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ethereal555 · 2 months ago

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CAN I ?

jobe bellingham x black!reader

Jobe is determined to have his way with his girlfriend, who he hasn't seen in months.

NEHLEYAH'S POV

“Jobeeee ughhh” I drag, mustering as much resistance as I could.

His beautiful eyes were low with lust and pleading at me. Although the pleading didn’t stop at the eyes, no, but bled into the movements of his hands on the hem of my underwear tugging at the thin material.

There was an internal battle in my mind. On one hand I wanted nothing but to let the love of my life eat me to his heart's content. I ravished at the visuals of him sucking me, his tongue pressing into and exploring territory that was only his. My chest tightened with excitement as my mind proposed to me those sensations - so vivid - I could almost feel him spitting on me, fingering me and biting on me the way he usually would. Whew.

On the other hand lived the burning desire I felt to spend quality time with the love of my life. I knew that if this ensued, whatever Jobe was hinting at, it was going to end with both of us passed out waking up the next morning. Then boom, hours of quality time that you had both yearned over for months; gone.

You didn’t want the latter to happen and this soon translated in your body language. You'd missed him too much and had to leave the next morning so it was worthwhile to do something more bonding and productive. But his expression doesn’t change, your attempt to be stern with him wasn’t working. His mind was set. This determination would usually turn you on, but not tonight. Tonight, you were going to at least put your foot down with Jobe, and whatever would happen as a consequence would be pure fate.

“Mmhm, I said no. Come on”, you gesture towards the TV programme you’d both spent half an hour arguing about whether to watch or not. You don't give into his pleas, moaning and complaining. He was good at that, he’d prevail. In your own act of determination, you shimmy backwards inching towards the headboard of the bed, pulling your lower half away from his grip. But the 19 year old's grip stayed consistent, Jobe’s perfect teeth clenching with desperation. He wets his bottom lip with his long, pink, tong-

"OH MY!! FOCUS NEHLAYAH!!", you berate yourself internally.

“I don’t fucking care for the show, you know this. Let me take them off” He tugs more. You roll your eyes at his harsh way of speaking, something it took you ages to get used to. You were relieved to discover that this was how his whole family spoke toone another, and it wasn't personal.

Phew

You look towards the TV which was infrequently lighting up both your faces in the dark room. It was a Sunday afternoon in March; and so the weather in the UK had become delightful. However, your boyfriend had insisted on drawing the curtains - now you knew why!

The shadows this casted on Jobe’s face could make you break a sweat. Honestly. The Illuminating of his brown eyes whilst his eyelids had been shunned from the spotlight, gave Jobe’s eyes an increased amount of allure. And those damn cheekbones and jaw (you savour the memories of druken nights that popped in your head whilst you admired the horny man) they were perfect seats for your plump, brown and round bottom.

You moan internally, clenching your pussy at the vivid memory.

The Vampire Diaries was your greatest obsession of all time. You had definitely watched the whole series more than was necessary (and he had expressed this) but there were always new words, people and moments that stuck out from before which strengthened your love for the show.

The choice you made to look away from your boyfriend and towards the TV you think he translated to “Alright I give up. Jobe, do with me as you like” as he was now biting at the thin microfibre thong you had on, tilting his head back causing the material to be drawn away from your crotch. You gently push at his head, which was placed in between your legs, causing the wet hem of your panties to slap back onto your skin.

“Dog” you voice.

He scowled, like one, turning quickly to see the episode of TVD playing. You had to admit it was one of the boring episodes but they all counted for the plot to make sense.

“Look baby, Tyler is transforming into a werewolf now which always means something bad is going to happen, just you wait!”

He drops his head back down in defeat, turning away from the TV which was not providing him any entertainment. Both his arms were still resting on your upper thigh and hip area causing your legs to stay spread, in this growingly uncomfortable butterfly position. He inches forward, and places his chin a feather away from your covered pussy. His nose slightly tickling the tip your clitoris, he moves his head from side to side knowing exactly what he was going. The material of your panties were thin and so you knew he could feel and smell all that was going on - i.e the arousal that was coming from this action.

The slight friction caused you to kegel down there, an act of suppression to the rush of pleasure you had found so quickly.

“Ugh, Jobe, really?”

“You're proper testing my patience, Nehlayah. Do as I've asked.” He growls. “I need to eat you, baby.”

“And you’re testing mine” you laugh incredulously “Watch the episode.”

It probably seemed as though you didn’t want intimacy and this wasn’t the case. Quality time (in a non sensual way) was your love language and so seeing him decline the conscious efforts you were offering to make this possible made you a little upset.

Another reason you were hesitant was because of your body image issues. Recently, your eating disorder tendencies alongside your busy schedule had been taking a toll on you and your confidence. You weren’t liking your reflection and consequently, put off seeing Jobe until you got your mind and body right. This is the first time in 3 months you’d seen him in the flesh and so it all felt new again and you were still - despite thinking 3 months was enough time to get into the right shape - a tad bit insecure that he’d notice more fleshiness than usual or notice your face was puffier -

"Fuck sake"

Your somber thoughts had been abruptly cut off my Jobe's incessant attempts to fuck on you. The feeling of lust Jobe possessed had reached a point of no return. He harshly hooked his index finger around the hem of your thong, pulling them down fast until they were at your ankles. He had your lower half spread in all its glory, for him. Your cheeks heat up at how exposed you were now.

“You’re so stubborn! T—This is why we never spend quality time together!”

“Yeah, yeah — just keep them wide for me. Okay, pretty?”

He licks his lips, staring your pussy down in awe. His lashes flutter, almost imitating the butterflies in the bottom of your stomach. His warm breath you felt on your sex, caused goosebumps to run all down your arms and cheeks. In all honesty, the visuals alone made your pussy's heartbeat; you laying on the bed, head down on the backboard, your panties at your ankles with your boyfriend’s nose nudging at your clit.

“I — I just want to do something wholesome with you. I’ve missed you, so much Jay.”

“Mmmm And so do I, infact is that not what I’m doing right now - being wholesome with you?”

He places a kiss on your sex, his eyes fixed on you, daring you to contradict his statement.

I could feel his warmth breath fanning against my core, faster and faster and the immense sensation of anticipation this was giving me, singlehandedly diminished the strength of the argument brewing in my head.

“Whatever,Jobe.”

You closed your eyes, settling the case. It wasn’t like you were having to put any work in anyways. He lets out a belly chuckle which catches you offguard as quite frankly you can't think of anything remotely funny in this situation. Peering down and the boy, you are yet again greeted his gorgeous pearly whites before he asks, almost tauntingly,

"Can I starting you eating now?"

You let out a hefty exhale unable to fathom such nasty words said by such a seemingly innocent boy. Oh, what a fan would do to hear these words come of his mouth. You smile at the thought. Why on earth was he so persisitent on this day of all days? You nod, sinking onto the mattress.

“Can I hear you say it? You know I need you to use your words."

His soft voice demands, his warm coarse forefingers fondling with your, now, gushy labia. You bite your lips, wanting to suppress any desperate sound evoked - especially after being so insistent on no sexual doings.

“Yes. Eat me, Jobe.”

You knew what you were in for, your voice is now softer and more submissive as you toy with his curls. The rose tinted glasses that sex gave you was taking over your senses and so you found no point still objecting, it wasn't like you didn't want it, you'd just rather do other less tiring things instead.

Your fingers fondle with themselves, and your toes do the same, not knowing what to do with yourself when he starts working. His eyebrows furrow as he continues to explore, pressing into your hole with the ball of his thumb. He coats his fingers with his spit, starting to lightly swirl indistinguishable patterns against your initimate areasm your breathing patterns start to become erratic and dysfunctional.

You feel him get up for a second to find the TV remote and pause the Netflix show, one of your eyes shoot open to observe this. His right hand is still covered in your juices and he sucks them clean whilst turning the TV off with his left hand.

“Ewwwwwww, Jobe, not infront of me.”

“Grow up” he rebutted, turning back towards you. You had forgotten about his previous actions because you were too busy staring down the tent in his grey tech joggers.

“Damn” he says. He readjust his pants knowingly, a dirty smirk playing at his lips. “Wanna know what you taste like baby?”

You shake your head ferociously. You guys had shared many intimate moments, but you were still so new to things like that. Those were boundaries you had yet to cross; him telling you what you taste like, talking about how soft your pussy was, how tight you were, how loud you were. These were all things he had learnt to comment on with other woman in his past, older woman at that. You was only just getting comfortable with that.

He lays next to you on the bed. No longer assuming his position in between your legs. You felt some relief, thinking he’d finally gotten a hit and wanted to cuddle and talk into the night. But that short-lived relief was interrupted with him tapping your thighs, gesturing for you to do what you dreaded. Your legs close, almost instantly. “N—”

Don't get me wrong, it felt euphoric, like you had just conquered the world. It felt like home sat on Jobe's face, it was your territory to explore now that you had won it over but it became harder and harder to feel confident as you were gaining weight.

“Jobe! I don’t feel ready to do that again.” you resisted. He rolls his eyes, not caring for this times explanation or excuse. The stubborn fuck.

“Don’t roll your eyes, I don't feel comfortable in this position. It feels like I’m h-hurting you, so I can never enjoy-."

"- Nehlayah, stop being a baby. Come 'ere. Who are you? Fucking Lizzo — If it hurt me I wouldnt insist so much. Ok?”

And with one swift motion he hooks his arms around the back of your knees pulling you onto his bare chest. He leans up and kisses you planting dozens of kisses all over you cheeks. You push his face away, slamming his upperhalf back down to sink inbetween the pillows.

“I hate it when you t-talk to me like that.” You whisper meekly, pressing onto his chest with one finger, You weren't able to be as upset as you wanted to because his act of dominance sent a pulse straight to your lower half.

“Baby, I'm sorry, I just don't like to wait for what’s mine.”

You bite your lip and look up towards the ceiling, not wanting him to see how much his words and touch had affected you just now. He turned you on, because of him an inferno of lust was burning in your abdomen.

You steadily grind your pussy up and down his chest expressing how much you loved that from him, a small smile of satisfaction playing at your lips whilst your trembling hands steadied themsleves around his neck. In complete awe, he stares at your pussy and how she slid back and forth with ease leaving a trail of slick on his tan chest.

Jobe, knowing what time it was, wet his lips with his tongue and pulls at your thick thighs. You take the hint from him hoisting yourself up as he pulled you towards his face to be seated.

You squeal loudly as you feel his hot breath mingles with your inimate area, he (from your reaction) susses how reactive and sensitive you are and slaps your bum attempting to rile you up further - so that the freaky side he knew too well could present itself. In this moment, you were being far too conservative for his liking. He found humour in the fact that you were the same girl who would isolate your cheeks during reverse cowgirl just to turn him on. He knew you had it in you.

SLAP.

He does it again, in hopes of allowing you to fully embrace the experience. After drawing a harsh breath inwardly, you sink down onto his face, his lips and your pussy becoming one. This level of intimacy causes your low eyes to roll back involuntarily as your knees landing on the plush pillows either side of his head.

He winks at you, sloppily exploring your wet labia with his equally as wet tongue. There was no fold, no crevice left undeclared. It was embarrasing, the way in which he had you bellowing and shaking ontop of him.

"Mmhughhhh"

Feeling riled up by the pants and moans you were singing at the top of your lungs, his mouth latched onto your clit swrling his warm tongue around it and slurping fiercely. The hood of your clit was where you were most sensitive, and he knew this. As if you weren't shaking enough already, he decided to use the hard tip of his tongue to press repeatedly onto your clit. Your hips jolt forwards a bit, the pleasure too intense.

A dragged whimper leaves your mouth as your whole body trembles “Hmm, right there.”

The passionate actions performed by the boy underneath you meant your sweet moans became louder and louder whilst tiny prickly tears collect at the rim of your eyes. His pace only quickens, using as much pressure as possible. Soon, it starts to feel very tender down there and you realise you are no longer in control of anything when a familiar sensation takes your body hostage.

"Jobeeeughhh, I needd-"

“You need to grind, now”

He gruffs into your pussy cutting you off. Your swollen eyes widen and you're mouth stays agape, not really able to interpret what he was saying as his tongue was still moving eratically down there.

His impatience erupts and his hands move momentarily from your cheeks to your hips - manipulating your bottom half in a grinding motion so you'd imitate it. You begin to grind slowly onto his mouth, the friction of his hard tongue ever so often on your clit doing wonders to have your body convulsing with numerous jaw-dropping sensations. A rhythm that benefited you both was found, it made your clit pulsate and your bum clench. It was coming, your orgasm. You drag your fingers down the headboard, your teeth clenched with the lack of control you had when that familar feeling was taking over you. Against you will, ( as you had become increasingly sensitive) your hips moved against him faster, your body trying to reach the climax.

"HHHMMMMMMUGGGGHHHH", you scream as you release clutching onto the top of the headboard for stability. As you secrete your natural juices that acted as tokens your pleasure, he slurped along.

"It tastes like water, Lay"

Your first orgasm wasn't enough though, he was still in pursuit of something greater clearly, so when his tongue finds your hole and thrusts into it with conviction at an ungodly pace, you are not at all shocked. But your poor vagina is.

Taken aback by the suddent rush of newfound pleasure you grip onto his hair as your teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut. His tongue's thrust never slowing down and digging it you, in pursuit of your spot. This feeling, especially post climax, was more intense because with every interaction his mouth made with your sex it was followed with a small jump from you. It was like you were all of a sudden allergic to the feeling of achy pleasure.

Jobe was in euphoria and enjoying worshipping your body, you could tell as his eyes were closed - your moans and cries and pleas to “go mor—eee harder” being music to his ears that lulled him.

"You’re loving it aren’t ya?”

You squeal, humming in agreement. The length of his tongue goes deeper when he angles his chin upward. "Fuck Jobe I swear to-"

You shimmy forward slightly so your clit sat ontop of the tip of his big nose. Milking the pressure you swril your hips, gyrating, trusting that if you ever went too far he’d let you know. The trembling hands you had fly to your head, supporting yourself as you feel a more intimidating wave build up in your stomach. There it was, the crippling waves that possessed you the first time were back and this time the sensation between your legs are amplified. You feel so sore.

"J—Jobe I'm gon—naaa mmm squirt", the pornographic scream you released nearly sent him over the edge aswell. His deep groans in response does the job to send you over the edge that you'd been teetering on. He peers up at you and is greeted with a face that is contorted with pleasure, drool sliding down your chin. Lapping you up as you released onto his tongue, for the second time tonight.

He winks at you, “You’re doing so well”

He could tell by the pace you were grinding on him with becoming slower and slower that you were about to glide off his face, and fall into a deep restorative sleep. So with haste he inserts two fingers into your asshole, naturally making you jump. You scream, warm tears sliding down your warm cheeks. “JOBEEEEEEE.”

“You’re okay. You’re doing really well, my baby” he whispers.

He pumps his fingers into your second hole. Invading it, stabbing into it and digging. You were dripping. And his relentless tongue fucking in addition to this, had you going crazy. Dumfounded, that was the state of mind you were in, unable to fathom it was his tongue and fingers putting you through all this. You restorted to yelling that it was "too much", but this fell upon deaf ears. Additionally, you kept trying to get up off his face - although your numb thighs prevented this. Your mouth was failing you, unable to put together coherent words.

Your torso is outstretched and bent towards the ceiling, your chest rising at a rapid pace and with all the strength you could muster you try and ride his tongue, moving strategically up and down and round it slowly ignoring the burning sensation you felt when sinking back down on his wet tongue. A larger sensation than before in the pit of your stomach rises, your hands shake and clutch onto your boobs for dear life. Although your body and pussy is convulsing around his tongue; Jobe doesn't stop. His fingers deep in your asshole.

A lot of liquid gushes out this time, taking the life out of you. Your voice is sore and rapsy a product of all the screaming on this blessed Sunday afternoon.

“Jobe, I—I can’t. Pleas—eeeee stop!! It's startin to burnnn” You cry.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head whilst a guttural groans runs out of your mouth. He hums in response. From your blurred vision, what you could make out was your wetness dripping down his chin, forming bubbly droplets on his microbeard. His neck covered is your juices as well as his chest.

Your heart that was beating at the speed of lighting had started to slow down as you had settled down from your high. Your wet and spazzing pussy clenched around his tongue. Jobe lapped up your squirt, everylast bit, sucking your hole clean by puckering his lips around its small circumference and sucking. He takes his hands from your asshole, popping them in his mouth teasingly. All these actions were a testimant to his freakiness. Seeing his adam’s apple moving up and down, further validated this.

You grimace “freak”

Written on your face is a look of disapproval, or maybe embarrassment and he picked up on this, excusing it as him missing you and how you tasted. His wide hands rubs up and down your back, consoling you. After sliding off of his chest you closely observe the juices from your pussy covered all around his mouth, chin and nose. Knackered, you lie face down on the bed, regaining your wits about you and reflecting over what had just happened to your poor body and mind. Your left hand move inbetween your legs and cups your pussy, consoling her as she was still spazzing.

You felt a hard smack on your ass. “Now was it all that bad, scaredy cat?”

You mumble in the pillow, a sheepish “No”. You turn to face him, not quite taking him seriously due to his appearance.

“It’s just a very intense feeling. Emotionally and physically. I never know how to deal with it especially afterwards, like I can't really kiss you. You also haven't cum so ..? I also hate being so loud..so.. yeah.. i dont know."

He reaches over, his light fingers tracing patterns on your skin. You see your juices still glistening in his face. "I did cum."

You laugh, "Swear down? You kept that quiet."

"No, you were just sooo loud." He sniggered loudly.

You slam your head back onto the pillow, hiding your face in embarrassment.

——————-

this was possibly the worst descripton of being ate out but i've been so busy. i wanted to give this to you guys, whilst you wait for the part 2 of CHEETAH .

i'd never neglect the freak heauxxx. xxx

WHICH WILL BE COMING. YES. DW.

#jude bellingham #jobe bellingham #football x reader #england #football #jobe bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fanfic #jobe bellingham x black!reader #jude bellingham x reader

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you-call-it-a-dude · 1 year ago

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Call It What You Want Pt. 5

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.6

Summary: it's thanksgiving break and you get to spend some time with Regina. She also meets your family, kinda. And she also comes out to her mom...kinda.

Pairings: Regina George x Fem/Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: internalized homophobia, mentions of sex, emotions and feelings

Notes: hi! So I know it's been a minute and I really appreciate everyone's patience and continued support with this story. Life just got ridiculous and this chapter is also slightly long lol. I have a bunch of requests that I am going to get started on with the intention of getting those out in the coming weeks. I think something I really struggle with is that I love writing longer stories which can put me behind and I think I need to start learning how to cut things short lol. But thank you so much again and I hope you enjoy.

-----

"Ugh, I don't want to go." Regina said, stomping around your room.

It was the morning of thanksgiving and Regina may have fibbed to her parents slightly. She told them her final day of classes was Wednesday and since she had a night class she would come out first thing Thursday morning to celebrate thanksgiving.

The fib, or well big fat lie, was that classes ended on Tuesday and Regina spent Tuesday afternoon through Thursday morning with you at your mom's house.

Your mom went to California to celebrate thanksgiving with your brother, so you both took advantage of the opportunity to have alone time in a space other than one of your dorm rooms.

It was really nice, honestly. You cooked dinner for her Tuesday night. She tried to help, but you both discovered that cooking possibly isn't something she was good at when she almost chopped her fingers off slicing bread for garlic bread.

She did provide plenty of support and some distractions through. Whispering flirty things in your ear and wrapping her arms around you while you cooked and plated your meals.

She did promise you that she can make really good breakfast. She ended up making you probably some of the best scrambled eggs you've ever had on Wednesday morning.

You spend Wednesday afternoon walking around downtown Chicago. Regina insisted on paying for Lyfts for the rest of the day because she just straight up refused to take the train downtown and you refused to drive because trying to find parking down there was a fucking hassle.

You looked at the lit up Christmas tree, took her to the water tower mall to shop, and then she treated you to lunch at this really nice place that you probably couldn't afford on a good day, but you still tried to pay her back anyway. She obviously refused.

You came back to your house and you showered together in your huge walk-in shower.

Which, arguably felt like one of the most intimate moments you've shared so far.

You both laughed and bickered your way through the shower. Someone was always hogging the water for too long, or spraying water in someone's face, and you judged the ridiculous amount of conditioner Regina used in her hair and she gave a long spiel about why that was the necessity amount for her.

But it was perfect because none of it was serious. It was all playful and lighthearted and it made you sad that you didn't have any idea of when you would be able to share another moment like this with her again.

You dried off after the shower, both walking around the house in some sort of state of undress. Regina only in your t-shirt and a pair of underwear and you in a pair of boxers and a tank top.

You watched her do her hair and skincare routine, asking her questions about her expensive products that you had never seen before in your life.

She was patient with you, answering all your questions about her stuff. After she finished, she made you sit on the bathroom counter. She pushed your hair back with one of her microfiber headbands, choosing one that had a bow on it and scrunching her nose up at you and calling you cute after she slipped it on you. She rubbed some of her $500 moisturizer on your face, massaging it into your skin and giving you sweet compliments. She finished off your little face massage with a quick kiss to your lips.

She cleaned her hands off and asked you if you felt any difference between your stuff and hers. You nodded, trying not to let on how fancy you felt with this stuff on your face.

You spent Wednesday evening cuddled up on the couch watching 2000s rom-com movies that she deemed absolutely necessary for you to watch.

You wouldn't tell her how much you enjoyed the movies though. You put up too much of a fight to admit you enjoyed them all.

Wednesday night after the movies was spent in your bed. It consisted of sloppy kisses, your head between Regina's legs, and her nails scraping across your back.

