#I know in a lot of cases I used a mix of ending some words or phrases in s or es and some in d or ed

[skoulsons]

I’m The Reason You Won’t Come Home

• gif by @maryjanewatscns

• title from Ethel Cain’s song “A House in Nebraska.” aka Joel and Ellie’s song.

Relationships: Joel & Ellie, Joel & Tommy, Tommy & Ellie

Word count: ~8.7k (I did not want it to go on this long)

Warnings: Minor depictions of torture and violence, some blood, death.

Authors note: This is straight sadness. Ever since I discovered tlou2 and his death, this has always been a thought. It’s nearly a year and a half ongoing, so I just sort of spit a year and a half’s worth of thoughts into…whatever the heck this is. I cried a lot writing this, but I’m also a sensitive wimp, so that could be why.

Summary:

The second he’s gone, she starts to break. She just told Joel last night about wanting to try and forgive him. To try and get back on good terms. To try for what they want to be; what they deserve to be. And she almost just lost him. But now, she has the chance to get them back home and to start that journey of reconciliation.

Some extra notes:

If you ship them I might just fill your house with mosquitos on a hot summer day and lock you inside

I wrote this in a combination of game and show canon, so there are moments, callbacks, and descriptions from both

I don’t think there’s anything that classifies as a tlou2 spoiler, but if there is it’s pretty minor

This is more self-indulgent than anything else. If something seems out of character, I apologize. Like I said, incredibly self-indulgent

I love physical touch and that is…very evident in this

Canon divergence from tlou2 in a few ways, obviously. One of them is there being no door at the bottom of the stairs as I genuinely forgot about it and I am….7.9k words in as I write this. so.

(A very big thank you to my beautiful friend @ellie-licious for beta reading and helping me figure out a specific part of this fic <3 and in general for being a great friend to me for many reasons. I love and cherish you very much brother and this is for you)

~~~~

Ellie wakes up on the floor, cheek pressed to the cold basement tile. She can see two blurry figures a few feet from her. One is limp, almost like a rag doll. The other is moving, struggling with the limp one. Sitting it up? She can’t tell. Ellie’s ears are ringing and her vision is blurry; her nose and eyes throbbing as her throat feels like sandpaper.

Tommy is the struggling figure across the room, attempting to wake up an unconscious Joel. Tommy’s working on sitting him up against the glass. Joel has a heartbeat, he’s breathing. He’s alive. But he’s hurt, bad. Tommy’s hands find Joel’s neck and then the sides of his face, tapping him and shouting to try and wake the older. Joel’s face is bloody. He has a slice over his left cheekbone, a gash across his jugular, a chip out of his ear, a broken nose, a cut on his right temple that stretches down to his jawline, fresh blood still coming from them. His hair had an even coating of blood through the strands.

“Dammit, Joel, come on! I need you awake. Come the fuck on, Joel!” Tommy yelled, patting at his brother’s neck for something. A cough, a groan, a twitch of his fingers or a pull at the corner of his mouth. But Joel gave nothing.

Ellie stirs slightly, groaning into the floor as her vision focuses more and her ears ring into her skull. She coughs some blood up, catching Tommy’s attention. He takes his hands back from Joel’s neck, placing steady hands to his shoulders to keep him in place against the glass before crossing the room to Ellie’s side. Tommy kneels on the ground beside her, placing a hand on the back of her shoulder as she comes to.

“Hey…” He says, a hesitant smile on his face.

“Tommy?” She asks, voice slurring as she speaks, eyes still trying to adjust to the man kneeling above her and figure across the room. Joel.

“Yeah, s’me. You okay?”

Reality rushes back to her. You’re gonna fucking die! Let him go. We didn’t think anyone was gonna show up! The hell did you expect? You want what I want, right? His face. The people. Didn’t she cut a guy? Wasn’t Tommy unconscious? She was kicked in the ribs. There’s blood on the glass. His blood. He was groaning. He was-

Ellie started to roll on her side, her vision rolling with her. “Joel….he was-“

Tommy cuts her off. “He’s okay for now. Can't get him to wake up though-“

“Where-“ is he. She places her palm to the tile, trying to push herself up off the floor, her ribs aching at the movement.

“No, Ellie. You need to relax-“

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy. I need to see him,” she bites, and Tommy knows arguing with her will go nowhere. She’s stubborn, just like her father.

She stands up, pushing past Tommy’s instruction for her to stay down. She holds onto his arms as she stands, steadying herself before walking alongside him. Tommy helps her take baby steps across the room, walking through pools of dried blood. His dried blood.

Joel’s back is straight against the wall, head hung slightly to the right. His legs are extended in front of him, both of his hands in his lap. Tommy lowers Ellie on Joel’s left side, Ellie kneeling down beside him, taking his left hand in hers. She interlocks her fingers with his, something that’s felt so lost between them the past four years.

She held his hand a number of times during that Winter. After she went back to him in that basement and they held onto each other, it was easier. And after David, it was almost frequent. When they’d be walking and a twig snapped, she reached for him. When they spotted a rabbit or a deer, she reached for him. Nights around the fire when the images and the words and the actions played on repeat, she sought out his hand. She’d scooch across the snowy ground to his side, sliding her hand in his without a second thought. He’d give her a tight squeeze immediately before letting his hand relax in her grip. She fell asleep like that one night, waking up to her hand still in his while his rifle rested across his lap.

But his rifle was resting against his pack before she fell asleep, at least six feet from where they sat. He had gotten up that night, releasing her hand to get his rifle to keep watch. But instead of staying up and watching over her, he settled back beside her, taking her hand in his again. She didn’t mention it that morning, and neither did he.

“Can-can you find a rag or something for me. And some water, too. He should have some in his pack.” Her hands moved to his jaw, turning his head side-to-side to check his cuts.

Any emotion in her voice is held off completely with Tommy in the room. He can’t see her like how she wants to be right now. She was almost killed. He was almost killed. And there’s a lump in her throat right now that she can’t have Tommy know about. She doesn’t want him to see her like that. She can’t break in front of him, not right now.

Tommy finds an old T-shirt and Joel’s water canteen in his pack and hands them to Ellie, her lightly soaking the shirt with some water as she starts cleaning the cut on his neck.

She pauses for a second, turning her head to the side, still avoiding Tommy’s gaze. “Dina and Jesse are on their way. Can you go watch out for them, please?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“Tommy…” she called, turning fully to see him. Her eyes were red already. “Be careful.”

He offered her a gentle smile before heading up the stairs, pulling the door closed behind him. He stops before it reaches the doorframe. “Ellie? Let me know when he wakes, okay?”

“Yup,” is all she manages as he leaves the door ajar behind him.

The second he’s gone, she starts to break. She just told Joel last night about wanting to try and forgive him. To try and get back on good terms. To try for what they want to be; what they deserve to be. And she almost just lost him. But now, she has the chance to get them back home and to start that journey of reconciliation.

But he needs her right now, her thoughts don’t. She puts the rag down and grabs his left hand to hold it in hers, crying as she tries to wrap his one hand in both of hers, as tiny as they are.

“Joel?” she asks, her voice cracking as tears well in her eyes.

She hasn’t felt this small in years; especially not since their estrangement. Her voice feels like it jumps an octave asking for him now. She feels small, vulnerable, open. They haven’t been open since the night after they were home from her birthday trip. They watched Jurassic Park, but it wasn’t the same after that. Now, it feels like she’s reverted back to their old ways. Five years ago when they were on the road together, Ellie calling out for him so he could tell her what to do. The name she’d yell when she was scared and needed him to guide her. How she shouted for him against the raging current when they jumped off that bridge and he held her against him, shielding her from the rock face. How she screamed for him to help her when Sam had turned and was clawing at her on that motel floor. His name that seemed to offer so much comfort, protection, and security back then now holds years of heartbreak, fear, guilt, and shame.

“It’s me,” she whispers, tears streaming down her face as she brings the conglomeration of their hands up to her face, resting her lips against the back of his left hand. His hands are cold against her lips as her tears fall, soaking his wrist in salty streams. “Joel…” she pauses. What the fuck do I say? What does he deserve to hear? Will I even mean what I say? “You have to get up. You need to get up, Joel. Please,” she sobs, rubbing her thumbs back and forth over his hand as she struggles to catch her breath.

A few minutes of her crying passes before she clears her throat. She gives his hand a few reassuring squeezes. “I’m gonna clean your face a bit, okay? You’re still bleeding a lot and some of these cuts are bad.”

She squeezes his hand again before reaching for the rag again and dabbing more water on it. She gently uses her left hand to tilt his head up to work on the cut on his neck.

The water was ice cold and he unconsciously flinched when Ellie dabbed the t-shirt to his neck. She apologized every time, hoping he could hear her. She meant it. Even after the last two years of almost delighting in pushing him away and knowing he was hurt by how she was treating him, she regretted that now. She hated it now. Even if this was physical pain, her stomach still churned at the thought of knowing thoughts he’s probably had the past two years and how she hurt him mentally. She’s sincere over her apologies. She doesn’t like seeing him hurt; and now, she hates to be the one causing him more pain and discomfort.

She finishes cleaning the blood off his face, even cleaning some that got on his teeth. She ran the rag through his hair, soaking sections of it and wringing the blood out. He looked…better, but nowhere near good. None of the cuts should need stitches, she thinks, so that’s good. She places the rag and water beside her again, double checking his face over for any spots she may have missed. She grabbed hold of his hand again, carefully running her fingers across the calluses that litter his knuckles.

Tommy appeared at the top of the stairs, voice laced with concern. She would tell him if something happened. “Ellie? Anything?”

Ellie sighed, heavy and deep. Why isn’t he waking up? She cleared her throat, attempting to keep the emotion out of her voice. “No…nothing yet. Sorry,”

“S’not your fault, sweetheart. Just let me know when he wakes,” and Tommy was off to continue his watch for the other teenagers.

When. More like if, at this point.

And that’s exactly when he did. A heavy grown from the older man as Ellie eyes immediately locked on to him again, scanning his face. His hand moved in hers as his eyes fluttered slightly. His thumb rubbed over her fingers as she smiled, holding her tears in case this wasn’t quite it.

But his eyes opened and were trained on her immediately. She squeezed his hand tight again, offering him a small smile as tears dropped from her chin and fell to their hands. “Hey…” she whispered, keeping her voice quiet for him.

“El…” he tried, voice croaking at the attempt. She smiled at him. He’s here. He’s alive.

“Yeah, it’s me,” she confirmed, squeezing his hand again.

Joel immediately started moving and adjusting his position on the floor, but Ellie was quick to lay a hand on his chest, tears still on her face. “No, you’re staying here. You’re…in bad shape, Joel,” she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She sniffled, grabbing at his hand again. “You have to stay here til we can get you safely home.”

Joel’s left hand lifts from her grasp as he brings it up closer to her face, his eyebrows furrowing; uncertain that she’s actually here. She finds it again with her right and holds tight to it, pressing it against her cheek and smiling. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re not hallucinating, I promise. We’re not dead or in some afterlife.”

She was there, too. She was on that basement tile, face forcefully pressed into the ground. Forced to watch. Laid out right in front of him, every fear Joel ever dreaded resurfacing right then; mere feet from him. The fear of her dying again. He wasn’t concerned over himself, it was all over her and what they were doing. They tackled her to the ground, kicked her in the ribs and kicked her head later, giving her a bloody, and possibly broken, nose.

He had every right to think she wasn’t real. Everything told him they died. He had every right to believe he did die and, somehow, the darkness that he thought came after death was just a place that filled in the horrifying gaps. Those gaps being filled by Ellie being beaten and killed, all while he was unable to save her.

But now, hearing her voice and the reassurance in we’re not dead wasn’t enough. He had to hold her. He had to feel her so he could know. His hand to her cheek, fingers through her hair, her tucked away against his chest, or her curled up against his side while his arm drapes across her. That was all for them and he needed it all now to know. To know that she was alive. That they were alive.

Joel frees a finger from her grasp and runs it back and forth over her cheek. Man did she miss contact. This used to be second- no, first nature for them, but it’s been so lost, even before their estrangement. But right now, it feels like it was never lost. “It’s me,” is all she can get out. A phrase from him that always brought her out of dissociation. Two words that grounded her; comforted her throughout Winter and settling into Jackson. Any uncertainty was always met with those two words. It became their thing.

She rests their hands back into his lap before reluctantly letting go. “I’ll be right back,” she whispers, quickly shooting up and running to the top of the stairs, checking behind her every step, the fear that Joel would disappear if she let her eyes off him.

She cracked the basement door open and peaked her head through. “Tommy?! He’s awake,” she called, and Tommy rounded the corner from the front door. Ellie offered him a grateful smile as he struggled to catch his breath, both from running and the realization that Joel was alive.

Tommy rushed downstairs with her, meeting Joel at his side. Ellie stayed a few feet back, letting the brothers have a few minutes. Tommy cleared his throat, trying to conceal his emotion. “Hey, big brother. She cleaned you up real good. How you feelin’?”

“Pain,” is all Joel could manage, though it came out clearer than either of them were expecting. “Fucking sore. Beaten…I was…,” Joel tried, his throat aching with every word.

“I know, brother. I know. But you’re alright now. Jesse and Dina are comin’ and then we’ll have enough people to get you safely home, alright? You’re gonna be just fine, Joel,” he assured, placing a hand over Joel’s heart.

“You were…hit…”

“Nah, it’s nothin’. Clinic at Jackson will get us both up ‘n runnin’ again in no time.” Tommy paused. “Just rest for right now, alright? Once they get here, we’ll get on our way home,” Tommy reassured, grabbing Joel’s hand briefly to offer a comforting squeeze. Ellie pressed a hand to his arm as he passed by, heading back upstairs to watch for Dina and Jesse.

Ellie kneeled back to Joel’s side, gathering his left hand in both of hers again. He brought his right over to them, placing it atop hers, rubbing his thumb in circles on the backs of her hands.

“You heard your brother; you need to rest. We’ll get you up and back home once they get here. I’ll be here the whole time.”

“I can’t rest.”

Ellie looks at him confused. “I know you’re in pain and that it’s probably hard to get real rest right now. You don’t even have to sleep, you can just ‘rest your eyes’,” she joked, freeing her left hand to use air quotes. “You love resting your eyes.”

“No, kiddo,” he said, struggling to form the right words.

The term of endearment strikes a chord in her. There was a small party at the Tipsy Bison one night and both of them showed up. It was a year into their estrangement and Ellie cursed herself every time she gave him the pleasure of even looking in his direction, let alone talking to him. Within an hour, Ellie was pissed. Some comment Seth made about her vocabulary. She cussed him out and rushed out the door, Joel right on her heels.

“Kiddo-“ his voice was gentle, never raised.

“Don’t! Don’t. What the fuck don’t you get? I said I’d come back here, but we’re done. You don’t get to fucking talk to me, especially using names like that. Keep your fucking distance,” she yelled, some Jacksonfolk trickling out of the bar at the shouting as she stormed off towards their his house.

Joel was left in the street that evening, soft flurries of snow coating his hair and beard as he watched her storm down the Jackson streets. He could see their his house from there. He intently watched every step she took, her right hand coming up to her face every so often. She was crying.

He never called her ‘kiddo’ after that. Until now.

“I can’t.”

“Joel, what the fuck are you talking about? Did I miss something?”

She did.

How the hell did she miss it?

The crook between his neck and shoulder; similar to Tess.

He had been bitten.

Her face drops immediately, her mouth slowly falling open as he pulled a fistful of his clothes to the side, showing it better. “I’m…not waking up again.”

Ellie’s breath is rapid now, hitching with every inhale. She’s reached a point beyond hyperventilating. She is choking, coughing, suffocating. Her whole body burns as she pulls her hands away from his, struggling to even know where to put them because she can’t think.

“Joel…” she whispers, almost as a warning. She’s fallen back to sitting on her heels now, an uncomfortable and unsure space between them.

Joel took a deep breath in, preparing himself. “They kicked and knocked you out. I didn’t have any strength…I couldn’t fight them. They pulled me up to my feet and forced me to stand. The guys took turns punching me in the gut…one of them also giving me this cut from my temple to my jaw. They were laughing at this point, like they were playing a game. They…” he paused, collecting his breath. He felt like he was running out. “They kicked you a few more times, they wanted you awake to watch. When you didn’t wake up…three of the guys left, mumbling something about infected.” He paused again to catch his breath. Even recounting it was almost too much for him. The anger in his eyes was raging remembering how they kicked her. “Few minutes later…they were coming back down the stairs with a runner. They had tied a rope around its neck like it was a dog. They teased me with it…threatened Tommy, too. I begged them not to. They…they gave the runner some slack and I tried to turn away, but two of them were holding me up by the arms…I couldn’t go anywhere. I turned my head and…” He motioned to the bite. It was two sets of teeth marks. He was bit twice. “They all laughed and pulled the leash back, shooting the runner in the face. The two guys let go of me and I fell…broke my nose. I’ve been in and out since then. I don’t know why or how I even woke up the first time.”

She waited, collecting what the hell he just told her. “...why isn’t the runner still here?”

He sighed again, closing his eyes briefly. Even in his current state, he’s dreaming of stringing them up by their insides, letting them hang from the cross beams of the mansion. “They knew you were immune. So, I guess in an attempt to…hurt you, they took away the evidence that I got bit. The blonde girl kneeled in front of me…said she wanted you to have hope I’d be okay. That we’d be okay.”

“What the fuck,” is all she could manage.

Joel coughed and her eyes grew wide. “Wait, it’s your neck…” she breathed in with no satisfaction. “You…you don’t…”

“Have a lot of time,” he continued, finishing her thought. “No, baby, I don’t.”

They stayed in silence for a while, unable to grasp what exactly reality was. This was never supposed to happen. She’s supposed to forgive him. They’re supposed to watch Curtis and Viper 2. They’re supposed to go back to Jackson and practice guitar together. She wants to learn to make those little wooden animals he loves spending so much time on, too, and she knows he’ll teach her. They’re both still needed on patrol. They’re meant to have more meals together. They’re supposed to have a future.

“Rehash whatever you need to. I won’t blame you. Do what you need to, kiddo.”

“You’re about to fucking die and you want me to rehash my feelings? You want me to fucking kick and scream and hit you?!”

“If you need to.”

“I’m about to lose you-“ she cuts herself off, a choked sob at lose. She should never have to say that. She never dreamed she’d ever have to say that.

Joel sighed, his eyes closing briefly. Why. Why like this?

She crawls towards him, burying herself against his chest. Don’t fucking touch me. It rings in her ears. It taunts her. She swatted his hand away and told him we’re done. She left him stood at Saint Mary’s, the same hospital he saved her life at. The place where he told her “we’re not done; we have a future,” was now where he was being told that they were done.

But then they talked on the porch. They had hope. He had hope she was coming back. That she wanted to try for them. They wouldn’t have to be done anymore.

And now they were done. For good. There was no coming back, not from this.

She pushes himself as close as she can against him, burying her face in his left shoulder as she clings to his coat and sobs. She sobs for their whole journey. Every moment together she wished she clung to him but didn’t. The nights during Winter when she couldn’t sleep unless she was right beside him. She cried for their nights in Jackson when she woke him up with her nightmares, crawling under the comforter with him. She cried for their quick goodbye hugs before he’d leave for patrol. She cried for when she would cling to his arm when they would meet other Jacksonfolk. She cried for the times he kissed her forehead or lightly rubbed her back when

She cried for their good days of practicing guitar, watching Jurassic Park, and living the life they never thought they’d get. The days she woke up to him cooking breakfast and they had orange juice. How he always gave her the slightly bigger portion so she’d eat more. The days when she helped him with little construction projects around Jackson. The days he’d visit her and Shimmer at the stables, always commending Ellie on how well she took care of him. Sometimes he’d help her out by brushing his mane. He needed the experience, she said.

She cried for their bad days of arguments, disputes, and going to bed angry. She always woke up to a note on her nightstand the mornings after. On patrol. I’m sorry about yesterday. I’d like to talk about it later if that’s alright with you. Be safe today. Love, Joel. They always reconciled, one of them cracking a joke at the end to lighten the mood. It was a miracle they were ever able to reconcile, considering how terrible they could both be at talking about their feelings. But they always managed in their own little way.

She cried for their estrangement. How she’d treated him the past two years; avoiding him at any cost. Glaring at him if he was in the immediate vicinity. Always finding an out if he approached her. She would go through Tommy to find out Joel’s schedule, all so she could work around it. She cried for how her smile faded even seeing him across town. The anger she harbored towards him those years, unable to see any hope or light at the end of the tunnel.

She cried for him. She cried for who he was. Who he is. All he ever did was protect her and ask her to be safe. His care for her was infinite and it nearly drove her insane. No one ever cared for her how he did. Every day, he did everything he could for her. Whether it be out on the road or in the security of Jackson, he never stopped caring. Never stopped protecting or loving. To show her a glimpse into Before; who he was Before.. To show her what having a family, a father, was like. He went above and beyond to give her the life she deserved, all because he wanted her to be happy. It was never about him.

She cried for the smiles she caught. The once-in-a-blue-moon toothy smiles where he truly laughed. His small chuckles or when he’d blow air out of his nose at some snarky remark she made. Sometimes he’d smile during their meals together. She thought it was weird at first when he told her “it’s not because of the food.” He was happy to just be with her. To have a sense of normalcy with this little girl. To escape from the horrors of infected outside the walls of Jackson and be able to sit at a wooden table and eat with proper plates and silverware for a full meal.

She cried over his gentleness. He was a violent man. He killed and tortured men for years and he was effective. But when it came to her, he was nothing but gentle. He always spoke softly, always held her as gently as his calloused, blood stained hands could manage. How any touch was feather-light and didn’t feel like it could come from someone known for notorious violence like Joel. But she was the exception. Her delicate, fourteen-year-old self brought out a side of him that he always believed was buried two decades prior.

She cried for missing his contact. They got so comfortable after Winter. Holding hands, hugs on the harder days, and the general proximity. They’d sit beside each other by the fire, and Joel would wake up with her head alarmingly close to him, some mornings on his thigh or shin. It became more frequent when they moved into Jackson. She was glued to his side any time they left the house; other residents of Jackson thought it was sweet. But, ever since the estrangement and shoving him away, she didn’t think they’d ever be this close again.

And through their estrangement, he was patient. He waited for her those years. He was heartbroken over it and she knew, but he was still patient, not knowing if she’d even come back or try to repair it. He stayed the whole time, still, patiently waiting. And if she never went back, he’d stay anyway, content with the time he had with her. He loved her too much to force it. She was alive, and that’s all that mattered to him.

And she was about to lose that man in mere hours.

She was draped across his lap now, face pressed into his neck as his was pressed into her hair. She sobbed into him, soaking his coat and button-up. His arms were wrapped around her, left arm cradling her head into him as his right was on her back, rubbing and tracing gentle patterns and designs through her shirt. She’d never be held like this again.

“Kiddo,” he spoke, breaking her concentration on the fabric of his shirt. “I’m startin’ to not feel too well.”

Ellie shut her eyes tight, tears spilling over immediately. “No. No, no, no, no, no. No, fuck. How much fucking time do you have? I still need time,” she pleaded.

“Time for what?”

“To just…just…be here. To be with you while you’re still…”

He gave her a look and she knew exactly what he meant. They didn’t have that time. His eyes would close soon enough, and it wouldn’t be Joel to open them again.

She wrapped her arms around his middle, sobbing into his chest once again. She was mumbling incoherences into his coat, wailing sobs coming out of her that didn’t even sound human. This was reality. She hadn’t felt it until now. She cried, she screamed bloody murder into his chest. He was dying. He was dead already.

He hugged her back as tight as he could manage. He was still injured, but injuries be damned if they ever stopped him from comforting or protecting her. She comes first.

“I need more time,” she weeped into his chest.

“I know, baby. But I don’t want you to see me like that. I don’t. I’d rather be gone before I have the chance to hurt you.” He kissed her head quickly once but held a longer one the second time, his eyes closing at the sound of her sobs at the lost contact between them. “Hey…” his mouth still in her hair, trying to keep himself from eating a mouthful of her auburn strands. “Baby…can you call for Tommy? I want to see him.”

She gave his shirt a few more shuddering hiccups before pulling away, stepping to the bottom of the staircase. “Don’t close your fucking eyes.”

She raced to the top of the stairs, skipping two or three at a time until she reached the door. It flew open, Ellie nearly collapsing to the floor as Tommy rushed to her side.

“Whoa, hey. The hell happened?” Tommy paused, his hand held inches above her shoulder. “Did he-“

“He wants to talk to you,” she said, adjusting herself to sit on the floor she just collapsed on.

Tommy rushed down the stairs as Ellie stayed on the first floor of the mansion, her knees bent in front of her as her forearms draped over them, tears spilling down her face. She hugged her legs closer to herself, face burying in the space between her kneecaps. Joel was dying.

Tommy kneeled beside his older brother, seeing the bite immediately from Joel’s clothes still being pulled to the side. Tommy’s face went still, hands flexing into fists.

“How-“

“They tortured me with a runner. Bit me twice.” Joel’s breathing was shaky now. Emotion or the infection taking over, he wasn’t sure. “I’m not feeling well, Tommy.”

Tommy couldn’t respond. There was nothing to say. His big brother was dying. The last of his blood, his companion for life, his construction partner. Nothing prepares you for that, not even the world they live in.

“I’m sorry, brother.”

“Dammit, Joel,” he whispers, turning away to wipe his face. “What…you want me to get her out of here? Head back home like nothin’ happened? Let you run around as some fuckin’ infected and risk seeing you again in that state? Risk her seeing you that way?!”

“No…no.” Joel pulled his revolver from his belt, holding it out to Tommy. “Before she’s back downstairs. Please, Tommy. She can’t do something like this. Please, she can’t. I can’t have her…” he hesitates, unable to finish that thought. “I don’t want her seeing me as an infected, neither. I don’t want you seein’ that. Please, Tommy, you have to.”

Tommy’s response was immediate and sure. “I ain’t fucking shooting you, Joel.”

“You’ve killed hundreds of people, Tommy.”

“Those are hunters, Joel! People we fucking stole from ages ago! People who were the object of our grief! You’re my brother!”

“So do me the mercy of shooting me in the head.”

There’s a silence. A hard, cold, unbelievable silence between them. Tommy paced back and forth in front of Joel, anxiously messing with his hands as he imagines how any of this would play out. Where do I shoot him? Forehead? Temple? Chin? Will Ellie hate me? Will Maria hate me? What if I can’t take it like Joel couldn’t? What if Ellie attempts because she can’t take it?

“Please, Tommy, don’t let me turn. I don’t want you to see that. I don’t want her to see that. Fucking…Tommy, please.”

Tommy faces him head on, his eyes red, expression clear. “Do it yourself,” he bites, turning towards the stairs. He pauses at the bottom, hand gripping the railing. Fuck, that was a bad call.

“I love you, baby brother.”

Tommy’s chin drops to his chest as he pulls himself up the stairs, the sleeves of his coat wiping profusely at his face. His head burns. He opens the door and Ellie is still there, hugging herself on the floor, knees brought to her chest as she weeps in front of him.

Tommy doesn’t say a word, only grabs his rifle from the back of the couch and takes watch at the front door again. Ellie watches him, confused. He’d say something, right? Right?

She fumbles getting up, throwing the door back open as she rushes back down to Joel.

The crown of his head is pressed against the glass behind him, eyes closed tight as tears pool down the sides of his face and into his ears, some falling and dripping off his jaw. She can see his shoulders and abdomen jump with each sob. He has never looked like this before.

He lifts his head from the glass, meeting her eyes as she kneels back beside him. He sought her hand this time, holding it tight. His eyes are red and there are wet streaks along his cheeks and jaw.

They sat there in silence, Ellie attentively playing with his fingers as he occasionally sniffed, trying to push those emotions far away from her to see. Joel cleared his throat and adjusted his back as best he could against the glass.

“Listen-“ he started, a gentle graze of his thumb over her hand.

“No.”

“Ellie-”

“Joel, stop…stop…”

“You don’t even know-“

“I know exactly what you want to fucking say. No.”

He freed his hands from hers, picking the revolver up from the floor beside him. He picked both her hands up again, placing the gun tightly in her grip. “It’s fully loaded. No Russian roulette, nothing.”

“Russian roulette?”

He laughed wetly. “Get Tommy to explain it to you.”

“I want you to.” He’d never get to explain anything to her after this.

He smiles briefly. She’s like a little kid asking to get her way, and he’d be damned if he didn't explain it.

“It’s a…dangerous game. You put one round in the chamber, spin it, place it against the body, and you fire at your own head. Your fate is up to chance.” He rubs his thumb over hers. “But there’s no chance with this.”

She gripped the revolver, staring at it. “…Is that why Tommy walked away? Did you ask him?”

He nodded. “He told me to do it myself.”

Well, why can't you?

And it’s almost like Joel can sense the question from a mile away.

“I’m afraid I’ll flinch again.” His voice cracks on again. “With the infection already startin’ to take root I…”

“Joel…I can’t fucking shoot you. I won’t.”

“I don’t want you to see me like that. I don’t want to feel whatever it is they feel. I don’t know if I’ll know it’s you and won’t be able to control what I’m doin’. I don’t want to give you another bite. I don’t want to give you something else that’ll keep you up at night. When you think of me, I don’t want that to be what you picture. I don’t want to tear you apart.”

Joel succumbs to a coughing fit and nearly coughs up blood as he leans forward, Ellie pounding on his back. Joel heaves as his head hangs above his legs, Ellie rubbing his back gently. It’s Riley all over again. Joel sits back up against the glass and exhales heavily as Ellie brings their hands back together. This is going fast.

Ellie hesitates, absentmindedly squeezing his hand tighter. “What if I forget what you look like? What if I shoot you through the face and that’s all I see from now on? What if I can’t remember your face? What if I try to draw you and all I see is a bullet hole between your eyes? What if I can’t remember your nose or your mouth or your eyes or-“

She was rambling and furiously wiping the tears away from her cheeks now. Joel brought his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks. He rubbed his thumbs across her cheeks multiple times, wiping from her nose to her ear lobes, and spoke. “What color are my eyes?”

She stared at him for a minute, eyes threatening to spill over again. She looked down to the space between them, avoiding his gaze. “Brown.”

“Hey.” He said firmer, forcing her to look at him. “What color are my eyes?”

She stared at him for a minute, keeping the contact. “Brown,” she said, still skeptical.

“Ellie, baby…what color are my eyes?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat and exhaled. “Brown. Your…your eyes are brown. Your eyes are brown,” she breathed, almost relieved to say that back to him. “Your eyes are brown and your…your nose has a little arch to it. You have the scar on your temple and the one on your nose, too.” She hesitated for a minute, lightly laughing to herself. “You have these two little patches in your beard where you don’t have any hair-“

“Alright,” he rolled his eyes, smiling back at her. He brought her head towards him, pressing a kiss to her hairline before pulling her away again.

“Your hair is a mix of black and white. Your ears sit close to your head and you have these two little creases between your eyes, too.”

He smiled at her again. This is what he wanted. After how she expressed the fear of forgetting what he looked like, this is what he wanted for her. What she needed. For her to know she could remember him. That if she drew him, if she remembered him, she remembered him, not something else.

She lightly smiled back. “The corners of your eyes crinkle when you smile, too. Sometimes there’ll be three or four if you laugh hard.”

She noticed the small things in him. She had him perfectly pictured in her mind, down to the minute details of his eye crinkles. But she didn’t do it just so she could remember his face; it was because she loved him. Because she loved them- those little, physical quirks he’d nearly forgotten about himself.

He smiled bigger, just for that.

Her smile faded fast, reality coming back to her. “Your eyes crinkle when you smile…” she trailed off, looking down as she took his hands from her face and into her hers, placing them in their laps. She was never going to him smile again.

“C’mere,” he asked and she climbed back against him, contorting herself against his chest as her cheek pressed against his heart. Her right hand had a section of his flannel balled up into her fist, clinging to what she still had left of him. Her left was in her lap, fidgeting with his fingers.

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, Ellie attentively playing with his fingers to distract herself from their fate approaching at a rapid rate. She crossed them over each other, intertwined hers with his, balled his hands into fists, and held his every way she knew how.

The longer they sat, the more labored his breathing became. She could feel him fading; dying. He could, too. It was getting harder to breathe. Deeper inhales were needed for almost every other breath. He was lightheaded; dizzy. His head was dropping more, like his neck muscles were giving out. The infection was getting far. It was a network at this point, vines emerging from his shoulder into his neck and chest; it resembled tree roots. He was sweating and getting hot. This was going way too fast.

“Babygirl…”

“No,” she whimpered into his chest, holding that ball of his flannel tighter.. “No, Joel. Please…stop.”

“Ellie, we’re risking it. I’m…I’m going, kiddo. I can tell.”

She curled herself tighter into his lap, bending her knees and bringing them closer to her face as they fell against his chest. He pulled his hands from hers, wrapping them tighter around her. She’s always been so small, and right now was no exception. She fit into him so easily, completely encapsulated by his embrace.

Ellie was trembling with sobs; a mix of hiccups, hyperventilating, and a wailing that any clicker could hone in on from miles away. She felt like she was falling apart. His embrace is supposed to offer her support and stability, not make her feel like they’re nowhere to be found. Security and protection, and yet she feels open, vulnerable, and exposed.

Her fist in his flannel moved to his arm, her left arm following as she held onto his forearms, trying to ground herself in his embrace and how she should feel against him.

He’s practically dead. Maybe that’s why; it’s barely him at this point. The infection is taking him from her. And that is as much of a reason she needs to go through with this. What feels terrible to her is a thousand times worse for him. He’ll be with Sarah. He’ll be free.

“Baby,” he started. He hadn’t called her that in years before today. And she had already lost count of the amount of times he’d used it within the last few hours. She’s never gonna hear it again. “Hey, look at me, please.” She pulled away and scooted off his lap slightly, her legs still draped across him. His hands found her cheeks, his hold noticeably weaker. He smiled at her.

This little girl. His little girl. He smiled at her; because of her. The little girl who attacked him (and Tess) when they first met. Who did nothing but cling to his side because he protected her. I need something smuggled out of the city. To you, she’s cargo. But then there was Henry and Sam, nights together on the road, car rides, Jackson (a glimpse into their future), a life threatening injury, and her life on the line. And somehow…it became more than a job. She became more than just cargo. Somewhere along the way, the fortified walls built up around him were torn down by her. He protected, provided, and cared for her. He nurtured her. He reassured her. He held her tight and called her “babygirl.” He saw more importance in holding her hand through a night sleep than he did in keeping watch over them.

Eventually, that cargo was hearing him sing and being taught guitar. That smuggler was stringing up lights around her makeshift home in their her garage. Somewhere along the way, two unrelated survivors of the world, brought together as a job, were walking hand-in-hand down the streets of their new home together.

At first, she seemed to just be a replacement for Sarah; her ghost following him everywhere. Those nightmares becoming more prevalent when Ellie entered the picture; a constant reminder of his failure to Sarah. But then Ellie wormed her way in with that terrible pun book, atrocious vocabulary for a fourteen-year-old, and non-stop questions which kept him awake (and annoyed) that did him in. She started to become her own person to him; an opportunity. A second chance at fatherhood. To feel and embrace the love that gave him the greatest twelve years of his life. To continue where he left off with it all. And motherfuckers be damned if anything was going to get in his way of loving his little girl again.

“I love you,” and fuck, he looked heartbroken and in love. This was the first and last time she'd ever hear him say it. Regretful.

She smiled back at him. It was always understood between them; they didn’t have to say it. She wanted to say it before he left for patrol or before she went…anywhere without him. But a quick hug, kiss on the head, and a “be safe,” was his way of saying it every day. For her, it was always a tight hug paired with, “If you die, I’m gonna kill you,” or a similar endearment. They had their ways, and that was enough.

But right now, he needed her to know for sure.

Joel took in another shaky breath. He was falling. “I love you…so much, babygirl.” His hold was so soft as he rubbed his thumb over her cheek again.

His face was enough to tell her everything. They got really good at the whole ‘silent communication’ thing. A certain look in his eye or the way his eyebrows sat was all she needed. And now, his eyes were gentle. He looked like he did when he gave her the tape of the space launch three years ago. He looked like he did when he heard Linda Ronstadt on that tape after so many years. He looked like he did when she’d treat him extra father-like to really sell it to other Jacksonfolk. His expression looked like…the same it always did when he looked at her.

Everything he ever did was for her. Trying to send her away with Tommy, shoving her away from him in that basement, massacring the fireflies, and every decision in between was made because he loved her, and that came before anything else. He didn’t need to expand on any of it; she knew now.

Her anger was palpable during the estrangement. Her trust was broken, she was betrayed, disappointed, and angrier than she knew what to do with. She didn’t hate him, though. She struggled for a long time, but it never turned to hatred. And the realization of that for her is as clear to her now as it may ever be, considering how easily she answers. Like they were never estranged.

“I love you, too,” she responds, the same expression on her face. I just heard him say his last words. He just heard my last words to him.

He pulls her head forward, pressing his forehead to hers. Her hands come up to his wrists, holding on to him. She slows her breathing to match his, earning one last sliver of comfort from him.

She pulls his hands away, placing them in the space between them as she leans to the side, picking the revolver back up. She fiddles with it in her hands, trembling as she grips the trigger. She pulls her legs off from how they’ve been draped across him and tucks them under her, sitting on her heels.

She loosely places the barrel of the revolver against his temple, Joel flinching at the familiar contact.

His right hand came up to her face, bringing her head down once more, kissing her hairline once and resting his lips there briefly. A second one, just for good measure. “I love you so damn much, babygirl,” he whispers, tears from his own cheeks hitting her forehead. He leans back, the crown of his head hitting the glass.

Ellie grabs at his hands in his lap, the two of them fighting for who can hold the other tighter. Both his hands come around her left as she pulls the hammer back. Tears drip off her chin into the mess of their hands in his lap.

He shuts his eyes tight as she exhales.

“I’m sorry. I love you-”

bang.

His body jumps against her, his hands immediately releasing her left as his head falls to the side.

“Joel?” She whispered, watching his face. She dropped the revolver, cupping his face upright. “Hey, Joel. Look at me. Joel, fucking look at me! Fuck..dammit Joel, fucking look at me, asshole. Look at me!” Every other word was a sob. “Fuck��you’re…why did I do this. Why did I listen to you, why did I…” she sobbed, pressing her forehead against his, gripping his neck tight. “Please…please, don’t do this. Come back, Joel. Please, please come back. Please…” she pleaded, tears spilling down her chin into his empty hands. “Joel…come on. We were…I was…I told Dina I was going to invite you over. Curtis and Viper 2…I found it. I was gonna ask you…fuck…fuck…I know you would…you would’ve said yes…” Her throat was burning up. She brought her hands around the back of his neck, bringing his face into the crook of her shoulder as she rested her chin atop his head, her right hand combing through his hair gently. “...We were gonna…we were gonna be okay.” she choked. Were.

The basement door swung open and Tommy stormed down the stairs, his beretta in hand as his arm was extended out in front of him. He was coming back to do it. Tommy stopped a few feet behind Ellie, Joel’s head still tucked into her neck.

“Ellie…”

Ellie was sobbing into Joel’s hair, Tommy at a loss of what to do, if anything, for her. “He was going fast…we…I had to.”

Tommy’s breath caught in his throat as he noticed the wound in his brother’s temple, blood still pouring out. Ellie was drenched.

HIs voice was quiet, completely different to how he sounded barreling down the stairs seconds prior. “I was gonna get my shit together…I-I would’ve done it, sweetheart.”

Ellie pushed past that. Can’t go back now. “We need to…wrap him up. Sheets, towels, something…”

Tommy acknowledged silently, walking back upstairs without another word.

Ellie stayed there, kneeling on that cold basement tile with Joel’s face tucked into her neck. He was heavy now as dead weight. Joel’s hands were still open in his lap, pools of Ellie’s tears still present in the creases of his palms. “You were alive three minutes ago and now we have to wrap up your fucking corpse…” She pulled his face away from her neck, holding it in front of her. His eyes were half shut. She opened his left eyelid slightly, checking for life. She had to be sure. Sure enough, nothing. The eyes that held so much light, gentleness, and love were void of…anything now. No crinkles in the corner of his eyes, and the brown of his irises even felt faded.

She stayed like that, studying his face. The second Tommy is back, Joel will be wrapped up, his face covered and his body wrapped up as he’s put six feet under, never to be unraveled again. She needed this now, to make sure she memorized everything, even through the tear-filled lens of her vision. Those patches in his beard, the arch of his nose, his temple and nose scars, the shape of his ears, the way the front of his hair curls on a good day, the brown of his eyes, and those crinkles she never once took for granted that sat so openly at the corners of his eyes.

She’d never see those crinkles again.

~~~~

Tags: @not-so-mundane-after-all @sentientmasstransit @memelovescaps @tloubraininfection @tlouobsessed @fieldsoftulips @bejeweledmp3 @swol-bear @cassianendor @bluestar22x @elliiewiilliiams @longl0ngtime @dilf-din @therebedragcns @joelxmiller @scootkiddo @astrasomnium @fallenstar07 @novemberrain-writes @hooptedoodley

#I am so unbelievably tired #my eyes are half shut fixing all this into tumblr #so i apologize if soemthing is wrong #I am sos sososo tired #I know in a lot of cases I used a mix of ending some words or phrases in s or es and some in d or ed #which I know is a bit of inconsistency #I can’t remember the actual word #so i apologize #fell asleep fixing this up and then I woke up at almost 7am and finished it so. #hopefully it all makes sense #if it doesn’t it’s bc I was fixing it up half asleep #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller #ellie williams #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #L writes

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together

Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff

A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

6 Days Ago

“Looks comfortable.” 

Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?” 

“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door. 

“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!” 

“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner. 

Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega. 

Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know. 

Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door. 

It’s going to be a long week. 

Present Day

It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent. 

You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller. 

He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged. 

He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat. 

Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much. 

“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things. 

Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?” 

“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.” 

Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.” 

Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?” 

Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.” 

“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks. 

Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”

“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom. 

He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom. 

“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.” 

“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable. 

“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. 

“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.” 

He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips. 

“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.” 

You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert. 

“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up. 

You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort. 

Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room. 

He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega. 

Their omega. 

It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient. 

He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right. 

Maybe they did need you after all. 

Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water. 

Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while. 

“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back. 

“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.” 

Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?” 

“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.” 

Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.” 

Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both. 

“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?” 

“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room. 

Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.

Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest. 

You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips. 

“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back. 

You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain. 

You went into heat. 

You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark. 

Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over. 

You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs. 

You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears. 

You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week. 

You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort. 

You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.

He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this. 

His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence. 

“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?” 

“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb. 

“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.” 

John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure. 

“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.” 

“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks. 

“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.” 

“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.

“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.” 

Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.” 

“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done. 

Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.” 

A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all. 

3 Days Ago

“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”

“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him. 

“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”

“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.” 

“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”

Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”

“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could. 

“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks. 

“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.

Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again. 

“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant. 

“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks. 

Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame. 

He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.

“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face. 

“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days. 

“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?” 

Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.” 

“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall. 

Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw. 

“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside. 

“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.

Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.” 

“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent. 

“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases. 

Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through. 

Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in. 

“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-” 

“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.” 

“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.” 

Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible. 

Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh. 

“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.” 

“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still. 

Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-” 

Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face. 

“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.” 

Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it. 

Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta. 

“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.” 

Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees. 

“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.” 

“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha. 

“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.” 

“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. 

A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it. 

“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says. 

“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s. 

Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks. 

“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole. 

“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass. 

Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.” 

“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.” 

Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either. 

He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before. 

More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets. 

Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again. 

“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again. 

“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.” 

“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.” 

Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank. 

“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again. 

Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further. 

“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.” 

“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise. 

“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.” 

Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more. 

“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”

“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”

Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!” 

Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is. 

“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!” 

Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done. 

They’re both in for a long night. 

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph 

#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #x reader #captain price x reader #John price x reader #gaz x reader #Kyle gaz Garrick x reader #soap x reader #John soap mactavish x reader #Simon Riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader #a/b/o #alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics #Omegaverse

[anadiasmount]

doing the calling my boyfriend ‘husband’ trend on jude while you do a grwm + diml !! just know he’d be so shy and giddy 😚😚

OHHH MY GOD!! YESS!! our hubby indeed 😣🤞🏻

your day had consisted of pure media filming, for your tiktok, instagram, youtube, and a small blog you had owned. you woke up early so film a get ready filming bits of you and your boyfriends private life, making breakfast, walking outside and working out together, cooking, and now doing a get ready.

you’d seen the popular trend circling around where you called your boyfriends husband on tiktok, especially that one video that made you physically wince and pained you with the one guy being passive aggressive and denying it. you with jude that wouldn’t be the case.

because any chance he got he would call you pet names and his girlfriend. ‘my girlfriend’, ‘my girl’, ‘my angel’, ‘my dearest girlfriend’, ‘my wifey’, all that. he often got teased at the internet, not afraid of hiding and showing his protectiveness of you, a hand on you at all times or letting them know you were his.

jude had left quickly to pick up some shoes he’d ordered, which gave you plenty of time to hide a extra camera and your phone to record his reaction to the prank. while you waited you showed of new sets of clothes that came in, along with other pr packages that were sent to you

jude hand returned when you were finishing your brows, handing you a blue gatorade and snacks to munch on as you filmed, greeting the camera and giving you a peck on your lips. “sorry guys, my handsome and lovely husband just brought me some goodies,” you apologized showing the treats and opening them.

even though you couldn’t see, you felt and sensed jude tensing and pausing what he was doing. “as you know and have seen, i will be launching new items soon on my blog! my husband jude has helped me organize this drop for months so i’m super excited for you all to see and buy!” you smiled blending out your baking powder underneath your eyes.

jude smiled inwards, looking at you who was distracted by perfecting your contour and blush. he asked himself if this was one of your pranks or if it just naturally fell from your lips, either way, he couldn't hide the adoration built in his chest at hearing you call him 'husband'.

he didn't understand why all of a sudden he felt nervous and unable to look you in the eyes, with shaky hands as he attempted to open his own snacks and bottled water. he felt a hot and loving sensation in his chest, having the urge now to be close to you.

you heard jude shuffle around, grabbing a random bean bag and sitting next to you where you were almost finished with your makeup. he complimented how you looked, asking questions about what you used and if you were close to finishing. you smirked knowing you had a small reaction out of him, jude was now all soft and charming.

hours later, you were editing all the content from your phone and camera onto your laptop, sitting on the kitchen island as jude was busy away cooking. you felt like continuing the prank so you grabbed your phone and did just that.

