This is not the Young-il you know.

When it’s all over, several pink guards march up to him, a coat and a black mask in tow. Young-il (?) lifts a hand up to stop them, turning to finally address you.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, your fingers desperately trying to locate the trigger on your rifle, but the man in front of you is much quicker. He yanks the rifle from your trembling hands, unloading the bullets and kicking the weapon away as you back away to the wall, shivering in fear.

He sighs, taking the coat from one of the guards before kneeling down to your height. “I won’t hurt you. You know that, right?”

Confused, you can only gape at him. “W-who are you..?”

“Hwang In-ho. My real name.” he offers, tenderly wiping a tear from your cheek, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lie to you. I’ll explain everything, if you’ll just give me a chance..?”

In one swift motion, he wraps his coat around your shoulders. You look at his eyes, as tender and unchanging as ever— then it dawns on you: he has always been this way.

“Mr. Front Man, sir, everything is ready.”

You let In-ho pull you to your feet, his touch as comforting as ever as the two of you pass by countless guards. They make way for the two of you, the hierarchy crystal clear when not one of them dare to step out of line.

You’ve been such a fool. All the signs were there, the reason why Player 001 carries himself with such grace as if he’s untouchable. How the guards say things about ‘not tolerating actions that will disrupt the votes’ and yet kept quiet when it’s Player 001’s turn to speak his mind. The way they would shuffle away from him slightly whenever he walks—

In-ho turns to look at you, his eyes kind, “Do you trust me?”

Yet, you can’t bring yourself to say no.

note: i know i appeared on the dash absolutely losing it over the recruiter/the salesman/ddakji guy (he’ll get his own fic after this don’t worry) but i took one look at this man with his hair down and i fell into a SPIRAL. this is totally a passion project. front man ftw 🙆‍♀️

[irisinluv]

Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? PT 1

All I could do was stare at my reflection. This had to be a joke. I was going to wake up in my bed, right this instant.

“FUCK!”

Ok, so, pinching myself hurts. That’s fine. This is like. Some sort of lucid dream. What do they say to do if you’re lucid dreaming? Oh, that’s right, put your finger in your palm, it’ll phase through!

I resist the urge to scream as my finger meets solid flesh.

You see, I’m not in the right body. Or the right world from what I can tell. No, I’m supposed to be back home, waking up in a panic as I realize my alarm didn’t go off cuz my phone died after I stayed up way too late reading manga.

But of course, I’m not late to work, I’m in a lavish bedchamber right out of the latest webcomic I’d been reading! And by the looks of it…. I’m the crown princes crazy fiancé! As much as I love reading about the Isekai trope, I never wanted to be in one! And come on- as the Yandere Villain!? Couldn’t this at least be original? There’s hundred of stories just like “my next life as a villainess,” why couldn’t I be like… a stable hand or something? Ugh. Ok. Think!

I need to get home. Do the protagonists ever get back home in the stories I read? I pace around my room and rack my brain over every webcomic I’ve ever read, every manga I waited in line for, every anime I binged, even the unfinished manhwas! I can’t think of a single fucking one where they get home?

Well this isn’t going to stop me. I have a cat who’s going to absolutely flip if she’s not given fresh kibble in the morning. She has enough in her bowl for another 2 days but she needs it topped off ok! She’s a princess! I can’t be stuck here! Who’s going to throw her pompom toy for her if I’m not there???

What did all these have in common? What’s the barebones trope layout? Ok let’s see

1) person either died or falls asleep and wakes up in a new world…. Check

2) person is the villain!…. Check

3) to avoid the characters terrible death, person tries to change the story, ends up being new protagonist…

Ohhh… hey…. Do these Isekai characters ever just…. Play along? Even the “reincarnated as a baby” ones, they only play along till they’re old enough to try to run away or rework the political structure of the entire city. Maybe that’s it. Make it to the books natural end, and you’ll wake up where you belong. It’s like when you get part of a song stuck in your head. Play the whole song, and it’ll get out.

Ok, I’ve trained most of my adult life for this- I can totally ace this trope! I just have to stalk the crown prince, act totally in love with him, and be a bitch to the female lead. Then my finance will leave me, I’ll do some crazy dramatic act to try to kill the female lead, and then I’ll be exiled or executed, and wake up to feed my cat. How hard can it be?

Hard. It’s very hard.

Where the hell did he go!? My fiancé, the crown prince Eric, was JUST HERE. I swear! He turned that corner back there and then went down this hall… at least I think it was this hall? Ugh! This is impossible! For someone with such loud shoes and an armed escort, you’d think he’d be easier to follow! Now my feet just hurt. They don’t make these fancy shoes to run around the castle all day. They’re meant to daintily peek from beneath my many skirts as I host a tea party or some shit.

Ok. I’ve got this! I’ll just peek into each room until I find him, maybe I can get a better feel for the layout, or maybe find his office and see if he has a schedule or a day planner or something I can use to make this whole stalking thing easier.

I begin snooping, and it’s a bit of thrill to be honest! Back in my real life, I’m the kind of person to hide a wrapper deep in the trash can if I’m babysitting, sitting on the floor playing a game on my phone after the kid goes to bed rather than “making myself at home” the way the parents insisted as they showed me how to access Netflix. I’ve never been a snooper. Now…. Well. It’s totally on brand for this character! I’m not me, I’m a psycho lovesick fool! I giggle a bit at that as my fingers trail over a shelf of beautiful pottery in some sort of sitting room.

“What’s so amusing dearest?”

I practically screech as my heart leaps to my throat and I whirl around, and see the very person I’d been searching for has snuck up on ME…. That’s so unfair!

“W-what? O-oh! Nothing! I was just- uh, admiring the pottery?”

I stutter out as I try to recall how to act like a human being while simultaneously trying to stop feeling my own pulse in my ears. The idiot has the nerve to LAUGH! Full on snort and everything!

“What are you doing in this wing anyways? Weren’t you meant to be out riding today?”

Shit. I was so busy trying to figure out his schedule, I didn’t consider maybe the body I was shoved into had a schedule of her own. Ok. Play it cool- I’ve got this!

“Yes, well, I decided I wasn’t in the mood and wanted to stay in today instead.”