It was hot and sexy in the moment, but in her post orgasm clarity, she realized how badly she scratched you up when she saw bruises forming around the scratches and one of them was bleeding.

She swore loudly when she saw them, clearly torn between being concerned and turned on. She made you sit at the edge of your bed while she cleaned them, pressing soft kisses to your back while she did.

You didn't care that she marked you. You wanted people to know you were hers and you'd be happy to let her do it again. You kinda hoped that she would.

The following morning, Regina stomped around the room, packing her bags with an annoyed pout on her face and complaining about how much she didn't want to go back to her parents' house for the holiday.

"Well, you are always welcome to spend it with me. I'll be at my dad and step mom's." You offered.

She paused, thinking it over seriously.

"Ugh, no. I can't. My dad will get so mad." She threw one of your shirts into her bag and you shook your head at her blatant thievery.

"You can come for dessert? Maybe you can even come back here with me after...?" You suggest and she smirked.

"So what you're saying is, you'll need me to bring you back here and that I can't stay with my family? Oooh, maybe I can use you as an excuse."

"Sure, make them hate me before they even meet me." You tease, scrunching your nose at her.

"I'm just saying! I can tell them we travelled together and we need to travel back together."

"You know you're an adult, right?" You point out. "If you don't want to stay, you don't have to."

"It's more complicated than that." She rolled her eyes, catching an attitude with you now.

"Don't get grumpy with me." You say firmly with your eyebrows furrowed and somehow she manages to roll her eyes even harder at you. "Look, if you have to stay then stay. I get it. I'm just letting you know you're invited to my dad's and you're welcome to spend the rest of your break here with me. Okay? No need to get mad at me about it."

"Okay, yeah. Fine."

"Okay, yeah. Fine." You mock playfully, making a face at her and putting your hands on her hips.

"I fucking hate when you do that mocking shit. Grow up." She said, putting all her hygiene products in her bag and shifting her hips out of your grip.

"Good grief. Are you gonna get all closed off and homophobic on me now because you have to spend time with your family?" You say boldly, crossing your arms. She whips her head around to look at you, narrowing her eyes. You swallow thickly and ignore the tingling sensation that look sent between your thighs and focus more on the fact at how mad she looked right now. "S-sorry. I'm sorry. I was just joking, but I am now recognizing I shouldn't have said that." You say quickly, but sincerely.

You really needed to learn that some of your little jokey jokes that may bode over well with your gay friends, might hit a sore spot for your very much closeted girlfriend.

"No, I-you're right. I'm kind of just having a really hard time." She admitted, her tone softening.

"With what, baby?" I ask, brushing some hair behind her ear.

"I don't know. I want to talk about you to my family, you know? I feel like my mom would really like you. I want to tell her so bad, but I'm scared she'll tell my dad."

"You think she would do that?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.

"I don't know. Maybe? She's also just so bad at keeping other people's secrets."

"You don't think she'd keep this one for you? Or that she'd be happy you told her?"

"I don-" she just shrugs, looking up to most likely stop herself from crying. "Part of me thinks she'd be really cool about it. But it's that little sliver of doubt that makes me too scared to say anything."

"Well, if you aren't feeling it, you aren't feeling it. You don't have to come out to anyone if it doesn't feel right. I'm not rushing you." You pat her hip reassuringly and give her a playful pinch. "The offer I made earlier still stands. Dont feel pressured to take me up on it, but it's there if you want it. All you have to do is tell me, okay?"

She just nodded and continued packing her bag. You know she's upset and probably not in the mood for any bullshit, so you kiss her shoulder and walk out of your bedroom to give her some space for a few minutes.

You get a drink from the fridge, fighting the urge to eat something because it's basically against the law to eat anything on thanksgiving before the meal.

She stepped out of your room a few minutes later, her bag over her arm and her sunglasses on. You pout slightly. You knew she was leaving because she had to get ready at her house, but it didn't make you any less sad to see her go.

"Let me know when you get there, please?" You ask, stepping towards her and planting a soft kiss on her lips. She nods and leans in, pulling you in for a deeper one.

"I love you." She mumbles against your lips before deepening the kiss again. You smile against her lips and kiss her once more before pulling away.

"I love you, too." You take her bag from her shoulder and throw it over your own. "Let me walk you to your car."

---

You haven't heard from Regina in a few hours now. She let you know what she made it home and sent you a few provocative photos of her getting ready, but otherwise you haven't heard from her since then.

It was almost 4pm and you've been at your dad's for maybe an hour now. Your step-mom's family were also present and they were okay people, but you didn't really know them.

You also didn't know they were coming. Your dad pulled you aside when you came into the house and said it was very last minute and he was upset by it. Not your business, but go off, dad.

You snatched your little sister up from your step-mom and followed your little brother up to their playroom. Too many people you didn't know were asking about what you were doing with your life, who you were dating, what you were studying. You've met these people like four times total.

You released Zoe and let her crawl around with Levi. You sat on the floor against the wall and let them both bring you toys and random shit they wanted you to see or hold. You play wrestled, let them climb on top of you, all around earning big sibling points you hoped.

You took a selfie of you with Levi climbing on your shoulders and Zoe sitting on your lap. It was blurry and all three of you were smiling and laughing in the photo.

Levi requested to see the picture of course, like any curious toddler would. Zoe didn't care, but she looked anyway because her big siblings were.

You sent the photo to Regina, expecting it to go unanswered like your previous messages the last few hours.

'I wish I was there with you'

She responded within about a minute. You frowned reading the message.

'Everything okay?' You respond, unsure if she'll even text back that quickly again. The little bubble with the three dots pops up immediately.

'Yes and no. It's fine.'

You were in the middle of typing up a response when she sends you another message.

'Can I still come over?'

You delete the message you were in the middle of writing to type up a new one.

'To my mom's for the rest of break? Or to my dad's for dessert?'

'Both. I don't want to be in this fucking house any longer than I need to be. I'm an adult, right???'

You smiled and rolled your eyes at her response.

'Yes, of course can. Dessert will probably be around 7. That work?'

She didn't text back, but she responded to your message with a heart so you knew it was most likely fine. You sent her your location so she knew where to go and continued to play with your siblings that had been all but demanding your attention while you responded to Regina.

"Alright, alright." You say, dodging a block that Levi was about two centimeters from smacking you in the face with. "Relax, you little monster." You tease, tickling his little belly and making him break out into a fit of giggles. Zoe looked up at you like she was being left out and you tickled her also, making her laugh.

There was a light knock on the door frame and you looked up to see your dad coming in with a small plate of appetizers, two sippy cups with water for the kids, and then a bottle of water for you.

"It sounded pretty rowdy up here, thought my babies could use some refreshments." He handed Levi his sippy cup and sat down on the floor across from you with his legs crossed.

You rolled your eyes slightly at him still calling you his baby, but you also still found it really cute and wouldn't dare make a comment about it.

Zoe was resting comfortably on your lap and he handed her the drink before giving you your water bottle and holding out the plate of snacks for you to pick off of, stealing a mini quiche for himself in the process of course.

You took a big sip of your water, not even realizing how thirsty you had gotten. You closed the bottle and set it to the side, taking the plate from him and eating the last mini quiche before it got stolen from under you.

"How's it going down there?" You ask him with your mouth a little full, covering it with one of your hands to be not gross.

"It goes, bud. They get on my nerves. What can I say?" He chuckled. "You talk to your mom today?"

"I called her but she didn't answer. Probably too busy with Ricky. You know how it goes." You shrug, sharing a small piece of mozzarella with Zoe that came from one of the mini caprese skewers, smiling at her when she said 'mmm!' "Is that yummy??" You ask her with a smile and she grins up at you while chewing.

"I love when you come by, kiddo. I know these terrors do, too." He said sincerely, ignoring the fact that Levi was wacking his back with a foam sword now and laughing like a maniac.

"Hey, dad, can I ask you something?"

"Of course!" He said, reaching his arm back and snatching that foam sword from Levi. It made the toddler giggle and run off, thinking he was about to get chased.

"Is it okay if my girlfriend comes over for dessert?" Your dad knew you liked girls, but you had never introduced him to any of your past partners before. He waved to Regina that day after the party when she brought you back to get your clothes and she waved back, but that was about it. You don't even think he saw her face.

He perked up and smiled at you.

"Girlfriend?? Of course! That's so exciting, Y/N!" He have your knee a nudge. "Tell me about her."

"Well, her name is Regina. We went to high school together. We didn't really talk much then, but we ended up being neighbors in our dorm and it just worked out." You say with a wide smile on your face. "But, um, she isn't out. To like anyone really, but especially her family. So I don't know how comfortable she would having people know, but I also wanted at least you to know that she was my girlfriend if I was going to invite her." You were nervous and rambling and you really hoped he understood what you were saying.

He nods his head and looks at you slightly concerned.

"I get what you're saying. Unless you indicate in any way that she's comfortable, we don't address it." He says sincerely. "Are you sure you're okay with dating someone like this?" He asks. You know he's coming from a good place, but you hate that people keep asking you this.

"I mean, she won't be in the closet forever." I shrug, picking a piece of lint off Zoe's outfit. "It'll be okay, dad. And if it's not, then at least I gave her a good first experience, right?" You give him a reassuring smile and he reaches over to brush hair from your face.

"I'm glad you turned out to be such a good kid. I know you dealt with a lot of shit as a kid, but you didn't let it ruin you. She can definitely come. I'm excited to meet her." He gave you a genuine smile.

The four of you turned your heads when you heard footsteps approaching. Your step mom, Ginny, came into the room looking exasperated and closed to door behind her softly.

"God, I hate the holidays sometimes." She said, plopping down on one of the rockers in the playroom. "They're driving me nuts. How have things been up here? It got quiet so I came to check on everyone- hi munchkin!" She reached for Zoe who all but launched herself off your lap to crawl to her mom.

You took advantage of your newfound hand freedom and grabbed that plate of appetizers you had set down. Though your freedom was short lived because within about ten seconds Levi threw himself onto your lap and almost sent your plate of appetizers flying.

You set your plate on the floor again and wrapped an arm around his tummy, offering him a pita bread with hummus that he happily accepted.

"Hey, Ginny?"

"Yes, hun?"

"Is it okay with you if I have someone join us for dessert? Dad said yes, but it's your house, too." She smiles at you and nods immediately.

"Of course, Y/N! We have plenty of dessert and I think you need someone your own age to enjoy the rest of the night with, too."

"Psh, I don't know what you mean. I am having so much fun with these two. Couldn't ask for a better holiday." You say truthfully, giving Levi's leg a playful pinch and making him laugh.

"So is this a friend or...?" Ginny asks with a small smirk and you can't help but smile wide. "Ah! I knew it! I knew it!" She said excitedly,

Ginny was about ten years younger than your dad. Smack dab right in the middle between your age and his. She's great and you really do love her. She's been around for many years now at this point and knows you just as much, if not more than your own mom.

"She's my girlfriend." You admit, blushing slightly. "But she isn't out yet, especially to her parents. I don't know how comfortable she's gonna-"

"Say less. I know exactly what you mean. We've got you. If that changes at any point, please tell us. Cause we would love to treat her like your girlfriend if we can. This will definitely stay between us though."

You smiled at her and the three of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments. You were watching the kids play and listening to the commotion that Ginny's family was stirring up downstairs.

At some point her mom shouted up the stairs obnoxiously for her that timers were going off and food needed to be pulled out and you all knew your peaceful moment was over.

Your dad and Ginny went downstairs to pull the food and turkey from the oven and you were asked politely if you could please do diaper checks on both of the kids before bringing them down.

Which, honestly, that seemed way better than walking into that mess downstairs.

---

Dinner was a little more chaotic than you were used to, but it wasn't totally unbearable. Ginny's parents, aunt and uncle cleared out so they could spend dessert with her cousin and his wife. They complained the whole night about how his wife was more of a baker than a chef.

So apparently that was the reason they sprung this last minute self invite to dinner on them.

Ginny's sister stuck around though, most likely to talk mad shit over a slice a pie and a glass of wine. Which, so valid.

Regina messaged you around 6:30pm that she was ten minutes away and you could feel yourself getting really nervous all of a sudden.

Cause of the whole never bringing anyone home before thing.

She texts you when she's here and asks you to come to her car. You look at the message confused, but excuse yourself from the house and run outside.

She's sitting in her black Volvo, which is surprising to you since she's back home in Evanston. You walk up to her car and open the drivers side door and see her sitting looking...nervous?

"Hey, baby." You say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a quick hug. "Everything okay?" You ask, sounding concerned.

"I think I almost came out to my mom." She said, rubbing her hands against her thighs anxiously.

"Almost?" You ask, cocking your head to the side.

"I was in the middle of doing it and my dad came in and I just stopped talking."

You give her a sad smile and squeeze her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. How do you feel about almost doing it?" You ask, dancing on your toes because you were starting to get cold. "What was the conversation?"

"I was asking her if I could leave and spend the rest of break with a friend. I didn't just want to be cruel and just leave." She was playing with her steering wheel cover. "I could tell she looked kind of upset, but she said it was fine and that she hoped I had fun. I felt bad. Like really bad. So I told her I was spending it with someone I was dating. She just looked so excited." She shook her head and buried her face in her hands and letting out a muffled, dramatic scream into her hands. She looked up again with a straight face. "Then she said tell her about him and I just didn't want to lie. I just felt in that moment I could trust her. All I was able to say was 'well it's not a guy' before my dad busted into the kitchen."

"And then what?"

"I left to come here." She shrugged.

"Babe, you definitely came out to her. You just didn't talk about it after." You say with an awkward chuckle.

"No," she shook her head. "I didn't come out. I didn't tell her enough. She's too goofy to have picked up what I meant." She said, seemingly trying to convince herself.

"Okay, you didn't come out." You affirm, but her phone lighting up over and over in the cup holder of her center console is having you believe that her mom might not be as goofy as she thinks. But you also know Regina can ignore messages like nobody's business when she wants to, so part of you also has a feeling Regina knows that her mom knows, too. "Are you gonna check those...?" You ask cautiously.

"No, I'm not and I think you should mind your fucking business." She said simply while she fixed her makeup.

"Don't start, please." You say softly and you see her tense briefly before relaxing.

"You're right. I'm sorry." She swallows and nods, looking up at you with a pout, her bottom lip quivering. "I'm really sorry." You furrow your eyebrows and cock your head to the side confused, waiting for her to continue. "I don't think I should go inside."

She said it barely above a whisper, but it still felt so fucking loud.

"Don't do this, Regina." You say, shaking your head. "Just come inside." You say calmly.

You can hear what your dad said earlier replaying in your head, about if you were sure you wanted to do this with someone who wasn't out yet and you hated that Regina was sitting here in front of you proving him right.

"I don't-" She just shrugged, looking at you with those sad fucking eyes.

"Look, I know you're scared and it freaks you out. I'm not trying to rush you." You cup her cheek, rubbing your thumb along her cheekbone. "But please just trust me and come inside. If you really hate it, I'll let you leave." You say softly. Your heart was pounding and you swear your hands were shaking.

Shit, you weren't even fucking cold anymore.

Regina was unpredictable and the possibility that she could flee at any moment was always at the back of your mind. Anytime something regarding her sexuality and coming out got involved, you always felt like you were teetering between her fully accepting herself or absolutely destroying you.

She gripped her steering wheel, staring straight ahead. You could tell by the way she was breathing that she was anxious and thinking about what to do.

You wonder if the only reason she hasn't just driven off yet was because you were standing in front of her open car door.

She chewed her top lip, trying to control her breathing through her nose and she nodded slightly. Her thumbs ran across her textured steering wheel cover and she nodded again, this time more confidently.

Like, you could actually tell she was nodding.

"Okay, okay, yeah." She licks her lips and swallows, continuing to nod.

You can tell she's still trying to convince herself, but she said it out loud and that works for now.

"They don't even have to know you're my girlfriend. You can just be my friend." You reassure her and you can visibly see her relax a bit.

She takes a deep breath and pulls her visor down and fixes herself in the mirror again. She slams it up when she's done and within seconds she's moving to get out of the car. The attitude and anxiety gone from her face as if it were never there and you frown at the thought of how good Regina has become playing this version of herself.

She grabbed her phone and her purse, closing and locking her car door and shoving her keys into her bag. She adjusted her outfit nervously and looked over to you.

"Do I look okay?"

"You look so beautiful." You smile, staring at her like she was the most beautiful person you had ever seen.

Well, she was.

She nods and follows you up the rest of the driveway, gripping the back of your shirt until you open the front door.

You walk inside and shut the door behind you both. You take her jacket off and hang it up. You hear some noise coming from the kitchen so you make your way over there first.

Your dad is pulling an assortment of pies from the fridge, Zoe crawling around his feet and him avoiding stepping on her expertly.

"Hey, dad?" You called to him softly when you entered the kitchen to get his attention. He looked up at the both of you and smiled.

"Hey, kiddos."

"This is my friend, Regina." You introduced and you could see the faintest glimmer of sadness on his face before he smiled wide and wiped some whipped cream off his hands on the apron he was wearing.

"So nice to meet you, Regina, Y/N's friend." He said, his hand extended out and stepping over Zoe. "I'm Greg, Y/N's dad."

Regina met him halfway and shook his hand firmly, smiling wide while she did it.

"It's so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for letting me join you so last minute."

"Oh nonsense!" He let go of her hand and waved her off playfully. "We are so happy to have you here." He turned to look to you now. "Y/N, you want to bring Zoe and Regina to the dining room and introduce her to everyone else? I'll handle the pies."

"Sure, dad." You squat on the floor with your arms out. "ZoZo, let's go." She smiles and crawls to you, her hands and knees smacking against the tile floor. You pick her up and toss her slightly, seeing Regina's eyes widen slightly when you catch her and prop her on your hip. "Say hi, Zoe!" You bounced her on your hip in Regina's direction.

"Hi Zoe!" Regina lit up, smiling at her in a way you had never seen before. Zoe looked up at her, taking her in and studying her. She decided after about ten seconds that Regina was a friendly and giggled, throwing herself back in your arms.

She reached a curious hand out to Regina, most likely wanting to get her grubby paws on her earrings but the blonde knew better than to give her access to those. Instead she gave her one of her hands, letting Zoe investigate her painted nails, her rings, and her bracelets.

You could hear your dad shuffling in the kitchen behind you so you knew you had to get out of the way. You pointed your head in the direction of the dining room and began walking. You were essentially pulling Regina along because Zoe was showing zero interest in letting her go.

You walk into the dining room where Ginny, her sister Lucy, and Levi were setting up plates and silverware for dessert.

You introduced Regina to everyone and when she tried to move to shake everyone's hand, Zoe began the makings of a temper tantrum and she stayed put out of panic.

Regina apologized and thanked Ginny for having her and you took this opportunity to hand Zoe to Regina while she was distracted with talking. Zoe went with her willingly, resting her head on Regina's shoulder and fiddling with her rings.

It made your heart want to explode honestly with how cute it was.

Everyone in the room laughed and Ginny made a comment about how it looked like Regina found a friend and she was happy to have her here.

Ginny told you both to take a seat and you pulled out a chair for Regina and Zoe, helping push it in for her.

You pulled out the seat to her right for yourself, but Levi took it upon himself to slide into the seat instead and investigate this new person that both of his siblings are giving attention to.

"Levi, you butt." You say, rolling your eyes and pushing his chair in and taking the seat to Levi's right. He fully ignored you and turned his attention to Regina.

"Hi, look at my dinosaurs." He told her, pulling out three little dinosaurs from his corduroy pants and setting them on the table between them.

"I love dinosaurs." She tells him. "Do you know which dinosaurs those are?" He nods excitedly and sits on his knees, naming them out excitedly and giving her a fun fact about each of them. "See, I didn't know that about any of them. You taught me something new today." She smiled at him and he was practically vibrating with excitement.

He was ready to hop of his chair and get his dinosaur book, but Ginny told him to park it or no dessert.

He started asking her other questions; her favorite animal, her favorite planet, her favorite reptile. She answered all of his silly questions like they were the most important thing in the world to her right now and you swear you could feel yourself somehow falling even more in love with her.

Your dad served the pies, giving everyone small slices of each one to sample (there were four). When he handed you a plate to pass to Regina, he gave you a look and you know it meant that he liked her.

"Y/N, let your friend eat her pie in peace and take the baby from her." He said, after he handed you her plate.

"I was already planning on it, dad." You took the plate and stood up, setting it in front of Regina and snatching Zoe up while she was distracted by the pie. Regina chuckled and Zoe threw herself back in your arms in protest of being taken away from her new friend.

Lucy said she would take her, so you handed her over to her, but her protest turned into a meltdown so she went with Ginny instead who bribed her with pie.

There was quiet conversation over dessert. Your dad and Ginny asked Regina a few questions about herself, but nothing too crazy. How she's liking college, if she's decided on her major yet, and if she did any school activities.

Your dad was very excited to find out she played soccer. They talked about that briefly before moving on to essentially talk shit about Ginny's family.

You and Regina listened in silence, stealing glances and smiles at each other while you both enjoyed your dessert.

Once Levi was done being distracted with his own dessert, he became more talkative and more demanding of both yours and Regina's attention.

Part of you was worried that Regina was going to get annoyed. If she did, she didn't show it. She was entertaining all of Levi's silly questions, laughing at his jokes, and asking questions back to him and listening intently to his answers.

Once dessert was wrapped up, the kids were hyped up on sugar and overtired so you took that as your cue to dip out.

You both said your goodbyes. Your family hugging Regina as if they didn't just meet her a little over an hour ago.

You followed your dad into the kitchen so he could give you leftovers, packing you enough for the two of you since you told him Regina was most likely going to be going back to your mom's with you.

