#I'm really happy with how this turned out!

[reiderwriter]

hii I absolutely love your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a one shot with gun kink? maybe not really something *aggressive* but just gun kink in the plot !! and please smut with no angst, also maybe aftercare in the end? it's totally okay if you're not comfortable. im loving your kinktober one shots! have a good day :)

A/N: This being one of like... three gun kink requests I've received, we are all not seeing the pearly gates lmao. If you enjoy reading this, even 50% of how much I enjoyed writing it, then I'm happy 😚

Warnings: Undercover FBI Agent reader, gun kink, interrogation room sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some BDSM themes, Spencer has to 'rough up' the reader etc.

Masterlist

Being rough-housed by a group of FBI agents and pushed against a wall before being handcuffed was never your idea of a fun Tuesday night. It wasn't exactly high on the list for any night of the week, really, but here you were. 

“Caitlyn Grant? You're under arrest for being an accessory to a felony and evading law enforcement, whatever you say…” You drowned out the rest of the statement. It was nothing you didn't have memorized. 

“You're not the usual drug crew, and you don't look sturdy enough to be on most of the other teams either. What part of the Bureau are you in?” You asked the lanky man currently pinning you to the wall as he made sure your handcuffs were aptly tight. 

“You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one-” 

“I waive my rights. It's not human trafficking. You wouldn't be working this case if you were human trafficking.” 

The man just stared at you in vague disapproval as you grinned back at him. His closeness meant you could see every detail of his face up close, the five o'clock shadow, the dark circles from lack of sleep. On most of the agents you'd encountered, it had the effect of making them look older, a little haggard, and depressed. On this man, it was honestly very hot. 

He started your pat down by spreading your legs, though honestly, if he'd asked nicely enough, you'd have done just that for him. You near enough told him just that as he reached the two pockets on the ass of your jeans. 

“Watch it, Agent, my bite is worse than my bark.” 

“Turn around.” 

You pouted at his solid resolve, wondering what it would take to get the man to crack a smile or even a frown. Something that wasn't just disinterest slapped on a face and called a day. 

You did as he asked, making sure your body pressed nicely up against his the entire way until your shoulders were resting on the wall and he was feeling along your waist. 

“Come on, what kind of weapon are you going to find there?”

“Standard protocol, please let me do my job.”

“Standard protocol is calling one of your female agents over here to maintain the boundary, Agent. This feels more like you're just trying to cop a feel.” 

Those words finally got a reaction. The subtle clench of the jaw as his hands tightened slightly on your waist had you suddenly regretting your decision to be put in handcuffs. Your hands should've been free to tuck the stray lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes behind his ear, free so your fingernails could trace a path down his face and neck and chest. 

His gaze landed on the simple silver chain you wore around your list and he delicately pulled it out of your shirt, careful not to touch you (and avoiding you even as you arched your back into him). 

With a quick tug, he pulled the necklace clean off your neck, not pausing to bother with the clasp at all. 

“Clever boy. I'll see you in the interrogation room, shall I?” He said nothing as the female agents you'd mentioned earlier stationed themselves on either side of you as you walked away. You didn't break eye contact until the doors to the police van closed behind you. 

Six months undercover on a case, and this was the first time you'd stepped foot in a police precinct since you'd ditched your real name and life. 

The interrogation rooms hadn't changed in that time, at least, still grey and depressing. Time felt void as you waited for company, and thankfully, you weren't waiting long.

“Agent Y/N, sorry about the arrest, we wanted to make it look as real as possible while pulling you out.” The woman who greeted you obviously held the authority, and while you wanted to respect that, the sight of the man trailing behind her actually caught her full attention. 

“Pleasure to meet you….?” You let the question hang open for both of them but kept your gaze fully focused on the man, who stood himself next to the door, keeping surprisingly quiet. 

“I'm Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, we're from the-” 

“Behavioural Analysis Unit, of course. I was close, you know, earlier. A face like yours wouldn't last five minutes in cartel land. I almost guessed cyber, but you looked a bit too bookish. Doctor Reid, hmm.” 

“This interview is taking place with Agent Prentiss. Please direct all your questions to her.”

“Oh shit, sorry, where are my manners. I didn't mean to disrespect you like that, Agent Prentiss. It's just been a long few months.”

The other woman just chuckled and shook her head, leafing through some documents to pass you over the information on the case they needed assistance on. 

“We think there's a serial killer in the drug ring you infiltrated,” the woman explained, passing over the files with the case details. You took a moment's breath before opening to the crime scene photos, steeling yourself for what you might encounter. 

“There are probably a lot of serials in the organization. It's a drug ring. What makes this one worse?” You said, just as you flipped the file open and answered your own question. 

“Shit- Okay, that's what makes this one worse. He can't be more than 15, right?” 

The answering grimace on the two agents' faces suggested you'd been generous in your estimate. “Okay, how can I help?” 

xxxxx 

A few hours passed in the interrogation room, and you'd walked them through all of your up to date information on your case and cover. The chair wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were glad to be finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The interview was ending, and you could see an end to your undercover work swiftly following too with the BAU's assistance. 

You weren't looking forward to having to acclimatize back into the real world. You'd gone from pushing papers at a desk 9 hours a day to rubbing shoulders with drug dealers and junkies, a lot of whom were kids, young people like you who had no other options than the streets and crime. 

You made a mental note to give a few warnings to the younger kids on the streets to stay alert and then started getting back into character. 

“Thanks again for your help, Agent. We appreciate your time.” Prentiss nodded at you as she gathered the folders, getting ready to leave. 

Spencer Reid stood, too, stretching himself out as he rose from the chair, giving you quite the show as your eyes dragged from his face, down his chest and down further still as you appreciated the view. 

The last few hours had been strictly professional, and you'd enjoyed bouncing ideas off of him, running through theories. Now, trying to get back into your ‘lusty barmaid’ persona, you thought instead about how much you'd like to bounce on him yourself, possibly while running your hands through his hair. 

A girl could dream. 

“Hold on a second, I'm still in cover, I can't go back out there looking this pristine, it's too suspicious,” you said, the two agents turning back to you curiously. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Someone needs to throw me around a little. Rough housing, you know, a few bruises will do it.” 

Prentiss looked at you, caught halfway between impressed and amused. The good Doctor however seemed to darken slightly, covering his shock with a tensed jaw. 

“She's all yours, Spencer,” Wmily winked at the man, turning the door handle and beginning her exit.

“What? Why?” 

“I don't hit women.” 

“And I do? Emily, wha-” 

But the door to the interrogation room has already closed with a small cackle, and you're already being drawn closer to the man like a moth to a flame. 

Turning to face you, you see the shock of the situation on his face before he looks away in a flash, refusing to meet your eyes as he keeps himself close to the door. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm not actually a criminal, you know?” 

“I thought you wanted one of us to treat you like a criminal now.” 

“You make a good point, shall we begin?” 

He signed and rubbed his temples as you advanced, letting you get a little bit closer before holding his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, wait, tell me first, what should we be doing?” 

You took a deep breath and expelled it, then took the time to think about it. 

You would need some visible marks of the FBI's unkindness - wrists red, a bruise or two on your knees, maybe, from falling. The problem was, you couldn't think about how to get the marks without driving yourself insane. 

There was a quick and easy way to get tender knees, an even easier way to mark up your neck and chest, but you couldn't figure out how to ask Spencer Reid to do those things without spreading your legs and letting him do whatever he wanted. You weren't sure you wouldn't do that eventually, anyway.

“Let's start with my wrists. You were too generous with the handcuffs earlier - just grab them really tight, pin me against the wall if it helps.”

He nodded and took a hesitant step towards you, thinking for a second, before grabbing one wrist and spinning you around. Before you could even process the action, he had you pinned, chest against the wall, arms above your head. 

“Is that okay?” He asked, his grip tight  but not bruising yet. 

“A little tighter, I want the marks to last a while. Why is my face against the wall?” 

He gripped tighter, the pain sending a jolt through your wrists that trailed all the way down to pool between your thighs. 

“I thought you'd be less uncomfortable like this.” 

“With your dick pushed up against my ass? Yes, Doctor, great decision.” 

He let out a cold, quick laugh, leaving you flushed as he pushed your upper body into the wall, too, finally getting to the grip strength he needed to get attention. 

“I'm sorry to disappoint, Y/N, but that's my gun,” the words whispered in your ear were the last straw as you shuddered in his grasp, his hands releasing your wrists as he stepped back a little. 

You shook out your hands a little, trying to momentarily relive the stiffness in your joints. 

He took a few paces to the desk and upholstered his weapon, placing it on the desk before joining you again. 

“So you don't get confused again,” he explained at seeing your raised eyebrow. 

“Oh so next time, it will be your dick?” You whispered, moving back to the desk and sitting yourself on the edge or it, picking up the gun and studying it for a few minutes. 

“Y/N, put it down.” 

“Ooh, possessive, are we?” You giggled, aiming it at him for a second before grabbing it by the barrel and holding it back out for him to grab. 

“Hold it, point it at me or whatever. Maybe it'll help you rough me up.” 

His brow furrowed, but he grabbed it anyway, not immediately slipping it into the holster as he stepped forward. 

“What now?” He asked, and you shrugged. 

“Whatever feels natural. And looks visible, I guess.”

It took him a few minutes to decide, surveying your body like it was a puzzle. Professionally, of course. You were about to speak up and urge him to get on with it when his hand shot out and wrapped around your throat. 

You tried to gasp, but the grip was firm, and boy, was it driving you crazy. Your legs had naturally parted as you sat yourself on the edge of the desk, and he walked into that space now, his free hand still holding the gun. 

Your body pushed forward into his, suddenly awash with arousal as your chest heaved with tiny breaths, lungs burning. 

“Are you enjoying this, Y/N? Or is it Caitlyn Grant that's enjoying this?” 

You felt the gun touch your thigh gently, and you moaned, just as he softened his grip on your throat. 

“Answer me, please. This is an interrogation room, after all.”

You met his eyes, checking to see how far he would take this, how far you could push back. 

“I'll admit, I'm not against mixing pain and pleasure.” 

His gaze flicked down, slowly pushing his gun up the skin of your thigh, raising your skirt with the barrel to catch a quick glimpse of your panties. 

“I can tell.” 

If it weren't for his grip on you, you'd have lunged for him right then and there. The cool metal against your thigh had you shuddering against him, growing wetter by the minute. 

“I read somewhere once that we can't pretend to be someone else without actually becoming them in some small way. You've been a cartel whore for six months, I wonder if this is a lasting effect.” 

He was so close now all he needed to do to close the gap was change the angle of his head, but he kept you in place with that gun, pointing up from your pussy, flush against your stomach. 

“I'll tell you a secret - the part of me that's aroused right now definitely predates this cover.” 

His lips drop to yours, tongue clashing with yours furiously as he grabs the back of your head to angle you better. 

Letting his hand drop back to your thigh, he gently coaxed you further open, skirt riding up. Putting down the gym momentarily, he pressed a wandering finger against your pantie-clad pussy, feeling your arousal before he used it to coat his fingers. 

A second later and the offending pair of underwear lay discarded on the floor. 

“Fuck, Spencer,” you said, gasping for breath as he again picked up the gun. 

“You wanted this so badly, didn't you? You've been needing someone to treat you like this for months now. It didn't even have to be me.” 

He traced circles on your thigh with the gun, and you twitched, years of training not letting you relax around the weapon and months of sexual frustration, making you desperate for something to touch you. 

“Yes, yes, please touch me.” 

The hand at your throat slid down to your chest and pushed gently  urging you to lie back and let him do whatever he wanted with you. The desk was cold - metal biting at your bare skin - and it only sent more shivers down your spine as he lowered himself to his knees and parted your legs for his tongue. 

The first touch was heaven, a state of bliss you'd been without in what felt like forever. His tongue danced across your folds as he tasted every inch of your exposed cunt, grip still strong on the gun pointed now to your chest, pinning you between the machine and the table. 

You tried to be as still as possible, to take the pleasure he gave calmly, but you couldn't. You writhed, moaned, chest heaving as you tried to hold off the first orgasm you'd achieved with someone else in probably a year.  

Like a man on a mission, Spencer Reid did not care. He gladly suffocated between your thighs as you squeezed them together, wrapping them around his head so you could keep feeling the insurmountable pleasure of his tongue on your pussy. 

“Spencer…Spencer, fuck-” you said as he finally pried your legs apart, lifting them just slightly so his tongue could reach further inside of you, curling with each wave of passion. Your hands fisted his hair, desperate for something to ground you to the moment as your pleasure spilt out of you, orgasm jolting through you in tiny sparks of pleasure. 

The gun moved first, coming level with your chest as you untangled your fingers from his hair. Spencer stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he kept the gun on you. 

“I think this turns you on even more. You've been ruined by this cover, Y/N, you're so used to being in danger that you can't even get off without someone threatening you.” 

You attempted to scoff, to brush off his words somehow, but his hand was suddenly back around your throat, picking you up off the desk and pulling you instead towards the room's one-way window. 

“Look at yourself,” he said, again twisting you around so you were pressed into the wall, wrists above your hair, raising your shirt to expose the cold skin underneath. He ran the barrel across the fresh skin, leaving a field of goosebumps along his path. 

“I don't think it would've mattered who came in to rough you up. I think you'd just as happily have convinced Emily to fuck your little pussy raw, right Y/N? As long as there was a gun…” 

Your moan was the only response as he used the weapon to spread your legs. You naturally arched your back and kept your hands in place as he holstered the weapon momentarily to unzip his pants and let his cock free. 

You couldn't see it, but you saw his reflection in the mirror as he slowly stretched you out with it, mouth dropping in a lustful ‘o’ as he fed his dick to you, hard and thick. 

As soon as it was in, the gun came back out, this time to rest against your temple. 

“Get yourself off,” his voice was so low it was practically a growl. “Use my cock, and pleasure yourself.” 

Your body listened immediately, beginning to move back and forth on his cock as he held himself in place. His moans and groans were all the encouragements you needed, the gun at your temple was just made the pleasure more profound as you approached your release. 

But he kept you pinned to the glass, your full range of motion limited, and you whimpered in frustration that you couldn't feel every inch of him. 

“If you need something, use your words, Agent.” 

“More, need more, please..please,” you gasped, breathing ragged. 

The hands at your wrists released, and he fisted a hand into the flesh at your hip, your wrists resting on the glass next to your face as he took over your thrusting. 

“Can't even do this anymore, what a spoiled little whore,” he said as his hips began snapping into you, reaching that spot deep inside you as you drooled against the glass, wondering if anyone had just happened to step into that room and what they must think about you. 

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock,” he said it, and entranced, your body did just that, your orgasm taking the last breath of strength you had as he too plunged himself deeper and stilled there, his cum coating your walls. 

Neither of you moved for an eternity, but the first sign of clarity returning was the careful return of the gun to the holster. 

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Spencer minimized the mess you made together, cleaning you up as he slipped out of you. Discarding it momentarily on the floor, he pulled your clothes back into position and led you back over to the chairs. Just as he moved to sit you down, though, you turned and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. 

His arms hung suspended for a minute or two before he let them rest on your back, stroking your hair. 

“Sorry, it's been… it's been lonely, and I didn't realize how hard it had been until-” 

“It's okay. Take your time,” he said, sitting down in the chair and letting you curl up in his lap, burying your head in his neck

“We’ll catch this guy, and then you're out, okay Y/N? We'll come back and get you out soon.” 

Lifting your eyes to his, you nodded, pressing your lips to his with a smile as you again worked yourself back into character, regaining your earlier composure and lifting yourself from the man's too comfortable arms. 

“Well, Spencer, what do you say we get me back into panties and handcuffs and cut Caitlyn Grant loose?” 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

It Was Just A Joke - LN

Request from @louicoy - I wanted to ask for something with Lando, like a troll, like the reader pretends to be pregnant and tells Lando in an anguished way as if she were afraid of his reaction, but he's super cute and is delighted with the idea, but then the reader says that It's trolling and he gets upset and it's just really cute!

Themes: suggestions of smut (no actual smut), grumpy Lando

No part 2 requests please

Y/n and Lando are no stranger to pranks, in fact they don't just prank each other but they troll followers online.

Today y/n is decided to be a bit of a troll and tease what she thought was obviously a joke. Especially since she's on her period so pregnancy is without a doubt, out of the question as a possibility.

"Do you think I'm getting fat?" Y/n asks while looking at her bloated tummy which is actually bloated because of her period. To hell with being a girl, what sort of unfair existence punishes you for not being pregnant?

"What?" Lando frowns head snapping up.

"Fat. Do you think I'm getting fat?" Y/n states turning to him slightly pouted.

"No. I think you're perfect."

"Of course you do...I should just ask your fans if they think I'm getting fat."

"They'll lie...Are you ok?" Lando questions since usually y/n is the last person to make a bitter comment about his fans, even if a lot of them do feel it's their business to comment on her body and diet.

"Lando, I have to tell you something and I need you to just remain calm and not freak out." Y/n states aware that she's got her phone set up recording them. She often records herself just for ootds or little mini vlogs that she likes to post on her accounts.

"Ok." Lando hums placing his own phone down while she sighs and swallows sitting down in front of him and smiling awkwardly as she links their hands.

There's a brief pause that she spends just quiet and paused before she clears her throat.

"I really need you to understand that I completely understand if you need time to just process this or if you're...unsupportive of it. I mean we're at a point in our relationship where I never expected this sort of thing to happen-"

"Baby, what on earth is going on? Can you please just tell me? You said not to freak out and now you're saying everything that makes me feel like freaking out." Lando states feeling on edge and clearly not assuming what a lot of guys would assume and fear. "You're not dying are you?"

"Oh god! No-I'm pregnant." Y/n splutters out actually feeling bad over the fact she's now lying. The extreme reaction of him thinking she might be dying was bad enough and now she's just lied to him.

"You're pregnant?" Lando frowns for a moment before bursting into a blindingly bright beaming grin, she almost leans back from just how happy he seems. "We're going to have a baby? Really?"

Oh shit.

He was supposed to be scared and nervous and unsure. Why is he so happy?

"Baby! That's amazing." Lando grins capturing her face between her hands and kissing her a couple times. "We can-"

"I'm so sorry..." Y/n states trying to laugh it off making his body's buzzing with excitement still suddenly.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. It was just a prank. I didn't-I didn't think you'd be this happy." Y/n mumbles then laughing. "Baby, since when are you so eager to be a dad?"

"So you're not pregnant?"

"No. God, the bloating and slightly pudgy belly is from my period. I thought you'd catch on and call me out on it..." Y/n states feeling very much guilty about it it. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd be so happy."

Maybe unsurprisingly, the next 2 days earn her the cold shoulder and she's all but ignored by the McLaren driver. She also ended up deleting the video since uploading that when Lando was so upset about it not being true felt very much in bad taste.

"Lando...please...I'm sorry." Y/n pouts as she walks into his sim/gaming room. "I really didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know." Lando mutters still unwilling to properly talk about it.

"Can you please come cuddle with me? I want to talk to you about something important...and have your full attention, not talk to the side of your face."

"How do I know it's not just another prank?"

"Lando...baby." Y/n mumbles earning a sigh as he finally caves in and moves with her, taking her held out hand still in a very glum matter before he allows her to lead them to the sofa. He's pushed down to sit side ways and finds her lying on top of him. "I think we need to have a serious talk."

"About what?"

Y/n almost wants to jab him with a pointed finger for purposely being ignorant to the obvious. Though him softly playing with some stray strands of her hair. Even when he's mad, he can't help but have those soft touches. He's also not been very affectionate and her forcing him to cuddle with her reminds him just how much he actually loves physically touching her in any way possible.

"If we...actually talk about kids and having them. Maybe we could discuss when is a good time to maybe try and actually have kids and maybe...if we're ready now."

"I'm ready now-but if you're not then I can wait." Lando rushes out maybe more ready for this conversation than he wanted to let on.

"Well right now would be a bit hard...I'm still on my period. So the success rate would be low. But maybe once it's over...I could actually stop taking my birth control since that's the main reason I'm not getting pregnant and we could definitely give it a good go." Y/n hums with a smile feeling Lando's fingers tracing her jaw. "I mean I'm not going to complain about more sex with my boyfriend."

"No. You never have before." Lando smirks then nodding. "You'll look good pregnant with my baby."

"Your baby."

"Our baby...So picky."