His brows furrow

“Oh, but you love riding? Are you feeling ill? I can fetch the royal physician for you if you-“

“No! That’s- that’s quite alright! I simply wanted a change of schedule, that is all. Um… what about you? What are your plans for the day?”

He looked a bit surprised at that, and a small smile danced on his lips.

“I was just going to the library to do some paperwork, boring stuff really, and then of course our dinner at its regular time.”

I nod like that means anything to me. Ok think, if I were crazy in love with this man, what would I say?

“Would you like some company? Reading in the library sounds really nice, maybe we could have some tea as well?”

Ok. I’m already fucking this up. He looks confused…. God damnit …. I knew I shouldn’t have skimmed over those early chapters- but the translation was shit ok!?

“Well… I’d actually love that. But are you sure? You haven’t exactly shown interest in reading, and you’ve never requested something like this before…. In fact I don’t think I can recall the last time we’ve interacted outside of dinner or a scheduled social event in… well. Ever.”

Wait…. What? Isn’t my character like goo-goo-ga-ga over him? Are you telling me she never asks to just… spend time with her lover? They only talk during dinner and parties or whatever?

“Of course, I think it’ll be relaxing! Just lead the way!”

My brain is working overtime as I smile politely at him as we reach the library and I pretend to browse for books. I’m missing something here. What is-

Oh. Shit. That’s right. I’m supposed to be really insecure and awkward about him. That’s why she stalks him- she spends all her free time obsessing over this man from the shadows, threatening the competition…. Yet chokes up when it comes to how to act natural. Her inferiority complex is what drives her entire character. And then to him, they’re just two nobles in an arranged marriage who speak on dull subjects like the weather and horse rides…. And who barely interact.

This must have been a real big shake up, she always stays out of sight, they never run into each other by chance. And she certainly never would ask to sit and read with him…. Maybe watch him do his work from a hidden keyhole somewhere, but that’s right…. She IS more of a traditional lady with her hobbies. She was raised to be the perfect noble wife, so naturally, her hobbies include things like dancing, needlepoint, and horse riding. The only studies she’s interested in are etiquette and things that noble ladies are supposed to know.

Well…. Shit. That’s so like me to already have fucked this up. But that’s ok. That’s ok- he’s going to meet the female lead and fall in love and so I just have to be the obstacle they need to overcome. Surely the details don’t matter too much…. It’s my first day in the job ok? Not everyone’s perfect!

I find a book that honestly actually sounds interesting, it’s historical, but it’s giving Hellen of Troy, the closest to a dark romance I think I’ll get from an academic personal library like this. I settle into what looks like the comfiest chair in the central area, and begin reading. The prince and I exist comfortably, the only sound being the scratch of his pen, and the occasional rustle of paper as he flips a document or I finish a page. We continue like this for several hours until he puts down his pen and clears his throat, getting my attention.

“I know it’s a long way from dinner…. But I was thinking I’d grab something light for a mid day meal and then take a walk about the gardens …. Would you care to join me?”

Honestly, some lunch and pretty royal gardens sounds like so much fun, so I agree. As we begin walking, I ponder how I can recover from all this.

You know what.. this can totally still go to plan. This is just me being the evil villain and sinking my claws into him! The female lead will appear, and I’ll reveal my true, nasty side to her! She’ll have to fight to save the prince from his marriage to me!

*insert evil laughter!*

“You’re smiling.”

“W-what?”

“A smile. It suits you. You’ve been doing that a lot today….. I like it.”

Ok and now I’m blushing. I go to reply when I suddenly find myself weightless for a moment, and then hit the ground with a hard thump.

“Ow! What the-!?”

My eyes snap up and glare at this pretty blonde girl who just rammed into me, and sent me flying

“Do you not know how to watch where you’re going!? Owww…. Ugh.”

Ok I’m sorry I’m usually a nice and understanding person but I’ve never been literally knocked over before! Who does that to a person?

Eric helps me to my feet and sends a reproachful glare toward the girl, asking me if I’m alright with most concerned look…. And the girl gasps and says,

“C-crown prince Eric! I apologize! I’d didn’t recognize you!”

She drops into a curtsy and lowers her eyes all demure and modest as if she hadn’t just bulldozed me. I send an incredulous look toward Eric…. She… didn’t see HIM? I’m the one she took out? He gives me an equally puzzled look and so I decide, you know what, fuck it. I’m this evil person in this world…. I need to act like it!

“And not recognizing his highness is an excuse for taking out the princess consort, soon to be crown princess? Are you blind or just daft?”

Oh my god I really just called someone daft! This feels like when you stay up late thinking all the witty comebacks you could’ve used against your high school bullies, except actually using them in the moment!

And Eric is being a sweetie and letting me handle this, waiting expectantly for blondie to answer me, just prompting her,

“Well?”

“Forgive me…. Princess consort…. You are right. My oversight in inexcusable. It appears neither of us were looking where we were going. I hope we can start fresh!”

I scoff- that’s it? Who does this bitch think she is? Yes, I was looking at Eric, but I was going a walking pace, who rounds a corner with so much force that you knock someone over?

Suddenly something clicks- oh shit! This is the female lead!!!! This scene happened in the story, just without the prince here. This is good, that means this is on track. Although I gotta say- I was much more on the female main characters side when reading it. Now, I just feel like she’s one of those mean girls in high school who’s not *technically* doing anything mean. Anyways- what was I supposed to say? That’s right.

“Yes…. Well. I’m sure we won’t be seeing much of each other anyways. If you’ll excuse me-“

Nailed ittttt…. Now her line?

“Well, actually…. My name is Lady Cressida, and I’ll be staying in the place for several months as my father is a foreign ambassador overseeing trade agreements with his highness the king. So I imagine we will be seeing *plenty* of each other. That goes for you too your highness! So please- forgive me, I look forward to getting to know each of you better!”

Oh that’s so cool, seeing her recite the lines from the story. But ok- I have a role to play as well. I scoff and grab Eric’s arm, pulling him behind me as I storm off, playing the part of entitled lover, stuck up and irritated at this ambassadors daughter who DARED to speak to my love.

Yea, this will work, Eric will think Cressida is a genuine sweetie, and see me as being the unreasonable bitch who’s refusing to accept her apology, or apologize for not looking where I was going either. And now I’m manhandling him- totally unlady like. God I’m killing this aren’t I? Minimum wage job and demanding cat, here I come!