When you came back to the front door with your bag of leftovers, Regina had her jacket on with Levi in her arms and they were making silly faces at each other.

"Ready?" You ask with a smile. Regina nods and sets Levi down and he clings to her leg immediately.

"Can I come?"

"Not this time, hun." Ginny steps in, picking him up to avoid making it awkward for anyone. He crosses his arms and pouts. "They'll just have to come back soon." She smiles and gives him an encouraging jostle.

"Definitely, Levi. We'll be back soon." You pinch his cheek. He perks up and you know he's gonna hold you to that.

You put your own coat on and say one final goodbye before exiting the house. As soon as the door is shut, Regina links your arms together and you both start walking down the driveway.

"They knew, didn't they?" She said with a slight laugh.

"Was their acting that bad?" You ask, turning to look at her to try and gauge her reaction. She was smiling, so at least you knew she wasn't mad.

"No, they were good. They were great." She said, pulling you closer to her. "I saw the look your dad gave you when he was giving you the pie. Your dad also might've overemphasized that I was your friend just a touch." She laughed lightly.

"He tried so hard." You laugh. "I think he was just excited, but also wanted to be respectful of you."

"Excited?" She asked, pulling her keys out of her purse.

"You're the first partner I've had that he's met, technically." You explained, pulling your own keys from your coat pocket.

"I'm really sorry. I feel like I ruined that experience for you." She stopped in front of her car, turning to look at you with soft eyes. She wrapped an arm around your waist.

"No," you say softly, shaking your head. "I wouldn't have had it any other way. It was perfect. You were perfect. Did you have an okay time?" You hold her arm, pulling her closer to you and she leans into you.

"More than okay." She nods, fighting off a smile. "I love you." She whispers, leaning in and kissing you softly.

"I love you, too." You say when she pulls away. "Thank you for coming tonight." You nudge your nose against hers and she smiles.

"I'm glad I did." She presses her forehead against yours before pulling away. "It's fucking cold." She unlocks her car and you open the door for her. You rest your arm on the roof of her car, poking your head into the car slightly.

"I have a nice warm bed and some leftovers with our names on it." You sing, holding up the bag of leftovers.

"Well, fuck, why are you just standing around then?" She laughs, rolling her eyes at you playfully.

"Don't get upset with me, but you know you're gonna have to talk to your mom, right?"

"No, I know." She says softly, nodding in agreement. "I'm gonna call her. I just want to enjoy the rest of tonight with you."

"Okay." You nod, pushing some hair behind her ear. "Follow me back, then?" You say, stepping away from her car. She turns on her car and rolls her window down as you close her door.

"I'll be right on your ass, babe."

#regina george x reader #regina george x you #my fic #regina george

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b1asho · 3 months ago

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Erm, oc comic? Just click on the images idk how to change the image position formatting here yet :(

This is what I've been doing all this time, I need to practice putting these things together. I like some things and had fun, but it also looks kind of yucky.

Oh well

Featured here are Rinshi, a muttreazik, and their boss/sister Maro, a Sundyne who's been (violently) ousted from her extremely politically important clan (for terrorism and attempted assassination :D )

The two are hiding from authorities in the SEZ, and not having a great time in general.

Here's a buncha other info, aka i want to talk about my wretched ocs :

-Rinshi is a mancer, meaning they're a muttreazik with a degree of control over matter around them (think telekinesis). Their blue eyes aren't the result of my choice of coloring, thats the color they are all the time (a highly highly unusual color for muttreazik, even in the 'other' color category).

Rinshi is also a 'they' in the same way you'd call an animal an 'it' rather than a 'he' or 'she' if that makes sense. They don't think of themself as nonbibary in the human sense, instead it's more of an "outside of the binary and therefore a nonperson" way that Cerest use for xenos. It's the only option that's not male/female/he/she that they're aware of in this point in their life

Maro is a she (and VERY upset that it means she can't ascend to God emperor)

Rinshi is hunting with a nail that they’re controlling with their mind because that’s a lot easier than chasing down the alien rats yourself.

Normally this would be very easy for them but they’re kind of going through it right now, thus the major space-out and eye-bleed at the end (which normally happens to mancers who either overextend themselves or try to do stuff without any energy support from the body)

Not all Cerest-homeplanet animals have a decentralized nervous system like Cerest themselves do (such as these two animals, who have all their thinking meat in their head), but either way a shard of metal through the face isn’t good for anything

There are pockets of Cerest wildlife in the SEZ if you look for them hard enough, which Rinshi has to do because they’re currently in the outer reaches of it away from any inhabited districts where you could just buy/steal meat products. They're spending a considerable amount of time doing this since they're trying to keep a large hypercarnivore alive right now.

Maro got her face and torso cut up pretty bad during her.uh. Incident. Luckily Cerest heal fast, though infection and only eating rats has complicated and prolonged things. They’re currently living in an old habitat pod, which she can hardly leave thanks to the healing process (which has left her pretty much unable to walk. If she could, she'd definitely be the one doing the hunting because she has fewer qualms about killing things than rinshi does.)

This conversation is pretty out of character for her, but like she said, it's boring spending most of your time asleep in a garbage heap rather than pursuing your ambitions of ruling the world. Thankfully, she can always just ask her trusty retainer about things they don’t want to talk about.

‘et kerusit’ is just the Cerest version of like ‘my liege’ but specifically in the Sundyne female context and specifically for someone in Maro’s (former) rank/position in her (former) clan. "Princess" is also a pretty close analog but neither really sounded right so I made up some words. "Retainer” is the closest word I could find for what Rinshi is to Maro, and it fits fairly well (there is probably a better word out there but i like the old-timey knight vibe) they were originally employed to her clan as basically her little assistant and mandatory friend/bodygaurd/ally/etc. This happened mostly as an insult to her because that role should normally fall to a fellow sundyne and not a 'lesser species', but she has made it work.

I'm still testing this out but the Cerest language conventions are also why the question marks are out front most of the time, they don't change tone to indicate a question and instead just say an "I'm asking you a question" word at the start.

Rinshi also has a sort of stutter no matter what language they're speaking, with different words and sounds causing prolongations or repetitions. They didn't have any kind of support for the issue growing up, so theyre not great at managing it. So that's why some of their words are like that

The aforementioned rank difference is also why Maro gets 2 << instead of 1 when speaking (she's using a different enunciation of words to indicate her status, as is Rinshi. Basically ï for royalty i for commoner, or something. If they were speaking a Drecu dialect rather than a Sundyne one, their words would be in these things -> [[ ) .

As I’ve mentioned up there, they see each other more like siblings in their own mini clan (but she definitely calls the shots in their relationship )

Muttreazik think rebirth is real and they’re kind of right (at least within their own species). Rinshi does NOT want to dwell on where they used to live but those ideas were drilled in at a very young age.

#I hate these two (affectionate)#I NEED to introduce my ocs over here #but also im not done with all their refs yet so i dont want to #btw the soup is unseasoned boiled alien rat in water. not great #Sundyne #muttreazik #alien species

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mrs-stans · 7 months ago

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GQ Hype

How Sebastian Stan became Donald Trump in The Apprentice

With an uncanny performance as a young Donald Trump in The Apprentice and an even less recognisable turn in A Different Man, the shapeshifting actor is embracing his freaky side

By Ben Allen Photography by Daniel Jack Lyons

Coat by Loewe. Boots by Dolce & Gabbana.Necklace by Cartier.Daniel Jack Lyons

When Sebastian Stan was growing up in Romania in the 1980s, he began to learn English through passive immersion. His mother, a concert pianist, would regularly play English music and language lessons on the family record player while they were going about their day. “I’d be playing with toys and I’d hear, like, ‘frog’ and ‘dog’, or whatever,” Stan says. It meant that by the time the actor moved to Vienna at age eight, where he attended an American international school – and later, when he moved to New York at 12 – he had a decent jumping-off point. “I’m a big believer in putting yourself in a situation where, subconsciously, there’s work being done.”

In the past two years, Stan has put that method to use in a very different way. As he entered preproduction to play Donald Trump in Ali Abbasi’s The Apprentice – which charts the former President and current Republican candidate’s early rise through the New York property scene – he started spending his waking hours with tapes of the young Trump playing in his ears. He brushed his teeth with Trump, he went grocery shopping with Trump, he spoke to friends with one earphone in, Trump still nattering away in his ear. “I slept with him, by the way,” Stan says, well aware of how strange that sounds. “It just sort of ends up taking over your life.” He’s sitting somewhere in Los Angeles at lunchtime, speaking to me over Zoom, with the afternoon sun reflecting off his chlorine-blue eyes.

Jacket and shirt by Gabriela Hearst. Hat by Gladys Tamez. Ring by Cartier.

The Apprentice, which Stan first signed up for in 2022, explores the question, ‘How did Trump get like this?’ (The answer, it posits, has a lot to do with Roy Cohn, a lawyer and prosecutor who had risen to prominence in the 1950s as Senator Joseph McCarthy’s attack dog in the communist witch-hunts.) The film is the latest in a string of freaky, transformation-heavy roles that have run parallel alongside Stan’s very mainstream 13-year-and-counting stint as Captain America’s pal Bucky Barnes in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which has made him a globally recognised action star. The Apprentice lands this month in the UK, two weeks after A Different Man, an A24 production in which Stan plays an aspiring actor with neurofibromatosis, a genetic condition that has caused the growth of non-cancerous tumours on his face. They’re not your typical actor-in-between-superhero-outings roles – and the fact that Stan is spending so much time in the make-up chair outside of the blockbusters is indicative of a desire to get truly lost in his work.

I started to think a lot about the American dream. What is it? Is it a ghost you keep chasing?

Preparing to play Trump, he says, was like any other time he has portrayed a real-life person – take, say, Tonya Harding’s ex-husband, Jeff Gillooly, in I, Tonya, or Tommy Lee in Pam & Tommy. But this time around it came with an added layer of stress. “There’d be nights when my anxiety levels would be through the roof, because I’d be like, Why did I say yes to this?” he says with a laugh.

But Stan thrives when he leans into fear. He had been terrified of I, Tonya, and even more terrified of Pam & Tommy – which, in its exploration of the couple’s romance and sex tape, involved a scene where Lee converses with a silicone puppet of his penis. (The latter earned him Golden Globe and Emmy nominations.) Trump was a different beast. “I thought, I don’t know if this is doable. I don’t know if I have it in me,” he says. “But it’s not not gonna happen because I’m scared of it.”

Coat, shirt and tie by Ludovic de Saint Sernin. Trousers by Gabriela Hearst. Boots and gloves by Versace. Hat by Gladys Tamez. Daniel Jack Lyons

Jacket and shirt by Gabriela Hearst. Hat by Gladys Tamez. Daniel Jack Lyons

When his mother told him he was going to be leaving Vienna for the United States at 12 years old, Stan felt like the floor had fallen from beneath him. “It was like you were telling me that my life was over,” he says. His mother was a single parent and had met an American man and fallen in love; he wanted to bring them both to live with him in New York. Stan remembers crying in the shower in the days leading up to the move. After departing Romania a few years before, he had worked hard to forge new friendships. Now, he’d have to rebuild from the bottom up again. “That did feed me resilience, because it did allow me to get better at restarting and restarting,” he says. “It fed a lot of who I am.”

Upon arriving in America, he started working on his impersonation of an American teenager. “I was so traumatised by being different,” he says. He refused to speak Romanian, even at home. He didn’t tell anyone he was from a foreign country. “I wanted to change my name to Christopher,” he says. “I wanted to be as normal in America as anybody else.” Having already set the ball rolling with his passive English lessons as a child, he was able to adopt a seamless New York accent, leaving little to betray his otherness. He tried out every personality marker available to him at school, to figure out which one fitted: debate team, forensics, every sport he could muster, and drama, eventually gravitating towards the latter. “I became popular in high school through acting,” he says. “I went on dates. I found my path.”

Still, this otherness was a part of Stan, as much as he initially tried to suppress it. As he came to appreciate life in America – in a middle-class household, with a good education – he began to reappraise his background, and felt a sense of gratitude to his stepfather for bringing them over, and for the drive it seeded within him. “This idea that you’ve been so lucky to have been selected to get this opportunity,” he says. “I was able to seize it and work with it, but on the other hand it’s a never-ending burden because you go, ‘You better not blow it!’” He remembers taking a walk through the city on their arrival, gawping up at the skyscrapers, when his mother impressed upon him that very sentiment: “You see these buildings? This is where you have a chance to become something.” He thought about this conversation quite a lot while he was playing Trump, probably because it feels like a scene ripped right out of a more varnished biography of the former President. “I started to think a lot about the American dream, and sort of like, what is it?” he says. “Is it a ghost you keep chasing?”

That was a way of me understanding that you're just out there, like target practice.

When Stan was doing theatre in high school, he loved getting a chance to transform and become a different person entirely. “You’re 14, 15, and you’re playing parts where you have to be, like, 35 years older than you are, and you have to change your appearance, you have to change everything, and you have to walk a certain way,” he says. “That shit was fun.” He would find himself craving those meatier transformations later, after landing a run of roles in Hollywood playing traditionally hot villains and heroes in Gossip Girl and in the Captain America movies. “Watching Christian Bale do The Fighter and watching him do Batman and Vice and The Machinist… He was a guy that, to me, could have made very conventional choices because he’s very good at any of it. But then he’s trying these things.”

Opportunities like this aren’t necessarily afforded to nascent actors. In a weird way, you kind of have to wait for your face to become recognisable before you’re allowed to start messing with it. The first real taste Stan got of this was in 2017 – after he had been solidly established as a Marvel hero – in the Margot Robbie-led, Oscar-winning I, Tonya, which told the story of the assault on figure skater Nancy Kerrigan, orchestrated by her Olympic rival Tonya Harding’s camp. For Harding’s ex-husband – who sets the assault in motion – they were looking for someone very different to Stan. The real Gillooly is slight and short, with narrow features. Stan felt his teen-drama looks would work against him in the audition process. “I’m like, ‘I’m gonna walk into that room and they’re gonna see the taller guy, The CW [the young-people-melodrama US TV network that first aired Gossip Girl] guy.’ I felt like I was going to be immediately judged.”

Coat and pyjamas by Dolce & Gabbana. Daniel Jack Lyons

I, Tonya director Craig Gillespie saw in Stan a capacity to become Gillooly. “I was familiar with Captain America: Civil War and his work there, and I couldn’t quite picture it [at first],” Gillespie tells me. “But he actually turned up [to the audition] in the turtleneck and the moustache, almost in character. And the transformation, and his instincts tonally and comedically… He was actually improvising things in the scene that worked incredibly well.”

Gillespie was impressed not just by how Stan had remoulded himself in the shape of someone else, but by his ability to tap into the character’s humanity, too. “It has to be emotionally resonant,” he says. “You have to be able to connect to the characters… He completely commits, which is an incredibly scary proposition for an actor.” Still, Stan was filled with anxiety heading into I, Tonya. “The amount of fear I had was almost traumatising,” he says. But then he did it. “I worked so hard for that movie, and it worked.”

A DIFFERENT MAN takes things up another notch. The film was written and directed by Aaron Schimberg, a rising indie director whose work has explored how disability has impacted his life (Schimberg was born with a cleft lip and palate). In it, a prosthetics-heavy Stan plays Edward, an actor whose biggest break to date is a small role in a corporate training video about how to treat employees with facial differences in the workplace. Edward’s spirit has been crushed by the world around him, weathered by the relentless gawping of strangers and rejection. Then, he takes part in a clinical trial for a new drug that could remove the tumours from his face. It works. Edward fakes his death and adopts a new identity, looking just like regular old Sebastian Stan. But when Edward’s kind neighbour – played by The Worst Person in the World’s Renate Reinsve – stages a play about him, he finds himself in competition with Oswald (played by Adam Pearson, a British actor with neurofibromatosis) for the part. It is, to put it mildly, a confronting drama, excavating both society’s unwillingness to treat people with disabilities fairly and the fallacy of our terminal dissatisfaction with our looks.

Coat by McQueen. Shirt by Louis Vuitton. Trousers by Louis Vuitton. Tie by Dolce & Gabbana. Boots by Versace. Daniel Jack Lyons

Though the film treads across the noir and comic horror genres, and at points tips into the absurd, it feels most like a parable. “It’s another version of the American dream, right?” Stan says. “Don’t wish for the things you want; you don’t know what’s going to happen.”

During the shoot, Stan often had long stretches between having his facial prosthetics applied and his call time (the film’s make-up designer, Michael Marino, was simultaneously working on The Marvelous Mrs Maisel, and would sometimes have to squeeze Stan into make-up in the early hours before running to that job). So Stan would walk around New York, including parts of his own neighbourhood, wearing hyperrealistic prosthetics, getting just a little taste of what his life would be like if he had been dealt a different hand. At one point, he went to his local coffee shop, where a barista he has known for years was working the counter. “She was so busy handling stuff, and suddenly she turned and she didn’t expect to see me,” he says, “and I could see the shock going immediately into overcompensation.” Pearson told him that those are the reactions that he is most often confronted with as a person with a disability: shock verging on repulsion, and guilty, over-the-top kindness.

Schimberg helped Stan to draw a neat line between Edward’s life and his own experience of fame. The one thing they had in common is how they’re observed in public spaces. “He said, ‘You have to think about what it’s like to be recognised. And the sense that you’re fair game out there.’ That I could understand,” Stan says. “I’ll go to lunch with my mom and somebody will be filming me the entire time, pretending they’re not. Or I’ll see somebody look at me strangely and then they’ll whisper to their friends. Or I’ve had someone come and tap me and run away. The invasiveness of that… And I can’t do anything but just receive it.”

Stan is quick to clarify that his experience as a famous person is not really comparable, that it comes with all sorts of upsides. But this point of similarity helped him to fully embody the character. “That was a way of me understanding this thing – that you’re just out there, like target practice.”

Coat and pyjamas by Dolce & Gabbana. Daniel Jack Lyons

Production on The Apprentice was hazardously stop-start. Several times over, Stan began his Trump immersion routine – which also involved pounding Coca-Colas and peanut butter and jam sandwiches, among other things, to put on some very un-superhero bulk – only to find out that production had been suspended. At one point, the project came so close to overlapping with his next Marvel outing, next May’s Thunderbolts, that he had to start shredding instead – only for Thunderbolts to be postponed because of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Straight back to the PB&Js. All that work wasted. “I’m fuckin’ 41; I just worked pretty hard to get in shape here!” he says.

Stan’s Trump is admirably nuanced, particularly for a person who has been so widely imitated – on SNL, on late-night talk shows, every second of every day by comedians trying to make a name for themselves on TikTok – as to be reduced to a caricature in the public consciousness. Initially, it feels quite removed, but then you spot the shape his mouth curves into while enunciating words like “deal” and “loser”, a subtle pursing of the lips when he’s being spoken to, a hand gesture. As the movie progresses, the man with whom we’re all exhaustingly familiar comes closer and closer to the fore.

Suit and boots by Versace. Vest top by Schiesser. Hat by Gladys Tamez. Watch by Cartier. Daniel Jack Lyons

The challenge, in Stan’s eyes, was to tread the very fine line between interpretation and imitation. “It’s a balance between having the familiarity without it becoming sort of a schtick,” he says. “There is a small window of time where you are going through the impersonation phase, because you’ve got to get through that in order to come out the other end,” he says. “There is a mechanical, technical piece to it, and that comes from actually studying a person.” According to Stan’s mother, he spent much of his childhood relentlessly impersonating people he came in to contact with. “I’ve always been good at watching people,” he says.

I'm going to commit the fuck out of it and surrender myself to the story.

Once he got comfortable enough, he would take the show on the road – trying versions of the character out in restaurants to see if anyone would pick up on it. “Because there’s a thing getting born,” he says, “and you want to test it out in the world, but you don’t want to overdo it too quickly – then it gets frozen.” No one seemed to notice in the moment, which was at least some indication that he hadn’t tipped over into parody, but some friends who have seen the movie realised retrospectively: “They’ve come up to me after and said, ‘Now I see this fuckin’ weird thing you were doing!’”

When we meet Trump in The Apprentice, he is a footsoldier in his father’s company and significantly less self-assured, though he’s got the trademark wispy hair and the ill-fitting suits. The wheels begin to turn when he meets Cohn – portrayed here in typically committed fashion by Succession’s Jeremy Strong, with whom Stan only had the chance to interact in character on set – who begins to sculpt Trump in his own image, laying out his rules for success, which will be very familiar to anyone who has paid attention to Trump’s political career: 1) attack, attack, attack; 2) admit nothing and deny everything; and 3) always claim victory and never admit defeat.

Coat, trousers and shoes by McQueen. Vest top by Ami. Sunglasses by Jacques Marie Mages. Pin by Cartier. Daniel Jack Lyons

Stan seems reticent to get into the politics of The Apprentice, which depicts Trump as, among other things, a rapist, in a scene referencing allegations made in a deposition by his first wife Ivana during their divorce proceedings. (Trump has previously denied the rape allegation; Ivana later issued a statement clarifying that she had felt violated, but was not raped in a “literal or criminal sense”.) But the movie speaks for itself. And Trump’s camp is already speaking back: after the film premiered at Cannes in May, the presidential campaign’s chief spokesperson Steven Cheung called the movie “garbage”, “pure fiction” and “election interference by Hollywood elites”, while also threatening a lawsuit. In a press conference at the film festival, Abbasi suggested that an ideal release date would be in mid-September, to align with the second presidential debate (but the film, as it happens, is now due out on 11 October in the USA, and 18 October in the UK). It wouldn’t take Alan Turing to decipher the message being transmitted. But I try and press for a direct answer: does Stan feel an added sense of responsibility playing Trump in an election year? “You can’t not think about it,” he says. “But I had tremendous trust in Ali Abbasi and his vision for the movie. And it is an important story – I think the movie makes a great attempt at exploring: how did we get here? But I approached it with the same responsibility as I approached anything I ever got involved with, which is, I’m going to give this my all. I’m going to research the fuck out of it; I’m going to commit the fuck out of it and surrender myself to the story.”