"Mmm...if it's as annoying as you, I'll probably call them your baby more than mine." Y/n jokes finally moving further up his body to be level with him and kiss him softly. "So...baby making begins in a few days."

"Yes. Aggressively frequent baby making." Lando confirms clearly feeling victorious.

"Can't believe I've just agreed to get myself pregnant all because I joked about being pregnant...you are going to get me fat."

"Yep, and I'm not sorry for it. If you let me, I'll be doing it more than once too." Lando smirks pulling her up to straddle him, sucking in a breath as he holds her waist to slightly grind her down on himself. "Maybe we should get some free practice in. Just for most effective technique."

"Lando...I'm still on my period..." Y/n grimaces never a fan of the thought of period sex.

"Mmm...fine. But you know I don't care."

"I know, you know this isn't the first offer you've made."

"I heard orgasms are meant to help with cramps." Lando states pulling the random piece of information he probably learned from some post online to hopefully work in his favour. "I'm just saying."

"In that case...maybe just this once." Y/n hums leaning down to kiss him.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando #norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris angst #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #ln4 #ln4 angst #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #ln4 x y/n #ln4 one shot #ln4 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 angst

[swiftispunk]

spring breaks loose | joel miller x f!reader

a your summer dream one shot

your summer dream masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | follow @swiftispunkupdates and turn on notifications for updates

It's spring, you're young, you're lovely, you have a right to be happy. Come back into the world.

–Shirley Jackson, We Have Always Lived in the Castle

prev | next

pairing: joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ word count: 11.2k

series warnings etc: [NO OUTBREAK] we'll call him dad's buddy!joel, fairly soft!joel, age difference (28/50), angst, smut (will specify with each chapter), fluff, alcohol, food, secret relationship until it's not.

chapter summary: building bridges and starting fresh. it's springtime in austin. chapter warnings: smut, lots of fluff, a sprinkling of angst, consensual somnophilia, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, squirting, vaginal fingering, oral (m receiving), alcohol + intoxication, reader is so very eepy, food, discussions of infidelity, a whole lot of dialogue and tying up loose ends, heather comes with her own warning, in this house we hate chris, time hop, pov swapping. no use of y/n.

a/n: we have reached the penultimate chapter of ysd (for real this time). thank you to everyone who has stuck around this long. thank you to @frannyzooey for helping me work out a few things in this chapter, @joelscruff for beta'ing, and @5oh5, who offered me plant guidance many moons ago now. i also wanted to just boost the fact that i do have a kofi account, and while there is never any pressure to tip, life is hard rn and i always always appreciate the help. love ya'll sm.

*lastly: be sure to see the very end of this post for a special SNEAK PEEK of the upcoming final chapter of your summer dream.

january

-

"I'm really happy," you insist, and in spite of it all, Joel's lips twitch up at the corners. You've told him how happy you are about a thousand times, but watching you confidently profess it to your father is something else entirely. 

"I'm really happy, okay?" you repeat, firm as you stare down the man across from him. Your father's face remains unchanged, stoic and blank as he nods. Joel swallows tightly as you nod back, and then you're gone.

Neither of the men utter a word until the back door swings shut behind you. Joel can feel your father's eyes on him, but he can't bring himself to meet them. He should say something. He clears his throat but then–   

"Joel...since Costa Rica?" your father asks. He doesn't sound angry, Joel notes. No, he sounds…hurt. 

At last, Joel looks up from the table, and your father stares back at him with obvious confusion in his eyes. Confusion and–as Joel had imagined–hurt. 

Joel sighs. 

"Yeah," he nods solemnly, shifting in his seat. "Yes."

Your dad just shakes his head, and Joel can practically see the cogs turning in his mind, playing back those days at the resort, piecing it all together in real time. 

"That whole time we were there, you–?"

"No–" Joel cuts him off. "Not…not the whole time."

Like that makes it better. Your father doesn't look at him, still lost in thought, still shaking his head defiantly. 

"I was…we were right across the hall. You–all that sneaking around–we–you–"

His rambling dissolves into incoherent sputtering until Joel finally chimes in again.

"I'm sorry," he says, and then he's shaking his head too, like he's just as much in disbelief about the whole thing as his best friend is. And he is, really. Couldn't believe it then, can hardly believe it now. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Goddamnit, Joel," your father suddenly exclaims, a palm coming down hard on the tabletop. His anger seems to catch up with him, as though Joel's quiet apology had somehow been the final nail in the coffin. "She's Sarah's age! I mean, that–that's my daughter!"

Joel swallows and sniffs back a heated flow of emotion. He knows he deserves it, deserves every bit of your father's ire. But that doesn't mean it doesn't sting, that feeling of being scolded by his oldest friend in the world. He shrinks a bit and crosses his arms over his chest defensively.

But he doesn't actually defend himself at all. For some reason, he digs the hole deeper. Maybe he's tired of lying. 

"Younger," he grumbles, staring down at his hands. 

"What?"

Joel clears his throat, cautiously daring to meet your father's accusatory glare. 

"She's younger than Sarah."

There's a long and painful beat of silence as your father sits back in his chair with a heavy, exasperated sigh. 

"What the hell is this, Joel?" he demands. Still biting, still cold, though not quite as infuriated. 

Joel seizes the opportunity. He leans forward, elbows on the table, pleading. Where to begin? He thinks about what he'd want to hear if the roles were reversed–and starts there.

"Everythin' was mutual, right from the start–I swear," Joel begins. "And I...I mean, I couldn't even remember the last time I seen her before that day at the airport. I ain't never even thought about her like that before. Then we were–spendin' all this time together, which you wanted us to do–"

"Uh-uh, don't you go puttin' this on me," your dad cuts in. "You know damn well this ain't what I had in mind."

Joel nods. 

"I know, I know," he agrees. "I didn't mean–sorry."

Your father doesn't respond. Joel sighs.

"Listen, she was hurtin', man–you don't know the half of what that boy did to her," Joel attempts to reason. "We got to talkin' about it all and I...I just wanted to be there for her, you know? And, sure, there was attraction there, she's a beautiful girl–"

"Alright, alright, alright," your father interrupts again, grimacing. "I don't need to hear about all that."

Joel nods again, swallowing back the words he'd been about to say–that the attraction had, miraculously, flown both ways. That you'd wanted him just as much as he'd wanted you. That he never would have sought you out if he hadn't known that was true. 

He contemplates his next words carefully. 

"Look, it wasn't right to keep it from you," Joel concedes eventually. "We–or, I–got caught up in it. You think I expected this? I mean she just–," Joel shakes his head, lost for words again as his cheeks warm and his lips curl into this fond little smile when he thinks of how completely and quickly you'd made a home for yourself in his heart, "She took me by surprise, man. But you know what it's like when you got a good thing goin'. You don't wanna risk losin' it."

Your dad just frowns, his mouth seemingly fused into a hard, unforgiving line. 

"Costa Rica was months ago, Joel."

Joel sighs. 

"I know. I know, okay? I wanted to tell you sooner. But she wasn't ready for that and I wasn't gonna go against her wishes."

Your father's jaw ticks as he chews on the inside of his cheek, thinking. Coldly assessing the man across from him like he's seeing him for the very first time. Joel crumbles under that stare, hates how it feels coming from someone he's known so long. 

"You know me, man," Joel pleads, wide eyes boring desperately into your father's. "You know me. When have I ever gone for someone younger? When have I ever even wanted that?"

Your father's face doesn't change but he also doesn't argue, so Joel goes on.

"All I wanna do–all I have ever wanted to do for that girl–is take care of her. And I-I know maybe it's…uncomfortable–"

Your father scoffs at the understatement of the century, and Joel can't help the way his own lips twitch upwards too. It's a moment of genuine camaraderie, of two fathers well aware of the absurdity of their situation. Their matching grins quickly fade, but nevertheless, Joel feels somewhat more at ease when he next speaks. 

"–but it's real," Joel concludes, "What we got. S'hard as it is to understand–and believe me, I ain't even sure I understand it, but…"

His voice trails off into a pensive sigh, mirrored by your father. There's another stretch of silence, but the air feels less tense now, a little less thick with disdain. Again, Joel ponders what he'd want to hear if he was in your father's shoes. What would give him the peace of mind to know this was okay?

"I'm…" he starts to say, but he's shocked to find the words get caught in his throat, obstructed by a sudden lump of emotion. He grunts past it, straightening his spine and squaring his shoulders while your father looks on with furrowed brows. 

"I'm in love with her," Joel finally manages, voice low and laced with devotion. 

It's infinitesimal, but Joel could swear he sees your father's eyes soften. 

"I ain't told her that yet," he continues. "But I think she knows. I think she's a smart girl, and I think she knows this is real, too. Hell, I don't think she'd'a stuck around this long if she didn't think I was serious about her. And so, I…I think you gotta trust her on this one. Even if you don't wanna trust me."

Your father crosses his arms over his chest and takes another long, weighty sigh. 

"Jesus Christ, Joel," he mutters, shaking his head down at the table. But it doesn't sound angry or even hurt anymore. It almost sounds teasing, and Joel almost laughs. 

"I know," he smirks. "Trust me, I know."

"S'pose I got no business tryna forbid it, do I?" your father says.

"She wouldn't let you even if you tried," Joel replies, grinning wider when he thinks of how you'd respond to that. You, so independent and sure of yourself. Yeah fucking right.

Your dad huffs out a single laugh. "Ain't that the truth."

Tentatively, both men sip at their drinks, falling back into something of a routine. It still feels…awkward. But the worst seems to have passed.

Meanwhile, Joel's heart is pounding in his chest as the reality of his admission catches up with him. He loves you. He's in love with you. He's never said it out loud before. His entire body suddenly aches with the need to see you, just so he can say it again and again and again. 

Joel polishes off his drink, pursing his lips around the burn of whiskey on his tongue. The two men lock eyes, and Joel thinks maybe–maybe–he can see the early signs of forgiveness there. 

"I get it f'you need some time," Joel says. "Guess I just…wanna make sure me n' you are gonna be alright."

Joel's best friend sighs, before nodding slowly and sympathetically. 

"Yeah," he grunts. "Yeah, we'll be alright. C'mon–"

He cocks his head to the side as he rises up out of his chair and Joel hastily follows suit. Your father pulls him into an affable, if somewhat unsure, embrace, firmly patting his palms over Joel's upper back. Joel returns the hug instinctively.

"Don't fuck this up, Miller," your father grumbles over Joel's shoulder.

Joel chuckles, honestly grateful for the familiar ribbing. "Won't. Promise."

That's about the time you come charging back through the door.

-

four months later

-

A blanket of grey coats the early-April sky above, a telltale sign of rain to come. It's appropriately ominous, you think, considering what you're about to do.

Joel herds you toward his truck in the driveway with a hand on your lower back, but something in your periphery gives you pause. A glimpse of colour that hadn't been there before, stopping you in your tracks about halfway down his front steps. 

"Those are new."

Joel stops too, following your eye line as he casually throws an arm across your shoulders. He smiles when he sees what you see, letting you guide him a little closer to what had once been an unassuming, mostly barren patch of dirt on his front lawn. Now, poking out from the otherwise lifeless bushes are a handful of tulips, vivid green stems giving way to pink and yellow petals, tentatively blooming in spite of the day's limited sunlight. 

"Oh…yeah," Joel shrugs. "Sarah and I planted 'em. Years ago. Grow back every year around this time."

You're not sure why that stirs something in you. But it does. 

Joel Miller has tulips in his garden.

Curiously, you inch towards them, crouching to delicately curl your fingers around the unfurling petals.

"They're beautiful," you muse. You turn to face him and find he's watching you with equal curiosity. "Pink and yellow?"

"She picked the pink."

"Adds up," you nod. "What made you go with yellow?"

He stares at your fingers fiddling with the stems, and shrugs. You think he seems a little shy. 

"Can't remember," he says. "They're sunny, I guess. Bright."

A tightness knots in your throat as he reaches out beside you to touch his own fingers to the petals, softly running his thumbs against them, seemingly deep in thought. You think of a younger Joel Miller, picking out yellow tulip seeds to plant with his daughter because they reminded him of the sun. A younger Joel Miller digging holes in the Earth to lay down his roots, burying a memory only to watch it grow back, year after year. A sure thing, a constant. Always there even if you can't see them.

Of course Joel Miller has tulips in his garden. 

"What?" he probes after a moment of prolonged silence. You clear your throat. 

"Nothing," you smile, craning to kiss his cheek and feeling the low rumble of his responding chuckle against your lips. "I love you."

He cups a hand over your face before you can get too far, pressing his mouth to yours in a deeper, far less chaste kiss. 

"I love you too," he murmurs as he pulls away. 

You're still thinking about the tulips as Joel backs out of the driveway, and the first of the day's raindrops begin to hit his windshield. You make your way out of the safety of the cul-de-sac, and with the low hum of the radio playing in the background, you count the houses on the street outside your window in an attempt to calm your nervous mind. 

Joel doesn't interrupt your silence. But as you merge onto the freeway, your heart begins to pound–and you decide you need a distraction. 

"It's nice they grow back every year," you say absently out the window. 

"Hm?" Joel's brows furrow as he glances over at you, sitting with your chin atop your fist and staring out at the steadily increasing rainfall. He quickly catches up with your train of thought. "Oh, the tulips. Yeah, it is nice. 'Specially after Sarah left. They always reminded me of her."

You nod and make some noncommittal humming sound. Talking was a stupid idea actually. 

As ever, Joel notes your demeanour. 

"You alright?" he asks, taking your hand across the centre console and squeezing three distinct times. 

You sigh.

"Just nervous."

"You'll be fine," he insists lightly, not for the first time. "I reckon she's a lot more nervous'n you are."

You can't argue with that. Heather is the one who fucked your ex-boyfriend. Heather is the one working to make amends. Heather is the one who threw away your friendship and is now asking for it back. 

"Yeah, that's probably true," you agree quietly. 

Joel sighs. He lifts your conjoined hands to his mouth to lay a kiss against your knuckles, keeping his eyes on the road as he does. 

"Just…remember, you're not goin' there to forgive her or to…pretend like nothin' happened," he says. "But I think you'll feel better once y'get this all hashed out."

"I know you're right," you nod, allowing the truth of his words to wash over you as you take another steadying breath and lean your head back into the seat behind you. "I just feel like I-I've been carrying the weight of this for too fucking long. I have to let it go. I'm doing the right thing."

It's a mantra you have to keep reminding yourself of–you're doing the right thing. Not just from a being the bigger person standpoint, but for you. You need to do this so you can close this chapter of your life for good. 

"You're takin' the time to hear her out after all the shit she put you through," Joel goes on. "Makes you a better person than most people I know."

The pride and adoration in his voice makes warmth bloom in your tummy, but you roll your eyes all the same–out of habit more than anything else. 

"I don't know about that."

"I do."

His gaze darts in your direction again, and there is no trace of a lie in that look. So you choose not to fight him, just smile tightly and accept his reassurance, falling back into comfortable quiet for the rest of your drive. 

By the time he pulls up in front of the cafe you'd agreed to meet Heather at, your nerves have returned tenfold. Is she already inside? You're ten minutes early so maybe not. Is it better if you're here first or would that make her feel weird? Why are you worried about making her feel weird?  

God, it never used to feel this terrifying to see your best friend. You have half a mind to ask Joel to wait with you but ultimately decide against it. You need to be a big girl about this. 

"I can do this," you tell yourself instead. 

"You can," Joel agrees, taking you in his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Call me if it goes south and I'll come pick y'up, alright?"

You nod resolutely as you unravel yourself from his hold. 

"'Kay. Thank you."

"Good luck, baby girl."

With one last parting kiss, Joel lets you go, watching you from the driver's seat until you disappear behind the door of the cafe.

-

Heather is not there yet, as it turns out, and you can't tell if that makes this better or worse. 

Now you're faced with new dilemmas. Should you order her a coffee? You haven't seen her in eight months; what if she takes it differently now? 

She fucked your boyfriend–why would you buy her a coffee? the pettier part of you wonders.

And that's…true, you suppose.

So you buy yourself a latte and get it in a to-go cup, find a seat at a two-person table in the back of the dining room and wait. But not for long.

Barely five minutes later and Heather is coming through the door. She spots you and there's a moment of awkward uncertainty as you half-rise from your chair, the both of you waving at each other before Heather gestures to the line at the till. You nod and retake your seat.

You resist the urge to text Joel. You can do this. You can do this on your own.

Heather settles up, cautiously setting her coffee cup on the table beside yours and you're not sure why–instinct or something–but you stand when she gets there, and let her pull you into a hug. 

"Hi, babe." Her voice is thick and her arms are tight around you. And, goddamnit, for everything she put you through, there is a familiarity in that embrace, something long-forgotten in the warmth of her voice. 

"Hey," you murmur, letting her squeeze you in tighter before you both pull away. "Hey."

She assesses you with wide, wet eyes, hands still resting on your shoulders.

"You look amazing," she says.

"Thanks."

"I don't even know where to start," she shakes her head. "Thank you for seeing me."

"Of course." Like you hadn't stewed over it for literal weeks.

"Why don't I just–I mean, I have to–"

You can see her struggling, and you can't help but sympathize. She was always the more confident of the two of you, always more direct and brave–but in that warm kind of way that used to always put you at ease. Now, she seems completely lost, awkwardly taking a seat and waiting for you to do the same. She clutches her hands around her coffee cup and you don't think you've ever seen her look so small. 

"I am…so fucking sorry," she finally says. She doesn't shy away from you when she says it, and you have to respect her courage for that. She looks you dead in the eyes and doesn't avert her stare even once. 

You swallow tightly. "I know."

"Can I…would you let me explain?"

"Actually, Heather," you say, straightening in your seat a bit to steel yourself. Heather's face falls, until you go on, "Can I go first? I just need to say my piece and then, yes, you can explain."

She's nodding furiously before you even get the words out.

"Of course, yes, oh my god, please."

She sits back, probably gearing up for the lashing of a lifetime. It's not quite what you have planned but–

"You really hurt me. You and Chris. Whatever the story is, whatever went down, it doesn't change the fact that what you two did just... completely fucked me up. My entire life changed overnight because of you. I spent so many days crying, screaming, trying to just...figure out what I'd done to deserve that. Why wasn't I enough? Why wasn't I good enough for Chris? Why wasn't I a good enough friend to you? Like, if I was a better friend to you maybe you wouldn't have done that to me, you know?"

Fat tears slowly well in Heather's eyes as you speak, finally spilling over as you near the end of your monologue. But she doesn't interrupt or argue, and for that, you're grateful.

"I wondered about all of that for a really long time," you continue. "In those first few days when it was hardest...and for so many months after. But...I'm okay now. I think actually it all kind of worked out in the end, as crazy as that sounds."

At least it had all brought you to Joel.

"But I just needed you to know what it did to me. I think it's important that you know."

Heather hastily swipes at her tears, blinking them away and nodding her agreement.

"And that's it, that's all I have to say," you conclude. The weight on your shoulders feels lighter already. "You don't have to say anything back but...I do want to hear you out. You can...you can tell me what happened now."

That was the point of all this after all, you guess. 

Heather takes a deep, shaky breath. You sip your coffee. 

"Okay. Well, fuck. Okay. I had feelings for Chris," she begins. "But I never–I never dreamed of acting on them while you two were together, you have to know that. It wasn't premeditated or-or-or something I actively thought about–"

"I never thought that."

It's true. Heather's a lot of things, but she's not conniving. 

"Okay," she nods, seeming genuinely relieved. "Good. I mean, it still doesn't make it right, I know that. But he–"

She cuts herself off, a nervous shiver passing over her. Her courage wanes, and she looks down at the table as she dives into the part of her story that neither of you wants you to relive. 

"That night at your birthday party, he started telling me things. He…"

Her voice trails off again, and you can understand her fears, but you need to know this. Whatever it is.

"Heather, it's okay, you can tell me."

She glances up at you. You make your resolve as clear as possible on your face until you see her nod. 

"What happened was…I was drunk and I-I told him how I felt," she continues. "I shouldn't have done that, I know that. But that's when he started saying all this stuff about how he wasn't happy and how he was planning to break up with you. He-he said he'd always wanted to be with me instead."

She stops, peeking up at you, but the only response you can offer her is a curt little,

"Oh."

Interesting. He'd made no indication of his unhappiness to you. 