What I don’t see, as I lead Eric by the arm, is the cold glare he shoots towards Cressida, before smiling down at our connected hands, an unreadable look in his eyes.

Part 2

SERIES IS DISCONTINUED- sorry y’all, just not inspired to write this anymore and don’t wanna force it.

[requiemforthepoets]

the story we won’t tell is my greatest fantasy ⟢ LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: seven years. you and lando had been together for seven years, but it all went down the drain the moment he decided to come clean about the mistake that he did.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, breakup, cheating, cheater lando, pregnancy, secret child, mentions of nausea and vomiting, fainting, angst, open ending, math is not mathing (but i tried), some inaccuracies, named side characters (except for the reader), single!mom reader, and minor typographical errors

WORD COUNT: 7.2k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this fic is inspired by niki’s song ‘apartment we won’t share,’ ik that we have diff interpretations for the songs, but i interpret it as the way how i wrote this fic. i’m not planning on doing a second part of this, and just leave it an open ending. but if someday i get inspired, i’ll try and make a part 2 for this, though for now, there will be no part 2 for this fic. i will be leaving the ending all up to you. you comments/reblogs is highly appreciated, and i hope that you’ll enjoy this one.

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It had been a long and exhausting week. The lingering ache from your family emergency still tugged at your heart, so to keep off your mind from things, you had spent most of the day sorting through Lando’s things, folding clothes and making sure his suitcase was ready for his flight to another race weekend. It was the kind of task you had done so many times in the last seven years, but this time, it felt heavier, like there was something wrong that you couldn’t quite place.

When Lando returned to Monaco a few days later, you expected him to be his usual vibrant self, but something was off with him. Lando’s eyes seemed heavier, his posture slouched, and smile lacked the spark that you were used to.

“Hey, can we talk for a second?” he asked, voice unusually subdued.

You set down the shirt you had been folding, brows furrowing. “Sure, of course,” you replied, taking a seat on the couch. “What’s on your mind?”

Lando hesitated, hands fidgeting with the edge of his hoodie. He sat across from you, knees bouncing slightly as he stared at the floor. “You know I love you, right? More than anything.”

A faint smile crossed your lips. “I know, Lan, and you made sure to let me know everyday for seven years.”

He looked up briefly, gaze fleeting before dropping back to the floor. “I need to tell you something, I wanted to be completely honest with you…and it’s probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Lando’s tone, demeanor—it was all wrong, and you were getting really nervous by now. “What is it?” you asked, voice quiet, wary.

Lando took a deep breath, his hands now gripping his knees as if to ground himself. “When I was out for a night with the guys a month ago…I messed up.”

Your stomach churned. You didn’t want to interrupt him, waiting for Lando to continue, though every fiber of your being wanted to scream at him, to demand some answers.

“There was…someone at the club that night,” he said, words slow and measured, like he was forcing them out of him. “It was stupid, an honest mistake. I was so drunk, caught up in everything, and I wasn’t thinking.”

You felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. “W-What are you saying?” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.

Lando finally looked at you, eyes glistening. “I accidentally slept with her. It was a one-time thing, I swear, then she called me last week—I don’t even know how she got my number, but she told me that she’s pregnant.

Pregnant.

The words hit you like a freight train. You stared at him, mind completely blank, unable to process what he had just said. Tears began to blur your vision, but you didn’t wipe them away.

“Lando…” you tried to speak up, but your voice cracked.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he said, voice shaking. “I didn’t know what to do. All I could think about was how much I’ve hurt you. But I can’t let my kid grow up without a family. I know how much family means to you, to me. I have to be there for them.”

Your heart shattered into pieces. You could see how much Lando was struggling, the guilt etched into every line of his face. But the pain of his betrayal was unbearable.

“I don’t…I don’t have anything to say anymore, honestly,” you said finally, voice trembling. “Because you had already made your decision—you’re choosing them.”

Lando shook his head vehemently. “No! No, I’m not choosing anyone over you. You’re the love of my life. That hasn’t changed and never will.”

“Lando, you can’t have both,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t stay here knowing all of these. I can’t be a part of this.”

He reached out as if to touch you, but you recoiled. You couldn’t bear his touch right now. “Please love,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I love you. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“You already have,” you said softly, standing up and wiping your tears. “I won’t hold you back, Lando. You need to do what’s right for your child. They deserve a family, and I will not be the reason why they don’t have one.”

You walked to your shared bedroom, your movements mechanical as you began packing your things. Every item you placed in your suitcase felt like a dagger to your chest. This apartment had been your home, your safe haven, and now it was just a place you needed to escape from. Lando just stood in the doorway, watching you pack all of your things, his face pale and tear-streaked. He didn’t try to stop you—he knew that he couldn’t.

When you zipped up your suitcase and grabbed your bag, you turned to him one last time. “Take care of both of them,” you said, voice barely audible. “Be the father they need.

With that, you walked out of the apartment, out of the life you and Lando had built together. You had loved him for seven years, trusted him with every piece of your heart. But now, all you had was the emptiness of what could have been.

The crisp night air bit at your skin as you stood by the entrance of the apartment building, clutching the handle of your suitcase. Your ride to the airport was just a few minutes away, but the wait felt eternal. You stared blankly at the sidewalk, mind is a chaotic mess, the weight of everything that had happened tonight pressing heavily on your chest.

You heard familiar voices approaching before you saw them, their cheerful tones instantly recognizable. Quickly, you wiped at your cheeks, hoping your red-rimmed eyes wouldn’t give you away. Plastering on a smile, you turned towards Max and Kelly as they walked towards the entrance, hand in hand, their expressions bright despite the late hour.

“Hey! What are you doing out here so late?” Kelly asked, brows knitting in concern as she noticed the two large suitcases beside you.

You hesitated, forcing your smile to stay in place. “I, uh, have a family emergency,” you lied smoothly, voice steady even though your heart was pounding. “I need to head back home for a bit.”

Max tilted his head slightly, sharp blue eyes scanning you with the protective gaze you had come to know so well over the years. “Two large suitcases for just a quick trip? That seems a bit much,” he remarked lightly, though his tone carried a hint of suspicion.

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “It’s just…really complicated right now. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, so I packed extra, just in case.”