Does he have any concerns about backlash from Trump or from MAGA supporters? “I mean, is there anything out there now that doesn’t get backlash? You can’t worry about what people think,” Stan says. “But I’m fully aware that I’m doing things that are not going to be for everybody.”

He’s not far off the mark. Even Marvel, the world’s highest-grossing movie franchise of all time, has faced quite a bit of criticism in recent years – in part for the way in which they’ve handled the transition to a new set of heroes and storylines since 2019’s Avengers: Endgame. Stan doesn’t have any time for it. “I’ve never been part of a company that puts so much heart and thought into anything,” he says. “I think if Marvel was gone, it’d be such a big hole to try and fill up. Don’t just go out there and shit on something without offering something better.”

Coat by Loewe. Boots by Dolce & Gabbana. Necklace by Cartier. Daniel Jack Lyons

He’s certainly not done with the MCU yet. Thunderbolts, which he’ll headline alongside Florence Pugh, will arrive in May next year. And he’s already looking beyond that, to a potential reunion with Robert Downey Jr, who has been announced to return in the next Avengers movie – not as Iron Man, but as the villain Doctor Doom. “I hope I’m in a scene with him,” Stan says. “Is there any other guy that could pull that off? I don’t know, probably not. After Tropic Thunder, is there anything that guy can’t do?” he says, laughing. It is perhaps the movie that I least expect Stan – or anyone, to be honest – to reference in 2024, but I should know better. Downey Jr is a transformation master, too. Game recognises game.

Trump doesn’t exist in the Marvel universe – or at least not yet – but if you spot a hint of him in Thunderbolts, you’ll know why. “I went off to Marvel after [The Apprentice],” Stan says. “And we were doing scenes, and I would do something, a thing or two, and be like, ‘Fuck! This is still living somewhere.’”

Styled by Sean Knight Hair by Erica Adams Grooming by Kc Fee using iS Clinical at Redefine Representation Set Design by Daniel Horowitz Production by May Kielany

#Sebastian Stan #The Apprentice #A Different Man #Thunderbolts*#Interview #Photoshoot #GQ British #GQ Hype #GQ #mrs-stans

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lincolndjarin · 1 year ago

Text

Every Now and Then - ch. two

[ And if You Only Hold Me Tight ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 9.3k

summary : you spend some time tommy, you spent some time with joel.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, language, panic attacks, violence, injury, wounds, possessive behavior, toxic relationships, animal death, i probs missed some i never know how to tag so lmk if i misses anything !!

a/n : this took so long and i dont even know it its good so i'm deeply sorry about that.

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“It’s nice to meet you Ellie.” You hold your hand out across the table to her, offering your own name up in the process, noticing an incredulous look in her eyes as you say it. Of course she doesn’t shake it, you’ve worked with enough survivors her age to know how they think.

She doesn’t trust any of this, and you can’t blame her. Every single thing she’s seen since arriving here is too good to be true, she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. That’s okay, you can be patient. She just needs to learn how to be a kid again. When she makes no attempt to move you pull your hand back, your smile never wavering. You’ve met kids in much worse condition than this, you can work with this.

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself, Ellie.” You set the notebook you’d been writing in back down onto the table, you don’t want this to feel like an interrogation for her, it needs to be a conversation or you won’t get any of the information you need.

“Like what?” She’s slouched down into the chair, her arms crossed across her chest. She has her defenses up, she has spent her entire life protecting herself, she isn’t going to stop just because a stranger offered her a mug of tea. A mug of tea that she has notably not touched.

“Anything you want to, or I could ask some specifics if you’d like.” You take a sip of your own tea, hoping it might show her it’s safe. She only hums in response, you decide it might be for the best if you just ask her what you need to know. “Let’s start with a few easy ones, how old are you?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“We need to assess your health, what classes you’ll be put in, if you’ll be needing any feminine products. I promise, anything I ask is for your own good.” Seeing kids like Ellie is a painful reminder of just how lucky your own little ones are, it’s a wonder she made it this far. You can’t hold her skepticism against her, her distrust is why she’s still alive. “Would it help if we brought your father in? He’s just down the hall with Maria.” You aren’t sure why, you typically handle every stray but she had insisted on helping you out today. She’d spewed some sort of excuse about how Ellie might need some special attention but as far as you can tell she’s in the same state that most kids are in when they arrive.

“He’s not my dad.” She’s quick to say it, as if it’s a sore subject.

“May I ask his relation to you then?” Maria had told you she arrived with her father, you were told to expect one teenage girl and one man in his fifties.

“He’s… my friend?” She sounds unsure, unsure enough to ring alarm bells in your head.

“Honey, are you in a safe situation? We can help you if you need-” She doesn’t even let you finish your question before sitting up straighter.

“No, no, no, gross, it’s not like that, he’s not like that.” The look of disgust on her face brings you immense relief, this world is full of enough horrors for a young woman to face.

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure.” Even if she hasn’t been through that, she hasn’t had it easy, no one has. But there’s something distinct in her eyes. Loss. She’s seen more than enough of it, more than anyone her age should. Her eyes keep darting to the door, her head tilts in that direction every time someone walks by. She’s worried about her companion. She doesn’t want to lose him too. “I know none of this makes sense, and you have no reason to trust me but I need you to try Ellie. And if I ask you anything you aren’t comfortable with then you don’t have to answer but I need you to try, please. The faster we finish up here, the faster you can get back to your friend.”

She takes a moment, you’re practically holding your breath when she finally nods.

Perfect, you can work with a nod. You love a nod, a nod is all you need to help this girl.

“Let’s start with your age again.”

“Fourteen.” You’ll have to have a menstruation kit sent to whatever house they put her in, most people’s cycles start being regular once after a few months in Jackson.

“Thank you.” All you get is another nod yet you can’t help but smile. “Do you know where you were born?”

“No.” Her eyes are trained on your shoes, occasionally darting around the room but staying low for the most part.

“Where did you grow up?”

“The QZ.” The thought makes you sick for several reasons. The last place a child should grow up is the streets of a quarantine zone, even if she was in the FEDRA program it wouldn’t have been easy. The thought of any QZ still makes you queasy, even after this long.

“Which one?” Anywhere but Boston.

“Boston.” Of course. With your luck she would be. Someone’s far from home.

“FEDRA program?” As terrible as they are, they always keep the kids' vaccinations up to date, one less thing for you to worry about.

“Mhmm.”

“How old were you when you left?”

“Fourteen.” How the hell did she make it to Jackson all the way from Boston in such a short period of time? Why come to Jackson at all? There’s certainly other QZ’s between here and there, there’s probably other settlements too.

“Can I ask why you left?” It’s not a question you need to ask but your stomach is in knots at the mention of the Boston QZ and you can’t help yourself.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” Something flashes across her face, she isn’t trying to be rude, she simply doesn’t want to talk about it.

“That’s fine.” You don’t need to worry about it. She doesn’t know him. There’s no reason for her to know him. QZ’s house hundreds, if not thousands, of people. There’s no reason to spiral over nothing. “Do you have any allergies that you’re aware of?”

“Nope.” She makes a popping sound on the “P” as she leans back in the chair, trying to look relaxed despite how on edge she still is. You decide not to put anymore pressure on her, it won’t do you any good.

“How are you feeling physically? Any symptoms of illness?”

“Like infection?” You have to stifle a laugh, if she was infected the two of you certainly wouldn’t be sitting here right now.

“I’m not worried about that, I mean something more like a runny nose or a cough.”

“Oh. No.”

“Any skills in particular you’d like to learn? Our school system is a little less traditional than what you probably had with FEDRA.”

“I like science.” She sits up a bit, good, you’ve found something that piques her interest.

“Then I will make sure you’re enrolled in some science classes. But I meant skills like agriculture, construction, or veterinary care. Something you could learn about that interests you. You won’t be asked to help out around town until you’re sixteen but we like to let you explore different things to see what you like-”

“Could I learn how to shoot a gun?” She leans forward before you can finish your thought.

“You could apprentice some of the hunters, we could also have you trained for patrol and scavenging which involves gun safety and training courses. You’re a bit young for those but I’m sure I could ”

“Really?” You can tell by the inflection in her voice that she still doesn’t trust you entirely, even if she’s excited.

“Of course, you’ll probably be the youngest student in the training class but I’m sure you can handle it.” She needs something good in her life. You want to protect everyone who finds their way to Jackson but this girl makes your heart ache. Most adults you’ve worked with aren’t able to hold themselves together this long, putting on a brave face despite everything.

“Do you like burgers?” You almost cringe as you say it, hoping she’s had food outside of the synthetic shit FEDRA produces.

“I guess?”

“I’m having a little cookout tomorrow evening once everyone’s finished their work, it’ll be small, just me and some family but you’re welcome to join. You can bring your friend, I have two little ones you can play with. They might be a little younger than your usual friends but I promise they’re great company.” You swear she almost smiles, and suddenly you just want to make this poor kid smile. “You know, I’ve got a telescope in my garage, so if you stop by it’s all yours.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely, I’ve never even touched the thing so maybe you can put it to good use. Let me write down the house description for you, it isn’t too far from this building, you can stop in whenever you want tomorrow. There’s an empty house across the street as well, maybe I could show it to you, see if you like it.” You pencil it down, tearing the paper and handing it to her. This isn’t something you’d typically do but you can’t resist an opportunity to help her feel more at home here.

“Yeah, I mean that would be great.”

“Perfect.” You lean back in your chair. “What sort of hobbies interest you?” You’ll be in charge of putting together a welcome basket for her since Maria has marked her down as a permanent occupant.

“Reading, I like comics. And I used to draw a lot in the QZ.” Perfect, books are easy to find since Jackson was built around a small library.

“Okay then, I think that’s all I need from you for now but I’ll be around soon once you get housing settled. You can go join Maria and your friend if you’d like, I have to figure out what house we’re going to put you two in but I’ll be stopping by later with a few things for you.” That actually isn’t all you need from her, there are more questions on your mind, one specific question. Ask her what his name is.

“Thanks.” She stands, quickly heading towards the exit as you grab your notebook, you need to make a list of everything they’ll be needing.

You shouldn’t. If by some stroke of misfortune you’re right this question will only serve to destroy everything you’ve worked so hard to push away. You shouldn’t.

But you do.

Before she’s out the door you call out her name, you don’t want to know, but you have to.

“Ellie, what’s your friend's name?”

You found the treehouse two months after you found Jackson.

With tears streaming down your face you had dropped the twins off at Maria’s, mumbling apologies before going to the edge of town, a large amount of Jackson was empty, and still is. They’re planning for the future. Someday, generations from now, the town will grow and they’ll use these houses to accommodate families. But for now it’s just an empty town, one that you realized had a treehouse. You had hidden yourself away there, curling up into a ball to become as small as possible.

Tommy had found you hours later, shivering, with no more tears left to cry. And he hadn’t chastised you or asked you why you’d done it, he’d just taken your hand and walked you home. It doesn’t take him hours this time, only about thirty minutes according to your watch. You hear the crunch of his boots, the walking pattern you recognize as his, and the creak of the boards as he pushes the hatch open before sliding up into the small space with you.

Before he speaks you’re already reaching for him, desperate to cling to some kind of familiar safety.

“Hey darlin’.” It’s a dance you two do, fluid and instinctual as he pulls you into his arms, you slot yourself between his bent legs as he wraps himself around you. You used to sit like this when you couldn’t find shelter on snowy nights, one of the many habits you had trouble breaking when you found Jackson. Maria would never ask you to change your relationship with him, it was a decision you had made with Tommy when he told you he wanted to marry her. A part of you just sort of knew she didn’t like it, so you stopped. And you’d never hold that against her, if the roles were reversed you certainly wouldn’t be as kind as she’s been. That’s why you’ve always loved Maria, since the first day you met her she has been like a sister, patient but blunt with you.

Except in this one instance.

She withheld some particularly important information.

“The twins?” You lay back against him as you mumble.

“Maria’s watching them. They’re helping her make dinner, you shoulda’ seen them in the kitchen. I swear she’s the only person they listen…” His voice trails off when he feels you tensing up all over again as you go back to fighting off tears.

A silence falls between you, familiar and reminiscent of your first few days together out in the woods. And just like back then, you’re the one to break it.

“Have you seen him yet?” The words feel small and hoarse in your throat.

“No. Couldn’t bring myself to.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, you wish you could find comfort in any of this but there’s just too much dread. Too much unease fills your stomach to relax.

“Does he know you’re here?” You wish your voice didn’t tremble so much.

“Maria didn’t tell him.”

“Are we sure it’s even him?”

“Not a lot of Joel Millers walking around during the apocalypse.” It’s like he can sense your skepticism as he quickly continues. “She said he looked like a Miller.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Like me but grayer.” Fair enough.

“Does he know I’m here?” There’s no way. He couldn’t.

“No.”

“Good.”

“Can’t stay that way forever.” You know that. But you don’t have anything to say about it so you move on, and redirect the anger that mixes with your confusion and fear.

“Why didn’t she tell us?” He can’t take your side in this, as much as you want him to, he has to take her side because her’s is the rational one. Do you have a side? Can you be mad at her for this? Are there even sides?

“Probably because she knew we’d react like this.” His head tilts a bit to rest against your own. You’re thankful for this position so you don’t have to look him in the eye.

“She should have told us.” You’re trying to remain calm but your voice is pitching up higher by the minute.

“She was going to, she just didn’t know how. She thought she had more time”

You need to relax. It feels like your heart is going to burst from your chest and you’re certain Tommy feels it too.

“How did he find us?” He wouldn’t have been looking for you specifically, unless he had a death wish.

“On accident, I think. Maria said he was looking for me when they found him.” That makes sense. It’s just a coincidence that you’re also here. He has no way of knowing that you even know Tommy. How he managed to locate him is another matter.

“We’re two thousand miles away from the QZ, how the fuck did he find you?”

“He always gets what he wants.”

You can’t argue with that. Plain and simple, you don’t need much more than that.

“I don’t want to see him.” An impossible request, but you make it anyway.

“We both know that isn’t possible.”

“Tell her to send him away.” Also unlikely.

“You know she can’t do that, we don’t turn folks away from Jackson.”

“Then I’ll leave.”

“Like hell you will.” There is no fight in his voice, just certainty as he holds you a little tighter. Not without me. The silent promise that lingers under his words, but it’s more complicated than that now, you have two toddlers and he has a wife, there is no running away from this. No running away from him

He’s inevitable.

It doesn’t matter if the world ends, and you run halfway across the country, Joel Miller is inevitable.

“He’s got a kid.” You mumble as you reach for his hand, entwining your fingers with his. You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you felt the warmth of his skin against yours.

He scoffs. “He’s got two.”

“Another kid, some girl. He brought her here all the way from Boston.”

He shifts a bit, clearly confused. “Why?”

“I was hoping you’d know, it isn’t exactly in his nature to help the needy.”

He pauses for a moment. “Well, I mean, how old is she?”

“Fourteen.”

“Well there’s your reason, Sarah was fourteen.”

Sarah.

A girl you know very little about other than the fact that she’s your daughter's namesake. Sarah Ruth Miller. It had been Tommy’s idea, you had only picked out a name for a boy and you owed Tommy everything for keeping you alive that long, so when he asked if he could pick his niece's middle name you’d been more than happy to oblige.

It hadn’t been Joel who told you about Sarah, he never even told you he had a kid.

Tommy had told you about it just before the twins were born. You’d been snowed into a cabin and he’d just returned from hunting with a grin on his face as he told you he had a surprise. You couldn’t sleep, between the cold and the pain in your lower back you were just too uncomfortable most nights. Tommy always insisted on staying up to keep you company even if he ended up falling asleep most of the time.

That night he told you about how he lost his niece on outbreak day as he skinned the fox he’d caught in one of his traps as you sat beside him in front of the crumbling fireplace. When he finished the story he held up the pelt and told you he was going to make your babies first blanket with it.

Of course at the time neither of you knew that he would have to make a second blanket, or that he would need to do it a month sooner than either of you had planned.

“I invited him to dinner tomorrow.” No sense in hiding the fact from him, he’ll find out either way.

“What?” His hand tightens around yours and it’s your turn to comfort him as your thumb rubs circles against the tense skin.

“Ellie- the kid, I invited her before I knew about Joel. Even told her she could bring him.” You almost laugh at how ridiculous it all sounds now. Of course you invited him to dinner completely by accident, sounds like something you would do.

“Then why don’t we just get it over with?” Or you could leave, brave the Wyoming wilderness with your kids and his wife and make a run for it, far, far, away from Joel Miller.

But you can’t do that.

So you might as well get it over with.

“Together?” You bring his hand up to your face to warm the icy skin of your cheek.

“Together.”

He means it. He stays with you until the next day, walking you back into town and bringing you to his house. Maria starts apologizing the second the two of you walk through the door but you just hug her. She doesn’t owe you anything, any anger you thought you felt towards her was misplaced.

And you all settle in for the night.

On particularly bad nights you’ll spend the night at their house. It’s been happening less and less these last few months but it’s an unspoken decision tonight as Maria brings down sleeping bags from the attic for the kids.

You tuck the kids in by the fireplace, hoping that they don’t catch the vacant look in your eyes as you kiss their foreheads. Thankfully they both seem to be too excited about having a living room campout to notice. You hear hushed whispers from the kitchen, it sounds like an argument so you just sit on the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as you stare out the window facing the street.

What house did she put them in? There are a few options for temporary housing, but he could be anywhere. The thought makes you nauseous. Thankfully you’re distracted when you eventually hear Maria stomping up the stairs followed by a sigh from the kitchen before Tommy joins you on the couch.

“Everything all right?” You mumble, hoping to not wake the kids as you offer up some of the blanket to him.

“It will be.”

God you hope so.

“How do you wanna do this?”

Good question.

Preferably you wouldn’t be doing this at all, instead you would be enjoying what might be the last nice day before autumn sets in entirely. You, Arthur, Ruth, Tommy, and Maria. You’d still be happy if Ellie came over by herself but that’s so unlikely you don’t even consider it an option. Joel’s too protective and you confirmed with Maria that Ellie would be coming. He won’t let her go alone, you know that better than anyone.

You rub the back of your neck with your freehand. “The kids stay inside with Maria.” Ruth is already there, helping her aunt with the salad as Arthur sits in your lap, playing with a few stones he’s set up on the picnic table.

“Okay.” Tommy’s biting his nails, you’d spent weeks reprimanding him about that until he broke the habit.

Your knee starts bouncing, a nervous habit of your own that you’ve had for as long you can remember. Thankfully Arthur simply hums to himself as you bounce him. As far as you can tell neither one of the twins knows something is wrong, you can only hope it stays that way.

“We can wait for them out here, I can ask Ellie to go in and help Maria with the kids.”

“And then?”

You frown in contemplation. “I haven’t planned that far ahead.”

“So you didn’t plan for the most important part?”

“Did you?”

His teeth shift when you ask, biting down hard enough to split his nail lower than he intended. You watch as blood blooms there while he curses under his breath.

“Shit, go inside and grab a bandage, they’re in the cabinet above the sink.” He stands as you wave him towards the house, he brings his thumb to his mouth, his brow furrowed. “And bring Maria and Ruth out with you when you come back so we can go over everything with her.” He nods, humming in response before he disappears behind the screen door.

“Is Uncle Tommy okay?” When you look down you’re met with a worried look plastered on your son's face. You instinctively cup his face with your hand, using your thumb to smooth out the wrinkle between his brows. He looks too much like his father when he does that.

“He’s okay, love. He’s just gotta go get your Aunt and Ruth.” You lean down, kissing his forehead before turning to set him down next to you.

“Okay, Mama.” He seems satisfied with your response as he gives your leg a little pat before running off towards the edge of the yard. You’ve got a patch of rocks and gravel the kids like to dig through. You turn to watch him, with your back now leaning against the picnic table as he crouches down, examining the ground before finding a suitable stone. Clutching it in his hand he rushes back to you, holding it up for your approval.

“Very pretty, thank you.” You take it from him with a smile, setting it behind you on the table with the rest of them. He repeats the process several times, staring down at the ground, scrutinizing each rock before bringing the ones he deems good enough over to you. You give appropriate oo’s and ah’s to each one, grateful for the brief peace your son is able to give you. He carries on with this for sometime, until you have a sizable pile of rocks beside you.

He leaves, and he returns, dozens of times until he decides not to return to the patch of gravel.

You thank him for the speckled stone he hands you now but instead of running back across the yard he squints, staring up at your expression.

“What’s wrong?” He hops up onto the bench next to you, grabbing the sleeve of your shirt and bunching it up in his little fist as you give him a soft smile.

“Nothing’s wrong, hon.” You ruffle his hair a bit but he doesn’t seem convinced.

“Why’d you make a mad face then? Uncle Tommy too.”

So much for the kids being clueless, they’ve always been too smart for their own good.

Shit.

You sigh, looking up at the clouds briefly before looking back down at him.

No sense in lying to him. “You know how Uncle Tommy has a brother?” You wrap an arm around him, pulling him close.

His face scrunches up a bit as he thinks. “Yeah…” He doesn’t sound entirely convinced as you give him a reassuring smile.

“Well, we don’t really- we don’t always get along with Uncle Tommy’s brother, and he’s gonna be visiting us soon.”

“Why?”