"In that moment, I just…I believed him. I should have just come straight to you but I let my stupid feelings get in the way and I–"

"He can definitely be very convincing," you say bitingly. Heather almost laughs, but quickly reins herself in. 

"It's no excuse, and I know that," she says. "I just really thought he meant it. That he was going to end it with you and choose me instead. Not that that would have been okay either, but. God, in hindsight, I just was not thinking clearly at all."

Heather buries her face in her hands but it's getting hard to focus. You're flitting back through memories, trying to piece things together. Had there been signs? Since meeting Joel, you're acutely aware that you hadn't been as happy as you could have been with Chris, but you can't ever recall letting that on at the time. And you certainly can't recall Chris ever letting on his unhappiness. It doesn't add up. 

"Then he did end it with you and you went to Costa Rica and I felt like, 'Okay, this is what he'd promised,' but…I could tell right away he was having second thoughts. All of a sudden, he's changing his tune, saying he wants to get back together with you and basically telling me I could just be like a-like a side piece or something."

At that, you scoff mirthlessly. Of course.

That's why he hadn't let anything on. He'd been trying to have his cake and eat it too. Motherfucker. 

"Yeah," Heather goes on. "So I said, 'Fuck you' and I walked. I was already feeling terrible about what I'd done to you and that just settled it for me."

"Fuck," you sigh, pinching at a pressure point between your eyes.

"And I haven't talked to him once since then," Heather insists. She reaches across the table and wraps a hand around your wrist, and you let her. "I promise."

You place your own hand over hers–again operating on some kind of deep-seated instinct. 

"Thank you," you tell her. "For–I don't know, for being honest."

"I would've told you everything sooner if you'd have let me–"

"I know."

"But I know–I know you needed your time. You didn't have to hear me out at all, and I would have deserved that. I take full responsibility, I do, but, my god, babe–," Heather's lips pull up in a smirk and you share a knowing glance, "–that guy fucking sucks."

You could try to fight the way your own face contorts into a grin, but you don't. 

"Yeah," you agree. "He really fucking does."

There's a short beat of silence, filled with the sounds of your uncertain, quiet laughter.

"Are we okay?" Heather finally asks tentatively, letting your arm go. "Or–shit. Sorry. You don't have to answer that."

"No–it…I don't know yet," you say truthfully. "But, you know, I don't think you deserve what he did to you, either. And I'm sorry."

"I'm okay now. All I really care about is you."

You smile at each other tightly–uncertainly–and sip quietly at your coffees. She doesn't demand forgiveness or push the subject further. You think the air feels just a little clearer now, a little more like before.

"So what's new with you?" she chimes in after a moment. "How've you been? You never post on Instagram anymore."

Your smile turns a little shy as you debate telling her about Joel. But her gaze is so earnest and curious, it makes you want that normalcy, to be able to gush to your best friend about the man you've fallen in love with. 

"Well," you shrug, sitting up a little straighter in your chair. "I'm seeing someone."

Heather's jaw drops in genuine delight, her eyes going wide with wonder.

"No way! Tell me everything."

And you do. You tell her all about Joel and Costa Rica, and every perfect moment since. Heather gasps and squeals at all the appropriate times and you find yourself remembering why it feels so good to have someone to talk about these things with. It's so validating to watch someone be as excited about your love life as you feel about it. 

"Wait," she interrupts, early on in your retelling, "If he's your dad's friend–how old is he?"

You bite your lip, hardly bashful about it these days, but after the disaster that was telling your parents, you never know how someone could react anymore.

"He's in his fifties," you confess.

Heather's hands come up over her mouth, but her eyes are swimming with barely-contained glee.

"Shut up, oh my god," she exclaims. Her initial shock fades into awe, and when her hands fall from her face, you think she looks kind of impressed, "Damn, girl. That's hot. Is he hot?"

You smile. "He's so fucking hot."

When you're home later, you'll have to remember to tell Joel how good it had felt to brag about him. You're sure he'll act coy, but you know it'll make his ego bloom, just a little bit.

It goes on like that as the minutes pass, you catching Heather up on the whirlwind that the last eight months or so have been. She looks kind of proud, and that feels good too. You're so proud of Joel, proud of the life you've built together, the way he's taught you so much about yourself and helped you grow into this new, happier person. It's nice to have someone else see that.

"So, your mom still doesn't approve?" she asks once you've got her fully up to speed.

You shrug. "Not as far as I know. I haven't spoken to her since that night we told them."

"Oh, babe."

You just shrug again, pushing back on her sympathetic gaze. 

"Maybe she just needs some time," Heather posits, "I mean, you seem so happy. She'll see that eventually."

"Maybe, yeah."

Heather offers you her own scoop after that, telling you all about how she's been busy working on herself, taking courses to get her yoga-teaching license and enjoying being single for the time being–though she does work in a few stories of some particularly exciting hook-ups. She seems well, and in spite of everything, you're happy for her. 

What's more, you kind of don't want your time with her to end. She seems to sense it too.

"Hey, do you want to maybe grab a drink? Like, a real drink?" she offers once your take-out cups are empty and the cafe's traffic has slowed to an early-evening lull. 

"Yeah, okay, fuck it," you agree with a shrug. Heather smiles excitedly before excusing herself to the bathroom, leaving you to check your phone for the first time in hours.

Everything good? reads a text from Joel. 

all good, you reply, i'll be a little later than i thought. 

Take yr time. Love you.

love you too.

-

A cocktail deep, pop music blaring, and a plate of nachos between you; this is true familiarity with Heather.  

You're finally starting to feel some semblance of comfortable, and it feels fucking good. To laugh with an old friend, even if there's still that faint undercurrent of distrust there. You imagine it won't ever fully go away. The minutes tick by, and while that distant uncertainty never fades, it gets easier. It gets fun.

"So, be honest," Heather says, diving headfirst into her second blended margarita. Her eyes sparkle with a devious little glint and you already have a feeling what she's going to ask. "This guy…he's in his fifties, right?"

"Right," you grin. 

"So like…what's the sex like?"

Your grin widens as a warmth floods your cheeks. You think about Joel, his patience and his generosity, his big cock and his skillful hands. His curiosity and his devotion, every new experience he's offered you and how genuinely thrilled he seems to do so. You try not to think about it for long, though, because your tummy is already fluttering in a way it really shouldn't be in public.

"Honestly," you say, sipping at your drink coyly. "I don't think it could possibly be any better."

Heather makes a delighted little noise, practically bouncing her chair. 

"Oh my god, okay…but what about like, his stamina?"

"Um," you laugh. "Hasn't been an issue yet."

"I love this for you so much, babe," she smiles and it sounds like she really means it. "Can I see what he looks like?"

You have no qualms saying no to that. You may be stupidly in love, but you don't think it's biased of you to find Joel Miller beautiful. It's simply an objective truth. And it feels good to show him off.

You pull your phone out of your purse and flash Heather your lockscreen–a picture of Joel on the beach in Costa Rica, salt-and-pepper curls tousled in the breeze, soft belly poking out over his swim trunks, smiling at you over his broad shoulders.

"Oh my god," Heather repeats, yanking your phone right out of your hand for a better look. She taps the screen to keep it alive as she stares between the picture and you, smiling triumphantly across from her. "Whoa."

"Mhm," you smirk, your chest swelling with pride. 

“That's a man, baby," she commends you, handing back your phone. You sneak a parting glance down at the image of Joel on your screen before locking it. Heather sits back against the booth behind her, shaking her head in wonder. "And he sounds like he's so good to you."

You nod, sighing dreamily. "Yeah...he's the best."

"Good. You deserve that."

It's honestly a touching sentiment, one that makes you warm and soft. You didn't know how nice it would feel to have just one person in your life accept your relationship with Joel without any convincing at all. You share a smile and clink your glasses. 

"I need an older man," Heather jokes, the sincerity of the moment quickly dissipating. "I'm so sick of boys."

"Joel certainly puts Chris to shame, that's for sure," you admit candidly. 

Heather huffs. "Yeah, well, that's not saying much, is it?"

You almost squirt your drink out through your nose. 

"Sorry, oh my god," Heather laughs, but it's too late. And it's probably wrong, but you don't care. You both descend into a fit of giggles at your ex's expense, and something about it feels weirdly cathartic.

-

It's like old times after that. Easier to forget the drama when you're three drinks deep and laughing so much. You're comfortably drunk in a way you haven't been in a while, falling quickly back into your usual repartee with Heather. You feel lighter–freer–as you and Heather find your way to the dance floor and pick up basically where you'd left off nearly a year ago.

You also miss Joel.

He's being respectful, clearly trying to give you space, texting you to be safe when you'd let him know you'd be staying out a little longer. And that's nice and all, but you've talked about him so much tonight, and for all the fun you're having, you just want his arms around you and his lips on yours again. 

"Didn't we go to high school with that guy?" Heather leans in close as you dance, effectively distracting you.

You follow her stare across the bar, averting your gaze the second you lock eyes with a handsome stranger leaning against the far wall. He's with a friend, and the two of them eye you and Heather with unabashed interest.

"Which one?" you giggle. 

"The one on the left!"

You peek over at the men again, honing in on the one on the left. He does kind of look familiar. He's also still watching the two of you curiously.

"Uh…" you wrack your brain, trying to recall. It feels like a lifetime ago.

"Tom!" Heather exclaims. You shake your head. 

"That doesn't sound right."

"No, it is! Tom from the basketball team, remember?" 

You look over again, but it's still not clicking. Maybe you're drunker than you'd thought.

"He's kinda cute," Heather murmurs slyly in your ear. You grin. 

The man is tall and lean, light-haired and certainly good-looking enough. A little older than both of you, but younger than the broader, burlier man beside him. You think maybe they could be brothers. 

"Do you want to say hi?" you ask her. 

Heather shakes her head.

"I have a better idea," she winks.

She grabs your hand and guides you to the bar, leaning against it and lengthening her body ever so. It doesn't take long before the men are coming up beside you like clockwork. 

You could always count on Heather to find a way to get free drinks.

"What are you drinking, ladies?" the younger one implores confidently, placing an elbow on the bar top beside Heather. "Oh shit, do I know you?"

"I want a shot," Heather says, ignoring his question. "You guys want a shot?"

"Fuck, yeah–whiskey alright?"

"Tequila," Heather smirks definitively.

-

Despite being out of practice, you haven't lost the ability to recognize good vibes from bad. And the guys give off good vibes. Especially once you all collectively figure out that you did indeed go to high school together. 

You shoot a pointed look at Heather when the younger one tells you his name is, in fact, Tim. 

"From the basketball team, though, right?" Heather asks. Tim frowns.

"Actually, it was water polo," he says.

"Water polo!" Heather repeats, looking at you with open arms and winking. You try to conceal your giggling. "Of course, I remember now."

Tim grins bashfully, even though you are sure Heather most certainly does not remember. 

You cheers to the Ravens and down your shots and then Tim ushers Heather back to the dance floor. You happily let her go. Tim seems kind of goofy, consistently making Heather throw her head back in laughter and it honestly feels nice to watch her look so content. You think about how Joel had made you feel those first few days in Costa Rica, when you'd still been reeling with all that heart ache. 

You think about how much resentment you'd harboured for Heather back then, and while it's not totally gone, there's a sense of kinship there now too. Chris had hurt you both, and you know all too well how healing it had been to find someone willing to stitch up the wounds he'd left. You want that for Heather. 

Goddamnit, you miss Joel. 

You imagine showing him off to all your old high school friends like he was some kind of trophy husband at a class reunion. You'd walk into the gymnasium, hanging confidently off his arm and everyone there would turn and stare. They'd all whisper about his age, you bet. Call you mean names behind the bleachers and gossip about whether or not he was your sugar daddy. Thinking like that used to make you anxious, now it makes you grin. 

"You want another drink?"

The other guy, Mike, is still sitting with you at the bar. He is Tim's brother, though you don't recognize him at all. Two years older and visiting from Philly, he's pretty clearly into you. But the conversation has been easy and he hasn't tried anything weird, so you don't think too much of it. You regale him about all your favourite local taquerias and what you studied in college, conscious of the way he seems just a little bit too interested in all of it. 

But you definitely don't need another drink, bordering on the better side of too drunk, and as nice as he is, you think it's probably best not to lead him on any longer. 

"Actually, I think I might head out soon."

"That's cool," Mike shrugs, polishing off the beer in his hand. "Wanna go grab a bite? Keep hangin' out?"

He sounds casual enough, but there's also an air of hopefulness in his voice. 

"Oh, that's okay." You clear your throat, suddenly nervous at the thought of quashing that hope. "I'm, um, I'm actually spoken for."

Unconsciously, your fingers fly to the shell around your neck, fiddling idly with the chain. Mike's eyes follow the motion.

Much to your relief, Mike smiles, seemingly unbothered. 

"Makes sense," he nods. His eyes trail up and down your body in a way that makes your cheeks burn. It also really makes you miss Joel. He's the only one you want looking at you like that. 

"Well, he's a lucky guy, whoever he is," Mike says with a wink. 

"Yeah," you agree fondly. "He is."

-

It's a quarter past eleven when Joel finally hears a car pull up outside. Two minutes later and your key is turning in the door, Henry bounding off the bed beside him to greet you downstairs. 

"Hi, baby boy!"

Your voice, high-pitched and much too loud, cuts through the quiet of his home. He smiles to himself as he listens to you kick your shoes off, murmuring unintelligible nonsense to Henry as you both make your way back up to the bedroom. Joel sets his book on the nightstand and tilts his glasses down his nose, sitting up straighter until you emerge in the doorway with Henry in your arms and a crooked smile plastered across your face. 

"Hey, sweetheart," he smirks.

You visibly soften at the sight of him, Henry spilling out of your grip.

"Hi," you whine.

Joel can't quite get a read on your energy, watching you curiously strip off your jeans and crawl up the mattress till you're splayed out on top of him.    

"Mmmm, Joel," you sigh dreamily as you make yourself at home across his chest. 

"I take it that went alright?" he asks, wrapping an arm around your neck to stroke the back of your head. You practically purr into his sternum and the sound makes his insides turn.

"Yes," you nod, before pressing both hands into his shoulders to push yourself up so you're straddling him, "But, Joel…"

Now face to face, you appear a bit dazed as you blink down at him, an adorable little pout painting your features. Joel smirks, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he waits for you to finish your thought.

"I missed you so much," you conclude, catching him off guard when you fist the front of his t-shirt and dive forward to slant your mouth over his.

You plunge your tongue between his lips and Joel can taste tequila there, can feel it too in the way you're kissing him; sloppy, hungry, eager. 

"Only been gone a few hours, sweetheart," he chuckles against your lips.

"I know, but…after the cafe, we went drinking and–"

"No shit."

With what appears to be considerable effort, you push yourself off his chest and point an accusatory finger in his face. Your eyes narrow and Joel thinks you look a little too adorable for your own good. 

"Watch it, Miller."

Joel grins. 

"Mmmm, or what?" he hums, tracing his palms up and over your sides, which seems to distract you for a moment, your eyelids fluttering as a minute shiver visibly courses through you. You quickly pull yourself together.

Your blissful features quickly dissolve back into an overdone pout and Joel watches with amusement as you pry his fingers off your body. He could resist, but he doesn't, honestly just curious–and maybe a little turned on–as you collect his wrists in your hands and pin his arms down on the mattress beside his head.

Seemingly content with your work, you hold him there with eyebrows raised–and Joel decides to let you have the win. 

"Can I finish my story, please?"

"Yes, ma'am," he smirks. You bristle at that but otherwise manage to stay on track.

"We went drinking, and it was really, really fun," you go on. You shift your weight slightly, and Joel smirks when he catches the moment you lose your train of thought at the feeling of his hardening cock beneath you. 

"And?" he presses.

"I-I think I'm still mad at her…but it was…nice."

"That's good, baby," Joel murmurs, experimentally rolling his hips upwards just to watch your eyelids flutter. "I'm real proud of ya."

You exhale, making a sound that's almost a sob as you abandon your grip around his wrists to fold yourself over his chest again. You greedily kiss his neck and his ears and his face, and Joel lets you. Your drunken desperation is making him harder than he'd like to admit, and it's pretty fucking endearing to watch you suck your little marks into his skin with no inhibitions whatsoever.

"I talked about you a lot," you smile, clumsily resituating yourself so you're lying against his side, folding yourself in half so you're speaking the words against his belly. 

"Yeah?" He rests his hand on the back of your skull, chuckling at the way you keen into his touch. "Talked about me how?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," you sneer just as you curl your fingers under the waistband of his boxers.

"What're you doin' there, baby girl?"

You peer up at him with a devastating puppy-dog stare, all wide-eyed and needy. "I missed your cock. I just wanna suck on it a little."

"Jesus," Joel breathes. He's powerless to fight you then as you tug his boxers down his thighs to reveal his semi-hard cock. He really shouldn't let you in this state but you're already wrapping your fingers around him and tonguing at his slit and it's too fucking late now. He stiffens fully in your grasp and promptly loses any will to stop you.

Then you close your lips around his length and take him as deep as you can, moaning like he's just given you the sweetest gift in the world. 

"Fuck, yeah, you missed it," he grunts as you begin to bob, downright eager with it, if not lacking some of your usual finesse. You coat his cock with sloppy strings of saliva and move on him in an uneven rhythm but Joel's not gonna argue with a hot, wet mouth. Joel is more than happy to watch you take what you want from him. 

"Messy girl," he remarks affectionately, stroking a palm down your spine to your ass, firmly cupping your cheek in his hand. "This all you wanted? Just to come home and let me stuff that pretty little mouth?"

"Mhm," you hum blissfully around him, spluttering a bit as you swallow him down again.

"Fuck, that's a good girl," he groans.

At that, you whimper, your cheek falling into his belly with your mouth still closed around his cock. You keep up the motions of your mouth for a moment, humming and moaning around him as you draw precum from his tip and suck it down greedily until he feels your jaw slowly begin to slacken.

He pets your hair and your body goes loose, heavy where it lays across his middle.

Joel can sense a shift in you then, your eagerness fading even as you continue to lap at his tip. Your fingers feel a little weaker around his shaft but you don't let up, lazily jerking him until he feels your hand go still, your lips barely grazing him anymore. You offer him a few wet, open-mouthed kisses to the head of his cock and then you go limp.

Joel waits a moment to be sure, peeking down at you questioningly.

Sure enough, you're asleep. 

"Oh, baby," Joel sighs fondly. He squeezes your ass but you don't stir. Your slow, steady breathing lets him know you're really out, his hard cock forgotten in your grasp. You'll probably be embarrassed in the morning, but Joel's just stupidly endeared, hoisting you up into his arms and ignoring your half-conscious sounds of protest. 

"C'mere, sweetheart, there you go."

He nestles up behind you, cradling you into his chest with his cock pressed against your ass. You shimmy back into him and Joel tries to ignore the ache, tells himself it'll feel better to fuck you in the morning when you've sobered up anyway. He reaches back to turn off the lamp on the nightstand and you whine at the loss of his body against yours. 

"Joel," you whisper as he retakes his place behind you. "Did you come?"

He fights for his life not to burst out laughing. You're so goddamn cute.

"No, baby," he murmurs, kissing his favourite spot behind your ear. "Made me feel real fuckin' good, though. You can make me come tomorrow, alright?"

You hum contentedly, already drifting back to sleep. Joel pulls you in tighter, whispers that he loves you even though he doesn't think you can hear him, and it's not long before he's following behind you.

-

His alarm wakes him just as a beam of sunlight passes through his window, but it doesn't have the same effect on you.

You snooze peacefully with your back adhered to his chest, the gentle curve of your ass still flush against his cock. Your panties are gone; had you gotten up in the night? He can't remember now. It doesn't matter anyway, not when he can feel the heat of your body this close, bare flesh all soft and warm against him as the memory of the night before floods his senses. He'd fallen asleep with his dick still hard–aching–and within seconds of being awake, he's right back where you'd left him last night. 

Not that it's uncommon for Joel to wake up horny when he sleeps next to you, but it's worse like this, worse that he's already felt your lips on his cock just a few hours prior, without getting the chance to come down your throat.

"Hey," he murmurs into your hair, but you don't wake up. You just move your hips backwards unconsciously, the hard length of his cock pressing warm between your cheeks. Driving him fucking crazy and you don't even know it.