Kelly’s hand tightened on Max’s arm as she stepped closer to you, her concern evident. “Is Lando not home right now? Why didn’t you tell us earlier? We could’ve helped you pack, we can drive you to the airport.”

You shook your head quickly. “Lan’s already sleeping and I hate to wake him up, he just recently got back from his trip. I also didn’t want to bother you, I’ve already called a car, and it should be here any minute.”

They exchanged a look, clearly unconvinced but respectful enough not to press you further. “Well, we’re not leaving you out here alone,” Max said firmly. “We’ll wait with you until your ride gets here.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the determined set of his jaw told you it would all be just pointless. Instead, you nodded, grateful for their presence even as it made it harder to hold yourself together.

Kelly gave you a warm smile, trying to ease the tension. “It’s late, but P was asking about you earlier,” she said softly. “She’s been begging to have another day with her favorite Auntie.”

Your heart clenched at the mention of Penelope, and you forced your smile to widen. “I’ll miss her so much,” you said, voice thick despite your best efforts. “Tell her I’ll see her soon.”

Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly at your words, but before she could say anything, your ride had pulled up to the curb. Relief and dread washed over you in equal measure. Max then stepped forward immediately, grabbing your suitcases with ease.

“I’ll load these up for you,” he said, tone gruff but kind.

“Thank you,” you murmured, watching as he placed your suitcases in the trunk of the car.

When Max turned back, Kelly pulled you into a tight hug, her familiar perfume bringing a rush of bittersweet comfort. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she whispered. “Whatever’s going on, we’re here for you.”

You nodded against her shoulder, your throat too tight to respond. When she pulled away, Max had stepped forward, wrapping you in a hug that was strong and protective, just like he always was.

“Be back soon, okay? P will be missing her favorite Aunt.” he said, chuckling. “If you need anything, you call me or Kelly. No excuses.”

“I will,” you promised, though you knew that you wouldn’t.

As you stepped back, Kelly offered you a gentle smile. “When you get back, P will be so excited to see you again. You know how much she loves spending time with you.”

The lump in your throat grew, and you could only nod in response. You managed a faint smile as you climbed into the car, giving them one final wave.

“Safe travels,” Kelly called out as Max closed the door for you.

You watched them through the window, standing together on the curb, their figures illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. They waved as the car pulled away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wave back again. Instead, you turned your gaze forward, the city lights blurring through the tears that silently slid down your cheeks.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

When you finally arrived back home, the weight of the long hour of flight clung to you like a heavy fog. You dragged your suitcases through the familiar front door, exhaustion etched into every inch of your body. The warm, welcoming scent of your childhood home did little to comfort you, instead, it only amplified the ache in your chest. All you wanted was to collapse into your bed and wake up to a world where none of this had ever happened—a world where your heart wasn’t shattered into pieces. But this was your reality, as cruel as it was.

You definitely hadn’t anticipated seeing your older sister, Noelle, and her husband, Mike, in the living room, seated across from your mother, their laughter filling the space. The sound abruptly stopped when they noticed you standing in the doorway, your pale face and tired eyes a huge giveaway of the turmoil you tried so desperately to hide.

“What are you doing here?” Noelle asked, rising from her seatc brows knitting together in concern. “You didn’t tell us that you were coming home.”

Noelle’s brows knit together as she took in your disheveled appearance, her sharp eyes catching every detail—dark circles under your eyes, stiffness in your movements, and the forced smile you mustered.

“Yeah,” you replied quietly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I, uh, needed to come home for a bit.”

Your mother rose from her seat as well, concern etched into her features. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, gaze darting between you and the suitcases you had left by the door.

You hesitated, throat tightening. You had been dreading this moment, knowing full well how much your family adored Lando so much. They had welcomed him with open arms from the start, treating him as one of their own. Now, you were about to break their hearts almost as much as he had broken yours.

“It’s nothing,” you said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I just needed a change of scenery, that’s all.”

Noelle stood, arms crossed as she gave you a pointed look. “Don’t give me that kind of excuse. You don’t just show up unannounced looking like this for no reason. What really happened?”

You swallowed hard, avoiding Noelle’s gaze. “Lando and I broke up,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The whole room fell silent, the weight of your words sinking in. Your mother’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide with shock. “Oh, my darling sweetheart,” she breathed.

Noelle, however, was not so subdued. “What?” she exclaimed, voice rising. “What do you mean you broke up? What happened? Did he do something stupid?”

“No!” you said quickly, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” she pressed, tone sharp.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “We just…fell out of love. The both of us,” you said, hating the words even as you said then. “We’ve been together for so long, and I guess we just realized that we weren’t the same people years ago anymore. It didn’t make sense to keep on pretending, we’ll just end up hurting ourselves in the long run.”

Noelle’s eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. “That doesn’t sound like Lando at all. The man adores you so much, even worships the ground you walk on.”

“He did,” you said softly, chest tightening. “And I adored him too. But people change, feelings change.”

Your mother stepped closer, her hands reaching for yours. “Are you sure this is what you wanted?” she asked gently.

You nodded, the lump in your throat growing. “It’s for the best,” you lied, voice cracking slightly.

Mike, who had been silent until now, placed a hand on Noelle’s shoulder. “If this is what she’s decided, we should respect it,” he said quietly, giving you a small, understanding nod.

Noelle just sighed, clearly torn between pressing you for further information and letting it go. Finally, she relented, though her expression was still skeptical.

“I just don’t want you to regret this,” she said, voice more softer now. “You two were so good together.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep you from breaking down. “I’ll be okay, eventually,” you said, words hollow.

Your mother pulled you into a tight embrace, her warmth briefly soothing the ache in your chest. “Whatever happens, we’re always here for you,” she murmured.

“Thanks, mommy,” you whispered, blinking back tears.

As you pulled away, your sister gave you a long look, her expression unreadable. “If he hurt you—” she started, but you cut her off.

“He didn’t,” you said firmly, voice steady despite the storm inside you. “It just didn’t work out. That’s all.”

Noelle still didn’t look convinced, but she nodded, clearly sensing that there’s more to it, and you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Alright,” she said quietly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here, okay? We’re all here.”

You gave her a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes like it used to. “Thank you,” you said, words barely audible.