“He’s in Jackson for a little bit, and he came a long way to get here-”

“No Mama, why don’t you like him?”

This is a conversation you had hoped to have with your children when they’re older. Preferably it would be one you wouldn’t have to have at all, but it’s just another unavoidable part of Joel. They’re already old enough to ask questions, it started when kids in their class began asking if Tommy was their dad. Which of course led to the twins asking you one night just before bed the same question.

“No love, he’s your uncle, who told you that?” You don’t want that rumor going around, people already talk about it, it doesn’t help that they both bear a resemblance to him.

“No one, Annie asked us.” Your daughter answers as you brush some of her hair behind her ear. You recognize the name, it’s a girl in their daycare class.

“And what did you tell her?”

“That we just got a mom.” Ruth answers but Arthur picks up the second she’s finished speaking.

“Do we have a dad?” He tilts his head to the side as you swallow loudly.

“Yes, you do.”

“Where?” Ruth asks.

Last you’d heard he was in Boston.

“I’m not sure.” They turn and look at each other before turning in unison towards you, you should have known they wouldn’t take that answer. “We lived together for a little while, in New York, and then we got separated.” None of that means anything to either of them but it’s an answer, which is better than nothing.

Arthurs tiny hand squeezes yours, pulling you back into reality. You often wonder if they know when you’re lost in a memory, he looks up at you curiously. What did you do to deserve such a patient child?

You take a moment to think of a way to phrase it. “We… got into a fight. A long time ago.”

“About what?”

“Grown up stuff.” Your heartbeat quickens, you don’t want him to know about all that, he’s too little, you need to end this conversation.

“What kin-“ When he starts another line of questioning you poke at his sides, sliding him off the bench in a fit of giggles.

“Time to go inside, nosy little man.” You follow after him as he rushes away, brown hair that’s just starting to curl at the ends falling into his eyes as he runs away from the house.

You catch up to him within a few steps, scooping him up and cradling him like a baby. He lets out a high pitched shriek until you squish your face into his cheek, kissing the rosy skin until he quiets down to a few small giggles.

“Your aunt needs some help in the kitchen, you’re gonna go play with her and your sister now.” He nods as he squirms in your arms until he’s more comfortable, wrapping his arms around your neck and resting his chin on your shoulder as you walk him back towards the house.

He’s gonna need a nap soon, which means Ruth is gonna need a nap soon. Maybe you should try and get them both down before everything else happens.

Right on cue, Tommy pushes open the door with Ruth on his hip, Maria not far behind him. Based on the smiles they’re both sporting you can assume they’ve made up. They always do.

“I think it might be time for these two to head inside.” Tommy gives you a soft smile and for a single second you get to pretend that everything’s fine. Maria takes a lighter towards the grill, trying to light it as you go to stand next to Tommy, the twins both grinning at each other.

In your own little bubble, everything is completely fine, and you’re with your family.

And at the end of your single perfect second the bubble is popped. It all happens before you’re ready, although you doubt you could ever really be ready for this.

Maria pockets her lighter, mumbling something about going inside to look for matches after a few unsuccessful attempts. You set Arthur down, nudging him in her direction, he quickly runs towards her, taking her hand as she begins to make her way back towards the house. Tommy wraps his free hand around your shoulder. Giving you a reassuring squeeze as you rest your head against him to stare at your little girl.

“We’ve got this.” He gives you another squeeze but you’re struggling to find safety in it. He’s always been the strong one, the confrontational one. He’s got this. You don’t. You tilt your head to stare at him when Ruth’s gaze goes from your face to his but your head snaps to the side when you hear your name called.

Everyone looks up. The twins, Maria, Tommy, and you, as Ellie walks around the side of the house and waves at you. The sound of your name makes the man walking behind her look as well, his all too familiar scowl scanning the yard, softening into a look of disbelief when his eyes settle on you.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“I don’t like havin’ you out there on your own. I worry too much.” He mumbles the words against the back of your neck as he tightens his hold around your waist. At some point the two of you had stopped pretending you’d wake up any other way and just went to bed like this. “Stay here, angel.”

You’re so comfortable you almost consider it, but you ran out of cards last week and you’re cleared for work as of today. “I have to go if I want to sign up for any of the well paying shifts, Joel.” You peel his arms off of you, sitting up as he matches your movements.

“Don’t sign up for that shit, it’s always somethin’ stupid or dangerous.” His voice is low and thick with sleep as he wraps his arms back around you. “If you need somethin’ I’ll get it for you.” He hasn’t shaved in a few weeks, his coarse facial hair rubs against your shoulder as he murmurs.

Who knew big, scary Joel Miller could be so clingy.

The most surprising part of your relationship, if you could even call it that, with Joel is just how needy he is. You don’t have any problems with it, it’s just a bit of a shock. Although maybe needy isn’t the right word.

Protective.

You’ve left the apartment two times in total since moving in with Joel, both times you insisted on needing air much to his dismay. He accompanied you around the block without a word the first time. The second time was the same, the only difference was that you stopped to buy a small bag of buttons, Joel had frowned as you made small talk with the older man sitting behind the table before rushing you home.

“You could have just told me you needed buttons.” He grumbles as he holds the door open for you as you make your way to the kitchen table, taking a seat as you take his flannel off of you, the sight of your tattered sports bra serves as a reminder of how badly you need to get back to work once you’re cleared.

“I don’t need buttons, you do. Every shirt you own is missing at least one.” You laid the shirt down on the table, pointing to the drawer next to the sink. “Get me the sewing kit.” His frown deepens but he does as you say before sitting down across from you.

Reaching across the table he sets the box down beside you, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Still, you should have just asked me.”

You open the small tin, unspooling a bit of thread. “I needed to go outside for a few minutes, it’s stuffy in here.”

“We could have opened a window.” He grumbles under his breath as you grin, holding the thread between your teeth while sliding the other end through the needle.

“It’s not the same and you know it.” You mumble through your teeth before releasing the thread and setting the needle down. You pour the buttons out onto the table, searching for one that best matches the beige of the buttons on the flannel. Eventually his hand encompasses your own as he guides you to one that’s a slightly different shape but matches the color perfectly. “Thank you.” You give him a teasing smile as you place it over the frayed threads where its predecessor once was.

That was a week ago and you haven’t been outside since but when Joel went to get the mail from downstairs he brought you a notice from the doctor that you were cleared to return to work today. Despite his protests you start to push the blanket off of you but he’s quick to pull it right back up into place.

“Stay, please.” He continues to hum against your skin.

“I need the money, Joel.” You turn to look at him, his usual morning sulky look seems doubled today.

“How much do you need?” He raises an eyebrow at you as he lets his face fall forward, his forehead resting on yours.

“It’s not like that.” You swear, if you asked him to, he'd find a way to give you the moon and stars, but you hate relying on him for everything, especially after such a long time of being dependent on him. “I just need to work.”

“You don’t need to. You want to.” His breath still smells like whiskey from last night as he gives you an exasperated glare.

“Fine, I want to work. My leg’s fine now, you can barely tell anything was wrong with it. I’ll be okay.” You lean just a bit more towards him, kissing his cheek before sliding out of bed.

You aren’t exactly dating Joel.

Dating seems so trivial during an apocalypse, and you haven’t had any conversations about it. It just sort of happened. You woke up one day and neither one of you wanted to pull away from the other, and it progressed from there. He came home from a job one night and climbed into bed next to you, wrapping himself around you and he kissed your forehead before falling asleep. You still don’t know if he knew you were awake. The next night you’d taken his face in your hands and kissed him, just to see what he’d do, thankfully after a moment of shock he’d kissed you back. And it just became another unspoken part of your life with Joel. He kissed you goodbye when he left to go do the things he refused to tell you about in any detail, and you always greeted him with a kiss when he returned.

But you don’t have sex.

You want to ask him why but you hold your tongue, it’s possible you’re just being impatient or maybe he just wants to wait. So you don’t push it or bring it up because you like how things are with him.

The word boyfriend is not a word that suits Joel.

He isn’t your boyfriend, he’s just sort of, yours.

“Angel, please.” He continues his griping as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Joel, please.” You repeat back at him, trying to mimic his low tone.

“I’m bein’ serious. Things have gotten bad out there recently, too much FEDRA bullshit.”

“It’s always been bad and I’ve always managed, I’ll be fine.” You pull one of his shirts out of the closet, slipping it on, starting to button it as he makes his way to the end of the bed.

“Can we at least talk about this?” He rests his elbows on his knees as he hunches over. The morning haze on his face is gone and is replaced by the stern scowl you’re used to.

“There isn’t anything to talk about. I’ll be careful, there’s nothing to worry about, I’ll see you tonight.” After digging through the dresser drawers you eventually find your only pair of jeans. Once your boots are laced you walk back over to him, standing between his legs and taking his face in your hands.

Staring down into his surprisingly gentle eyes, so dark that in the dim morning light they look pitch black.

God he’s pretty.

Even with that stupid pout of his.

“I’ll see you tonight.” You lean down, placing a kiss on his forehead before pulling away only to be stopped when his grip on your waist tightens.

“Just- wait.” You’re about to push him away with a laugh but his voice cracks just enough to make your smile drop.

You start to speak in a soft tone but you only get one word out. “Joel…”

“Please- I just- I can’t let you go out there and sign up for that shit. There’s jobs that aren’t dangerous, simple stuff.”

“Those jobs pay a few cards at best, hon. I can’t wear your clothes forever, I need new underwear, socks, all sorts of things. And I want to contribute around here, I’ll be okay, I promise.” You push the mess of hair falling across his forehead back as you stare down at him.

He looks so genuinely upset already and you haven’t even left yet, he’s making this far more difficult than you thought it’d be. “I won’t be able to do anything if I don’t know you’re safe. It’s dangerous for both of us, I can’t be distracted like that.” You sigh, long and loud as you drop your hands to your sides.

The more you think about it the more it makes sense. He really does worry too much, and even if you don’t know exactly what he does for work, you know it’s dangerous.

Maybe it won’t be so bad.

“Okay.” You groan.

“You’ll stay?” The corners of his mouth start to raise a bit.

“I’ll do the safer jobs.” The hint of a smile that had been on his face dissipates. “It’s a compromise. You can’t always get everything you want.”

“Fine, come right home after.”

“I will.” With one more kiss he finally lets you go.

So, at Joel’s request, you sign up for the easy jobs.

They’re boring, and generally sort of terrible, and they pay the least, but Joel doesn’t make any further arguments about it. So you keep signing up for them. Typically it’s childcare, or filing documents for FEDRA, or working in the entry level food processing jobs.

Boring, boring, jobs that involve standing around and doing nothing or wrangling kids who don’t deserve to grow up in a place like this. You hate the look on their little faces, they always look too grown up for their ages.

But you put up with it, because at the end of the day you get to go home to Joel, Joel who seems to be in significantly higher spirits ever since you’ve agreed to those specific jobs. So you make it work. He makes it worth the banality of it all, at the end of your first week back to work he surprised you with a large paper bag, grinning like you’d never seen him before. When you unfolded the crumpled bag you were greeted with a mess of fabric, different colors and textures. You poured the contents onto the bed and immediately realized what he’d gotten you. Bras, panties, socks, and two pairs of jeans. It must’ve cost him a fortune and your eyes began to water immediately. You had wrapped your arms around him, barely letting go of him for the rest of the night.

After that it got even easier, eventually you got used to it.

You learned to live with the terrible jobs, and if you wanted anything you couldn’t afford with your meager savings Joel always managed to get it for you, even if you hadn’t told him you’d wanted it in the first place.

You probably would have stayed like that forever if you hadn’t started taking the long way home. Weeks had passed before it happened, you had grown comfortable, vulnerable. Joel always made sure you felt safe and you let your guard down just long enough for something to happen.

Joel had left early that morning, telling you that he was gonna be late, before he kissed you, he was out the door before the sun came up.

Whenever Joel told you he would be late you took the long way home. Winding back alleys that were mostly empty that always led back to the apartment building. It was just a treat for yourself, something to do to fill time that would be spent at home, waiting for him.

You never had any issues or alterations.

Until that afternoon.

Joel will be late.

So the second your shift is over you take the handful of cards and make your way through the city. And just like you’ve done every other time, you look behind you every once and a while but not nearly as much as you should. Because of this, you don’t see him until it’s too late.

It’s a younger man, probably a year or two older than you at most peering around the last corner you turned. Once he knows he’s been seen his pace quickens and instinctively you do the same.

“On the ground!” The second you hear it you pray it’s for someone else, it has to be, you’ve done nothing wrong. You walk faster, hoping to avoid what could be a messy confrontation when the sound of boots slamming on the pavement rushes towards you and you’re forced up against the wall of the alley.

In your peripheral you catch the white text against the black of his uniform.

FEDRA.

Your knees are kicked from under you as he pins your arms behind your back, the force at which your head hits the stone has you dizzy as you try to catch your breath. Too much is happening too quickly, when you finally feel like you can use your voice the wind is knocked out of you as you feel him hit you in the side, hard enough to have you wondering if he broke a rib. The force of the hit makes your knees crumble completely as the officer lets you fall, only giving you enough time to get to your hands and knees before his boot slams into your stomach knocking you onto your side.

Finally, when you roll over onto your back you get a clear look at him. He looks like your average FEDRA officer, the only thing out of place is the unsure look on his face. Your ears are ringing so you barely make out what he says, all you catch is something about thinking you were someone else, before he turns and leaves as if it never happened.

Leaving you alone to clutch your stomach and wonder what just happened, and what you did to deserve that.

You’d never heard of random attacks from FEDRA before. Maybe in other zones, but the city has always been calm as far as that goes. Maybe things really did get worse while your leg was healing.

Joel was right.

That’s all you can think about as you stumble to get to your feet, everything hurts but now is not the time to assess your wounds, you need to get home before something else happens. You manage to hobble up the stairs of the building, nearly collapsing by the time you opened the door.

You feel so stupid.

Joel was right.

It isn’t safe out there, at least not for you. No one fucks with Joel, no one attacks him on the street because they’re afraid of him. No ones afraid of you.

It’s a long couple of hours after that.

Mostly a lot of berating yourself as you try to take in the extent of the damage.

Surprisingly it seems to mostly be surface level. Sure, you’re going to bruise pretty bad and your face got scraped up on the stones but nothing permanent seems to have been inflicted.

Once you’ve showered and slipped into an old shirt of his and a pair of panties you climb into bed, wanting this day to just be over, but you know it isn’t. Right on schedule you hear the lock click as Joel steps through the front door, you hide your face in your pillow.

“What are you still doin’ up? It’s almost midnight.” His voice is a low whisper as you hear the familiar sounds of him kicking off his boots and setting down his things. You hear the outer layer of his clothing hit the floor, you told him a while ago you thought it was gross that he slept in the clothes he wore all day. He started sleeping in his undershirt and boxers after that. “You okay, Darlin’?” The bed shifts as he sits beside you and the second you turn and look at him his jaw twitches. “Christ… what the hell happened? Who did this to you?” He’s managing to stay mostly calm but you’re already worried he’s going to blow.

“It’s nothing, I just had an issue with an officer on my way-“

“This is not nothing.” He’s already fussing with your face as you take his hands and move them away from you.

“Joel-“

“Tell me what happened.” It’s a command and you’re too tired to fabricate something, and for the first time in a while, you’re afraid.

So you tell him exactly how it happened. And before you realize it’s happening you’re sniffling, a part of you feels like you’re about to be scolded for this but he only nods, never interrupting you until you’ve finished.

Your vision’s blurry with tears when you look up at him, the weight of being attacked starts to weigh heavy as you realize just how lucky you were that that was all that happened. And then you say the words he’s been waiting to hear.

“You were right, Joel.”

“I’m sorry, angel. I should have been there to protect you.” He holds his arms open and you don’t hesitate as you lean forward into him. You do your best to hold it together as he lays you down before clicking off the lamp and pulling you back against him. He softly scratches your back, kissing the top of your head as he does. It’s silent for a few more minutes until he suddenly whispers into the darkness. “Tell me you’ll stay here from now on.”

“Joel, I-“

“No more going out there without me. You’ll stay safe right here, no one can hurt you here, not while I’m around.” You open your mouth to argue again but stop yourself.

He’s right.

Now that you’ve calmed down you know that you’re lucky to even be alive. You don’t know why you were attacked but you know it could happen again, and there are worse things than being beaten.

No one would hurt you here, not with Joel around.

“Stay here, angel.” He murmurs, softer this time.

Joel is right.

“Okay.”

He isn’t beside you when you wake up, your hands searching through the cold sheets seeking his warmth. He had mentioned something as you were falling asleep about an early morning supply run but you had hoped to say goodbye before he left, you wanted to make him breakfast. As you get ready to roll back over and sleep a bit more you’re startled into an upright position.

“You should watch where you’re flying, angel.” You bite back a shriek as Tess’s voice comes from the direction of the kitchen.

“Christ, you scared the hell out of me!” Your heart skips a beat as you reach over to the nightstand, pulling on the little chain that turns the lamp on. “Joel’s not even here, what are you doing?” You don’t like the idea of being alone with her, she doesn’t come around much anymore, you used to see her in the hall on her way here constantly, but after you moved in she stopped.

You do your best not to flinch as she makes her way over to you, standing at the foot of the bed.

“I’m not here to hurt you, there’s no need for theatrics.” You hadn’t realized you were shaking so badly until she said it, it takes a conscious effort but you manage to stop it for the most part. “I’m just here to talk.”

“About what?”

“About you and Joel.”

You don’t want to talk about that with Tess. You don’t want to talk to Tess at all, she frightens you and she knows it.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.” This time when you flinch she hesitates. For a brief moment the facade of a woman who fears nothing drops, and you swear you see sympathy in her eyes. “Joel is dangerous, you need to be careful with him or you’re going to get hurt.”

Is that why she’s here? To try and break you up?

“He won’t hurt me, he cares about me.” You wish you sounded more sure of yourself.

“You’re right, at least for now.” She flips her pocket knife open, ever so carefully running the blade along the underside of her nails, scraping away any dirt or grime she so happens to find, you fight the urge to flinch again. When she finally looks back up at you she takes a moment, examining your expression as if this was an interrogation. “Being loved by him is the worst thing that could possibly happen to a girl like you.”

You can’t help but scoff, now look who’s being theatrical. “A girl like me?”

“Good, too good. And fragile.” She points at you with the blade before returning to her nails. “He’ll do anything to keep you safe, even if it means breaking you into tiny little pieces, just so you’ll fit in a box he can lock.”

You’re about to call her a liar but you hesitate. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You deserve to know.”

“Okay, but why? You don’t even like me.”

“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you.”

Fair enough.

“I think you should go.” You don’t want to hear anything else. You don’t believe anything she’s saying and the entire conversation makes you feel sick. She doesn’t know anything about your relationship with him, and she clearly doesn’t know anything about Joel. He’d do anything for you, you don’t think you’ve ever been taken care of before you met him.

“What do you know about glue traps?” She doesn’t make any effort to leave so you decide to just answer her with a sigh.

“Like the ones you use to catch mice? I don’t know, Joel buys them sometimes.”

She points her knife in the direction of the corner of the room, it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. Sure enough, in the corner of the room, peeking out from under his dresser, is the faint outline of something on the floor, you’d never noticed it before.

“It’s the worst kind of way to catch a mouse.” She stands, walking across the room and peeling up the trap with the edge of her blade before snapping it shut and taking the edge of the trap between her fingers, dragging it across the floor to the middle of the room so you had a clear view of it. “They’ll do anything to get out.” The tip of her boot nudges the corner of the trap, now that it’s been dragged into the lamp light you can see exactly what she wanted to show you. Two things are in the bloody trap. A mouse, barely alive, based on the way its chest rises and falls, and something else. A caterpillar maybe?

No.

A leg. A bloody mouse leg, on the edge of the trap.

“They’ll chew off their limbs, and peel off their own skin just to get out, the ones that manage to are lucky enough to bleed out somewhere else. The ones stuck in the trap though?” She nods down at the creature you now refuse to look at. “They’ve got it the worst. Suffocation, dehydration, the ones who try to peel off and can’t, bleed out, stuck in place.”

With a sudden crunch, her boot slams down on the trap. You watch, slack jawed, as she peels it off the sole before tossing it in the bin in the corner.

“I’d take a quick death over either of those.”

“I think you should leave. Now.” You try to sound authoritative but your voice trembles too much to sound anything but afraid.

“I heard you got caught up in some FEDRA business yesterday.” She starts again but you’ve had enough.

“Tess.” You manage to have a bit of sterness this time in your tone but it doesn’t seem to affect her much.

“Fine. I’ll leave. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You catch that sympathetic look one more time before she unlocks the door chain, twisting the doorknob before speaking one last time. “I noticed some of our inventory is missing, this is the only warning you’re gonna get about that. If you want shit like that just ask, I’m sure Joel would be more than happy to have another way to control you.” She doesn’t turn around when she says it, simply slamming the door and leaving. You have no clue what she’s talking about, but that isn’t the part of the conversation that sticks with you. All you can think about is that crunching sound.

So you avoided her after that, writing off her words as an act of jealousy.

Joel would never do anything to hurt you.

Of course you know better now. She was just like you, she had been in the glue trap herself when she tried to keep you from joining her, but you hadn’t listened, instead you’d fallen face first into Joel. And he wouldn't let you go without keeping some of you for himself.

i don't have a taglist anymore !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates on all fics !!