Joel growls, a low, carnal sound he barely recognizes as he trails a hand down the side of your body. He cups your ass in his palm and spreads your cheeks apart, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing your hole. You shiver and Joel smirks. Sound asleep and you still respond to having your ass played with. Something about knowing you so well makes him that much harder. 

Pliant and gone, you let him play with you, hands traversing every inch of your skin, up and over your belly to cup your breasts. His breath ragged in your ear, he gently twists your nipples just to feel them come alive under his touch. You squirm for him and Joel responds in turn, unable to help himself as he begins to slowly rut his hips against you. 

"Sweet thing," he husks, feeling his touch grow rougher on your hipbone, your ass flush against his bulge as he grinds into you like a fucking teenager. "You don't even fuckin' know. Got no idea what you’re doin' to me, do you?"

He knows you can't hear him. Right now, he doesn't care. 

He's wanted you like this since Costa Rica, too nervous to ask until you'd given him the okay all those months ago now. He's had you so many ways, and still you say you want more. He's not sure what he ever did to deserve you, but if one thing's been true from the start, it's that Joel Miller is not strong enough to deny you anything. 

Something about this, though, feels decidedly selfish. His hand on your thigh, positioning your pliant muscles to his liking, bending your leg at the knee just so he can spread you open wider, slip his fingers between your ass cheeks and scrape them over your bare pussy; that's for him. 

The sticky wetness he feels there–that's his. 

Your spine arching in your sleep when he sinks two fingers into your warm, dripping hole–that's because of him. 

"Still want it, baby?" he hums as he pumps his fingers in and out. "Still want this cock?"

He doesn't wait for you to answer. For once, he just takes. 

You put up no resistance as he replaces his fingers with his cock, pulling your body back into him until his hips meet your ass.

"Fuck," he hisses as he bottoms out.

You're so warm, so tight and inviting and perfect around him.

You're so wet, slick pools of arousal coating the hairs on his lower belly, sticking to your skin where it touches his.

And you're so soft, all gooey and loose in his arms as he slowly rocks into you, as close as he can possibly get and somehow never close enough. 

"S'my good girl," he breathes, "Take it just like that for me. Finish what you started, huh?"

He moves without haste, content just to feel you like this, close and confined under the covers. Experimentally, he reaches around you to touch his fingers to your clit, sighing in amazement when your pussy clenches on his cock, a wave of slick gathering at the place you're connected.

"Yeah? That feel good?" he says to no one as he gently circles your pearl. He's rewarded with a breathy little moan, the prettiest fucking sound he's ever heard. His hips snap against yours with more force now, jostling you with you every thrust. He can feel his control waning, and he's gonna wake you up soon if he's not careful. 

Maybe he's done being careful. 

Cock still buried inside you, he rolls you both so he's lying above you, your body prone to the mattress beneath him. Your fingers curl into little fists and then you gasp, eyelids fluttering against the light of morning. Something dark and animalistic twists in him when he watches the awareness creep across your face, the way your features contort and you strain to look back over your shoulder, piecing it all together. 

"Oh my god," you whine when it clicks. "Joel, fuck, fuck–ohmygodJoel–"

"Shh, I know, baby, I know…I got you, you're okay," he babbles, folding over you to nip hungrily at your shoulders. You throw your head back and expose the column of your neck to him and Joel bites down there too just because he can. "Just had to feel you like this. You were so wet."

"Oh, fuck," you cry, voice still hoarse with sleep as Joel pounds into you harder. No reason to hold back now. "Fuck yes, Joel, take it."

"Yeah?"

"Please."

That's all he needs to hear.

With his arms wrapped firmly around your middle, Joel sits back onto his knees, taking you with him as he drapes you over his thighs and pulls you down onto his length. Your body still feels weak with sleep, almost passive in his grasp in a way he's not sure he should enjoy so much. He doesn't overthink it. 

What he does is find your clit again, massaging his fingers over the bundle of nerves while he thrusts his cock up into you. A wanton moan pours from your throat and Joel catches it in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. 

"There you go, there you go," Joel rambles when he feels you start to quiver, your pussy constricting around him as you spill listless, needy sounds of pleasure onto his lips. "Feels so good, don't it? Wakin' up with a cock inside you. This is what you wanted. Yeah? You gonna come?"

"Yesyes, fuck, yes Joel, I'm coming–"

"I know," he grins, "I know, baby."

He knows because he feels it. He feels you pulse around his length, feels your muscles seize and loosen, feels your little clit twitch beneath his fingers as he coaxes you through your high. He also feels something new, something wet and warm and sinful. 

"Oh, good girl," he groans. "Fuck–look at that."

You're gushing for him, liquid pouring out over his fingers and his cock and his balls, staining the sheets beneath you. You writhe in his arms but Joel just keeps fucking you, fucks you until he's drawn every last drop from you. Fucks you until he's coming too, clutching you against him as his cock spasms between your walls and paints your insides with spend. Hot cum leaks out around his length, drips down your inner thighs, and makes a mess of your already messy pussy. 

He comes and comes and then it ends, strangled moans fading into ragged breaths and heady grunts of release. 

"Jesus," Joel pants into the hollow of your ear as he slowly comes down. "You alright?"

"Yes," you sigh. "Holy shit, thank you, Joel. Thank you."

He's got no fucking idea what for. 

He pulls you off his cock and turns you in his lap to face him. Your arms coil around his neck and you cling to him like a koala, your face buried in his chest. He holds you there, because he thinks you might need that–and also because he wants to. 

"How'd I get so lucky, huh?" he ponders as he gently strokes your hair.

"I'm lucky," you protest softly. "I was trying to tell you that last night."

"I thought you were tryin' to suck my cock."

You laugh breathlessly, unravelling yourself from him just enough to let him see your face. You curl your fingers into his hair in a possessive sort of way that would probably make him hard if he hadn't just come so thoroughly. 

"That was supposed to be an act of gratitude."

"For what? I didn't do nothin'."

He tries to keep his tone as light as yours, but his insecurities always bleed through no matter how hard he tries. You sense the earnestness in his voice, and match it head on. 

"That's not true. You've made everything better," you whisper, touching your forehead to his. "I'm so fucking happy you're in my life."

He's gonna have to ask you exactly what all went down with Heather. He figures for now it can wait. 

You kiss him and he kisses you back, his furrowed brows softening as your lips move against his in a now-familiar dance. The sun rises over Austin and though he's not sure he'll ever have the words to tell you, Joel thinks he's pretty damn happy you're in his life too.

-

"So I was thinking," you say around a mouthful of eggs the following Saturday.

"Uh-oh," Joel grins. 

You fix him with a look and his grin only widens. 

"Anyway," you continue pointedly, shovelling another forkful of eggs into your mouth. "I was thinking–I'm kind of on a roll here. You know, in terms of, like, building bridges or whatever."

"Sure," Joel nods.

"And I'm thinking that…maybe I'm ready to talk to my mom."

Joel's eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, like…" you shrug, focusing on your breakfast as you talk out what's been on your mind since you'd seen Heather last weekend. Being with her and hearing her side of the story had given you some foundation with which to forgive her. It's been gnawing at you that you haven't really given your own mother that chance. Perhaps if she could just see how happy you are, she'd eventually come around. 

You explain all this to Joel, who nods along and hums his agreement. 

"I just feel like I've…closed myself off to her and it's not really fair for me to just expect her to magically see the light, you know? I mean, look at dad. He's been coming around more, he's been seeing us together. And he's basically okay with it all now. Maybe it's just me, you know? Maybe I need to let her in."

Joel shakes his head, smiling at you affectionately. "You're too good for your own good, you know that?"

You scoff and wave him off. 

"Whatever. But don't you agree?"

He appears to mull it over, sipping his coffee for a long moment before eventually sighing. 

"I do," he nods slowly. "But I also think…you got a right to protect your peace. Lettin' her in means exposin' yourself to all the shit that might come with that."

You bite your lip and nod. You know that. You know he's right. You know it might blow up in your face to try to repair that relationship. But some little voice in the back of your head keeps telling you to do it anyway. A cloying, aching need to just…put things back in place.

"I guess I'm just tired of feeling so angry all the time," you confess. "I'm just…walking around with all this unresolved bullshit hanging over me and it's…I mean, it's exhausting. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I saw Heather, you know? If I potentially have the power to do something about that, then I think…I think I should."

Joel smiles, his sweet brown eyes crinkling at the edges. 

"Then I'm with you, baby," he says, reaching across the table to cover one of your hands with his own. "Whatever you gotta do."

You nod resolutely, spurred on, as ever, by his unwavering support.

-

On Sunday, it rains.

Heavy showers pelt against Joel's windshield, his truck parked in the driveway of your parents' home. A quick text to your mom the day before had confirmed she'd be home around this time and that she'd be more than okay with you stopping by for an afternoon coffee. Unlike when you'd sat outside the cafe in this same truck a week ago, you don't feel nervous to see your mother. Instead, you feel a strange sense of duty and an unflappable air of confidence. All you have to do is show off how happy Joel makes you for a couple of hours. What could possibly be easier than that? 

Plus, you're not really worried about your mother coming at you with any kind of outward disdain. She can be oddly cordial when she thinks someone is mad at her.

"I'll stay close by," Joel tells you. "Take you home when you're done."

You frown. "What? You don't have to wait for me, that's silly."

Joel just shrugs. "Ain't no thing. Don't want you takin' the bus in this weather."

And Joel thinks you're too good. 

"I wish you could just come in with me."

It had been the only stipulation your mother had outlined, or at least that's how you'd interpreted her text asking, It's just you coming, right?

You'd burned with rage at that, typed out an entire message in Joel's defense, but he had insisted it was fine. One thing at a time. He could sit this one out. 

"Next time," he murmurs, leaning across the centre console to kiss your cheek. 

"Yeah," you nod. 

He wishes you good luck, offering you a goodbye kiss before you're pulling your hood up over your head and bounding through the downpour to the front door. Your mother is pulling it open before you've even stepped onto the welcome mat. 

"Quick, quick, come on," she hastens you with a hand around your shoulders, guiding you inside and out of the pouring rain. You catch her look back at Joel pulling out of the driveway before she's closing the door behind you both. 

"Oh, shoot, look at you," she tuts, prodding at the wet fabric of your hoodie. "Let me get you something else to wear–"

"It's fine, mom," you insist before she can go pulling you something hideous from her closet. You pull your damp sweater up over your head so you're in just your t-shirt, noting that hardly any of the rainwater had managed to leak through. "This is fine, see?"

"Alright," she smiles, sort of shyly. You've been apart so long, and it normally doesn't feel so weird falling back into that mother-daughter routine. Extenuating circumstances, you suppose. She glances down at the hoodie in your arms.

"Do you want to hang it up in the bathroom and let it dry? I'll get some coffee going."

You return her smile as best you can. It certainly sounds like she's trying. It certainly sounds like something a mother would say. 

"Yeah, sure," you nod, already skirting around her to your way down the front hall. "Thanks."

You vaguely hear her hum something in response as she makes her way to the kitchen. 

The main-floor bathroom is just down the hall, a renovation project that's been half-in-the-works for years, basically abandoned now that your parents almost exclusively use their en suite. Maybe they'd have finished it by now if you still lived here.

You flip the light on to find it looks much the same as it did the last time you were here; tiles partially laid, sink without a hot water knob. You carefully drape your hoodie up on the shower curtain rod still noticeably lacking a shower curtain.

You're flattening out the sleeves when you hear the doorbell chime. 

Having grown up here, you respond instinctively to the familiar melody, poking your head out of the bathroom just in time to see your mother beat you to the door. She swings it open, and there on the front porch, soaked from his head to his shoulders, is Joel. 

Your heart just about stops.

"Oh," your mother greets him, uncertainly looking back over her shoulder to where you're standing wide-eyed in the hallway. 

"'Lo, ma'am,” Joel says. From here, you can barely hear him over the rain outside. "I don't mean to intrude. Just wanted to leave this."

You frown as he holds something out to your mother, something you can't see from this angle.  

"Oh," she says again, sounding theatrically surprised. You roll your eyes. 

"She left it in the truck. Just thought she might need it. That's all. I'll get outta your hair now."

He catches your eye over her shoulder then, quickly shooting you a sweet, heart-breaking smirk that makes your chest swell. 

"Thank you, Joel," your mother says. "I'll, uh, make sure she gets it."

He smiles at her politely and offers her a parting wave, taking off at the same time she begins to close the door after him.

"What is it? What was that?" you ask, hurriedly emerging from the hallway to meet her in the entryway. 

"Your umbrella," she tells you, hanging it up on a coat hook. "That was nice of him."

She says it absentmindedly as she makes her back to the kitchen, this time with you in tow. 

Huh.

"Well, he's a really nice man," you say simply, leaning your elbows on the island while she tends to the coffee pot. 

"Hm," she nods.

She busies herself, deep in thought in a way that makes you uneasy. 

"What?" you press her.

She pours you a mug of coffee, preparing it just how you like with cream and sugar–the same way you've taken it for years. She hands it to you over the countertop, brows still furrowed together in apparent confusion. 

"He drove you here?"

You frown. "Yes?"

"Kind of a far drive in the rain."

"So?"

She ignores you.

"What's he doing while you're here?"

You're struggling to follow her train of thought. But you think maybe you know what she's getting at. Why she can't understand Joel doing something so selfless, why she probably can't seem to understand you and Joel at all.

The thing about your mother is that there always needs to be something in it for her. Every favour, every helping hand; it can never be truly inconvenient for her, and it must always somehow benefit her in return. You know of people out there with mothers who are truly selfless, mothers who are there for them, mothers who would drop everything at a moment's notice if their children so much as asked.

But that is not your mother. That has never been your mother.

You'd forgiven her for that long ago, convinced yourself it had just made you that much more independent, that much more self-reliant. And it did, but at a cost. That cost being someone in your life you could always safely count on, someone you could always trust to be there when you needed them.

Someone who would drive you in the pouring rain to a house he could not enter, just so he could wait for you outside and bring you home when you were ready. 

"I don't know," you tell her honestly. "He just said he'd stay close by and that he'd pick me up when we're done."

She's still frowning, seemingly perplexed at the notion. "He's just waiting out there in his truck?"

You shrug. "I told you, mom. He's a really nice man."

"Hm," she says again, staring down at her coffee and taking a long, contemplative sip. "I guess he is."

You grin. It's not much. It's hardly anything at all, really. But it's a start. A seed you're more than willing to water in the hopes that eventually, maybe, she'll come around.

-

A/N CONT'D: thank you for reading! and now...a special sneak peek of the upcoming summer season. continue reading for the first 500 words of the next and final chapter of your summer dream. i love you all.

chapter vibes:

Sometimes life really feels like a dream. 

Even in the monotony, even in the mundane. The morning commutes and the tins of cat food, the Sunday afternoons spent cleaning and the Tuesday nights spent falling asleep on the couch. And it's funny, how just like a dream, you move through the days as though time means nothing at all, everything blurring together until all at once, a year has passed. 

Summer blooms, softens and warms you from the inside out. The fan beside the bed blows cool air against your clammy skin, but is no match for the heat between your legs, the overwhelming sensation of Joel's mouth fused wetly over your cunt. 

He drinks you down like you're his morning coffee, ravenous and greedy as he hooks your legs over his shoulders and snakes his arms around your thighs. But he is in no rush, languid in the way he makes out with your pussy, whimpering and groaning at every soft, needy moan he manages to draw from you. 

But then you claw at his scalp, tug on those gorgeous greying curls and whine. Joel smirks.

"Impatient," he mutters. 

He's been lapping lazily at your cunt for the better part of twenty minutes now. You are not impatient. Luckily, as you've come to discover, Joel will never tell you no unless you ask him to. 

"S'alright," he whispers, barely letting his lips leave you as he sinks two thick fingers into your core. You keen at the welcome stretch, and Joel purrs between your thighs. "Yeah, there she is. There's my fuckin' girl. You want me to make this little pussy come? Never can just wait, can ya?"

"Waited–long enough," you groan weakly as he nudges at that perfect spot inside you. "Please. I've been good."

You feel him smile again before he's pressing a chaste little kiss to your clit, his moustache tickling your skin.

"Yeah, you have," he breathes, and then he gets to work. 

His tongue moves in tandem with his fingers, expertly finding a familiar rhythm he knows like the back of his hand by now. In no time at all, warmth pools down your spine and settles in your tummy, courses rapidly through your veins and tenses all your muscles. You come with dazzling force, grinding your clit onto his willing tongue with that insistent fist still tangled in this hair. Joel loves that. 

In these moments, the dream comes alive. The mundanity of every-day life splits open and you realize, there is in fact nothing monotonous about this life at all. How could there be? Joel is here–Joel is still here. A year since you first shook his hand in an airport parking lot, a year in which it feels as though everything changed; through it all, Joel remains. Like a tulip in soil, perennial.

"Wanna take you away somewhere," he rasps as he climbs up your body to kiss and nip at the side of your face. "What do you think? Wanna come away with me?"

You're not sure if he means forever or a day.

"Yes, please," you tell him either way. 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #dbf!joel miller x reader #vacation!joel #your summer dream #joel miller one shot #joel miller series #dbf!joel

[babygazette]

Please can we get more soccer mom and rafe??<3

RIGHT UNDER THE DOG’S NOSE

synopsis : sequel to done deal. weeks after your deal with coach cameron, you’re pregnant. with your libido through the roof, rafe helps you out and you two figure out future plans.

pairing : coach!rafe x soccermom!reader

warnings : minors dni, 18+ smut, mean husband, cheating (again fuck cheating, don’t do it), pregnant sex, p in v, reader calls rafe ‘coach’ like once, cheating while in the same house as the husband, unprotected sex

word count : 2,119

📠 📰 ────────*𑁍༘⋆ ────────

coach cameron stands there watching the game with his arms crossed and his legs wide in an intimidating stance, he chews on a piece of gum while his eyes slowly wander from the boys running around to you. he smirks at you, sending you a wink that makes every other mom around you start giggling like teenage girls. you keep eye contact while grinning at him, almost wanting to blow him a kiss to let everyone know that he’s yours but that ring on your finger stops you, so does the fact that your son is on the field just right there. it’s been a few weeks since you said yes and making that deal with coach cameron was one of the best decisions of your life. it solved so many of your problems– your husband was no longer running his mouth (about your son at least), your son looked a lot happier, and he gets along with rafe quite well. 

the most important thing is you actually got to cum almost every week unlike before where it was once a month if you were lucky. rafe fucked you anywhere and everywhere he could: his office, the janitor closet, one time in the locker room, his house, any other secretive place you could possibly think of. therefore it's not much of a surprise when the stick has two vibrant red lines confirming that you were indeed pregnant. 

you let out a deep exhale before leaving the bathroom with the test in your hand over to where your husband lounged on the couch. you know your son’s asleep, it's midnight, but you still check anyway. once you are sure that the coast is clear, you clear your throat to get your husband’s attention, “honey?” his eyes are too focused on the bright tv, his face being illuminated by the flashing television and nothing else. you roll your eyes at him, before trying to get his attention again by tapping his shoulder. “fuck, what do you want? how many times do i have to tell you not to bother me when i’m watching?” he scolds you, only giving you one scornful look, you smile but your thoughts are anything but polite. what a sleazeball. 

“honey, i have something important to tell you.” you step in front of his view with the sweetest expression on your face, your husband groans but decides to listen begrudgingly. i'm having an affair with our son’s coach and “i'm pregnant!” with rafe’s baby probably. you didn't know his facial expression could look more annoyed until now. “you’re messing with me, you managed to get pregnant from one time? the fuck is wrong with you?” he doesn’t seem to have a clue that there's a possibility of it being another man’s. maybe because he’s too arrogant to assume he got cheated on. “you’re not happy?” you pout, tilting your head at him, you really couldn’t care less what he thought.

“no, i'm not jumping with joy at something that’ll drain my damn money. jesus christ, i'm going on a drive. it's all on you, not like i'll be taking care of it.” you watch as he collects his coat and slams the door shut, he’s definitely going to the bar which gives you about two hours maybe? you stare at the television and exhale in relief that he was finally gone, a divorce lawyer commercial? funny. you turn off the screen before wandering back to your shared bedroom and slumping on to the plush comfort of your mattress. the whole house is so silent, it’s nice but it leaves you in your thoughts. you glance at the positive pregnancy test still in your hand before sliding your phone off the nightstand, you dial up a number. ring, ring, ring–

“hello?” he picks up after a few rings, his voice all groggy and deep from his slumber. you bite your lip before speaking up, “hey.” almost instantly you hear shuffling from his side once he realizes it’s you. “hey, something happen? do i have to come get you?” rafe lets his words stumble over each other as concern washes over him because you don’t usually call this late. you grin at his cute worry and shake your head even though he can’t see it. “mmh.. just miss you is all.” you hear his raspy chuckle that makes your heartbeat a lot quicker. “no, you don’t. i can hear that sly tone in your voice, baby. my boys try to trick me everyday, you think i don’t know that voice?” he scoffs over the phone before he softens up again, “tell me.”