"welp, it's the end of the day! I'm very much tired but i made a lot of content for you guys so stay tuned! on the nights we're together my dearest husband cooks for us, and tonight he's making chicken with pasta," you say kinda loudly, walking over to judge and laying your head on his bicep.

jude cleared his throat, letting out a nervous chuckle and smiling shyly. he nervously stirred the cause, listening to you blabbering about your day and skincare products. "i have to pee, but i'll leave my husband to explain the recipe and what he's making," you say in a hurry, leaving jude with words in his mouth and the phone, as you ran off.

you watched from a corner a stuttering mess of jude as he went on and on listening to the ingredients and spices he mixed for dinner. grabbing your phone with his free hand showing the mess in the kitchen and the food that was almost ready to be done.

you acted like nothing happened, pecking jude's cheek when returning. "i have a question," he said curiously avoiding eye contact with you, leaning on the counter. you interlocked your hands resting them under your chin with innocent eyes. "is there a reason you've been calling me your husband today?"

"you don't like it?"

"no baby i do! but i was just wondering since you never call me that... you did it earlier today and i noticed it," he said, you tried not to laugh on the spot at his uneasy state. "am i your husband? need to know because i can't recall the day we got married," he joked.

"it's a tiny prank," you admit seeing jude roll his eyes and lean away from you. "of course it is," jude said seriously with a small frown on his face. you followed him apologizing over and over again with a laugh, jude feeling a small pang of sadness wave over him. "jude," you call out, trying to get his attention but he refused moving or backing away.

"prank or no prank, i hope you still know your my hubby, that's what i have you saved on your contact handsome," you admit, seeing a glint of happiness reach his brown eyes again. "really?" you nod, "I'll show once you say bye."

he quickly said bye, kissing the camera on turning it off, grabbing you, and setting you on the marble counters. he kissed you deeply, blowing your breath away at his certain dominance, your heart warmed as he gently grabbed your left hand and placed the slightest kisses on your ring finger.

"i hope you know that one day i'll be your husband, and you will be my wife forever."

#judey thoughts 5️⃣ #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb

[if-loves]

mad man.

// Yandere Sunday

sum: Did you know? The thoughts of a mad man are hard to spy on.

wc: 1610

warnings: maybe OOC sunday

a/n: i took some liberties with the whole halovians and telepathy through their halos thing so yea lol

likes & reblogs are appreciated! asks are more than welcome ❤️

You’ve always prided yourself on being an attentive person.

As a Halovian, your job is to expand the influence of the Harmony. Some do so by joining the Oak Family and dealing in politics, while others join the Iris Family and become celebrities. You are no different, initially joining the Oak Family to become a diplomat, only to be then promoted to be one of Sunday’s trusted assistants.

The nature of the work is similar to that of a diplomat, but on a smaller scale as you only deal with Penacony. Although your dream of traveling the cosmos is left to gather dust, you have to admit that you are quite satisfied with your work. Sunday is a benevolent leader and boss who has done nothing but made you feel comfortable.

He compliments the detail of your reports and notes, even going so far as to say that it “is far more organized and detailed than his”, even though you don’t believe him at all. As much as you admire his work ethic and how he’s managed to lead Penacony to new heights, he’s not someone that you’d wish to be… friends with.

You’ve always prided yourself on being able to read people, an invaluable skill especially for a Halovian, but you find that no matter how hard you try, you’ve never been able to get anything out of Sunday. The only thing you’ve been able to gather from him is… nothing. Every action, expression, word, is all calculated and planned, like a mixed yet carefully measured dose of nectar and poison.

His sister, Robin, has a much friendlier appearance, although you do recognize that the nature of her work probably demands that of her; she’s rarely around, so you don’t think too much about her. She’s not the one who writes your paycheck.

Sunday, on the other hand…

Logic tells you that considering his position as the head of the Oak Family, he is no stranger to cruelty. Politics is never sweet, and if it was, then it was a poison coated in a thick layer of honey. This applies to all aspects of it, including dealings with other planets, and especially to anything related to the IPC. This also applies to internal affairs, from the heads of each family down to every family member, no matter how insignificant their role may seem to be.

Sunday is biding his time for something, and you want to know what.

You’ve seen hints of his oddities, the slightest cracks of his facade. You’ve seen a lot more than others, but you don’t think you’ll ever see enough that could satisfy your curiosity - not unless it’s all of him.

And so, you watch. You watch as he sits in meetings on end, facade never once cracking. You watch as he scans over your reports, the same, default smile on his face. He compliments your work again, but it is all white noise to you. You can’t say you’re surprised at the lackluster results of your observations, for a predator such as he is always on guard, yet also always ready to strike. His true self is buried in dreams he will never have.

It is in your house that you come to a realization of sorts - you’re a Halovian. You can use telepathy, and in your special case, if you try hard enough, you can even take the smallest peek into his head. That is, if you’re willing to risk it.

You’ve never had good experiences with the mind reading thing you can do. It always results in immediate nausea and pounding headaches as if you’ve had one too many SoulGlads, and it often leaves you so exhausted you nearly always collapse on the spot. There’s never been anyone worth using it on, not until Sunday.

Is this curiosity worth feeding? You don’t quite know.

It’s at a bar that you reflect upon these thoughts, swirling your glass of… well, you didn’t exactly ask for anything specific, just sweet. The bartender, you think his name is Gallagher, is wonderful at what he does. You don’t see him often, but something about him feels familiar, like he’s someone you know but you can never quite put your finger on who. But the familiarity and liquid courage encourages a conversation, and if you’re falling, you only hope that the landing kills you instantly.

“Gallagher, is it?” You ask, eyes still trained on your drink, cheek resting on your hand.

“Yes. And you are (Y/n), I presume?” He replies, neither sparing you a glance.

“How’d you know?” You can’t even be bothered to sound surprised.

“Everyone knows Sunday’s favorite assistant.”

“Mr Sunday isn’t one to play favorites.”

“Is that so?”

Silence follows afterwards, soft jazz and the chatter of visitors the only sounds.

“I am curious about something, but I don’t know if I should really pursue it.” The words spill out of your mouth for you, the alcohol their water.

“Should you really be taking advice from a stranger?” For the first time he glances at you, hands still working on whatever concoction was asked of him, but his eyes on you.

“It’s either a stranger or me, so both choices aren’t great.”

“Hm. Well,” he shrugs, eyes back to the mixture of liquids, “I’d say, go for it.”

“…Thanks.” With a last swig of your drink, you fish out your credits and set them on the counter, walking out of the bar, the squawk of a crow your announcement of exit. Have you gained clarity, or are you stepping straight into the jaws of the monster? Only time will tell.

Gallagher watches your back when you leave, and he smiles.

A ball is happening on Penacony, and Sunday has enlisted you to accompany him.

You’re less than happy, but dress yourself appropriately. Sunday’s reputation is directly related to yours, and you’d rather not deal with the repercussions of both the public and Sunday himself.

Although this ball was out of your plans, you think that you have an opportunity. Sunday will be busy speaking to other representatives and guests, and you’ll be left to the corner to keep an eye on potentially rowdy guests. The halo floating behind you tells everyone all they’d ever need to know about you.

Sunday is speaking on the stage when you decide to risk it all. You look around you to see all the guests paying close attention to the stage, and none of them could care less about you, for the ball is coming to its end. With quiet steps, you retreat into the nearest bathroom, eyes still trained on Sunday’s distant figure.

Your halo vibrates behind you, trying desperately to connect itself to his, but as the speech draws to an end, you’ve come up with nothing but a very real nothing. Despite all your efforts, you could not peek into his mind, and it makes you wonder just how guarded is he?

You can vaguely hear his closing words, but what really shakes you is an announcement of one last dance. This wasn’t in the schedule - and Sunday loves order over anything else.

In quick steps, you are back to where you stood the whole night, a stiff and strained smile on your face. You don’t attempt to search for Sunday in the crowd, for you are not even sure you could dare to face him after what you tried to do.

Instead, it is he who finds you; Sunday of the Oak Family, dressed elegantly in a white suit, his halo seemingly glowing behind his head, his wings fluttering to the sound of the music. You wonder if he does it consciously.

“Shall we dance, my dear assistant?” He holds his gloved hand out for you, and you feel one too many pairs of eyes watching for you to be able to reject. And so, you take his hand.

He leads your steps gently, twirling you, dipping you, his face mere inches from yours. He doesn’t complain when you step on his shoes, nor when you stumble clumsily; he takes it all in stride, never once letting you go. Even when others change their partners, he chooses to stay with you.

It’s almost so easy to forget that Sunday is the head of the Oak Family.

“Did you have fun?” He whispers into your ear, a placid smile on his face.

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“There’s no reason to be afraid, I won’t punish you.” He dips you perfectly, golden eyes boring holes into yours, but his grip tightens and ow, it’s starting to hurt-

“Sir, your grip-”

“If you want to know me so badly,” he turns you to face away from him, hand on your chin forcing you to stare at a violet crow, “then you should stop playing these games.”

The uneasiness settles in slowly, marinating in your belly. Then, like a house on fire, it spreads uncontrollably into every part of your body, before finally settling in your head, like a parasite feeding.

The dance is still gentle and elegant, much like the music being played, but to you, it is a violent, inhumane battle between escape and capture, freedom and imprisonment, life and death. Every twirl is a stab, every dip a shot, and every word is the nightmare transforming into reality.

The music comes to a close, and the guests all make their leave. Only you are left with the beast.

“Come, my dear. You have much to learn.” He smiles so genuinely, and it’s like he’s glowing. You think he looks like an angel. “Just as you wished for.”

Your halos touch.

#honkai star rail #yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #sunday #yandere sunday #sunday x reader #hsr sunday #hsr #yandere sunday x reader

[torasplanet]

❝𝙎𝙏𝙐𝘿𝙔 𝙎𝙀𝙎𝙃.ᐟ❞

A. ARLERT + YEAGER!F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; eren made your grade in history drop 'cause he's a fat jerk! so what better way to get back at your dear brother than to fuck his best friend behind his back?

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, fluff, aftercare, riding, p in v, nerd!armin, kinda slut!reader, eren being eren, like two flashbacks, armin being a sorta good best friend, praise, petnames (baby), kinda switch!armin, childhood crush to lovers, reader having a HUGEE crush on 'minnie >o<, seduction, loverboy! armin, eren being jean's #1 h8r, round two hinted at end, college au, lingere, armin wears glasses cuz i said so >:( !!, kinda sappy, unedited might do it l8r idk, science shit cuz im a nerd, skin color not mentioned

Eren was the worst big brother ever. 

You wouldn’t have chosen to live with him if housing wasn’t so expensive and you two didn’t go to the same college because he’s annoying as shit. He always holds it against you that you’re living with him whenever you tell him to leave you alone. He was probably the worst person ever to be honest and what he had done yesterday was not helping his case one bit.

See, eren was a coffee person and not one of those regular coffee people. The ones that go insane without their dark roast.

Not so surprising when he’s a college student but he’d never been once before being enrolled so you still weren’t used to him drinking it so when he went into your room saying he forgot something in there with a mug in his hand, you didn’t think much of it and stayed in your spot on the couch watching some random Netflix show you liked, you’d watched it a thousand times but it still entertained you but not enough that you didn’t hear eren curse from your room.

When you rushed up to go inside and ask what in the fuck he did, you couldn't even speak when you saw dark brown liquid spilled all over your five-page essay that was on your desk and there was no saving these, they were completely soaked and the words were mixing because of the wetness of the paper. You cursed your professor for making you write it on paper because this could easily happen. And with Eren being as clumsy as he is, of course, he was the one to make it happen.

He didn’t even care that much either! He just said ‘Whoops, sorry.’ and left, he didn’t offer to redo it for you or anything! And because of him, your grade in history has dropped by a lot. Like a B to an F-. You didn’t even know an F- was possible!

Eren was going to pay for this one way or another, but the issue with upsetting him was that Eren didn’t care about most things in the world. You could cut his hair in his sleep and he’d just get a new haircut, you could key his car and he’d be mad but he’d probably do worse to you. You could tell Mikasa about all the embarrassing dreams he’s had about her but he’d just deny it and then punch you later.

But the one thing that would send Eren off the rails was getting with one of his friends. Eren didn’t care if you were friends with his friends but if you even thought about liking one of them, he’d shut that shit down immediately. The idea of you getting with any of his friends disgusted him and he never wanted it to happen which is why you were going to do that; not only were you going to do that but you were going to do it behind his back which would just piss him off more once he eventually found out.

Sure it was extreme but it was the only thing that would actually fuck with him and that wasn’t your fault plus he was friends with a bunch of hot people…including, Armin.

Armin Arlert. Eren’s best friend since they were little kids, you often saw him a lot in your childhood and still saw him a lot in the present and you liked that. Armin was a cutie ever since you guys were young, even with his long hair he was a cutie but now that he cut it short, he was hot. So with your choice of revenge and Armin being hot, you practically had everything laid out.

You didn’t know how Eren would find out or if you would tell him but you got the seduction and the fucking part down! That’s all you needed honestly.

Most of this was so you could get back at Eren but at the same time, some of it was because you had the tiniest crush on Armin ever since you both were little kids. Even though you’ve fucked a bunch of guys, had them sleep over, and dated a lot, your micro feelings for Armin were always resting in the back of your head coming to the surface when you were alone in your room with your hand between your thighs in your panties and a pillow pressed to your face to block your moans.

You’ve been doing that for quite a while as you’ve wanted Armin for years.

Since his junior year and your sophomore when you two landed in the same mixed gym class, he had his blonde bob and wore glasses during that time but you still wanted him. That one class when some loser let his hand slip and hit you in the face with a dodgeball; Armin was helping you to your feet with his hand accidentally cupping your ass which he, of course, apologized for but you didn’t mind. Not at all.

You wanted to tell him that so badly but of course there was Eren ruining everything after he got done yelling at that loser for hitting you. For the first time ever, eren decided to be a good big brother and not let Zeke fill that role instead and take you to the nurse when all you wanted was for Armin to take you there. You thought you’d get him to take you another way if he did but of course, Eren had to be a cock-block even when you both got back to class.

“Ah is she okay!?” Armin asked loudly as he rushed over to you and Eren as you both walked through the gymnasium doors with you holding a paper towel to your nose that was just running with blood in hopes that it wouldn’t continue its rapid flow. Eren took his arm from around your shoulders as he hummed “Yeah, she’s okay. It’s not broken or anything.” Armin let out a relieved sigh at your brother's words as he pushed his rectangle-framed glasses up while you shamelessly stared at him in his gym uniform that seemed a little too tight for him. You could see his scrawny body with little to no muscle (he’s working on it okay!) through his shirt.

Armin made eye contact with you “That’s good, thought we’d have to call Zeke to get you.” He said sweetly which made a smile appear on your face but it quickly fell at the sound of your brother’s voice “Yeah, thought I’d have to get Ymir and beat the hell out of that guy.” Ugh, he was annoying. Eren knew he couldn’t kick anyone's ass even if he had Superman’s powers and yet he was still saying he would.

Of course, Armin looked at him concerningly but said nothing and shook his head before turning to you once more “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He told you comfortingly as he embraced you into a hug with his hands resting on your lower back, you wished that they went even lower like they did before but what he whispered next into your ear really made you want that “Don’t tell Eren about earlier, ‘kay? He’d be so mad.”

He said it like he meant to put his hands on your ass which contradicted his previous apology and it riled you up and made your childhood crush really blossom and now…you had finally gotten your chance to act out all those fantasies and thoughts you had due to his words and piss Eren off at the same time. It’s like a dream come true!

So when you were getting ready to go to Armin's dorm on college campus for your study session that was hopefully going to turn into more, you made sure to put on the cutest black lace thong with a matching bra that was practically see-through, you could see the darkness of your nipples showing through the fabric before you put on your skimpy top and tight-fitting shorts.

Falsies fluttered constantly as you looked through them peering up at Armin’s dorm door waiting for him to come and open the door for you and his study session. You perked up at the sound of the door unlocking before it opened revealing the blonde already staring at you but his gaze turned confused very quickly and you knew why. 

You looked stupid, didn’t you? Here for a study session and yet there was nothing in your hands, no books, no pencil, nothing. Everything you needed was in the pockets of your shorts, your phone, and of course a condom. “Hi Armin, can I come in?” You questioned looking him up and down, he was wearing the white tee and grey sweatpants combo that almost made you drop to your knees while foaming at the mouth clawing at the waistband of his pants in the middle of this hallway.

His blue eyes drifted down to your boobs that were practically out of your shirt but quickly returned to your face that had gained a promiscuous smirk at the drifting of his gaze “Uh y-yeah, sure.” Armin stammered shaking his head seemingly to snap himself out of a trance that your body put him in. He moved out of the way and let you walk inside the dorm room that he shared with Bertholdt but clearly, the male wasn’t here which would make this all the easier for you “So what do you need help with exactly, you didn’t bring anything?” Armin asked his voice less nervous than it was before as he closed the door and leaned against it while his eyes followed your body as you sat on the edge of his neatly-done bed kicking your shoes off.

You blinked your falsies at him as you leaned back on your palms “A lot, I just thought I’d watch you y’know…do some of the work.” You replied making sure to purse your glossy lips out a bit with your words as you gazed at the blonde that was inching closer to you “I think it’s easier if I watch someone like you do it.” It wasn’t a lie, you weren’t very good at science and Armin was but you were playing it up a little bit. Like you needed him…well you did just not in the way you were telling him.

Armin nervously crept over to his desk that had his PC and everything on it which was sometimes used to play video games loudly with Eren, Connie, and Jean but its main use was for school work “What do you mean?” He asked as you stood up grabbed a chair from Bertholdt’s side of the room and sat down right next to Armin who was glancing down at your cleavage and your thighs, and who knows what he was looking at when your back was turned. You never took Armin for a perv but you weren’t hating the idea of that.

“I mean smart people, eren’s useless so he can’t help me and Mikasa never has time. She’s always with Eren in his room.” You blabber watching as Armin’s blue eyes were focused on his computer screen which was now showing the science homework you two had and you saw all his little glimpses toward you and your chest but you didn’t say anything and sat there all pretty like you had no clue what he was doing. When for the first time ever you knew.

Whenever Armin talked about things he liked such as the ocean, ‘nerd stuff’, and whatnot, you were the only one who really listened. Like actually listened to the point when he referenced something from previous conversations, you were the only one who remembered every single thing. It was a miracle that no one knew about your crush, well no one cared to say anything because if pretty much any of the guys knew, they’d definitely say something and laugh at you for doing something so stupid that would make Eren murder someone.

Armin’s cheeks turned pink at the mention of Eren and Mikasa's private relations “What about the times he’s not?” You merely shook your head at his question as you watched him solve the science problems easily “It’s still easier to watch you. You’re smarter than Eren.” You said wrapping your arms around Armin’s and leaning against him snuggling your head into his shoulder and you felt Armin tense up at this action but he didn’t say anything about it.

“Thanks, (n/n),” Armin said with a sheepish smile as he glanced down at you before back at the computer screen. You placed your other hand on his thigh not wanting to waste any time here because Bertholdt could be back any minute, you didn’t even know where he was but you just didn’t want him to come back anytime soon.

A whimper let out from Armin’s lips as you began to rub his thigh gently moving your hand up closer to his crotch but only subtly though he could tell. Armin could tell anytime you touched him compared to someone else's no matter where you put your hands. Your hands were gentle when they touched him almost like you were scared to touch him. You weren’t.

You wanted to be as close to him as possible and savored every touch you got with him, you were definitely going to savor this night even if it was just a one-time thing “You’ve always been smart Armin…I thought it was cute.” You muttered softly as you looked up at the male who was already looking down at you nervously, his expression was so cute! His flushed face, his nervous gaze, and how he was nearly sweating just by your hand on his thigh.

“I still do y’know.” Your hand trailed up to the waistband of his sweatpants but you didn’t do anything but sink your fingertips past them just pulling them away from his skin and letting it slap back against his soft pale flesh. His skinny hand came down and placed itself on top of yours stopping you as you felt warmness overtake your skin “We–...We shouldn’t do this (n/n).” The blonde male said as he looked down at you like he was scared but he was obviously enjoying it with the movement you felt coming from his sweatpants.

The clacking of his keyboard had stopped and it was now silent in the room “Do you not want to?” You asked slowly drawing your hand away but his hand which was just resting on top of yours now had a tight hold on yours and was holding it in place which startled you, it was a drastic change from how gentle he always was with just his hand on yours.

Armin looked away as if he was ashamed of his actions “I just think Eren would be mad.” You knew that was coming soon, Armin was a lot of things, and stupid was definitely not one of them, not even a little bit and you knew he’d catch onto what you were trying to do and tell you something about Eren and blah blah blah but you obviously didn’t care much for that, only what he really wanted to do.

With his hold on your hand, it’s obvious he didn’t want you to go anywhere but you still had to make sure “But do you want to?” You questioned again ignoring his previous statement about your brother and how he might disapprove of it. Eren was a dick and if he wanted to play that card, you could too. You could be a dick by riding his best friend’s.

Armin stared down at you for a while thinking about what he should say and what it would mean if he said something “Yes but–” With that, your fingers went back to his waistband but this time you were gently pulling them down but not completely yet, just teasingly “...what if eren finds out? He’ll be so mad at me.” Armin continued saying those words he said in high school but a bit differently and the context behind it was very different and not just a small accident.

You glanced down at the band of his Nike Pros before looking back up at him through your lashes “I don’t care. Why do you? You want it right?” Armin was quick to nod at your question making a smile stretch across your glossy lips as you ran the tip of your finger over the Nike Logo on his boxers “Yeah…I guess he doesn’t have to find out, right?” Armin said leaning back in his chair his eyes locked on your fingers just wanting them to inch closer to his crotch nearly bitting into the softness of his pink bottom lip that was almost the same color as the apples of his cheeks that showed his enjoyment and flustered feeling.

You shook your head not breaking eye contact with him “I won’t say anything.” You said seductively allowing your hands to slip past the waistband of his boxers and into the small bush of his blonde pubes before lowering it further to his cock.

Armin’s back arched slightly as he felt your hands wrap around him “I w-won’t say anything either.” He sputtered out as you moved your hand up and down while remaining eye contact with him, god you were such a bitch. Keeping eye contact with him while slowly jerking him off knowing it’d make him more embarrassed and completely bricked.

You leaned up releasing your hold on his arm and pressing a kiss to his lips that were letting out small whimpers and grunts. It grew sloppy very fast with Armin being eager. His hips were bucking up into your hand and his hands were just by his side not knowing where to go or what to touch, maybe your wrist? Your waist? Your shoulder? Or should he just keep them where they were? His mind was full of just you and only you that he couldn’t even think straight and you hadn’t even really begun to do anything yet.

You moaned into his mouth as he did the same before gently pulling away with a thin string of saliva connecting you two, your lip gloss was now on his lips and even around it, you could only imagine what it looked like on your lips now. Armin watched as your head tilted down to the movement you were causing in the confinements of his pants before you looked right back at him tilting your head curiously.

“Can I?” Armin wasn’t sure exactly what you were asking here but he had an idea so he nodded ferociously but when your hand left his pants, he got confused.

When he saw you beginning to take off your panties and shorts in one go, that’s when he caught on and began to do the same. He lifted his hips to slide off his grey sweatpants and then his all-black Nike Pros allowing both of the clothing articles to pool at his ankles as he sat there awkwardly waiting for you.

You grinned up at Armin before transferring yourself to his lap using it as a chair but you were just hovering over him now with your knees on each side of him supporting your body as you lined him up with your dripping cunt.

Armin’s hands instinctively went to your waist as you rested on his shoulders. The male stared up at you as you carefully perfected the lineup to make sure he didn’t miss the hole, he’d wanted you for the longest and he finally was going to get you. I mean, this wasn’t how he was planning on it going down, he was going to ask you out and then you guys would get to this part but this was okay too. It was great actually because he didn’t know if he could wait until you two started to date to get some of you. He definitely could not but good thing you’re a slut right?

A loud moan left your mouth as you slowly lowered yourself onto Armin’s cock making him throw his head back while he leaned back in his chair.

His back arched as you fully sunk, his legs spread allowing you to bottom out as you let out a whimper at Armin’s nails digging into the bare flesh of your hips harshly surely leaving indents there “Are you okay?” Armin asked as he managed to open his eyes and look at you reaching up one of his hands to cup your cheek carefully.

That’s one of the things you loved most about him. He was always thinking about other people. You were sure Armin was losing his mind right now by the way he was scarcely thrusting up into you and the grunts in between his words and yet he was still making sure you were okay when you were way more than okay. Nearly losing yourself in how full you felt but you were still feeling amazing.

You nodded your head as you smiled at him “Of course. Are you?” Armin nodded silently at your question taking in the warmth of being inside you and how tight you were, squeezing him every other second. You began to play with his hair slicking it back and running your fingers through it making a mess of the beautiful blonde locks. You wish you’d been able to do this when he had his long hair but this was just as enjoyable.

Armin leaned in for a kiss again which you happily obliged to. The kiss started sweet and soft as your hands went to his neck holding onto him for support as you began to grind on him rubbing your thighs against his which made the brutal feeling of his nails piercing into your skin grow. You and Armin's tongues fought for dominance with it quickly ending with Armin taking control, you’d like to say you let him but you didn’t. He won the battle and got a little rougher with his win.

He kissed you harsher as he pulled you closer to his body. Armin lifted you taking you by surprise before slamming you back down on him making you shout into the kiss and biting down onto Armin’s lip “Sorry…” You muttered as you broke the kiss watching as Armin touched his bottom lip which was bleeding a bit before looking down at the tip of his finger “It’s fine. Just keep going, baby.” You couldn’t even think of a response and just continued your grinding but this time you were bouncing a bit closing your eyes as you moaned.

Armin’s hand snuck up your shirt and under your bra squeezing your boob roughly as he went and buried his face in your neck kissing and sucking on you, covering the bare skin with purple marks some darker than others. His nails released their hold on your skin and his hand trailed down to your butt harshly groping it as he bit down on your neck smearing the blood of his lip all over your neck.

“Fuck.” You cursed getting quicker with your pace as you fucked yourself on his cock while whimpering like a slut. It’s a little crazy how Armin was just the one that was whimpering a second ago but now you were and he was the cause. 

You never pictured Armin as a rough lover. In your fantasies, he was always so gentle, so calm, his fingers softly trailing over your skin as he whispered comforting words into your ears. Nothing like how he was in reality, biting you, covering you in hickies, creating indents in your skin from how rough he was grabbing you.

You weren’t necessarily complaining, it just took you by surprise and you didn’t know how to react other than with your moans of delight “So pretty. You put this on for me?” Armin asked as he backed away from your neck leaning right back in his chair as he lifted your shirt revealing the lacy bra, you didn’t even say anything and just nodded rapidly while continuing to moan “Was for me to take off or look at ‘cus...I don’t know which one I wanna do.” The blonde cooed looking up at you as you finally opened your eyes to look at him. You’ve never really seen Armin look at you like that, you’ve never seen him look at anyone like that. His eyes lidded damn nere closed, lust in his eyes, a smirk on his face and it seemed as if the blue of his eyes were more noticeable than usual. They were practically glowing as they traveled up and down your half-naked body.

“I don’t know…” You blabbered. You couldn’t even remember what you put the bra on for if it was just for him to look at or if it was for him to take it off too. You just wanted to look pretty for him and didn’t think that far ahead into what he would do “C’mon baby…you gotta know.” Armin whispered slapping a hand on your ass and making you jolt up earning a small whimper from him.

If you didn’t know before, you definitely don’t know now with how he was talking to you “W-Which ever you want.” You sputtered out as you slowed down your movements trying to compose yourself your eyes shutting close again.

Armin hummed in delight at your words “Really? I think I’m gonna keep it on you. Makes ‘em look so pretty.” He spoke lowly running one of his fingers over the pattern of the lace, his eyes locked on your boobs less ashamed now. You nodded and hummed as you sat still on him getting more sensitive by the moment just from him being inside of you.

The male’s blue eyes drifted down to where you two were connected and looked back up at you “Baby, you’re gorgeous and I love you but I’m gonna need you to move a little faster f’me.” Armin cooed smiling up at you. It’s not like you were going fast exactly before you stopped but something was better than nothing even if he wanted much more.

You smiled brightly and opened your eyes peering down at him “I love you too Armin.” The blonde let out a laugh and his smile widened. It was no surprise that you only paid attention to that part of his sentence, it looked like there was nothing in that head of yours anymore “You need me to take control? You can just lay there and look pretty, I don’t mind.” He said sweetly tilting his head slightly making his blonde hair sway and it made him look even more pretty.

No matter how much he cut his hair, his golden locks were always so silky especially when they moved in the slightest tilt of his head or the small blow of the wind “No, I-I got it.” You said placing your hands on his chest before beginning to move once more but this time you weren’t grinding with the addition of small bouncing, you were going up and down making slapping sounds echo off the off-white walls with wet sounds following it.

Groans escaped Armin’s throat with some slips of whimpers and whines as he threw his head back, hands gripping your ass as if his life depended on it while your tits bounced in the lacy fabric in his face. Armin’s blue eyes stayed focused on you and didn’t close once, he wanted to keep looking at you and how pretty you looked with your mouth wide open letting out pornographic sounds.

Armin had never admitted it to anyone in the world but he always thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He believed it when he was young and still believed it.

Even though he hadn’t told anyone about it, a few people caught on when he was younger maybe in his elementary or middle school years? He didn’t quite remember but what he did remember was when Eren came to him during their math class and told him about how obvious his feelings for you were. Armin was so embarrassed when that happened and a little devastated by what Eren said but he did it anyway because that was his best friend and he’d do anything for him.

But looking back at that, he was sure he only agreed to that because Eren was his only friend and he was very much a pushover.

“Armin, I know you like my sister.” Eren had told him when sitting down on the empty desk beside the blonde’s with a straight face. Armin’s face went pale and his eyes widened in shock at that moment not knowing what to say as he was just doing long division a second ago.

He dropped his #2 pencil on the worksheet and pushed his glasses up “Don’t lie. I always see you looking at her.” Eren said narrowing his eyes at his friend practically sensing that guilty excuses of denial were soon going to start pouring out of his friend’s mouth “Sorry eren…She’s just…very pretty.” The long-haired boy muttered as he began fumbling with his fingers while looking at his lap refusing to meet his friend’s eyes.

Eren sighed as he dropped his head understanding how he was probably making his friend very nervous “I know. I can’t keep those stupid soccer boys away from her.” He grumbled remembering all the times he’s literally had to jump in front of you with his arms in the air yelling for them to back away from his little sister. He didn’t think you were old enough to be dating even though he’s had his fair share of five-day relationships. Eren would use that excuse for you until you were in the eighth grade and would then lay out a list of guys you shouldn’t date because ‘they’re the worst guys ever’ which consisted of soccer guys, basketball guys, and Jean. Jean was the only specific name on there.

Armin glanced up at his friend still nervous as he shuffled in his seat “Look, I don’t care if you like her or anything but don’t date her! I’d love to have you as a brother but she’s super annoying, you deserve better than her.” Eren said with a small pout on his lips making Armin laugh but the blue-eyed boy nodded while agreeing with the conditions “Okay eren. I won’t date her.”

It was stupid how he told Eren that but continued to like you after all this time. Armin was sure that the ‘deserved better than her’ reason had worn off now and was replaced by something like ‘It’s just so gross’ and Armin understood where Eren was coming from now. He and Eren had kissed two times at two separate parties both times with them being basically blackout drunk and of course, you didn’t know, no one knew and that’s the way both of them wanted it to stay, and Eren seeing him start dating his sister after all of that would be very weird for Eren and Armin. Armin still wanted to date you regardless though but was still considering how Eren would feel about it.

But who said he couldn’t fuck you? Eren didn’t have to know about that and if he did find out, it’d just be something to ease him into accepting Armin dating you.

Plus, it’s not like Armin cared very much about what Eren felt now that he was six inches deep inside of the warmth of your soaking cunt.

“Ughn! Shit, you feel so good.” Armin whined loudly as he squeezed his eyes closed feeling a tightness in his stomach but he quickly snapped them back open reminding himself of the beauty in front of him who was quite literally doing all the work to make him and herself feel good. Shit, by the way, you were fucking yourself out, he wouldn’t have cared if you wanted to peg the shit outta him.

The pleasure both of you felt was soon interrupted by a loud ringing of someone’s phone. You opened your eyes and turned your head around slowing the bouncing and resorting to grinding which made Armin hate phones “Who is it?” He asked though it came out as a whine with his heavy breathing. You saw his phone glowing and ringing on the desk which his PC sat on and you squinted trying to see the contact name through the growing tears of pleasure and when you saw it your eyes widened and you let out a whine of frustration.

It was Eren. Stupid Eren being a cockblock once again.

Yeah, you did this whole thing to get back at Eren and take advantage of your anger against your brother to finally do what you’ve wanted to for a while but if he called, you were going to stop. Having your brother listen to you fucking his best friend was disgusting. His finding out about it was a whole other thing and now in the state of mind you were from this dick that made you dumb, you didn’t really care too much about if he’d find out at all.

Fuck, this wasn’t even about getting back at Eren anymore. This was about feeling your desire and your need for the blonde.

“S’ eren…” You muttered turning back to Armin with a saddened look on your face and his eyes widened too seemingly snapping out of whatever trance you had put him in. He took his hand off the flesh of your ass and went to reach for his phone with his hand trembling from the pleasure he was still receiving from your small movements but you placed one of your hands on the desk in front of the phone before he could grab it.

You shook your head as you sped up the pace lifting yourself up and down once more “Don’t get it.” You pleaded looking down at Armin hoping to persuade him to just ignore the call and he didn’t say anything and just stared back at you. He broke eye contact and looked behind you seeing the phone and sighed. He knew Eren was just going to keep calling until he eventually got the idea that he was not going to answer the phone and he’d definitely get scolded for not picking up.

Fuck it. It’s whatever.

“Fine.” The Arlert male said looking back up at you and you smiled slightly before picking up the pace making Armin’s calm manner quickly disappear and back into his little whines and deep groans “Fuck, you killing me.” Armin said with a groan his hand gripping the edge of the desk and his other digging his short nails into your ass once again remaking the marks that had faded.

You leaned down and began placing sloppy kisses onto the fair-colored skin of his neck and he gave you full access with his head being thrown back. Your body pressed further against his with your boobs pressing against his hard chest making you moan onto his neck from the feeling of your sensitive nipples pressing against him.

You could feel yourself inching closer and closer to a release with every second and every bounce. You were falling more in love with Armin as his pretty groans and whimpers filled the silence along with yours, he was so sweet, so gentle yet still so rough but it was the perfect balance.

That balance was pleasurable enough but the sound of your moans mixing with his was like the most perfect lemonade to ever exist. Sweet and Sour, the sour was his occasional deep groans after the sweetness of his whimpers had run out.

Your back arched as you let out a loud whine letting go and cumming all over his cock biting down on his neck as your toes curled.

However, Armin hadn’t cum and he was not done. Not one bit. His other hand came back to your ass and he continued to bounce you up and down even after you had stopped to catch your breath “Sorry…just need this s’bad!” Armin apologized with his voice wavering. You weren’t really sure what he was apologizing for exactly, maybe the increase in roughness? Maybe the sudden force? It didn’t matter because you didn’t care. He was just helping you ride out your orgasm. Well, the rest of it.

Soon you felt his warm seed sputtering inside of you and filling you all up, it seemed endless until it stopped “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” Armin asked through his deep breaths, his chest rising and falling under your sweaty palm as you retracted your face from the crook of his neck to look at him breathing just as heavy as he was.

You shook your head lightly “No, m’ okay…” You whispered as you tried to catch your breath and Armin nodded at your answer.

His hands went to your hips much gentler than they were before almost as if you were fine china and it was the first time he was using you and in a way, it was. He lifted you from his limp cock with ease and allowed you to stand to your feet but your legs and feet had fallen asleep by now, it’d be pretty hard to walk home now “What are you doing?” Armin asked as he saw you bending over to grab the clothes you had discarded while he pulled up his Nike Pros but kicked the sweatpants off.

You looked at him not really knowing what to say and just shrugged your shoulders “Can’t leave yet, I still gotta clean you up.” Armin said standing to his feet and swooping you into his arms not asking you or giving you any heads-up so you sat there being carried confused as to what he was doing.

“I just do that myself when I get home.” You said as the blonde carried you to the bathroom kicking open the cracked door before waddling over to the tub “Why? It’s the least I can do, you were practically doing all the work.” Armin said laughing awkwardly as he set you inside the porcelain tub being careful before reaching over and letting you take the remainder of your clothing off before turning on the faucet letting the warm water flow into the tub and onto your feet.

It wasn’t necessarily a secret that you had your more than fair share of horrible boyfriends but not everyone in the world knew. Armin and a few of you two’s other friends knew because either you told them or Eren blabbed his mouth to them about every time you’d complain to him about some stupid guy and that’s the reason why Armin knew about almost everything. 

Since the ninth grade, he’d heard from Eren about all the horrible guys you’ve dated who played you, lied, cheated, yelled, even left you stranded at a party and all Armin wished was that you found a guy that actually found the sweetness and greatness in you. He wished more than anything that it would be him.

He dreamed about all the things he’d do for you, to you, and with you, that’d put a smile on your face. All the things you’d deserve that he’d give you even if it nearly killed him.

He wanted that more than ever right now as he looked at you relaxing in the hot water that was filling up the tub very fast. He reached his hand into the tub and grabbed yours holding it comfortingly and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles which made your eyes open and dart to him “I love you (y/n).” Armin spoke softly leaning his cheek against the side of his tub never looking away from you with his light-colored eyelashes fluttering with minor blinks and it seemed as if he was trying to stop blinking so he wouldn’t waste a single second looking away from you.

“I love you too Armin.” You said with a kind smile on your face as you squeezed his hand with his cheeks turning red from your words. Your smile slowly turned from kind to mischievous as your pure thoughts changed to the complete opposite realizing you were naked.

You lifted your foot out of the tub and rested it on the edge which drew the blonde’s attention “Y’know armin…I didn’t learn much from your study session.” You whispered looking back up at Armin who very quickly caught onto what you were trying to say and got incredibly embarrassed “Come on, you’re the one that called it that…” He muttered lifting his head from the side of the tub as he looked away from you his cheeks burning a bright red.

That was true, you were the one who called it that but you both didn’t even attempt to get down to the science. Got down and dirty before Armin could even get to the beginning of the science work “Yeah but I hope we get another one, I actually wanna learn somethin’.” You said shrugging your shoulders as you placed your other leg on the other side of the tub spreading them.

Armin’s eyes were locked on your wet legs as water dripped in droplets from your calves, he wondered if his cum was still there or if it had washed out into the water “What next? Seems like you got biology down pretty good.” He said meeting your eyes again with a smile on his face that matched yours.

“Maybe neuroscience. I can teach you stuff too like what makes girls happy.” Armin almost laughed at how you were referring to serotonin but clearly forgot what it was called, he would’ve if he didn’t watch how the drops of water rolled down your tits to your areolas and down to your tummy.

Armin brought his hand to your leg and rubbed it up and down making you bite down into your lip “I think I know what makes girls happy.” He said his hand growing closer to your crotch moving down to your inner thigh and the ache in your cunt returned practically pulsing as you watched the way he looked at you. Seemed he realized the way you were squeezing around nothing.

You tilted your head as you looked at him sinking deeper into the warm water “Really? What makes me happy then?” You questioned with a whine slipping out with each inch Armin’s hand came closer and his smirk widened as the glowing in his eyes returned as if he was some sort of predator getting ready to pounce and eat you alive.

“Me.”

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

#torasplanet.ᐟ #eren yeager #marls-fics.ᐟ #armin arlert #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert smut #aot x reader #aot smut #aot college au #armin arlert fluff #so sappyyy #can u tell when i got sad halfway through writing this #◛⑅·˚armin;p

[mitsuyeaah]

UNDIVIDED ATTENTION

SANZU HARUCHIYO x f! reader

“said he got a lot of cash, darling, he can’t buy my love. it’s you i’m dreaming of.”

cw: chauffeur! sanzu, ex-delinquent! sanzu, wealthy! reader, m! OC (briefly), modern au, age gap (haru is 27 & reader is 23), slight mutual pining, angst, fluff, smut mdni (intoxicated consensual sex), nsfw, virginity loss, forbidden love, swearing, mention of scars, mention of drugs, use of weed, pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl), lazily proofread (sorry in advance).

word count: 13.8k i'm so sorry

a/n: here's a little treat before my break ends! hope you guys enjoy! also, i don’t know when i’ll write something long again but we shall see :") © divider: animatedglittergraphics-n-more

The smell of expensive leather mixed with the cologne your chauffeur wore filled your lungs as you sank back into the plush leather of the backseat of your vehicle. The lights outside dimly lit the quiet car, you stared out the window, observing the tall buildings that almost touched the clouds and billboards that surrounded the bustling city.

People were out and about, some dressed up–for what you presumed to be for the club–getting ready to start the night, some were hastily walking out of their work buildings, their IDs swaying around their neck with every step they took. You would never know what it felt like to spend your Friday night dressing up for the club, instead, you related more to the latter group of people. 

It was another stressful day at work, meetings followed after one another. It also didn’t help that more projects were handed over to you because you were ‘going to be the next successor of this company’ as per your father’s words. You let out a sigh and rested your head on the head rest, closing your eyes and letting the music and soft hum of the car engulf you.

“Sanzu?” you broke the comfortable silence, your chauffeur briefly looked at you from the rear mirror before focusing back on the road ahead of him, your eyes were still closed, “Yes, Miss?” he quietly replied.

“I don’t want to go home yet…” you muttered, placing an arm over your eyes, as if it would somehow erase all your problems. He nodded, even though you couldn’t see him and replied, “Understood.” Sanzu knew what you meant by that, he’s only been your chauffeur for 3 months, but he’s memorized every single one of your demands, no matter how vague they are.

In this case, you wanted to drop by a specific park where you spent most of your childhood playing. He knew that you went there every single time you were stressed or upset about something, Sanzu knew because he’s been driving you to this park countless times in a span of 3 months, and those times, you were always either stressed or upset.

He muttered a silent ‘we’re here’ as he turned off the engine, Sanzu held onto the wheel with his left hand and slightly turned his body to face you. You removed your arm from your eyes and let out a soft sigh as you stepped out of the vehicle, you were met with the crisp winter evening air, slightly shivering as it made contact with your warm skin.

You made your way over to the wooden bench you always sat on, it overlooked the grassy fields and the now leafless trees surrounding the place. Sanzu followed you wordlessly, at this point, he already knew what to do and it was basically routine for him.

You didn’t mind having your chauffeur by your side as you mulled over your thoughts, in fact, it was your initial idea to have him sit with you.

You didn’t expect anything from him but his mere presence, and he also didn’t mind sitting there, there was no awkward tension at all. After all, you’ve done this so many times in the past. Sanzu sat next to you, leaving an appropriate space in between and neatly folding his arms on his lap.

You turned your head to the older man next to you and furrowed your brows, “I told you, you don’t have to wear that when you’re with me… which is basically almost twenty-four seven, so you don’t have to wear it at all.”

He was wearing that stupid black mask again, which covered any facial features lower than his turquoise eyes.

You studied him, your eyes tracing his side profile. Sanzu wore his long pink hair in a ponytail, shorter loose strands framing the left side of his face, he also sported one black hoop earring in each ear but you knew he had more piercings than that, something you’ve grown fond of.

The way the warm streetlight illuminated his profile warmed something in your chest, and the way his turquoise eyes turned a shade warmer..

“Your father saw me without it… you can guess what happened next.” Sanzu shrugged, looking over at you, his facial muscles flexing under his mask—you presumed he was smiling under it but not a genuine one, it didn’t reach his eyes.

The reason for the black mask that sat on Sanzu’s face was unnecessary. It was enforced by your father that he had to wear it at all times as Sanzu possessed scars on either corner of his lips, almost in the shape of a diamond.

Your father was strict when it came to the company’s reputation, and apparently strict enough to ask your personal driver to cover his scarred face, though you thought it was purely not needed as Sanzu was just a chauffeur.

You also didn’t like the way your father asked Sanzu to minimize his earrings down to one jewelry per ear, again, completely unnecessary.

If you were being honest, your father was never fond of Sanzu and did not even have intentions of hiring him as your personal driver.

Your father only hired Sanzu because you insisted you liked him the most out of all potential chauffeur candidates, despite the man not having past experience for the job at hand but you didn’t care, the job required was to just drive anyway.

Sanzu explained during his interview for this job that he’s an ex-delinquent–another reason why your father did not like Sanzu–but has changed his ways and is now trying to live a better life, a normal one at that.

His reasoning moved you in some way, you felt the genuinity in his words which indicated that he was serious about this new path he’s taking, Sanzu was also a bit hesitant to discuss this during the interview as he felt like it was too late for him to do so since he was already twenty-seven years old–four years older than you–but you reassured him during the interview that it was never too late to change to a better path.

Sanzu has been nothing but a polite individual, he was not a man of too many words and often opted to just listen, even if it was just the both of you. Sometimes you wonder what runs through his mind.