#lincolndjarin #fic : every now and then #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou joel #joel tlou #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic #joel x reader #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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starrysound · 2 months ago

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LADS Ramadan Headcanons

As I physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally cope with abstaining from horny posting this month, here are some Ramadan headcanons for the boys, both general and romantic And Ramadan Mubarak for all the fellow LaDS girlies who will also be partaking this month <3

Xavier:

He's the type to routinely leave the iftar prep for exactly 1 hour before iftar because he thinks he can totally do it in 1 hour (he can't) . But whether the food is edible is another story.

This means you eat out a lot more together (all according to his master plan).

You cannot get him to wake up for suhur if his life depended on it. He is raw dogging it. No suhur we die like men.

He will buy you 10 different Ramadan calendars, and they will all hang on your fridge

He's sleepier when he's hungry and you'll find him napping during the day and fully alert at night. He shifts like 10 different time zones.

He is 100 times more clingy and jealous while fasting. He has a hard time masking his emotions and will be wanting to spend every single moment with you.

You and him regularly have supermarket dates and end up buying everything because everything looks tastier while fasting.

Zayne:

Not only will he wake up for suhur but he will not let you sleep through suhur.

And it won't be a small suhur, it will be a full breakfast. You will start the fast with a healthy meal.

He has all the fun facts about the health benefits of fasting ready to go.

He makes sure you don't shock your body at iftar by reminding you not to stuff your face immediately after maghreb athaan. Instead he advises you to start with a small date and follow it with water.

He does not skip a beat even while fasting. He is operating at 100% and you could not even tell he's fasting.

Whips out the qatayef immediately after iftar. You cannot deny him his sweet treat after iftar even if you wanted to (and why would you want to do that, you monster?)

He's the model Muslim. Will pray taraweeh at the mosque every night, and he's the one to remind you when laylat el qadr is so you can get your prayers in.

Rafayel:

Will be so grumpy about it but he cannot skip suhur or he will be 200% more irritable during the day.

Surprisingly more productive because he's painting to distract himself from the hunger.

Most likely to ask you 20 times a day "How long until sunset?" And he's upset no matter what your answer is. "Four whole hours? That's literally torture. What if I die before then?"

He greatly enjoys cooking together with you and getting the table ready for iftar. He treats each iftar like a fancy dinner party, arranging the table very artfully.

His retail therapy gets worse when he's hungry. He will look at his empty online shopping cart and go "Just one more thing. As a treat. I've earned it."

His house will be THE MOST decorated for Ramadan. He will pull out all the stops -- lights, streamers, banners, signs -- literally everything he can display, he will display.

Sylus:

Has to suffer not only your whining but Luke and Kieran's whining about how hungry you are and how far away sunset is, and does it with so much patience.

He is already a night owl, so he's relatively unaffected. His meals tend to coincide with Iftar and suhur already. He even wakes you up for suhur so you can eat together before he goes to bed.

That being said, he would not leave you alone to prepare iftar. He will absolutely wake up earlier to help you prep if you need it.

He's most likely to make sure you are completely pampered while fasting, not lifting a single finger--even going as far as hiring an entire staff to tend to your daily tasks for you, so you can put your feet up whether you like it or not.

Struggles the most to keep it halal during the month of Ramadan. He lives by the "what happens while the sun is down doesn't count" loophole. Onychinus isn't gonna run itself, after all.

He has Mephisto bug you after sunset to make sure you are drinking enough water because he will NOT suffer his beautiful and amazing partner passing out from dehydration while doing their intensive job as a deepspace hunter.

Caleb:

He doesn't technically skip suhur, but he also stays up until before dawn, has a snack, and then goes to bed. He's part of the "chronically sleep deprived during Ramadan" gang.

He's cooking all your favorite foods for you for iftar. The smells coming from the kitchen just before iftar are hard to resist.

Does not miss a gym day even while fasting. His stamina seems to be supernatural.

With all the time spent waiting to eat, you and Caleb are able to breeze through your backlog of movies and shows you've been wanting to binge-watch together.

He is racing you to the mosque. Praying taraweeh is a competition and he intends to win.

He WILL brag every single day about how he's not even hungry and how fasting is a breeze for him. But only because it annoys you and he thinks you're cute when you're pissed off at him.

#i know its LATE we are one week into ramadan but would you believe i started writing this one week before ramadan?#i struggled with sylus the most bc he literally is only awake at night bro is gaming ramadan at this point #love and deepspace #loveanddeepspace #lnds headcanons #lads headcanons #lads sylus #lads zayne #lads caleb #lads xavier #lads rafayel #lnds caleb #lnds rafayel #lnds sylus #lnds zayne #lnds xavier #paptalk

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year ago

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Duchess - A Sean Wallace/Sex Worker!Reader One Shot Story.

This mans has me feeling a certain way. Feral. So yes, you get to enjoy it, too!

Words - 1,810

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Sean Wallace is a man who thrives on the exertion of control, in every aspect of his life. Every facet is subject to meticulous planning and detail, his time valuable. If you are in his life, you serve to him a purpose, otherwise you are merely a waste of time he could spend being productive elsewhere. He enjoys the finely tuned machine that is building his life with those who serve him well in a professional capacity, and this is exactly why he sees you twice weekly.

“I do not entertain the notion of dating or relationships. They're much too complicated. Way too time consuming.”

He told you this upon your first meet, when you inquired why he sought the services of a high-class escort.

“Trust me, you are exactly what I am searching for.”

You aim to please, and god, what a pleasure it is to please him. He’s young, he’s powerful and he’s incredibly handsome. And rich, wealthy enough to afford the high price tag attached to the services you provide. And goodness, how the man can fuck. Sometimes, you often think it should be you paying him for the way he so expertly pounds you into your bed.

Rarely do you enjoy yourself so honestly with a client, have the pleasure you give to him matched in such delicious reciprocation. With Sean, he never deviates from being anything short of an incredible lover.

‘Wear black tonight. You know I like you best in black.’

You tingle with anticipation at reading his text, knowing you only have mere hours to wait until your favourite client will arrive at your Wharfside apartment.

Once your makeup and grooming routine has been executed pristinely, black Victoria’s Secret underwear donning your freshly bathed body, a black Gucci dress chosen, and perfume spritzed strategically, you are ready. He doesn’t keep you waiting.

“Good evening, duchess.” Those words, delivered upon a silky-smooth, cut-glass accent causes heat to rise over your skin, Sean entering your apartment, waiting for you to lead him through to the bedroom. He always lets you lead. Why? So that his hands can wander over your body as your walk, appreciating the swing of your hips, the way the black cloth hugs your curves, to lay kisses upon the back of your neck as he closes the space between you.

Feeling the heat of his body against your back has a flurry of heat gathering between your legs, your dress eased down, his strong hands smoothing over the fabric of your underwear. “You look sensational, as always.” With his mouth at your neck, you feel mindless already, but not so much that you don’t notice him discreetly place a smooth, white envelope upon the shelf beside the bedroom door, your fee within for the transaction you would happily give him for free, should this not be your chosen profession.

It never feels like work with him, though.

You turn to him, his eyes a chilling freeze of blue, the angles of his face shadowed in the low light of the room. Some sex workers insist on no kissing, feeling such an exchange too intimate. You’ve always thought that to be nonsense, taking into mind the intimacy of penetration. A man puts his cock in you, but his lips may not meet yours?

No. Not in your bedroom.

Your mouths join in sensual exploration, his tongue rolling against yours as your fingers begin to work deftly to undress him, revealing the utter grandeur of his body. Lithe muscles concealed within the expanse of pale, freckle flecked skin delight your eyes, your tongue circling his nipple before you sit at the foot of your bed.

His thumb trails your lip as you look up at him, hands unfastening his belt, stripping him nude, perhaps the most impressive part of him already hard and waiting for your attentions. undoubtedly, he has the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen, and in your profession, you’ve seen many.

“How much extra would I have to pay you, to not use a condom?”

“You couldn’t afford it.”

“I’ve never been fond of those who presume they can dictate my finances. Will another five hundred suffice?”

“No.”

“Seven fifty?”

“No.”

“A thousand, and a letter from my doctor confirming a clean bill of health, STI wise?”

Never let it be said that Sean Wallace is not a skilled negotiator, that conversation between you many months ago the only reason why when your tongue runs in a slow, firm lick from the base to tip of his cock, there’s no latex barrier between them. He shudders, a breathy exclamation fluttering over his full lips as he feels the warmth of your mouth encase him, sliding down over his thick shaft, his fingers trailing your scalp as they comb through your hair.

With your mouth working in slow, wet tease and your fingernails gently trailing up and down his back, you have him winding tight in no time, his groans deep and full bodied. “You always look so very pretty, when you have my cock in your mouth.”

Watching you sucking upon him with such expert aplomb, his eyes the fall closed, his chest beginning to heave as his breaths shallow, the thick bulk of him twitching against your tongue. “Not that I do not adore your mouth, duchess, but for now, there is a place upon you that I wish to put mine even more.”

Sparks of anticipation flicker through you as he pushes you back onto the bed, his body covering yours, hands roaming as he begins to scatter kisses across your neck. His exploration is slow, careful, his mouth laying kisses to every part of your body revealed from the removal of your underwear, the heat of his skin searing. His mouth takes time to lower, his tongue swirling your navel as his hands bracket your waist, lowering, lowering.

You gasp softly, his tongue meeting the velvet of your cunt, dragging your slit firmly. A few more long, slow licks skim your folds, the hot roll of his tongue settling upon your clit, a radiance of pleasure blooming deep within you. Some men have no clue what on earth to do with a woman where pleasing her with their mouth is concerned; Sean is not one of them.

Closing his mouth around you, he sucks at you, pupils inking into the blue as he feels the honey of your cunt bathing his tongue, a grunt welling his throat, hands grasped firmly upon your hips. You can see him smiling around you, watching as you throw your head back and cry out, knowing your performance isn’t amped up for effect. It’s all him.

Your cries continue to sound the air in blissful sonnet, his tongue fluttering over your clit, featherlight licks making it swell, beating harder and faster, then back to gentle as the pleasure sears right to your marrow. You feel it settling deep, your core throbbing, purring with delight as your fingers skim through his hair, your back arching off the bed as you writhe against the heaven that is his tongue.

Wet heat works your bud with the kind of skill that leaves you breathless, fire chasing frost through your veins, the feel of his neatly trimmed beard prickling at where you are soft and soaking for him offering delicious friction. He pauses, teasing at you with his fingers before they push inside, hooking, his lips planting hot kisses against your inner thigh, watching you begin to fall apart for him.

The pleasure sparks like a flint strike, those little illuminations skittering over your nerves as he returns his tongue to you, gentleness gone as he lays keen, unrelenting licks across your clit. Pure ebullience beams brightly, your panting ascension chased by the punch of his fingers within the wet clasp of your cunt and the rapid flickers offered by a tongue that does not cease until you’re cresting hard for him.

Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, thighs skimming his face as your flames catch against his edges, your release a glittered explosion that leaves you breathless and hungry to be parted around his cock. Of course, he reads your need, pushing your legs apart before sinking himself into you, your walls flexing as he splits you wide, mouth closing around your nipple to suck keenly, his cock bottoming out and dragging back so deliciously slowly, you feel on the verge of tears.

Kissing the whimpers from your lips, he holds you beneath him, moaning against your tongue as he pushes forth again, gliding through the soaking mess of your cunt. He fills you entirely, mouth at your neck as strong snaps from his hips shock you, pulling out entirely, teasing you with the promise of him, chuckling at your frustration as he nibbles the soft skin of your throat.

“Does the duchess crave it, hmm?”

“Mmm,” you purr, stroking his handsome face, watching him catch your fingers between his lips and suck. “She always does when it’s you giving it.”

He moans a laugh, kissing you. “Correct answer.” The silken glide of him has you lost in ecstasy, his mouth touring the other side of your neck, tongue flickering where your pulse flutters madly, filling and emptying you steadily.

The rhythmic, contained pace is not set to last, the need with him coiling like an angry serpent as he gives each thrust with voracity, his short nails digging into your thighs as he sits back on his heels, watching how good it looks as his cock fills and enters you rapidly.

He arrows you thoroughly, every last inch of him sinking into the wet clutch of your cunt as you open for him, panting hard, your moans filling the room as he has you spread and helpless before him, fucking you like a jackhammer. He slows then, thumb languidly swirling over your clit, each thrust more contained, dragging sparks as he scrapes your walls, bending to suck your nipples in turn with an aroused grumble.

That slowness is abandoned once more, Sean railing you into the bed, loving the way you wail for him, hand stroking your cheek before he grasps your jaw in a strong grip, feeding you his thumb as he looks at you with uncontained lust. It escalates sharply, consummation rushing through you as lightning flickers at the base of your spine, striking home as he closes his eyes tightly and moans gutturally, spilling into you, thick ropes of cum warming your fluttering walls further.

You lie breathless against one another, knowing that all he needs is a whiskey and half an hour, and he shall be all over you again.

And he’s the one paying you. What satisfying work it is to be on the sexual payroll of a man both criminal in the streets, and between the sheets.

#sean wallace #sean wallace fanfiction #sean wallace smut #gangs of london #gangs of london fanfiction #gangs of london fanfic #sean wallace fanfic #sean wallace imagine #joe cole

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multidimensionalguidance · 1 year ago

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SR Chart in-depth Analysis Part 1 🗝️

I thought it would be a good idea to write down an interpretation of how my 2024 SR chart might develop during this year, forget about it, and then revisit it during and/or at the end of the year! A fun experiment for me, even though I can honestly say that I've already been seeing the way it has been activating.

Note: please keep in mind I use sidereal and whole house system.

Libra ASC: this was the first thing that stood out to me when I saw the chart. I was already feeling an "upcoming glow up" vibe, and confirming it was hilarious. Even though Libra and Venusians in general are not just about appearance, they value aesthetics A LOT. I've already received comments on how my skin is looking amazing, and overall, just a lot of attention from others being thrown towards my appearance. So, aside from that more obvious aspect, I would say that this rising sign makes one feel more keen to developing and/or creating relationships of all kinds, meaning, that it is expected to become a tad more social during this year. Romantic relationships, creativity, arts, a need to be more diplomatic or neutral, and communication with others will become themes I will engage with a lot.

To give dept to this house, I pay attention to the where Libra sits in my natal chart and where it goes on the SR chart, also, where the lord of the SR ASC sits (strength, aspects, etc.) in the chart.

Example: Libra sits in my 12th house, and becomes the rising sign for SR chart. This tells me that a lot of my subconscious patterns will become more noticeable, particularly for relationships, and that those matters that are usually hidden about me are now put on the spotlight. Now, it's very interesting that the lord of my SR ASC moves to the 12th house, so its like there will still be things that are still kept hidden. Knowing me, I will be content with spending time alone and/or in foreign places, so I don't mind. Venus is debilitated, and I'm assuming that keeping to myself will partly occur from difficulties with possible insecurities, being overly critical or focused on self reflecting. Themes of feeling unworthy, and healing it. A great amount of attention being placed towards looks could definitely make one feel uncomfortable or unsure of why you're receiving it so much, and if it has to do with superficial reasons it can makes you feel unseen, as if others ignore your depth.

Scorpio stellium 2nd house: a focus on transformations occuring around money, resources, values, face area, food or products consumed, luxury, comfort, sensuality, and romance. I would expect a highlight and plenty of motivation to pursue all of these topics, since the Sun sits there conjunct Mars. Scorpios move quietly and under the radar, so there will be lots of secrecy on how I will exercise my power/drive, and also on communications around how I'm making money or managing my finances. Money from others moving directly into my pockets from foreign matters, contracts, writing/communication (9H ruled by Mercury), networking, social media, creative pursuits, romantic partner (11H ruled by Sun), somehow losses that turn into gains, expenditure, spirituality, and foreign residence (12H ruled by Mercury). In general, major important upgrades to the way I relate to Venusian matters.

Sagittarius 3rd house: even if houses are empty in a natal or SR chart they still hold meaningful information, but will of course be felt less in comparison to the houses that have planets. I see that my mindset, near environment, and communication will be a lot about/with foreigners, spiritual topics, traveling, and philosophy. The ruler sits in the 7th house, so it will also be mixed with my romantic life (with a foreigner), business, contracts, and other type of close relationships.

Capricorn 4th house: I don't usually pay much attention to Pluto unless its close to ASC or inner planet (Sun, Moon, Venus) but I will now for the sake of giving more context. There could be a major change of residence occuring or renovations of some sort. Home environment could be a bit chaotic or under frequent changes. Part of Fortune also sits there, so all of those transformations might actually be aligned with blessings or for a better outcome. The ruler sits in the 5th house with the moon, so it will definitely make me feel anxious and emotionally restricted or numbed. Luckily, I've had enough experience with Saturnian energy, so I know how to work through it until I find balance.

Aquarius 5th house: as I already mentioned above, with Moon and Saturn conjunct here it is likely that I will be feeling as if my emotions are harder to access which could cause anxiety, creative blockages, frustrations, or depression. Definitely will incorporate lots of yoga, nature, and emotional regulating activities during this year to keep that on check.

Pisces 6th house: with Rahu sitting there, I could see that my attention will gravitate around how I incorporate work, daily routine, health, and exercise with spirituality, creative endeavors, and abstract thinking. I had already experience gut health issues and almost all of those topics shortly after my birthday, so I can see how wherever Rahu is placed in a SR chart, there is a lot of movement for good or worse. With the ruler of 6H going into the 5H, I could see how work and health matters could exacerbate my emotional challenges.

Aries 7th house: Jupiter is siting here, and even though it is retrograde, the functionality of the planet doesn't suddenly stop occuring. It makes Jupiter have a more inward expression if anything. There will most likely be expansion or growth of romantic suitors (specifically male, since its in Aries), contracts, business, relationships of all type of relationships being upgraded somehow, and in general lots of luck with interpersonal skills. Those with whom I develop close relationships will become like teacher, or enjoy providing protection to me. The ruler sits in the 2nd house conjunct with the Sun, so others will either expand my resources or simply have an influence in it. Since its with the sun, it should be beneficial or empowering.

Alllllriiiight, I shall stop here for now and release the 2nd part at another moment!

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whatsa-bi-as · 8 months ago

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light at the end of the tunnel

idolbf!Myung Jaehyun x GN!reader

plot; you write Jaehyun a poem to express how you feel

genre; fluff, established relationship

warnings; mentions reader is anxious, suggests that the reader has experienced mental health struggles at the end

word count; 0.8k

proofread; nope

networks; @kflixnet and @k-labels

Writing is something that you use to deal with emotions that feel like too much to handle. It’s a way for you to put the feelings swimming in your head into something that makes sense.

It makes sense, you were always better at literature, your strength was in essays and words rather than numbers. Poetry and books found a way to hit the parts of your soul no one but you could ever reach and it was a feeling you welcomed with open arms.

Then you met Jaehyun and all these feelings came flooding to the surface. None are particularly bad, bittersweet more than anything, he’s home in a person. He makes you feel safe in a way that no one else has ever been able to.

That being said, there were so many thoughts in your head that you had to get out. After seeing him one day you lay on your bed and thought about how happy you are with him by your side, how you’re so proud of him achieving his dream, just how great it was that you’re able to call him yours. You just had to write it all down.

Normally you’d write on your laptop, watching as words filled the page as your fingers tapped on the keys, but as the screen came to life and the light filled your room it felt wrong. The poetry that you thought was the perfect encapsulation of love wasn’t written on a screen, so why would you put these feelings on an electronic page when paper felt better?

So you went over to your desk, flipping through folders and notebooks for a page that wasn’t covered in notes or work, until you found it. It was a notebook covered with flowers that Jaehyun had bought you after you had told him about your love for writing. What better place to write your thoughts for the boy?

It didn’t take you long to write it. A few changes in phrasing and pacing but not even an hour after you had begun you were left happy with the final product. You want him to read it but the thought of him doing that in front of you left you anxious so you decide to sneak it into his bag the next time you see him.

You take him to a coffee shop not too far from your place and while he’s distracted with what to order you slip the poem into the main part of the bag, watching as it falls into the folds of the hoodie that he had brought with him.

The date went as they normally do, you sat and talked for hours just enjoying eachothers company for the few hours that you could spend together. After you went your separate way the anxiety began to set in. What if he doesn’t like it? What if he thinks it’s weird? He’s your boyfriend, why are you sneaking love letters like a schoolgirl with a crush?

Your thoughts circled for an hour, going round in your head like clothes in a washing machine until your phone rang through the soft music playing in the living room.

“Baby did you want me to cry? ‘Cause that poem you wrote has had me in tears since I got home.”

The breath you let out was one you didn’t even know you were holding.

“So you liked it?”

“Liked it?! I’m having it framed, I’m getting tattooed! I want to keep it with me forever. It's adorable!”

You can hear his smile through the phone and a similar one breaks out across your face.

“I’m glad you like it. Maybe I’ll write you another one.”

“You better do. You’re an amazing writer and I love you.”

“I love you too Jae”.

Ending the call you head back to your room to find the piece you had written the night before. Reading it under your breath you understand why Jaehyun loves it so much. A postmodern style poem, although you’re pretty sure he didn’t notice that, that captured those bittersweet feelings that you had.

"I used to live in a dark tunnel

My eyes got used to it

And I felt safe sitting there

In the inky black

And then I met you

The light that you brought was blinding

When you smiled it was with a stream of colour

I never thought I’d see again

But I was never scared

Not of the changes,

Not of what would come

Because I had you

We sit and talk for hours

We dance in my living room

And we sing in your kitchen

And I welcome what is to come

Because I have you

I never thought that the tunnel would end

And if I could tell 18 year old me that it would

I don’t know if they'd believe me

But I suppose that’s because

They haven't met you"

#kflixnet #k labels #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor fanfic #jaehyun fluff #myung jaehyun #myung jaehyun fluff #myungjae x reader #boynextdoor drabbles

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 3 months ago

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Being Roger's sister and falling for Rayleigh would involve...