“i’m pregnant.” you finally say and there’s a very long pause. the silence is killing you, nibbling anxiously on your bottom lip, begging that he’s gonna be happy. “i’m coming over.” he blurts out, you furrow your eyebrows in utter disbelief because that was way too risky for him to do so casually. “what, rafe? someone might se—“ a click of the line and the call ends right then and there. what just happened? you sit there on your bed, thinking about what just transpired, it’s not the time for this. he’s actually coming here when you had no precise idea when your husband was coming home. you rush out of the room, checking to make sure your son was not gonna wake up any time soon, seems alright. you pace around the living room as you await rafe’s sudden visit because his reaction was too unreadable. was he glad or was he angry? not a clue.

minutes later, you hear heavy knocks: it sounds urgent almost, you look through the peephole to see rafe but he was less put together than normal. this was a terrifying sight but you open the door anyway. your eyes widen as rafe immediately wraps his arms around you in a tight hug. “it’s real right? you’re actually pregnant? don’t— don’t tell me i came all the way over here for no reason.” he kneels down instantly to feel your stomach which is barely even growing a bump. “yes, it’s real. i still have to go to the doctors to confirm but knowing how my first one went. i’m sure.” he looks up at you and gets up with his hands holding onto yours. his eyes, those ocean eyes are killing you, you haven’t seen eyes that full of love in forever. “i’m gonna take care of you. i’m gonna take real good care of you and this baby, you– you understand? fuckin’ hell, baby!” rafe cheers in happiness, walking around the room with his palms over his eyes.

────────*𑁍༘⋆ ────────

rafe stayed true to his word. in the past two months, he went to every appointment that your husband didn’t, constantly checked on you, when your husband wasn't home; rafe would come over and help you in any way he could. your husband was clueless. the only thing that frustrated you was he hadn’t fucked you in forever and now you were too horny, currently in your second trimester, you desperately needed to get off. 

so that’s why you’re desperately grinding against rafe’s lap in your living room at the dead of night with your husband and son sleeping just upstairs. “hey– shit– you said there was an emergency.” rafe tilts his head back onto the couch and holds onto your hips tightly. “it is an emergency!” you whine out, needily rolling your hips on his growing bulge, “it hurts, rafe, pleasee..”

he groans and his hands try to stop your movements in distress. “baby, you can’t do this to me— c’mon. you’re pregnant. i— i can’t be..” rafe pauses his scolding when he feels how you’re soaking his pants. he did promise he’d take care of you. “alright, alright! you want dick so badly? gonna be a needy little mama?” he holds you up on his lap while his other hand unbuttons his pants hastily. rafe slides his pants and boxers down, stroking it quickly before he slips his fingers to your drooling pussy. “fuck.. it’s soaked, baby. needed me to fuck you in his house, huh? i’m not doing anything. you want it, you do it.” he leans back against the couch, settling into the plush cushions and watching you squirm.

like a flip of a switch, you’re bouncing on his cock, moans slipping past your pouty lips. your slick causing easy access, he’s filling you up just how you needed. everytime his cock would slip out from how wet you were, you pushed it back in greedily. “jesus, calm down. know you want it, baby. don’t forget where we are.” he grunts out, cupping your face in his hand, thumb slipping into your mouth to muffle your mewls. 

“love it, coach..” you babble around his thumb, words coming out in a slur, he chuckles at you. “gotta call me that in bed? dirty girl.” he teases you but rafe knows he loves it too. you’re riding him like there’s no tomorrow, somehow gathering a huge amount of stamina that left as soon as you became pregnant. his other hand guides your hips up and down his cock. 

you needed it so badly and now that you have it: you can’t stop. the pregnancy fatigue is catching up with you soon enough and now you’re just relying on rafe’s hand to help you ride him. he notices that you’ve slowed down a lot and flips you onto your back. he said that he’d do nothing but he can’t help it, rafe’s gotta ease your pain. his hips slowly roll into you while he tries to keep his body uplifted to not crush you. one hand holding him up and the other still in your mouth. rafe can tell you’re close now by the way your eyes roll back and your whines increase in volume. your walls flutter around his shaft causing him to groan, his hands slipping to your sensitive clit, aiding you to your orgasm. “cum for me, baby. come on. let it all out, i got you.” he coos at you and soon enough you were creaming on his cock, rafe following soon after. 

“all good?” rafe questions and you nod sleepily, he gives you a kiss before sliding down to kiss your growing baby bump. he puts his pants back up and cleans you up carefully with the tissue by the coffee table as you get yourself together. “when your water breaks, you call me alright? i want to be there. and if that guy tries anything i’ll stop it.” rafe brings up suddenly, tossing the dirty tissue somewhere, pulling you back onto his lap. he taps your cheek lightly to make sure you’re listening to him. the seriousness of the topic snaps you out of your after daze and you smile at him, “mhm, got it.” he grins back at you once you confirm, looking down to adore your future child. 

a few seconds of cuddling pass and you were getting sleepy, wanting nothing more than to sleep here with him on this couch. you can’t though and you know that. “i gotta go, baby, before they wake up. think you can handle yourself?” rafe asks, not wanting to leave either but he has to. you get up from his lap unwillingly and nod at him that you were gonna be okay. he gets up with a sigh and leads you by the waist to the door. you follow him out, wanting to spend every small second together. 

rafe turns around once he’s out the door and gives your hip a gentle squeeze. “you leave him and you come to me.” he whispers to you and tilts your chin up, his eyes telling you not to argue back. you do, of course.  “but—“ you aren’t even sure why you hesitated either. “no buts, the fuck you need to stay with him for?” your son, you think to yourself but don’t say because he’s right. you’ve been checked out of this marriage a long time ago and the only reason why you stayed was for your son. now that you have rafe, it was time. “m’kay.” you agree and he gives you a nod, kissing your cheek again. “get back inside, it's cold.” rafe ushers you inside and doesn’t leave until he makes sure you’re inside the house. 

you get back into bed, back to your husband as he snores, that night you dream about rafe playing with your son in his backyard while you hold your baby girl. rafe comes over to you with a smile and takes the baby in his arms, bouncing her while he coos at her. 

a new shiny ring with a pretty diamond on your hand. 

#coach!rafe #soccermom!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe cameron fanfiction

[rinneverse]

cw just a crumb suggestive. minors do not interact. happy aventurine release day!! hope everyone who wants him gets him in their first 10 pull :>

aventurine likes to think his jealousy is subtle.

but really, after knowing him for so long, there are tiny slips in his facade, minuscule cracks in the mask that clue you into how he’s truly feeling.

they’re not easy to spot. his character is carefully crafted to be as flawless as possible; he’s a phenomenal actor and he doesn’t like to expose his true nature.

but you know him—you know him in ways no one else has seen before. you’ve seen him come unraveled, breathless and slick with sweat. you’ve seen him on his knees for you, eyes glimmering with want as he worships you. you’ve seen the way his nose scrunches slightly when he laughs, the way his eyebrows pinch together when he’s deep in thought, the way his left hand is always tucked behind his back during a gamble.

“you so were jealous,” you jab at your boyfriend, coy smile dancing on your lips as he scoffs and turns away.

“was not. i can only listen to that angel prattle on for so long, you know.”

“no need to deny it, vennie.”

the gambler turns your way. he gives you a brief once over before approaching you. he pushes into your space, forcing you to step back until your back hits the wall. he crowds you there, arm coming up to rest on the wall above your head. you’ve effectively been trapped.

"i'm not denying anythin' baby," aventurine huffs, bringing his face to yours. his warm breath ghosts against your lips. you find yourself wanting to tilt your head towards him, to brush your lips against his.

you resist yourself. you know exactly what he's gunning for here.

(you know you won't last very long. he'll always get what he wants in the end. you don't mind one bit.)

"i could literally see you glowering at him. you're not too subtle, you know?" at least not to you. not when you've come to know him in such intimate ways.

"i was bored—and hey, let's talk about the way he was lookin' at you. i didn't appreciate it one bit. that's what has me so worked up, since you're so convinced i'm jealous."

"he was just having a conversation with me??"

aventurine gives you an incredulous look, bringing his free hand up to squish your cheeks. you let out an indignant squeak.

"that's not how i saw it, sweetheart. c'mon, indulge me here. if i were him, i'd be lookin' at a pretty thing like you the way he was too. but doing that right in front of me? ugh," he sighs dramatically. "how're you gonna make it up to me? you were givin' all of your attention to him and i just don't think that's fair."

"when do you ever play fair?"

"i am right now, aren't i?"

you shoot him a look that screams absolutely not. but you sigh anyways, bringing your arms up to loop around his neck. the hand that holds your face loosens, then slowly trails down your body, coming to rest on your hip.

with a coy smile, you let your lips brush against his, feather-light and fleeting.

"fine, fine. i'll make it up to you. my eyes are only on you tonight, 'kay?"

aventurine smiles, dark and full of sinful promise.

"good. i think i'll take my time with you."

#☆ oakie writes #aventurine x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #can u guys tell i rlly like making him jealous .. i think its fun #possessive avennie <33 ugh #queuing this so it posts when his banner drops for NA :> #۫ ִ ׂ💭 a kiss for queue ◟♡ ˒ ⊹ ݁ ִ ۫

[bonefall]

Mapleshade Discourse O'Clock

It's that time again!!! SO I just kinda want to jot down all of my various thoughts about it as a story and just generally weigh in about Mapleshade.

I like the idea of Mapleshade more than the actual Mapleshade that is used throughout the books.

She has a really good gimmick-- to haunt Applekin though the generations. I don't like how they turn her into a generic "cat satan" for Tigerclaw's Fury and keep making her appear as a vain lackey demon.

I like her characterization in Mapleshade's Vengeance the most, of all her appearances.

But, I don't think my reading of the character depicted in MV is what the author intended.

See, I like MV as a story with no hero. The only blameless characters are the kittens who drowned and Perchpaw, while everyone else is some flavor of selfish, cruel, or vengeful. Everyone thinks they're in the right, but no one truly wins in the end.

Nothing about it was noble. Every tragedy that happened was utterly avoidable. In the end, everyone bears some responsibility for the pain and suffering that happened the day those children drowned.

BUT I'm pretty certain that the intended reading was that Mapleshade would be the one clearly in the wrong the whole time, as she justifies her own actions like a villain does.

Especially knowing how poorly the writers thought of similar female characters like Squilf and Leafp lying about the three, or Nightcloud being jealous her crummy husband is acting strange around another woman.

I feel justified in assuming that when Mapleshade is not happy she's being cheated on, or when she refuses to correct Frecklewish's record knowing it's unsafe if her kits are revealed as half clan, the writer really does think you're not supposed to take her side.

Because women should just not have emotions about being cheated on or something, and lying is unspeakably bad even if the truth puts you and your children in danger.

But. Y'know. We can all use the braincell for a moment and see that this is fucking stupid

SO when the book goes on to have Mapleshade ignore all the warnings about the swollen river, show both ThunderClan and RiverClan being obscenely cruel to her, and then walk across that bridge while insisting in her head that the deaths weren't her fault, I think the implication is obvious AND SHITTY.

Ergo I reject it completely. I can see what the book wants to say, and I think it says something trashy.

In spite of how badly the writer wants it to be Mapleshade's fault the kittens died, I say it was the asshole who threw a bunch of kittens out into the rain for being mixed race, actually.

Oakstar had the power here. Ravenwing had some power as well, but he makes it clear it wasn't his suggestion to throw the babies out into the woods.

And when it comes to Bridge Discourse, it was at least the afternoon, raining heavily, and Mapleshade was trying to get to RiverClan Camp. A straight shot across the stepping stones.

I think it is ridiculous to imagine an extremely emotional parent managing three very scared children, attempting to get out of the rain and dangerous wilderness before nightfall, would be rational enough to realize a large detour would be safer.

MAYBE the distance from ThunderClan Camp to the Bridge is equal to the distance to the Stones. But the distance between the bridge and RIVERCLAN Camp is longer.

I hope this goes without saying; but Frecklewish didn't deserve the Dark Forest.

Even in Banana World logic where she was sitting on the bank watching those kids doggy-paddle. Do not fucking jump in to save drowning people if you are not trained to do that.

I'm dead serious, this is the first thing you learn in any kind of water safety course. They WILL panic, you WILL get dragged down, you WILL become another liability someone else has to save instead of helping your initial target.

And that isn't even mentioning this being a flooded river. That's POOL safety.

In spite of how I think Mapleshade was right to lie, I do think Frecklewish being that upset and angry was understandable.

You're entitled to your feelings, but not how you treat people. She still attacked Mapleshade and called the kittens a slur.

That's what makes her interesting, though.

I don't think she deserves the Dark Forest, but Frecklewish's anger is an interesting trait. I don't like how a lot of defensive interpretations of her character end up downplaying how she acted at the exile

why does a woman being rightfully angry suddenly strike people as "unsympathetic." Girls can also say things in fury they don't fully mean. OR girls can rationalize their unjustified, ballistic response post-hoc out of pride.

Idk let girls be mad. Admit they were wrong without deserving HELL. I don't like the woobification impulse.

It's not really a hot take anymore I think, but Frecklewish is definitely only in the DF because the writing team judges women characters more harshly. Oakstar threw babies out in the rain in fury, and Ravenwing didn't stop it. But somehow only Frecklewish, a normal warrior, gets DF'd.

But what really rattles around in my head about the whole story is the way that the in-universe culture is able to suddenly value ethics like peace, forgiveness, and tolerance when MAPLESHADE is ready to throw those things out, but BEFORE then, it's well established that Clan culture is violent, vengeful, and intolerant.

One of our earliest scenes is Rainfall snarling at Mapleshade that he loves the way Birchface and Flowerpaw drowned. He's threatening that he'll kill even more ThunderClan warriors.

Over in ThunderClan, everyone is itching for revenge against Appledusk for those deaths, even though it seems to have been an accident. Oakstar even hates RiverClan well into sequel books for this.

But then later on, everyone acts Shocked Pikachu that Mapleshade actually went and GOT revenge.

And like, let's be real. This is a battle culture. Yes, by OUR standards Revenge Is Bad.

But in these books, so full of war and clan conflict...?

What I'm saying is that I wish the books let Mapleshade be a little more "controversial" in-universe. Like some cats actually frame the story very differently, and you can learn a lot about a person by who they think the hero is.

And how RiverClan responds to the drowned kids bugs me a lot tbh

We just established over in ThunderClan that there are people who think the babies were born filthy for being HalfClan.

We know everyone there stood by and watched as Oakstar threw them out into the rain-- only Ravenwing even seemed uncomfortable.

AND we know very well that in a few generations, TigerClan will rise. Which openly executed a HalfClan cat and wanted to kill 2 apprentices.

We KNOW the bigotry in Clan culture is deadly and unfair.

But then they go over to RiverClan and Darkstar is sad these three kids are dead? And RC is furious with Mapleshade for that?

Again, YES, you and me with OUR morals know that this bigotry is insane and spiteful. What I'm getting at is that IN-UNIVERSE half clan kittens and their parents face extreme discrimination. Even within this book.

It's odd to me that Darkstar refuses to let Mapleshade bury their bodies, sends her away for the death of the kids while saying it's "not the season for losing warriors" to Appledusk, and it's meant to come across as delusional that Maple thinks her babies were buried dishonorably

I wish more women in WC got so pissed off at the absolute injustice of it all that they went on a girl rampage. Perhaps it's my own taste, but I like it a lot more when the villain isn't entirely wrong and there's several angles you can read the story from. If she didn't do what she did, she would have been the only one who saw any consequences for anything that happened.

Anyway in conclusion uhhh idk murder is wrong. But Mapleshade's allowed to do it because she's a silly billy. Her greatest crime was not killing Oakstar also

#bone babble #Mapleshade #Mapleshade's Vengeance

[joonsytip]

Only for Love || Mingyu [Teaser]

Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au

Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?

Warnings: Reader is cold but also shy, Mingyu is gullible and impulsive, lack of communication, misunderstanding, miscommunication, reader is objectified once, hurt, crying, profanities, mentions of divorce, sexual intimacy, mentions of pregnancy, rest will be specified under the part when published

Dropping anyday, anytime.

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

"Let's get divorced."

When Mingyu came home late at night to see you awake and waiting for him, there was an uncanny feeling that settled within.

Your hands are crossed, face void of any expression. If not for your next words, Mingyu would think he's hallucinating.

"We can decide on the terms and clauses, all as per your convenience.", you stress, "I do not expect any trouble from your side."

Mingyu finally registers everything you have said till now and everything hits him all at once.

"W-What are you talking about? Why do you want a divorce all of a sudden?"

Your monotonous tone rather asks him another question, "We have been married for over two years, nearing it's third anniversary. Do you want to be tied in this marriage?"

Though Mingyu thinks he doesn't know you well enough but he knows you enough to catch the wind of your words.

His gaze turns towards his office room and his suspicion confirms to be correct when he sees the door opened ajar.

"Why did you enter my office? I had clearly warned you about not doing so.", he says in a strict voice.

"That doesn't answer my question.", you say getting up, "Anyways it doesn't matter anymore, I want you to move out of our shared bedroom right now and shift to the guest room. I'll get a lawyer, you get one too and proceed with the divorce."

As you turn back, you feel your husband's hand wrap around yours.

"How are you so calm? Why are you not asking me anything? Do I really mean nothing to you?", you hear a string of questions falling out of his lips, "We are married for almost three years now and your cool headedness after, I'm assuming, knowing everything makes me aware of the fact that I really don't know you."

You jerk your hand out of his grip and turn back to look at him, "And how is that my fault? Maybe you've never tried to know me.", your voice drops another octave, "You can stop with the doting husband act, now that I know the truth."

Mingyu doesn't miss the way your eyes show vulnerability for a moment. Your words strike a chord within him.

"I'll sleep in the guest room.", Mingyu says in defeat, "And we're gonna talk it out tomorrow morning.", he sounds sincere when he says, "I'm sorry. I hope you'll give me a chance to explain everything."

But little does he know, you've already closed the room for any diversions, that you've decided to part ways with the person who has betrayed your trust.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

#only for love #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen mingyu #svt mingyu #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x y/n #kim mingyu x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #mingyu smut #mingyu angst #mingyu fluff #mingyu fic #mingyu scenarios #mingyu fanfic #seventeen au #svt au #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt x you #svt x y/n

[missmugiwara]

A Secret

Summary: gn!reader x Luffy // What happens when you tell the captain a secret? Turns out, it makes him really happy! And he only wants more.

Warning: 18+, suggestive, very flirty, did I make Luffy a slight dom?

Note: I think one of my favorite things about writing for Luffy is that it's kind of hard. But he's my sweetie pie so I'm not complaining.

✦ Word count is 2.2k ✦

Luffy's strength was no secret.

Everyone knew that. It was also no secret that he always got stronger. Sometimes, it seemed like the Straw Hat Pirates were always moving from one adventure to the next, never taking a break. So how did Luffy have the time between fights to find new moves and new gears to try?

Maybe he didn't do it as much as Zoro, but there were instances where you caught the captain training. Sometimes it was on boring days like today where you happened to be parked at some random island for Franky to do routine maintenance to the Sunny.

Luffy's breath was heavy, mouth wide open to release hot pants. His red ruffle-sleeved shirt and yellow sash were chucked off to the side, bunched in a sloppy pile on the ground with his precious straw hat gingerly laid on top. His scarred chest heaved with each breath he took, muscles tensing deliciously. A thin layer of sweat covered his entire body, forming delicate beads of moisture to glisten in the sun. His hair splayed across his forehead and around his face in cute, damp waves from the moisture. It was certainly a sight to behold. The captain was positively mouthwatering, and only one thing crossed your mind at that moment.

You loved him so much.