Excusing yourself, you retreated to your old bedroom, closing the door behind you gently and sinking onto the comfort of your bed. The familiar surroundings brought no comfort, only a stark reminder of the life you had left behind. While you lay down, staring at the ceiling, the tears finally came, silent and unrelenting.

You had still protected Lando from your family’s anger, even though he did not deserve any of it, and now, you were left to pick up the pieces alone.

The Nausea hits you like clockwork every morning. You found yourself rushing to the bathroom, stomach twisting in protest against seemingly nothing. It had started a few weeks ago, and though you had initially dismissed it as a lingering flu or perhaps the stress with work finally catching up to you, it was becoming harder to ignore. Rest didn’t seem to help you, but you assured yourself that it wasn’t that serious. Besides, you have work to focus on, and that was enough to keep your mind occupied, most of the time.

Two months had already passed since you had left Monaco for good, and life had begun to settle into a new rhythm. Yes, the ache in your chest was still there, but it had been dulled into something manageable. You were slowly rebuilding yourself, piece by piece, though the nausea was an unwelcome distraction.

It was a normal afternoon, while you were curled up on the beanbag chair in your bedroom after a long and tiring day, your phone buzzed. The caller ID that was displayed on the screen made your breath catch for a moment—Kelly. You hesitated before answering, already bracing yourself for the conversation. Her face appeared on the screen, bright and concerned.

“Finally, I caught you!” she said with a smile, though her tone was tinged with worry. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

You shook your head, chuckling and offered her a small smile. “I’m so sorry, Kelly. Things have been so busy with me lately.”

Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly as she studied your face. “You look tired. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, it’s just a silly flu,” you said quickly, but the faint edge in your voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said gently. “Max and I found out about it already, about you and Lando.”

Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked, expression softening. “We would’ve been there for you. You’ve been through this all alone.”

You sighed, your shoulders sagging. “I didn’t want to drag anyone else into the mess, and I didn’t even know what to say.”

Kelly’s voice grew firmer. “You didn’t have to say anything, we would’ve understood. Max is furious with Lando, you know. So is Carlos. I even have to break the two of them away from Lando.”

Your heart sank at the thought. “Please don’t be mad at him. It’s not worth it.”

Kelly shook her head, lips pressing into a thin line. “It is worth it. What Lando did to you was unforgivable. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow. “I’ll move on, eventually.”

Kelly’s expression softened again, and she leaned closer to the camera. “I just wish you’d let us help you. You know we love you, right? You’ve always been family to us.”

“I know,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes.

Her face brightened slightly. “But speaking of family, someone’s been dying to talk to you!”

Before you could respond, the screen shifted, and Penelope’s little face appeared, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “AUNTIE!” she exclaimed, voice high with excitement.

”Hi, P!” You said, heart aching at the sight of her.

“I miss you so much!” she said, pouting slightly. “When are you coming back? Mommy says you’re not in Monaco anymore.”

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain. “I miss you too, darling. I just…I had to be somewhere else for a while.”

“But you’ll come back, right?” she asked, her big eyes staring at you expectantly.

You swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “We’ll see, P. For now, you have to be good for your mommy and Maxie, okay?”

“I’m always good!” she declared, puffing out her chest.

Kelly’s voice chimed in from the background. “That’s debatable,” she teased, earning a giggle from Penelope.

You couldn’t help but smile, even as your chest tightened. “You’re the best, P. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Okay!” she said brightly before turning to Kelly. “Mommy, can we call Auntie again tomorrow?”

Kelly returned to the screen, giving you a knowing look. “We’ll let her rest for now, P. But yes, we’ll call Auntie again soon.”

“Promise?” Penelope asked, her eyes wide.

“Promise,” Kelly said, smiling before turning back to you. “Take care of yourself, okay? And if you need anything, anything, just call me.”

You nodded. “Thank you so much, Kelly. I will.”

After ending your facetime call with Kelly, you stumbled into the bathroom, your stomach churning violently. The moment you stepped inside, you collapsed in front of the toilet, heaving uncontrollably. It felt as though your insides were twisting, every muscle tensing in protest. When it finally subsided, you shakily wiped your mouth, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked pale—paler than usual, and eyes were bloodshot from the strain.

It took you a couple of minutes to compose yourself before heading to the kitchen, hoping the water would help settle your spinning head. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, you poured the water, but as you lifted it to your lips, another wave of dizziness hit you. This time, it was stronger. Your grip faltered, and the glass slipped from your hand, shattering loudly as it hit the floor.

The sharp noise brought Noelle and Mike running into the kitchen. They froze when they saw you swaying on your feet, barely managing to stay upright. You blinked, trying to focus, but everything around you was growing hazier. Before you could say anything, your legs gave way beneath you, and you crumpled to the floor, your vision blackening as you began to lose consciousness. Noelle was by your side in an instant, her hands gentle but urgent as she checked your pulse.

“Don’t worry, she’s alive,” Noelle muttered, voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. “Mike, call an ambulance now!”

Mike didn’t hesitate, rushing to grab his phone and calling for help. You could hear Mike’s voice in the background, muffled and frantic as he spoke to the operator.

“Yes, we need an ambulance,” Mike said, tone clipped, almost too calm for the situation. “My sister-in-law collapsed, and we need help immediately.”

Noelle’s voice cut through your haze, trying to keep you steady. “Come on, stay with me, okay? Just hold on.”

You couldn’t respond, couldn’t even make a sound, but you could hear them both, voices blending with the rush of adrenaline in the air. Mike’s footsteps moved swiftly, his voice growing more distant as he spoke with the ambulance on the phone.

The minutes that followed felt like hours. The sound of the ambulance siren grew louder, and relief flooded Noelle’s face as the paramedics rushed into the house. They quickly assessed the situation, asking Noelle questions about your symptoms and recent health conditions.

“She’s been experiencing dizziness for weeks now,” Noelle explained. “She’s stubborn, didn’t want to see a doctor. This morning she was nauseous, and now she’s fainted.”

The paramedics nodded, lifting you onto the stretcher carefully. Noelle and Mike followed closely as they carried you out to the ambulance. “I’m coming with her to the hospital,” Noelle said firmly, climbing into the back of the ambulance without hesitation.