Silvers Rayleigh x Gol!reader. Modern AU. Featuring aroace icon Gol D. Roger! (moodboard)

NSFW. Description of pregnancy scare, mentions of past cheating and verbal abuse.

*****

💜 You and Roger are twins, and have been extremely close since childhood, to the extent that people commented that you were the two halves of a single beating heart; always ready to pull the other towards a new adventure or danger, but also to support your sibling and defend them with your life. You love Roger more than anyone else in the world; he's such an important part of your life that without him you wouldn't be yourself anymore, and you know without the need to ask that your more extroverted brother, so at ease in his own skin and able to make friends with practically anyone he wishes to, feels the same for you. As long as the other breathes, neither of you will ever feel alone.

💜 Your relationship remains solid and affectionate even after Roger decides, with your complete support, to relocate to the distant Loguetown to accept a prestigious work offer. You and your brother call and write to each other every day, but you do miss each other, and the few days Roger comes back home every year for Christmas are not enough. You are both adults, perfectly able to live a productive and happy life without the need for your sibling to hold your hand and intervene to help at the first sign of trouble, but you both feel you’d be much happier if you could spend your lives side by side like you did during your youth.

💜 “You should move in with me, so we can spend as much time together as we want. You wouldn't even have to look for a place to stay, since my apartment has a second bedroom. The company you work at has just opened a branch office in Loguetown, right? Why don't you request a transfer?” your brother suggests one night during yet another hours-long video chat. You agree it's an excellent idea, and on the next day you talk to your supervisor asking to be reassigned to the new office in Loguetown. It takes four long months, but finally your request is accepted, and you happily pack your bags for the move.

💜 Roger is, as you expected, elated to have you moving in with him. He meets you at the train station, his beloved straw hat as usual on his head, and you waste no time before embracing, both happy to be reunited. “It’s so good that you're here; I missed you very much.” “I missed you too, Roger; it'll be like the old times!” Your brother accompanies you to the apartment -which is less chaotic and untidy than you expected from the house of a single man; well, a little less at least…- and then he has to leave to return to work.

💜 “It's fine; I'll get settled and then we can have dinner together when you return.” you propose, and Roger kisses you one last time before leaving you alone. Since you'll only start working at your new office in two days and are therefore not in a hurry, you decide to take your time unpacking in your new room and then cooking dinner for you and your brother, for the first time in years. “But first, I'll take a bath; I really need it, after a whole day spent on the train.”

💜 Half an hour later you feel much better, clean and relaxed - so relaxed, in fact, that while you enjoyed the warmth of the water filling the tub, you didn’t hear the sound of the apartment’s door opening and then closing again. You have just finished drying yourself and put your panties on, and are just retrieving your bra from the pile of clean clothes on the shelf when the bathroom’s door opens, and you find yourself face to face with a man you have never seen before, who stares back at you, slack-jawed, a telltale blush rising on his face as his eyes fall on your almost completely naked body. There is a brief but poignant moment during which you’re both too taken aback to react; then: “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

💜 This is your first meeting with Rayleigh, your brother’s best friend who Roger allowed to use his bathroom since water had been turned off in his own apartment, and who, while well aware that his friend’s sister was moving in, had completely forgotten you would arrive today and would therefore have to use that very bathroom as well. A memorable first meeting, that’s for sure.

💜 Of course, you know all about Rayleigh already; he and Roger have met soon after your brother’s move to Loguetown, and the two were immediately thick as thieves, to the point that your brother seemed physically unable not to mention his new best friend at least once every time the two of you spoke over the phone or he wrote you an email. “Rayleigh told me this; Rayleigh and I did that.” and so on; you heard so much about him that it was almost as if you had actually met the man in person. You were happy Roger, who was missing all his friends back home and you above all, had met someone he liked and found companionship in, even though part of you couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of this man who had become almost as close to your brother as you were. “I can’t wait to introduce the two of you; you’ll love Rayleigh, I’m sure.” Roger had told you a week ago as you discussed the details of your move to Loguetown; he was more right than any of you could imagine at the time, even though it would take you some time to realise it.

💜 "I am so sorry; I should have knocked, but I had completely forgotten you would come today…” Rayleigh admits when you meet him in the living room, decently dressed once again; he seems sincerely apologetic, and you don’t want to start on the wrong foot with a man who is so important for your brother and you’ll have to meet regularly from now on. “It’s fine, I know it was an accident; let’s just forget about it.” you propose, and then you leave Rayleigh to his bath. Later, you tell him he’s welcome to stay and wait for Roger, since he should be back soon, but he kindly assures you he’ll see your brother at work tomorrow as usual, and that the two of you should have the evening to ourselves. “I’ll see you soon, Roger’s sister.” “I have a name, you know…” “Sorry, sorry; I’ll see you soon, (name).”

💜 By the time Roger is home, you have finished unpacking and even prepared his favourite meal for dinner in celebration. “So you have met Rayleigh, eh? Isn’t he the best?” he asks, completely unbothered by the fact that his friend’s first impression of you was your almost naked body; Roger is asexual, and not only he has never been interested in a relationship of his own, but sometimes he seems to forget romance and sex even exist “By the way, this tastes amazing, (name); I missed your cooking.” “Only my cooking? I’m so disappointed…” “You know what I mean; it’s good that you’re here, I hope you’ll like living in Loguetown.” You share a smile, both well aware that you would be fine living anywhere as long as you and your brother are together and can count on each other.

💜 The first weeks of your stay in Loguetown are hectic but happy. You get settled in your new office, meet your new colleagues, and spend as much time with Roger as you can; your brother accompanies you to explore the city, introduces you to his friends, and does his best not to fall behind on the chores you are now sharing. The years you have spent apart disappear like a bad dream upon awakening; what you shared in your youth has persisted, and you are still the two halves of a single heart, each other’s rock and shield, confidante and supporter. Having your brother as a roommate is not always simple -he doesn’t always clean after himself, discards clothes almost completely when it’s hot and snores loud enough to be heard through the walls- but you genuinely enjoy spending time with him, and happily let him pull you along on his adventures, like you did when you were kids.

💜 And then, obviously, there’s Rayleigh, who as you expected becomes a fixture of your life. Roger, while more clever than some people give him credit for, is sometimes too generous and kind for his own good, which is something people try to exploit, and you’re immediately reassured by the clear evidence Rayleigh is not that kind of person - far from it. The friendship between him and Roger is firm and sincere, Rayleigh’s more reflective personality balancing your brother’s bursts of energy; he’s clever, friendly, polite, not the sort of person who ignores you when he comes visiting Roger - which is something some of your brother’s friends back home did, and that you highly disliked. Without the need to discuss and make plans, the three of you reach an equilibrium: Roger spends some time with you, some time with his best friend, and some with both, you and Rayleigh soon finding out you naturally get along, genuinely enjoying each other’s company rather than enduring it for Roger’s sake.

💜 In time, you come to consider each other a good friend, without, at least at first, considering the possibility of your relationship developing in a different direction. Rayleigh is attractive; anyone who is not completely blind would easily see it, and what’s more, he’s exactly the sort of man you usually appreciate: tall and strong, a nice smile, endowed with the sort of quiet confidence in himself that brings others to instinctively respect him and at the same time to feel at ease in his presence. You have the chance to see firsthand how strong he is one day, after you have twisted your ankle in a small domestic accident, and he insists on picking you up -as easily as if you weighed nothing- to carry you up the stairs that lead to the apartment. Sometimes, when the three of you squeeze on the sofa in front of the TV, you can’t help but feel the warmth of his body through his arm or thigh pressed against yours; he’s not doing anything improper, but that contact feels undeniably intimate, enough for you to have to stand and retreat to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face to hide the fact that you are blushing.

💜 Rayleigh, in turn, is acutely aware of how attractive you are; how could he not, given your memorable first meeting, an image he couldn’t forget even if he wanted to? (and he doesn’t.) He’s deeply ashamed of his blunder, even though you have readily forgiven him, so he tries his best not to dwell on it, but at times, when his hand touches yours as he passes you the remote, or you bump into each other at the door, the memory of your naked body fills his mind, and then he has to quickly excuse himself to take a few deep breaths. Picking you up to carry you up the stairs brings you close enough he can perceive your scent, a nameless, pleasant smell that makes him dizzy for a moment, or maybe it’s the sensation of how soft your body feels in his arms. He knows you’re not actively flirting with him, and that is what makes him so acutely aware of you, of the way you sometimes sway your hips gently when you’re busy at the kitchen counter, as if dancing to a music only you can hear, of how good your legs look when the summer heat forces you to wear shorts and even sometimes -the first time Rayleigh’s heart leaps in his throat- a miniskirt.

💜 Your secret feelings for each other develop more or less simultaneously, and at first neither has the courage to fully confront them - specifically, to consider the possibility they concern the heart as well as other parts of the body. You are both adults, a very handsome man and a very beautiful woman, and you spend a lot of time together; it’s probably natural that you developed an attraction for each other. That’s all that it is, an attraction, a superficial, merely physical impulse that will no doubt fade after a while, and that you better ignore, lest it make things awkward between you, and even more importantly with Roger. You are both confident your brother wouldn’t mind the two of you dating, maybe he would be even happy for you, but what if you were to break up, or to fight? Neither of you wants to force Roger to side with one of you against the other, but splits can be very messy, and the last thing both you and Rayleigh want is to ruin the deep relationship Roger has with the other. So no, it’s better to leave things as they are, and keep your impulses to yourselves; you work much better as friends anyway.

💜 What neither of you knows is that Roger, who you both are sure is in the dark regarding your feelings and desperately want to keep it that way, is perfectly aware of what is going on. He does, after all, knows both you and his best friend better than anyone else, and while completely uninterested in matters like romance and sex himself, has immediately noticed your growing attraction to each other, the way you immediately light up every time Rayleigh walks in the room, and how he smiles to himself when he looks at you. It’s clear that you like each other, and while Roger had never considered the possibility before, simply hoping you and Rayleigh would become friends so that the three of you could spend time together, he’s immediately enthusiastic about the idea. He’s been worried about you, who after a disastrous relationship a few years ago with a man who didn’t deserve you have sworn to remain celibate for the rest of your life, and also knows Rayleigh is not fully satisfied with his current situation of a new woman every month; the two of you getting together would solve both problems.

💜 And so Roger decides to act as a Cupid for the two people he loves the most, creating the right circumstances for the two of you to get together. He has already found the perfect opportunity; a new jazz bar has just opened in town, a type of establishment he knows both you and Rayleigh are fans of, even though he’s not. So one night, as the three of you are eating pizza on the sofa in front of the TV, he offhandedly mentions he has heard about this new place in town, a jazz bar, and why don’t we go take a look sometime? Both you and Rayleigh are immediately enthusiastic, as well as intrigued to discover you have similar musical tastes, and so plans are made for the three of you to visit the jazz bar over the week-end.

💜 Then, on the day you had planned to go, Roger starts complaining he is not feeling well, and even enlists his friend Crocus, a doctor, to tell you he’s sick - nothing to be alarmed about, just a bit of a cold, but he better remain home for a couple days and take a syrup Crocus has already supplied - and then taken back. You and Rayleigh propose to postpone your outing until next week -after all the bar is going nowhere, and your brother had been the one to propose you go- but Roger insists that he doesn’t mind, that he doesn’t want to waste your evening as well as his own, and since Crocus -who is accompanied by his pet Saint Bernard, Laboon- has accepted to remain to keep him company, he doesn’t need the two of you to keep vigil over him. You and Rayleigh share a look, suddenly unsure. “So… you wanna go anyway?” “Sure, why not?”

💜 And so it is that you and Rayleigh spend an evening alone, for the first time. At first both feel a vague awkwardness; this is not a date, you’re both well aware, you’re just two friends who hang out together like you’ve already done, together with others, so many times, but the tension between you is undeniable, so much that you struggle to look each other in the eyes. Fortunately, things get better when you reach the bar, a very nice place downtown; you sit together at a table, order your drinks, and the music helps you both relax. You and Rayleigh spend a very pleasant evening listening to some very good jazz and talking; you’ve never struggled making conversation, but tonight, both because of the relaxed atmosphere of the bar and given the absence of other people you would have to also focus on, you seemingly can’t run out of things to say. You discuss your tastes in music and your jobs and about a certain movie Roger has dragged the two of you to watch last week, but also about your past, your hopes for the future, and all the things that led you to become the people you are today.

💜 It’s pleasant, comfortable and compelling at the same time, and it doesn’t end when you leave the bar, since Rayleigh asks if you want to grab a bite before going home and you happily accept, both because you are famished and because you want the pleasure of being in his company to last as long as it can. You sit in a nearby diner, and the vivid conversation you have shared fades off in an easy silence only broken by the occasional, soft-spoken comment, and the smiles you can’t help but share above your plates. You protest when Rayleigh insists on paying for both of you, but he assures you it’s fine. “Then I’ll pay next time.” you insist without thinking, since you had not discussed the possibility of repeating the experience, but given the happy, relieved smile Rayleigh answers you with, you feel you have no reason to regret your impulsivity. It’s very late when you finally return home; Rayleigh insists on walking you to the door, and you thank him with a kiss on the cheek. “So… this was very nice. I’ll see you soon, alright?” “Yeah, sure. I… I really had fun.”

💜 You feel guilty when, closing the door behind you, you realise you haven’t thought about your brother -a healthy young man, cared for by a capable doctor, but still sick- for the whole evening, but you find a note from Crocus on the table, saying that Roger is fine and he left only a few minutes ago. “How was the bar?” Roger asks innocently on the next day, and you realise you actually paid very little attention to the music, too engrossed as you were in your conversation with Rayleigh - and in him.

💜 You tell yourself not to get your hopes up, since the fact that he has enjoyed your evening together as much as you did doesn’t necessarily mean he wants to do it again, but exactly one week later Rayleigh texts you to propose you return to the jazz bar together, and you happily accept. “I know it’s not your kind of place, but you’re welcome to come, you know.” you tell Roger, and when he says that if you don’t mind he’d rather do something else, you find that you actually feel relief at the thought you and Rayleigh will be alone, and that is something you can’t quite make sense of. Not even the most affectionate sister would want a brother to tag along on a date, but you and Rayleigh are not dating, those are just… outings between friends, an occasion to spend time with someone who enjoys jazz as much as you do, nothing to feel protective, or even jealous, about…

💜 But then, why is that exactly what you feel? Why do you feel tense when you see a woman sitting at a table near yours eyeing Rayleigh appreciatively, even though he’s openly ignoring her? Why does your heart leap at the simple touch of Rayleigh’s hand, that has taken yours to help you descend a steep set of steps since you’re a little unstable on your heels? You tell yourself it’s nothing, just the chaste intimacy of your time spent together coupled with Rayleigh’s undeniable natural charm, but in the depth of your heart you know the truth is very different… that you are developing feelings for your brother’s best friend.

💜 Your outings at the jazz bar soon become a regular occurrence; you go together, alone, spend a couple hours there and then go grab a bite at a diner or a burger joint. Nothing special or exciting, many would consider, but those soon become your favourite moments of the week, something you actively look forward to and are excited about. You enjoy Rayleigh’s company and you know he enjoys yours, the way neither of you feels the need to fill the silence you share and at the same time, you never run out of things to talk about. You are attracted to him, soon it becomes impossible to ignore it, but while you can’t help wishing your relationship will one day develop into something different from friendship, you’re also perfectly happy with what you have and are now.

💜 Your growing affection for Rayleigh is the first matter in your life you feel the need to keep secret from Roger. You have always shared everything, but since Rayleigh is his best friend, and you still have no reason to believe he cares for you the way you do for him, you decide you don’t want to risk making things awkward, or worse tense, between the two of them. You wonder whether Roger, who knows you better than anyone else and has always been able to say when you liked someone, has perceived your interest for Rayleigh; you doubt that, since he makes no mention of it, beyond the occasional question about you enjoying the jazz bar. At times, you are tempted to ask whether Rayleigh ever mentions you while the two of them are together, if he has confided in his best friend that he has developed feelings for you. But if he has, Rayleigh has probably asked Roger to keep it for himself, otherwise your brother would have told you; so you decide to keep your doubts to yourself, wondering whether you should bite the bullet and tell Rayleigh what you feel or it’s better to wait for him to make the first move.

💜 By the time your relationship finally changes, you and Rayleigh have been regulars of the jazz bar for roughly four months. In the meantime, you have declined an invitation to go out with a colleague you would have otherwise been happy to accept, and Rayleigh has stopped bringing women home ever since he started seeing your face rather than theirs as he had sex - a sight that both aroused and filled him with shame. The time you spend together has made him more and more aware of his growing attraction, a situation he doesn’t know how to deal with; he is almost sure Roger would have nothing against the two of you dating, but knowing how close the two of you are, and how protective your brother is of you, he’s afraid to make things awkward for all three. Moreover, Roger once told him once your latest partner was an asshole who had been verbally abusive and even cheated on you; it’s possible that you might be uninterested in, or not ready for, a new relationship.

💜 Soon it’s Rayleigh’s birthday, which he celebrates with Roger and his other friends, including you; you gift him an old vinyl record of his favourite jazz singer, something that he had been searching for years and thought impossible to find. He remembers mentioning the matter to you just once, in passing, months ago; that you remembered, and took pains to get him something you knew he would appreciate, matters to Rayleigh more than he could express in words. He can’t thank you the way he wishes to since the apartment is packed with people, but he takes your face in his hands and kisses your forehead softly, the touch sweeter and more intimate than anything you have ever experienced. “Thank you, (name); truly.” “Don’t mention it; I know you have been looking for it.”

💜 “I have been looking for you.” It’s a sudden realisation, a moment of clarity you both experience at the same time as you look at each other, Rayleigh’s hands lingering on your face for a moment before he lets them fall, the delicate touch that makes you shiver “You are what I need. You are what I want. Only you and no one else.” Neither speaks it out loud, but the sensation is almost physically intense, as if you had mentally shared it, and when your eyes meet, both you and Rayleigh know you feel the same.

💜 The jazz bar closes because of a fault in the power system; two days later, on an evening you had planned on spending alone at home with a good book and a cup of tea, Rayleigh calls you. “Do you want to have dinner?” “Roger is at work.” you point out, since having dinner together is something you have until now done with your brother and other friends; you hear Rayleigh laugh softly. “I know; that’s why I asked.” he explains pointedly, making you blush. “Why don’t you come here? I’ll prepare something good.” you quickly propose.

💜 Rayleigh arrives an hour later; he’s brought dessert, and flowers - something no one else has ever done for you, and that fills your heart with joy. He keeps you company as you cook, insisting you need no help and he deserves to relax since unlike you he did work today, and as he sits at the counter, nursing a drink and as he observes you he’s struck by how natural that state of things feels - the two of you at home together, relaxing and preparing dinner as you discuss your day and make plans for tomorrow. Rayleigh has been to your and Roger’s apartment a thousand times, but for a moment it’s like that house is his as well - his and yours, where you’re living together as a couple, maybe even raising a family…

💜 "I can feel you staring.” you point out, amused, without turning “What are you thinking about?” “That for some reason any time I’m alone with you there’s music involved.” he answers, without missing a beat. This time the music in question is not jazz, played live by some talented but underpaid musician at the bar, but comes from your laptop on the table: a classic piece. You explain that you like listening to music while you cook or take care of some other house chore, and Rayleigh admits it’s nice, especially since classic music is something most people your age are usually unaccustomed to. “Dance with me.” he adds then suddenly, while you’re busy checking the content of the oven. “Excuse me?” you ask, turning to look at him, and Rayleigh is smiling, his hand extended in offer. “Come on; let’s dance. We have the music, we have the space; dinner can wait for a minute.”

💜 His smile makes it clear, as if you had any reason to doubt, that you’re not forced to accept if you’re not comfortable with it, but a moment later you’re dancing, surrounded by the kitchen’s furniture, the half-finished meal you have been working on for more than an hour completely forgotten, and the soft notes of the music filling the air. This is not your first time dancing, you’ve gone to clubs and parties like most women your age, but it feels different - soft, intimate, chaste but charged with a nameless tension that makes your heart pound, and goosebumps appear on your skin every time your body and Rayleigh’s brush against each other; you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck, his warm hands cradling your hips. “This feels nice.” you murmur after a while; you remember reading somewhere that a dancer shouldn’t stare at their feet, but meeting Rayleigh’s eyes is suddenly the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, even though you can still hear him smile. “It really does.”

💜 You stop when the music does as well; Rayleigh takes your face in his hands, and you forget how to breathe. “You are so beautiful, you know?” he asks, his dark eyes full of tenderness and desire, and you would like to answer that yes, you do know, does he think no man has ever paid you a compliment before?, but you can’t, because he’s going to kiss you, he’s about to, any second now, and now you’re closing your eyes and tilting your face to offer him your mouth…

💜 … and then the oven buzzer sounds, making you both jump. “Oh, I have to drain the pasta!” you say, and Rayleigh sighs, both amused and exasperated, and holds you close for a moment more before letting you go. Despite that moment of awkwardness, the dinner is a success; Rayleigh appreciates your efforts, and the conversation flows natural and relaxed between you. Having eaten dessert, Rayleigh insists on helping you do the washing-up; it’s then, as you pass him a clean plate to dry and then put back in the cupboard, that you can’t help but ask: “Is dancing something you do with all your girlfriends?” Rayleigh is a bit taken aback, but you assure him you are not blaming, or judging, him; you just want to make things clear, since you like him too much to be nothing more than an item on a list.