It was always so hard to take your eyes off him. With feet crunching against the grass, you walked up some distance behind him and just silently admired. A tender smile etched its way onto your lips, and you sighed longingly at Luffy. He had one fist pulled back, while his other free hand - palm outstretched, thumb pointed downward - took aim at the air, and he punched. He repeated this move again and again, grunting and panting the entire time. As he continued with that focused, steady gaze in his eyes. As beads of sweat flew off his body.

He was so strong.

Did anyone ever tell him he looked so good?

A warm heat feathered over your cheeks, and your eyes perked up at the thought. And so, feeling rather bold, you snickered and took a step forward. You almost changed your mind. Then, using every ounce of courage, you merrily called after him.

"Luffy!"

The rubber man turned lazily to the call of his name. With an open-mouth releasing more pants, he tiredly smiled. And then his gaze grew more excited when he registered it was you of all people who called with such adoration. You, who was running toward him. You, who he could never get mad at. You, who lit up with joy every moment you saw him.

The sweetest face he had ever seen, and all his. Well, you were your own person - he didn't own you, and he knew that. But you were his. Somehow. His crewmate. His friend. His… something.

One day, he would gladly say the words: you're so much more to him. That much he knew, but what word could he use? Luffy always knew how to get right to the heart of things that needed saying most - but not today. Seeing your smile was enough, and there was way too much on his mind regarding everyone's safety in Wano.

"Do you wanna know a secret?" you grinned.

A secret? And just for his ears only? He already felt special enough with that smile you gave him. Nobody else ever got that smile.

You slowed to a stop when you collided into his back, pressing your chest to him. You didn't give him a chance to answer when you wrapped one arm around him, gently slapping your hand to his chest. The sweat upon him sticking you to him, and you did not care in the slightest how much it made your shirt wet. With the other free hand, you cupped it to his ear.

"Hey, did you know…" and you whispered into his ear, lips brushing against the shell of it as Luffy's eyes slowly widened.

The words were nearly lost in the breeze.

A red blush dusted over his cheeks, and his lips parted in response. Before he could turn and ask if you reeeally meant what you just said, you giggled and peeled yourself from him. You stepped back, hands clasped innocently behind your back and grinning so much that your eyes clamped shut.

"Huh? Really?" Luffy asked in disbelief.

"Oh, yes!" you nodded your head erratically.

Luffy still stared in shock, and you still smiled. There was a pause before the captain blinked at you, then smirked. He stood a bit taller and a bit prouder, puffing out his chest. He turned back but to a tree this time, taking his usual fighting stance. His fist flew back, and then forward as he launched it into the tree - completely breaking it in two as it fell to the ground with a loud thud. A few of your friends looked up in worry at the loud noise, then disregarded it once they realized it was just Luffy being Luffy. You beamed widely as ever, before giving a wave and returning to your spot next to Robin. She was seated underneath an umbrella and sipping tea.

She smiled and poured a cup for you. Trying not to come off as pyring, she asked, "What did you tell Luffy to put him in such a good mood?"

You grabbed the cup of tea and smiled profusely. She wouldn't dare tease you like the others if you answered honestly. Robin could be told things you could not tell others. And she knew you liked the captain very much so.

"I just told him… well, I said: hey, did you know that you're really sexy?"

Robin seemed surprised at the unexpectedly brazen comment. She was looking down at her cup, then her blue eyes immediately darted to meet yours. You said that to Luffy? A pause before she grinned.

"Oh? Is that so? I'm happy for you."

And Luffy seemed pretty happy about it too.

It was a major risk you took that day, but since then you were smitten even moreso because he responded in such a… pleasant way. So Luffy was the kind of person who understood sex appeal. It was settled then - you wanted to flirt more. You wanted to be more vocal about how you felt. To drop more hints, as ironic as it was because Luffy didn't need subtlety; he needed blunt words. However, the rising butterflies in your stomach told you that testing the waters was further needed. It was really just an excuse to cover up a rising bout of shyness.

It seemed he was not as naïve as his crewmates thought, and he truly understood this game. And really, how did anyone not notice how attractive he was? Zoro and Sanji got attention all the time, but what about the captain? The star of the crew? He was certainly charming in his own ways. And so this game of yours did not let up anytime soon.

"Who's that good-looking guy in the straw hat?"

You waved at him, calling out with a hand cupped to your mouth. Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji walked toward the ship after being in town to buy supplies. Each of them had sacks of food tied to their backs, and Luffy broke out into a huge ear-to-ear smile. He laughed, a blush ever-present at his face. Zoro rolled his eyes, and Sanji's smile faded when he realized - oh, you were speaking to the captain, not him.

"Me? Oh, stop!" and Luffy would blush and blush, identical to the way he blushed when any of his crewmates said he was strong or reliable. The sight was too cute not to eat up. At least he was getting it now, because the first time you said that Luffy whipped his head around. With squinted eyes, he kept asking who was this guy until you bursted out laughing. This was really funny because it was so cute and so like him to do that.

"What a man."

You would purr so lowly when he passed by, especially if he had just defended the weak and beat someone up - panting, sweaty, delicious as usual. Boy, was being in Wano such a treat. Luffy's ears would prick at the sound of your honeyed tone, and sometimes they turned red. He would quickly turn to meet your lidded gaze, your eyes wandering up and down his shirtless self - and the blush would return to his face. He would break out into a loud laugh after he processed the words you graced him with.

The flirting was fun, truly. Yet sometimes you wondered if anything more would happen after all the effort. It had to, right?

What were you even waiting for?

Such questions did not cross your mind at this particular moment though. As usual, Robin and you were passing the time once again while the Sunny sailed off to another adventure. The topic of conversation was another good book you both had read in your little two-person bookclub. Luffy walked by, a tiny smirk at his lips, as you and Robin laughed about something silly in the last chapter.

Luffy froze once he got past far enough. Something was off. Quickly, he whipped his head around to furrow his brows in frustration. He pointed his gaze at you… and pouted. A cute grumble escaped his lips, and with his fists balled to his sides and arms swaying, he tromped right over.

Between the fits of laughter and conversing, you didn't even hear Luffy's feet crunch in the grass behind you - picking up speed. And what really took you by surprise was when one of Luffy's rubbery hands suddenly grasped your jaw between his thumb and fingers, and he turned your face so you could see him. It went without saying that the laughter immediately stopped, and you and the archaelogist froze in place.

You blinked once. Luffy just held your face, not enough to hurt you because he would never, as you two locked gazes. His breath felt hot on your lips. In turn, your own breath was caught in your chest as your face ignited into flustered heat because - well, because he never held you like this and at such closeness too. Something must have been troubling him.

"What's… what's wrong, captain?"

Oh, you were right about something being wrong. Luffy cocked his head to the side in an attempt to deepen his focus. He was really studying your face, and it only got warmer the more he stared.

"You didn't say anything!" he whined.

Another blink or two from you, and Luffy's grip loosened on your face.

"Loofs, I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"You didn't say anything… you know - fun and nice. To me. Like you always do."

Another moment for you to process, and the lightbulb went off in your head. Ohhh! He wanted another - oh, yes. You almost wanted to laugh because apparently it was really that much of a habit by now.

How dare you forget to take care of your precious captain?

With face still in his hand, your eyes darted off to the side. For the third time, your cheeks went even hotter. And you didn't know why this bout of shyness ran over you all of a sudden. Perhaps it was because you were the one always catching him off guard, flustering him so deeply. Not the other way around. So you took a second to think, but you hadn't planned anything yet for that day. So in a small voice, you answered him quickly, truthfully, and without much thought.

"Hottie."

You nearly moaned under your breath. The blush dusting over his rubbery cheeks and the wide smile he bore was enough to let you know he was satisfied. Robin sat in awe (you two completely forgot she was still there) but then brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle.

And Luffy grinned.

"Keep talking like that. I like it!"

Oh, the way he looked at you made your heart thrum in your chest. The way he held your face, making you lock eyes. Gently, he released your frazzled self. Your jaw dropped into a suprised, open-mouthed smile. Trying to ignore the fact that Luffy said he liked it, you diverted your attention to the first part of his somewhat confession.

"Oh, you think you can boss me around like that, huh?" You smirked, taking a playful tone to let him know you were joking.

Luffy was walking away, but he paused midstep. He turned his head to peek over his shoulder, his bright eyes staring directly into your soul. The wind blew to ruffle his jet black hair and the brim of his beloved straw hat before his eyes grew lidded.

"Of course! I'm the captain here. Besides… you looove doing what I say. You always do, and you never refuse."

With that, he walked off.

And there you sat, flustered to oblivion as you brought a hand to to cover your growing smile. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Robin wink.

#luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #op fanfic #one piece fanfiction #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d luffy x y/n #mugi writes

[xamag-draws]

BBR thoughts 2024

Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies

This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not

So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters

I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash

I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted

Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it

At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do

Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction

So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older

I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet

When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"

But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work

If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now

I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:

Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)

I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat

I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least

I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example

I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep

I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor

I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence

The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers

Some new Dolly outfits

Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days

Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo

I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused

One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book

An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well

So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)

#my art #xam rambles #the black brick road of oz

[ur-local-anti-hero]

Back to december

Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: Remus feels like he will regret that night the rest of his life, the marauders convince him to do something about it.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Second chance romance

CW: Remus being self-destructive and questioning his worth.

Word count: 1.8K

This is part of my Speak now (Marauders' Version) collection.

“So this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you, Saying I'm sorry for that night. And I'd go back to December all the time

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you. Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine”

Remus sighed, his eyes were fixed into someone across the great hall. He was sitting with the marauders at their usual place, his fork was playing with the food in front of him, he hadn’t been able to eat ever since that night. 

“Come on mate, tell us what’s wrong. You’ve been sighing the whole dinner.” Sirius’ voice made him turn to him, seeing his three friends looking at him with worry written in their faces. 

“Nothing is wrong, I’ve already told you” Remus replied with the same excuse he had been using for days.

“Yeah and that’s why you’ve been looking at Y/N like a kicked puppy for the last week” James retored. “Tell me again, why did you two break up?” 

“How many times are you going to ask me that?” Remus sighed, tired of repeating the same conversation over and over with his friends. 

“Until you tell us the truth” Peter urged. 

“I’ve been telling you the truth, we wanted different things, the relationship wasn’t working” 

“Remus” Sirius’ voice was stern, and the lack of a nickname while referring to his best friend was jarring. “You two were the epitome of love, I had never seen you smile as much as you did with her, like, never.” 

“It’s hard to believe you, not even a day before you broke it off you were looking at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Your words, not mine.” James insisted. 

And he was right, Remus had never been as happy as he had been while dating you. The choice of breaking things off had been all his. He loved you so much it was terrifying, at some point all he could think about was how long he had left before you realised what he really was and you left him for someone better. You deserved someone better. 

“I really hope this has nothing to do with your monthly problem.” Peter’s voice was low, only for the four of them to hear. 

Remus couldn’t help it, he stiffened. Peter had nailed it and he wasn’t ready to let his friends know about how deep his insecurities really run. But, they noticed his frame changing from exhausted to on guard, Remus didn’t even say anything before the rest of the marauders understood what had happened. 

“Is that true Remus, did you break up with her because of that? I thought she already knew?” Sirius asked quietly, his previous anger now replaced with symphaty.  

“She knows now, and it doesn’t matter, just drop it. I’m done with the interrogation” Remus snapped at them before getting up and leaving the great hall, leaving his friends with dumbfounded expressions behind. 

───✥───

Lily meant well and you knew it, but if she kept asking you if you were okay you might explode. 

“How are you, Y/N?” Lily asked you, for the fourth time in the last hour. 

Ever since Remus had broken up with you Lily had been sitting next to you through all the meals, leaving her boyfriend's side, and afterwards she would walk you to your dorm. You appreciated her company and her friendship, but she was also a constant reminder that things were not as they were before, and therefore she was a constant reminder of your heartbreak. 

“I’ll be fine” was the answer you settled for every time she asked.

“I talked to James.” Lily hesitated before speaking “Are you really okay? He told me why you and Remus broke up…” 

Your eyes widened at that, if James had really told Lily about your break up that meant Lily knew about Remus being a werewolf, and as far as you were concerned he had never pushed her out of his life as he had done when you had been the one to bring it up. 

“You knew about…that?” you decided to keep it as vague as possible in case James had made something up to stop Lily from asking more details. 

She nodded “Ever since fourth year” 

“Did he tell you?” You needed to know, your hands were now shaking and your heart was racing. 

“No, I figured it out. Just like you did '' Lily's words calmed you down a little, if he had been able to confide in Lily but had never felt safe enough to tell you it would’ve made you feel awful. 

“The moment I brought it up he cut me off, we didn’t even have the chance to discuss it. He just broke up with me.” It was the first time you were being honest about it, and it just made everything hurt like if Remus was breaking up with you all over again. 

Lily stepped closer to you before wrapping you in a tight hug, her arms stroking your back in an attemp to comfort you. 

“I think you should talk to him, try to make things right again.” she whispered. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, he probably doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.” 

“Somehow I doubt that.” 

Maybe Lily was right, but you would never be brave enough to even try to prove her right.

───✥───

After storming out of the great hall Remus had locked himself in his dorm, he didn’t want any of the marauders to give him a speech about how he couldn’t let his lycanthopy affect his relationships. Because it had already affected the most important one he had. 

But of course his friends wouldn’t grant his wishes. 

“Remus, let me in, I want to talk with you. Please” Sirius was nothing but persistent. “Come on Moony, you know I’m not leaving.” 

Remus sighed, he’d been doing that a tad lately, but decided to let Sirius in. He wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, and he preferred to talk with him alone and not wait for James and Peter to join Sirius. 

When he opened the door Sirius didn’t waste a second and barged in, going directly to sit on Remus’ bed. 

“Oh, yes of course, make yourself at home on my bed.” Remus scoffed at him. 

“Come sit, Moony” 

Remus didn’t have the strenght to fight him, so he walked towards his bed and sat next to Sirius.

“What happened when she found out?” He wasn’t going to waste any more time. 

“She confronted me about it, asked me why I hadn’t told her.” Remus said sadly 

“Was she judgemental, was she scared or disgusted?” Sirius inquired, he knew you well, and you weren’t anything but lovely and understanding, being disgusted by Remus’ lycanthropy was not something he pegged you to be. 

“I didn’t give her the chance to really express what she thought of it” Sirius gave him a look of encouragement for him to continue. “I broke up with her before she could say something.” 

“Why?” 

“I think that if she had rejected me at that moment I would have never recovered from it, I was terrified.” He said, his words showing a rare vulnerability. 

“Do you regret it? Not giving her a chance. Do you really think she would’ve hated you?” 

“I regretted it the moment she walked out of the door, but I couldn’t risk it” 

“I think you should give her the chance, talk with her.” Sirius patted his shoulder

“If she didn’t hate me then, she defintely does now. She deserves better.” 

“I believe it’s not your call to choose what she does or does not deserve, give her the chance.” 

Maybe Sirius was right. 

───✥───

The Gryffindor common room was not very crowded after curfew, usually only a few seventh year students were spotted working on their class work after being kicked out of the library. 

But these days you would only find comfort on the couch in front of the fireplace, even if it was not a substitute for Remus’ warmth during the cold nights of december, it was the best you found. 

The quiet crack of the wood being burned and the weight of your blankets lulled you to sleep, your eyes were closed and your breathing slow, you were finally falling asleep when the weight of another body made the couch shift. 

“Y/N '' your name was called very quietly, barely above a whisper, but you could recognise the voice anywhere. 

“Remus” your eyes opened and you sat up, straightening yourself

Remus was sitting right next to you, far enough for his thighs to not touch you, but close enough for you to be able to read his expression in the dark room .

“Can we please talk?” He was fidgeting with his hands, clearly nervous of how this conversation was going to go. 

You hugged yourself before nodding. Then a beat of silence 

“I’m sorry.” you both said at the same time. Another silence took over the room before you both chuckled awkwardly. 

“I’m really sorry Y/N, I shouldn’t have cut you off like that. I was scared and I was impulsive, I know I can’t excuse my behaviour, and you don’t have to forgive me but I needed you to know.” He took a deep breath before continuing 

“I have never felt what I feel for you before, and only the thought of you leaving because of my lycanthropy terrified me. And the moment you confronted me about it I thought it was better if I was the one leaving. But I regretted it the moment I saw the tears in your eyes, and when you walked out of the door all I wanted was to take my words back. And I regret it every time I see you across the great hall instead of next to me. Words can’t begin to show how sorry I am.” 

Remus was now crying, he wasn’t the only one, your eyes had started to water the moment he started talking. You took his hand on yours before speaking. 

“It’s okay Rem, I forgive you. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I would hate you for being you” you said sincerely. 

There was a brief moment of silence in which you looked each other in the eyes, they were filled with tears, but also love. You swore no one had ever looked at you like that before.

"Can we try again, please?" He asked 

You didn't even answer, throwing yourself at his arms, which embraced you with the familiar warmth you desperately craved. 

"I've missed you so much, please never leave again" you sobbed into his chest 

"I won't, I promise" he said, placing a kiss on your temple. 

Maybe Remus should listen to Sirius' advice more often if they were going to help him get the love of his life back. 

Author's note: I'm so proud of this one I think it's super duper cute. I'm also dying with uni work at the moment, wish me luck, love u all <33 Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Series' taglist: @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsimp @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 

#remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #marauders fandom #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders era #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #remus fanfic #remus x reader #remus lupin #remus x you #remus lupin x you #marauders #remus lupin x y/n

[doe-eyed-fool]

Hi, I just discovered your page and am enjoying the Alastor and Lucifer fics, I was wondering if you could do an Alastor x Reader Wedding edition from Proposal/ Ceremony/Honeymoon? and also a tidbit of their marriage/Parenthood? Same for Lucifer? if it's not too much?

Married Life

Alastor x Reader | Lucifer x Reader

Thank you! I'm glad you like my fics, it makes me very happy! Enjoy~

Alastor

Proposal-

Alastor never thought he'd love someone like he does you. All his life he's gone without the need for romance. He's never had any interest in such things. But then you came along, and turned everything upside down.

You made him feel things he never thought he could. Of course these things take time, and even longer for Alastor. He had to make sure he was serious about this. He had to make sure you were serious about this. He would not give his heart to just anyone. You had to earn it and his trust.

And earned it you did. Yes he never thought he'd find love in all his years living and in death. Even more so, he never thought he'd ever do something like this. But here he was, on one knee, asking for your hand in marriage. Of course you said yes, and he couldn't have been happier.

Ceremony-

The wedding would most likely take place in Cannibal Town. Rosie would have been a huge help in arranging the ceremony. After all, Alastor was a good friend, and she'd do anything for him and his soon to be bride/groom. She would even be the one to wed you both.

Husk believe it or not, was Alastor's best man while Mimzy was your maid of honor. (and you know she injured a few girls to catch that bouquet)

Alastor couldn't ignore the sudden quickening pace of his heart as you walked down the isle. His smile was genuine, and his chest fluttered with excitement as you approached. (if he wasn't hiding his tail everyone would have seen it wagging)

Alastor silently dared anyone to speak up when the whole "object now or forever hold your peace" part came up. And best believe that crowd was silent.

When you both were offically married, Alastor held you close as he kissed you softly. The kiss may have lasted a bit too long, but again, no one dared to speak up and ruin this moment.

Honeymoon-

Alastor would have planned a trip to the Wrath Ring (let's forget sinners can't travel through the rings), where you'd stay in a lovely cabin in the woods. It sorta reminded Alastor of home, being in the woods. It was peaceful considering the area. Nice and secluded too, you wouldn't be disturbed.

And if someone tried, well, Alastor would quickly see that taken care of...

There was a large meadow within the woods behind the cabin. The two of you could stay there for hours, just listening to the sounds of nature all around. It was a much needed break from the city life back in the Pride Ring.

Alastor was a wonderful cook and impressed you every day with a delicious meal. He'd even teach you how to cook certain dishes that his mother taught him. (she would have been so proud of him)

The two of you didn't want it to end, but alas, it was nearing time for you to return. Not to worry, there would be plenty more trips like this planned for you two newlyweds.

Parenthood-

This was a huge step for Alastor. He's never disliked children by any means, but having his own...

Nothing really scared Alastor (that we know of), but this was... something that kept him "on edge". Of course, there would need to be a very long and thought out discussion about having children. Alastor would also need some time to really think about it. He was thankful you would allow him that time, no matter how long it took.