“Well, my father is not here, so you can take it off. And I’ll tell him to lay off about that damn mask, I don’t like it on you.” you scoffed, already not liking the idea of your father scolding Sanzu for not wearing his mask.

The older man nodded and hesitantly brought his hands up to either side of his face to unhook the mask from his pierced ears. A small shiver ran down Sanzu’s back as the cold air kissed the hot skin that had been confined under the suffocating mask.

All while he was doing this, a small smile dawned upon your face, he was breathtaking.

“You know, I don’t really mind wearing a mask… it makes people stare less at my face.” Sanzu’s gaze dropped down to his hands as he neatly folded the mask and pocketed it.

He wasn’t going to lie, he liked the feeling of breathing air without a piece of cloth confining his nose and mouth but he just felt more vulnerable without it, especially when strangers didn’t bother to hide their disgust when staring.

Conversely, the mask lessened the attention on him, and he felt less vulnerable with the way it covered his emotions.

Upon hearing this, you frowned. You didn’t like the way Sanzu got so comfortable with hiding himself from the world because of the nasty stares he got from just being himself.

There was literally nothing to cover, Sanzu was just as beautiful with or without his scars, and they definitely don’t define him. Something people needed to keep in mind. You refrained from complimenting him out loud because it would be a bit awkward as you two weren’t that close, yet.

“But I don’t mind and I think that’s the only opinion that matters because I hired you, and you work for me. So, fuck everyone else, they’re just projecting their insecurities.”

You never really knew how Sanzu got his scars and you didn’t want to ask since he was clearly insecure about them but you presumed he got it from his delinquent days. Just a mere guess though.

Sanzu chuckled at your reply, he thought you were cute but still very naïve. He gave you a smile, a genuine one, “Technically, your father hired me.” you playfully shook your head at him, muttering ‘that’s basically the same thing’ under your breath.

The two of you spent an hour or so like this, a friendly banter occurring back and forth at times. It definitely de-stressed you a lot, which you were thankful for Sanzu for the most part, as he was the only one listening to your endless rants about your personal life and job.

“You wanna know why I wanted to come here tonight?” you dryly chuckled, your gaze shifting down to your hands as you fiddled with your fingers and picked at your skin. Sanzu noticed that it was a habit of yours to do that every time you had something in your mind that bothered you. He also stared at your hands, “Why?”

It took you about a full minute to answer before letting out a heavy sigh and finally looking back at him, fingers still picking at your skin, “It’s my birthday today.” you forced a smile.

Sanzu barely showed any emotions but he was visibly shocked at this, his brows shooting upwards, eyes widening and his scarred mouth slightly parting.

Genuine shock soon turned into confusion, brows furrowing as he asked you, “Why aren’t you spending time with your family? I’m sure they’d organized something for you.”

Sanzu genuinely believed this. Your family was wealthy so it confused him as to why your parents wouldn’t plan something extravagant on your 23rd birthday, like what other rich people did.

You were a child of a very wealthy man who owned one of the biggest marketing firms in the country, so it confused him a bit.

You shook your head and let out another sigh as you threw your head back and looked up at the vast sky above, “Nah… I grew up spending my birthdays alone. I would always come home to the same thing every year, a big bouquet of flowers, stacks of presents and a tiered cake. It was nice at first but I got tired of it… I never once spent my birthday with them after the age of 5.” you replied, still looking up at the stars.

Your parents were the type of people to think they could keep you happy by giving you whatever you wanted, and it did, for only a short period of time. But what you really wanted was some quality time and their undivided attention, they were always so caught up on work that they forgot about their only child.

Guess they did not, in fact, give you whatever you wanted.

Sanzu truly felt sorry for you, he’s definitely got a gist of how your family functions with only 3 months of working for you, both your parents were work-driven and managed to prioritize the company before their child’s own needs.

He felt kind of bad for assuming you were just another spoiled wealthy kid when he first started his job. Sanzu had picked you up from your family-owned company one night, a big bouquet of red roses sitting in the back seat, its scent filling the car.

Your father had apparently gotten you the roses as a congratulatory gift for being promoted, at least that’s what he told Sanzu.

He remembered how you stepped into the car and didn’t even bat an eye at the expensive gift, Sanzu looked at you through the rear-view mirror as you read the handwritten letter attached on the bouquet–presuming it was written by your father–you simply just sighed and tossed it back to the general direction of the roses.

He was a bit taken back by your behaviour but remained silent as he backed out of the parking space and into the busy streets.

Now, he understood why you acted that way that night. You were just so used to your parents giving you all these gifts that it lost all its monetary value, no matter how expensive they were.

Sanzu knew that what you truly sought out was some quality time from your parents, you didn’t need expensive gifts, you needed their love and attention just like any other kid growing up.

Even though the two of you lived very different lives, he was somewhat relating to your situation. Growing up, he never had proper parental figures, god, he didn’t even know them that much as his parents were barely home and probably fucked around with drugs, which left him and his siblings to fend for themselves.

Unlike you, he had two siblings, an older brother and a younger sister. His older brother was no different, he focused more on their younger sister which isolated Sanzu a lot but he did have his younger sister, although their relationship wasn’t the very best.

“I’m sorry. Happy Birthday.” was all Sanzu could reply, his gaze softened as he stared at your side profile, you were still admiring the stars.

You chuckled and finally looked at him and held his aquamarine gaze, “You don’t have to be, it’s not your fault… and thank you.” Sanzu’s chest warmed as he saw a glint of happiness in your eyes, he swore you were about to cry but blinked away the tears threatening to form.

You didn’t know why but his greeting genuinely made you happy, “You must think I’m so lame, I only have my chauffeur to rant to.” you scoffed and looked away once again, this time scanning the tree lines ahead of you.

He didn’t think you were lame, you were quite the opposite. Sanzu understood the demands your parents asked from you–with the amount of times you’ve ranted to him–and figured you didn’t live a very memorable childhood despite being surrounded by endless wealth.

You were only in your early twenties but he felt you were much more mature despite your young age, it was probably due to the fact that you had expectations to uphold and roles to fill.

“No. I think you’re okay.” this was the first time Sanzu has spoken more than ever for the past three months you’ve had him working for you, he was actually actively engaging in the conversation and not just the occasional nods and hums he gave when you ranted before, you appreciated this from him, more than he knew.

Your night was cut short when you remembered you had something early the next day, even though it was the weekend. Sanzu drove you back home and didn’t forget to greet you ‘happy birthday’ one last time before he hopped onto his motorcycle–that was parked inside the garage–and rode home.

You smiled to yourself like an idiot as you made your way inside your family estate, he made you happy, something not a lot of people can do.

As expected, you were met with your usual birthday presents, but this time you weren’t surrounded by maids and butlers. You stood in front of the dining hall, the long mahogany table stretching from one end to another filled with meals you get more than usual on your birthday.

The chairs were also occupied by your parents and three other guests you didn’t know, this surprised you as you’ve spent countless birthdays sitting on one end of the table, alone and no one to talk to but the maids and butlers that stood by if you needed anything. At least they were always nice enough to sing you a ‘happy birthday’ to lighten the damp mood.

You furrowed your brows at the three unknown guests, the last thing you expected was your parents actually showing up for your birthday and bringing in unknown guests to dine with.

Sure, the estate was often filled with unknown guests which you assumed were close business partners of your father and the company but you never had to dine with them.

The unknown older man sat on the other end of the table, opposite your father, whereas the older woman–probably his wife–sat across from your mother, both were around the age of your parents, and the last person was a young man probably around your age as well but you didn’t recognize him.

“Happy Birthday! We’ve been waiting for you, come and have a seat!” your father greeted you from one end of the table, a saccharine smile forming upon his lips.

You hesitantly made your way over to the only empty seat–which was across from the young man you have yet to be introduced to–and muttered a small ‘thank you’.

The young man opposite you gave you a shy smile before taking a sip of his red wine. “I want you to meet one of our most trusted business partners, the FJ group, and this is their son Heizo Fujio.” your father indicated the young man opposite you, you politely greeted them.

You’ve heard of the FJ group before, they were one of the top selling retail companies in the country with an average revenue sitting in the billions area and their brands always successfully making profit.

You could finally put a face to the owner of the FJ group but it wasn’t like you were desperate to do so. The young man–Heizo–gave you another smile upon his introduction, politely jutting his arm across the table and in front of you, you didn’t hesitate to shake his hand and return his smile but you were still confused as to why they were here.

As if on cue, your father spoke up once again with delight in his eyes, something inside you didn’t like that look in his eyes, not anticipating what was coming next.

“Mr. Fujio and I have been discussing you and Heizo… and we were thinking since both of you are our next successors, it would be in our best interest for you two to personally know each other, with marriage in mind. We have been business partners for so long and we feel like we’re ready to take it a step further.”

You didn’t know what to say.

You sat there frozen in your seat, the sound of your heart drumming rapidly against your chest engulfing you as your mind reeled. First of all, what the fuck? And second of all, I didn’t consent to this. That’s what you wanted to say but your parents raised you better than to disrespect the food on the table.

Your breathing became erratic as you could feel your limbs tingling, you wanted to do something but didn’t know what. You hated this feeling because it only came around when you knew you couldn’t do anything about the situation at hand. It was beyond your control.

Overreacting? Probably.

And yes, you haven’t met Heizo nor explored his personality and it also doesn’t mean that he might not turn out so bad but the idea of marriage was just… too soon.

You only just turned twenty-three today, you were still young and had a bright future ahead of you, and marriage was just something you haven’t thought of, especially since you’re always busy with the firm and practically have no time to get to know anyone.

Your eyes darted around the table, all of them seemed to be pleased about this news, especially Heizo. You felt like an outcast, it felt like someone had told an inside joke that they all knew except for you. Were you the only one thinking things are being rushed? Even your mother was nodding along.

Nothing came out as you opened your mouth, you thought of ways to counter this idea or at least let them re-think about the marriage. But there was nothing. Your mind went blank and you felt helpless. You didn’t know why but amidst the blankness of your mind, you swore you saw Sanzu.

—

Sanzu briefly glanced at you through the rear view mirror while he waited for the vehicle engine to warm up, you sat at the back seat and your beige trenchcoat wrapping around your body as you crossed your arms and looked outside the window.

He noticed your hair was styled in a ponytail, and you wore your signature diamond drop earrings that probably cost more than his life; from what he’s gathered, you only wore the pair during formal occasions.

“Heading to the firm today, right?” he asked.

You glanced over at your chauffeur, earrings swaying at every movement, he sported his usual white button up and black slacks but this time accompanied with a black bomber jacket due to the colder season.

A smile appeared upon your lips, seeing that he didn’t wear his mask, Sanzu noticed your smile. “Oh, I forgot to text you that my morning meeting for today has been rescheduled. I have a date with Heizo… so we’ll head over to FJ since they suggested we take one car.” He noticed the corners of your lips dropping as you replied.

Oh, so that’s what the earrings were for. You had a date. Sanzu thought.

This was the first time Sanzu had to drive you on a date, majority of the time he just drove you to and from work, with some other trips to leisure places like high-end stores where you came back with a shit ton of bags that housed varieties of luxury items.

You definitely had a keen eye for pretty things.

There was even one time where you asked him to accompany you to browse the autumn collection of a high-end clothing brand and he swore he’s never kept his hands to himself as much as he did inside the store, with the fear of accidentally damaging items worth more than his life.

Sanzu felt something odd in his chest at the thought of you going on a date with another man but he quickly brushed it off and nodded before he started typing the address of the FJ Group on the built-in screen of your vehicle.

The car ride was mainly silent but not uncomfortable. From time to time, he glanced over at you through the rear view mirror, your brows knitted together and occasionally letting out deep sighs that felt like there was something heavy behind it all, something that clouded your mind.

There was something bothering you but Sanzu didn’t want to pry.

He would never admit this to anyone else but it pained him whenever something bothered you, he knew the strict life you lived under the control of your parents and he knew the expectations you desperately tried to reach, and sometimes he would just wish that you had one genuine day where you were free from it all; the expectations, the stress, and the calculated future you had ahead of you.

But little did he know you were free from all that but only when you were with him.

Sanzu drummed his fingers on the leather steering wheel, nodding his head to the music while you both waited for Heizo; the car was parked–but still running–in the basement parking lot of the FJ Group firm.

He was eager to finally put a face to the name since it's been clouding his mind ever since you told him about it. Was he handsome? Well dressed? Was he good for you? These questions ran through Sanzu’s mind and he had to mentally stop himself from thinking about them as it didn’t even concern him. After all, he’s just a mere chauffeur, your chauffeur.

A fairly tall man exited the building which caught Sanzu’s turquoise gaze, he stopped drumming his fingers and focused on the man making his way towards your black Porsche.

Heizo was wearing a white button up paired with a navy blue vest and slacks, topping the outfit off with a black trench coat. Sanzu thought he looked absolutely charismatic despite being effortless, he felt a slight pang of jealousy. He didn’t know why.

Heizo enthusiastically greeted you as he entered the vehicle, his expensive musky cologne immediately filling up the car which made Sanzu almost gag at the smell, it overpowered your sweet scented perfume, the perfume you always wore and he’s grown to love.

The pink haired man silently watched as Heizo scooted all the way to the middle seat of the vehicle, leaving almost no room between the two of you, he also noticed the way you uncomfortably leaned closer towards the car door.

It was almost painful for Sanzu to hide his expression at Heizo’s brazenness, he could tell you two weren’t close with the way you shifted against the leather seat.

“We’re headed to The Black Pearl.” Heizo turned his attention to Sanzu.

Sanzu briefly looked back at the man next to you and nodded, but he didn’t miss the way Heizo’s gaze lingered at his scarred lips, a little too long for his liking. Sanzu also didn’t miss the way his face contorted ever so slightly with pure disgust before turning his attention back to you.

Sanzu cleared his throat and looked ahead of him, uncomfortably shifting in his seat before pulling out of the parking space.

—

It was already late in the afternoon and had just dropped off Heizo at their place. You watched as the man waved from the marble steps and hastily made his way inside their mansion.

Before Sanzu could drive off, you told him to wait and quickly got out of the back passenger seat, making your way over to the front passenger seat and sitting next to Sanzu.

He was taken aback by your bold move, his keen turquoise eyes watching you fasten your seatbelt.

“...You okay?” he asked as you made yourself comfortable against the expensive leather material of the seat. You met his aquamarine gaze and gave him a smile that shouldn’t have made him suck in a breath and his heart skip a beat, “I’m fine, just wanted to sit here.” you shrugged and looked out the window.

Sanzu stared at you for a couple more seconds, studying every single one of your features, you looked content. Definitely a contrast from your mood just a few minutes earlier when Heizo was still in the car.

Sanzu traced the outline of your pretty face and the way the corner of your lips were slightly upturned, like you were trying to hide a smile but failed to do so.

He inhaled a shallow breath as felt something inside him, something in his chest; he doesn’t know when he’s been feeling this sensation but it’s different, something he’s never felt before. It felt warm and comfortable, and he wanted to grasp every single bit of this feeling but something deep within tells him that it might be dangerous.

It wouldn’t hurt to test the waters, right? Test whatever he was feeling.

He gripped the steering in front of him and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the warmth was now spreading up his neck and to his cheeks and ears. Sanzu put the car on ‘drive’ and started driving before his mind could think of any other thoughts that would confuse him.

The date went okay.

That was the only word you could think of, nothing more, nothing less. You didn’t really expect much from Heizo but you also didn’t expect less from him.

You two just didn’t… click, all he talked about was how many successful projects he had launched, how he was the sole reason for having a higher percentage of sales than last year, and how— basically all the business talk.

Although, the only thing that stuck to you was that Heizo was the same age as you, not that it mattered.

You didn’t care about the business talk he brought upon the table, nor did you care about the fact that he–on your very first date–bought you expensive jewellery and from his words, which was ‘one of a kind’ as he had gotten it specifically catered to you. Whatever the fuck that meant.

You remember blankly staring at the necklace that rested inside a black velvet box, every single diamond twinkling under the restaurant lights.

You remember the proud look on Heizo’s face, like he had done something out of this world, like he thought he had already won your heart by merely buying you something expensive. Maybe it’s the thought that counts.

Just like my parents, you thought.

There was no genuine connection between you and him because you two clearly had different ideas in mind when thinking about what to talk about on a first date.

If you actually saw potential in Heizo and tried, you would have wanted to get to know him. You didn’t wanna know about what fantastic deals he’s closed, how much he contributed to the company sales, nor how much he spent on that necklace he got you.

You would’ve wanted to know about his interests and what he does in his free time to entertain himself.

In this world, you feel that people forget so much about the little things, the little things that matter. Nowadays everyone focuses solely on the monetary value and often forget that one of the foundations of love is attention, being attentive towards their partner and fulfilling their physical and mental needs with what they actually need.

People often mistaken that going for a materialistic approach will fulfil one’s needs but it doesn’t.

Sanzu had the urge to ask how your date went, he could feel the question building in his throat but had to quickly swallow it down because it did not concern him in any way. But it’s as if you read his mind, you broke the silence in the vehicle, “It was awful.” you scoffed.

“All he talked about were business-related things and was just basically flaunting his money. The audacity of him to think he’d be able to win me over by using his wealth… I mean like, not that he has a chance but you get what I mean, right?” You turned your head to the pink haired man, his aquamarine eyes focused on the road but you knew he was listening intently with the way he nodded his head and gave you a hum.

“Goodness, what a fool he is if he thinks he can buy my love.” 

“The last time I went on a date was when I was twenty and I kid you not, these men have not changed. Thinking that all the ladies would be impressed about being rich.” you continued your rant, Sanzu has never seen you this worked up over something, it amused him a bit and thought you were cute.

“Hm. Maybe because I’ve been looking in the wrong direction for a real man." he could feel your burning gaze on the side of his face and it took him all his willpower not to look back at you because he had to focus on the road.

But fuck, his heart was beating so fast. Last time his heart beat this fast was when he took unknown pills to try and forget everything.

All you wanted was someone different, like a breath of fresh air, someone genuinely interested in you and your personality. Yes, Heizo was wealthy and you both were in the same tax bracket but what is he underneath all that wealth? What kind of person would he be?

Later that night, after his job for the day was over, Sanzu went for a night drive with his motorcycle. He wanted to clear his head because all he could think of was you.

The way your lip gloss complemented your lips, the way your hair perfectly framed your face, the way your eyes twinkled every time— Fuck, this is unprofessional, he cursed himself.

How could he be thinking about you like that? You were so sweet and nice, and the sole reason why he got this job, so he couldn’t compromise his position by thinking this way.

But you were just so pure and so innocent that he wanted to ruin you, to ravage every single ounce of your innocence— “Fuck.” he whispered to himself as he sat on his still motorcycle. He wanted to smoke so bad but he knew better than getting high and riding back home.

As soon as you got home, you managed to convince your parents that you didn’t think things with Heizo were going to escalate further than being just business partners and to your surprise, they took it quite well, especially your father.

He even mentioned that maybe you two weren’t actually compatible from the beginning. This relieved you as you thought they would finally let the marriage idea go.

You thought wrong.

For the past few days, you finally knew why your parents were able to let that whole situation with Heizo go down the drain and it was because they found you new suitors.

Yes, plural. Apparently they had a whole list of your potential suitors and Heizo was just one of the many, this made you question your parents why they were so desperate to get you a husband. After all, you were only at the ripe age of twenty-three.

Just as you expected, it was for the future of the company. Like it always had been when it came to your life. Pursue a business degree, it’s for the sake of your future and the company, they told you and so you did. Focus on your studies and quit messing around, you’re the future of the company, they told you and so you did.

They reminded you countless times how you were the future and successor of the company that it almost became embedded in your brain, you had expectations to reach and roles to keep up with, but at the same time, your parents forgot that who they were pressuring was just a mere child.

They didn’t know the heavy weight you had to carry upon your back, practically sacrificing your mental and physical well being for the sake of the company. It also didn’t help how apathetic they were; they missed your birthdays, your university graduation ceremony, and most importantly they never gave you the love and attention you wanted.

Gifts were given to you in exchange for your parents’ absence.

Your whole schedule was practically cleared just to go on dates for your potential suitors and Sanzu was surprised when you told him about your current situation, and why he had to drive you everywhere but to your work.

It was yet another one of those days where you had just finished a date with another suitor, you were growing so damn tired of it, of everything. Every single one of these men–more like boys–were just what you expected.

No one stood out and no one bothered to make a genuine connection with you. You were met with all sorts of strategies and presents that were used to woo you but none of them worked because at the end of the day, they were all just the same, they only had wealth to brag about.

In between the dates you went on, you got closer to Sanzu, close enough that you were both now on a first name basis and you were even sitting more frequently beside him while he drove.

You also noticed how much he has opened up to you, he barely wore his mask and wouldn’t hesitate to give you hearty laughs whenever you tried to lighten the mood.

It didn’t even feel like he was your chauffeur but instead a friend. A friend who you could lean on, a friend who didn’t base you solely on your status, a friend who saw you for who you really were.

A friend who gave his undivided attention.

Although, the funny thing was that during your dates, your mind started to wonder what traits you were looking for in a partner because you clearly already knew what you didn’t want in a partner. During these, you would often find yourself comparing every single one of your suitors to a particular someone.

Haruchiyo.

Every time someone new came, your mind went back to Haruchiyo and thought about how they were nowhere near his personality that you’ve grown so fond of.

You looked for Haruchiyo Sanzu in every guy you went on a date with.

And at that moment, that was when you finally noticed your feelings that had been lingering and laying dormant deep in your heart. The dates you went on awakened your feelings for him.

You were in love with Haruchiyo.

You sat there, frozen while blankly staring at the road ahead of you as you came to the realisation that you loved him. You didn’t even know you were gripping the fabric of your pants until Haruchiyo asked if you were okay and pointed it out as he briefly glanced over your way and back to the road, “Hm? I’m fine…” you murmured.

Haru was the best person you could imagine to fall in love with but the situation was complicated. It was a risk and you never took risks, everything in your life was calculated and planned out for you. Besides, you didn’t even know if he even felt the same way.

“Have you ever been in love, Haru?” you leaned your head onto the headrest and turned your head to him, lips jutting out in a slight pout.

God, he liked it so much when you used his nickname, it did unexplainable things to him. Haruchiyo waited for the car to come to a complete stop at the lights before turning to you and holding your curious gaze.

It took him a few seconds to answer, like he was wracking his brain around to find the most suitable reply, “Hm… I guess I could say yes.” you nodded before dropping your gaze and looking out the window, how lucky she must be, you thought.

“What made you ask?” he questioned, returning his focus back on the road as the light turned green.

You shook your head, still looking out the window, “...Nothing. It’s just that I think— no, I am in love with a certain someone but it’s complicated.” you let out a huff and avoided looking back at the man that made your heart ache and skip a beat.

His brows shot up at your sudden confession, Haruchiyo gripped the steering wheel a little harder as he felt jealousy engulfing his body, “Oh? One of your suitors? Isn’t that good?” it pained him trying to force himself to sound like he cared. But he didn’t, he didn’t give a single fuck about it.

“No and no. That’s the thing… he’s not a suitor that my parents have picked out.” you covered your face with your palms, groaning into them. This feeling drove you crazy, you wanted Haruchiyo so bad, you yearned for him but didn’t know how to approach the situation.

Haruchiyo’s heart skipped a beat at this; there it was again, the warm feeling that spread throughout his body but this time he knew what it was.  There was this ounce of hope that kept him going, that you would see him as a man and not just someone who worked for you.

“Ah… then who is it?”

Haruchiyo did his best to remove all traces of desperation laced in his tone. He took deep breaths while waiting for your answer. He wanted to look at you so badly but he needed to focus on the road, he wanted to see your expression right this very moment.

You remained silent at his question but your mind was screaming for you to tell him how you truly felt. Your limbs were tingling, your heart was racing and your mind was going crazy; the confession was stuck in your throat but you couldn’t physically bring yourself to do it because you were scared to take the risk.

But at the same time, this was a risk for yourself. Your very own decision and not made by someone else.

Your fists clenched on your lap as you prepared yourself, your leg bounced with anxiety as tension grew, slowly filling the vehicle as his question remained unanswered. You bit your lip, desperate to tell Haruchiyo how you really felt about him.

Fuck it. was your last thought before opening your mouth to confess.

“It’s you. I’m in love with you Haru.”

Haruchiyo Sanzu almost fucking choked on his saliva. His brows shot up and mouth slowly parted at your sudden confession, he didn’t know what to say, his throat was suddenly dry. Haruchiyo felt like he was intoxicated, his legs and arms felt lighter, everything just felt so different.

Fuck, was the music always this loud? He thought. His mind raced as he played your confession over and over again, and without fail, it made his body warmer.

He was fucking ecstatic. You love him back. He wanted to just lean over across the console and kiss you so badly but he couldn’t, you were so close yet so far away from him.

“Fuck, princess, you can’t just confess like that while I’m in the middle of driving.” he let out a sharp breath followed by a breathy chuckle.

Before you knew it, Haruchiyo was already pulling into the garage, he swiftly parked the vehicle and turned it off before turning to you. Silence engulfed you both as you held each other’s stares, you swore your ears started to ring with how intense his gaze was.

You blinked, “D-do you feel the same way?” you broke the silence, studying Haruchiyo’s face, he was truly beautiful, the way his long pretty lashes complimented his turquoise eyes. He briefly closed his eyes and opened them again, nodding his head, “Is that even a question?”

A smile made its way to your lips and your eyes twinkled as you looked up at him with hearts in your eyes. “I really want to kiss you right now… but I’ve never kissed anyone and I don’t really know how…” you trailed off, avoiding his turquoise eyes as your cheeks warmed at your silly confession.

You stared at his lips, it was so tempting. Haruchiyo noticed you staring at his lips and thickly swallowed, normally he would start feeling uncomfortable if it were any other person that stared at his lips but it was different with you.

With you, he didn’t have to reel back and hide his biggest insecurity. Your gaze felt warm, there were no signs of disgust and judgement, only love.

“I can help you out… if you want.” Haruchiyo replied, his voice dropping an octave lower.

“Please, Haru?”

Haruchiyo swore under his breath as you begged for him. He wasted no time leaning over the console and reaching for you, placing a firm hand on the side of your neck as he desperately pulled you closer to him and sealing the gap between your lips.

His kisses were slow and sensual, it was your first time after all so he wanted you to feel all of him. Your lips perfectly moulded against each other, he was so warm and soft that you almost didn’t mind doing this all day.

You desperately clawed at the fabric of his chest, wanting more of Haruchiyo’s kisses. The ringing in your ears got louder as you kissed him longer, your legs felt weak even though you were sitting down, and your head spun. It felt so so good. The way your body reacted to his kisses was something you’ve never felt before.

Something within Haruchiyo stirred when you let out a whine as he started rubbing the side of your neck using the thumb of the hand that was firmly placed there. He’s barely even touched you properly and you were already whining for him? How cute. He’s going to absolutely ruin you.

Haruchiyo was about to stick his tongue in your mouth until he heard the garage door open. You both lunged away from each other at the loud sound, desperate to catch your breaths.

You bit your lip at the state of the man in front of you, his cheeks were dusted pink, lips swollen and letting out soft pants as his chest desperately rose up and down. Beautiful, you thought.

“Oh fuck, it’s your father.” Haruchiyo’s lust-filled eyes widened, reaching for his pocket and quickly slipping his mask on, you both desperately tried to fix yourselves up before exiting the vehicle and pretending like you two weren’t just sucking the life out of each other a few seconds ago.

Your father greeted the both of you before hopping into his own car with his personal driver. You headed for the door that led inside the estate while Haruchiyo headed for his motorcycle, you both looked back at each other and gave shy smiles before parting ways.

Later that night, you had asked Haruchiyo to meet up and discuss this whole situation and he was grateful for this as he didn’t really know where he stood at that moment, plus, there were hundreds of questions running through his mind.

Yes he was ecstatic about the mutuality of both your feelings, but this was the real world, you were both adults that led very different lives and he knew this wasn’t going to be easy for the both of you… if you two agree to go down the path of establishing a relationship.

You snuck out from your room, heart drumming against your chest as it was your first time doing this. You’ve never snuck out and barely disobeyed your parents so this was clearly an uncommon ground for you and the thought of being caught sneaking out scared you, especially if you were caught by your father.

Haruchiyo waited in front of the garage, sitting under the starry night sky as he leaned on his motorcycle. A small smile crept up your lips as you spotted him and as if on cue, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

He didn’t sport his usual white button up and slacks, instead opting for dark denim pants, black turtleneck, and a leather jacket to top it off; he also wore his hair down which sat past his shoulders.

“You look nice.” you tilted your head up to him, eyes twinkling like the stars in the dark sky.

The corner of his lips twitched up, he muttered a shy ‘thanks’ before handing you a helmet. You placed the black helmet over your head as Haruchiyo hopped on his motorcycle and turned it on, you followed suit, struggling to get on due to being shorter but nonetheless managed to, with the help of the older man.

“Hold on tight. Don’t let go.” Haruchiyo reached behind him and took both of your arms, encircling them around his waist. You nodded, although you knew he couldn’t see you.

As Haruchiyo revved the engine of his motorcycle, your arms tightened around his waist, interlocking your hands that rested on his stomach and leaned your encased head against his back.

He couldn’t help but smirk at your behaviour.

With that, the both of you speed into the darkness of the night, the stars dwelling upon you both. Twinkling like they were happy for you two and your newfound love for each other.

The cold air hit you as Haru manoeuvred his way to your destination, it felt nice riding the motorcycle. You were hesitant at first but managed to relax since Haruchiyo was with you, you felt the safest when you were with him.

It didn’t take too long before the two of you reached the all too familiar destination.

The Park.

The both of you sat sideways on his motorcycle, shoulders touching one another while basking in comfortable silence. “...Why me?” Haruchiyo broke the silence, genuine curiosity laced within his question.

“I mean, you practically have guys begging to be with you. All those expensive gifts, their money, their status… and I’m just… me. A lowly individual who definitely doesn’t make half as much as you do.”

Haruchiyo was genuinely confused as to why you even fell in love with him. It didn’t make sense. He’s done so many wrong things in his life, he wasn’t even making that much money and probably couldn’t provide even if he wanted to and he definitely didn’t even match up to your suitors.

They were wealthy and he was… just normal.

“You’re young and you have a great life ahead of you, so why choose someone like me? Why not go for someone near your age?” He continued.

You chuckled, “That’s the thing. I fell in love with you because you’re you.”

“I don’t care if they’re wealthy and bought me expensive gifts. Those don’t mean anything to me, and you of all people should know that by now. But you, on the other hand… you’re different. Yes, you might claim to have nothing and that’s okay with me, because all I’m after is your love and attention that you did not fail to give me every single time.”

“They could never buy my love with expensive gifts, but you were able to buy my love with attention because that’s all I’ve ever wanted, Haru.” you leaned your head on his shoulder, a sad smile forming on your lips.

Yes, Haruchiyo did not have the wealth to offer you like your suitors had but he offered you something greater, something you’ve been asking for your whole life and that was undivided attention.

He was attentive and listened to you like you were the most interesting person in the whole world–which in fact, he did think you are–, he has been nothing but sweet to you and you couldn’t help but fall in love with all that.

You couldn’t help but fall in love with a man who had no wealth to offer you.

And that was more than okay.

“Also, I don’t care if you’re older than me, it doesn’t matter. All my suitors were merely boys, I’m after a man who knows how to treat me well.”

Haruchiyo couldn’t help but laugh at your sentence, he reached for one of your cold hands and started rubbing them in between his own, tracing unfamiliar shapes on your palm, he leaned his cheek on top of your head and let out a sigh. “I really want to kiss you right now…”

You removed your head from his shoulder which made him look down at you, you met his gaze, “What’s holding you back, Haru? Kiss me.”

You’ll be the fucking death of him.

Haruchiyo obeyed and leaned down to close the gap between the two of you, both your lips cold from the winter air. His kisses were different this time, way different. Haruchiyo kissed with desperation, both his palms cupping your frozen cheeks as he desperately tried to get closer to you.

He didn’t hesitate to stick his tongue past your lips, to which you moaned at the foreign feeling. Everything felt so good, the way his tongue moved against your own, the way he tasted, and the way he firmly held you against his lips.

Haruchiyo trailed hot kisses along your jawline, making you shiver from the contrast of the cold temperature.

“Fuck… this is so unprofessional.” he whispered against the hot skin of your neck before lightly sucking on it. “I don’t— mhm! I don’t see you stopping though…” you angled your head up at the starry sky to give him more access to your neck, your hands making their way to his rosy pink hair and tugging at them.

Haruchiyo let out a low growl, chills running down his spine as you pulled at his hair, “Hmm? You seem to be enjoying yourself.” he chuckled as he gave your neck a peck before pulling away and looking at your flustered state.

Your lips were swollen and soft pants slipped past them as you stared at him with a clouded gaze. He’s barely even touched you and you’re already a mess.

“But… What about your father?” he suddenly looked concerned. The look in his eyes changing from lust to anxiety, he bit his lip at the thought of your father’s wrath. He wasn’t afraid of what your father would do to him, rather he was afraid of what would happen to you.

You were scared.

You knew your father never liked Haruchiyo, not even a single ounce of him but he tolerated Haru for your sake. He hired him for your sake. You were definitely scared of your father finding out about the two of you, there were a lot of reasons to be.

The first one being Haruchiyo not fitting into his standards. You two led very different lives and you could already hear the other companies and media gossiping about you and how you fell in love with your chauffeur who was an ex-delinquent.

You could see your father doing everything he could to make sure you’d have no contact with Haruchiyo.

You shook your head and buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent, it helped calm you down a bit. “I-i don’t know, Haru… I’m scared but all I know is that I want to be with you.” he placed a hand behind your head and stroked your hair, reassuring you that he’ll be by your side no matter what happened.

But deep down, he was scared shitless. Not because of your father but because he knew that the universe could easily take you away from his grasp and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, because that was life. Life was cruel and harsh, and he didn’t always get what he wanted, no matter how much he prayed to the stars above him.

This time, he wished the universe would listen to him just this once. He could be stripped away of everything for all he cared for but he wouldn’t know what to do if it was you who was taken away from him.

It pained his chest just thinking about it.

A few weeks have passed since establishing your relationship with Haruchiyo, in secret of course.

You two had gotten closer to each other and spent more time together in the evening–away from everyone’s prying eyes–after he picked you up from work, and you always looked forward to them because he truly made you forget about every single thing that stressed you out.

There would be times where you two would steal shy glances at each other whenever someone else was around, slightly brushing your hands with one another as you walked past him in the garage.

But there would also be times where no one was around and the two of you freely held one another, shy glances turned into make out sessions and the slight brush of your hands turned into firmly holding one another.

You also spent more time in the back area of the estate where most of the house workers would be.

You knew Haruchiyo hung around a lot there while waiting for you to go and thankfully all the other workers didn’t bat an eye at your sudden frequent appearance there.

Although, one thing that has gotten you on the edge was the now strained relationship with your father. You’d argued with your parents for days on end about the whole marriage idea and finding a suitor, you told them that it was simply too early to be getting married and that you wanted to focus on your career.

Of course, this was mostly true but you didn’t want to meet other suitors because you wanted to focus on your career but because you’ve already found someone who you want to spend the rest of your life with.

Your father didn’t take the argument too well which resulted in a strained relationship with him. You now felt like you were walking on eggshells when trying to converse with him.

You’ve also discussed countless times with Haruchiyo about the idea of introducing him as your boyfriend to your father, he wasn’t scared about the confrontation but he knew that it wouldn’t go well.

There was a small ounce of hope that maybe, just maybe that your father would actually be on board with your relationship. He wasn’t a cruel man, no, but he had his morals straight and did not hesitate to let anyone know.

But, this was merely just hope you were holding on to and you have yet to test it.

“You look absolutely stunning, by the way.” your boyfriend stole a glance at you from the rearview mirror, his aquamarine eyes twinkling in the dark vehicle.

You were on your way to the venue of the annual winter company party for all employers that worked under your family and the company, and that included Haruchiyo. “I could say the same about you.” you giggled. 

It was your first time seeing Haruchiyo sport a low bun but you weren’t complaining; he wore a 3-piece suit–provided by you–which he looked sexy in.

The way the vest hugged his thin waist did unexplainable things to you. Although, the highlight of it was you managed to convince him to leave the mask at home and when he had asked you ‘why’, you simply replied something along the lines of not being able to freely kiss him.

“I want you to walk in with me.” you said as Haruchiyo took the keys from the car and pocketed it, he looked back at you and smiled, nodding. His nerves were getting to him and he didn’t know why, it was just a party, that’s all.

It took all his will power to not wrap his arm around your waist to let all the other men in the room that you were his as you two walked inside.

As expected, it was grand.

Waiters were everywhere serving wine and fancy little appetizers that he probably couldn’t pronounce the name of; it was already filled with familiar faces dressed in fancy attires, many who stood around several cocktail tables and chatting with one another.

As if sensing Haruchiyo’s nervousness, you reached for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before dropping it, he wished you held it a little longer, he was already missing the warmth of your hand.

Your father spotted you and made his way towards the two of you, completely oblivious to the fact that you just held your chauffeur’s hand mere seconds ago. “Sanzu, so glad you could make it.” your father nodded in appreciation at the pink haired man, sternly smiling at him before dropping his gaze down to his uncovered lips.

Haruchiyo froze at this, he didn’t know what to do. The anxious feeling that he’s been pushing down now came surging up, spreading throughout his body, he felt so small and vulnerable, and he absolutely hated it.

You noticed your father’s gaze, annoyance rising as you mentally cursed to yourself. You shifted closer to your boyfriend, letting your arms touch, this made Haruchiyo a bit calmer and appreciated how you always looked out for him.

Before your father could say anything about Haruchiyo, you pulled him away, asking about tonight’s event. You quickly looked back at your boyfriend who was still standing there and mouthed an apologetic ‘I’m sorry’ as you led your father elsewhere.

Haruchiyo shook his head, indicating that it was okay, before pointing to the bar and heading for its direction. Maybe he’ll get a glass of water to clear his mind

With that, you and Haruchiyo barely saw each other as the night progressed. Apparently our father had invited some of the company’s business partners and introduced them to you, it was just never ending introductions all night and you wanted to be beside Haruchiyo.

You wanted to know how he was doing for the period of time you’d been gone from his side.

You finally got a breather from all the introductions and darted your eyes around the venue, there were a lot of people but you knew you could easily spot Haruchiyo by his pink hair, you craned your neck around to look out for his vibrant hair but you couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Looking for someone?” a voice asked behind you.

You let out a sigh and turned around, “Haru, I’ve been looking for you everywhe—” your sentence was cut short due to the fact that it was not Haruchiyo. “H-heizo… hey, um, nice to see you.” you gave him an uncomfortable smile and tried looking behind him for signs of your boyfriend.

The man in front of you began speaking about topics you couldn’t care less about. You only wanted Haruchiyo. You distractedly scanned your eyes around the venue once again, absentmindedly nodding at whatever he was saying before spotting a familiar head of pink hair, he was headed for the doors.

“H-hey, I’ll talk to you later. ‘Kay?” you gave Heizo a small wave and didn’t wait for his response before hastily making your way to Haruchiyo, who just now slipped past the entrance of the venue and was headed outside.

Little did you know, your hasty movements caught your father’s attention, you were headed outside which piqued his curiosity.

Haruchiyo was leaning against the side of the building, you spotted him as soon as you stepped outside, the cool winter air kissing your exposed skin which made you shiver a bit.

“Haru, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” you took a couple of steps and stopped towards the older man, effectively trapping him against the wall. No matter how much Haruchiyo decided to hide his emotions, you knew his eyes never lied. There was something bothering him, the way his aquamarine gaze avoided yours was a give away.

You frowned at his behaviour. “Baby… talk to me.” you tilted your head and cupped his cheeks, “Did anyone say anything to you?” he brought his warm hands over yours and leaned into your touch, eyes closing as it calmed his mind.

“I just— after your father gave me that stare earlier, I couldn’t help but become more insecure and I just felt like all eyes were on me whenever I walked around there.” Haruchiyo sighed and finally met your worried gaze. Your eyes softened at his expression and you gently ran both your thumbs on either corner of his lips.

Your thumbs traced the raised skin on his cheeks, softly stroking them as if it was the most fragile thing in the world, “I’m so sorry.” you whispered and leaned closer to him, giving his scars a kiss.

Your lips lingered on either side of his mouth, handling them with utmost care. Haruchiyo’s chest warmed at your action and leaned his forehead against yours, once again closing his eyes at the intimacy.

“I love you so much. I don’t think I can ever let you go.” he whispered.

You were about to close the gap between your lips until you felt a harsh grip on your wrist, suddenly pulling you away from Haruchiyo. His eyes shot open as he was met with emptiness in front of him, he looked around to see you standing next to your father, his hand firmly on your wrist. Your expression mirrored his, shocked, scared, and confused.

“Stay the fuck away from my daughter!” your father pointed a harsh finger at him, his face contorted with pure anger.

Haruchiyo began to explain the whole situation while taking a step towards you but your father had cut him off and stood in between, effectively blocking his view of you.

Your desperate attempts to calm your father down and telling him not to make such a scene were ignored, you balled your fists as you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

Your boyfriend noticed your distress and wanted to comfort you badly but like everything else in his life, all he could do was stand there and watch you cry.

“I’m taking you home.” your father glanced back at you before pulling you in the other direction, stumbling upon your heels as tears clouded your eyes. Haruchiyo stood there frozen on his spot, fists clenched by his side as the darkness engulfed your figure.

Just like that, he knew his prayers weren’t answered. He knew that the countless nights he prayed under the stars to have you did absolutely nothing.

Yes, the universe was cruel but why didn’t the stars align for you two? Why did he always have to lose something precious? He was already empty from the beginning but losing you gave him a whole new meaning of emptiness.

That night, you layed in bed staring up at the ceiling, tears still rolling down from your eyes. You haven’t stopped crying since the incident and it also didn’t help that your father argued with you all the way back home, he was the one who drove your car back, not Haruchiyo.

You told him about your relationship with Haruchiyo, to which he simply replied along the lines of ending your relationship with him.

You replayed every single harsh word that came out of his mouth about your boyfriend, it broke your heart thinking that there are some people out there that view Haruchiyo in this light. He didn’t deserve that.

“Out of all the guys you could’ve picked, you picked him?! Some scum from the streets? He has a criminal record for fucksakes! I’ve already been lenient enough when you asked me to hire him as your personal driver but this… I can’t let this slide. Having a relationship with your chauffeur? Absolutely outrageous!”

He told you that you were also getting a new chauffeur and forced you to delete and block all your connections with Haruchiyo which broke your heart even more. There was definitely no getting back from this and you feared you would never see him again. You just wanted to see him.

A small whimper escaped your lips, you felt helpless, you wanted to scream out your lungs but didn’t have the energy to, you just wanted Haruchiyo. Your chest ached and your throat tightened as you cried into your pillow, hands tightly gripping the sheets that engulfed your numb body.

You heard the familiar rev of Haruchiyo’s motorcycle, it was faint but distinguishable. He was here? You figured he was there to grab his motorcycle and head home for the night, your heart raced at the thought of him being so close yet so far. You were about to get off your bed and head for the garage until the roaring of his motorcycle faded into the darkness, he was gone.

If you want to see him, you can. A voice replied in your head.

You blinked your tears away and shot up from your bed, your mind running through the endless possibilities of seeing him. You didn’t know where he lived but you could easily obtain that information from the electronic copy of his job application that he had previously sent. 

Quickly reaching for your phone, you tapped through the ‘files’ application and pulled up the file you needed.

Bingo.

You entered the taxi you called for and never looked back, not fearing for anyone catching you leaving at this hour as your father had returned to the party and most staff were there as well. You didn’t care if you were in your pyjamas, all you cared about was that you were going to see Haruchiyo.

After paying and bidding the taxi driver a thank you, you made your way to his house, double checking the number stated on your phone with the one plastered on the door. You knew he was home because his motorcycle was parked near the front door.

You lifted a hand and gently knocked on it.

Footsteps on the other side of the door could be heard walking closer until it came to a halt. It took a few seconds before you could hear the fumbling of locks, like they already knew who was on the other side of the door.

The door burst open and revealed a dishevelled Haruchiyo, his rosy pink hair was a mess and his eyes puffy and bloodshot from crying.

You caught a distinct whiff of something else that made you scrunch your nose but you weren’t that naïve to not know what it was. There was definitely another reason why his eyes were red.

Haruchiyo laughed to himself, resting a palm over his eyes like he was going crazy, “Fuuuck, I’m so high that I’m even hallucinating right now.” he chuckled to himself, slurring the words that came out of his mouth.

You noticed the rolled joint rested between his fingers of his other hand and let out a heavy sigh.

You remember him telling you that he would occasionally smoke weed to ease the pain he felt but he reassured you that he hasn’t done it for a few months now. It pained you that you were partially the reason for his behaviour.

You wasted no time to wrap your arms around him, tightly hugging him and never wanting to let go. You reassured him that it was in fact not a hallucination and that you were really there with him. Haruchiyo did not believe you until he ran a slender hand down your back, stroking your hair.

The older man began sobbing uncontrollably that you were actually right in front of him and mumbled sentences along the lines of how he missed you so bad and how empty he felt for the past few hours.

You made your way inside and shut the door behind you, still not letting go of him, “It’s okay, I’m here now. I’ll never leave you.” you sniffled as you buried your face in his chest.

Haruchiyo pulled you both into the couch, his hands firmly situated on your hips as he pulled you onto his lap. He had a lot of questions running through his mind but he was too high to even think about it, all that mattered was that you were there with him.

You circled your arms around his neck and shifted on his lap, trying to find a comfortable spot, “Fuck, don’t do that princess.” Haruchiyo groaned, stilling your hips as he threw his head against the backrest and took a long drag before puffing his lungs out, thick smoke dancing past his lips and evaporating into thin air.