💜 Rayleigh smiles. “So you do like me.” “Come on, don’t tell me you’re surprised. I’m not asking you to promise to be with me forever, just… I’d like to know whether you see us still seeing each other in a month or two, because otherwise we better stop here and remain friends.” Opening your heart like this, expressing your deepest and most intimate emotions, feels scary, but it’s also a relief, not least because you know Rayleigh will not take advantage of your feelings; you see him reflect on your words for a while, until the dishware has been put back in the cupboard, and he’s drying his hands on a rug. “I do see the two of us still seeing each other in a couple of months; at least I hope we will. Hell, I hope we’ll still be together in a couple of years.” he considers “I know saying none of the other women matter, what I feel for you is different sounds corny, but… well, that’s the truth. And I’d like to show you if you let me.” He looks vaguely awkward, rubbing the back of his head as he bites his lip - a far cry from the usually self-confident man you have learned to know in the last year, and that fills your heart with tenderness.

💜 “I can let you.” you assure him, circling his neck with your arms once more, bringing your face close to his “In fact, I can’t wait to see how you’ll convince me of how completely besotted and enamoured with me you are…” “Hmm, don’t flatter yourself…”

💜 And then finally, finally you are kissing, avidly and passionately, laughing as your mouths chase after each other and Rayleigh’s hands on your hips lift you to sit on the counter. You feel him grin into the kiss, his fingers playing with your hair; kissing Rayleigh feels like a cup of fresh water after a lifetime of thirst, like the warmth of a fire on the coldest day of the year. It’s sweet, gentle and possessive, intense in a way that makes your head spin. You hear Rayleigh moan when you gently bite his lower lip. “You little vixen.” he murmurs, out of breath, and a moment later his tongue is taking possession of your mouth, and you are the one trembling under his touch.

💜 By the time Roger gets home that night you’ve already gone to bed, and when he opens the fridge to find something to eat, he is pleased to find a portion of your favourite pasta dish - something you usually prepare when you have guests or something to celebrate. Roger smiles to himself as he retrieves the plate from the fridge; you must have invited Rayleigh over taking advantage of his absence. Well done, (name), he thinks to himself, but he avoids asking either of you about it, content with letting things develop naturally.

💜 You and Rayleigh meet for your first official date on the next day, for dinner and a movie - or at least that was the plan, that is immediately abandoned in favour of an evening spent making out on the sofa in his apartment, and a take-away meal you feed each other. You talk for a while, agreeing to begin an exclusive relationship that you will keep secret, especially from Roger; neither of you feels completely comfortable with keeping a man you both love so much in the dark, but you don’t want to make things awkward in case things between you don’t work out -it might happen, you are both forced to admit; no matter how much you care for each other, attraction and a good friendship don’t always translate into a solid, healthy relationship- and are also not completely sure whether he’d approve, even though the last thing you want is to exclude him from your lives and make him feel like a third wheel. “Let’s keep things to ourselves, shall we? At least for a little while.” Rayleigh proposes as he does his best to suck a love bite on your neck while you, sitting on his lap, play with his hair “Hmm, I haven’t had a secret girlfriend since I was in fourth grade…”

💜 A secret relationship is exciting, you have to admit; you and Rayleigh go on dates and spend time together like any couple, but there are also moments in which having to hide it adds an unexpected thrill to your relationship: hushed kisses stolen every time Roger walks out of the room to grab a snack or go to the bathroom, meeting for dinner when he’s working late, having each other’s number saved under a different name in case he catches a glimpse of the texts you exchange. Your friends, also in the dark regarding the fact that you’re seeing each other, occasionally note that serial-dater Rayleigh has been single for a while and wonder why someone as nice as you can’t get a date; you usually sidestep the issue, avoiding to answer or commenting that you simply haven’t found the right person yet, and then your eyes meet across the room, and you both smile, well aware that you have, and you couldn’t be happier.

💜 “I never thought to ask; why is that Roger has the initial D in his name and you don’t, even though you’re siblings?” “Ah, that is the million berry question…”

💜 Intimacy is one of the matters you and your partner decide to discuss at the start of your relationship, just to avoid misunderstandings and disappointments. You are pleased to discover that Rayleigh is as attracted to you as you are to him, but, the two of you agree, it’s better not to rush into sex; you can spend time together, get used to your new relationship, and establish boundaries once you are more at ease with each other. You both want sex to mean more than physical contact, and your relationship to be built on a deep emotional connection as well as the promise of shared pleasure. “We have all the time in the world; let’s just enjoy what we have.” you propose one day as you reluctantly get up from Rayleigh’s bed and fix your clothes, fighting the impulse to just lie in his arms, kiss him and discover how loud you can make him scream your name while the two of you are still fully clothed. Rayleigh sighs; he has never forgotten how lovely and enticing you looked that first time he saw you, naked save for your panties, but no matter how good it would feel to worship your beautiful body the way you deserve and feel himself inside you, he wants to prove you how much he sincerely cares for you and how happy he is the two of you have found each other. “Of course; as long as we can spend time together, I’m happy.”

💜 You become intimate exactly three days later, while Roger is away camping with some friends -you and Rayleigh were also invited to go, but were able to find separate, believable excuses- and you consequently have the apartment to yourself. He buys you dinner at a nice place, you take a stroll hand in hand through the city park, and before you realise you are pulling him into the apartment and then into your bedroom, clothes falling on the floor around you before -ooohh…!- Rayleigh kneels to kiss your core. “You taste so sweet.” he murmurs looking up at you, and soon you’re even less dressed than you were on your first encounter, and you are the one screaming Rayleigh’s name, clawing at his back -something you’ll later apologise for, even though he assures you there is no need; in fact, he’s quite proud he’s carrying the signs of your ardour on his skin- while he moves above you, kissing every inch of your body he can find.

💜 Once your passion has sated, Rayleigh stands from the bed to go clean himself, and brings you a damp towel and a water bottle, making sure you are comfortable. “So, that happened.” he begins slowly as he sits on the edge of the bed, and you smile at him, pleasantly sore and still hungry for what your partner was so generous in giving you “Any regret?” “At the moment I wouldn’t be able to be sorry about something if I tried.” you admit “And… well, I know this wasn’t what we planned, but I am very happy.” Rayleigh is happy as well, especially after you ask him to stay the night, and he spends the next eight hours holding you in his arms, falling asleep with the scent of your skin filling his senses; on the next morning you bring him breakfast in bed, and neither of you raises for the next four hours. In your heart, you both fear you are moving too fast and it would have been better to wait some more before becoming intimate, but it was so sweet, your bodies moving as if they had known each other a thousand times before… why get worried, when you have something so beautiful and special to find joy and pleasure in?

💜 And you do; you do feel joy and pleasure in sex with Rayleigh, who soon proves to be the as gentle and passionate a lover as you had hoped him to be. While not exactly submissive, at least as a rule, Rayleigh is the sort of man who finds his pleasure in giving it to others, and exerts his power through service rather than domination. “Come on, (name); is two your limit? You’ll have to do better than that if you want my cock before the end of the night.” he murmurs, damp lips barely detached from your core; he’s told you many times how sweet you taste, and soon the compliment doesn’t only refer to the flavour of your lips “Can you scream my name, darling? I want the neighbours not to be able to look at me in the face tomorrow; if you’re loud enough, I’ll let you tie me to the bed. I want to see your beautiful body above mine, you know how crazy it drives me to see your tits bouncing…”

💜 Your breasts are the part of your body he likes the most - to kiss, to bite, to lick, to fuck with his cock snuggled between them, to rest his cheek against as you cuddle on the sofa, to admire as they jiggle when he asks you to walk around the apartment naked, to stimulate so that he can see your nipples through your shirt. “You’ve got the most gorgeous boobs in the world.” he murmurs as he fills his hands with them, you sitting on his lap “I want to spend the rest of my life playing with them…” The part of his body you like the most are his hands, large and strong, well-groomed and calloused, the touch both gentle and vigorous when the situation calls for it; you like to see him cradle your waist in them or hold you in place as his hips pound against yours, the way one of them rests on your waist to pull you close, possessiveness tensing his touch, and how he runs then along your naked skin, as if he were savouring it through touch before enjoying your lovemaking. “Sometimes you only need to touch me to feel aroused. Even if you’re just helping me descend some stairs, or handing me a pen; I feel your hands on me, and my skin is on fire.” you confess one night, drunk with pleasure, as you catch your breath together lying on Rayleigh’s bed, and he smiles, both smug and awed. “I better touch you as much and as long as I can, then.”

💜 Rayleigh’s favourite position is anything with you on top, straddling him, but he sometimes hugs you from behind, pressing his erection against you, and a minute later you’re bent over the bed, the table, the kitchen counter or any surface can give you the necessary support, skirt lifted or trousers lowered to expose your ass, moaning his name as he pounds into you. You like to do it standing against the wall, or the more soft, intimate sex, legs intertwined as Rayleigh’s weight presses you against the mattress and he starts slowly, gently moving against you, your mouths meeting in a kiss as you run your fingers through his hair to keep him from breaking it.

💜 He likes the scent of your hair, having you sit on his lap, stealing kisses in the darkness of a movie theatre. You like taking his glasses off before a kiss, snuggling against his side, and surprising him with lunch at work (“Nothing for your poor, starving brother?” “Oh, stop it, Roger, here’s yours.”). You experiment with toys together, you both arrive late at work because of morning sex, he buys lingerie for you, you spray cream on his torso to then lick it clean. You have sex in both of your homes, at work, in the car, in the open.

💜 Rayleigh is disappointed when you tell him you don’t feel comfortable with nudes, knowing all too well how easy it is for a phone to be stolen or hacked, but his mood is immediately improved when he starts receiving some very explicit texts when you’re apart, to the point that in a couple of occasions he has to excuse himself, and reach the closest bathroom, or even a storage closet while he’s at work, to rub one out, his free hand holding the phone and his teeth biting his lip to keep a scream from escaping. He occasionally returns the courtesy, his words, both lurid and romantic, a promise your partner never fails to keep.

💜 He finds out you were part of the cheer squad in high school, and he’s enthusiastic about the old pictures you show him, confessing he had a thing for cheerleaders as a teenager - and not only then. A quick trip to your family home later -thank God your mother never throws anything away- and you have a new outfit, pompoms included, to welcome your partner home, who is immediately grateful.

💜 It’s not all sex, though. There are the long walks you take around the city, your hand held in his as you naturally learn to move at the same pace; the evenings spent cuddling in front of the TV, the warmth you share much more pleasant than the one a blanket or a heather could produce; the way Rayleigh likes to fall asleep with his cheek resting against your chest, for no other reason than the possibility to listen to your heartbeat; the comfort wearing an old shirt of his brings you when you’re apart, the softness of the fabric under your hands reminding you of the way he has to touch you, delicate and reverent as if you were some precious treasure. With none of your previous partners intimacy has ever meant so much for you - the quiet, crystal-clear awareness of what you share, of the feeling that is different from friendship and much deeper than desire or passion, and that has brought so much joy into your lives.

💜 Your desire to keep your relationship secret from Roger is equally short-lived. Barely a month after your first night together, you and your partner are together in the living room, you sitting on the table in your underwear with your legs wrapped around Rayleigh’s hips. You have completely lost track of time, and are therefore taken completely aback when the apartment’s door opens, and a moment later Roger steps in the room. “What the fuck, you guys?!”

💜 You are both completely mortified, especially when a vaguely aghast but still smug Roger points out that he knew already you had started seeing each other, and is even able to say exactly when your relationship started, the night Rayleigh came over for dinner and you prepared your famous pasta. “Couldn’t you take this somewhere else, though? (name), you have a perfectly usable bed just ten feet away, and we eat on that table! Rayleigh, no, don’t turn, there are parts of a man’s anatomy regarding which even a best friend ought to remain in the dark…”

💜 Roger moves to go to his room, leaving you the necessary privacy for your affair, and seems to find it strange that both you and your partner want to talk. “About what?” “You are… alright with this? We don’t want to make things weird, or that you might disapprove…” He shrugs, simply says he’s happy for you, and the fact that you’re now a couple doesn’t really change things for him. “We’re still hanging out together, yes? All three of us, I mean, and me with both of you.” he asks, not particularly worried, and after you and Rayleigh have reassured him in this regard, he says that it’s fine and he’s gonna go take a nap now, why don’t you get some pizza for dinner?

💜 “I feel a bit dumb.” you admit once you and your partner have been left alone. Rayleigh nods; the fact that the issue you have both been agonizing over for weeks literally resolved itself with no drama, in less than two minutes, feels a little unreal. “Me too; and relieved, as well. Do you wanna go to your room?” “Yeah, sure.” He picks you up to carry you to your bed, and two hours later the three of you get some pizza to eat as you watch a movie.

💜 You soon discover that promising yourselves, each other, and Roger that you and Rayleigh’s relationship wouldn’t lead you to neglect him soon prove to superfluous, simply because both you and your partner love your brother and sincerely enjoy spending time with him, not to mention Roger is not the sort of needy person who constantly demands the attention of his loved ones, not even from the two people he is closest to in the world. Your brother is perfectly fine with the two of you spending the night together, or ditching him for one night to go on a date, and he doesn’t feel the need to threaten Rayleigh with the classic If you hurt her I hurt you discourse. Why should he, when he knows the sort of man his friend is and can see firsthand how happy he makes you?

💜 This is not to say Roger is completely at ease with hearing about you and your partner’s love life…

“What’s this thing you have bought?” “It’s lube; Rayleigh tries to be gentle, but when one is as hung as he is, he can’t fit fully inside without help…” “Oh my God, (name)...!”

“Why are you still standing? Your chair is over there.” “I know, but your sister bought a strap-on two days ago, my bottom still hurts…” “Rayleigh…!”

💜 … but accidents are far and between, since you and Rayleigh make sure to only enjoy your sex life behind closed doors, or at least when you’re alone for the day. Roger sometimes retaliates by asking, out loud and when you’re surrounded by your friends, when you’re planning to tie the knot, or to make him a proud uncle, and grins when both you and Rayleigh blush.

💜 “So, we’re sort of brothers now, you and I.” Roger comments one night as the two of them are enjoying a beer on the terrace, alone since you’re busy with work; Rayleigh reflects for a moment before smiling into his drink. “I think we have been brothers for a while already.” he points out; they share a smile, their bottles clink, and a companionable silence falls on them.

💜 You and Rayleigh discuss your exes. You are ashamed to admit you let your former partner abuse you verbally for several months and only broke up with him after you discovered he had cheated on you: Rayleigh sighs, and he promises that he’ll do better, even though the bar is so low it doesn’t really require an effort on his part. You know he dated several women before you, and while you don’t blame him for it -he’s an adult, you weren’t together yet, and you can’t very well blame other women for wanting to be with him, can you?- you have to admit the thought does make you worry a little, the most uncertain part of you fearing he could lose interest in you like he has done with most of them, or decide he’d rather go back to one of his exes. “Listen, (name); do you trust me?” “Of course I do.” “Then believe me when I say I feel much more for you than I have for any woman I have met before. Why would you focus on the past, when we have a future to build together?”

💜 A couple of months later, you and Roger take a day to yourselves; you visit a flea market, eat ice-cream, drive around singing along with the radio, like you used to do when you were teenagers, going on adventures that brought you no more than twenty miles from home, with the car you had borrowed without asking from your parents. “I have missed this.” you murmur at some point, back pressed against the side of the car while Roger, his beloved straw hat protecting him from the sun rays, pays at the gas station’s self-checkout; he grins. “I have too; but we won’t anymore.” “Yeah, good idea.” In those moments, no matter how much you like Rayleigh and enjoy his company, you don’t miss him; your brother is and remains the other half of your soul, your best friend, the one who knows your heart and mind as well as and even better than you do. As long as he’s alive, you know you’ll never be alone.

💜 You return home late, passing through Rayleigh’s neighbourhood on your way to the apartment. “Shall we stop? You want to say hello?” Roger proposes; “No, it’s fine; I’ll text him we’re back, and I’m meeting him tomorrow for lunch.” you answer serenely. No matter how much the two of you enjoy each other’s company, neither wants to be the sort of clingy partner who demands the totality of the other’s time and attention, and you trust he won’t take advantage of your day out to meet another woman behind your back. “Alright.” Roger simply says, driving past your partner’s apartment complex, but you know him well enough to perceive he’s not completely at ease - rather, that he’s trying to find the words to express something that maybe isn’t even fully clear in his heart. “Roger, what’s wrong?”

💜 It takes your brother a minute to answer, his eyes fixed on the street. “Are you happy? With him, I mean.” he begins slowly, his expression hidden by the night’s shadows you’re driving through “I mean, I know every couple fights now and then, and he’s a good man, and that you’ve only been together a couple of months, but… are you happy, (name)?”

💜 He’s afraid, you realise with a pang. Your brother, a man who at times looks too reckless and life-avid to know fear, is scared - not for himself, but for you, because he knows how much pain you have already experienced because of partners who didn’t respect you; and he also knows how much you actually care for Rayleigh, and how losing him, even for no fault of yours or his, would break your heart. “I am.” you murmur, resting your hand on his and soothingly as if you were talking to a child who woke up screaming from a nightmare, and not a man who is the same age as you, and probably much smarter and braver “I am happy with him; deliriously so, Roger. There’s nothing you need to worry about.”

💜 “Alright.” he murmurs, still without looking at you, as if ashamed of his doubts; having left the car you share a hug, and hold hands as you reach the door.

💜 Like Rayleigh had predicted and hoped, you’re still together a year later, your relationship solid and affectionate; unfortunately, this is when you encounter your first crisis - a pregnancy scare, that terrifies both you and Rayleigh. “What are we gonna do?” you ask him, and maybe for the first time your partner has no answer. In his heart, he knows he’s not ready to have a child, and while he doesn’t want to abandon you with an issue you created together he can’t help feeling there’s something wrong about bringing into the world a child who was not wanted. What if you end up losing each other because of this? He’s never been happier than in that year you shared, and he doesn’t want it to end, but what if it does…?

💜 “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.” he promises softly, sitting on the edge of your bed with his arm draped across your shoulders, the position allowing him to perceive you are literally shaking with fear “And whatever you decide to do, I’ll respect it, you have my word.” You nod silently, the positive pregnancy test still in your hands, and hide in his embrace as you try to imagine a future that has never felt so full of doubts and uncertainties. You still have a little time to decide what to do, and you and Rayleigh spend much time talking and discussing the different options; “I am so sorry for this.” you murmur, and your partner, while tense, simply kisses your brow and tells you it’s fine, he’s not angry, and just wants to do what’s best for both of you - a much better reaction than the one a couple of your female friends had in the same situation, according to what you have been told. You’re not ready to be a mother, you don’t want to be a mother, at least for the time being, but at night, as you lie in Rayleigh’s bed and feel the soothing touch of his hand on your hip, you think that one day, when the time is right and the circumstances are as well, he will be an amazing father…

💜 And then all the fear for the future, all the stress and guilt and anxiety, meet an abrupt end when, only a few hours before your first doctor appointment -you told Rayleigh you could go by yourself, but he insisted on asking for some time off at work to be able to accompany you- your get your period, sudden and abundant, and the doctor confirms that you needn’t worry about deciding whether terminating your pregnancy or keep the baby anymore. Neither you nor Rayleigh talk during the drive home, but once you’re together in his apartment you hold each other and both shed a few tears, whether of relief or disappointment or simply to express the surge of emotion bursting from your hearts you couldn’t tell. “This is good, right? I mean, this is what we both wanted.” you tell him, and your partner nods silently, and it’s true, one-hundred percent true, you should be happy, you are happy, but then why do tears keep running down your cheeks…?

💜 “We are… fine, right? The two of us, I mean.” Rayleigh asks hesitantly after a while, and some would say he simply did what was expected of him as your partner and father of the child, remaining with you and promising to support you whatever you decided to do, but you do feel grateful for his comfort, for his quiet and solid presence by your side and for the way he did his best to reassure you even though he was terrified himself - you feel grateful for having him as part of your life. “I love you, you know?” you murmur; you’ve never told him before, even though at the moment you don’t realise it “So damn much.” “I love you too, (name); and whatever happens I promise I’ll never leave you.”

💜 Three more years pass; on the day of your fourth anniversary, as a gift, Rayleigh gives you an envelope that contains the purchase contract of a larger apartment in the same neighbourhood; the contract is not signed, but it has been compiled in both of your names. “It’s fine if you want to think about it, I have some pictures of the place…” “Yes! Yes, of course I want to!” you exclaim happily, throwing your arms around him; Rayleigh picks you up to spin you around, and exactly a week later, once you’ve visited the apartment and had a talk with your bank, you officially buy it together.

💜 Roger is obviously happy for you; the truth is Rayleigh discussed the matter with him before broaching the topic with you, and your brother encouraged him to do it, confident it would have made you happy. “I will miss you, though.” he mentions quietly as he helps you pack your things for the move “No, you won't.” “What do you mean? Of course I will, we have lived together for five years…” “You won’t get to miss me, Roger, because you’ll still meet me, and him, every day or almost.” you assure him decisively “Keep your friday nights free from now on, alright?” “Yes ma’am!”

💜 When you return to the new apartment after the move, Rayleigh picks you up to carry you through the threshold; there are still boxes around, some pieces of furniture are missing and the gas won’t be installed until tomorrow, but as you look around yourself, and no matter how much you have liked sharing the apartment with your brother and still think fondly about your family house, you are more than happy, you are thrilled, to begin this new chapter of your life. “Welcome home, (name).” Rayleigh murmurs fondly as he pulls you close, and you smile, resting your cheek against his shoulder. “I am home.” you agree “And I always will be, as long as you are with me.”

#One Piece #Silvers Rayleigh #Silvers Rayleigh x Gol!reader #Silvers Rayleigh x reader #Bellona's stuff

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