Eventually, he would come to a decision. If you two have children of your own, he'd still be nervous. But once he see his newborn in your arms, something stirs deep within him. He just stared at it for a while, then he worked up the courage to actually hold them. And that was what did it.

There was that genuine smile again, that same thump in his chest again. Pride was a good word for it, but love was better. Alastor was sure right then, he didn't need to be worried anymore, or ever again.

If you two adopt, he will love the child all the same. He'd teach them how to cook, how to play piano, and absolutely how to defend themselves. Alastor couldn't have been more proud when his child picked up a few skills he taught them.

Alastor's children would be just as deadly as him eventually, but he would always look out for them and protect them from whatever threatens to harm them.

Lucifer

Proposal-

This man has never been more nervous in his life. He wanted this so bad, and he'd be damned if he lets his fear get in the way. You weren't Lilith, you wouldn't leave him like she did. If he thought you would, he wouldn't be working up the nerve to propose to you.

Lucifer would do everything romantic he could think to do for this proposal. It would happen at his home, private you know? A nice dinner he made himself. Romantic music. Soft lighting. Rose petals scattered here and there. He even dressed himself in his best suit for the occasion.

Lucifer was practically shaking when you showed up. He got some relief when you admired how everything was set up. He would wait for just the right moment before asking the big question.

He was absolutely over the moon when you said yes, he even cried a little....a lot. He cried a lot, sobbing practically. He was just so damn happy you wanted to marry him.

Now all he had to do was plan the perfect wedding...

Ceremony-

When Lucifer told Charlie that you and him were getting married, she was just as emotional as he was. She insisted you two got married in the hotel. Of course you agreed. So sure, why not?

Charlie and Lucifer would be working double time to make sure everything was perfect. And of course everyone else helped out too. When Charlie had a free moment, she and Vaggie would take you dress/suit shopping. Angel insisted he come along too, cause you're not going to go shopping for such an event without him. He knew how to dress to impress after all.

Charlie would be Lucifer's best woman, because there is no way in literal hell is he going to ask Alastor. While Angel would be your maid of honor. And of course Fat Nuggets would be the ring bearer, as per Angel's request. No arguments there.

If you thought Lucifer was emotional during the proposal, you should see him as you make your way down the isle. He was so excited that he couldn't even get mad that Alastor was the one walking you down. All he could see in this moment was you.

Once you reach him, you take his hands and you could see the love in his eyes. Husk would be the one to wed you both, even his grumpy self was smiling as he pronounced you both married. Lucifer wasted no time as he dipped you and kissed you so very passionately. He almost forgot there were people watching, so he eased up a bit. For now...

Charlie couldn't have been more happy for her dad. She gave him a warm hug before watching you two join hands and walk the isle. Soon you two would be off on your honeymoon.

Honeymoon-

Your honeymoon would be spend in the Sloth Ring. (again, let's just forget sinners can't travel through the rings lol) It was one of the more relaxing places in Hell, and that's what your honeymoon would be about. Relaxation. And of course it would be spent to the very last second filled with love and affection.

Lucifer would have rented a beautiful air bnb home, right on the lakeside. It was perfect for spending time on the deck and watching the pentagram sun set.

Lucifer would have also planned all sorts of fun things to do on the honeymoon. Some activities for couples, but mostly just having fun doing whatever.

Ya'll just know Lucifer would be an excellent cook. Every night he would make a delicious meal for the two of you. He'd let you help out too if you wanted. You might even learn something new.

The last night spent there would be the most romantic night of all. The two of you stayed in and slow danced to an old song you both loved. You don't know how long you stayed in each other's arms, but you didn't care. Neither of you wanted it to ever end.

And it never would, now that you two would spend the rest of eternity together.

Parenthood-

This next step would be big for the both of you. Lucifer was worried about being a parent again, after what happened with him and Charlie. He didn't want to mess up again and ruin the relationship he would have with his next son/daughter.

He was grateful you were there to ease his worries. He wanted so badly to make up for his past mistakes. He was already trying his best to be a better father for Charlie, he would be sure to do the same for his next kid.

If you gave birth to his baby, there would be a new swell of pride within him. You and him created such a beautiful thing together. And he would love this baby unconditionally and protect you and them with his very life.

If you two adopt, he would be just as happy. He had the chance to give this child a better life than they had. He'd love them and care for them, and would always keep them safe.

Charlie would be excited to be a big sister, which made Lucifer happier than anything. He loved his kids so much. He loved you so much. In the end, Lucifer would never let anything happen to his family.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader

[lynnlovesthestars]

Could I request headcanons for Harleep, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with kind and patient gn s/o? This is quite self-indulgent of me because I have been told I'm too nice & so patient so I'm curious how they would react XD

first of all sorry for being so late, but my small brain has to process things multiple times to make sense, so i wrote this like... 5 times? So it takes me a while, but i hope that waiting was worth it.

Also i saw you sent a second ask to see if i recieved this one, so ill put dammon and rolan there cause this is starting to get a bit long:3<3 thank you so much for your patience!:3

Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird

Headcanon: BG3 men with kind and patient s/o. (pt. 1)

Zevlor:

Zevlor is emotionally a wreck already, he considers kindness a virtue and it definitely makes him swoon when he notices you put extra care in making sure he's treated with kindness. At the end of the day, he basically got bullied on all fronts when all he really wants is to prove himself worthy of the title he carried for so long.

Zevlor has a short temper too, and he appreciates so much your effort and patience in dealing with his outbursts, whether they are of rage- not towards you of course- or of sadness, you offer always a shoulder for him and he cherishes it so much.

He is lowkey jealous when he notices that your kindness is not mostly exclusive to him, he has learned that people can abuse one's patience and care, and 1. he doesn't want you to get hurt, 2. he wishes your kindness was maybe reserved to him. Call him selfish, but after being deprived of it for so long, he is hesitant to let go of it.

Astarion:

Initially he would be very wary, in his experience being nice always lead to him getting hurt, so why would he trust someone who's default reply is kindness? At the end of the day the last time someone was '''''kind''''' to him, he was turned in a vampire spawn, so he takes it extra slow, he has just regained control over himself, he won't blindly accept kindness. He's lowkey afraid you are just part of a bigger scheme that will bite him in the ass and leave him shackled and caged again.

Once he gets accustomed to your kindness and finally accepts it, he revels in the kindness you offer and your patience, especially the smallest gestures like opening a door for him. He will literally melt for it, he's already smitten, your kindness leaves him like mush in your hands.

Nevetheless every good side, comes with a negative one. He is dead afraid your kindness will bring you to get hurt. He often reminds you to be weary and keep all your kindness for people you trust (HIM), rather than going around and helping every lost soul that asks for help. He will fight you on this a few times- especially if you do get hurt or it is obvious you are about to- he will not bite his tongue and keep it for himself, and that's one of the moments when he's glad you are patient.

You understand where it comes from and you try your best to find a solution that would make both happy. Your patience of course doesn't stop there, he knows he's an handful: he carries an heavy trauma baggage and he has a feisty personality, yet you always show him you don't mind, that you are there for him and that he can take all the time of the universe to sort his problems out.

Wyll:

Wyll would find it so endearing, how you are ready to go to someone's aid, you stop on your tracks to support someone in need, and he would love seeing you being kind to everyone. It's probably one of the reasons why he falls in love with you. Unlike Astarion he encourages you to be kind to everyone, cause he considers it a virtue, he incourages you to be the best version of yourself, and he reminds you that if you do get hurt, he will be there to pick up the pieces.

As far as patience goes, he's grateful to the moon and back, he knows he is an handful, especially if he doesn't break his pact with Mizora and has to leave more times than ever. He makes sure once he's back though that he makes up for lost time, whether it is with gifts or by taking care of you.

Haarlep:

Harleep is so used to Raphael that honestly he's taken aback at first, living in the hells means that kindness is hard to come by and around Raphael? It's either a trick or a miracle, so he brushes it off, not repelled like Astarion would, but definitely not eager like Wyll either.. he would be probably the one that takes it as it is, just.. that. But when he gets used to it? He becomes unsufferable. So unsufferable that he goes around demanding Raphael to be treated with kindness and patience! He purrs whenever you are nice even the smallest, thanking you and praising you like a goddess. He even tries to be nice himself- to you only- and despite it has to be and effort, since he has never been exposed to much kindness, he does become a little more mindful, even asking before taking your form or just with small acts of services.

One time Rapahel makes sure to send a message to you through him. "Tav, Raphael asked you stop being nice to me, cause if i demand it from him as well, he's going to turn me into fertilizer", message delivered with a pout that begs exactly the opposite.

Harleep is another that is deeply afraid of your kindness. Let's be real, you can defend yourself as much as you want, but people tend to use people and your kindness is one of those characteristics evil people would pry on- he knows well since its literally part of what he does, and a facet of what Raphael does as well. He probably scolds you a lot for this reason, he does it in a sweet way- don't get me wrong- he sugarcoats the shit out of it, but he will let you know when you are about to get in peril or you are too careless with your kindness.

Gale:

Gale is touched by your kindness, already from the first days after meeting him.

You had helped him out of his blotched portal, you fed him artifacts, you didn't question his secrets or push him to reveal anything, and he doesn't give that for granted. Once he's closer to you, and he learns that you are unconditionally kind to everyone, he's scared.

He starts warning you to be a little less nice, to use your judgement before you blindly trust a stranger, but he doesn't push it past a warning. As much as he wants to protect you, he doesn't want to take away your chance to grow from your errors.

In matter of your patience he's so grateful, he spends days thanking you when he's still afflicted with the orb condition, he cooks as a form of apology or thanks depending what he did, he gets baths started for you, he's treating you as a queen/ king. He alread would do it, but with you? He's even more protective, he almost feels like he has to match your kindness and patience with as much attentions he can muster.

Halsin:

Halsin is a fair man you think he wishes everyone was kind, but he actually wants you to be fair, he wants you to be mindful of who you give kindness to, he wants you to be a reasonable judge rather than unconditionally nice cause it is the way of the nature as well. Nature is not only nurturing and lush, it's also the poisonous vipers and herbs.

Does he appreciate when you are kind? Absolutely, he thinks it's the best gift Silvanus has ever bestowed him, but it doesn't take away the fact that he wants you to be treated kindly as well, so the moment someone crosses the line and starts abusing your kindness or becomes rude, he's definitely stepping in to s h a m e the other person. "You are lucky you have met Tav, cause they are kind, but nature wouldn't be so understanding and patient" He says it with a rage you rarely see in his eyes.

He will do his best to remind you to surely practice kindness but also to be mindful who you help and who you are kind to, cause there's always rotten that can harm you, and lowkey if you get hurt he will invite you to take back what you gave.

Despite this Halsin considers kindness the bare minimum a person should be, and what stops him from encouraging you to be kinder, its just the knowledge that you might get hurt.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 x reader #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #vault: lynn ☆ #ask: lynn ☆ #asklynn☆: request #halsin x reader #halsin bg3 #halsin x tav #tav x halsin #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #zevlor x tav #bg3 haarlep #haarlep #haarlep x tav #haarlep x reader #gale x gn!reader #gale x reader #gale x tav #gale x oc #gale x durge #wyll x reader #wyll x tav

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

clarisse la rue x reader where the reader and clarisse are bsfs and reader is being bullied by a couple of aphrodite girls, and clarisse find out and flips out then clarisse confesses :))) i love your writing!!

THATS MY BEST FRIEND....RIGHT? . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

pairing: clarisse la rue x iris!fem!reader

warnings: swearing, violence (mentions of physical assault - clarisse calling the girls out), teenagers being bitches and calling ppl names

a/n: this was soo cute to write omg. this also would've been out sooner but then tumblr shut down before i had the chance to save it 😭

if you walked up to any camper and asked them which two campers were best friends every single on of them would go clarisse and y/n.

it was like a second nature to them by now.

clarisse a daughter of ares and y/n a daughter of iris. not the most likely duo, but you fit. you clicked in a way you hadn't with anyone else.

you were the only person who could talk clarisse down when she was worked up. and she was the only person who could break through to you when you were lost in your world of paints and colors.

you had first met clarisse your third week at camp. you were sitting in the stands watching campers spar - well watching was a stretch, you were actually painting - and clarisse had finished up with the camper she was fighting. she had walked up the stands and plopped straight down next to you with a huge grin on her face. it had been almost irresistible to not look back up at her with a matching smile.

that was the first time someone had ever managed to pull you away from your paintings. it wasn't the last.

from then on you and clarisse had practically been inseparable. you were the camp's unofficial official bsf's.

clarisse.

your mind often drifts to clarisse when you paint. her soft skin, curly luscious hair, and adorable smile. they constantly popped into your mind - it was hard not to paint something clarisse related honestly.

"hey you." a presence drops beside you on the grass.

"hi," you offer softly, looking up from your painting which surprise surprise was a painting of clarisse.

"ooh i like this one," she says pointing at the now dry canvas - how long were you staring at it?? "it really brings out my eyes."

you dip your head blushing. "uh thanks."

"hey," clarisse says tilting your head up. "don't be embarrassed. i love it. its one hundred percent going with my collection." her gentle touch sends tingles through your skin and causes you to blush even more.

she grins and picks up the painting, "im gonna put it with the others in my cabin, i'll be right back." clarisse picks the painting up not even listening to your protests of how its technically not finished and races off to her cabin.

you sit the and pull out another canvas, determined to not paint clarisse twice in one morning, its happened before.

"look at the ugly ass painter and her little canvas," a sneer comes from in front of you. you don't hear them already lost in your world of paints.

"what shit painting are you doing now?"

you still don't hear them. the only way you could notice their presence was the shadow above you - but again you're still wrapped in a world of colors merging and dancing over the canvas.

you're painting a bouquet of wildflowers. the colors blending perfectly together. you're immensely happy with they ways its turning out but then voices start to break through your haze.

"hey bitch? are you ignoring me?"

"art slut? did you hear me? that's the ugliest thing ever and i'm not talking about the painting."

a hand whips across your face and someone rips you away from the painting. "you in there art bitch?" you finally notice the four aphrodite girls standing in front of your.

the same four girls have been terrorising you for months. and they're careful, never coming up to you whenever clarisse is around. right now? perfect example.

two hands grip you arms to keep you back and the main girl, ellie, steps forward picking up your painting and a handful of dirt.

"NO!" you shriek lurching forward.

"what you don't like my improvements? i made it match. the dirt is the same color of this shit." she looks at you with malice. "and for the final touch," she stabs a nearby stick straight through ripping the painting to shreds.

tears are springing to you eyes.

your painting. YOUR PAINTING.

"aww are you crying?" ellie smirks and then steps forward picking your paints up and pouring them straight onto you. she steps forward and smears it across you writing slut and bitch across your front. you try and squirm as the second girl steps forward with handfuls of dirt and sprinkles it over you.

tears are freely streaming down your face now and you slump, the fight leaving you quickly.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" a loud voice booms behind you all.

the four girls freeze, letting you go.

you fall forwards a sob escaping your mouth at the sight of your painting.

your painting.

"what the ever loving hell are you doing?" clarisse's voice is deadly calm and she stalks towards y/n collapsed on the ground.

the aphrodite girls all step back from you and clarisse takes a single step forward. "we weren't doing anything!" the two who were holding you say panicked.

"no you were doing something," clarisse stalks closer the girls back pedalling in fear. "you were holding my best friend back while those two bitches assaulted her."

"we weren't assaulting her!" the girl beside ellie shrieks. "it was just a joke!"

"you one hundred were assaulting her." clarisse points to you. "does this look like someone who thinks its a joke?"

"well if she wasn't such a bitch and listened to me the first time i talked we wouldn't have had to," ellie seethes.

clarisse snaps.

she practically flies on top of the girls - and yes girls, plural. clarisse crash tackles ellie and the other girl to the ground sending punches to their faces. "motherfucking bitches," she spits and she yanks on a handful of hair.

shrieks and cries come from the girls causing campers to come over and watch the scene unfold. now look, you're not exactly an extremely popular camper, but everyone knows you and likes you, your sweet to nearly everybody you meet so when they see you on the ground covered in paint and dirt, their surprised looks turn into egging clarisse on to get a better hit. some other ares kids join in happy to put some bitchy aphrodites back in their place.

your siblings gasp in unison when they see you helping you off the ground and picking up the strewn paint bottles and shredded painting sending death glares that hades would be proud of.

"why is this such a big deal?" ellie laughs from beneath clarisse. "you act like you're in love with her."

"of course i am!" clarisse all but roars sending more punches into her. only stopping when several of her siblings hauled her off ellie because chiron and mr d had shown up.

they both - well chiron - looked at you with sympathetic eyes telling your siblings to help you get cleaned up and to lay down for a while.

you didn't hear them. you didn't hear anything but clarisse's voice.

you act like you're in love with her.

of course i am.

of course i am.

of course i am.

you couldn't think of anything else as you showered, washing away the paint, dirt and tears. you didn't think of anything else when your siblings guided you back into your cabin and into bed. you didn't think of anything else as you fell asleep.

you didn't think of anything else until you felt the mattress dip next to you, a warm hand stroking your forehead, stirring you from your sleep.

"hey you," clarisse smiles down at you.

"hi," you whisper.

"today's been shit huh?" she looks down at you with concern.

"yeah..."

"how are you feeling?"

"better," you smile gently, it fades when you work up the nerve to say. "hey about earlier-"

"i'm sorry for flipping out," clarisse says. "its just that she was saying all that shit about you, and i hated it, you looked so broken and small on the ground and i, just snapped, im so sorry, really, i am. i shouldn't have done that without checking on you first but i knew if i did that, that bitch was going to get away with it. im so so sorry, y/n. please forg-" you cut her off in a moment of boldness sitting up and placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

clarisse sits there stunned, her mouth slightly gapes open and you smile at her.

"did you mean it?" you ask hoping she understand you were talking about her earlier 'of course i am' outbreak.

she closes her mouth and nods speaking softly, in a nervous way. "yeah, i meant it."

"good. because i feel the same way."

clarisse lights up at that, a huge grin spreading across her face. "really?"

"really."

you intertwine your hands together grateful then that the cabin was empty - clarisse probably cleared it out when she came to visit. you'd never admit this to her, but quiet a few of your siblings are scared of her.

you grin back at her and pull her face down to connect with yours feeling the colors explode into the world, light dancing around the two of you in a beautiful circle.

maybe today hasn't been too bad after all.

a/n: unedited! this made me giggle and smile wayyyy to much lmao

©strawberries-and-summer-days please do not steal, use or repost my works.

#clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse x y/n #percy jackson #pjo #fanfic #fanfiction #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆

[cozycottagetarot]

PAC: How Can You Break The Cycle

Messages From Elle: We did it guys!😮‍💨

Notes:

This PAC Covers:

What is the cycle?

What keeps it going?

What will it take to break it?

What could that look like for you? (Patreon Extended)

‼️ THIS READING IS MEANT FOR SELF-REFLECTION AND ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY -- While this reading does broach topics relating to mental health & mindset, contain a bit of advice and reflective questions, IT'S IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM MEANT TO REPLACE PROFESSIONAL ADVICE OF ANY KIND. Please use your discretion, think carefully before you act and only take what resonates be it a little, some or none at all. ‼️

Paid Readings -- Open 🥂

PILE 1 (Brick Wall)

Current Energy

Cards: 10 of cups, The Empress, The Chariot

I feel as though you’re currently in this energy where things couldn’t be better…. But then why are you here? I know that's my job to figure out but still. I feel like you’ve been making strides to create the life that you want. You’re charging forward, becoming more disciplined and things are starting to feel warm.

The cycle that needs to be broken:

Cards: The Wheel of Fortune, Nine of Wands, Page of Pentacles, Four of Wands

The cycle that needs to be broken is one of constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’re tired of fighting or always fending off the downward turn of the wheel of fortune and while you may try to keep your faith that things can get better and stay better, you're always expecting things to get bad again. You could be worried the new beginning won't start, the relationships won't come, or the financial abundance won't find you. I think this fear or vigilance has such a tight hold on you, that you end up not taking action. You may need to readjust your game plan. You don't allow yourself to relax. You don't allow yourself to celebrate your wins… you're always in this state of hyper vigilance.

What keeps the cycle going?