You keenly looked at him, eyes focused on the joint between his fingers.

He noticed your gaze and jutted the joint towards you, a brow lifting in suggestion. You met his clouded stare, eyes droopy and red from intoxication before dropping back down to the joint which emitted wisps of white smoke.

Without any hesitation, you took it from his hand and rested it between your puckered lips, taking a long drag like what Haruchiyo did. It immediately burned your lungs and throat, you couldn’t properly puff out the smoke as you coughed uncontrollably at the foreign sensation in your chest and tears began forming in your eyes.

Haruchiyo stroked your back and slightly chuckled at you, “You took it like a champ.”

He grabbed your hand that held the joint and pulled it closer to his lips before slowly inhaling, his pretty eyes never leaving yours the whole time he did this, and before he exhaled, he placed a hand on your nape and pulled you closer to him. Haruchiyo puffed out smoke past your lips as he gave you open mouthed kisses.

Everything felt so good and light. Your senses were becoming clouded as Haruchiyo did more rounds of blowing smoke into your mouth, you felt light headed, your sense of touch was heightened and you felt horny.

You suddenly felt everything. With the way his warm hands enveloped your neck to the way his lap felt against your thighs.

With intoxication clouding your senses, you didn’t hesitate to swing your leg over his lap and straddle Haruchiyo, to which he merely responded by holding either side of your hips, smirking.

“Haruuu, I want you so bad.” you leaned into his neck, sucking a spot which made him groan.

You started grinding your hips against his as you felt something tingling down there, begging for some kind of friction. Haruchiyo guided your hips against his hard clothed cock, shamelessly moaning at the sensation. Everything felt so good that even as little as grinding against you could get him over the edge.

“Fuck, princess, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into…” he whined as he rested the back of his head against the backrest of the couch, moving your hips back and forth.

You needed more.

You wanted to be closer to Haruchiyo and without thinking, your hands trailed down his chest and into his joggers but before your hands could venture any further, Haruchiyo caught your wrist, “I want to taste you.” he whispered, and kissed your hand.

The two of you messily made your way to his bedroom, lips moulding together and hands tangled with one another.

Haruchiyo softly pushed you onto the soft bed, you made yourself comfortable by scooting up to his pillows before laying down, the room was spinning and your head was pounding but you didn’t care.

He followed suit, crawling up to you and began marking your neck, his large hands making its way inside your pyjama top and grabbing your breast.

“No bra? How naughty…” he chuckled against your neck.

You could only whine at this as he roughly massaged your breasts. You didn’t even know your top was gone until Haruchiyo wasted no time sucking, licking and biting them, giving it all the attention it deserved.

“Haru, please. I just want you.” you grew impatient at his ministrations, he thought you were cute because you clearly had no idea what he was about to give you.

“And you’ll have me… you’ll just have to be a good girl for me first. I want to taste all of you.” he trailed a hand down past your stomach and into your pants. You immediately threw your head back as he circled your clit through your panties, groaning out his name as you tried to close your legs.

“Hmm, so responsive.” Haruchiyo smirked at the state of you as he pried your legs apart.

He wasted no time taking the last pieces of clothing off your body, pulling both your pants and panties down your legs.

Warmth spread up to your cheeks as you were exposed to Haruchiyo, it was your first time doing this and no one had ever seen the entirety of your body.

You closed your legs, suddenly feeling shy as he didn’t bother to hide the stare directed at your wet pussy, “Don’t hide from me now… you wanted this, remember?” he grabbed both of your knees and parted your legs, trailing soft kisses on your inner thigh.

Haruchiyo breathed in your scent as he got closer to your sex. He took experimental licks at your folds and observing your reaction to them, your face was contorted in pleasure and your head was thrown back against his pillows. He took this as an indication to keep going, and he did.

He pressed his mouth against your clit and started sucking like his life depended on it, this earned a loud moan of his name from you which urged Haruchiyo even more.

He slipped his tongue past your folds and explored the warmness of you, you tasted so fucking sweet and he couldn’t get enough of you. He alternated between giving your clit stiff licks and sucking on it which made your hands fly down to his rosy pink tresses and before you knew it, Haruchiyo had brought you to your first orgasm.

You felt a sharp sensation run up your spine as Haruchiyo brought you over the edge, lapping up every single bit of your cum, your vision became white for a second and you swore you saw stars.

Your chest heaved at the intense sensation but you couldn’t help look down at him, he had your cum running down his chin, messy rosy pink hair and heavy lidded eyes.

“I’m not done with you yet, I’m just getting started.”

By the time he brought you to your second orgasm using his fingers, you were already sensitive but you knew what was coming next and you’ve been anticipating this ever since you started grinding on his clothed cock.

Although, you were a bit afraid of his length even though you haven’t seen it, but you’ve surely felt it. Two slender fingers were already too much for you, so you didn’t know what to expect of his cock.

Haruchiyo finally took off all articles of clothing that hid his pretty body, you gaped at his torso, he was definitely on the skinnier side but was well-built. He reached for his joggers and pulled them down along with his brief, he sighed at the sensation that his cock wasn’t being restrained by anything.

Fuck, he was long.

You stared at his stiff cock in all its glory, it wasn’t that thick but his length definitely made up for it. The tip had a pretty shade of pink, just like his lips and was already leaking of precum.

He gave his cock a few strokes before grabbing a condom from the night stand and rolling it down his length, he got on the bed and crawled closer to you.

Haruchiyo sat on his knees and rubbed the tip of his dick at your entrance which earned a whine from you, he got on top of you and started kissing your lips, distracting as he was slowly slipping his dick inside.

“Haru, fuck!” your hands flew to his biceps, gripping them as he pushed further inside, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you anywhere?” his head shot up, concern filling his eyes as he met your glassy gaze, you hastily shook your head and urged him to continue.

With that, Haruchiyo continued pushing in, “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight for me…” he buried his face against your neck, goosebumps arising from his hot pants. You felt an uncomfortable stretch as he continued to push his cock inside your tight heat but at the same time, it felt good. So good.

As he bottomed out, Haruchiyo had to take a breather, you were hugging him so tight that if he moved even the slightest bit, he would come right then and there. He pulled out just a bit and squeezed the base of his cock until the urge to cum just dissipated.

“Please move.” you whined and brought a hand up to his cheek, stroking his scar.

Haruchiyo obeyed and didn’t waste any time before slowly moving in and out of you which caused you to moan loudly and throw your head back against his pillows, your exposed neck gave him the liberty to paint it with even more bruises.

He started to pick up his pace, his balls slapping against your ass and loud squelching sounds could be heard throughout the room.

“F-fuck! You’re so good for me, huh? No wonder why you chose me over them—ngh! You like a man who can give you good dick?” he panted against your ears, sucking and nibbling on them as his thrusts didn’t falter.

You could only moan at his words and claw his back due to the unfamiliar sensation engulfing your body but Haruchiyo wasn’t satisfied with this. “Answer me.” he whispered before biting the side of your neck, harshly.

“A-ah, fuck! Yes! That’s you Haru.” you yelped.

You didn’t even know your eyes were closed until he pulled out of you and was about to whine in protest at his sudden movement, “Wha—” “Face down, ass up for me, pretty girl.” You sat up and turned to face the mattress, bringing your torso down and leaving your ass exposed.

Haruchiyo briefly massaged your ass before pushing back into your cunt and bottoming out all in one go. You balled your fists against his sheets and let out a loud moan, this position was even better, you never knew he could reach inside this deep.

He started moving again, hips loudly slapping against your ass as he matched the thrusts he had previously given you, your moans were definitely a pitch higher and all kinds of sounds spilled from your lips uncontrollably.

You were suddenly roughly grabbed by the back of your neck, resulting in your back pressing against Haruchiyo’s broad chest. Both his palms massaged each of your breasts as he fucked up into you, causing you to throw your head back at his shoulder.

“You’re always so good for me… so pretty.” he whispered, his voice strained indicating that he was close.

“Mm! Only for you Haru—ah!” you reached down and started rubbing fast and tight circles on your clit, wanting to cum with him.

The coil inside you snapped and you started cumming around his cock, fisting your hands against his mattress as the familiar intense sensation runs up your spine. You loudly moaned his name, back arching as the pleasure became too intense.

At the same time, Haruchiyo roughly pushed your face back into the mattress, his thrusts becoming even rougher as he neared his climax.

All it took for him was your clenching walls and he threw his head back in pure bliss, mouth parted as loud shameless moans slipped out, grinding his hips against your ass which pushed his dick even further inside as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

A chain of profanities rolled from his tongue as he shallowly thrusted inside you, milking every last drop of his cum.

The two of you were both spent and sweaty, and how Haruchiyo managed to clean you up was beyond your comprehension. The last thing you saw were his aquamarine eyes and long lashes holding your gaze before sleep took over you, you swore you heard him say ‘I love you’.

The morning came rolling around and your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you saw was Haruchiyo’s peaceful state. He looked so pretty and effortlessly beautiful with the way his long lashes brushed against his cheeks.

You definitely had a keen eye for pretty things.

He looked soft, definitely a complete contrast from his persona last night.

You could get used to waking up to his pretty face every single morning because even though Haruchiyo didn't have anything materialistic to offer you, unlike everyone else, he only had one thing he could truly afford, the one you've been chasing your whole life.

Undivided attention.

Haruchiyo may have not noticed it but his love and attention may have been the most expensive gift you've ever received.

And you knew you’d fight for his love, no matter what it took because you were tired of hiding him from the world.

You wanted to scream your lungs out on a rooftop that you were in love with Haruchiyo Sanzu, the man who offered you nothing and everything at the same time.

wowie, thanks for making it to the very end!

© mitsuyeaah

#sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu smut #sanzu angst #sanzu fluff #sanzu x reader #sanzu x you #sanzu brainrot #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers

[emelinstriker]

{Twice As Bad AU} Wukong & Macaque ♤ Even Little Things

Art drawn by me.

My little take on @semisolidmind's TAB AU due to peeps asking me to cover that as an X Reader ever since that one doodle I once did for it.

As usual, tweaked some things a bit in the AU just for the sake of the plot- And also cuz I haven't really kept track of all the canon things in the AU, so I'm mostly just using the basic premise of the AU and added/removed some things for the story twist, humor and all that. So please don't take it as canon y'all-

Also, I speedran this within three days to post it earlier than planned, so... Happy birthday, Semi! Have 4k words of ya bois as birthday gift, I guess. :D

TW: Descriptions of death and gore

[TL;DR] Monke have 'yummy' berry if customer have coin.

♤ ~ Emotional Mix ~ ♤

It started out as a regular day at the market for you.

You owned a little stall where you would sell berries you and your little monkey friends collected. You kept on insisting that you wanted to collect them on your own, but the two ginger-furred and dark-furred monkeys just wouldn't leave you alone. Though, their kindness and willingness to help you did prove useful in the end. You managed to garner a lot of berries by the end of the day. How they managed to get them all? You would never know. You didn't exactly question it much either due to how many you were able to sell. Sales were pretty good today as well... And as per usual, your two little monkeys were practically guarding you and your stall, which you found really adorable. They looked like two innocent and fluffy puppies looking out for their beloved owner. And their cuteness did definitely contribute to your berry selling success.

Though, while they were pretty quiet and polite towards your customers that were just there to buy berries, there were some they truly didn't like to have around you at all... More specifically, those who showed even the slightest bit of romantic interest towards you.

Especially that farmer boy.

God, they really hated that guy for some reason.

Even if they just saw him walk across the street, far away from where you actually were, they would already start letting out aggressive sounds of pure hatred. Meanwhile you would just awkwardly wave at the poor guy. Though, besides the few customers that had interest in you, your monkeys were pretty well-behaved when you were around. You found it adorable how they would even help fill up tiny bags with berries like little helpers. And if they weren't doing that, they would either sit or lie around on your stall or cling onto you while you worked. They especially loved body contact with you, so they mostly clung onto you. All they wanted in return for their help was your affection, oddly enough. No snack either, just affection. You only had to give them little kisses or cuddle them a bit and they were already melting in your arms. Another cute thing they would do whenever you were selling berries was to give you gifts...

Well, it certainly sounds cute in theory.

However, their gifts ranged from not only some simple shiny rocks and flowers, but also to literal little animals and insects... Which were usually alive whenever they were the dark-furred monkey's gift, but were most definitely always dead in the ginger-furred monkey's case. Of course, you would still praise them as to not upset them... And while they were highly aware of your discomfort whenever they brought in animals and insects, they just ignored it. Then again, you never thought much of it since in your eyes, they were just monkeys. Just two simple, silly, little monkeys. Why would they respect your discomforts when they couldn't even talk?

Well, despite your little monkeys not being able to talk to you, they did seem to understand you. Which felt really nice, considering most in the village either didn't trust you or enjoy talking to you... So their company was very endearing and appreciated.

Especially in certain moments...

"What do you mean you're out of berries?" A tough-looking man asked, definitely pissed off. So you tried to stay calm and defuse the situation as best as you could.

"Sorry, sir... But all berries are already sold out. The last batch was sold a few minutes ago. B-But you could come back tomorrow and-" "I don't have the fucking time to come back tomorrow! I need those berries now!" He rudely cut you off.

"I, uh, understand, sir, but-" "I know you still have berries in stock! I can see a bunch in the basket over there!" He cut you off again, yelling in your face as he pointed towards the basket behind you. You grimaced a little in discomfort.

"Sir, those are berries I'll deliver after work to a woman who already paid for them-" "Then give her that money back or some shit, will ya?! Just give me those damn berries instead already!" The man looked like he would jump behind the stall's counter any moment now to launch himself at you, when you suddenly heard very familiar growling coming from behind the man... He turned around, only to see two small monkeys glaring furiously at him.

The man scoffed. "The fuck are those doing here? Are those your pets or some shit?" You gave your monkeys worried glances, not wanting them to get involved and get hurt. This man looked tough and would have no problem getting rid of two little monkeys...

But your monkeys were different.

Instead of backing down, they slowly approached the man aggressively on all fours. Their tails were dangerously swaying behind them as they snarled at him... While they could tolerate the presence of customers in most cases, this was one of the few cases where they really were just out to murder. All they needed was an opening...

Wukong then seemingly stopped snarling for a moment as he whispered something extremely quietly, to which Macaque nodded. While Macaque continued to aggressively approach the man, his brother gave the man one last glare before running up to you instead, launching himself at you. Startled, you stumbled back a bit as he jumps at you. And with seemingly extreme strength, he managed to knock you down to the ground behind your stall. Your stall obscured your vision of the man and your other monkey. You groaned a bit in pain before you looked at the ginger-furred monkey, who just smiled at you with a love-struck gaze. He didn't attack you or anything, his tail just swayed happily as he nuzzled you. You, of course, were confused by his sudden mood change. "Why did you tackle me-"

Then, you heard a scream from the man for just a split second before the other monkey's snarling suddenly stopped. Everything was silent. Suspicious and confused, you held the ginger-furred monkey against your chest while he continued to happily nuzzle into you. You then stood back up and looked towards the front of your stall... The man was gone. But the dark-furred monkey was still there, sitting contently like a good boy where the man once was. His tail happily swayed behind him as well as if nothing ever happened just now...

The man's decomposing body was found hanging from a tree by his own guts in the forest a few days later. According to those who found his corpse, his body was completely mangled. His face was seemingly ripped or mauled off, displaying his skull with his eyes missing. His rib cage seemed to have been crushed and his abdomen was torn wide open. Part of his organs were missing, and a single bloody peach was found buried inside the body. His tongue was ripped off and literally stuffed down his throat, as if it were there to tell him to forever keep quiet... Not to mention all his broken bones that were not just simply snapped, but crushed into pieces. The entire scene was extremely horrifying for those that saw his remains. Some sort of brutal demon must've killed him. Yet the reasons were unknown as to why this man would be murdered in such a gruesome way... What did the man think in his last moments? Was he immediately dead or was he tortured alive? The people of the village seemed to mentally point their fingers in your direction, however. Especially due to how you were one of the last people they saw him with.

That was just one of the strange happenings surrounding you and your monkey companions.

Something else the villagers noticed was the other rather recent murder cases looked similar, though less brutal. Whoever, or whatever, killed the other people also killed this man. But the other victims usually only had their abdomens be ripped open and their organs ripped out, for whatever reason... Though, they all were found with a single bloody peach inside them.

And of course, villagers kept you in mind as a major suspect. Which was sort of understandable since all those people were people who basically told you to get lost and fuck off, telling you that you don't belong in their community. The more people suspected you to be at least involve in the serial murders, the less people would stop by your berry stall. Which in turn made you feel sad and confused... Did you do something wrong?

Your two little monkeys noticed your guilt and self-doubt creeping in, and they didn't like seeing you beat yourself like this over whatever those other humans thought of you.

Thus, they decided now was the time to make themselves known and 'save' you from this unworthy village.

And what better way than to go out with a bang?

So, they decided to help 'sell' some berry bags personally and directly. They packed them up themselves again and snuck into peoples' houses, taking some of their coins and leaving a bag of berries everywhere they went. The two of them were extremely helpful. They came back to you with coins everytime, so you assumed they managed to sell their little bags to happy customers. All would be fine again soon...

...At least, that's what you had hoped.

News spread fast in the village.

A death was reported in the east.

Another further north.

Few more in the west.

The southern area seemed to have multiple dead people already...

People were dropping dead like flies everywhere within the span of just a single day...

The entire panic rising within the village only seemed to enhance your uneasiness as well. You were mostly outside around your stall after all... What if this so called serial killer found you? Or perhaps there was a deadly virus going around and you shouldn't even be outside in the first place...

You held your monkeys close in worry as you feared for their and your own safety, standing behind your stall once more. While you were feeling uneasy, your monkey companions only seemed all too happy and content with no care in the world as you let them nuzzle into you with cute little chirps. Sighing, you looked at all the berries you still haven't managed to sell. Feeling a little hungry, you decided to eat a few of the berries you had. After taking one of the berry bags the monkeys had packed, you grabbed a few of the berries and were about to eat them.

Suddenly, the ginger-furred one stopped you by quickly switching from clinging onto your chest to clinging onto the arm that was holding the berries, stretching his body from your arm up to your hand to clasp his own little hands around it, keeping you from eating the berry. He looked at you with seemingly slightly concerned eyes, shaking his head as he let out quiet noises, which sounded like he was begging you not to eat them. It was strange how strong this little monkey actually was... His tiny hands were preventing you from even opening your hand. The dark-furred monkey also seemed to join in on stopping you from consuming those berries as he nuzzles into your neck, wrapping his tail around the arm that's holding the bag. The sight must've looked funny to others if they were passing by, to be honest.

Confused, you decide to just listen to the monkeys and not eat the berries... Maybe they were just upset that you'd wanna unpack and eat the berries they had so nicely packed for customers earlier. Which would make sense.

Another day had passed and...

Where was everyone?

You set up your bags at your stall and were patiently waiting for someone, anyone, to even just walk past. However, everything was silent for a few hours. Dead silent for a village that had a bunch of gossip going around. Not even your monkey companions were following you this morning, oddly enough. This only added to your fear since those little guys were like your comfort pets.

Another hour passed and finally some sound was heard in the distance. Were those... screams?

Now more on edge than ever, you decided that maybe you should sit this day out on trying to sell... You didn't exactly want to lose your life to some massacre or virus after all. A bit panicked by the scream, you quickly tried to pack up the little berry bags into a basket. But as you were starting to pack up, you could hear a male voice fake coughing to grab your attention. Startled by the sudden noise after all the dead silence, you almost dropped one bag before you turned to face the person in front of your stall... Or, uh... Monkey...?

This dark-furred monkey seemed familiar... Maybe he was related to one of your little monkey friends?

He smirked at you as he leaned against the stall, his tail swaying slowly behind him. "Hey there, sugarplum. Did I arrive a bit too late? My brother and I heard you sell delicious berries here."

You waved your hand dismissively, nervous as you never had a monkey, or rather a demon in this case, being a customer. The nickname was also making you a little nervous, but maybe he was just one of those people who give everyone they see nicknames. "Oh- No, no- You're not late- I just... Didn't think I would get any customers today..."

He leaned in a bit closer to you. "Oh? Why's that? Aren't your berries said to be the best in this village though?"

"Uh, well... Yes, but usually some customers would've already bought some at this time in the day... But you'd be my first customer today." You admitted sheepishly. He only seemed to grin... You didn't know he could hear your anxious heartbeat. He knew you didn't exactly feel safe. But you were still trying to be calm and polite towards even a dangerous-looking demon him. Which he found cute. That's when his ear twitched as he heard something you couldn't hear, making his grin turn into a more... seductive one.

"I'm actually not here to buy any of those bags you're offering. I am interested in one specific berry from your stall, however."

You blinked at him in confusion. "...What berry? They're all pretty much the same?"

"Not all of them." He responded. The simian chuckled as he looked at you with intent. "There's one berry my brother and I have been keeping a close eye on for quite a while now, and we want to claim that berry for ourselves... It simply sticks out. Just like a delicious peach amongst a bunch of mediocre berries. My brother's words, not mine. But I do have to agree with him on this one." He then leaned in a little closer to you, still giving you this sort of seductive grin. "And as an honorable and kind merchant, surely you would love to fulfill a customer's simple request... Right?"

His deep voice made him sound so smooth, but his words and the way he said them also just sounded... Off... This was not a regular exchange for food, that much you could tell. But before you could reply, you heard another voice coming from behind you. "Well, well, well... How's business? Did I miss anything, Macaque?" You turned around in shock, noticing a ginger-furred simian behind you. Some sort of red and gold staff is held loosely on his shoulder as he smirked. Though, the thing that set you off the most were the clear blood spots on his fur, his clothes, and especially on one side of his staff...

"Nah, you didn't miss a thing. I was just mentioning what we wanted to 'buy'." Macaque responded with a shrug as he leaned back a bit, though still resting with his arms on the stall's counter.

They could clearly tell you were scared. And of course, as your beloved monkeys, they wanted to make you feel as comfortable around them as possible. So, maybe a little bit of an introduction would make things easier. The ginger-furred monkey raised his free hand with a little wave, smiling kindly as if he didn't just murder humans a few minutes ago. "Hey, peaches! My name is Sun Wukong. Legendary Monkey King and Great Sage Equal To Heaven! Also strongest demon you'll ever see as well as the most sexy monkey in existence- Aaaanyway, this is my sworn brother, and second-in-command, the Six-Eared Macaque." He said to break the ice, gesturing towards the dark-furred monkey as well.

"Just call me Macaque. And him Wukong." Macaque added with a bit of a shrugging hand motion. Then he moves his hand just enough to point towards his brother with a taunting, shit-eating grin. "It's much easier than Six-Eared Macaque and whatever the fuck long ass title Wukong decided to give himself." He grins smugly, to which Wukong huffs in a rather arrogant way.

"Well, excuse me for having achieved more in life than you." Wukong retorted.

"Great Sage Equal To Heaven was not an achievement if you practically begged for it."

"But Warlord was."

"You didn't even name that title in your introduction though??"

"I didn't wanna make them feel more anxious than they already are, okay??"

"And since when are you the most sexy monkey in existence?? That's bullshit and you know it."

"Hey! That title may be a tiny bit opinion-based, but it is an accurate description of me."

"Could you stop letting your ego go to your head for like five minutes? I'm still the brains in this duo. And the brain doesn't need the muscle's ego surrounding it."

"...Okay, now this is getting fucking personal, you goddamn hypocrite-"

To be honest, you weren't exactly scared at this moment anymore, just confused and uncomfortable due to them arguing and practically being so close to just claw at each other's throats over petty titles. Macaque rolled his eyes at Wukong before turning back to you, trying to get back on topic to avoid Wukong getting pissed at him over nothing again. "So about that 'peach amongst berries' talk-" Suddenly, Wukong quickly wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against his blood-stained armor with a grin. His annoyed mood immediately flipped like a switch to a more love-struck one again.

"Oh? Did our peaches agree? Was my pick-up line enough to convince them~? Did you tell them about the real us yet?" He hummed. You grimaced a bit in discomfort at him suddenly touching you so casually. Especially because you could tell he reeked of death... Was... Was he the one who killed those people...? The more you thought about it, the more connections clicked in your mind... The peach references, the way people described the latest murder of the man who yelled at you, the fact that for some reason it's all connected to literal demon monkeys...

Your heartbeat rose up, making Macaque smirk. "Well, not verbally... But I think they're starting to understand what's happening on their own. What a smart human we've picked!"

"Y-You- Wh- Wait what-" You stammered out in shock, definitely now more scared than ever before. Wukong quickly picked you up into his arms after making his staff seemingly disappear into thin air. His strength was no joke either as he clearly didn't struggle at all in holding you. His tail was happily moving behind him in excitement.

"C'mon, Macaque. We got what we came here for." Wukong stated as he walked a bit further away from your stall. You attempted to escape by trying to move out of his grip, but despite barely even gripping onto you, you were simply just flailing around a bit, clearly unable to escape your cage that were his arms. He simply ignored your attempt at an escape as he smiled contently, giving you a very familiar love-struck look...

That reminded you of your little monkey companions. Your heartbeat spiked and Macaque took notice. He raised an eyebrow at you in confusion because your heartbeat didn't change much since you started flailing in Wukong's arms. "Is something wrong, (Y/N)?"

You stopped in shock, looking at the dark-furred monkey with wide eyes. "W-Wh... H-How do you know my name?"

Ah. Right, right. You didn't know yet.

Macaque chuckled as he cupped your cheek with you still in his brother's arms. "Well, you see... We sorta picked up your name during the weeks, or I guess months at this point, when we were helping you around the village. You know, packing up berries and all that... We even made sure the latest batches had the freshest type of toxin for the best quality!" He grinned maliciously as he crossed his arms. Your mouth hung agape in shock as some tears gathered in your eyes...

"You... Y-You were those two monkeys...?" You asked quietly in disbelief... All those deaths... If they put those toxic berries in the bags you were paid for... Didn't that automatically make you a form of accomplice in their schemes? And you got paid for basically allowing them to kill all these people. You started to sob, "...Oh my god... No, no, no... This- T-This can't be- I-I would never h-help... kill- I-I d-didn't mean t-to-"

Wukong then leaned his head down a bit to kiss your forehead with a faint blush and a soft smile. "Shhh... It's fine, peaches. Don't cry. You can just put all the blame on us if that helps." He said quietly, trying to sound comforting. The warlord clearly didn't care about all the dead people, he only cared about wanting to see you smile. He summoned some form of cloud and hopped onto it with you still trapped in his arms. Then he gave his second-in-command a malicious grin. "Macaque, I'll take them home. Sweep through the village one last time. If anyone is still alive, you know what to do."

Macaque returned his own malicious grin as he bowed a little. And with his bow, a shadow-like portal opened up beneath him, swallowing him into the ground. Meanwhile, you could only helplessly watch as Wukong made his cloud fly high up into the skies at pretty high speeds. If you managed to escape his grasp now, you would just be dead. Looking back towards your village, you could see bodies lying outside, most had no blood as they probably died to the berries, but some were clearly attacked earlier by Wukong... You also witnessed houses collapsing within giant flames...

Even the sky above the village itself seemed to look doomed from afar...

You could even still see another human begging for help before being tortured by Macaque's shadows...

You were just silently crying as Wukong took you away to Flower Fruit Mountain, which would soon become your new home. Whether you would like it or not. You were theirs now. And it all simply started with some small berries...

If only you had known that even the littlest of things could snowball you down to hell.

[ Masterlist ]

#twice as bad au #bad end wukong #jttw x reader #sun wukong x reader #macaque x reader #jttw sun wukong #jttw monkey king #lmk x reader #six eared macaque x reader #six eared macaque fanart #macaque fanart #sun wukong fanart #lego monkie kid x reader #emotional mix #cw: gore #yandere behavior #monkey king x reader

[suguruplsr]

Let me be your cure

featuring.. Alhaitham

✰ ✰ ✰ You gave up on love after being affected with the infamous hanahaki. With pity and sadness slowly swallowing your life whole, you end up in the hospital. Reluctant to getting surgery. And your boring, sadly hot, doctor doesn't seem to care. At least until he finds himself thinking about you.

,, x fem!reader , reader had an ex fiancé who was shitty , fluff w/ angst + comfort , mentions of blood and bruises (caused by the disease) , purely fictional! i know nothing about how hospitals actually operate or if things in my story are or are not allowed! so as you read, remember its purely fictional!

+ disease used is called hanahaki! and it is fictional, and used in many fictional stories, like mine. in shorter terms, a character affected by this disease coughs up flowers and, usually, blood, because of rejection or the loved character not loving them, (without it being said too!). it’s mostly solved with the loved character realizing their love for mc and saving them. or in other cases, the mc getting surgery and losing feelings for the loved character.

↬ 1K Event Masterlist

wc: 5K+

- divider @/benkeibear

“Why are you staring?" You huff, making the gray-haired man in front of you nearly lose his composure. There’s no reason why someone like him should be stuck with some bratty woman. Okay, maybe he should have some sympathy. considering it’s a part of his job. “Ma’am, I'm just evaluating your physical health by sight for now.” You groan, turning your head away.

You’re literally going to die within this year and You can’t even at least get someone who is a bit more bubbly and nice to be around! not some cold guy with looks that could kill.

His eyes were unique. like targets or darts, probably? Your confuzzled mind couldn’t make sense of most things at the moment, but you felt strange underneath his gaze. intimidated. even without looking at him.

“Maybe if you wiped that scowl off your face, you wouldn't be in this situation. Probably drove the guy off." Alhaitham mutters. Yeah, yeah, it’s unprofessional, but he wasn’t disappointed with your reaction. His eyes lingered around your face, noticing how your tired, red eyes widened. But your lips curled, as if satisfied, mixing with the disbelief in your words. "Oh, you must be the funniest one around. What? Was I supposed to just smile? Say, 'Oh, I don’t mind, you’re fucking your secretary! Let’s plan our honeymoon, though!’ And hope to continue our romantic story?” You sneer, rolling your eyes dramatically.

“Well, it clearly didn’t work.” Alhaitham almost snickers. finding amusement in your extroverted attitude. He jots down a few more noticeable signs of your defect. Your lips look like they’ve been bit a lot, your nails are brittle, and your hair is frizzy and not taken care of. These are pretty normal things that the nurses should be able to help with. But he does eye the areas that aren’t just normal, like the bruises that reached to your neck or the ones on your arms that the gown does little to hide.

As you ramble on about your not-so-perfect love story, Alhaitham flips through the history of your visitors. It’s been three weeks since you were hospitalized, and there has been only one visitor since the day you came. which he’d assume was your mother or father. “Not a lot of friends or family?” He interrupts, his tone maybe a tiny bit softer than how firm it usually is. simply out of respect, of course. “Yeah, well, when you choose to die on your hill, not everyone wants to watch." You chuckle, smiling a bit.

He’d think that smile wouldn’t meet your eyes—cliche, right? But it did—a smile that wasn't too happy and an expression that wasn't too happy. But he merely hums in agreement, having no words of comfort and fixing his binder.

“Anyways, a female doctor will come and do a physical inspection before we prepare for your x-ray appointment in a few days. Although it seems that the roots of the flower may be growing and causing damage from the inside, His words make you waver, looking down at your lap. Was this really a good choice? It’s probably too late for surgery—not like you want one, but...

Alhaitham studies the visible emotions crossing your face before heading towards the door. “Make sure you ask for some food; you’re heavily malnourished."

The next few weeks have been bland. You wake up around 10 AM, and usually the nurse you’ve learned to call, Ms.Candace, is bringing your food inside and having a small conversation with you. Eventually, she begins the morning routine, doing your hair with a nice side of warm herbal tea. Chapstick, nails, and a light pair of pajamas, and then talking about what you’d like to do for the rest of your day.

But just when you think you won't ever have to see that snobby doctor,

“Unfortunately for you, you won’t be able to go outside.” Alhaitham steps into the room, clipboard in hand, and shoots a look of no remorse towards your huff. “And why not? I haven’t seen the light of day for what feels like months."You scoff, making the blue-haired woman beside you sigh. "Well, miss, your body is already becoming slower, and there’s signs you are getting weaker in general. I'm sure he’s just wanting to prevent your state from getting any worse.” Yet her sweet words do little to calm the bubbling feeling within your chest.

You shake your head as she goes to walk out, giving the gray-haired man one more look before the door closes. He ignores it, “Anyway, after the results of your recent checkups, the estimate of how much time you have left to live was determined. but I doubt it’ll affect you considering you’re one stubborn woman." Alhaitham raises his eyebrows at you, anticipating your rebuttal before you can even get it out. but instead, you suddenly get into a fit of coughs. It’s like an eruption within your chest. the tiny tree within, sending an array of attacks.

You hate it—the prickly feeling that wells up, like knives cutting your insides as flowers sputter and fall into the palm of your hand. Your eyes water from the odd sensation you’ve lived with, and you question yourself with the same old question you uttered the day you made your decision.

Was it worth it?

Was it worth sticking with a man who never had to even speak of his loss of love for you? The yellow carnations were enough. Symbolizing the rejection you’ve faced from him, something you never thought you’d ever have to endure after your relationship was taken to the next level,

Alhaitham had grabbed the new form of medication you were going to start using, a syringe filled with yellow liquid. He grabs your arm, his eyes quickly traversing around your body, especially your throat, for signs that may be more alarming than they should be. He looks into your eyes, seeing the panic and fear that have swelled within them. “I know it hurts, but breathe...” He whispers, keeping your arm firmly still as the syringe prickles into your skin. You look away in fright. You hate needles, but you hate this even more.

The spiky feeling in your throat slowly subsides as you spit out some blood. "I'm fine now...” Your croaky voice makes him jeer, swiftly grabbing a band-aid for the little spot of blood on your arm. "You aren’t. You’re, quite literally, dying. Although it seems like you may be dying way faster than I thought.” He sighs, moving around the room and grabbing a few of your medications. “We'll have to give you stronger medication to reduce the pain. I'll have Ms. Candace and a few other people come help you," he says, leaving almost as quickly as he came.

The nurses come in within a short time, the room bustling with movement and questions being directed towards you. The blood staining the pretty gold ring on your finger makes you finally wake up.

You’re actually dying.

And it’s for a man who swears he could never love you again.

Oh, how tricky fate can be with those stupid I love you's.

“How’re you feeling?” Alhaitham mumurs. You’ve been ignoring the man who sat in front of you, all silent, ever since the fiasco yesterday. You could only stare down at the ring around your finger, twisting it and sometimes daring to fully shed it off your finger.

You don’t have the guts to do that, even if he did. without any hesitation either.

“With how much you talk, I'm surprised you aren’t yelling at me for just existing.” He muses, his eyes flickering from his clipboard up to where you sit on the hospital bed. You don’t have the energy to banter with him, "I'm not that childish.” “You’d be surprised." His mutter makes you jolt, your face twisting into a pout.

“It sounds like you just have a problem with me!” you gibe. but Alhaitham’s eyebrow raises. as if you hit the target with that one. "Possibly," he mumbles, focusing back on the papers in front of him. Your fusses fall dead on his ears.

His problem with you wasn’t bad—more like pity. Something he rarely feels for patients, only understanding their situations, giving affirmations, and moving on. but he finds your situation simply ridiculous. Not only are you dying for a man who left you for another, but he doesn’t even have the respect to pay for your medical fees. Not to mention, literally, your mother was the one who paid, only stating to him that she has no plans on visiting and that he was allowed to do whatever once you died.

What a heartless woman!

“Since you’re so absorbed in that paper—“ “You must not have an ‘off’ button.” His eye twitches at the tone of your annoyance, all sickly and sweet. He could practically hear the joke Cyno would make. "Actually, I do. and it’s counting down. Speaking of, you never told me how long I have left.” Okay, maybe you were a bit funny. and it’s something that should definitely not make his lips almost form into a smile. However, he clears his throat, not bothering to flip through the mountain of pages. considering he already memorized the information. “Two months at least. With the rate at which your body is deteriorating, the best you’ll be able to last is maybe an extra week or two.

Alhaitham’s stomach strangely twists at the sight of your mood dampening once again. your head looking back down to your arms, and your lips pressed tightly together. But it wasn’t like he cared; it’s just interesting to see how fast the light can disappear from one’s eyes. something he realized long ago that he'd see a lot of.

It’s probably just from how tense the room got all of a sudden. nothing he can’t handle.

Before you know it, droplets of tears fall onto the blanket bunched around your lap, like a rainfall that just doesn't stop. no matter how fast you bring your hands up to wipe them away. "Sorry, I'm just going—" “Go ahead. I see it every day." Alhaitham doesn’t let you argue. He pulls out a small handkerchief from his chest pocket, inscribed with the letter A in cursive. but he doesn’t mind your slight humiliation, or whatever it is making you uncomfortable in front of him, looking away and grabbing a piece of paper.

Once your blurry eyes are clear, you see that he has left you in silence, leaving behind a sheet of paper. clutching the white cloth, you read the words, a smile blooming on your face. Make a bucket list.

“Abiding by our policies, you can’t get your nails painted.” Alhaitham shuts down the 20th idea you had. He sat in the chair in front of you, avoiding the glare you threw at him and skimming through the third row. Maybe she should’ve predicted that a dying person would want to do exactly, one hundred and one, things before their death.

But it’s not like he’s done this before.

"Okay, what, can I do?!” You huff, already fed up with the word ‘no’. "Well, since you can’t go out, we can watch that movie, ’scream’, here." Alhaitham sighs, watching how your whole mood lit up, your eyes almost sparkling. This is going to be a long two months.

“mhm! what else.” You giggle, clapping your hands together. It’s almost comical to him to see how expressive you are. Looking back down at the paper he held, he began picking out some of the activities you would be able to do.

And in the end, you ended up winning him over in a few things, like being able to use some make-up for fun, more movies, specific snacks that you’ll have to eat at very specific times, board games that you convinced him to play with you, and basically anything and everything that you can do with the tiny little home of your room.

You even managed to persuade the silver-haired man to let you get some press-on nails. nails, which Candace, thankfully, went out to buy. but surprisingly, the doctor decided to put them on you himself. since Ms.Candace was attending to another patient and he had some free time. Well, at least that was his excuse. Not like you know, he was simply curious to see your excitement over something so small.

“That one fits the ring finger more.” You correct Alhaitham again, making him squint his eyes, mumbling under his breath, and moving his fingers to hold your hand firmer. And you just so happen to be right. He sets it aside carefully, putting it in the line of pretty pink and black gemmed nails. He picks up the last smaller nail, the one that finally fits your index finger perfectly.

“Isn’t it pretty?” You smile, adoring the nails, as he concentrates on applying the fake nails. He gives a low tsk, a faux look of confusion on his face. "Well, I dunno, they’re kinda...” he trails off, a neatly structured, stoic expression on his face that makes you roll your eyes. “They’re cute!” “If you say so.” Your adorable little glare makes him want to egg you on, but he stays silent for now.

Wait— Adorable? Maybe he has a headache from your nagging or something; there is nothing to worry about now.

You study his expression unknowingly; your eyes just so happened to need something to latch onto. And he’s clearly got a nice view. better than the nails. The small scrunch of his eyebrows is obviously dedicated to something so simple that it almost concerns you. Even the way he holds your hands up is tender, contrasting with his slightly calloused hands. He has a beautiful face too, and you think you can see some muscles hidden under his coat.

Sculpted so gorgeously. Funny, for such a snarky man.

“How old are you?” You blurt out, looking up at him as he glances at you in confusion. “Why?” He asks softly, almost done with your second hand as you contemplate. “Just curious.” “Curiosity killed the” “but satisfaction brought it back.” You finish before he can fully say the little saying. A small smirk of victory forms on your lips when he gives you a look that just radiates sass.

“Twenty-seven.” He gruffed. Perfect. “How did you even become a doctor so young?" You question him, a look of surprise crossing your face as he shrugs. “A few golden opportunities.” “Wait, are you not going to ask me how old I am?” You’re so clueless, Alhaitham thinks. “I’m your doctor. You must really not have a brain.” And you scoff at his words, but yet another question pops into your head. “Anyways! Favorite color?” “Are you serious, right now?" “If you don’t answer, I will personally file a complaint." "Green."

You two eventually ended up having a long conversation, with you asking him questions and him answering reluctantly. But what made it so long was him turning it on you and asking a few questions that you gladly responded to. All the while, he held one of your hands, not ever thinking to let go and just studying the ring you still wear. What a bubbly woman you are.

Alhaitham nearly let a curse out to the man who wronged you when you mentioned him once. He doesn’t care much, but how can someone be so stupid?

Alhaitham looks at the time on his watch. Two-thirty. Zipping up his lunch box, he heads towards the elevator, making a small stop in the room full of medicines. He ignores the calls in his name from other doctors or nurses who simply want to know more about the quiet man. He hates spending his breaks around people. Sadly, this just so happens to be one of the times when he’d love to have his headphones.

But duty calls.

He taps the button to go to the ninth floor, where your room is. Today is your movie day. That just so happened to land on Friday, the thirteenth too. He swipes through his notes, finding the password to his Hulu subscription. He only bought that for the movie series you like to watch on the smart TV installed in your room. *’Scream’ was it? Today you two were watching the fifth one, and you somehow logged him out for the third time within a week. Ms. Candace said you were snooping through the account settings or something like that.

What a hassle you are!

He reaches the high floor after a few seconds, making his way to your room and memorizing the password that he surprisingly always forgets. But, when he opens the door, he’s greeted with the sight of you fast asleep. Something makes him dread the energy you’ll have later in the evening, but he’s mindful of your rest. Placing his bags on the table silently and taking off his coat, he put it on the hook of the door.

The silence within your room is nice, for once. Usually, only the tension of your attitude or sadness would lie in the silence of this room. But only your light snores and the small drag of a chair were heard. Alhaitham moves to sit in a corner, thinking about leaving and having an extended break or waiting for you until you wake. But he picks the latter, crossing his arms and legs, leaning back, and letting his eyes drift onto your figure.

His mind was maybe a bit more active than before. He doesn’t know why, but he finds himself thinking of you more often: your health, your many expressions, your cheeky smiles, the dumb stuff that comes out of your mouth, and your eyes. To him, eyes are the purest form of honesty. like how yours can look like saucers when you’re shocked or diamonds when you're happy. or a pit of sadness.

Sadness. Alhaitham would think your only source of sadness in life was that fiancé of yours. Well, ex by now. A man who caused you so much pain that you’ve decided to live and die with. How could you ever love again if you’re so committed like this? But Alhaitham won’t ask you such things, out of respect, of course. It’s not like he’ll be pondering over them in a few weeks.

He shakes off the weird thoughts, dozing off.

You woke up to the sight. ‘What a sight for sore eyes.’ You quote in your head. You almost want to wipe away your eyes with how fine that man looks. Despite how creepy it was to notice the doctor in the corner of your room, His head was leaned against the wall, and his body stilled like stone as he slept. And his arms—Oh his arms. His arms were practically bulging out the scrubs he wore, so muscular. You almost want to touch them. Well, at least you know he keeps up with his gym regimen. Good thing he’s sleeping; now you can admire him more.

“You must have a staring problem.”

Maybe not.

His voice was a bit raspy, laced with tiredness as his eyes fluttered open, straight to you. “Why didn’t you wake me?” You divert him. Eyes away from him with an obvious flustered expression on your face. Alhaitham’s lips tug into a tiny, knowing smile, humored. But he decides to play along and not tease you any longer. “I’m not going to interfere with a patient's sleep.” He sighs, standing tall and going to put back on his coat. He checks the time. 4 PM.

“Before you watch your movie full of blood, you need your dosage.” Alhaitham ignores your whine in response, picking up the wrapped syringe in his white bag. “Ugh, why do I have to do three a day anyway? I’m feeling well.” You huff, holding out your arm as he walks to you, closing your eyes in anticipation. “That’s exactly why.” He mutters, holding your arm gently. “Breathe.” He says it softly, feeling your fast heartbeat on your wrist. “I clearly am." "Well, calm down.”

You purse your lips, complying and taking some deep breaths. Once his thumb presses the familiar spot between your forearm and arm, you feel the prick in your skin. Then comes the tingly feeling of fluid entering your body. You shiver, unexpectedly clutching his hand as your chest tightens. Alhaitham watches in interest, allowing you to hold onto him until the pain passes. "Can we watch that movie now?" You mumble, making him give your hand a final squeeze before letting go.

He grabs the remote on the table, turns on the TV, and flicks through the streaming services. “Hmm, I’m not sure. I think you like looking at something else,” he offhandedly mentions, giving you a small jab at your earlier actions and glancing down at the little funny face you gave him. “Oh c’mon!”

“What? It was just an assumption."

“But! Ugh!”

“Again!” You groan before Alhaitham can even slot his red chip into the blue holder. You’ve lost maybe five or six games of Connect Four now, sitting at this stupid table with this stupid game for maybe an hour and a half. "No, I can do it." Alhaitham says this while sitting back into his chair with that signature cross of his legs. “And why is that?” “It’s getting late.” And you pout, laying your head on the table as he watches you.

Those little target-like eyes of his drill into you. Moreso, the purple veins that have formed on your neck over the past month The area is dark, and the veins are even darker. There were parts of your body that suffered from the disease; your health was deteriorating so badly that it made him sick. You’ve become slower, unable to even stay awake for longer than eight hours. He and Ms. Candace have been hovering over you with every last second of your life, with the knowledge that you could drop dead at any moment.

“Not a good look, huh?" You murmur, feeling awful under his watchful gaze. And Alhaitham’s cocks his head, not entertained by your words. “Did I say that?”

"It's on your face."

“You have poor judgment, then."

And your face scrunches up, looking at him with an annoyed look. “What else would you think, then?” Alhaitham bites his tongue. something he doesn’t do a lot. Well, not at all. It’s not like him to interfere with a patient's choice, but...