Mike stayed behind, watching the ambulance doors close with a worried expression. “Alright, I’ll be informing your mother when she arrives, but call me as soon as you know something,” he said to Noelle before they drove off.

Inside the ambulance, Noelle held your hand tightly, her fingers trembling against your own. “You’re going to be fine,” she said, though her voice was thick with concern. “Just breathe, okay? We’re almost there.”

You couldn’t focus on what Noelle was saying. The world had gone dark around you, only the pulse of your own heartbeat reminding you that you were still there, still fighting to stay conscious.

The steady beeping of the machines was the first thing you registered as you slowly opened your eyes, the sterile smell of the hospital room making everything feel surreal. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent light, your gaze landed on your sister, Noelle, sitting in one of the chairs beside your bed, her expression a mixture of worry and relief when she noticed you stirring.

“Noelle,” you croaked, voice hoarse from sleep and dryness.

She shot up almost instantly, coming to your side and helping you adjust into a sitting position in the hospital bed. Her hands were gentle but firm as she propped a pillow behind your back.

“Hey, take it easy, okay?” she said softly. She reached for a bottle of water on the bedside table, unscrewing the cap before handing it to you. “Here, drink up. Small sips.”

You followed her instructions, taking slow, careful sips, the cool water soothing your parched throat. “What happened? Why am I in the hospital?” you asked weakly, mind still foggy.

“You fainted in the kitchen,” Noelle explained, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You scared the hell out of us. Mike called the ambulance, and I came with you here. Mom and Mike are both on their way. They’ll be here soon.”

Before you could respond, there was a knock at the door, a doctor entered, her expression professional but kind. Noelle immediately stepped aside, letting her approach you.

“I’m glad that you’re awake now, my dear,” she began, smiling at you. “We’ve run some tests to determine the cause of your fainting and other symptoms.”

You nodded slowly, stomach churning with apprehension. Noelle moved closer to your side, her presence grounding you.

“We’ve reviewed your results,” she continued, glancing at her clipboard before meeting your eyes. “The dizziness, nausea, and vomiting you’ve been experiencing for the past weeks are all consistent with early pregnancy symptoms. Congratulations, you’re seven weeks pregnant!”

Pregnant. Pregnant.

For a moment, the words did not register. The hospital room seemed to grow impossibly still, the doctor’s voice fading into the background as you processed the news. Seven weeks. The timeline clicked into place, and your heart sank as realization hit. Seven weeks pregnant. You could hear the faint ringing in your ears, a sharp contrast to the quiet gasp from Noelle beside you.

“I…I’m sorry, what?” you managed to stammer, voice shaking.

“You’re pregnant, dear,” the doctor repeated gently. “Seven weeks along. Your vitals look good, but it’s important to start prenatal care as soon as possible. We’ve referred you to an OB-GYN who will guide you through the process and answer any questions you might have.”

You nodded numbly, unable to form any coherent response. The doctor continued to explain what you should expect in the coming weeks—dietary recommendations, plenty of rest, and the importance of regular check-ups. But her words felt very distant, as if you were hearing them through a fog.

When the doctor finally left, you were left staring blankly at the sterile white wall, the weight of the revelation crushing you. Seven weeks. You did the math in your head, mind racing. By now, you know that the woman Lando had gotten pregnant would be around three months into pregnancy.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, the enormity of the situation was starting to overwhelm you. You were carrying Lando’s child. That man had broken and shattered your heart into pieces, and who had chosen someone else, was now bound to you in a way that you could not escape.

“Noelle,” you whispered, voice breaking.

She knelt beside the bed, taking your trembling hands in hers. “I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m here, okay?” she said softly, her tone steady and reassuring.

“I don’t know what to do,” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. How am I supposed to handle this?”

Noelle’s grip on your hands tightened slightly, eyes full of concern. “I don’t have all the answers,” she admitted, “but you don’t have to go through this alone. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be here for you—Mom and Mike, too. We’ll all figure this out together, okay?”

Two years had already passed, and your life was a world away from where it had been. Astrid, your little ray of sunshine, was turning two today. She was the center of your universe, your whole life, her giggles filling every corner of the house you had worked so hard to call your own. It was a beautiful home, just three doors away from your mother’s home, ensuring that Astrid was always surrounded by the love and warmth of your family.

Noelle and Mike, ever the doting aunt and uncle, spoiled her endlessly. They brought over toys, books, and clothes—sometimes more than you thought Astrid needed, but you couldn’t deny the happiness on Astrid’s face when they arrived with surprise in hand.

It’s true that your pregnancy and the early days of motherhood had not been easy, but you were able to survive. More than that, you thrived. With a promotion to a top position at work and a comfortable life for you and Astrid, you finally felt at peace. The past—Lando, was no longer a wound, but now a distant memory you had learned to accept. Your family also had long stopped asking questions about the details of your breakup, and while they knew Lando was Astrid’s father, they never dwelled on it. Astrid had all the love she needed, and that was what mattered most.

But there was one part of your life you had not reconciled yet—Max and Kelly. Despite keeping in touch with Kelly through regular facetime calls, you had managed to keep Astrid a secret. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them, it was just too complicated to explain everything. It was already enough that they found out what Lando had done that caused your breakup.

However, when Kelly had mentioned that they would be spending their vacation in your home country and would be arriving the day before Astrid’s second birthday, you had a window of opportunity. It was time to take a step forward. So you had invited them to what you described as a simple gathering at your home. You didn’t explicitly tell them that it would be Astrid’s birthday party—just that it would be a chance to catch up and spend time together.

As the day drew closer, you found yourself torn between excitement and anxiety. What would they say when they realized the gathering that you had talked about was actually a celebration for your daughter? Would they feel hurt that you had kept Astrid a secret for so long?

These thoughts lingered as you finalized the decorations, baked Astrid’s favorite cake, and prepared the house for your guests. But when you looked at Astrid, happily playing with her toys in the living room, the doubt began to fade. This was your life now—a life filled with love and laughter, even if it was different from what you had once imagined.

The backyard was a colorful dream, adorned with streamers, balloons, and a banner that read, Happy 2nd Birthday! and Astrid’s favorite colors painted every corner of the space, and the laughter of children filled the air as they played games and ran around laughing. Astrid herself was the picture of happiness, twirling in her pretty dress, a bright smile on her face as she clung to her grandmother’s hand.