“I’d think that you should get that operation.” He sighs, not bothering to take his eyes off you as you turn your head away. “Doctor. You know I—“ “Are you seriously letting a man who isn’t here dictate how your life ends?” He scoffs, letting a tone of disbelief creep into his voice before realizing his own words. But Alhaitham doesn’t correct himself.

He was already correct.

"Okay, well, why do you care? And yes, I know you’re my doctor and everything, but, you don’t act like this." You give him a pointed look, sliding the lever of the blue grid and letting the coins fall into the bin. “I’m just saying. Anyone in their right mind would at least be honest with you about this.” Alhaitham shrugs, but the truth is that he truly could not stand to see you like this. So in his right mind, he did the least he could do.

It's not like you know his true feelings.

You ponder over his words, playing with the ring on your left hand. He was right. But perhaps you expected too much from that damned man, the man you fell in love with classically, high school sweethearts who swore to marry, and oh, how so close you were to that dream.

Not every story has a happy ending.

But who were you to let some shitty man write your story’s ending while he goes to some fucking island with his fucking bimbo?

An idiot is what you’d be.

“Sure.” You whisper, bringing your elbow up and laying your head on your hand. Alhaitham gives you a look of satisfaction, a knowing smile forming on his face as he stands up. “I knew you weren’t that dumb.” “You know nothing!” You scoff, your chest bubbling with excitement for your future as you get ready to put away the board game. But he pulls the grid towards him and says, "You won’t need this here. I’ll just take it home.” He says it casually, making you pause.

“But it was a gift to me? Why—" “Do you seriously not know how to take a hint?” What’s with this man always interrupting you? You scowl. Hint? What hint—"Oh, wait—are you like, inviting, me over or something?” And Alhaitham only makes a sound of agreement, dropping the chips in the bin into the box. “yea, and I won’t be your surgeon, obviously. But once the day of your appointment comes, you won’t see me around. Just talk to Ms. Candace after they release you."

Alhaitham cleans up as you tuck yourself into bed, playing the background show of your choice before leaving with a small click of the door.

You can’t believe it. You aren’t dying in three weeks. and you’re going on a date. Well, in a month, but still!

“Um, should I just call him? I don’t want you to trouble you any longer. You were dressed in a fine black dress that Candace willingly gave to you. Your body healed after the operation within a few weeks of rest and food. You hadn’t seen the doctor—well, Alhaitham—since the day before your appointment.

So basically, a long time.

But after getting released from the hospital, Candace took you in and helped you familiarize yourself with life. And she just so happened to tell a specific man that you made a full recovery. which his immediate reply was, for you to come over to his house for dinner.

It was about time for him to properly pursue you.

“Oh? You must be eager to see him. He’s just a little car ride away, but if you insist, Candace teases, her eyes glimmering in amusement as she hands you your phone. You look at yourself in the mirror again; it feels so refreshing to actually see yourself healthy, not scrawny and filled with scotches of purple on your skin.

You spent over an hour in the mirror, buttering yourself up with some light makeup of your choice and admiring yourself.

You take the phone from her hand, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you get to his contact. "There is no need to be nervous. I’m sure he’d swoon just from the sound of your voice.” She smiles, making you laugh, and clicks the call button. "Oh, please, he’s not that—

"You finally called."

You shiver at the sound of his voice. Who the hell answers the phone so quickly? “Sorry, but, uh, I was wondering if you could come pick me up." You aren’t sure how the tone of your voice got meek so quickly, but for some reason, it makes him chuckle. “*yea? I’m already on my way.” Maybe you were too sick to realize how hot his voice actually is, even just on the phone.

Candace notices how stiff you are, clearly flustered and shy. She leans to the phone and says, “What a gentleman you are! I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you! She might lose her head if you don’t hurry.” She sings, clicking the red button as you fall into her hug.

You two talk about some things you might be interested in doing in the future, like continuing your career and education in technology or finding a job soon so you can get out of her hair. It really feels nice, like you’re actually becoming something rather than being a little housewife with a fiancé who never took the time to love you.

You drift away from the conversation on cereal before milk when you hear a honk outside. Candace jumps up, holding your hand and guiding you to the door. “I feel like a mother,” she smiles, making you give her a grin. “You’re younger than me!” “But I’m wiser. Have a nice night, hun.” She opens the door for you, giving you the sight of a Black Cadillac parked beside her driveway.

You walked down the driveway nervously, clutching the sides of your dress with your purse in your other hand. Just as you reach the car, Alhaitham gets out, walking around to open your door but stopping you with a hand just barely ghosting your waist.

You two stare into each other's eyes, a light breeze blowing through the evening air as he looks you up and down. while you do the same. It felt like a blessing to be able to see his figure without those stupid scrubs. He wore a gray button-up with black slacks, simple but fitting. with some small amounts of jewelry that complement him well. Before you can even try your hand at being confident, he speaks before you: “You look decent." "I spent over two hours on this outfit! And you say, "Decent?"You huff playfully, the weight of your heart already dissipating when he gives an airy laugh, opening the door.

“Then I apologize..gorgeous." “That is so corny.” You jest, despite the increase in blood flowing to your cheeks. “I tried. But I was honest.” He sighs, almost disappointedly, but is careful of your legs before closing the door. Your mind races as you get comfortable in the car, noticing the light scent of cologne. How fancy.

At least it was better than those strong perfumes. like a dark, regal scent, but brisk.

“I was hoping to make you dinner, and then we can play another game I bought for you.” Alhaitham gets in, buckling up before giving Candace, who stood at her door, a small wave. “Yea?” “Yea.” You smile bashfully, your cheek bones betraying you as you hold your hand out. “I’d like that.” And Alhaitham returns your smile, examining your hand.

No ring. But he already has one in mind.

It’ll be silver.

He puts his hand in yours, interlocking it and squeezing firmly. “And I promise you’ll love it.”

Hopefully, you’ll love him too.

#genshin x female reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #gesnhin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #al haitam x reader #al haithem #alhaitham x female reader

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 3}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: With the overnight patrol behind you, it's now time for your annual leave from the roster altogether. But Joel doesn't know that and you're hesitant to tell him, feeling like it would be the best for you two to get some distance. But as with all things involving the man, it was hard to keep the distance.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, two (2} instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, talk of pregnancy, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, sexual content, masturbation (f and m), yearning, protective joel, tommy is a scheming lil brother and we love him for it, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: i'm not really back in wake of some bad comments and confrontational haters, but love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

A knock on your door the next morning caught you bundled up and out in the backyard, the sound echoing throughout your empty house. It was small: a simple one with a larger than average kitchen, a living room, one bathroom across the hall from the bedroom, and a laundry / mudroom with a deep utility sink and a few cabinets of storage. It’s where you kept the tools for the garden, where you washed and prepped everything you managed to grow before moving it into the kitchen space. But you were on the modest back porch, a cup of steaming coffee cooling in the early morning air as you looked out at the trees that took up a good chunk of the large area.

Dragging your eyes from the one that looked like it was about at the end of its life, a large crack running down through the trunk, you heeded the knock at the early hour. Knowing it could only be one of four people.

“Was worried I woke you for a moment, you sleep okay?” Maria greeted you as she waddled past you and moved into the kitchen. She spied the other cups worth of contents in the coffee maker and sighed in longing. The scent of it heavy in the air, mixed with cinnamon you were apt to put in with the grounds before brewing. But her sigh turned into a delighted hum as she shifted her attention to the cooling pan atop the stove and moved closer to inspect the baked goods settled on it.

“Probably not much better than you, momma. How you feelin’?” You slid a plate to her as she began to pick pieces off from one of the flaky breakfast hand pies you had made. She placed the one she had begun eating along with another before following you to the large table that ran through the middle of the room. Setting it down and pulling out the chair for her, you helped her to lower into it. With a caressing touch to her swollen belly, permission given from her months ago, you began to set up a kettle for some tea.

“Big.” She stuffed a large bite into her mouth, eyes fluttering at the taste of the filling. Crumbs of the flaky crust sticking to the front of her shirt, jacket having been shrugged off. “Olive, these are fantastic. Is there anything in here I shouldn’t be eating?”

“I wouldn’t have let ya get your hands on it if that were the case. Just bacon and onion jam, eggs, a little bit of milk, and a whole bunch of thyme. Nothing too bad.”

“Nothing too bad, my ass. You should totally make these for the mess hall on your next shift.”

Another knock on the front door stole the words from your mouth and you looked to the woman who all of a sudden had great interest in picking the crumbs from where they had fallen.

“Maria, what is this?”

“Can’t I call on a fellow morning bird without ulterior motives?”

“You could, but you didn’t this time around. I don’t get many visitors so I wonder who you- Oh! Good mor-morning, Joel.” Surprise overtook you as you were suddenly face to face with the man over the threshold of your front door. He was bundled up as well, though his hair was wet, slicked back and shining in the early morning sun peeking over the mountains.

“I just figured we could all chat about the Teton route.” Maria’s voice carried from the kitchen. But it didn’t break the stare you could feel as Joel’s eyes took in the apron you had thrown on earlier.

“Mornin’.” He rumbled, a hand reaching out from within his jacket pocket to swipe at your cheek. His touch burned, but you were frozen in place at such a forward action so early in the day. Lips parting as you tried to pull in a breath but you were sure all you managed to do was huff out what air was already in your lungs. “You got a lil flour or somethin’.”

“O-oh, um, thank you.” His hand lingered, the back of his knuckle dragged down your cheek and then the finger curled around the neckline, tugging slightly. Nerves sparkling as you felt the warmth from his hand so close to your neck, you could only swallow as his eyes finally met yours with a playful grin displaying that damned, endearing dimple normally hidden in his scruff.

“Never seen you so homey before, it’s a good look on you.” His voice was tipped low, just for you and you felt your stomach lurch.  When you didn’t say anything, just continued to stand there caught like a fly in his trap, he chuckled and asked if you were going to let him inside. It was then you realized he had inched closer, crowding you in the doorway, with his hand still around the strap of fabric over your neck.

“Oh! Of cour-course, I’m so sorry. It must be the early hour taking my manners.” But you knew he wouldn’t believe that for a second, he knew you were a morning person. Something you had revealed to him on patrol. Just like he had revealed to you that he took any opportunity to sleep in, apt to hit snooze an embarrassing about of times if the sound even reached him. You had both laughed at the polarizing tendencies, ribbing each other about it throughout the day. It had been a good one, free of the underlying…tension of whatever had shifted when you had pressed your lips to his injuries. Something you would take back if it meant cutting the undercurrent of whatever had befallen your interactions.

“There’s, um, breakfast hand pies and one last serving of coffee,” You spoke as you turned your back on him and went to retrieve your own mug from the porch.

After the shuffle of greetings, of ushering Joel to take a seat at the table. You plated up two of the hand pies and poured the last of the coffee for him, setting it down in front of him with a small smile before fetching the whistling kettle and preparing a cup of tea for Maria who was already a bite into her second pastry.

“Now, the horse you two lost.”

Joel made a surprised sound, mouth biting into one of the pastries on his plate.

“It was my fault.” You rushed out before Joel could even respond around his mouthful. His eyes flicked to you across the table where you had finally taken a seat, watching as you willingly took the blame for the unfortunate event. “I wasn’t quick enough taking down the Infected that were coming at us. Two of them had set their sights on her, with all the noise she was making while another went after Joel on the ground.”

“And there was no use of anything other than the shotgun?”

“That’s correct.”

“Joel, do you agree with her synopsis?”

“Yes. She acted fast, but there was no way Kiana was gonna make it back, she had been freaking out the second they came outta the tree line, most likely would’ve run off.”

“She always was easy to spook, that’s why she was designated as your horse, calmed her down and got her to focus.” It made sense, Joel was a very level headed person, capable of gently focusing someone should their minds or attention wander.

“I wish every incident discussion was this lovely. No arguing, good food, people who don’t want to go around in circles. You two are truly one of the best pairs we have on the roster.” Maria stirred in a bit more honey into her tea, taking a sip as she looked you both over.

A nervous laugh bubbled up from you as you dug into your own pastry, unaware of them sharing a look.

“This is amazing,” Joel offered, reaching for the kitchen towel folded atop the table to clean his hands off. “You should make these your next shift at the mess hall.”

“I just told her that, imagine the buzz they would cause.”

“They’re not all that special.” You muttered, shoulders rising as you felt rather put on the spot.

“This filling, these onions? It had to have taken a lot of concentration to reduce them down so soft but not mushy. Take the credit where it’s due.” Joel hummed his agreement as he reached for his mug.

“You’re off patrol this week and next, to do your annual thing.” Tommy announced as he sat beside you, his tray thudding against the top of the table, laden down with food from this mornings offerings.

“I can still patrol and get what I have to done.” You didn’t look up from the notebook you were writing in, trying to map out the way you were going to turn the harvest of the olive trees in your backyard into. If you were being honest, patrol twice a week wasn’t so bad with the added allure of Joel Miller. But it would be hard to juggle it paired with the time of year. Every autumn you took out your dirtiest, most ratty pair of overalls and got to work picking the fruit from the trees. Taking your time to sort them, wash them, turn them into oil and pickle some of the others. It was just you, hands aching at the end of the day from spending it all at your kitchen table with various tools. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The kitchen was your happy place. Even after the end of the world. Or maybe in spite of it.

But this year, you didn’t want to miss out on patrol, normally taking the two weeks off to sort everything out and give all your attention to the gift of fruiting trees. Even if…you felt like it would be good for you to get some space from the man you felt in every other thought. The past two weeks had yielded quiet patrols, just the passing of a thermos between hands. You were sure you had overstepped a line by pressing your lips to his face, lost in the moment of adrenaline and want after those Infected had tried to turn you both.

His eyes were heavy on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but searching for what you didn’t have the faintest clue. Perhaps he was thinking of a way to bring it up and let you down gently. Tell you that he hadn’t appreciated your affections that way. Whatever went on behind that handsome, rugged face you hadn’t a clue.

“We both know that’s a mighty lie,” He stuffed an overfull spoon of grits into his mouth, humming around it as he pointed the utensil at you. “Didn’t you say this would be the last year for one of them?”

Sighing, you set the pencil you had been writing with down. Trading it for the cup of coffee in front of you.

“Unfortunately, the trunk spilt when we had those winds come through in February. I’m surprised it bloomed any fruit to be honest.”

“It’s a fighter, like it’s caretaker.”

“Oh hush, tryna flatter me.”

“Don’t you know it.” He winked, cheeky smile growing wider underneath his mustache as his eyes caught sight of something over your shoulder. You were about to turn to see what had him so delighted when a pair of hands placed a tray right next to you. The burly form of Joel huffed as he settled into the seat beside you.

“Mornin’.” He greeted, placing plate of toast in front of you, his hand momentarily brushing against yours before he dug into his own food. You felt heat bloom up your neck and across your cheeks as Tommy feigned a cough to cover up a snicker. Joel leveled an unimpressed stare at the man, an eyebrow cocked and a warning in his eyes. You pretended not to see it, busy slathering a piece of the gifted toast with some butter left out on the tables for the breakfast service.

“Good mornin’, brother.” Tommy lilted, face lit up with something you were hesitant of. Scheming, the man was scheming, up to absolutely no good. And you had a hunch it involved not only you but the man beside you. Taking a bite of the toast, you noticed the way his face twitched before he started whatever he was up to. “How are you today?”

“Fuck off, Tommy.” The older man didn’t even look up from his plate, knowing from years of experience that his brother was aiming a mischievous look his way. “I gotta list a mile long of stuff to do this week and next, don’t have time for whatever else you’ve taken on.”

“That’s a shame,” He took another heaping bite, chewing it thoughtfully as he looked between you both, taking in the way neither of you were willing to look at the other. “Sorry, Olive. Looks like you’ve gotta fell that tree on your own.”

“That’s okay. I’m a big girl, did it the year before last and I’ll do it again this time around.” You downed the last two gulps of your coffee. Gathering up your notebook, you shoved out of your chair and stood, preparing to walk away. But he scrambled, quick on his feet and determined. Joel glanced at you, a parting nod the only indication from him.

“Well, seeing as you’ll be off patrol the next two weeks, that should give you enough time to take care of it.”

“Tommy!” You whirled around on your heel, eyes wide. You hadn’t wanted Joel find out this way, from his trouble making little brother with you right beside him.

“What’s he talkin’ about?” Joel turned with a loaded fork halfway to his mouth. Forgotten in wake of the sudden news. He looked taken off guard, shock coloring his features as he looked to you for answers.

“Didn’t she tell you, brother?” Tommy set his own fork down, tray nearly empty now. “Olive always takes this time of year off to tend to the trees. Harvest and make that lovely oil you see everywhere around town.”

“That’s yours?” His eyes danced around the mess hall, taking in the incriminating glass jars atop every other table. The light green contents revealing the literal fruits of your labor. The hours you would spend hunched over your own kitchen table working away on ensuring everything was perfect. He looked down to the warm plate of food in front of him, the roasted potato hash and scrambled eggs. “You’re the reason the town has cooking oil?”

“Yes, it is.” Feeling pleasure flutter at his impressed tone, you knew your voice had taken on a breathy quality. If Tommy’s growing grin was any indication, his teeth sparkling as he watched the two of you across from him. Joel had turned completely in his chair to face you, while you had pivoted your body in his direction. Both of you undoubtedly drawn to each other even in the most casual of ways.

“What are you gonna do with the wood? Didn’t you burn it and mix the ashes into the soil last time?”

“Yes, I did.” You gripped the notebook tight, fingers aching from the pressure. “It helped to reduce the acidity of the soil and ward off slugs from targeting the blooms once spring came around.”

“Well, uh, I can come by and lend a hand. If you needed it, but I don’t want to intrude if you’ve got it all under control.” Joel ran a wide palm over the back of his head, fingers brushing through the curls as he offered his help in a round about way. Something you suspected Tommy had anticipated. It took you a second to process his words, remembering the feel of his hair tangled around your own fingers. It had been soft despite a days’ worth of travel and an overnight stint atop a dusty mattress. You wondered how he cared for it, what it looked like slicked back fresh from the shower, water dripping from the ends of it and-

“Oh, that’s okay!” You shuffled on your feet, shaking the rather intrusive thoughts and not wanting to burden the man with another task. “You just said you’ve got a lot to do, don’t want to add to it.”

“I could shuffle a few things around, clear up an afternoon to come help ya out.” He insisted, something smoldering in his dark eyes. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he regarded you carefully, as if he had noticed the lingering gaze on his movement. He shifted to pull that damned little note pad of his own from his back pocket and flipped it open. Looking over the long list penciled on the page.

“No, no, it’s okay, really. You don’t have to do that, Joel.” You waved your own notebook at him, hoping he realized you kind of wanted the space from him. Kind of needed it, actually. To get the image of his softened face out of your head and the ability to look at him without feeling a jolt of desire strike through your body. Space would probably be good, would allow you to reign everything in and be better equipped to ride alongside him once again. The lines had begun to blur and they needed to be defined.

“It’s no problem, I can-“

“It’s really okay, I can handle it. But uh- th-thanks for the offer.” You scurried away before he could add your name to the list among his other tasks. “More important stuff to tend to than a me-measly tree.”

“I really don’t’-“

“I’ve got it.” You called over your shoulder, leaving the two men to their breakfast.

The second you were walking through the door, Joel rounded on the younger man. The shit-eating smirk was securely in place among his brother’s features across the table. Irking Joel further.

“Shut up.”

“Oh brother, you got it bad.”

“Shut up, Tommy.”

“C’mon, she could really use the help. It’s just her.”

“No one offers to pitch in? The other women with personal gardens all help each other out.”

“It’s the age gap. Olive’s about a decade or so younger than them.”

Joel contemplated his brother’s words, thinking back on the thinly veiled disdain Marsha had voiced to him the last time he had been tending to the woman’s home. He knew you were younger, but he hadn’t anticipated it causing any problems with the rest of the settlements occupants just how it wasn’t the cause of any between you and him. At least, not any real problems. Age was just a number nowadays, if you were alive, you were alive. If you weren’t well, you weren’t. Friendships and connections blooming between people regardless of age and backgrounds in abundance as people clung to what they could in order to survive.

“Does anybody ever…talk about her to you?”

Shifting from annoying little brother to something more serious, Tommy looked over his brother as he chewed the bite he had just taken.

“What do you mean?”

“Marsha seemed to insinuate that Olive is common topic of discussion.”

“Marsha doesn’t like Olive. Never has.” Tommy scowled, stabbing at a chunk of potato rather harshly.

“Does it have to do with the patrol you won’t tell me about?”

“…yeah.” Tommy was suddenly very interested in the rest of his food, ignoring the look he could feel Joel pinning him with from across the table.

“Tommy.”

“Her old patrol partner was someone she showed up with, when we first brought her here. He and Marsha’s daughter got on quickly, were engaged within a year and planning on havin’ a kid or two.”

Joel was silent as he picked at his food. Marsha’s daughter, Millie, didn’t have any kids or a husband that he knew of. The two women sharing a home close to his.

“They blame her for what happened.”

“What did happen?”

“Joel, you’ve gotta ask your girl that. It’s not my place to give details.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“But you want her to be, c’mon, I can see it plain as day.”

“We are not talking about this.”

“I think she likes you back. But it’s hard to tell since she doesn’t get a lot of interaction around town aside from when she’s trading or cookin’.”

“She don’t like me like that. We’re just…friendly.”

It wasn’t friendly the way Joel took advantage of any reason to touch you. From soothing minor injuries, to brushing his fingers over yours as he passed you something, to brushing things you tended to smear along your cheek. Just to hear the hitch of your breath and to witness the way your eyes widened. It wasn’t friendly the way you were the last thing he thought of at night and the first thing he thought of when he woke up. It wasn’t friendly the way his gaze lingered on you while out on patrol or when he caught sight of you around town.

It wasn’t friendly the way he spent hours in his workspace sketching out designs and carving into wood in the hopes that you would enjoy what he was creating.

It wasn’t friendly the way he didn’t engage with you for worry of making you nervous, like he noticed he had begun to do. Stuttering every other word around him and others in a habit he couldn’t figure out was his fault or something you were just prone to do. It wasn’t friendly how he wanted to see if it was just him that caused it, wanted to see how quickly words would fail you completely if he were to focus his attention on you in a more than friendly way…

But his brother didn’t know anything about that.

Never one to miss out on the chance for a slow morning, you allowed yourself to wake up naturally.

The sun was just beginning its descent from the highest point in the sky, peeking in through the drawn blinds of your bedroom.

Your body was warm underneath the covers, sleep making your mind take the sensation and let it influence your dreams.

A large body hovered over you, looming like the mountains around the settlement. Protective, a sight to behold at any time of day, as steady as the day turns to night. But the body was so much closer, pressing your back down into the mattress, making your head spin with the heady feel of it.

Thump, thump, thump.

Heart beating hard as pleasure coursed through your veins, brought to life by the feeling of fingers smoothing over your skin. Trailing down over your belly button and through course hair to find your slick folds. Delving between them, parting them, caressing over your fluttering core and then in, producing an obscene sound as they filled you up. Another set of fingers gentle nudging that little bundle of nerves to light your body up even further, heat encompassing you, suffocating you as they quickened their pace.

Thump, thump, thump.

Your heartbeat was harsh in your ears, roaring loud and with a jolt, you realized it wasn’t your heart. It was the sound of someone knocking on your front door.

Eyes flying open, the phantom sensations of being pinned down, of thick fingers caressing the most intimate parts of your body, of the rasped-out nickname in a voice that wasn’t real were ripped from you. You were alone in your bed, your hands the only ones bringing you pleasure.

“Olive?” The faint call of that deep voice your mind had tried to convince you was whispering sweet nothings in your ear was down the hall and on the other side of your front door.

What was Joel Miller doing calling on you in the middle of the day, effectively splashing a bucket of cold water over you as you realized you had been fantasizing about him as you touched yourself.

Embarrassment and guilt squashed the pleasure that had been consuming you, lingering tingles making it hard to clear the fog of your sleep hazed mind. Throwing on the robe hanging on the back of your bedroom door, you took a deep breath to steady yourself before approaching the door he knocked on again.

He must’ve been preparing to walk off when you swung your door open, his back to you and a hand on rubbing on the back of his neck. He turned back at the sound, eyes taking in the disheveled form you were sure you made in your doorway. It was the afternoon, and here you were in a robe and hardly anything else, being pulled from your bed.

“Oh, hey- you were sleeping.” His eyes quickly averted, a hand waving at you as a blush crept up along the apples of his cheeks. You wondered what had him so flustered, his hands clenching and unclenching just below the sleeves of his jacket.

“I should’ve been up already, it’s okay.” You said quietly, taking in the bulk of him on your small stoop. It was a little disorienting, mind imagining him and now being faced with him so close. “D-did you need-“

“Was coming by to see if you needed any help with taking down that tree Tommy mentioned.”

You fell silent at the way he cut you off, his words low like your own, as if he was frustrated.

“Cause if you did all you had to do was ask.”

“I-I didn’t want to add to your list, that little notepad is always so full of-“

“I offered too and you said no. But you’re not even doing what you took the time off for.”

“Excuse me?” You leaned back from him, worry and your own annoyance flaring. Just because you took one morning to yourself didn’t mean you were shirking your responsibilities. His words hitting too close to the wound that everyone else’s had dug close to your heart.

“You take the time off every year, which you didn’t tell me about. Tommy blurted it out to get some sort of satisfaction out of your miscommunication and you’re not even taking care of the trees.”

“Joel-“

“You know what, just, never mind. I’m heading around back to take care of it for you. Go back to bed.”

And then he was stomping down the steps and rounding the side of your house. The gate creaking open to signal his entrance to your backyard.

“Well, excuse the fuck outta me, Mr. Miller.” You mumbled as you shut the front door and moved back to the bedroom. Dressing in a ratty pair of jeans and a long-stained t-shirt in a rush. Putting up your hair as you walked into the back room to retrieve the axe he would need for the work he took it upon himself to do.

It was hard not to stare, your eyes glued to the man as he expertly wielded the axe and chopped down the damaged olive tree. He had shrugged off his flannel after trimming it of the few branches that stretched from the trunk, leaving him in just the t-shirt he donned underneath. A crisp white that displayed the sweat on the small of his back and between his broad shoulders. A crisp white that displayed the bulge of his biceps as he worked. A crisp white that fell just over his waist and billowed up to catch on the spiral top of his notepad peeking out from his back pocket. A crip white that now displayed his rather toned backside to you free from obstruction…

Shaking your head, you continued to pick the fruit from the others. There were three rows of about ten trees, the one you were worried about in the middle of it all. Your movements made you feel like you were slowly circling around him, honing in on the man taking out whatever frustrations he had on the plant. Until everything was gathered, and you retired back inside as the sun beat down what little warmth it still had this late in the season.

The fruit was already washed in the utility sink, resting in strainers set over ratty towels to dry atop the long table in the middle of the room. A record played in the living room, soft guitar and brass filling the space.

Sighing, you poured yourself a few fingers of whisky and then a few into a second glass as you heard the thud of the axe being set against the wall in the back room and steps heading your way.

“Joel, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t know how.” You offered one of the glasses to him, taking in the way he swiped at his sweating forehead with the back of his arm.

“I know…I’m-I shouldn’t have come at you like that. I’m sorry too.” His fingers brushed yours as he took the peace offering. But he didn’t drink until you lifted your own glass and clinked it to his. “Just…wanted there to be a reason why you weren’t by my side for a little bit.”

Stepping forward to run a hand down from his shoulder to elbow in a comforting move, you motioned him to follow you.

Through the hours of the afternoon and into the evening, you explained the difference between the colors of the fruit. The flavor profiles of each, of how you always sorted even portions of the harvest out for oil, for pickling, for the raw fruit to be shared with the town. You walked him through the process of turning a small batch into a paste, straining it over and over again to produce the oil. Two pairs of hands slick with it as he helped you after he had asked how you managed to do it.

He had asked of your knowledge, prompting you to admit that it was all learned since arriving here and being assigned to the house with the trees in the backyard. That it hadn’t been something you carried with you beforehand. You asked after his woodworking, how it had turned into crafting small figurines.

And he answered much the same as you. Learned skills to help deal with and adapt to the slower way of life Jackson allowed you both to lead.

“You left one on the table.” His voice was right behind you, having followed you into the backroom. You turned to look at him over your shoulder before going back to placing the jars in your hand into a battered plastic crate. One was for the pickled and general olives, while another was for the oil you would make once the distraction of Joel Miller was gone from your kitchen. The only evidence of such from today’s activities in his hand.

“Oh, that one’s for you.”

“I couldn’t, you need it for trade. Everythin’ helps.”

“I insist, it’ll be good to have in your kitchen.”

“It’s just gonna sit there on the counter beside the stove.”

“Well, take it. Just in case.” You whispered. Noticing how close he had gotten in an attempt to hand the jar to you. He was close enough to smell the way the olive leaves had permeated his clothing. The perfume of the freshly chopped wood stained his skin in a heady way. You felt the counter dig into your hips, having unconsciously backed into it beside the deep sink.

“In case of what, sweetheart?” He lowered his voice to a raspy whisper, tongue peeking between his lips as he took in the way you had a smudge of dirt under your eye in the warm light of your kitchen bleeding into the backroom. His gaze snapped to his hand as you bravely tangled your fingers with his own. Feeling your lips curl into a playful smile, you leaned up and whispered into his ear. 

“The food critic decides to play personal chef.”

Oh, he liked that. If the widening of his pupils was any indication, the way his breath caught in his throat and he swallowed as he pulled back a little to look over your face.

He leaned in to press a cautious kiss to your cheek, knowing there was no bruise or cut to disguise his move as anything other than the blatant want for it. The soft scratch of his mustache lighting you up.

Your breath fanned out across his face, skin prickling along his body at the warmth of it bouncing back to you. A small huff the only noise coming from you. His eyes flicked up to capture yours, and you felt your heart lurch. He was so handsome, his lips looked so plush and pink this close. There was no way he could’ve missed the way you had glanced down at them, how you were thinking of feeling them pressed to your skin in other places, of the way you pulled your own bottom one between your teeth at the thought.

He leaned in, sharing breath with you, his nose brushing against yours before-

The needle of the record player scratching across vinyl startled you both, jolting in response to the harsh noise breaking the bubble of tension surrounding you both. Your hands had flown up to grip his shoulders tight while his arms had wrapped around your back and pulled you to him. Heart thundering for a completely different reason now, you cast your eyes over his shoulder toward to the record player.

With nervous laughter you stepped away from the man and set about lifting it from the still spinning record. His eyes are on you as you replace the record with another, setting it up to play and then turning back around to him. Your heart still thumping in your chest as you watch him hold tight to the jar in his hand and dip his head to you in a departing bow.

He made sure it was well into the evening before enlisting Tommy’s help. The forlorn way you had looked at the pieces of the tree once it was no longer standing proud among the others had stirred an idea in his mind. He was going to take the thickest part of the trunk, because he wasn’t stealing it away. No. He was going to return it to you once he had cut it into slabs and let it dry. He was going to return it to you in the form of a cutting board, crafted from the beloved trees in your care and in honor of the namesake you’d adapted.

But it had to be perfect. He would practice on other planks and cuts of wood until he was able to craft one that would be good enough for you. Setting his mind and heart on the endeavor.

Once he was back home with the trunk set in room set up as his workspace, stepping out of the shower and collapsing into the bed, he let a lazy smile overtake him.

He may be tired, exhausted beyond his limits. But he wouldn’t have traded his afternoon with you for all the restful sleep in the world.

He couldn’t get the feeling of your lips against his skin out of his mind. The gentle pressure of them grazing over his injuries, the gentle pressure against the patch in his beard he had never been fond of until that moment.

“Fuck,” He groaned out, palm tight around his aching cock. He had woken up thinking of your lips on more of his body, trailing over his skin in sucking kisses, tongue laving at every inch. He had been leaking and hard, his hand around himself before he had even come to complete consciousness.

The very real image of you stood in your doorway clad in nothing but your robe, the way the swell of your breasts was visible with the way you must’ve thrown it on to answer his knocking. The way your eyes were cloudy, slowly clearing and your face slightly flushed, as if you had just been- he groaned deep from within his chest. It had looked like you had just been deep in the throes of pleasure, body overwhelmed with it and torn away by his calling on you. Hair mused and breath a little too quick, he wondered what you sounded like. Would you whimper softly or moan out loudly, would you be shy and cover your face with your arms or would you scramble for any purchase as it raced through your body, swelling up to consume you.

He pumped his hand slowly now, reveling in the feeling stirring low in his gut. The strikes of pleasure moving through him as he recalled the way you had felt against him as you both rode back on your horse.

The way your hip had felt in his hands as he had tried to steady himself. His mind taking the thought and running with it, the imagining the way he would grip you from behind. You down on your hands and knees, legs parted to make room for him to fit between them, thrust against you as deep as he could, your keening-

He choked on his own breath as the sheer force of his release hit him, sudden and overwhelming. Spurts of pearlescent cum coating his hand and dripping over his knuckles.

Euphoria filling him up with satisfaction, his body humming with it until the guilt slammed into him.

He just fucked his fist to the thought of you. His patrol partner. His…friend. The woman he couldn’t get out of his mind even if his life depended on it.

Catching his breath, he looked out the window across from his bed. Stars glittering at him through the curtains as if they know all the dirty things that had just run through his mind, sharing in his secrets.

The only small blessing of his complete lack of self-control and oversight is that he doesn’t have to ride alongside you today on patrol.

“I’ve got the first batch of the season,” You announced as you walked through the doors of the small makeshift market. It was right along the main street, a few fronts down from the mess hall and the Tipsy Bison.

“Oh, lovely!” The man at the back counter praised, clearing a space atop it for you to put down the delivery.

“Marsha.” You nodded toward her in greeting, uncomfortable with the way her eyes had followed you through the few aisles after letting the man go over the contents of the crate. Another nod to her daughter, standing right beside her with a small wicker basket full of root vegetables. “I’ve got a jar in there for you, with the garlic you managed to salvage from the garden.”

She didn’t say anything, looking for all the world like her voice had been stolen from her. A small nudge from her daughter jostled her and she seemed to find it.

“Thank you, Olive. That was…very sweet of you to think of me.”

“Of course, anything to be of help.”

“Yes, of course.” She repeated your words, trailing off as she noticed a figure across the street. Her eyes tracked their movement but when you turned to see what had caught her attention there was no one there. Suddenly she was speaking your actual name and it roused your nerves to life. “You…do so much for the town, I just wanted you to know that we all appreciate the time you take each year to handle the harvest.”

“O-oh, well, um, thank you, Marsha. That’s very k-kind of you to say.”

“Momma,” Millie whispered, taking ahold of the older woman’s arm. Something in her voice you couldn’t quite get a read on. Taking that as your queue to cut off the rather awkward interaction, you waved at them and began to head back up to the counter to collect the items you had requested in exchange for the crate of jars. Your ears were strained, trying to catch the hushed words the women shared behind your back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I realized how…unfairly we speak about her. Someone convinced me to apologize to her.”

“She doesn’t deserve apologies, she’s the reason-“

“Millie, we need to work on moving past that. It’s been five years now. We can all live alongside each other with the understanding of what happened.”

“No, momma, you may be ready to forgive her but I’m not. She got my Aiden and I’m not going to let her drag down Joel too.”

“He was the one who told me to be nicer to her, just trying to appease the lovely man.”

Any good feelings of a successful harvest and two weeks of working countless hours to jar, pickle, and transform the fruit from your trees vanished. The awkward yet positive sentiment from one of your more…complicated social connections going down with it at Millie’s angered words. You tried to muster up a smile for the man at the counter, taking the crate back from him with the trade items but you weren’t sure if you were able to. Not turning to look at the women, you exited the shop and made your way straight back home despite the list of errands in your pocket.

Of course Joel had caught wind of the way people spoke of you.

Heard it from Marsha herself, the source of all your troubles despite having done everything in your power to counteract the bad you had brought down on the town with your incompetence. He had put his own reputation at stake by sticking up for you and you only hoped it didn’t affect the way he was received. He was so important to the town, achieving far more than you in what he provided and brought in his skill set.

You didn’t want him to feel even a fraction of what you did as you navigated life here in the settlement. The pitying looks cast your way, the whispered words of what people felt entitled enough to voice, the way you seemed to only be good for one thing and it was the crop in the backyard of the house you had been assigned by pure circumstance.

The crate thudded atop the table where you thrust it harshly, frustration controlling your movements as you moved through the small house back to your room. Shucking off and resisting the urge to hurl your boots toward the closet you sighed as you felt tears prickle your eyes. They rolled hot down your cheeks as you curled up in the covers and gave up on what was supposed to be a good day.

previous chapter || next chapter

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

taglist: @merz-8 @morning-star-joy @joelsgreys @orcasoul @sawymredfox @sabmat @dreamingofleon @keylimebeag @pascalpvnk @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @idontknowyou-12345 @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @fluff-lover @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom@communism-bitches @formulafun @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc

#dev writes #fic: by the grit of sandpaper #tlou #tlou fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #jackson! joel miller #joel miller series #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #angst #pining #carpenter joel miller #artisan joel miller #woodworker joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #ao3 #archive of our own #soft joel miller

[tired-biscuit]

I know you haven't written a lot for Spiderverse at all, but I have to say I love your portrayal of Miguel! And your little drabble about being Kiba's service-sub housewife got me thinking, do you think Miguel would like a service-sub housewife, too? I know you're mostly a Naruto blog but I can't help finding myself loving the few Miguel pieces you've done, your writing is incredible 💜

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: free use, somnophilia, cockwarming. established relationship.

↳ thanks a bunch, your message was so sweet! definitely made me smile really big. here’s some husband miguel rocking both your world and your pussy.

i think he would, though you’d definitely have to be the one to suggest it first.

while i do see miguel as a naturally dominant sort of man who loves staying in control in just about every aspect, he also comes across as very reserved and is thus rarely willing to let himself completely loose; even in bed. so it’d take some time for him to get used to the fact that you’d be literally offering yourself to him and would be giving him a free pass whenever he’d as much as think of desiring it.

he just seem to be very respectful towards the people he admires and loves, you know? he thinks that fucking you hard and quick in random places just because his blood runs hot all of a sudden is beneath what you deserve.

he’s gloomy and dark, and you’re pure light in his eyes because his heart has switched places with his brain ever since he’s fallen in love and has placed that ring on your finger. he doesn’t want to blemish all your purity and goodness, even if that wouldn’t be the case at all.

so even if you’d initiate it first and would get him going with the help of some lovey-dovey looks, the fluttering of your eyelashes, and some strokes to his broad chest and shoulders, he’d second guess the entire thing and would constantly be making sure if it really is all right like you say it is.

you’d literally have to be throwing yourself at him, telling him to just use you already, for him to actually do something. it’d go slow, but eventually he’d ease himself into the idea.

you can be very tempting when you want to be, and at the end of the day, he is nothing but a man.

the first time it happens, he’s working late for the fourth day in a row and is feeling terribly lonely and frustrated because of it. he misses you in more ways than one and you’re always asleep when he comes home, so he warily makes the decision to fuck you in his lab one night when you swing by to bring him dinner — knowing him, he hasn’t eaten since he left the house this morning — and bends you over at the middle on the first flat surface he sees.

the sex is cautious and he’s stiff as a board during the entirety of it; you can literally tell that he’s way too deep in his head about it and is calculating every single movement. he watches you like a hawk from the moment his big, calloused hands slip underneath your light sundress and hike it up to your waist.

he’s practically waiting to hear you say stop — even when he carefully pushes your panties to the side and sinks balls deep into your cunt with a little help of some spit and a couple of strokes to your clit. even as lewd, wet sounds resonate throughout the room, then, and mix with your panting and his grunts. he waits.

but you never say the word.

that’s the whole point of it, after all.

instead, your palms slam flat against the desk he’s got you bending over at. your toes wiggle in your shoes as you find better footing when he really starts to get into it and turns rough as a result. your hips press closer to his own and your back arches ever so slightly, allowing you to take his fat cock even deeper. you ready yourself; ready yourself to please your husband like the good little wife that you are.

after that night, miguel allows himself to take a little more from you each time.

he still comes home late on most days, but he uses the chance to catch up by gently and almost hesitantly nudging your tight hole with his cock while you’re still asleep; until your pussy is literally drooling and you’re waking up in your bed feeling all hot and sweaty because of how tight, borderline suffocating his embrace has become, and how intense the stretch that you feel between your legs is getting.

sometimes he comes to see you after a successful mission and fucks you against the wall of the first secluded spot he can find. he’s still covered in grime and sweat, there’s piping hot adrenaline still coursing his veins, and his hair is as wild as the look in his dark eyes — now where the hell has his mask gone? — but he doesn’t care about any of that.

because goddamn, your legs are wrapped around his waist and you’re doing that cute ‘o’ face that he likes oh, so fucking much as you struggle to breathe properly, and your pussy is just so tight whenever he bullies his way inside of you so unexpectedly like this. he can literally feel it squeezing around him, trying to milk him dry of very last drop of cum he’s able to produce.

other times, usually when he takes it a bit easy work-wise, he just rests at home by making you cockwarm him. he’s watching TV — something exceptionally boring, probably — or is looking something up on the computer, and you’re just sitting on his lap, whining about how his cock has been outright kissing your cervix from the second he saw you passing by dressed in nothing else but his t-shirt.

he even nips at your neck whenever you try to move, deadly fangs sliding across the tender skin. it just makes you even more wet; it’s just so good.

so yeah, i do think that he’d like the idea of free use and would even grow fond of it the more you’d both indulge it. it’d be some sort of stress relief in a way. also, he would never, never belittle you or shame you for it. you’re the perfect wife.

when he loves, he just truly loves, you know? it’s deep and unshakeable. every time he ‘uses’ you, he makes sure to make up for it afterwards. he’s just that kind of guy, even if he may not look like it at first glance.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #atsv smut #biscuit drabbles #cw free use #cw somnophilia

[m1d-45]

any chance of a part 2 of opportunities arisen? perhaps tighnari finds out who we are? or someone else comes after us? 👉👈 i love him sm and ur characterization of him is perfect, that fic is 100% canon in my mind for every imposter au now

prime fortune

a/n: hope this one didn’t absolutely destroy your expectations anon. it took a hard left turn halfway through and i couldn’t bring it back—

word count: 3.1k oh wow-

-> warnings: minor spoilers for sumeru archon quest (3.0-3.2), dubious medical facts that you should not follow, likely ooc cyno, excessive use of the word ‘something’ with little reasoning to show for it, cyno’s excellent humor

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie

<< part 1 || < masterlist >

adapting to life in the forest was easier said than done.

you’re often paired with collei, who’s in the middle of a bad eleazar flare that keeps her confined to the village, and though she teaches you the different salves and plants, a lot of it goes over your head.

you’re interested, you are! the liveliness with which she speaks, and the animated gestures from tighnari as he explains proper safety when preparing medicine easily capture your attention, but when she hands you two mushrooms and asks her to tell you which one is morchella….

by some strange luck, you often guess correctly, your intuition knowing more than you do, but when she nods with a smile and asks you to repeat the differences…

your mind falls blank.

something about the density of the fibers inside the mushroom floats through your mind, but you can’t remember whether the true or false mushroom is heavier.

collei’s smile falters, and yours turns sheepish. when she takes you out on walks, slowly walking up the paths so you don’t strain your ankle, you can point at the differences between portobello and death caps, you can pick out holly and honeysuckle and marigold, but here…

you pass the field practice with flying colors, but your basic by-the-books forest ranger tests always end in failure.

tighnari picks out two plants from a small case, holding them up in front of you.

“you come across amir sitting just off the side of a path, clutching his stomach. after some questioning, you determine he has a stomach cramp from dehydration, and spot these two plants nearby. you’re about a 15 minute walk from the village; what do you do?”

one of the plants has many flat white flowers blooming from the top, with yellow centers, while the other has orange petals that form a ball shape on top. you know one of them is yarrow, but not which one…

you pick the latter on a whim, spinning it between two fingers as you think. “pick the petals and crush them into a paste, taking care not to overwork them. give him about a spoonful, which should be most of it, then help him up. report to shirin once we return.”

the blank mask on his face falls into confusion. “how do you even mix up marigold and yarrow?” he asks, picking the flower—marigold, you now recognize—from your hand. “you got the procedure correct, at least, but marigold is bitter and will only worsen his aches. oh, and additionally, the leaves of yarrow—however small they-“

the door to the cottage slams open, jars rattling on their shelves, and tighnari whips around to face whoever it is, one hand steadying a stack of reports.

“and just what do you think you’re- w- collei? is everything alright?”

collei’s violet eyes were wide, her shoulders heaving with breath, when she spoke, exhaustion was evident. “m-master tighnari! the matra are here on behalf of the akademiya! i tried to tell them to wait so i could get you but they just-..”

emotions flashed over tighnari’s face faster than you could catch, eventually setting on a sharp determination. “alright collei, calm down. go find amir and do your best to delay them, but don’t seem too suspiscious, okay? just remember what we planned, i’ll take care of things here.”

her eyes flicked to you, worry evident, but she quickly turned away.

the moment the door closed, you and tighnari sprung into action. he collected the plants from your test and tucked them into their proper places, you standing to help return a mint plant back to its place.

he caught your wrist, taking the pot. “don’t. take your bag and go, don’t worry about this.”

you hesitate for longer than you should, then nod. he lets you go and returns to his case, and you move to crouch by the bed. feeling under it, your hand eventually brushes against a cloth handle, which you grab. you take a step to unlatch the window with one hand and sling the pack over your shoulder with the other, leaving with your good leg first. as you carefully close the window behind you, you can see tighnari moving to hide all the notes you’d taken, the only sign of his worry being his tail lashing behind him and the slightest flick of his ears.

with a soft smile, you turn away.

tighnari checked over his room once more, ensuring that every trace of your presence was scrubbed clean. your laundry was out and mixed with the rest of the rangers’, but your notes and records were carefully hidden under patrol logs and his own personal binders. he knew everything was tucked away, he had explanations lined up and answers to every conceivable question the akademiya could have, but his heart still beat frantically against his ribs. even as he pulled apart and neatened up a stack of patrol logs, repeating the action to look like he was doing something whenever the matra came to his hut, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he missed something crucial.

he had to fight to keep his tail from betraying his emotions, the energy not going into mussing up and then fixing the papers spent on hiding the symptoms of his distress. he knew he didn’t miss anything. the moment you told them the sages were on active lookout for you and he knew you weren’t a threat, he had memorized the plan. he was foolish to worry.

he hasn’t known you for long, barely over half a year, yet his mind is clouded with the same worry as when collei collapses out on patrol. the same numbing sort of adrenaline, the icy feeling in his bones even as his skin starts to burn up, the apprehension in every movement, as if at any moment-

somebody knocks on the door.

tighnari takes a steadying breath and fusses with the papers a final time. “come in!”

the door creaks open and he taps the papers on the table, turning slightly to speak over his shoulder. “sorry, you caught me in the middle of something.”