You excused yourself from the backyard, your hands brushing against your dress nervously as you stepped back into the kitchen to double-check the desserts. Rows of cupcakes sat neatly on the counter, each one topped with swirls of frosting and sprinkles. You picked one up, turning it slightly to make sure everything was perfect. Then the doorbell rang.

Your heart skipped a beat, a wave of nerves rushing through you. It had to be Max, Kelly, and Penelope. You wiped your hands on a towel, took a deep breath, and walked to the front door, steadying yourself before opening it. The moment you opened the door, cheerful shouts of ‘surprise!’ had greeted you. Kelly was the first to throw her arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug.

“It’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, stepping back as Max swooped in for a hug.

“You’ve been hiding!” Max teased lightly, squeezing your shoulder before stepping aside to let Penelope in.

“Hi Auntie!” Penelope chirped, small arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she hugged you with all her might.

You bent down to her level, pulling her into a proper hug. “Hi, darling. I missed you so much!”

Penelope pulled back, her face beaming. “I missed you too, Auntie! Can I see your house?”

Before you could respond, the sound of children’s laughter drifted in from the backyard, catching their attention. Kelly tilted her head curiously.

“What’s going on back there?” she asked, brows furrowed. “That sounds like a lot of kids.”

Max glanced at you, an eyebrow raised. “Is this the simple gathering you mentioned?”

A nervous smile tugged at your lips as you stepped back, gesturing for them to follow. “Come on, follow me.”

You led them through the hallway and out through the glass doors that lead to the backyard, where the yard was buzzing with activity. Children were playing games, some of them are having the time of their life on the bouncy castle, parents chatted near the tables of food, and Astrid was in the middle of it all, her laughter carrying above the noise.

Penelope gasped in delight. “Can I please go play?” she asked, bouncing on her toes as she looked up at Max and Kelly.

Kelly nodded with a smile. “Of course, go ahead.”

Penelope dashed off, her excitement blending seamlessly with the other children. Kelly and Max, however, stood frozen, their eyes scanning the scene. It wasn’t long before they realized that this was not just any gathering.

“Is this…” Kelly began, voice trailing off.

“A birthday party?” Max finished for her, tone laced with confusion.

You nodded slowly, your smile nervous. “Yes. Actually,” you glanced at Astrid, who was now in your mother’s arms, laughing as your mother tickled her sides. “It’s her birthday party.”

Their confusion deepened as they followed your gaze. Max opened his mouth to speak, but Kelly beat him to it. “Her?” she asked, voice soft, almost uncertain.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over to your mother and gently took Astrid from her arms. Astrid immediately snuggled into your shoulder, her tiny hands clutching at your dress as she peeked at the newcomers. Turning back to Max and Kelly, you smiled, though your heart was racing.

“Guys, this is Astrid,” you said softly. “My daughter.”

For a moment, there was only silence as Max and Kelly processed your words. Kelly’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide, while Max stared at you, his expression a mix of shock and something deeper.

“You have a daughter?” Kelly finally asked, voice trembling slightly.

You nodded, holding Astrid a little tighter. “I do.”

Max’s voice was careful, almost cautious. “Where’s her father?”

The question hung heavy in the air, heavy and unspoken truths lingering just beneath the surface. You looked down at Astrid, avoiding Max’s gaze as you shifted your weight uncomfortably.

“He’s…not in the picture anymore,” you said quietly.

Max’s eyes narrowed slightly, jaw tightening. It was clear he had pieced everything together, but decided not to press further. Instead, his gaze softened as he looked at Astrid, who was now peering curiously at him. Kelly stepped forward, her initial shock melting into warmth.

“Can I hold her?” she asked gently.

You nodded, carefully handing Astrid over. Kelly cradled her as if she had been waiting for this moment forever, her face lighting up as Astrid stared at her with wide, curious eyes.

“She’s so beautiful,” Kelly murmured, voice thick with emotion.

Max crouched down slightly to Astrid’s level, his serious expression softening. “Hey there, little one,” he said, playfully covering his eyes with his hands and then revealing them. “Peekaboo!”

Astrid blinked at him, tiny lips began curling into a smile as Max covered his face with his hand again and revealed it with a loud ‘boo!’ Astrid’s laughter was immediate and infectious, filling the air and making Max grin wider.

“She likes you,” Kelly said with a laugh, glancing at Max as she bounced Astrid gently.

Max looked up, his expression a mix of amusement and something more tender. “What can I say? Kids love me.”

Penelope had run up to you with little Astrid in tow, face glowing with excitement. “Auntie, can Astrid play with me? I promise that I’ll take care of her,” she said, her little hands clasped together as she gave you the most earnest look.

You smiled, crouching down to their level. “Alright,” you said gently, brushing a strand of hair out of Astrid’s face. “But remember, she’s still very small, so be careful with her, okay?”

“I promise!” Penelope chirped. “Come on Astrid, let’s play!” she took Astrid’s hand and led her back towards the group of children.

Once they were settled, you turned to Max and Kelly, who were waiting nearby, their expressions a mix of curiosity and seriousness. You gestured towards the patio table, and the three of you moved to sit down. For a brief moment, there was an awkward silence, only broken by the distant sound of children laughing.

It was Max who spoke first. “So,” he began, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “are you going to tell Lando about Astrid?”

“No.” you said firmly, meeting his gaze.

Kelly’s brows furrowed. “No?” she repeated, voice a mix of confusion and concern. “You don’t plan on telling him that he has a daughter?”

“Telling him that he has a daughter is not included in my plans,” you said quietly, glancing briefly at Astrid, who was now sitting on the grass with Penelope, giggling as they played.

Max exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. “But why?” he asked, voice steady but tinged with disbelief. “Don’t you think he has the right to know?”

You looked at Max, expression calm but resolute. “He had already made his choice and I made mine,” you said softly. “By the time I found out that I was pregnant, he was already committed to building a life with someone else—for their child. I’m not that ignorant, I’ve seen the articles, Max. It’s clear as daylight that he’s happy with them, he’s being the father that the child needs.”

Max sighed. “This isn’t about the articles or public perception. It’s about Astrid. She has the right to know who her father is, and Lando has a right to know about her.”