“no matter,” a familiar voice says, and he can’t stop the way his body freezes at the speaker.

he carefully tucked the papers into a folder, finally turning around. “general mahamatra. to what do i owe the honor?”

cyno crossed his arms, red eyes surveying the room. “oh, nothing at all. just somebody from vimara village reporting somebody that looked suspiciously like the primo fortuna walking around with collei when they’re supposed to be in liyue.”

tighnari stares. the primo fortuna…? he thought they were after you, but you couldn’t be…

“are… are you suggesting somebody is attempting to imitate the creator?”

sure, he wouldn’t deny you shared some features—you had the same shape of nose, you were around the same height and build—but for you to be the creator? no, it wasn’t possible. your eyes were much kinder, you stopped and helped nasrin when she couldn’t find the proper forms, you directed shirin to the area of the forest where you and collei found nilotpala lotuses, you were nothing like the creator he saw at pardis dhyai. you didn’t stare with glazed eyes as padisarahs and sumeru roses were brought forth, you listened in earnest when he spoke about the differences between the various kinds of ferns.

if anybody were to meet you, they’d know in an instant you were not the creator.

his heart itched within his chest. he ignored it as worry.

“that’s exactly what i’m implying. as i’m certain you know, their identity is hallowed, and anybody attempting to infringe upon it needs to meet justice.” the golden eye on his headpiece flashed, the sides beginning to narrow into eyes before he shook his head and it passed. “but in truth, that is not why i am here.”

tighnari stared. despite having a fondness for jokes, cyno was never one to laugh about his duties. “what do you mean? collei told me you were here on behalf of the akademiya.”

“the matra are here on behalf of the sages,” he clarified. “i… i am here for other reasons. personal ones.”

his eyes flicked around the room again, and tighnari’s narrowed. “well, don’t hide behind double meanings, then. what is it?”

cyno’s jaw flexed as he chewed at nothing, his arms uncrossing. his eyes focused somewhere around the bed, and he seemed lost in thought. whatever it was, it had to be a big deal, but for him to hijack the matra’s arrival instead of coming on his own time…

“the one on the throne is not our god.”

he said it with such conviction that tighnari found himself agreeing, waiting for whatever had gotten him worked up, and it was only when cyno’s eyes closed as he braced himself that it registered what he said.

“what?”

“i have gathered evidence across many sources, both academic and religious, common and exclusive, and i can’t bring myself to kneel at their feet any longer. i have been ignoring my own mind for too long for the sake of my conscience, and i am confiding in you now what has been brewing in my mind for months.”

in the silence that stretched, tighnari almost wished he hadn’t spoken.

the way he spoke, from his words to his tone, reminded tighnari of when he reported to the sages, like he wasn’t tighnari to him and was instead an authority.

“cyno, i don’t.. is this why you didn’t go when they were at pardis dhyai or sumeru city?”

he nodded. “i can’t be in a place where they’re being worshipped when i’m so conflicted. i thought about pulling you aside in the city, but…”

tighnari didn’t think he’d ever seen cyno so meek in his words, none of his normal power behind it. he’s… tired, a quality he knows he’s felt but has never seen on him, the almost nervous way he keeps glancing around the room edging on alarming.

“alright.. uh, moving past that for a moment, what does that have to do with why you’re in gandharva ville? wouldn’t you want to not be involved?”

cyno’s eyes dragged from where they were locked behind him with uncharacteristic slowness. “the person you’re hiding may be the real creator.”

the simplicity to his words had tighnari believing it, even as it didn’t fully register in his mind. he knew cyno attached a religious aspect to his work, to the point the people in sumeru city sometimes calling him an extension of their judgement—even as it was more like the akademiya’s, most time—so he knew that whatever he said on the topic was both well thought out and reliable.

which is why he was silent even after it clicked.

“what are you saying, cyno?”

“they’ve been staying here, haven’t they? in this room?”

“this is my and collei’s-“

“don’t tell me you haven’t been able to feel the difference in the air? the way it seems to flow slowly, lingering, like it has something to wait for? there’s no heavy blankets on the bed, and yet everybody else is talking of how cold the weather’s been lately.”

“that’s because this is an insulated room, and we’re right up against a cliff.”

the quick pace to his heart was back, this time less of worry and more of confusion. you couldn’t be the creator, not when you bore so little resemblance to the one on the throne. you were good at what you did, plants thriving under your care even if you forget to water them. call him selfish, but tighnari almost wished the creator could go back to wherever they’d been, since they’d been much kinder there, both to their vessels and the world.

you weren’t them. they weren’t even close to being you.

“you’re considering it.”

he crossed his arms, forcing himself to still. “i’ll admit—not that you didn’t already know it—that we have taken a refugee into the village, one the sages might call a criminal-“

“that’s not what i mean, tighnari, and you know it.”

“can you give me a minute? you can’t just drop a massive load of information on me like that and expect me to continue like it didn’t happen!”

“you’re reacting oddly.”

“well of course i am, you’re telling me the same person i took in and sheltered from your bosses is somebody you want to take away back to them, and that’s not even covering their injuries- they’ve barely been able to walk outside of the village, and you want to take them to the city?”

“when did i say anything about the sages?”

tighnari stopped, his chest heaving. his hands froze mid-air, his tail still flicking in a mix of irritation and stress, thoughts moving quicker than he could understand them.

“what?”

“i never said anything about the sages. i never said i would take them.”

“w- well it’s implied, if not in your words then-“

“i don’t deal in implications. you know this.”

he did.

he knew cyno. he knew how he spoke and acted, he knew that the small emotion in his eyes was indicative of empathy and not ruthless justice. he knew he held reasoning in high standards, he knew that if he stopped and thought about the words coming from his mouth then he would agree.

but he couldn’t think.

all of his usual composure had faltered and faded, leaving him grasping for a hold as his thoughts swam like a raging river around him, even standing a struggle amidst the tide. all he could do was watch, his head racing and hands shaking, as cyno stood on the bank of rationality, with his crossed arms and cool eyes that dared him to step forward and sink beneath the waves.

he had no real reason to fear so much for you. by now you were gone, by now you were safe and far past the statue of the seven by the chasm, hidden in a place where even cyno would struggle to find you. you were crafty, clever, and you had more than enough supplies to last until he could go to find you.

he had no reason to be afraid.

yet his heart still raced a rhythm he couldn’t follow, his mind tripping and skipping with worry.

why?

his tail wrapped around his side and he picked out a cluster of petals from it, mostly just to give his hands something to do.

as he did, he noticed it was a full flower, likely knocked off one of the samples on the desk. it was small, blue, with smooth petals, and he recognized it after a moment’s pause.

“this is a hydrangea. what is it used for?”

the flower quivered in your shaking hands. “root and stem are for… for medicine. petals are tea.”

collei nodded, smiling brightly. “exactly! you’re a quick learner, aren’t you?”

you smiled sheepishly, trying to hand her back the flower, but collei held up a hand, closing her pack with her other hand.

“no, you keep it. take it as a congratulations for all your progress!”

you were hesitant to accept it, that much was clear, and tighnari tied off the small parcel in his hands before speaking.

“you really have done well. you’ve only been here for a few weeks, but you’ve learned a lot.” he set down the packed herbs beside where he was leaning on the table, directing all of his attention to you. “i know it’s mostly for safety, and you’re not going to be a ranger-“ too much paperwork was required, he couldn’t risk it “-but still. i’m proud of you.”

you smiled.

it likely wasn’t the same flower—that ‘class’ was months ago, now—but it dragged a realization to the surface of his mind.

in the short, fleeting time he’d known you, he had come to care for you as he did collei.

even then, only after a week or two of you being there, a certain fondness had taken root in his chest. something bright, something that bloomed like a rose yet without any of the thorns. something that he watered every time you winced when you walked, something you fostered when you helped treat collei’s eleazar when he was out clearing a withering zone.

something that grew as he realized the poultice you had made had helped clear the pain faster than anything he’d made, even as you both used the same recipe, something that lashed out when kamran questioned your place in the village. something that spurred him to action when he thought you were in trouble, even if it was only cyno.

something that burned bright, something hot that blurred his reasoning even when he knew it was wrong, something that made him want to bare his teeth and keep you safe by his side.

something that should be impossible for him to feel towards you, as it was a golden and warm feeling that did not exist in teyvat, only ever glimpsed at altars.

tighnari looked up from the flower and into cyno’s knowing eyes.

“alright.”

relief washed onto his face, a small nod the only other sign that he’d heard.

“i’ll report nothing to the team—i trust you’ve gone over this, given your reaction?”

he let the comment slide. “yes, everybody here knows what to do in the case of the akademiya or the millelith coming here. it was collei’s idea, actually, and she took care to make sure that everybody had it memorized.”

cyno nodded, taking a step towards the door. “good. and if you ever need to collei matra, just get me instead.”

“…”

“do you get-?”

“i got it, cyno.”

#this is not the norm but i am having Thoughts[TM] about cyno so…. here #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin #genshin impact #self aware genshin #sagau impostor au #genshin imposter au #tighnari #tighnari x reader #sure why not #sagau tighnari #collei #sagau collei #cyno #sagau cyno #to anybody that’s wondering: a hydrangea symbolizes family/familial love. so. there’s that for all you tag readers #‘primo fortuna’ is just prime fortune—probably the title of this piece; depends—and has been bouncing in my head for a while #while i believe cyno would swing more for ‘prime /justice/‘… i didn’t think of that and this sounded cooler #actually cyno might fuck with the ‘first law’ title. ‘divine balance’ -> ref egypt mythos: anubis weighed hearts on a scale. #may or may not do a thing touching on preferred titles of the vessels bc this got me thinkin #this piece reminds me of that clip where it’s like ‘she’s doing girlboss shit!! all in the name of allah of course’ #dunno why. it does though. #me pointing at cyno and tighnari: #‘they are gatekeeping; they are slayqueening; they are doing all of this in the name of allah of course; #but! they are doing girlboss shit!’

[novthewolf]

Two’s company, three’s a family - Part seven

Summary : As a cupid, an angel of love, your mission was to make sure everyone was paired up with the right person. Yet you couldn’t get your two most ancient clients to finally end up together. And despite the 6,000 years spent on the case, you couldn’t bring yourself to give them up, oblivious to the reason…

Pairing : Aziraphale x Crowley / GN!Reader x Crowley / GN!Reader x Aziraphale (polyamorous relationship).

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Masterlist : Here

Warnings : long, too long (someone stop me), animal corpse, implied child death, crucifixion, depiction of h0rnisness, mention of s3x, s3xual undertone, alcool, violence, blood, use of french, angst, nazis, anxiety panic, slow burn, english isn’t my first language.

Words : +19,3k (seriously, stop me)

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Love ? Have you ever really felt Love ?

3004 B.C., Mesopotamia

It might be a strange thing to say, but right now you are actually learning how to walk. Oh, you knew the basics, but you never tried to practice on real soil. It felt weird on your feet, gritty and dry; it kept scratching the skin. A mix of tickles and quite pleasant itches. The reason you decided to come down was not to experiment with new sensations but to actually see why you had to bind specific animals together.

You would have asked the other cupids assigned to the mission if they knew anything, but only the principalities were aware of the actual goal. So, as curiosity overtook you, you made your way to the open land once you reached the limits of the forest. You were taken aback by the seemingly huge boat sitting on the hilltop. There were a lot of people, nicely looking at the strange scene behind some wooden fences.

Your eyes followed the multiple coupled animals, and you smiled, recognising the ones you created. Apparently, humans were leading them to that structure, leaving you more confused than ever. Slowly, you ambled to join the crowd and catch glimpses of conversation to try and understand what was actually going on. You ended up resting your arms on the wood and lifting your feet off the ground to relieve the pressure. When you jumped on your other foot, you bumped your right elbow against someone else's left side.

"Ah, sorry! I didn't see you here." You hurried, turning around to meet the unfortunate human.

"Oh, it's really nothing." The person was reassured. You gulped when you recognised him. It was the guardian angel of the Eastern Gate who stopped you from reaching said gate in the Garden of Eden. "Did you hurt your foot? My, you certainly will without any shoes on." He rambled in a worried tone. You started to worry as well. Did you just permanently damage your ride? By ride, you meant your physical body.

"No, no! I'm fine." You backed out slightly when he reached down for your leg. "I'm an angel too. My feet aren't hurt, I hope, and I never heard of... shoes? Anyway, please don't mind me." You dismissed me, looking for a way out.

He didn't seem surprised that you were an angel too. But your shattered heart missed a beat. You didn't mean to confess that. Does he remember your status? If he is aware, is he informed enough about your kind? No walking on earth, no feelings, no meddling in other angels' business. But instead of accusing you of not obeying your superior, he just nodded and actually miracled you some'shoes'. It was a really sweet gesture; you didn't know how to react. You simply muttered a small and bashful thank you and watched him kneel down in front of you.

You squinted your eyes, distruting the gentle way he took your scratched foot and helped you slide it inside the unfamiliar fabric. Once you were equipped, you trampled on the soil, laughing incredulously. It didn't hurt anymore !

"Thank you !" You exclaimed, giddy. And you were grateful to find that your overexcitement didn't faze him; he smiled brightly and joined his hands.

"Oh, there is no problem at all !" He laughed in a breath. Seeing that he seemed open-minded, you yearned to ask him the questions that burned your lips. However, someone interrupted you.

"Hello Aziraphale." A demon greeted him, his yellow snake eyes fixed on the guardian angel's face. He took place on Aziraphale's right side. You audibly gasped out of fear and embarrassment. Those two were the ones you linked back in the garden ! Plus, having a demon so close was still overwhelming.

"Crawley..." Aziraphale smiled nervously, his eyes going back and forth between you and the demon. That was when the redhead spotted you and tilted his head to the side to see you better.

"Hello there." He grinned with all his teeth. Intimitated, you simply hummed as a hello. Crawley then turned to Aziraphale. "So giving the mortals a flaming sword, how did that work out for you ?" He teased.

"You gave your sword away ?" You blurred out.

The angel huffed, flustered, and took some time to figure out what to say next. "There were really dangerous creatures out of the garden; they needed some protection." He rambled your way, then turned to the demon. "And the Almighty has never actually mentioned it again."

Crawley shrugged. "Probably a good thing... What's all this about ?" He gestured at the whole commotion. You nodded in agreement.

"Did they have a sudden urge to build a floating zoo ? Is it a common occurrence for humans ?" You wondered, truly curious.

"Well, they do have particular little quirks, but I never saw it come to that extent." The demon trailed, not meeting your eyes.

"From what I hear, God's a bit techy. Wiping out the human race. Big storm." Aziraphale gestured, and you smelled moonflower and moss, which you learned to recognise as sadness, even if he didn't show it. While Crawley's scent made you crunch your nose, you turned to him and watched his expression swing from outrage to disbelief.

"All of them ?"

"Just the locals." He nodded with tight lips. "I don't believe the Almighty's upset with the Chinese. Or the Native Americans. Or the Australians."

"What about the animals ?" You asked deeply, worried as you grasped his white sleeve. There was limited contact between you and animals, but every time you spent time with them, you felt a strong pull towards them, and you couldn't help but coo and coddle them.

"Oh no, God's not actually going to wipe out every creature." He flinched at your touch and was slowly pulling away. Despite your need for reassurance, you knew none of your fellow angels liked to touch you, so you let go. You felt the demon's eyes on you.

"You see Noah up there ?" He pointed towards the hill, and both of you looked up. "His family, his sons, their wives, and every couple of animals they brought in, they're all going to be fine."

"But they are drowning everybody else." He sneered, truly peeved. Aziraphale couldn't even answer and rather preferred to nod in agreement with sealed lips. Goats bleated in the background, catching your attention, and you turned around. Kids came running along them, blissfully playing and laughing. You shuddered.

"Not the kids. You can't kill kids." Crawley argued. He felt more disgusted by it than he showed, and you tilted your head to get a better look at him. You didn't expect him to care. Aziraphale hummed, darting his eyes away. Your heart sank, and you gulped.

"Well, that's more the kind of thing you'd expect my lot to do."

Yeah, so why isn't that the case?

As if he sensed your doubt, the angel spoke up again. "Yes, but when it's done, the Almighty's going to put up a new thing called a 'rain bow'" He offered with a smile, but all he could muster was a brow raise. "As a promise not to drown everyone again."

You couldn't help but let out a mix of scoff and a grunt. Crawley shared your distaste for the whole idea and mocked it. "How kind."

"You can't judge the Almighty, Crawley. And mh..." He stopped and turned to you inquisitively. He wanted to know your name. The last time you heard out loud was when... You wanted to slap yourself. Come on, you couldn’t be afraid of your own name, now can you ?

"Y/N." You smiled; you were actually happy to introduce yourself. Aziraphale was very nice, and even if he didn't know who you were or what you were, he was treating you with kindness and respect. You weren't sure if you were happy to know that a demon had learned your name. Oh god, what if he told him ?

"Don't fret; I'm sure God got all of this figured out. God's plans are simply:

"Are you going to say 'ineffable'"? Aw, they end each other's sentences. You almost forgot they were bonded. You smiled at the thought before remembering that you were the cause of it and how forbidden it was. You looked slightly red as you rubbed the back of your neck.

And when you thought you couldn't be more flustered, you felt Crawley skip behind you, brush his body against yours, and settle by your side. You were now as red as whatever was the reddest on Earth, and you completely froze up too. He then proceeded to burst your ears by yelling.

"Oi, Shem ! That's unicorn's going to make a run for it." A unicorn was indeed running away from the gathering towards the forest, and you were deeply alert, as you were the one responsible for its bounds. "Oh, it's too late. It's too late !" Crawley howled again.

Tired of his loud voice, you decided to leave and run after the poor creature. "Thank you for everything! Mmh.." You rushed before turning around, not sure how to respond in a non-monotone voice. "Bye bye! Smooches !" Smooches ? Really ?

You heard the angel echoe "smooches ?" as you sprinted away. Even with shoes on, you had terrible coordination and fell a few times before entering the forest, while seemingly hallucinating hearing Aziraphale's voice call you in the distance. Despite trying your best to catch the unicorn in time, you couldn't reach it in time. Instead, rain caught up to you, and you also had to discover how to swim. It wasn't as much fun.

Thankfully, you were able to fly away and find shelter in a cave, cold gnawing at your fingers and feet. And in that moment, you were the loneliest you have ever been. You hugged your knees and stared at your dreadful-looking arm, but you couldn't help but hope the unicorn was safe on the ark.

The minute the level of the water lowered enough for you to search, you didn't waste a second. You roamed for hours, your hair and clothes muddy and wet, tangling around your face and body. A few branches scratch your skin, and pebbles disrupt your messy scout. The sun shone through the branches of the wrenching trees remaining on the land.

That was when you found it. Your breath hitched in your throat, considering the sight in front of you. The water had carried it to the canopy, where the remains of lilac bushes lay still. The long legs of the unicorn lay on the sludge-covered ground. Its beautiful long white mane is all tangled and scattered all across its face, its eyes still open and terrifyingly empty. You didn't even feel your feet move or the tears pouring down your cheeks—just crushing fatigue. It was dead. You were the one who paired it, and now it is gone. God, if you had been faster... Suddenly bursting with adrenaline, you ran and jumped at its side, like you wished you had before it was too late.

You hugged the unicorn's neck as tight as you could, holding on to the vain hope that a heartbeat would be heard. But all you could feel was the wet, cold white coat of the beautiful creature. You couldn't bear to let go; you didn't want to leave it alone. Curled up against its shoulder, you waited. The faint sound of thunder rang through the sky, urging you to look up to that shallow promise that would never make up for anything. Not for the losses, not for the pain. You wish you didn't feel the hurt, but you will be damned if you ever forget the cruelty of that moment.

Footsteps slowly made their way to your miserable form. Your eyes opened on their own, and you looked over to see who interrupted your grieving. And as you thought your heart couldn't be more broken, you let out a desperate cry. Crawley stood there, his golden eyes empty, but his face showed profound sorrow, looking as messed up as you did. A small body draped in a white-drenched sheet was held against his chest. The tightness of his hold reminded you of your own, but the delicacy of his touch made him look so vulnerable. He started walking once again, seeking your eyes, and you felt his misery, adding to your own.

Gently, he rested the small body against the side of the unicorn and patted its head.

"It's not fair." You sobbed, your heart clenching violently, the broken pieces piercing through your lungs.

He kneeled down, seemingly paying his respects like you've seen humans do. "God doesn't exactly do 'fair', if you hadn't noticed."

His red hair hid his face from you, but so did his distress and deep anger. It confused you. Of course you understood how he felt; you just didn't get why. Was it just because it was in his nature to thwart her wishes? But shouldn't he cheer on so many deaths and tragedies? Laugh at pain and suffering, like you have been used to.

"It's just... so cruel, and... I don't..." You couldn't finish the sentence before breaking down in tears. Crawley studied your face, followed the path of your tears, and finally focused on your clenched hands. He inhaled deeply, turned around, sat cross-legged, and gazed up at the sky.

"You might have too much of a sweet heart." In a cheerless joke.

You looked up and saw the majestic bow that adorned the clearing sky among the deadly clouds. It felt like a cynical joke played on you. Mocking you for the naive hope that justice was something God actually cared about.

But... as you peered over the furious demon grieving at your side, you felt less alone and strangely understood. Slowly, your hand went up and down his right arm to soothe his boiling heart, dusting off petals of lilac. He turned around, and you gave him a sad smile.

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33 A.D. Golgotha

It's safe to say you were heavily reprimanded for disappearing like that and letting a unicorn get away, because now, thanks to you, they were all extinct. Great job once again; you kept to yourself. Of course, you didn't mention your encounter to anyone.

And yet they didn't punish you; instead, they put you in charge of their new project, "Jesus." He was an incredible human; he was so full of love and kindness that you suspected they used the essence of the Bound itself. Those thirty-three years were fantastic, and you sure were able to stock up on love. You just wish it didn't have to end so soon.

Now here you were, completely defeated. They always had to do that, didn't they? Someone walked up to you and poked your right arm to get your attention. Surprised, you flinched and turned slowly with wide eyes.

"Oh, Aziraphale." You smiled, happy to see him here, since for some reason he was joyful, despite your circumstances. You had decided to give into your heart, only feeling what other people felt. And also, the filter might be broken; it seemed to work just fine with the guardian angel. He was certainly cheerful to be in the presence of the'son' of God, so it felt nice to feel the same.

Aziraphale smiled in return. "Hello Y/N." He then turned to the scene, and his brows frowned. You couldn't help but stare, like you did in the garden. What about him made you stare? You weren't sure, but you were dead set on noticing all the little details of his expressions. He was so expressive, whether it was through his mouth twitching, teeth gritting, or eyes glittering and squinting. The same goes for his smell; you were sure you could guess everything that was going on inside his head.

"Were you assigned to him ?" The gentle voice whispered, as if not to startle you. You thought about your answer. It wouldn't be logical if only cupids were to care for him, so it wouldn't blow your cover. But why did you want to keep lying so much? You slapped yourself mentally. Because he was a principality, because you showed too much emotion for a heartless being, and because you fricking bound him like a demon! But he was so nice, maybe he wouldn't mind... No.

"Yes, I followed him for most of his life." You smiled quickly but definitely stopped gawking his way. "He is a wonderful person." Tears welled up in your eyes, but you knew his existence was still worth it.

The disturbing sound of cracking bones, the hammer, and Jesus's words brought you back to reality, away from the memories. Why do humans never acknowledge good or beautiful things without having to break them? Love was a tricky concept to them, and they didn't really know when to let things be. Because, come on, he was betrayed by a kiss. They used love and trust as weapons. Humans would rather choose hatred and ignorance if it meant they were right and their pride would remain intact.

"Yes, humans can be dreadful creatures. sometimes." The angel nodded. You looked up, flustered. Being used to having yourself as your only companion made you forget to close your mouth and not get lost in your  reflection."

You flinched when he screamed, and you averted your eyes to the ground. A long black robe came into your view. Climbing up from the dry soil to the eyes of the newcomer, you smelled the spice of the naga viper. Crawley was indeed quite angry, alright ?

"Hi Crawley." You greeted me while taking a step closer to Aziraphale, away from the smell.

He acknowledged your presence with a smile and a nod, and you felt the angel stare behind you. You turned around to identify the emotion slithering from Aziraphale, but it was already gone. Still, he was fidgeting with his fingers and slowly backing away.

"Come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you ?" The demon inquired of Azirphale.

"Smirk ? Me ?"

"Well, your lot put him on there." He shrugged.

"What ?" Your incredulous voice resounded louder than you thought. "I thought it was the hate demons." You grasped Aziraphale's sleeve for support, and you fixed him. And he didn't pull away.

"Well, it was, but we, in a sense, let them put him there." He tried to explain the best he could while preserving Heaven's integrity. "And I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley. Otherwise, it would have been a more merciful death." He finally assured you, and you let go, unsure and overall confused.

"Oh, I've changed it."

The two of you turned to Crawley. "Changed what ?" You asked.

"My name. ' Crawl-y' just wasn't really doing it for me. It's a bit too... squirming-at-your-feet-ish." You chuckled at his explanation.

"Well, you were a snake." Aziraphale smirked, and his brow ticked in a teasing manner.

He was? You gulped and bit your lower lip. Thoughts came in a whirlwind into your mind, and you certainly weren't listening to anything they were saying. God, how many mistakes have you committed? The unicorn, the forbidden bound, and letting the snake tempt Adam and Eve into eating the apple. You were a complete catastrophe.

"Did you ever meet him ?" You heard Aziraphale ask.

The step you tried to take back was stopped by confusion. They were supposed to be linked, and when that happens, the people involved spend a lot of time together, as one would expect. So logically, they would at least know if the other had met someone as important as Jesus. What if... You visualised the surrounding bounds, the complete, yet-to-be finalized and the multitude of possibilities. You darted down to observe the bound of the two and realised you were standing in the middle of it. And to add to your feeling of failure, you realised the bound was anything but completed.

You can't even get that right; you mocked yourself. Laughter and tears wanted to escape your throat. Maybe it was for the better, but still, you couldn't bear to be the reason two people couldn't be together, especially not with such a beautiful bond. Perphas, you could try to shoot them one last time. You considered the thought for a moment and slowly decided against it. That was until you heard Jesus cry in pain once again.

"Oh, that has got to hurt." Crawl—no, Crowley hissed. You sniffed, but a small smile settled on your lips. The sound alerted the angel that spined to see you.

"He'll be alright, dear." He reassured me while tilting his head to the side to get a better look at you.

"For sure. Like I said, he's a bright man who wouldn't even hurt a fly; he'll go right up there." Crowley assured me too, gazing up at the sky.

You scratched your arm and hummed in response. Jesus was being horribly tortured for the ideal that love was the best thing life had to offer, and he priotized beyond anything else. The feeling was mutual; you wanted to live by that, if only your peers didn't make it sound so out of place. But you thought the least you could do to honour your philanthropic companion was to respect his beliefs.

"I'll be heading home... I'm heading to heaven. Gotta prepare for his arrival." Your eyes were lost staring at some rock on the ground before retreating away and weaving. "Bye, bye."

"You're sure-" Aziraphale tried, but you were already gone, middling in the crowd where you belonged. A faceless stranger that no one recognised. You turned your blindness spell on and flew up in the sky. You glanced down on the pair and laughed to yourself while aiming. Hopefully you wouldn't have to shoot them again, but come on: how many more arrows would this bound need ?

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41 A.D. Rome

Your invisible form was flying through the streets of Rome at a daring speed. Footsteps running on stone pavers and clothing rubbing against the rough surfaces of the city walls rang in the air. The giggles of the youthful couple were mixing with your own as you twirled around in pure delight. Oh, the sheer happiness of being young and deeply believing that their first love story would last forever.

It might be surprising to hear for some, but cupids were not shooting at every couple. It is your principal job, but most importantly, you were supposed to make sure the world's boundaries were constantly supplied with love. Of course, bounds were the most secure way of ensuring it; not every love story was meant to last forever. And young love is one of the most powerful types, beside unconditional love, as it is filled with hope and innocence.

The young man suddenly grabbed his lover's hand and pulled him into a small, secluded alley. You clapped your hands and soared up in the sky to land on the rooftop of a house. You crawled your way to the hedge of it and gawked down on them with a wide smile. The smaller boy was backed against the wall while his partner was smothering him with kisses on her nose, cheeks, and throat. His arms were passed around his neck as he hugged him lovingly. You supported your head with your hands settled against your cheeks.

The taller boy separated himself from his neck, and he used this opportunity to kiss him passionately. A huge wave of love came rushing up to you, and you inhaled it with vigour, both with your nose and mouth. It raised you on your knees and made you fall down on your back. You basked in the reinvigorating feeling and strung out profusely. The cold stone made the exposed skin of your legs shudder, but the warmth you felt in your heart surpassed any other sensations. It filled your stomach, and you were completely sated.

You hummed deliciously and observed the sky. Now, you were thirsty and still riled up from the emotion, and as always, you didn't know how to manage the thrills coursing through your system. As you came to understand, humans had different ways of dealing with such stirs. The more your body experienced, the more you contemplated your options; you just didn't have the guts to try. Whether it was food, sleep, or sex, You didn't know why; you just had that urge to be human.

Of course, it was absolutely inconceivable for your fellow angels and certainly for the demons too, if you were honest. It was just a different side of yourself that you started to discover. As strange as it is to say, acknowledging to yourself that you made terrible mistakes on Earth made you feel wonderfully uninhibited. You just lack the courage and actual safety to try.

Being unable to talk to anyone about it made you feel so insecure and scared. What if something went wrong ? What if your gifted body wasn't made to experiment anything 'humanly'? Oh Jesus, what if you exploded?! Yes, you had an inexplicable fear of exploding, and you had no idea where it came from. You just needed someone to... Well, actually, you just needed someone.

You rolled to your side and listed all the endeavours you wanted to throw yourself into when you felt an oddly familiar presence. You were alone most of the time; no one was really 'homey' in your heart. So, you kept rolling towards the busiest street, forsaking the lovey-dovey couple. It was a restaurant, and a busy one at that. Still, you managed to spot a red-headed man with much shorter hair than you remembered.

You looked down at your hands, still doubting the choice you made eight years ago. To appease your mind, you slipped down and called off the spell. Maybe they were on a date. Did they eat food ? Yes, you had your priorities neatly organised.

You peeked the upper part of your head through the door frame and found Crowley sitting alone on a stool. Scanning around the restaurant, you were met with the queer sight of Aziraphale playing on his own. Well, maybe it was a tradition of theirs...

"What have you got? Give me a jug of whatever you think is drinkable." He leisured. It peaked your interest, but you didn't initiate any movements. You watched intently when you saw Aziraphale get up from his seat and go up to the demon.

"Crawley- Crowley ? Well, fancy running into you here." Damn, they are definitely the least communicative couple you have ever encountered! Certainly, a bound like that would make it so much harder for them to be apart. You flashed your eyes pink, and that was when you summoned your vision. And you felt like screaming. Their link was still incomplete !

"Y/N ? Golly, it's quite a reunion." Aziraphale chuckled, clapping his hands. He gestured for you to come to the counter too. Unsure, you tiptoed your way towards them. Your mouth opened slightly when you saw the two drinks lying there.

Aziraphale followed your eyes and chirped. "Oh, where are my manners? Would you like a drink too, dear ?"

You blushed and started playing with your fingers. "I never consumed anything from Earth." The stutters you let out doubled the intensity of your embarrassment.

"Anything ?" Crowley insinuated, even though you didn't catch what he meant. The angel did, though, and tsked in a reprimanding tone.

"Still a demon, then?" He gave him a side eye.

The redhead snarked in response. "What kind of stupid question is that,'still a demon?' What else am I going to be, an aardvark?" The angel didn't listen, however, and ordered a drink for you.

You looked down, feeling like you were overstepping a private discussion. Sheesh, your shot has been totally useless, heh? You were really good for nothing, cupid, now were you? "It's really nice of you, but..."

"Here you go, apple and pear juice." The bartender served you right before you could slip away. You eyed the goblet and sniffed the sweet smell of appel and pear, the scent of endermant.

"Don't worry, the taste is way sweeter than house brown; it'll be easier for a first try." His round hand was handing you the drink, and you gently grabbed it, brushing your fingers against his. Bubbles were twirling in your stomach at his consideration.

"Thanks." You mumbled. Crowley huffed with a smirk. When you met his gaze shyly, he winked and grabbed his own cup. A gentle and warm sensation envelopped your body, and you held your cup closer to yourself.

"Salutaria." Aziraphale cheered and went to clank both of your goblets. You and Crowley met him in the hallway, and the vibrations caused your skin to create goosebumps. You enjoyed the feeling, especially when you ran your fingers alongside the texture, like you were doing unconsciously on your right arm. Freezing mid-thought, you rushed to see that your heavily scarred forearm was exposed for anyone to see.

Hiding it in such a hurry caused the pair to study you. You forced out a laugh and raised your glass again. "Heh, a moment of hesitation." You said this before bringing the cup to your lips. In the corner of your sight, you saw the angel moisten his lips.

"So, why are you in Rome for?" Crowley wondered, not caring at all for your discovery, as he finished his drink. You hummed in delight; your taste buds felt like exploding. You darted your tongue out and rolled it around the bit of honeyed pear that couldn't quite enter your mouth. Crowley gulped audibly, as he apparently didn't finish his bevarage as you thought he did.

"Mmh... I thought I'd try Petronius' new restaurant." Adding to the fruity liquid, a heavy wave of macarons and rosé made its way to your nose. You laughed breathlessly, and you were brought back to the conversation. "I hear it does remarkable things to oysters."

"I've never eaten an oyster." Crowley confessed. Do people eat rocks? You tilted your head, confused.

"Oh, well, let me tempt you to..." Aziraphale started, making you gasp.

You weren't the only one spurred up by the vocabulary of the angel; Crowley suddenly turned around to meet his gaze. That is when you noticed he covered his eyes. Despite this, Crowley still looked somewhat exasperated for some reason but was giving hints of macarons as well. Perphas, they were so flustered because you caught them on their date.

"No, that's—that's your job, isn't it?" His expression was tight, laughing through his teeth, his eyes going back and forth between the two of you.

To make sure you weren't the problem, you tried to suggest you join them on their little trip. "I might try an oyster."

He sputtered, realising the mistake he had made. "Oh God... Mh, the taste might be a bit too rich for you." You licked your lips, chasing the saccharine flavour. Crowley looked etched and suggested something out of sympathy.

"They'll be simpler food..."

You put the goblet down and backed. "Don't mind me, I'll see myself out; I still have some, huh, miracles to do!" It was a lie, of course; your lot didn't perform miracles on a daily basis, but you didn't think much of it. Oddly enough, lying didn't bother you that much.

You were so ashamed. You didn't understand why your bow didn't work. Some couples weren't easy to finalise, but you had already shot them twice. Plus, their bound wasn't strained or weak; it wasn't a technical mistake. So why ? "Have fun." You hoped your smile would encourage them to dine together, in spite of your interruption.

"Y/N-" The crowd already covered your body, while you wasted no time scampering away. The moment you were out of breath, you had arrived at the market. Inhaling deeply, you straightened yourself up, trying to sort out your thoughts. Obviously, something was wrong, whether it had to do with you or with them. If it failed not only once but twice, it's because it wasn't meant to be at all. Continuing would be pointless; you had to give them up. You had to.

Why, in the name of love, could you not make up your mind around the idea? Why couldn't you shake off the feeling of excitement you felt when those two were together? Certainly, a bound that would send such love could not be a miscalculation. They made you feel so good, and the theory of your possible addiction is becoming much more plausible now. But you refused to get addicted to them. You had to leave them; if they were meant to end up together, they would eventually do it on their own.

"Would you like to try an oyster, dear customer ?" A merchant interpellated you, since you had stopped only a few steps away. You observed the display of rocks and took a curious look at the seller.

"How do you eat them?" You asked.

"It's easy; come see." He called you over. First, he held the head in a firm grip and brought a knife to the tail of the pebble. He then twisted the knife around and finally slipped it inside. You raised one brow at your own dirty mind and looked away. Finally, as you didn't watch the rest of the show, he levelled the now-open rock to your face. "And you eat what's inside."

You studied the bogger-like thing and sluppered the whole thing, afraid of the taste. And surprising enough, you loved the taste of it, even if the viscous consistency made it hard for you to properly touch it with your tongue. You wondered what it would have been like if you went with Aziraphale and Crowley.

Jesus, you wanted to slap yourself. Stop thinking about them; you couldn't break your new resolution so quickly. And still, the thoughts kept rushing in! How caring the angel had been when he offered you a gentler beverage. The strange device that rested on Crowley's nose, which hid his pretty yellow eyes, The visible fluffiness of Aziraphale's whole being. Or the sweet gesture Crowley had for you, even though you had imposed yourself between him and the white-haired man.

Ok, you are ceasing at all, Y/N; this is ridiculous. You just had to be a burden, now don't you? All of a sudden, a hand tapped on your shoulder, but you were too irritated to answer politely.

"What ?" You snapped and shook the hand right off your shoulder.

And you turned around. You were sadly met with a slack-jawed Mihael, a colleague and former friend of yours, before the war. She was walking—well, you thought she did—but she still floated a few inches above the ground. Her dark pink eyes scanned your face, your fully expressive face, and trailed down to where you lay. She saw you eating, walking, and feeling. Oh God, she saw you snap, broodi, and enjoy. Worst of all, she was, out of all the cupids, the most documented about your situation. Mihael knew. It made her terribly dangerous.

"Please..." You pleaded, reaching out to her, but it only made it worse. She pranced as if she had been burned by your aching hands. Wors couldn't align together.

"Mihael, wait !" You ran after her, but she had already taken off and activated her blindness spell. "No, for heaven's sake !" You then tried to scream your disapproval out of your heart. Running away was the first thing that popped into your mind. Maybe go to the bottom of the abyss to properly cool down. That's how Mihael would come back, or if you were summoned, you'd be perfectly capable of faking your emptiness.

You sighed and detected the scent of desire. It was a brothel—a fancy one. You contemplated the idea of entering and finally deciding to indulge in your sinful interests. Hey, you were about to spend a fair amount of time away from all civilization, not even having light as your company. It would just be another line you'd cross, but you stopped counting the moment you bound an angel and a demon together.Oh God, could you just stop thinking about it? Ugh...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1354, Balkan merchant caravan, Greece

"We can't just keep every infant we find, Y/N. She's not our kin." Elif lectured you severely. Who was Elif, you may ask? He's the head of the merchant group you've been following for a couple of months. You had met him and his wife a few years ago, for obvious reasons, and now you travel with them in the hope of providing the parental love the two craved.

However, they were never able to conceive. So when you found this little baby girl, you knew she needed them as much as they needed her. Convincing Nazli was easy, Elif—eh, not so much. He wouldn't have an unknown baby as his child.

"We will give her to the next village with a stop-by, and that's final." He gave you a stern look and walked away to the group of men gathering around the fire.

It would have been easy to use an emotional orb to persuade him to keep her, but you knew their link would be hollow and fake; it would never last. You sighed and caressed the chubby face wrapped in a tight blanket, nested in the woman's arms. Her eyes pleaded your way, and you sent her a wave of reassurance.

"I'll take care of it, love. Don't worry." You smiled. You jumped out of the caravan and stretched your arms and back. The night sky was truly a beauty. On the day of your creation, though it's all a blur, you remember that it was also the same day all the stars were brought into existence. It was incredible, a majestic moment you wished you could recall more clearly, but your mind was funny like that.

You sighed, the memories of your last meeting with Mihael coming back to the surface, as you did four hundred years after you spent sleeping in the ocean. Honestly, you didn't mean to sleep; it was just all so peaceful, you couldn't help it. She hadn't said anything to Jophiel or Chamuel, not even her own linked! You were so thankful for that. Adriel was a real pain in the ass.

She came to you, more worried than anything else. I apologise until your ears bleed; you still didn't show the full spectrum of your emotions. You didn't trust her. All Mihael did was warn you, advise you to show minimal emotion, and keep better track of your environment.

Following her recommendation, you strayed from your kindness while still providing enough love so they would let you be. Through all your experiences, the distance between you and your peers grew larger, and even if you shared your emotional capacity, you knew you were a freak. It was all too strong. You felt alone in your emotions. Alone in the world. Under the vast canopy of the night sky, with stars twinkling like distant beacons of hope, you stood alone in the deserted land, your heart heavy with a profound sense of isolation. The world around her seemed to fade into insignificance as she gazed up at the infinite expanse above, feeling small and insignificant against the backdrop of the cosmos.

As you traced the patterns of constellations with your weary eyes, a wave of emptiness washed over you, engulfing you in a sea of solitude. Each glittering star seemed to mock you with its unreachable brilliance, a reminder of the vast distances that separated you from the rest of your kind. The soft breeze brushed your hair, bringing along a particular smell. Images of a certain red-haided demon flashed through your mind. A gasp fell out of your lips, and your heart swelled, beating wildly. You searched franticly, bouncing on your toes.

The moment you spot him, you want to rush and greet him, but his posture and behaviour stop you. Crowley is standing next to a caravan, seemingly hiding behind it. Confused, you take baby steps towards him and wait. Once you arrive near him, you get to see what he was watching.

Thieves and barbarians were steathly making their way down the hilltop to the merchants. They were barely visible to the eye; the bright glow of the campfire seemed to warn the good people, but no one seemed to notice. You bit down on your lip when you realised it was certainly your friend's work. Friend ? You meant the client. The anger you felt wasn't directed at him, and it surprised you.

Well, no, what surprised you the most was his next action. While you thought Crowley was here to supervise everything that went smoothly, he instead did something unexpected. He straightened up, raised his hand, and snapped his fingers. You frowned, completely lost. Now, you were standing right behind him, peeking to see the scene unfold.

A huge piece of marchandise rolled out of a cart, one facing the approaching criminals. Elif, who had been conversing with his men, snapped his eyes at the bag before scanning the area around it. Including the bushy hill. The man spotted the group and alerted the others to get ready to fight or hide. You gasped and glanced over Nazli and the baby, but they were far enough away and well hidden.

Your eyes soften at the realisation of what Crowley just did. He also seemed quite satisfied with his actions, and you knew he was congratulating himself. Yeah, you smelled the mix of whipped cream and blueberries. A smug smirk appeared on your face, and you decided to scare him just a bit.

"How much has changed since I left?" You spoke up playfully, making sure to be as sudden as possible. And your wish was answered when Crowley spun around violently, screaming and bolting away from you.

You laughed despite yourself, but the demon was too stunned to really care. "Y/N ?! You scared the hell out of me!" He crowed.

"It seems like you didn't need my help for that." You accused me teasingly, a brow raised.

His widened eyes finally shrank down, and he gulped. "It's not what it looks like." His voice sounded almost pleading, tugging at your heartstrings.

"Crowley, it's okay. I ain't going to denounce you." You took a step forward and tilted your head. "But I will ask you questions." The struggles of battle could be heard, with the thieves charging at the campers.

He groaned and ran a hand in his hair. It grew longer since the last time, probably multiple times since it had been centuries since you two encountered each other. It seemed to be tied into a low ponytail, and his clothes were still as black as the night, in comparison to yours, which were always colourful.

"So... why are you doing the angels work ?"

He sighed and took some time to respond, allowing the gooshing sound of blood hitting the ground to fill the air. "I guess I could tell you..." Crowley took off his glasses and searched into your eyes. In return, you offered him an encouraging smile.

"Me and Aziraphale made an arrangement... We stay out of each other's way and help when we can." He crossed his arm against his chest, leaning again against the caravan.

"Seem simple enough..." You shrugged before frowning. "Don't... don't Heaven and Hell suspect anything ?" Your voice reflects your concern.

A dagger was thrown your way. Crowley grabbed onto your sleeve and pulled you out of its trajectory, next to him. "Nah, they never suspect anything; you know how they are." He tried to act casual, but you did smell relieved that you didn't freak out.

You hummed and chuckled. "Yeah.." A kind of comfortable relationship settled between the two of you, but you couldn't shake the awakening remaining. Leaving abruptly and disaperating for centuries will do that for you.

"Where have you been ?" The redhead inquired.

You inhaled deeply before answering. "I visited the abyss for a while, and... I kind of fell asleep."

Crowley's impressed smile echoed your embarrassed one when he turned toward you. "You fell asleep ?" He nagged with a chuckle. "For how long ?"

"For about four centuries..." You rubbed the back of your head. The air abruptly carried the piercing cries of the infant, grabbing your attention and sending them right back to your clients. You gasped sharply and held your breath. Two barbarians were sprinting towards the poor woman and the baby. Nazli did her best at keeping them at bay, swinging her sabre around and cutting them off enough to prevent them from getting closer. But their patience was running thin.

"Nazli !" Alerted by gut-wrenching cries, Elif called out to his wife, his eyes widening with terror. But he had no time to think; no, he rushed into action. The chief slashed his way to his love, not stopping for anything. Not even the cart right in front of him, where you and Crowley were currently leaning against.

"Wow." The two of you mused in chorus as the chief jumped right over your heads and landed right behind the two men. He brought his long, curvy dagger to the first's throat and slit it wide open. The cries of the baby kept ranging through the air as you watched in awe and slight disgust as the crimson liquid poured down in a thick puddle on the soil.

"Ew." You murmured, earning a scoff from Crowley, who observed the scene with arms crossed over his chest. The other thief punched Elif in the face, but he couldn't care less. He spit out a mixture of blood and saliva and then plunged his dagger into the attacker's chest with all the rage he could muster.

"Mh, talk about killing for love." Crowley commented. But didn't answer. Instead, you looked at the scene tenderly. Elif helped his wife get out of the caravan, putting his hands around her and the baby. That's when the infant instinctively grabbed onto the man's finger. By the way his breath caught in his throat, you knew it pulled right at his heartstrings. You couldn't help but smile like a complete goof.

After what felt like hours, the marchants finally won their battle. Now was the time to mend wounds and sooth souls. Crowley stayed with you the entire night, giving you two hours to catch up. And despite how much you struggled to admit it, you did enjoy spending time with him. Not because he was a dreadful company, quite the opposite. But you knew you had to keep your distance.

Right now, you sat next to each other, watching the spouses cuddle the baby. In the soft glow of the rising dawn, Elif and Nazli sat side by side next to the fire, their hands clasped together in a silent gesture of love and solidarity. The room was bathed in the warm hues of sunrise, casting a soft, golden light upon their faces.

"Nazli." Her husband began, his voice filled with emotion, "I've been thinking a lot about what you said... Maybe we should take her in."

Nazli's eyes lit up with delight, her heart swelling with gratitude for the man she loved more than words could express. You swore in that instead, as you smelt the intoxicating scent of love, you could sink back into the deep abyss and leave solely on the memory of their love.

"Oh, Elif.." She exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. "Do you really mean it ?"

Elif nodded, a smile spreading across his face as he reached out to gently caress his wife's cheek. "Yes." He replied, his voice filled with conviction, "I mean it with all my heart. I want nothing more than to offer you the family you always wanted." His hand caressed the small baby's hair. "Offer her the family she needs. Little Qamirah." He smiled foundly.

Tears of joy welled in Nazli's eyes as she threw her right arm around her husband, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Thank you, my love," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. You smiled tenderly and glanced towards Crowley, your hand gesturing to the couple. He smiled softly and rolled his eyes in anoyance, but you knew how he truly felt.

You retreated from the wholesome, resting your head back against the wooden cart. "Maybe this deal isn't such a bad idea after all."

Crowley mirrored your chuckle. "I guess you could be added to the contract." He jested teasingly.

You gasped happily and smiled. "Really ?"

"Sure, but it'd be best if you stayed on the surface of Earth for that." He nudged your elbow with his own.

"Don't worry." You streched your back and raised your covered arms high in the sky.

Crowley frowned as he took notice of the clothing. "Afraid you'll get a tan?" He teased.

You bit your lip and caressed your right arm. "Nah, more like a fashion choice." You winked. Crowley laughed hoarsely and then streched up his arm. You watched softly as he got up and dusted himself off.

"I'd love to stay, but I got some reel demonic work to do." He waved off and had already started to walk away. In a matter of seconds, you got up and followed after him. Somehow, you didn't want to let him leave, at least not this way.

"Wait !" You called, and Crowley stopped midstep.

"What ?" He turned softly.

Instead of answering, you sprinted towards your caravan and grabbed a plant you had snatched when you went to the other side of Earth and spent time with the Tupi-Guarani ivilization. They have wonderful, complex social structures, rich oral traditions, and extensive knowledge of the natural world. Ah, what a wonderful vacation !

You pulled out the plant; they called it the flower of the moon. It was a stunning plant, prized for its graceful, glossy foliage and elegant white flowers. With its lush, dark green leaves that arch gracefully from the base, the moon flower produces delicate, white flowers with a central spadix surrounded by a white, petal-like spathe. "There you go!" You handed it to him with a bright smile.

Crowley observed this little beauty of nature before looking up at you with an unimpressed expression. "A plant ?"

You rolled your eyes. "Not just a plant, a moon flower. But it's so great to have one of those! You never really feel alone."

His bright yellow eyes stared into your own before he smirked. "It was time for you to emmerge, sweetheart." He nagged.

You pouted and nudged his arm. "Shush. Take the plant, a gift for everything you taught me." He groaned and took it anyway.

"Just so you know, if it dies, it's not my fault." His warning made you chuckle.

"I'll keep that in mind." You winked. "Thank you for your help." He simply nodded as a goodbye before disappearing from thin air.

As you stood there, you felt loneliness crawling its way back onto your shoulders. All the while you stayed with the demon, you never once felt alone. And more than that, you truly experience true understanding, and it was so refreshing... The irony of the situation was truly oddly amusing to you. You didn't trust another cupid, one of your kind, to display every emotion you could have. But it felt so natural to do so with a guardian angel and a demon. Swallowing with difficulty, you observed the newly founded family and felt something echo deep into your soul.

You laughed—a mixture of disbelief and strange relief. Not only were you one of a kind, but you also found out that you weren't alone in this. Yep, maybe you could indulge yourself in their company... Just a tinsy bit...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1793, La Bastille, Paris

"Rattrapes la, bon sang!" You yelled at the young woman, hoping she would finally decide to run after her friend.

"Non, Y/N." She dismissed her sternly, though the tears threatened to leave her eyes. "Elle a fait son choix; c'est son problème." Turning away from you, she hid her feelings for her friend from you. At least she tried.

You groaned and added exasperation. "Elle a juste eu peur, Lucie. Robespierre est en train de couper des têtes à la volée; c'est tout à fait normal!" Lucie's 'roomate' Madeleine had joined her during the revolution, but the more the franzy took over, the more scared she became. People began beheading anyone who was against the Republic ideology, which included severing the heads of nicely dressed people.

Obviously, an argument ensued, and Madeleine decided to run away from Paris all together, to be safe from all the madness. Lucie wanted to stay, to continue the fight, but you knew she loved her more than anything. And here you were stuck between the two, trying desperately to smooth things over and reunite them. Which was insanely difficult.

"Alors quoi, tu vas la laisser partir? Ne plus jamais la revoir?" You tried to reason with her.

"Absolument !" She exclaimed and threw her hands in the air, acting like a spoiled brat. All of this was still too fresh. Lucie was immensly offended and hurt by her lover's words; there was no way to calm her down right this moment.

So you sighed and ruffled your hair. "D'accord, si c'est ce que tu veux..." Softly, you turned away from her. "Mais n'oublies pas qu'elle ne part que demain matin... agis avant que tu le regrettes." You threw her one last glance towards her, giving her time to pound.

As you made your way towards the square, you saw a couple young men tearing out pavers from the street and children gathering wood for their home. The city streets bustled with the fervour of revolution, while you kept seeking solace amidst the chaos that engulfed the lovely city. The distant echoes of revolutionary chants mingled with the clatter of horse-drawn carriages and the murmur of lively conversations, creating a symphony of sound that enveloped you in a cocoon of anonymity.

With each step you took, you felt the echo of Lucie's convictions pressing down on your stomach—the burden of long, agonising memories hanging over your heart, ready to come crashing down any second. The events of the day had left you shaken and unsettled, your mind swirling with thoughts of rebellion and resistance that once again didn't originate from you.

As you kept walking, you found yourself drawn towards the quieter corners of the city, away from the tumultuous crowds and swirling currents of political intrigue. Picking up a small yarrow, you softly palyed with it in between your fingers. As you wandered through narrow alleyways adorned with quaint cafes and bustling market stalls, your sensitive nose smelled of Parisian life and emotions.

With each passing moment, the rhythm of your footsteps became a mantra, a soothing cadence that calmed your racing thoughts and grounded her in the present moment. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you rolled up your sleeves, enjoying the relaxing wind on your scarred arm. The scent of freshly baked bread and aromatic spices was a comforting reminder of the simple pleasures that still existed amidst the turmoil of the revolution.

Slowly, you allowed yourself to be swept away by the beauty of your surroundings, finding solace in the timeless elegance of Parisian architecture and the soft glow of gas lamps that illuminated the streets like beacons of hope in the darkness. You brought the small white flower up to your nose and inhaled its scent deeply.

And as you flew up to a moonlight-bathed rooftop, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing yourself to bask in the stillness of the sky. Reajusting your red béret on your head correctly, your eyes suddenly snapped down to two guards guiding an overly dressed and white figure away towards the Place de la Révolution, where the crowd was gathered around the guillotine.

And you knew who he was, for sure. "Oh God, Aziraphale..." You sighed and shook your head. The angel had quite particular taste in clothing, so it wasn't really a surprise when you spot him parade in Paris with such expensive clothes. Yeah, he always had a way to miss social clues. So, you flew back, saying farewell to your newly found peace, and followed them from a safe distance.

For your part, you dressed as the typical revolutionary Parisian, while slightly more colourful, so you had no trouble sneaking inside the prison, dodging the aristocrats being taken away by the very clear slashing sounds and screams coming from the lace. You kept searching among the moist cobblestones until you heard Aziraphale's gentle voice.

"Look, this is all a terrible mistake." He assured me while you slowly peeked your head from behind the cold stone wall. "I don't think you understand."

"I have good news for you. You are the 999th aristocrat to die at the guillotine by my hand." The man affirmed himself cheerfully, like a proud collector. "But the first English." You rolled your eyes at the statement, still waiting for the right moment to interfere. Why did Aziraphale not consider using a miracle? Why risk discorporation, especially such a painful one ?

"Now..." The man started before you heard him move around.

Before you understood what he was doing, Aziraphale got up, his chains clanking on the ground. "Please ! No."

You frowned, anger bubbling in your stomach and your teeth gritting. No way I'm letting him hurt Aziraphale... A rush of adrenaline washed over you, but just before you could intervene, a voice spoke from behind you.

"How about we help our little friend, mh ?"

A loud, high-pitched yelp escaped from your throat, and you turned violently around. Crowley was looking at you through his sunglasses and mocking a smurk on his lips. You let out the breath you kept in your lungs and growled.

"Don't do that." You scowled.

He shrugged and leaned over the prison cell. "It's just payback, sweetheart." He mumbled in a low voice and snapped his fingers, causing your brow to raise.

"Animals." The angel grumbled, deeply reproachful. You smiled and pushed the cell door open.

"Animals don't kill each other with clever machines, angel." Crowley said before sitting down nonchalantly.

"I'm afraid only humans do that." You added, standing with your hands behind your back.

"You..." Aziraphale sighed, and you smelled utter relief emitting from him. "Good Lord..." He smiled, rolling his eyes. You close up to him and gently remove the chains from his wrists. Your eyes trailed on his clothes, and you scoffed. Long white coat, richly decorated vest, obviously tailored pants, gee... The only thing you missed was the way your friend looked down at your hands, his breathing picking up slightly.

"What the deuce are you doing locked up in the Bastille?" Crowley inquired from his corner. "I thought you were opening a book shop."

"In London, nontheless." You finally got rid of the metal and let it fall loudly to the ground. Stepping away from him, the angel had space to take a deep breath and explain himself.

"Well, I was. I got peckish." He pouted, rubbing his bruising wrists.

Crowley smirked. "Peckish ?"

Aziraphale couldn't meet your gaze as you tasted funnel cake in the air. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, if you must know, it was the crêpes." You chuckled in response.

"Crêpes ? Don't they make 'em in England?"

"Not as good as the ones you find in Paris, that's for sure. Oh, and the brioche." He assured me, filled with conviction. You shook your head and kept laughing.

"So you just popped across the channel during a revolution because you wanted something to nibble?" The demon almost, ironically, lectured.

You shrugged. "Meh, I could understand. But not dressed like that, Azy." A smirk took place on your face.

He eyed you two up and down and then stated: "I have standards." In all your responses, you stuck out your tongue. "I did hear they were getting a bit carried away over here, but..."

"Yeah, this is not getting carried away. This is cutting off lots of people's heads very efficiently with a big head-cutting machine." The red head pointed out his slight resentment.

You nodded in agreement, but tried to bring up the positive. "At least, they are quite creative." But all you earned in return were jaded looks from your two clients. You raised up your hands to plead your innocence. "But, why didn't you miracle your way out?"

An effective way to change the subject. Aziraphale looked down once again. "Oh, I was reprimanded last month." You glanced towards Crowley, and you shared a knowing look. "They said I'd performed too many frivolous miracles. I got a strongly worded note from Gabriel."

Your lips twitched in a contrite pout. Only imagining what Chamuel would do if you ever got reported didn't settle quite with you, and the last thing you wanted was to bring to yourself. In a way, you were envious of how Aziraphale had even the chance to make a mistake.

Crowley stood up and strolled towards you. "Well, you're lucky I was in the area."

"We." You wasted no time correcting him.

Aziraphale scoffed. "I suppose I am." A soft smile appeared on his face, and the faintest blush appeared as he gawked at the two of you. "Why are you here?" He frowned.

"My lot sent me a commendation for outstanding job performance." The demon answered first, waving off his own statement.

Aziraphale gasped and got agitated again. "So all this is your demonic work?" He gestured towards the raging crowd.

"No. The humans thought it up themselves. Nothing to do with me." Now it was Crowley's turn to clear his name. So, there is a chance for you to restore your image.

"Heh, I told you, creative." You chirped proudly. But the same silence welcomed your words. You sighed, and your shoulders fell. "Fine..."

"Well..." Azirphale talked up again after a few seconds of judging silence. "I suppose I should say thank you for the, uh, rescue." He swung his arms from either side of his body softly.

"Don't say that." Crowley suddenly surged forward and snarled, startling you slightly. "If my people hear I join forces with an angel to save another, I'll be the one in trouble."

You sighed and rolled your eyes, already starting to walk away. Over the centuries, you learned to leave these two whenever they started to have a moment. "And my lot, do not send rude notes." Crowley's voice was fading and was replaced by your own footsteps.

"Well, anyway, I'm very grateful. What about if I buy you lunch?" Aziraphale offered. You stopped in the middle of the hallway and, at a turn, smiled, melancolic, before foresaking their conversation. Even though it didn't stop there.

"What do you think, Y/N?" The red head stopped mid-sentence as he noticed you were gone. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "What do they always do?"

Once again, you didn't join them for lunch. Why would you? They were just clients. You repeated this to yourself all the time, hoping one day it would finally make its way to your brain. But this desire never went away, despite how many times you echoed your words over and over again.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the slowing city, you stepped out of a restaurant, crêpe in hand. Obviously, to avoid any unwanted attention, you made sure to pass by Lucie and, thank you enough, Madeleine. Quietly munching on your treat, you observed their bodies finally coming together. The tension that had lingered between them for so long seemed to melt away in the fading light, replaced by a tentative sense of reconciliation. They were a few feet away from each other, but still Lucie reached out tentatively, her hand trembling slightly as she touched the blonde's cheek, her eyes filled with regret and longing.

"Je suis désolée, Madeleine." She whispered softly, her voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of leaves. "Je n'ai jamais voulu te faire de mal." Tears softly formed in her eyes. "Je t'aime plus de tout au monde." She confessed, her voice breaking under the emotion.

Madeleine's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she reached out to clasp her lover's hand in her own, the relieving scent of forgiveness filling the air. "Je t'aime aussi, Lucie." She replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "J'ai juste eu tellement peur... tout ce qui passe en ce moment..." Her breath quickened once again through her fear.

"Je sais, je sais, et je m'en excuses. Mais je te promets qu'il ne t'arrivera jamais rien, jamais." She assured, so determined with the firm intention to protect Madeleine until her last breath.

And in that moment, as they sat together beneath the canopy of clouds, you felt a pang of longing tug at your heartstrings, a silent reminder of the feelings you had buried deep within your soul. It wasn't the first time you felt envious, but you would never let those feelings settle in your heart. The choice you made so many centuries ago will never change. However, as you watched from the sidelines, you were unable to recognise the truth that lay dormant within your own soul.

Lucie and Madeleine embraced, their love rekindled amidst the fragrant blooms and gentle whispers of the night, as they finally found solace in each other's arms. "Ça ira mon amour..." Lucie hugged Madeleine tightly against her chest as she continued to sob her relief and fear. "Ça ira pour toujours."

Yeah, it will be okay. You bit off a bit of your crêpe, the mixture of the taste of love and your little snack warming up your belly in the best way. You got up and stretched out your arm, bow in hand. And while you shot the two of them, you kept hoping that one day you would be at peace with your choice.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

1811, Windsor Caslte, London

The grand ballroom shimmered under the warm glow of candlelight, its walls adorned with opulent tapestries and gilded accents. As the musicians tuned their instruments, the air buzzed with anticipation. Ladies draped in silk and lace, gentlemen adorned in tailored coats, assembled in a choreographed display of social refinement. As the orchestra struck the first notes, couples gracefully glided across the polished floor, engaged in the intricate steps of the minuet. The scent of perfumed wigs mingled with the delicate fragrance of flowers scattered throughout the hall. Servants discreetly circulated, offering glasses of fine wine to the elegantly attired guests. You swiftly grasped a glass and nodded to the young woman, thankfully.

Amidst the rhythmic rustle of silk and the subdued murmur of conversations, the atmosphere exuded a sense of sophistication and regality. The ball at the court of George III unfolded as a spectacle of grace, where every movement and gesture spoke the language of grace and societal hierarchy. You strolled among the crowd to fade into the background while observing two enemies dancing together. The line between love and hate was so thin. You couldn't help but feel drawn to them, despising the risk of facing a hate demon. She was sent to kill him, a duke, but they've been dancing for hours now. The tension was there—the ballroom, the dancing—if you wanted to, you could just send a wave of temerity, and the deal would be sealed!

I continued to stroll in a circle around the couple, listening to the music softly. You enjoyed the sweet melodies and the frail details of each note; it made your heart react differently to every song. You hummed the languishing melody as you closed up to the buffet, where you were met with a familiar presence. Your head softly snapped to study the table covered with baked goods, and you smiled brightly as you recognised the person. Rushing to his side, you wasted no time greeting him.

"Aziraphale !" You chirped as you stood a few feet away from him. The white-haired angel was startled, as he didn't expect you here, even less to catch him with his mouth full. He let out a muffled exclamation before swallowing with difficulty.

He coughed a bit before greeting you back. "Y/N, hello!" Aziraphale smiled and closed up to you ever so slightly. "Golly, I haven't seen you since the bastille." His whole presence was so warm, and you couldn't help but bask in it.

You nodded, still smiling like an idiot, as you looked at him up and down. "I'm relieved to see you understood how to dress according to the situation." You teased him playfully and nudged him gently. Worry had eaten you up for a long time since the last time you saw the trusting angel almost getting disintegrated, so it was refreshing to see him well and still so fluffy-looking.

"O-Oh.." He smiled, embarrassed, while rubbing where you had touched his arm. He laughed softly. "Yes, I learned my lesson well enough."

You grinned gently before grabbing a small snack from the display of food. "So, what have you been doing here?" You munched softly on the little dish before looking back up at him.

"Oh, well, I've been sent here to perform some miracles, as always." Aziraphale explained. "But I must admit that I stayed for the music and the food." He hummed as he picked out something too. "Ah !"

You laughed softly at him and took in the ballroom once more. "I see. It's nice to see another angel enjoying music too."

His eyes seemed to sparkle when he nodded. "Indeed, it is." He smiled, his squishy cheekbones raising up. Despite yourself, you couldn't help but blush at his attention, though you would not admit it. To shake those ideas out of your head and tilt your head towards the intricate dancing. "Even danced before?" You wondered, taking the last sip of your wine.

"Oh, heavens no..." Aziraphale dismissed you, while you still caught his yearning gaze directed to the dance floor. "Angels don't dance."

You raised your brows, your lips pouting in an agreeable manner. "True, but we are one of a kind." The smirk on your face was nothing but devilish.

He exhaled deeply and shook his head. "You spend too much time with Crowley." The last dance came to an end, and the room roared with delicate applause. Aziraphale kept fidgeting with his fingers, longing to join in on the next dance.

"By the way, I know the steps of the minuet." You trailed off casually. "I could guide you." A small grin creeped into the corner of your mouth.

His chest swelled quickly at your words. "You do?"

twirledYou didn't ans;er him, instead, you giggled and led him to the dance floor. In the dimly lit ballroom, the strains of a delicate melody of the song 'St James' House' twirling in the air. With a gentle yet firm touch, you guided him through the intricate steps of the dance, your movements fluid and effortless. As you two glided across the polished floor, your poised demeanour contrasted with the angel's tentative strides, yet he followed your lead with a mixture of awe and determination. His steps faltered occasionally, but your encouraging smile and subtle corrections kept him in rhythm. With each turn and twirl, you conveyed a seemingly lifetime of experience, while Aziraphake, with his earnest enthusiasm, added a sense of freshness and spontaneity to your performance.

He had the happiest grin on his face while gracefully gravitating around one another. "You're doing great."

His cheeks were coloured a soft pink. "It's so much better than I could imagine."

"You shouldn't be afraid to do what your heart wants because you dread what others might think." You chuckled and squeezed his hand.

His brown eyes met yours, and you smelled cypress and pitaya. The words escaped your mouth before you could think; they shocked both of you but truly conflicted him. And you wanted to slap yourself with your own hyprocrisy. However, Aziraphale didn't give your dark thoughts enough time to form.

"Sometimes I wish..." He whispered, looking down at his feet. You gave him time to form his words correctly, gently leading the dance. "I wish I wasn't attached to Heaven." He was truthfully letting his vulnerability out, trusting you with ideas that could get him erased. "Not that I want to be a demon; far from that! But... at least not having so many restrictions and rules."

"I understand how you feel; it's the way Heaven does things. I find it odd and... cruel." Under the facade of elegance and refinement, a sense of unease hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the grandeur of the evening. You two kept twirling and spinning, your steps now synchronised in perfect harmony. With each turn and dip, no one could suspect how you spoke in hushed tones of the injustices and inequalities that plagued the very system they were sworn to uphold.

"It's unfathomable." Aziraphale murmured, his voice tinged with frustration, as he guided Amelia through a graceful turn. "How can we claim to be the arbiters of justice when we let incommensurable horrors happen on Earth ?"

Your brow furrowed in agreement as she met Aziraphale's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the harsh realities they both faced. "Indeed," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness. "I also had been exposed to a certain... hypocrisy." You kept escaping his gaze. "But at least, I think we can find beauty in the fact that despite all the hate in the world..."

You trailed off your last words, preferring to watch over the angel's shoulder and see your two clients still dancing with ardor. Their movements were a silent protest against the injustices that permeated their world, a defiant assertion of their shared belief in a better, more equitable future. A hope that encouraged them to share a kiss instead of guiding each other to their deaths. You smiled softly and led Aziraphale towards the outlet of the dance floor, as you had an arrow to shoot. "Most humans choose love."

As you finished your sentence, you reached the rest of the ballroom. Aziraphale's mouth was slightly open, as if totally mismerized by words. On instinct, you chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Sorry, Az, I have to go, but it was so good to see you again!" You chirped and fantastically ignored the angel's blush. "Bye, bye! Smooches !"

And you left, bouncing up and down and disappearing in the crowd. But you couldn't resist a last little peek. As you did, you catched Aziraphale, pressing his hand to his cheek with eyes wide open. You giggled. Sometimes you forget how angels aren't used to being physical; you have to cut him some slack.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1862, St. James Park, London

In the tranquil setting of the park, you stood next to the serene pond where ducks paddled lazily through the shimmering waters. With each gentle toss of seeds, you watched as the ducks eagerly darted forward, their feathers ruffling with excitement as they pecked at the scattered treats. You were waiting near the Aziraphale and Crowley, discretely, of course, and waiting to see the result of your new attempt. You had tried a new technique and sincerly hoped it worked this time.

Lost in the soothing rhythm of your task, Sarah hardly noticed the passage of time as she waited for her friend, Alex, to arrive. But as the minutes stretched into hours, a frown creased her brow, and a sense of unease began to gnaw at her. Finally, you spotted Crowley alone, striding towards you, his brow furrowed and his expression clouded with frustration. Your heart sank as you recognised the telltale signs of a heated altercation, and you braced yourself for the storm that was about to come.

As he approached, he stomped his foot heavily on the ground beside you, his movements stiff and tense. Sensing the tension radiating from her friend, she hesitated for a moment before tentatively reaching out to lay a hand on his arm, a silent gesture of comfort and support.

He groaned loudly and kept fidgeting and squirming around; it was obvious he didn't handle frustration really well. "I can't believe him!"

You chuckled and turned back to the pound. "It's good to see you too, Crowley." You smirked.

"Yeah, yeah..." He dismissed me but didn't ask anything. Without another word, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a crumpled paper bag, tossing a handful of breadcrumbs into the pond with more force than necessary, causing the ducks to scatter.

"Don't feed them bread!" You slapped his hand to stop him, causing all the crumbs to fall to the ground.

He frowened and shook his hand to nub the pain. "Why ?"

"It's bad for them! There." You stood up and gave him your small bag. "Give them some cracked corn, or even peas is fine!"

Crowley nodded absently and started throwing the seeds inside the lake in a more calm manner now.

“So, what did Aziraphale do to piss you off this time?” You grinned softly. 

He didn't smirk like he used to. Nor even scoff. You turned to him and realised he was playing with the small, empty bag. You frowned slightly and inhaled deeply. Rusty metal and tuna filled up your nose, making you fully turn. Why was he feeling guilty?

“Was it something you did?” You guessed in a soft voice, trying to show him you wouldn't judge him if he made a mistake.

He groaned and took off his glasses to rub his face. His bright yellow eyes met yours, and you saw doubt. What wasn't he ready to tell you? After everything you had discussed.

“If it’s something you said, I'm sure it can be dealt with.” You smiled reassuringly.

He shook his head and faced you slowly. “It's something I asked.” His answer was evasive, but at least he was giving you hints.

You nodded absently, though you didn't know what Crowley could have possibly asked that Aziraphale wouldn't allow. “Did you ask to buy a book?” 

He scoffed out a laugh. “I wouldn't dare.” 

“Then what?” You pressed in a near whine. Crowley lost his smile and looked back ahead. 

His chest rose in a deep inhale, and he reached in his pocket for a piece of oddly wet paper. With a scrunched nose, you took the slimy paper and opened it. And what you read made you feel what other cupids thought you always did. Dead serious.

“What…w-what..” You coughed and blinked repeatedly. “Why would you need that?” 

He was fixed on your face, examining your reaction. “For insurance. In case the deal goes wrong." 

“It's too dangerous.” You took a step back. Anger started to bubble in your stomach. Why ? You couldn't exactly pinpoint it. Maybe it was against Crowley for ever considering such an idea. Or against yourself for participating in a deal that you knew could bring mountains of troubles. You squished the paper in your hand and miracled it away. The red-haired man sighed next to you.

"Fine, take his side; I don't. As I said to him, I got other people to 'fraternize with, some more open-minded people." He pestered you, but you didn't miss the smell of hurt. You huffed anyway and frowned.

"Yeah, right, go on then. Go tell your demon friends how eager you are to get your hands on this; I'm sure they'll be thrilled!" You snarled and threw the last bit of seed into the water, miraculously not hitting any ducks. Not wanting to stay any longer, you left, purposely stepping on the ground harder than necessary.

In an effort to clear your mind, you strolled through the park while the regular questions came running back to you. Why, when you shoot an arrow at them, it doesn't complete their bound but instead leads them apart even more? What were you doing wrong? It often confused you and kept gnawing at your brain, so very often. You entered a part of the park filled with roses of all sorts, similar to the different types of affection and love. Because flowers tend to represent the variety of loves that exist in the world. White roses for young love, pink roses for gentle love... And in the case of this one, you weren't sure.

While you observed this new rose, you failed to notice the angel's presence right at the angle. He was smelling the same flowers as you, Jack Roses, as they were called, to calm his nerves. As he gazed back up, he spotted you. A smile adorned his face, and he gently made his way to you. "Y/N ?" He gently called out. You looked up, too, and smiled. Yeah, you both knew you had the same conversation.

In a comfortable silence, you went to sit together on the worn park bench, the evening sun casting a warm glow over the tranquil scene. You noticed the furrowed brow and tense posture of your friend. He kept twirling the rose in between his fingers. Quietly, you grabbed it from his hand and attached it to his jacket as an ornament.

With this gentle touch, you offered a wordless gesture of support and solidarity. Aziraphale's gaze flickered towards yours, uncertainty etched in the lines of his face, but as he met your reassuring gaze, a flicker of relief crossed his features. In that moment, you felt the tension in his body begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of reassurance and, you’d call it, camaraderie. After a few minutes, you grinned slightly and joked. “Fraternising ?” 

He scoffed and closed his eyes. “You know what I meant.” 

The problem ism that you didn't. Through theMilanals,s you never understood the nature of their bon,orr your relationship with them. Are they friends,camarades, or, lovers ? It was so mess and confusing. Maybe it was because of your heart, but you were not capable of identifying the truth of it all. And solely about them,m which only made it worse ! But now, you couldn't leave Aziraphale alone, could you? It was your fault if they split up, the least you could do was, well, do the right thing. And you always, always do what you think is best.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1941, London

In the heart of wartime London, amidst the chaos and clamor of air raid sirens and echoing footsteps, you raced through the bustling streets, your heart pounding with urgency. The cobblestones echoed the rhythm of your hurried steps as you darted past dimly lit alleyways and bustling market stalls,your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

In the heart of wartime London, amidst the chaos and clamour of air raid sirens and echoing footsteps, you raced through the bustling streets, your heart pounding with urgency. The cobblestones echoed the rhythm of your hurried steps as you darted past dimly lit alleyways and bustling market stalls,your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

You were frantancly looking for Aziraphale. The two of you had been hanging around each other, and you started to notice when he first had contact with the Nazis. And despite your anger, you knew he was putting himself in danger, and you couldn't help but come to his aid. The only problem was that you had no idea where he might be. With every passing moment, the weight of uncertainty pressed down on your shoulders, driving you forward with a relentless determination. Your senses were heightened, attuned to the cacophony of voices and the distant rumble of explosions that reverberated through the city like a symphony of chaos.

Through the haze of smoke and dust, your eyes kept flashing pink, searching frantically for his familiar aura, your aching heart hammering in your chest as she wove through the throngs of people who filled the streets like ants scurrying for cover. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you raced against time, your mind consumed by the singular purpose of finding Aziraphale and avoiding a catastrophe.

As you turned a corner into a narrow alleyway, your breath caught in your throat as your eyes finally spotted Aziraphale's bound, guiding you to a nearby church. With a surge of hope, you quickened your pace, your heart pounding in anticipation as you drew closer to the familiar energy. In your haze of thoughts, you didn't realise you were standing right in front of the huge wooden door and had kicked it open. The noise the door made mimicked thunder, startling the three men, though your blazing gaze was focused on only one. Azirphale had his eyes wide in complete confusion and was surprised. But only after a few seconds of taking your messy appearance in did worry morph into his face.

"Y/N ? Oh, my dear Lord, what happened to you ?" Aziraphale rushed to you, totally abandoning the two men.

"War happened to me." You growled before shaking your head and strolling towards him. "I can't believe you're dealing with Nazis !"

Meanwhile, a thinner man packed up the books Aziraphale had brought. "I will pass it on to the Fuehrer."

"To Hitler ? The wost human ever ?!" You sighed then, completely dejected. Like every war, it took a real toll on you. Love was hard to come by, and you were famished, going as far as bounding rats together. Aziraphale stumbled on his words, wanting to explain everything to you, but stopped himself.

"These volumes of prophecy will be in Berlin by the end of the week. The Fuehrer will be most grateful." You glared the Nazi's way, your face utterly sullen.

"You have been exceedingly helpful, Mr. Fell." You sent a deadly look in the white head direction while he kept fixing ahead of him, lips drawn in a thin line. That's when the noise of a gun resonated inside the empty space of the church. "Such a pity you and your friend must be eliminated, but take heart, just another in the blitz."

A loud, exasperated sigh left your lips, and you commented. "Again ?"

He pouted apologies in response and then turned back to his little friends. "That's not very sporting." You frowned, intrigued, and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

The chubbier one copied your frown and observed. "You do not appear worried, my friend."

The sound of heels was accompanied by another cocking gun. You turn around, your eyes widening along with the two other men, while Aziraphale fakes nonchalance. Still, he reeked of arrogance.

A woman dressed in black was aiming her weapon at the Nazis. "He's not worried." She revealed. She didn't smell friendly, though, but surprising enough, some humans were more talented at hiding their real intentions than others. That's why you couldn't figure her out. Wary, you softly stepped back, in between her and your friend.

"Who is she?" The man asked, and Aziraphale wasted no time in answering. "She, my double-dealing Nazi acquaintance, is the reason why none of those books are going back to Berlin." He turned to you, bowing his head with pride at his own schemes. "And why your nasty little spy ring will be spending the rest of the war behind bars." The two men nicely raised their hands and dropped their guns.

Suddenly, malice hit your nostrils—a mix of sweetpea and the steathy scent of gunpowder—revealing itself when you least expected it. Oh, come on...

"Let me introduce you to Captain Rose Montgomery of British Military Intelligence." The way he talked truly felt like he was reliving a scene from a mystery book, and you could easily get distracted by how much you enjoyed his almost childish joy if you weren't busy eyeing the woman's swinging aim.

She stepped closer, but you stood your ground next to the angel. "Thank you for the introduction." Her smile was too fake, and her gun kept pointing in the wrong direction, and you didn't hesitate to constantly step in the way.

"Our side knows all about the two of you. She recruited me to work for you." He insisted on the word 'work' while glancing furtively at you. But you knew something was off. "Aziraphale..." You started with a meek voice.

"And now she is going to tell you this building is surrounded by..." Aziraphale continued to ramble but interrupted him firmly.

"Aziraphale." You grabbed onto his arm to ground him as a twisted smile diformed the man's features.

"I'm afraid she works for us, Mr. Fell." You held back and growled as the man spoke up.

"Allow me to introduce Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt." The smaller man spoke slowly as the woman turned towards both of you, clearly aiming at you now. Aziraphale gasped, but you kept keeping him away from the weapon.

Greta kept stepping away and started to talk tenderly with one of the men. Gee, you couldn't believe that the most love you had felt in weeks was coming from the most terrible people God had ever created. You glanced back at Aziraphale, who was completely lost, and it pained your heart to see him like this. "Now, where were we? Oh yes." The gun was so close, you swore you could just knock it out of her hand. "Killing you."

"You can't kill us. There'll be paperwork." Azirphale almost pouted behind you, but you sensed him moving closer. But before anything could happen, the heavy wooden door slammed open once again.

And whoever had just entered seemed to have quite trouble breathing. Or maybe they were hurt. In the end, it was a mix of both. "Sorry, consecrated ground." It was Crowley, daring to walk into a church. His feet seemed to burn as he tried to spend minimal time on the ground. And you thought about how grateful you were that you had the ability to fly. "Oh ! It's like being at the beach in bare feet." His voice was so high-pitched that it almost made you laugh.

"Crowley ?" You mused, at a loss for words. It's been years since you've seen him—well,  since your argument in St. James—and it would be a lie if you said you hadn't missed him.

"Yep, the one and only, always there to save your butts." He teased while turning around in circles to avoid standing in one place.

"I should have known, of course. These people are working for you." Aziraphale accused you and finally stepped in front of you.

The demon seeked suppot in one of the dark benches as the floor kept burning him. "Nah, they're a bunch of half-witted Nazi spies running London, blackmailing and mudering people. I just didn't want to see you  embarrassed." He tried to nag but couldn't handle the pain. Instead, he waddled around like a duck.

"Indeed, I see you are covering for us both." Azirphaled mocked you in a hushed voice and smiled when he noticed the growing grin on your face, even if you tried to mask it.

"Mr. Anthony J. Crowley. Your fame precedes you." The man started, catching your attention, and you noticed the woman almost drooling over your friend. Well, it was a bit exaggerated, but it seemed like the best vocabulary to use in that moment.

"Anthony ?" Aziraphale wondered, unsure if he heard him right. "You don't like it ?" Crowley retored, and you smelled legit curiousity; the thought of him changing his name to suit the angel caused a cheeky smile.

"No, no, I didn't say that. I'll get used to it." The white head reassured me, though he kept frowning. And it raised a couple questions for you too.

"Wait, so what's your name ? Or do they call you Aziraphale Fell ?" You leaned in, tilting your head to the side. "Kinda redundant, don't you think ?" You jested with a smirk.

"Really not the place, dear." The angel lectured gently but didn't lean away.

"The famous Mr. Crowley ?" She kept eyeing him like a piece of meat, and you really didn't like that, and you unconsciously moved in front of the demon, but it was kind of useless considering he had to keep moving. "That's such a pity that the three of you must die."

Crowley tipped his hat, and you pouted. "What does the 'J' stand for ?" You continued, despite what Aziraphale had just said.

"It's just a 'J', really... Look at that !" You frowned, followed, and looked over where he was gawking. Holy water. You scowled. "A whole fontful of holy water doesn't even have guards !" The red head explained a mixture of pain and excitement.

"Enough babbling. Kill them both." The Nazi finally ordered, already grabbing the bag full of books.

However, Crowley had other plans. "In about a minute, a German bomber will release a bomb that will land right here." He gestured while dancing around. "If you all run away very, very fast, you might not die. You won't enjoy dying; you definitely won't enjoy what comes after." You nodded in agreement, almost mocking.

"You expect us to believe that ? The bombs tonight will fall on the East End." The chubbier man smirked.

"Yes. It would take a last-minute demonic intervention to throw them off course." Crowley confirmed, and you decided to play along.

"I think you're all wasting quite valuable time, dear fellows." You smirked; you couldn't admit it, but you truly hoped they wouldn't run away and would rot in Hell.

"And if, in 30 seconds, a bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friends and I to survive it." He tilted his head to the side, towards Aziraphale.

"A real miracle?" The angel stammered in response, carefully moving closer to the two of you.

"Kill them. They are very irritating."

Crowley raised his hands and pointed at the ceiling, expectingly. Suddenly, a distant rumble echoed through the darkness, growing louder and more ominous with each passing second. The ground beneath your feet trembled as if in anticipation, sending shivers down her spine. The air crackled with electricity as the sound of rushing wind filled your ears, drowning out all other noise save for the rapid beat of your heart.

With a deafening roar, the bomb plummeted towards the earth like a deadly harbinger of destruction, its descent marked by a piercing shriek that cut through the silence like a knife. As the bomb crashed into the church with a thunderous explosion, the earth shook with the force of its impact, sending shockwaves rippling through the air like ripples on a pond. Glass shattered and metal groaned in protest as the building buckled under the sheer force of the blast, the sound of crumbling masonry echoing through the night like the tolling of a funeral bell.

At an agonisingly slow pace, things settled. Your eyes had started to water, and you had instinctively closed your eyes to shelter yourself away from the bright light, the noise, and the chaos. The fear inside you was growing exponentially. It all happened in seconds. Your heartbeat was racing wildly, and your breath was shallow and erratic when you felt a person's touch. You were confused, and the person kept calling your name, but you couldn't find the strength or courage to look up and see who it was.

"Y/N..." The voice sighed, saddened by your state. Ever so gently, you found yourself enveloped in a warm embrace. You inhaled deeply the scent of the coat in which your face was buried and recognised Aziraphale. His arms encircled you with a sense of unwavering comfort and solace. Your body trembled with the aftershocks of shock, and your mind was reeling from the turmoil of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

As the angel held you close, you could feel the steady rhythm of his pristine heartbeat echoing against your ear, which was so reassuring. Crowley came closer too, but kept a distance and slowly stroked your. You felt the tension in your muscles begin to ease, the tight knot of fear slowly unravelling under the soothing touch of your friends embrace. In this cocoon, you allowed yourself to take a deep breath and process everything. You weren't used to so much action, preferring to act from afar. With each passing moment, you felt a sense of tranquilly wash over you, like a gentle tide lulling her into a state of calm surrender.

Finally, you regain composure and separate yourself from Aziraphale, while Crowley backs away. "T-Thanks..." You sniffed. The angel simply smiled warmly and kept his hand on your right arm, as if to grant you at least a bit of contact.

He then turned to Crowley. "That was very kind of you." He smiled once more and nodded thankfully.

"Shut up..." He brushed off, putting back his sunglasses, despite the darkness of the night.

"It truly was." You thanked me too. And you saw Crowley lip twitch in an apologetic pout, but you weren't mad at him; you didn't even think you would react like that. "Hey, there'll be no paperwork !" You chuckled.

Aziraphale along with you too, until he realised something. "Oh, the books!" He quickly scanned over the debris but didn't see them. "Oh, I forgot all the books !" You tried to look for the bag too, and apparently so did Crowley. "Oh, they'll all be blown away."

The demon approached us once again, the bag full of books completely untouched. Your eyes widened, and you watched the interaction with a tender gaze.

"A little demonic miracle of my own." Crowley handed it back to Aziraphale, who simply watched, dumbfounded and so, so smitten. You grinned and blushed at the rush of love you felt deep in your heart. "Lift home ?" He offered as if nothing had happened and walked over a black Bentley.

After inhaling deeply and discretely fed on the love, you gasped at the sight of the machine. "You have a car ?!" You chirped and sprinted behind Crowley, while Aziraphale stayed behind. Though the night was far from over, it started incredibly well, 'cause tonight, you'll be able to feast on a whole lot of love!

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1967, Soho, London

In the smoky haze of the dimly lit bar, you sat perched on a bar stool, a tumbler of whisky cradled in her hand. The amber liquid glinted in the soft glow of the overhead lights, casting a warm, comforting glow over your features as you took a slow sip, savouring the burn that spread through your chest. You truly enjoyed this new pub, and particularly its name, 'The Dirty Donkey'. Yeah, it always makes your drunken laugh out loud every time you think about it.

For a fleeting moment, you felt a sense of contentment wash over her, the familiar rhythms of the bar providing a sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world. But as you glanced across the room, your gaze fell upon your dear client, Crowley, engaged in a conversation with two humans, causing you to cock a brow. They were moving to a private room, much to your surprise and honest annoyance. Thankfuly, not all your clients were desperatly trying to get themselves in trouble; expect two very specific men.

Groaning, you abandoned your glass on the counter and followed them. And yes, you had no shame in eavesdropping on people. Crowley hunched over the table, his voice low and calm as he exchanged words with the shady couple. Your brows furrowed with concern as you watched the exchange unfold, a sense of unease settling like a stone in the pit of your stomach.

"So, Spike, you're the muscles; you'll be hauling on the ropes." The demon explained it all too professionally.

"And she'll be going down on..." You didn't have time to hear the rest as you felt a presence nearing you. With a gasp, you swiftly put on the blindness, and you reprimand yourself for not thinking of it sooner. A young man walks past you and enters the room. In spite of your desire to follow him, you knew better and focused on spying.

"Who are you ?" A man spoke.

"I understand you need a locksmith." You grew even more confused. Why on Earth would Crowley need help picking up a lock?

You recognised Crowley right away. "I was expecting Mr. Narker."

"Well, Mr. Narker's passed on to his reward. I've taken over the business." The voice was the nearest; you figured it was the youngest. "He was my cellmate. He taught me everything he knew. "You rolled your eyes. Gosh, you hated when you were right.

"My name's Shadwell." You kept focusing; you needed to know what Crowley was planning.

"Please... sit down, Mr. Shadwell."

"Lance Corporal Shadwell. If you don't mind." Unbeknownst to the both of you, Crowley and you shared an unimpressed expression at the man's arrogance.

"So, what's so valuable that they're going to leave it in a church at night?" A more feminine voice inquired.  That was when the truth came crashing down on you. You closed your eyes and sighed. He was still after that god-forsaken holy water. You gritted your teeth in anger, but another emotion overtook your wrath. You truly feared for his safety, knowing that he was treading dangerously close to a path from which there might be no return.

With a sense of determination, you straightened up and marched your way out of the building. You had to talk with Aziraphale now. So, wasting no time, you strolled proudly to the angel's bookshop, which was only a few miles away, and even if it erased any trace of epicness, you rushed in.

Startled, Aziraphale's gaze shot up from his book, and he met you in a near panic. "Oh my Lord, Y/N, don't enter like that." He said it gently while putting down his book.

"Sorry, Az, but it's kind of urgent." You apologised while hurriedly floating his way. "Crowley is in trouble."

He met you half-way, sending you a wave of snowy nights. "What kind of trouble?"

"He's going to rob a church to get holy water!" You cried out, deeply worried, too.

"Oh my God, I cannot believe him!" He exclaimed angrily, still in his polite tone. You sighed and waited for a few minutes, as Aziraphale's footsteps marked the tempo of his passing. It gave you both time to consider the whole situation and what your options were. There was no way you would just stay still without doing anything. But how could you prevent him from putting himself in danger?

That's when you got an idea. It wasn't the best, and you knew you'd have to convince the angel and yourself. Swallowing thickly, you finally took a step towards him and called his name. "Aziraphale ?"

He stopped in his tracks and waited for you expectantly, thinking you had found the solution to all your problems. Your lips formed a thin line before you finally offered him your thoughts. "I know what we agreed on, but... maybe we could trust him."

"What ?" His face had lost all its colour, and he looked at you like you had lost your mind. Which was understandable.

You exhaled and put your hand on his shoulder. "Think about it. What's worse? Has he tried to get the holy water on his own, possibly getting caught or, even worse, splashing himself in the process?" You seeked his eyes to convey how much you believed in your idea.

Aziraphale almost pleaded with you with his eyes. You frowned apologies and smiled softly. You were asking for a lot; he was terrified for his life, and you had just suggested giving him a suicidal pill. However, the angel surprised you once again. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before opening his eyes. "Okay."