Kelly nodded in agreement with what had Max just said. “And what happens when she grows up and starts asking questions?”

“I’ll tell Astrid,” you said. “I’ll tell her when the time is right, I’ll explain everything to her. But for now, I’m protecting her. I don’t want her to feel like she was a second thought or an obligation. I don’t want to make her feel unwanted.”

Max shook his head slightly. “It’s not fair to Astrid, or to Lando,” he said, voice low. “He deserves to know. He deserves the chance to be a part of her life.”

“And what if Lando doesn’t want to be a part of her life, Max?” you said, voice cracking slightly and gripping the edge of the table. “What if yes, I ended up telling him, and he rejected her? What if I ruin the good thing he has now, for nothing? I’m not going to be the person who will bring chaos to my daughter’s life by trying to force something that might not even work, and I most definitely won't be the one who will tear Lando’s life apart just to ease my conscience.”

Kelly reached out, placing a hand gently on yours. “I understand that you’re scared,” she said softly. “And I understand why you’ve made your choice. But you don’t have to do this alone. Whatever you decide, we’ll support you. But please, just think about it, okay?”

You nodded, though you knew that your decision was firm and wouldn’t change. “Thank you,” you said quietly, looking between Max and Kelly. “I just need you both to trust me on this one. Trust that I’m doing what’s best for Astrid.”

Max hesitated, then finally nodded. “We’ll be keeping this just between the three of us,” he said, though there was a note of reluctance in his voice. “But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find us.”

Kelly smiled faintly, her grip on your hand tightening briefly before she let go. “Astrid is lucky to have you as her mother,” she said, voice warm. “She’s amazing and gorgeous, you know. She’s already so full of life.”

You smiled softly at Kelly’s words. “She is,” you said. “She really is.”

Glancing back towards the yard, you watched Astrid and Penelope play together, the sound of Astrid’s uncontrollable laughter filled the air, warming your heart in a way that words could never even describe. Her happiness was infectious, an important reminder of everything good in your life despite the path it had taken to get where you are now. But as your eyes lingered on her, there was a familiar ache that settled deep in your chest.

You couldn’t deny it—Astrid’s features were very unmistakable. Her eyes, so full of wonder and innocence, were a mirror image of Lando’s. Every now and then, when she turned her head a certain way or smiled just so, it was like seeing a glimpse of Lando again. The resemblance was undeniable, and it only grew stronger as Astrid got older. It was a bittersweet reality you carried with you every day.

Yet, despite the pain that came with those reminders, you were happy. Truly, deeply happy. Astrid was surrounded by love—a love so abundant that it filled every corner of her little world. She didn’t need anything else, not when you, your whole family, and everyone who cherished her. That love was enough, it had to be enough.

Letting Lando go was not easy. It had taken every ounce of strength you had to accept that the life you once imagined with him was not meant to be. But you had done it, you had learned to let him go. You had made peace with the fact that you were not the one he chose, and the woman you would never be was the one who was not his.

Someday, you knew, the time might come when you were ready to tell Lando about Astrid, ready to introduce him to the child you both brought into this world. But that day was not today. For now, you would let him continue living the life he had chosen, with the person he had chosen. You wished him nothing but happiness, even if it wasn’t with you.

You also hoped that Lando would one day find everything he was searching for, that he would feel fulfilled and content in the life he was building. Even if it hurts, you wanted that for him, and while he was busy living that life, the daughter you both would not raise together would still be here—waiting for him, even if he didn’t know it yet.

The breakup, heartache, and the choices you made were not what you had wanted, but they were what you needed. Sometimes, it’s hard to accept the fact that love is not enough to keep two people together, and that’s okay. It didn’t make the love you once shared with Lando any less real.

But for now, everything else could wait.

[umbrella-show]

⋆.˚🃏 𝑰𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝑫𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒕 ⋆✮⋆˙

“Y/N, pookie, cutie patootie, I’m baaack!~

The first of multiple drafts about Shadow Milk cookie. (If I can finish the rest 🥲)

You grunted lowly as you forced yourself out of the comfort of your bed at the sound of loud knocking at your door. You silently listened to fin out if the insistent banging on your door was just your imagination. You grumpily groaned when you realized the knocking was, in fact, real. Standing from your bed you wearily stumbled towards the door. 

“Coming…” You yawned, hoping that the knocking would stop now that the cookie on the other side of your door knew you were awake. The knocking, however, became more persistent. You repeated that you were on your way, irritably stomping and quickening your pace. When you got to the door, you firmly gripped the doorknob and threw the door open in frustration. You expected the door to hit whoever was insistantly knocking, but you were only met with the cold breeze of the night and the stars.

Glancing around, you found no one. You huffed, chalked it up to an annoying prank, and were about to go back to bed. However, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted something on your door. A poster, fluttering gently in the breeze with an envelope taped to it. Your mind blanked as you stared at it in confusion. What kind of prank was this?

You stiffened when you recognized the Beast cookie, Shadow Milk cookie, was the one on the poster. ‘Invitation to Deceit’ was written on it, and a deep blue envelope hung beside it. You took a moment to look around again, completely awake now. Everything was normal. Nothing was out of the ordinary. You gently took the poster off your door, ripping the envelope off of it and cautiously went back inside of your house.

The envelope was a dark blue with writing in a black pen on the bottom right corner. Your name was spelt in cursive with small doodles of stars next to it. Shakily opening the envelope revealed a small ticket inside. The ticket had the same design as the poster, Shadow Milk cookie’s close up face grinning directly at you. On the back was some more writing.

‘See you soon, (Y/N) cookie,

Your favorite jester happily awaits your arrival~”

- From, you know who ;)

A terrible feeling of dread pooled in your stomach. You stared down at the note, rereading it over and over again. He’s back, you thought, your dough shaking at the realization. You needed to show this to Pure Vanilla cookie immediately. 

Shoving the ticket back in the envelope you rushed to leave your house. You threw a thick coat over your shoulder and ran out into the night, clutching the envelope in your hand tightly.

It was so funny, watching you run and hide to that pathetic Soul Jam thief. Silly-Vanilly can’t do anything to save you, for he is on his way to become the one and only~ It’s only a matter of time, Y/N cookie. I’ll relish at the sight of you drowning in deceit. I’ll see ya, sooner than you think, silly goose~