A few moments later, you and Aziraphale teleported to Crowley's car. You held tightly to the bottle and hid it on the ground in between your legs. Just at the same time, the demon entered his car, sitting lazily. That's when he felt your presence and turned to you, astounded. "What are you doing here?"

"We needed a word with you." Aziraphale started calmly, with a high reserve.

"What ?" He faked ignorance.

Obviously, it didn't fool you, and you rolled your eyes. "Please, we both work in London; it's hard to miss things." Crowley glanced at you from the rear mirror but didn't say anything.

"And apparently you're setting up a... caper." The angel glanced towards you too, searching for backup. "To rob a church."

You nodded and leaned forward, between their seats. "Crowley, it's too dangerous." But your friend didn't let you influence him and kept looking away.

"Holy water won't just kill your body. It will destroy you completely." Aziraphale added, dread lacing his voice.

"You told me what you think 105 years ago." He snarled lowly, exasperation in the back of his throat.

"And nothing changed." You said it serverly, gripping on the leather seat, gaining Crowley's attention as he turned towards you.

"But... we can't have you risking your life." Though you knew you should have backed out the moment you were added to the equation of 'we', you couldn't just leave. "Not even for something dangerous..." Aziraphale sighed.

"So..." You reached down to the car floor, carefully pulled out the thermos, and slowly handed it to Crowley. His hands shook as he reached to grab it, though you still held onto it.

Aziraphale swallowed thickly and eyed the bottle like a hawk. "You can call off the robbery."

Your fingers met with the demon's as you let go of the bottle. "Watch the cap. Don't unscrew it unless it's your last resort." You warned in a hush voice, afraid the cap might just pop right off it.

"It's the real thing?" Despite his glasses, you can see how incredulous his face was. He held the holy water like a bomb, ready to explode.

"The holiest." Aziraphale was incredibly stiff, and he kept leaning away.

"After everything you said..." he whispered, unable to wrap his mind around the idea of the both of you giving in. "Should I say thank you?"

"Better not..." You smiled.

"Well, can I drop you anywhere?"

"No. Thank you.." Crowley pouted; he really wanted to do something for Aziraphale, but he kept being so stubborn. "Oh, don't look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could... I don't know." He smiled thoughtfully. "Go for a picnic." He then glanced at you, truly hoping you would accept his next offer. "Dine at the Ritz." He shrugged. You looked down; maybe you were the stubborn one after all.

But Crowley insisted. "I'll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go."

"You go too fast for me, Crowley." Really ? Like, really? You sighed and roughly leaned back on the seat. Aziraphale didn't waste any more time and slipped out without saying another word.

But you could see past the facade of bravado the vulnerability that lurked beneath the surface of Crowley's neutral exterior. So, you reached out to him, making a silent plea for him to not give up. You knew that no matter how fiercely Aziraphale resisted, he would always be there by his side, despite how much he wanted to pull away.

For your part, you stayed, feeling a kind of pull urging you to do so. After spending some time in silence, Crowley spoke up. "Need a life, sweetheart?"

You chuckled and sat back up. "Please..." You observed the wheel for a few seconds before chirping, interrupting his movements. "Can I drive?" You used your big, charming smile.

Crowley glanced your way for a few minutes, contemplating the idea before shrugging. "Sure." He opened his door to switch places. You grinned mischievously and grabbed the stirring wheel tightly.

"I'll give it to you fast, boy." You said that and started the engine. Pray for Crowley's poor heart.

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2000, Aziraphale's bookshop, London

On your way to meeting Aziraphale and Crowley, you couldn't help but giggle like a little child. You skipped through London, avoiding flying and frightening the sweet baby creature snuggled against my chest. You didn't know such an adorable thing could ever exist, but humans were always full of wonderful surprises! You squeezed your way through the crowd on the busy side walk before finally catching a glimpse of the angel's bookshop.

"Almost there, baby!" You cooed with a big smile and felt her squirm against you. You hurried to cross the street and forcefully pushed the door open with your shoulder. The bell rang loudly, which brought your friends attention to you. Crowley was sitting on the couch, well, more like his body was thrown carelessly on it, whereas Aziraphale was nicely sitting on his big, comfy chair and holding a small device in his hand.

Crowley threw his head back to look at you. "Happy new milenial." He joked with scoff. You smiled brightly and floated towards them, not far away from the ground but enough to not walk down the stairs.

"Hello..." You sang and giggled again until I landed next to the couch. You squeezed the little bundle of joy into your arms. Aziraphale cocked a brow, amused.

"What do you have here, dear?" He smirked, curious. Crowley sat up and looked at you, intrigued as well.

"Oh... nothing..." You chuckled, giggling. Scanning the room for a place to sit, you notice a brand new big divan, which you had never noticed before. "Well, this is new."

Aziraphale got up and took the place next to you. "Indeed, it is." He laughed softly. "It's for you." You looked at him, showing him your disbelief.

"Aw, really?" You asked while approaching the grey van. It had a back, so you didn't have to just lie on it, and it looked really squishy too. You sat down on it and smiled brightly. "Oh, this is great! Thank you.."

The angel dismissed your gratitude with a small gesture. "No need to thank me, dear. "You'd simply like a place to sit on your own."

You smiled gently at him before Crowley spoke up. "What kind of animal is that?" He titled his head to the blanket in your arms as he gave off strong aromas of curiosity and... endermant?

You brushed it off and inhaled deeply. "Gentlemen..." You started trying to set the ambiance. Both of them leaned slightly. "Let me present to you... Eden!" You exclaimed wildly and took off the blanket, reaveling your new baby white dexter mini cow in all her cuteness. She mowed softly as you put her down. She was extremely tiny, with her white coat, black ears, and snoot.

"Oh..." Aziraphale cooed, and you could smell how smitten he was already with her. "She is precious." He affirmed.

Crowley gave off the same scent but still tried to keep up his mocking exterior. "Wow, that's where mini hambergers meat comes from." He teased, his uncovered eyes sparkling with mischief.

You gasped loudly, fakely offended, and went to cover her ears. "Shh, you fool ! She might hear you." Eden mooed and nudged your arm. "I know, baby, he's a meanie." You cooed and kissed her forehead.

"Damn right." He laughed and caressed the mini cow's fur.

"Right, you are absolutely dreadful." Aziraphale rolled his eyes, mocking the gentle behaviour of his friend. Crowley growled but didn't retort anything. "

"Really, you would do that ?" You smiled brightly, earning a chuckle from the angel.

"Of course, you spend so much time here; it would be cruel to leave that poor creature all alone." He tilted his head to the side, inviting you to follow him.

Aziraphale opened a door, right behind all the shelves, in the hidden parts of the bookshop. The room was dusty and crammed with books and antics, from the ground to the ceiling. And despite the library in itself, it was the largest room the bookshop had.

"We'll just put all that into other rooms and upstairs."

You turned to Azirphale, who was making grand movements to explain his whole plan. "It would be its personal stable. He smiled from ear to ear. It truly warmed your heart to see him so involved.

Crowley was leaning against the door frame, holding Eden to his chest. You spotted him and cooed mockingly. "Aren't you a sweetheart?"

He scoffed while petting Eden's head. "Nah, that's your job."

You pursed your lips into a bashful smile before an idea popped into my mind. "Oh, I never thought of what a cow might eat !" You exclaimed, outraged at your ignorance.

"Don't worry, dear, I'm sure I have a book about it somewhere." Aziraphale was reassured, already leaving the room to find it.

You sighed in relief and followed right behind him. It took some time, but you eventually found it and walked back towards the room, leafing through the book. The two of you came to a sudden stop. Everything that was previously in the room was lying on the ground. Aziraphale let out an offended gasp.

"Crowley ?" You called out, midway concerned and amused. "I'm not sure that's how you tidy a room."

The angel was the first to open the door abruptly and stop just as fast. You pressed yourself against him to see what happened to the room. Your eyes widened, your heart quickening, and your eyes flashed pink. "Wow..."

The room, if you still call it that, had enormously enlarged. So much that it actually had an horizon. In the seemingly soft glow of dawn, the meadow unfurled like a tapestry woven with a myriad of colors. Dew-kissed grasses shimmered with a silvery sheen as they swayed gently in the early morning breeze. A symphony of bird songs filled the air, weaving melodies that danced among the fragrant blooms.

Clusters of wildflowers adorned the landscape, painting the meadow a kaleidoscope of hues. Sun-kissed daisies nodded their heads in greeting, and their cheerful faces turned towards the rising sun. Delicate lavender blossoms released their sweet, intoxicating fragrance, mingling with the earthy scent of fresh grass and damp soil.

Water streams meandered lazily through the meadow, their crystal-clear waters glinting in the golden light. They carved sinuous paths among the greenery, creating small, tranquil pools where dragonflies darted and frogs sang their morning serenades. Butterflies flitted from flower to flower, their delicate wings shimmering like stained glass in the sunlight. Bees hummed busily, collecting nectar from the blooms and adding their gentle buzz to the symphony of nature's orchestra.

The ceiling—no, the sky—wasn't entirely blue, but it reminded you of a gentle summer morning. Just the softest warmth. We slowly walked into the landscape, afraid to disrupt it. The thick grass felt mellow under your feet, and you couldn't resist kicking off your shoes to feel it yourself. Aziraphale chuckles, joining the sweet sounds of birds and the running water.

"This is amazing !" You laughed in disbelief and utter joy, twirling around, taking in everything this beautiful place had to offer. The ground was now the last thing on your mind, and you took off in the air, floating around like a cherub.

"I can't believe Crowley did all this in such a short amount of time." Aziraphale backed up, caressing the petals of a Jack Rose.

You chuckled and floated in a circle around him. "Where do you think he is ?" Your eyes scanned the area, and you spotted him beyond a field of yarrows, answering your own question. "There ! C'mon !" You landed abruptly next to Aziraphale and took his arm, hurrying him to climb up the small hill.

Crowley was sitting underneath a tree that bore the colours of a pink cherry tree, but the lazy branches resembled those of a weeping willow. Eden quiet moos caused you to smile and rush the final feet, seperating you from the two of them. The demon smiled almost smugly at your arrival, and you responded with a bright grin.

"This incredible..." You panted a bit and roughly let yourself fall on your back, on the grass. Aziraphale chuckled and miracled a blanket under the four of you. A comfortable hum came out instinctively, and you completely laid on the ground. With a happy coo, Eden waddled her way and rested her head on your stomach. Aziraphale sat down as well, crossed his legs, and congratulated Crowley on his work.

"Now, this is a wonderful place to have a picnic." Aziraphale sighed and rested back on his arms. You chuckled and laid down on the blanket. Eden's weight left a comfortable pressure on your chest. Staring at the sunny sky through the pink brenches of the tree, the scent of heliotrope embraces your entire being.

You never knew what heliotrope was meant to represent, despite how many times you asked Mihael about its meaning. All she ever gave you as an answer was a cheeky smile and a shrug. So, you didn't ask further. And right now, all you wanted to do was bask in the scent and never leave this meadow.

Or its inhabitants. For anything in the world.

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There... Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to sleep U,w,U

Hope you liked it, I put extra details for you to enjoy ! Now let's hope Y/N | Balael will be and about in the next chapter, 'cause they're running out of time ;)

And if they're any errors like a lot 'I's instead of 'You's please let me know ^^

Bye bye !

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Masterlist : Here

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[mysweetlixe]

-Hybrids heart

Summary: Y/N works a clinic specifically for hybrids what happens when eight hybrids with very different personalities end up in her care

Words: 2.2k

Chapter 2: famous hybrid

It was Friday, which meant you could finally take a break from your hectic work life. You threw the blankets off and were met with a chill in the air, so you grabbed a hoodie from your closet. Yawning, you thought to yourself, "I should go see if Chan is doing any better."

You tiptoed down the hallway in case your new hybrid wolf, Chan, was still snoozing as you approached the door. You had gone from living a solitary life with no obligations to being responsible for another creature overnight.

Opening the door to Chan's room, you saw him stirring in his sleep. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his fur rustling as he shifted positions. You couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over you as you watched him sleep.

You approached Chan cautiously, aware of how deceptively tranquil he appeared. The soft sound of your footsteps barely disturbing the stillness that surrounded him. You very carefully nudged him awake and spoke softly in his ear, "Chan, wake up. Come on, I'll make us some breakfast."

In a flash, Chan's eyes flew open with such force it seemed as though they could shatter glass. He glared at you with an intensity that was almost threatening before realizing it was only you who had woken him from his slumber. "Y/N," he said, his voice ragged with sleep. "I'm sorry. I don't understand what possessed me to react in such a way."

The room felt heavy with tension, like a storm cloud hanging low before bursting into a torrential downpour. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense and the sharp tang of metal. It felt like the calm before the storm, like anything could happen at any moment.

"Hey don't sweat it I should have been more careful anyway since it's my day off how about we go shopping." Chan's eyes softened as he looked at you, seemingly relieved that you weren't angry at him for his initial reaction. "Shopping sounds great," he replied, his tail wagging in excitement.

You smiled, glad to see Chan in better spirits.

"All right, but before we go out I must put a collar on you for safety reasons."

Hybrids that aren't officially owned are required to have a collar when going out, whereas those who do have an owner usually get microchipped. Chan looked at you with fear in his eyes the collar brought trauma from his past life.

You knew that putting a collar on Chan might upset him, but you also knew it was for his own safety. You approached him slowly, trying to keep your movements calm and reassuring.

"Chan, I know the collar might be scary for you, but it's important for your safety. I promise to make it as comfortable as possible," you said, trying to soothe him.

Chan hesitated for a moment before nodding his head, indicating his reluctant agreement. You carefully slipped the collar around his neck, making sure it wasn't too tight, and fastened it securely. Chan let out a low growl, but you could tell it was more out of fear than anger.

"It's okay, Chan. Deep breaths," you said, stroking his fur gently.

After a few minutes, Chan seemed to calm down. He looked up at you with a mixture of gratitude and trust.

"Thanks, Y/N." You smiled at him before getting ready and heading out.

As they approached the mall, the aroma of popcorn and barbecue wafted through the air mixed with perfumes and cologne. The parking lot was jammed with cars, and people streamed in and out of the sliding glass doors.

Chan's brow furrowed as he looked around at the throngs of people rushing past him, some carrying shopping bags, others clutching children's hands. It was clear that he hadn't been to a mall before, but she squeezed his hand reassuringly as they navigated through the crowd.

"Chan if there's anything you want let me know I'll buy it for you." The hybrid

looked at you with a mix of surprise and gratitude, clearly not used to being offered such kindness.

"Thank you, Y/N. I don't really need anything, but I appreciate the offer," Chan replied, his tail wagging slightly.

As they walked through the mall, Chan seemed fascinated by everything around him. He sniffed the air, taking in the different scents that wafted by and his eyes darted around as he watched people walk by. You pointed out different stores and explained what they sold, and Chan listened attentively. Suddenly, Chan froze in his tracks 

"What is it, Chan?" you asked,

Chan gestured towards a poster outside of a store which featured an iconic hybrid model. "I didn't realize hybrids could get jobs," he remarked.

"Well, you know that Hyunjin isn't just any ordinary hybrid; he's a ferret hybrid who is very popular in the field for his good looks."

Hyunjin had been the poster-hybrid for the world of hybrids, with his owners working hard to keep him in the public eye. But then he went missing without a trace.

Speculation ran rampant, with questions swirling around why and how he vanished from sight. Were his owners involved? Some said yes while others shook their heads in disbelief.

You could see the intrigue and curiosity written all over Chan's face. He couldn't believe that a hybrid could become so famous and popular.

"Y/N, do you think I could become a famous hybrid too?" Chan asked, his eyes shining with hope.

You smiled at him, touched by his innocence and ambition. "Of course, Chan. You could be anything you want to be. Just remember to always stay true to yourself."

Chan beamed at you, his tail wagging furiously. You could tell that he was excited by the prospect of a bright future ahead of him.

As they continued to walk through the mall, you noticed that people were staring at Chan. Some looked at him with admiration, while others looked at him with fear and suspicion. You could tell that Chan was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, so you decided to leave the mall and head back home.

On the drive back, Chan was quiet, lost in thought. You could tell that he was still processing everything he had seen and experienced.

"Chan, are you okay?" you asked, worried about him.

Chan looked at you, his eyes serious. "I just can't believe how different the world is for hybrids. It's like we're constantly under scrutiny and can never truly be ourselves."

You nodded, understanding his frustration. "It's not fair, but we'll work to change that. You should never have to feel like you have to hide who you are."

Chan smiled at you gratefully, his eyes wide with relief. You returned the gesture and then followed his gaze to the rod, but before you could do anything else, Chan yelled out a warning. Instinctively, your foot slammed down on the break, barely avoiding a collision with a figure that seemed to come out of nowhere.

As they stumbled away, you saw their clothes were covered in dirt and grime - but something about them seemed off-kilter. Then it hit you: they had a tail.

You looked at Chan and saw the fear in his eyes, realizing that the hybrid was probably one who didn't have an owner. You knew that living on the streets was dangerous, especially for hybrids who were often subject to cruelty and abuse.

"Chan, we have to help them," you said, determined to do what you could for the hybrid.

Chan nodded his agreement, and you got out of the car and approached the hybrid cautiously. They looked up at you with a mix of fear and desperation in their eyes.

"Are you okay?" you asked gently, hoping to put them at ease.

The hybrid nodded, but you could tell they were lying. They were thin, their clothes ragged and torn, and their eyes were sunken in from lack of sleep and malnutrition.

"You don't have to be scared," Chan said softly, "We want to help you." The hybrid looked up at Chan, and you could see the recognition in their eyes.

"You're a hybrid too," they said, their voice hoarse from disuse.

Chan nodded, a solemn look on his face. "Yes, I am. And I know what it's like to be out on the streets with no one to turn to."

The other hybrid looked at him with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. "Thank you. I haven't had much luck finding help lately."

You could see that the hybrid was in bad shape, and you knew that something needed to be done to help them.

"Chan, can you get a blanket from the trunk? We need to get them some food and water too," you said, gesturing towards the other hybrid.

Chan nodded and quickly retrieved a blanket from the trunk. You wrapped it around the other hybrid's shoulders, trying to provide some warmth and comfort.

"Here, drink some water," you said, handing them a bottle.

The other hybrid drank greedily, their thirst quenched after days without proper hydration. You could see the relief in their eyes as they continued to drink.

After they finished, you handed them a sandwich and some fruit. They ate hungrily, their hunger pangs finally subsiding.

"Thank you so much," the other hybrid said between bites. "I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"You don't have to thank us," Chan said. "We're just doing what we can to help."

The other hybrid looked at Chan with newfound respect and admiration. "You're a good hybrid, Chan. I wish there were more like you out there."

You could see the change in the other hybrid's demeanor, their fear and desperation replaced by hope and gratitude.

"Listen, we can't just leave you out here like this," you said, determined to help them in any way you could. "Y/N has a spare room at her place and you're welcome to stay there until you get back on

help those in need, one at a time. And that's exactly what you planned on doing for this hybrid.

When you reached your apartment, you pointed the hybrid in the direction of the guest room and let them know where the bathroom was. As you walked away from the room, you heard the shower start up, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Turning your gaze, you saw Chan leaning against the

Chan glanced up at the wall, pondering. "I understand that we've saved them, but I'm not sure getting emotionally invested in them is a wise idea."

You nodded in agreement, understanding Chan's reservations. "I know what you mean, Chan. It's hard not to get attached, but we have to think about what's best for everyone involved."

Chan looked at you, his eyes lighting up with understanding. "Right, we can't just take them in without thinking about the consequences. We need to be responsible and make sure that we can provide for them."

You smiled at Chan, proud of how much he had grown and matured. "Exactly. We'll make sure that we're doing everything we can to help them, but we'll also make sure that we're not putting ourselves in a difficult situation."

Chan nodded, his tail wagging slightly. "I understand. And I think we can do this, Y/N. We can help them and make a difference in their lives." You smiled at Chan, knowing that he was right.

The gurgle and whistle of the shower stopped, and a light steam filled the room. The bathroom door creaked open slowly as if under its own power. And there stood Hyunjin, the famous ferret hybrid - fur shining, striped tail twitching. You and Chan were stunned; what was going on here?

All the gossip rags said he had vanished without a trace, yet there he was right in front of Chan and you.

Hyunjin stared back at you and spoke " umm I really enjoyed the shower and thank you for letting me into your home."

You and Chan were both at a loss for words, surprised by the sudden appearance of a famous hybrid in your home. Chan recovered first and spoke up, "It's no problem at all. We're just glad we could help you."

Hyunjin smiled at Chan gratefully before turning his attention back to you. "I'm sorry to intrude like this, but I didn't know where else to go."

You could see the fear and desperation in his eyes, and you knew that he was in trouble.

"It's okay," you said reassuringly, "You can stay here until things calm down."

Hyunjin nodded, a relieved look on his face. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it."

You could see that Hyunjin was still shaking, and you knew that he needed some rest. "Chan, can you show Hyunjin to the guest room? He looks like he could use some sleep."

Chan nodded and led Hyunjin to the guest room, making sure that he had everything he needed before leaving him to rest.

As you sat on the couch, contemplating the sudden turn of events, Chan joined you.

"I can't believe it," Chan said, still in shock. "Hyunjin, one of the most famous hybrids, is sleeping in our guest room."

You chuckled at Chan's excitement, but you could also see the worry in his eyes. "We need to be careful, Chan. Who knows what kind of trouble Hyunjin is in."

Chan gave a solemn nod in response. "You are correct," he said. "We must remain cautious and ensure that we don't put ourselves in harm's way." Little did either of you know in the room was a frightened Hyunjin whose life was about to take an unexpected turn.

Taglist: @0325tiny @feybin @hanniemylovelyquokka @queenmea604 @hydroyaksha

#stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids au #hybrid stray kids #bang chan #lee minho #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #felix #seugmin #jeongin #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

[lavendertales]

dark times || Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: the night you find Joel in a questionable state, to say the least, is the night a confession leaves your lips. A confession that both uplifts and shocks Joel.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: use of alcohol & pills (as depicted in the show); mentions of depression, loss, suicide; established relationship and a lot of fluff for all intents and purposes.

A/N: comments & reblogs are always appreciated! ❤️

It’s not unusual for Joel’s house to be this somber: lights almost turned off completely and utter silence. On nights when he’s perkier he might play around with his guitar, but tonight it seems it’s not the case.

You haven’t seen him almost all day.

The fugitive glimpses you’ve caught of him throughout the day have not been enough. Since you haven’t gotten the chance to talk to him, you simply assumed he was having an off day. On those days, you came to understand that, more often than not, he needed space.

But it’s well past midnight and you have an annoying pit in your stomach, an ugly feeling that won’t cease pestering you. It can’t hurt checking up on him, right?

You let yourself into the house, gently closing the door behind you. The wooden floor screeches beneath you ever so slightly, indirectly announcing your presence there.

“Joel?” you say, barely loud enough to be heard. “It’s me, I let myself in. Are you still awake?”

You see the light coming from the bedroom as you reach the end of the stairs, so you figure he’s either sleeping or just wallowing in self-pity. Again, not unusual. You peep through the door, noticing Joel curled up on the bed, still in his day clothes. As you approach, you notice how disheveled he looks in his green flannel and jeans and big, dirty boots.

“Joel, hey,” you say, gently nudging his arm. “It’s me, hi.”

You keep nudging him, but no response from his side. Perhaps he had one too many glasses of whiskey and he’s finally sleeping properly.

“Joel?”

You start to lose some of your patience and nudge him harder, but still no response. You call out his name, a rush of panic spreading throughout your body. Something tells you to check his pulse; he barely has one.

“Joel, come on, don’t do this,” you quip. “Joel, I swear to God—get up. Now.”

Soon, all words flee from your mind and the only one you can say, on a desperate loop as you try to bring some life into the body by shaking it, is Joel.

Joel. The only man you’ve ever loved.

You fail to realize when tears began to stream down your cheeks, hot and filled with an impossible ache, but you couldn’t care less, not now. You cup his face with your palms, examining every freckle, every eyelash, every portion of skin you can register.

“Joel, don’t you fucking dare do this,” you whisper. “Don’t—don’t you fucking do this to us, I swear I’m—Joel!”

Then suddenly, a mumble makes your eyes shoot wide open, staring down at the face beneath. Joel opens his eyes, trying to get a hold of the surroundings. Then he stammers your name, and you sigh in relief.

“I thought—what the hell happened?”

“Uh—“

He’s clearly not fully awake yet, so you finally scan the bedroom and notice the empty whiskey bottle on the nightstand, as well as a small plate. Then it dawns on you.

“What did you take?”

“Some—pills. And whiskey.”

“I gathered as much. I meant, what pills did you take?”

Joel rubs his temples. “Dunno. Didn’t ask.”

That’s when you finally lose whatever shred of patience you had. The anger you feel is searing hot and white, and you are unable to control it, seeing as how you swiftly stand up, eager to get as far away from Joel as possible.

“So what was the plan?” you whisper through gritted teeth. “Mix alcohol and pills and just… never wake up?”

Joel barely blinks, avoiding your eyes, and the answer becomes crystal clear. It awakens a rage inside of you that you weren’t even aware you could feel.

“You know what? Fuck you, Miller. Fuck you and your selfish, self-destructive wishes. I don’t need this.”

Joel calls out your name, coarse and yet soft, but you pay no attention.

“I don’t need to be adding your death to my list of concerns!” you snap. “I really don’t! I’ve got enough shit to deal with as it is, and worrying whether you’re still breathing or not is not there, it should not—it shouldn’t be there! So fuck you! Fuck you for making me fall in love with you and then making me worry about you! You and Ellie… how the fuck can you think to do this?!”

“You—you what?”

“How can you think to do such a thing when you’ve got people around you who care about you?! Ellie, Tommy, Maria… me! Fucking—me, loving you day after day, night after night, and never getting easier because—“

Your chest is heaving, filled with heavy breaths. Your eyes are teary and your heart—oh, how it aches at the thought of losing this troubled man. It aches for him, incessantly so, and tonight is nothing if not a testimony to your accidentally spilled feelings.

It is now, in the aftermath of your anger, that you come to acknowledge you haven’t said the L word before, and that this is a huge deal for someone like Joel.

But he doesn’t say anything, and neither do you; you simply stare at each other, hearts breaking and aching for each other simultaneously. You’re the one who decides to break the silence.

“Do what you want, Joel.” There’s defeat in your voice, as well as in your eyes. It breaks Joel too in unexpected ways, but he finds his body too heavy to react properly. He can only look at you regretfully. “I can’t tell you what to do. But I thought…”

You pause simply to catch your breath, only now realizing how hard you’ve been breathing and how much this scenario has been weighing on you.

“I just thought the life we get to start over here in Jackson would provide some sort of comfort,” you finish saying, wiping your cheeks. “I really thought you might be okay, or if you weren’t, that you’d talk to me or Tommy.”

Joel coos your name, struggling to stand from the bed, but you put your hands up in some sort of defense.

“Do what you want, Joel.”

You do feel some form of regret as you exit the house, still crying. Guilt slowly overwhelms you for not asking what was wrong instead of lashing out like that, but the truth of the matter is, you panicked. The thought of losing Joel like that was too much to bear, and seeing him in that awful state, probably drowning in his own thoughts and pain, it was shocking and debilitating.

For both of you, yet in different ways.

You hear your name being called out in the distance, yet you do not turn around. Although you want to see him, to look at him and admire the liveliness in his face, you also don’t want to see the pain residing behind his eyes, the hollowness of them.

“It’s her birthday today.”

You stop, the information sinking in.

“Was,” Joel corrects himself as he approaches you, clearing his throat. “Today was her birthday. Every year, it fucking sucks. I always try to forget, to leave it behind. It never works. I always wake up somehow… and I always remember.”

Your face softens, turning to meet with this face. When you do, you see the devastation smeared all over it, the troubling ache and the desperate need to fix the situation, and you sigh involuntarily. You know Joel used to be a contractor in his former life, and so he’s used to building and fixing with his own hands.

The inability to fix the worst pain of his life must be the most troublesome feeling.

“I’m sorry,” it’s all you can muster. “It must be unbearable.”

“It wasn’t intentional. I just thought I’d… numb myself, and then I’d wake up. Guess I did.”

You fear you sense regret in his voice, but you don’t express your concern. Joel, however, inches even closer and shyly reaches for your hand, lightly stroking the back of your hand.

“I don’t want you thinkin’ I’m ungrateful for the life I have now,” he mumbles apologetically. “You and Tommy and Ellie, and even Maria… you’ve given me a new purpose.”

“I’m sorry I was so harsh. I—I panicked.”

Tears threaten to flood your eyes again and you take a big breath in while Joel holds both your hands now.

“I saw you there unconscious and… I just…”

He pulls you in for a hug, and you finally exhale, buried in his chest.

“I just want you around for as long as possible,” you whisper. “It’s selfish, I know, but—“

“Love is selfish, I guess. That makes me selfish too.”

Eyes widened, you remove yourself from his chest to stare incredulously at him. But Joel’s face no longer seems wrecked—not to that extreme degree, at least. He seems confident in his words, whereas you probably look like you’re doubting everything you’ve ever heard.

“Did you just say—?”

Joel’s lips stretch in the slightest, revealing the beginning of a shy, small smile, and your heart flutters.

“Maybe I should’ve said something sooner,” he coos. “Thought it was obvious.”

You scoff, still unable to believe. “I do,” Joel continues. “I really do. It’s not… easy for me to say, not always. Never thought I’d say the words, ever again, but… here you are.”

“I don’t want you saying anything just because I accidentally said them.”

“Accidentally?”

“Well… I didn’t plan on saying that I love you under these circumstances or that I’d blurt them out like that, but… here you are.”

Joel chuckles, the sound so easygoing and saccharine it weakens your knees.

“That’s okay,” he replies, his mouth curling softly into a smile. “I have a better memory now for this day.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fluff #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #joel miller angst #pedro pascal angst

[fariesoiree]

hiiii it's my birthday and I was wondering if I could get a birthday hobie x reader?

hi pumpkin! first off, happy late birthday i hope you had sooooo much fun. so sorry i couldn’t get this to you on your actually birthday. i wanted to, promise! i just had a lot to do but here you go <3 celebrating your birthday w hobie. i’m hoping this makes it through tumblr bc my last drabble about rengoku is not showing up on the dash but it’s on my acc if you’re interested — hoping this is what you wanted | mdni, black fem coded reader, unedited

birthdays came up early in your relationship with hobie, especially considering his came a few months before yours. you found out rather quickly that he’s not a big fan of making the day a holiday.

of course, he’ll smile and plant a sweet a kiss on your two-toned lips when you, eventually, pull a tiny, gift wrapped gift out hidden — somewhere new every time — and set it in his hands. you do it every time, even hen he says he doesn’t want a single thing, and it’s always a relatively cheap gift so he doesn’t make a fuss about it. last year, it was a little necklace set from hot topic, modeled after the coraline movie’s stone and key — only $7.95 and thankfully, on sale.

however, your birthdays are different.

they’re important to you and therefore, important to hobie. he cherishes them, staying away from your affection all day while he prepares his boathouse for your arrival. he’ll get balloons and candles for mood lighting, he’ll go to the grocery store and pocket a box of cake mix and whipped icing, he’ll use the sprinkles from the night before. hobie will even chop up fruit and melt chocolate to dip them in later, following the creamy pasta he’s cooked for dinner just in case you didn’t feel like indulging in something as sweet as cake, that night.

that’s not dessert though. the real dessert comes after cuddling on the couch and soaking in the praises that fall from your lips between kisses until your lips are swollen and sheened with saliva. every year, he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom, where he forces you to close your eyes upon stepping through the door way. you can’t know where his hiding space is. you’re too curious and would end up investigating it in secret later on.

this year, hobie managed to get you the demonia camel-311’s. how he had gotten him through his unconventional methods is unknown to you but you don’t ask, too busy fawning over the smooth, vegan suede beneath your fingertips.

“oh my god, hobie. what the hell?” you say, seated on the end up his disheveled bed, eyes round in grateful astonishment.

hobie’s has always been . . . clean but not tidy. he knows where everything is and you understand that he has a system. the random stacks of albums littered around the room never bothered you, nor did single wall covered with painted doodles parallel to the bed you sit on.

“you like em’, bug?” he drawls, showcasing his prideful smile full of teeth as he watches you go through the motions to react to his grand gift. “i’m mates with this guy who sells em’. looks like something you’d like.” hobie doesn’t bring up the deal he made to do some manual labor instead of paying such a pretty penny for these shoes.

you head rise and falls in a little nod and you set the shoes on the floor, reaching inside to pull out the brown-gray stuffing paper to keep the molding of the shoes.

this persists for a while, your gushing and prattling over the platform boots, warm and perfect for the winter. it’s all a routine part of the night, something you’ve expected — not because you knew what gift he was going to get you, but because he always gets you material gift before and something a little more after.

the after is what you both know you’re really looking forward to, after all the events that slowly passed throughout the night.

“oh my god, hobie!” it’s the same words from earlier but this time, said so much differently. it’s whiney, airy, and provocative. you can’t help it, the sound forced out of your mouth with each snug smack of hobie’s heavy balls against the brown globes of your ass, part of which glisten with the watery cream of your past two orgasms.

hobie plucks your hand slotted against the soft outlines of his abdominal muscles on his stomach. he grins, strained, and rests your palm against his chubby lips. “you g - got it, pretty.” he mumbled into the warm skin of her hands, words muffled on their way to your ears, not that you’re paying attention anyway. “ ‘s your dick, yeah?”

anything he says just comes across as faint buzzing humming in your head. your legs have begun to shake and twitch, muscles stretched and pushed up to your ears. your cunt is on full display, in its brown and chubby glory, squeezing around the length of hobie’s cock with the intent to milk him dry.

your back has long begun to arch off the soft mattress with a balled hand repeatedly making soft contact with his shoulder. you’re struggling to withstand it, writhing beneath his hold. you’re sure you would have wiggled away and up the bed had he not had you anchored in his grip. you’re struggling but you love it, finding yourself delirious with the lust that comes with being fucked within an inch of your life.

“can’t,” you hiccup, tugging at your hand encapsulated by his. you want to draw it back and push him some more but he won’t let you, overpowering your strength with his own. tears form in the outer corners of your eyes and roll down the sides of your face.

you’re rewarded with a firm smack on the chub on your round butt, leaving a stinging sizzle that has you jolting with a gasp. another wave of waterworks comes forward in your eyes. you want to sob but the ability is ripped away when hobie digs his fingers into your mouth, as many as he can until no more can fit and drool is pooling out the corners.

“you’re, god, lyin’, pet. hate that,” he pauses, pressed entirely into your sopping wet cunt, eyeing you with disdain. his fingers press against your soft tongue, eliciting more drool to pull in your mouth. he tilts his head at the sight of you, twitching and eyes blown out.

he can still feel your pussy pulsing greedily, begging for more, and he chuckles, pulling his slob covered fingers out your mouth and taking ahold of your thighs again. “you always say that but you didn’t use your safe word so i know you’re lyin’.”

you sort of just warble, feet dangling in the air. your toes, painted a pretty pink gel polish, curl and straighten with each movement hobie makes, even if it’s just him leaning forward.

“gonna tell me i’m wrong?” hobie’s voice drops into a whisper. he’s close enough for his lips to skim across your cheek, breath warming the surface of your skin.

he’s pleased to see a small shake of your head. “no,” you’re telling him wordlessly, round eyes staring right into his more slanted ones. you’re lucky he’s considered being sweeter on such a day of celebration.

“no? then you’re gonna quit your whinnin’, right?” his hand comes to plant on the round crest of your head, flattening your scalp, frizzy due to the physical activity he’s put you through.

your leg goes to circle around his slim waist, locking his body to yours. “mhm . . . ‘m sorry, ‘bie.” you’re much softer now, more pliant without the constant push and pull inside your sensitive cunt. your circle your hands around his cheeks, brushing your thumb across the smooth, seal brown skin across his face.

the corners of his mouths lift; he finalizes your gentleness with a sloppy kiss on your mouth, wrapping his tongue around yours and sucking it into his mouth. there is stringy saliva connecting the two of you. his hand atop your head serves its purpose when hobie finally begins to move again, thrusting deep in your cunt. it keeps you right where he wants you despite your wriggling.

his other hand supports his weight, jumbling the sheets between his fingers. his head falls onto the bed beside yours and you have a front row seat to the groans and pants he exudes, lost in your body.

every year when your birthday comes around, hobie picks you up, bring you to his house, and showers you in love and affection throughout the night. he makes dinner, lights your birthday candles, and watches any movies of your choice.

every year, he surprises you with a gift he had planned for months and pulls it from his super secret hiding spot. he soaks in your flattery with a grin until you’re done and putting the new gift to use.

and every year, you both wrestle in the sheets, naked bodies connected at the most intimate parts as the air grows thick and heavy with lust. he kisses you through your whines and cries, forcing blinding white orgasms out your body until you’re exhausted and tapping out.

#⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 . . . 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 . . . 𝜗𝜚⋆ #hobie x black!reader #hobie smut #hobie brown #x black fem reader #astv hobie #x black reader #x reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n

[svmjaeyvn]

love maze, s.jy.

chapter two pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

add yourself to the taglist here!

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER TWO: INTOXICATING

previous masterlist next

word count: 1.9k

warnings: alcohol, partying, mentions of yeonjun for funzies, jake thinking with his dick even after what just happened so sort of questionable???

a/n: bare with me i’m trying to build the plot a little bit

YOU DIDN’T KNOW how you ended up back at the frat house. Truly, the party was in full swing and after dealing with the encounter that you did, it would've made the most sense to go home and cry it all out, maybe eat some ice cream for dinner and watch a few romcoms. But that wasn't the case due to Yunjin sending you a text saying how she wouldn't be coming home for the night, the date seemingly going well and you didn't have it in you to ruin her night by telling her of yours.

Thus, uncomfortable with being left alone, you opted to go the other route and surround yourself with as many people as possible. Though, the boys hadn't wandered far, keeping you in sight at all times and Jay particularly staying by your side no matter how many times you told him to still enjoy himself knowing how much of a social butterfly he was a majority of the time. Your work uniform was disregarded in his room, changed into a spare pair of flare jeans and lacy top to fit in with the party, courtesy of the few clubbing nights you went to with him and ended up spending the night, leaving your clothes in his dirty laundry after stealing large hoodies and sweats.

All bad things could be washed away with alcohol, or so they said. Thus, you were on your fourth round of shots in the last 30 minutes with a random group who made their way in the kitchen, never one to have been a lightweight but typically better at timing your drinking. Jay was growing particularly antsy by your actions, knowing you were acting out of the need to forget but he didn't want to let you drink irresponsibly.

"Why don't you slow down a bit, yeah teeny?" Jay asks, leaned close to your ear for you to hear over the loud blaring of music. Attempting to take away the can of Twisted Tea, something you typically hated by the taste but tonight didn't seem to care, while you pull it back with a pointed look.

"I'm fine," You emphasize, words clear and steady, the alcohol not hitting you yet much to your relief. Glancing around, you make eye contact with the umpteenth girl who had been shooting daggers your way for keeping Jay occupied thus far. "If you don't go away I'm gonna end up getting jumped tonight by your fangirls," You add with a small snort.

Jay followed your gaze, turning to the girl who's face morphed from a glare into a sickenly sweet smile as she waved at him with a bite of her lip, attempting to be seductive but he merely snorts at the gesture. "Pretty sure she got chlamydia from a dude in the drama department,"

You scrunched up your nose, finding the information one you didn't need to know. "At least you know better than to fuck anyone that offers," Taking a long sip of your drink once more, the slight burn in your throat becoming easier to bare. "Alright, I'm gonna go dance. You go do anything else,"Jay shakes his head almost immediately causing you to send him a bored look. "I'm fine dude, honest. You need to stop worrying so much. Nothing actually happened,"

"You're not in the right headspace," He protests but you let out a small snort.

"Jesus, dude, you act like an overprotective brother,"

"I am!" Jay defends while you shake your head.

"We're not even related!" You shoot back but his jaw drops in offense.

"We were born a week apart, our moms have been friends since high school. We're basically twins, I know you better than yourself," He lists off, deeply concerned by the way you were disregarding your twins in another life theory that your families always joked of since you were young.

"I'm definitely not your twin, you know why?" You start, standing up from the kitchen island with a small smirk playing at your lips. Your head began to feel fuzzy, the start of your buzz coming and the tension from earlier leaving you slowly but surely. "I'm hotter," You finish, a cocky look playing at your features while Jay rolls his eyes.

"Right, and which one of us gets laid?"

"Hey!" You hiss, waggling a finger in his direction. "I don't hook up by choice. Y'all are nasty,"

"And because you're a hermit who doesn't see the light of day," He snickers causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

Decidedly having enough of the banter, you merely spin on the heels of your feet. "Bye Jay!" You call over your shoulder making your way toward the living room which was lively and loud, body's meshed together and dancing to whatever song that was blaring through the speakers that sounded through the house.

Jay let out a sigh of defeat, pulling out his phone to do a headcount of where everyone was. Thankfully, Heeseung and Jake were in the general area you were, him asking them to keep an eye on you for the time being and getting a thumbs up in response.

Heeseung was on the dance floor, a random girl he never met before tonight swaying herself pressed up against his hips. He looked lively, a few more shots in and just wanting to mess around for the time being. You spotted the tall boy momentarily in the jumble of people who nodded over to you ensuring that you were okay, a nod you returned reassuring him and he took it as enough to go back to his business.

Meanwhile, Jake was on the sidelines, leaned up against the wall as he spotted you the moment you walked over. Far too caught up with the events from earlier, he found it hard to enjoy himself, feeling partially sorry for you but also having an unpleasant pit in his stomach, not necessarily angry but he couldn't exactly pinpoint it.

He continued to sip at the cup of punch Jungwon had conducted up, only drinking it due to how excited the younger boy was of his creation but it was entirely too strong for anyone to stomach more than one cup.

His eyes continued to glance over you, taking in each of your curves that was showed off by the tightness of your jeans. They hugged your ass in the right places, emphasizing the perky shape before beginning to flare out from the knee down. The lacy black top was cropped, showing a good portion of your stomach due to the mid rise of your pants, the deep v-plunge neckline providing more to the imagination in seeing your breast that were pushed up with your bra. The shiny gleam that came off of your naval piercing catching Jake by surprise, having to do a double take to ensure he was seeing things correctly.

You were attractive, that was obvious enough. Although slightly shameful, he couldn't help but rake his eyes over you, thoughts filling his head imagining what it would be like to have you under him, staring up with that daze-y doe eyed look that would make him bend to of any of your desires.

But there was a problem with that. He wasn't the only one with eyes, able to see you and the way you swayed your body to the music, your tiny waist and full thighs that he wanted to die between if so lucky. Jake took note of the few guys who's glances began to wander toward you, even ones who had already claimed their fuck buddies for the night and danced alongside them all while drooling at you who danced by yourself.

He watched as a familiar face make his way toward you. Choi Yeonjun, cool dude to be friends with, horrible guy to date. His reputation preceded him in more ways than one, notorious for stringing girls along week by week and the worst part was they knew of his doings. It was embarrassing how they fought to be his newest toy for the day, a sort of achievement to the girls he's strung along to say they've ticked hooking up with Yeonjun off their list.

Yeah, not happening. Jake didn't know if it was due to him still feeling protective due to you unintentionally calling him for help, or rather the more sinful thoughts that passed through his head moments ago and not wanting to sit and watch you to become a new trophy to a guy like Choi Yeonjun.

Picking himself up from where he was leaned back, Jake took a large swig of his now lukewarm concoction of liquors. Weaving his way through the crowd, he pushes his way to you just as Yeonjun stops in front of your view.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Jake leans close to your ear. "Go along with it," He whispers, catching you by surprise as you were previously engrossed by the music in your own little world, unaware that two of the most lusted over guys at the party were having a silent debate over you at the moment.

Feeling the alcohol now coursing through your bloodstream, you obliged by Jake's words. Continuing on without a word of protest, though you did take the red solo cup from his hand and took a sip from it as you adapted to dancing with him now. Scrunching up your nose upon the drink hitting your tongue, you look at Jake with an incredulous look of disgust in his beverage choices causing him to laugh.

"Jungwon made it," He explains with a small shrug, leaning dangerously close to your face as his breath lightly fanned against your lips. Peering over your shoulder, a small smirk plays at his features seeing as Yeonjun had disappeared from your sight, decidedly giving up on any sort of chance he was attempting to have with you for the night.

"It sucks," You respond back and yet still take another sip, this time longer as you quickly swallow it without time for it to settle on your tongue. Jake's smile turns into one of amusement, watching as you handled the alcohol as if it were nothing before you placed the cup back in his hold. "You either dance with me or go away, your pissing contest with that dude is over now,"

Jake raised a brow. "Pissing contest?"

"You know, marking territory that's not yours," You shoot back, a bored look sent to him as he sheepishly shrugs. "I don't need you being protective like Jay. For one, we barely know each other and two, I'm not that much of an idiot to hook up with Choi Yeonjun no matter how badly I need to get laid. So you either shut up and dance with me or you go away,"

Already rather blunt as it was, the second you got alcohol in your system you tended to be more unfiltered than necessary. Jake finds amusement in your confession but your eyes seem so certain. Though the slight gleam in them as you looked up caused his stomach to do a flip, one that caused him to not think clearly.

Jake didn't respond, instead his arm slips down from your shoulders down to your waist, snaking around and encasing your body against his own. A small smile perks at your lips, sighing blissfully at his lack of commentary and rather allowing you to do as pleased.

"Good choice," You mumble out, breath fanning against his neck as your arms lazily drape from his neck, brining your bodies dangerously close to one another though neither of you minded.

After all, having a little fun with a hot guy never hurt anyone, right?

#enhypen jake #jaeyun x reader #jaeyun smut #jake sim #enhypen #sim jaeyun