Cards: The Sun, The High Priestess, Two of Pentacles, Seven of Pentacles

I don’t think you really allow yourself to be happy. That may be the current energy I was picking up on as well. When things are going great you don’t really let them go great. I also think you’re neglecting the things that are really important to you inside… maybe so much that you don’t even know what those things are anymore. Not knowing how to navigate this internal world of yours keeps fueling this cycle of 'oh, what bad thing will happen next?' You may also have a hard time making decisions or generally deciding what you want, floating back and forth between options. This back-and-forth stops you from actually putting in the work it takes to succeed and enjoy the FULL results, therefore keeping the cycle going. Another thing I picked up on is maybe the wheel keeps turning back and forth as well because from going back and forth all the time, you’re never really getting to move past the lessons you may need to learn in order for you to reach your desired outcome or abundance.

What will it take to break this cycle:

Cards: Seven of Cups, Five of Cups, Two of Cups, Ace of Pentacles

If you want to break this cycle, you have to make a decision on what exactly it is you want. It might mean leaving behind something, but you have to remember that so much more also awaits you in the process. Stop dwelling on what has gone 'wrong' before, especially if it’s past events that influence your lack of decision. It's okay to have that vigilance and use the past to better navigate the future-- HOWEVER, it's also important to get honest with yourself about whether it's a valid concern or a fear talking. It's time to change your mindset to focus on what can go right. I think also there will be someone available to help you once you make a decision about what you want to pursue. The alternate I'm getting is that you have to allow yourself to lean on others if you want to break the cycle. This could be through personal and professional relationships. But you have to actually decide yes, this is what you want. It doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to change as you grow, but first, you have to plant the seed. Once your seedling sprouts you can cultivate your plant however you’d like. There’s a lot out there available to you but making the decision to move towards it is where it begins.

Want to know what those steps might look like for you? Consider checking out my Patreon for the extended version as well as early access to my next pac!

Regardless, if you'd like a free mini-reading to clarify any part of this PAC, feel free to send me an ask with your initials and pile!

PILE 2 (Statue)

Current Energy:

Cards: King of Wands, The Star, The Tower rev, Queen of Wands

I see you showing up as being in a hopeful energy and that good fortune of some kind is coming your way. A good balance of masculine and feminine energy. There’s a sense of resisting something internally, however. A transition of some kind that you're wanting to make. It seems like it could be good for you and a lot of different areas in your life would improve, but what you know or are accustomed to might clash with what you want. However, you have what it takes to succeed. If you were drawn to pile 1, after reading this pile consider checking it out as well.

The cycle that needs to end:

Cards: Eight of Swords, The Devil, Ten of Swords, Knight of Swords

I feel like you’ve got a gloomy inner world. Very melancholy. You’re turning a blind eye to the things that are holding you back and draining your energy. It feels like you almost escape it but it gets you every time. You might not take the best care of yourself mentally or physically. With all the swords it could be a mental thing too and it’s important that you get (professional) help and take those steps (of taking better care of yourself). The cycle that needs to break is you getting stuck in this energy.

What keeps the cycle going:

Cards: Four of Swords, Eight of Cups rev, Ace of Wands rev, Ace of Cups

You don’t rest. You won’t walk away from the things draining your energy. You won’t open up your heart and you won’t do anything with your creative sparks... more or less.

It’s so important that you take a moment to take a good pause and regroup. You could find yourself turning to poor coping mechanisms and that's not good. You can't try to leave a bad situation either if you don’t know what made it bad. You also have to sometimes stick things out. If you tried breaking a habit and it didn't work, it doesn’t mean you’re doomed to always have that habit. That’s a bad way of looking at things, and while it’s understandable to feel that way, you still need to work on it. You’re allowed to connect with your emotions and create as well... There's a need to review your plans/goals as well. You can be successful, but may lack the resources to easily be so... that’s also understandable but you can still work with what you do have. You may also lack confidence in you abilities to achieve your goals. You can manifest so many things you want but you have to believe in yourself and open your emotions to be able to connect with the feeling of what you want. It’s easy to say I want XYZ, but if you don’t figure out what that’s going to feel like, then how will you know when you’ve got it? It’s easy to get caught up in material things but the last thing you want is to wake up one day to a life that looks exactly like you wanted it to, only to realize it doesn’t FEEL the way you wanted it to.

What will it take to break the cycle:

Cards: Judgement, The Hierophant, Knight of Wands, Page of Cups

It’s time for you to get it together. Get serious about moving on to the next phase. I feel like it’s all going to work out based on the cards but you really do have to stop holding yourself back. Find a support group. Consider finding creative/artistic ways to express yourself. Step into a leadership role because there’s a good chance you can lend the wisdom you’ve acquired to others… This could be through a social media platform, sharing your writing, attending a local community event, etc. Work on making sure how you’re living aligns with your beliefs and vice versa. Allow yourself to be vulnerable. Give yourself your all. I also feel like this is one of those situations where you have to remind yourself that sometimes motivation follows action.

Want to know what those steps might look like for you? Consider checking out my Patreon for the extended version as well as early access to my next PAC!

Regardless, if you'd like a free mini-reading to clarify any part of this PAC, feel free to send me an ask with your initials and pile!

PILE 3 (Broken TV)

Current energy:

Cards: Wheel of fortune, Queen of swords, Queen of pentacles, Two of wands

Your current energy is that you've shifted to a 'really good' energy or you're about to shift to a 'really good' energy. The Magician isn't here but that's kind of the energy I'm picking up on here too. Either being very faithful right now that everything is going to work out for you or that's the energy/mindset that you need to tap into. There are options available to you... You need a plan of some kind. You feel unable to move... unequipped even. Thinking about (or needing to) your long-term future. With the two queens, I think you're leaning into one of the two embodiments of the queen, maybe even both. You might have a hard time seeing yourself as either.

The cycle that needs to be broken:

Cards: The Hanged Man, The Tower, The World, Judgement

The other piles were definitely what I would consider a cycle on a loop that needed breaking but yours feels less like a cycle and more like you're just... stuck. You're ready to or have 'level/ed up', but it's as though you're stuck in limbo. This could be because you've gone through a 'tower moment' recently (say within the last year give or take) that's left you stuck in limbo. Or it could be a fear of having a 'tower moment' that is leaving stuck in limbo. Regardless this cycle is one of you needing to bring something to completion.

What keeps the cycle going:

Cards: Knight of Wands, The Emperor, The Sun, Eight of Pentacles, The Fool

You might be rather impatient. When you do things you may expect to see results immediately...that sense of 'oh, I did this tasks once, why don't I feel better 👀'. It could also be that you might not plan out your goals thoroughly or you may not be very clear on what it is that you want to do/achieve. I feel like since you don't take that moment to strategize and figure out what actually needs to be done, this cycle keeps going. You may just charge forth into whatever you think will bring you happiness. However, this means you can't put in the work required which can bring you back to a place of fear and doubt. This can create anxiety and likely catastrophizing which brings us back to that fear of a 'tower moment'. It could also simply be a case of being too laid back? On the flip side, while it's always good to have faith that things will work out, it's important to remember that a lot of times, you still have to play a role in that.

What will it take to break the cycle: Cards: The Star, Justice, Three of Pentacles, Knight of Cups

Have hope, yes. Dream and believe that good things are meant for you and those good things will find you. BUT, balance that with meaningful/conscious action. You must consider the long term. What is the end goal going to look/feel like? What is the journey of getting there going to take? Some of you already have the knowledge you need while others may still need to acquire it. Regardless, learning and implementation will help break the cycle. You have what it takes, but you have to stay the course. It's also important that you use action rather than simply ideas to motivate you. Fall in love with the act of doing.

I also feel like you should make a love list. I initially thought of that while going my first glance at the cards.

Also, do me a favour and take a nap, please! ✋

Want to know what those steps might look like for you? Consider checking out my Patreon for the extended version as well as early access to my next PAC!

Regardless, if you'd like a free mini-reading to clarify any part of this PAC, feel free to send me an ask with your initials and pile!

PILE 4 (Hammer)

Note: If you're someone who reads what cards were pulled, I mistyped the Seven suit for Current Energy and The Cycle so now that I'm editing, I realised I have no idea which suit the card belonged to hence the (?). Okay, that's all!

Current energy:

Cards: Seven of Swords(?), Queen of Pentacles, Three of Wands

It's time for you to broaden your horizons, however, you currently have to tread carefully. You could currently be job searching or looking for scholarships etc. There's a lot of opportunities available to you or becoming available to you. But you need to be diligent and read the fine print and get the details to make sure you won't be compromised in the process. It's important though that you be able to maintain a balance between your home/personal and academic/career life. You're in an energy of needing to remember to put yourself first.

The cycle that needs to be broken:

Cards: Two of Swords, The Emperor, Page of Swords, Seven of Wands (?)

The cycle that needs to break is one of constantly being at odds with everyone. I feel like you’re constantly bending over backwards or breaking your neck to try and appease others-- and no matter what you do, it’s not enough. I think this might potentially resonate more with those who are academics. When faced with a decision between what will benefit you vs what will benefit someone else, you have a tendency to either not make a decision of choose the option that will benefit someone else instead. This could be because you either live under someone with authority over you (like a caretaker or family) or you're in a position where you feel like you have to take care of others (siblings/family, partner).

I feel as though for some of you it could also be a romantic relationship? I'm not familiar with 'channeling' through music, but find myself doing it a lot lately. The song 'Lifetime' by Livingston just resonated with part of this pile for some reason. When asking if it’s a romantic situation, I got the cards: Eight of Pentacles, The Devil, and Justice rev. I’m also getting 'the right person, but wrong time'.

I think if it's someone with whom you share romantic feelings for, it's a situation where the relationship likely feels imbalanced and like hard work, but you don't feel like you can step away. If that resonated then that could be it. It could also be any unfair relationship dynamic.

What keeps the cycle going:

Cards: The Hanged Man, Ace of Wands, Death, The Moon, Eight of Swords

I think you’re in a cage of your own making, but not because you can’t see. You can see, but what you’re seeing isn’t clear. Because of this, you tend to end up pressing pause on moving forward. There's a lot of creative energy around you... for some, it's that it's a creative field waiting to accept you. However, you're too afraid to actually go for it and give it your all so I think you keep 'pulling the wool' over your own eyes. I think if there are people around you in opposition to you moving forward, you might see it as a convenient excuse to not move forward and transform into the next stage of your life. It's almost like the cycle doesn't need to be a cycle. You know when you're listening to a song and you keep restarting it 'cause you keep getting interrupted? And sometimes it's just you being extra because it wasn't even your favourite part you're just kind of nitpicking? Yeah, same vibe I'm getting here.

If the relationship resonates: I think you may need to let go of (or loosen your hold on) because they could be holding you back to the point they're dragging you down. Things are shifting for you, especially internally. You could be trying to hold it back though, but in doing so you could burn up and out. You’re seeing what really is and maybe you don’t want to. That’s the part that keeps this cycle going. I see images of a phoenix rising too.

What will it take to break the cycle:

Cards: Queen of Wands, The Chariot rev, Judgement, Three of Pentacles, The World, The Lovers

It’s time to use the things you’ve learned. Let go and let the cycle close. Trust that you’ll find love again or that you’ll find inner harmony. Trust that it will all work out in your favour. Take steps, even if it's baby steps to doing whatever it is you want to do. I feel like I said this already in a different pile, but even if you can't make a complete switch yet, start engaging in the things you want to do or eventually pivot too in small steps. You can always research or engage with it as a hobby for the time being. Also finding balance between who you are and how you show up to the world. Remember you have a lot to offer and it's going to do everyone a whole lot more good in the long run, the more authentically you can show up.

Want to know what those steps might look like for you? Consider checking out my Patreon for the extended version as well as early access to my next PAC!

Regardless, if you'd like a free mini-reading to clarify any part of this PAC, feel free to send me an ask with your initials and pile!

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pac reading #pick a picture #pick a pile reading #pac #cozycottagetarot #cozycottagetarot readings #free reading tarot #tarotblr #free tarot

[yarrystyleeza]

Happy birthday tomorrow Yuna! Hope you'll have an amazing day ❤️❤️

As for a request... When I saw you would write for Daryl, I knew I had to send you something. Season 1 and 2 Daryl lives rent free in my mind, so can I please request:

"when they tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear while you talk" and "brushing against each other, even if there is enough room"

Thank you in advance and again, Happy birthday 😁❤️🎉

Awww thank you my love, sorry for answering this late, hope you didn't mind it, it was stupid of me! 😅💖💖💖

I was stuck with the plot of the request for the last two months until last night, I literally wrote this in less than 10 hours lol 🤣🤣🤣 hope you enjoy it, though, and sorry for keeping you hanging! 💖💖💖 You're so welcome and thank you for dropping this request and for the birthday wishes! 🥰🥰🥰

Little Things (D.D)

Requested by @munsonownsmyass

Pairing and dynamic: Daryl Dixon x female! reader, idiots in love

Prompt: fluff, s1!s2!Daryl, tucking hair behind ear, brushing against each other even if there's enough room + petnames for the cherry on top!

Word count: 1.4k!

Writer's note: I loved writing this one so much! As you lily, season one and two Daryl is my favorite Daryl era (beside S8). Not 100% proofread but I hope you really enjoy it, have a great day! <3

"Hurt y'self, little thin'?" He teased, watching you lying on the forest bed after your foot faltered and slipped you into the bottom of the hill. Your brows knitted, you rolled your eyes, he chuckled at the face you made, "alright, I'm comin'."

He slides down, smoothly, and a little bit pompously—with a smirk on his face. You can't lie—he made you smile though you desperately wanted to punch him right in the face.

He offered his hand to you and you accepted his help. At first, he let you wrap your arm around his neck as he walked you towards the hill exit—but as it turns out, you sprained your ankle so bad it was impossible for you to take another step. He scooped you in his arms and carried you back to the quarry.

And that's how you met Daryl.

You can't admit he wasn't a pain in the ass most of the time—if not always, getting on your nerves and driving you up the wall, it was so constant you started thinking he was doing it on purpose.

It kinda was. Daryl had serious troubles with conveying his emotions, and that idiot had a sickening crush on you ever since he saw you at the camp with the girls. He wanted your attention and he only got it when he drove you mad, so he tooled it in his advantage.

You were his favorite. You're the only one he talks to—other than his brother, Merle—and you, too, are the only one who wants to talk to him.

You too had a crush on him. His silly fights and bickering became more amusing to you—sometimes you couldn't even contain the smile drawn across your face when he's mad about something so stupid and could be fixed in complete silence, and when you gave him your smug face—it always drove him insane. You learnt he's quick-tempered, but these ones were visibly made up just to get a chance to be with you.

Daryl reminded you of those little boys in the playground when they used to ruin the girls' sand castles or pull their braids and ribbons just to get their attention. Ever since you came up to this conclusion—life has never been easier!

But things changed a little bit after the attack on the quarry. Daryl turned from only being a hot-headed idiot to be completely protective of you, but that doesn't mean he stopped getting angry—God forbid he does! But he got more reasonable and collected—around you, at least.

As soon as you got to the CDC, he grew closer to you, more friendly, more worried, more caring. He barely slept the night you spent there, checking on you every thirty minutes to make sure you don't need anything—despite you being a wall apart. It was adorable, and it stirred something in you.

Same night at dinner, right before you went to bed, he sat beside you as you dined, he made sure your plate was full and that you'd eaten well because 'it's been a while since you got a decent meal', he says.

And in the middle of the chaos the following morning—he solely cared for you, and not a thing was going to stop him from smashing Dr. Jenner's head that morning if it wasn't for you calming him down.

The two of you escaped in his pickup truck. But despite the horror you had just fled, you couldn't stop stealing glances at each other, Daryl was focused on driving but you spotted him staring at you with soft eyes a couple of times. Both of you blushed, multiple times—vividly, but you couldn't stop. Something was so amusing and sweet about the way he was looking at you, and you were so tempting to him he could stop staring at you even if he wanted to.

Now, staying at Hershel's farmhouse, Daryl turned out to be that sweet lovey dovey guy who'd absolutely melt under your touch—in complete opposite to the face he's been showing to everyone.

As you went out to search for Sophia, Daryl offered to accompany you. He kept brushing arms with you, pumping into your side, and gently holding your biceps to guide you as you walked. He kept putting himself between you and any threat, not letting you shed a drop of sweat—you were almost a passenger princess, but on foot.

But it was very obvious the night he got shot—your heart dropped when it happened, and when you learned it was your Daryl and not some misinformation. You couldn't watch as they took the bullet out, you couldn't watch him screaming in agony—yet you heard him from behind the door. It tore your heart into pieces.

The night fell as you sat on the chair next to his bed, your head dripping every couple minutes as you drifted in and out of sleep. Your head was heavy as a rock sinking in the ocean—yet you kept fighting Mr. Sandman back, shaking your head and rubbing your eyes and patting your face.

"Go to bed, pet," he softly demanded, "ye're tired from sittin' here all day," he extended an arm, gently placing it on your thigh and squeezing it chastely, "ya need some rest."

You shook your head, "I'm fine, Daryl," you shrugged, "it's not like it's the first time I stay up late."

Both of you stay silent, staring at each other with soft eyes. "Climb up in 'ere," Daryl says, his voice was tinted with plead "at least you won't have to keep droppin' yer head like a sippy chicken."

"No, Daryl," you shook your head in utter refusal, desperately trying to show him how awake you are despite craving a warm bed, "you need your own space. What if I accidentally hit your wound--"

"Come on, pet, you know you won't..." he softly smiles, shaking his head. You sigh and climb into the bed with him and he shares his blanket with you. He turns to face you, the moonlight is perfectly casted upon your faces, his blue eyes sparkled and reflected you like a looking glass. He grazes your cheek, tucking your stray hair back behind your ear and his fingertips linger on the skin of your neck.

"Get some sleep, love," he caresses your hair, "I won't need nothin' when ye're right next to me."

You woke up tangled up in his chest, it was warm and peaceful. You never wanted to slip out of his arms—if it wasn't for Hershel coming over to check on him and the men accompanying him.

Daryl got better as the days gone by. You started to see him in the kitchen fetching some biscuits or chips, he'd pump into you on his way out, brushing arms with you and glancing at you with his blueies and a smile. And if he's in the right mood, he'd take you off guard and peck your cheek, and you'd turn red and try to bite your smile. He caught it had quite the right effect on you, and he's been doing it ever since.

"Let it down, pumpkin," Daryl flirts as he snatches the scrunchie out of your hand as you tried to tie your hair, "love it when it's coverin' yer pretty face, gives me a reason to keep tuckin' it back."

"But we're going on a mission," you protest, "it would be dangerous for both of us!"

Daryl takes a run around the golden field and you chase him—but he overpowers you and you stop running, panting and clutching your chest as he giggles. He mischievously walks back closer to you, so you try to take it back, but he's taller than you, stretching his hand up with your scrunchie and shaking it to tease you. "Ya ain't tiein' it today, darlin'."

"Give it back!" you giggle as you jump to reach for your scrunchie, but he keeps stretching his arm above his head.

"Ye look so cute like that, pumpkin," he pulls a smug face as you lean forward against him, your chests compacting and you're an inch away from kissing.

"You could've told me you wanted to kiss me," you tease, not minding that he lowered his hand back down. He tucks your stray bangs behind your ear, ending up doing what he wanted to do all along.

"But it's more fun to watch ya tiptoe and lean on to me like that," he rounds you with his big arms, pulling you deeper into his chest with a Bastard smirk on his face, "it makes you even prettier, pet. These little things you do."

Likes and reblogs are appreciated, thank you for coming to my birthday sleepover celebration! 💞💞💞

#yarrystyleeza #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl x you #daryl dixon imagine #norman reedus

[fortunekookie07]

Mc disappears on a mission/snowcrest (Days, weeks, author's choice) I want pain, anguish But a happy ending, with a reunion (the only requirement, life is sad enough 😭)

This is the prompt requested, and I got this idea.

Looking for my Heart

The mission seems simple enough, you thought as you read through the file that Jenna had sent. After you had gone to Snowcrest last year with Zayne and temporarily teamed up with the Deepspace Hunters stationed there she had decided to add more diversity to the training. This included rounds in Snowcrest.

This time it was your turn, you were excited to see Dr. Noah and Pie again. It had been almost six months since your last trip. Getting out of Linkon for the first time in awhile was just the refreshing change you wanted.

Zayne had agreed to take you to the train station so you could meet up with your temporary team, but for some reason he was late. This was highly unusual, Zayne was almost never late. He prided himself on his perfect manners.

You decide to take your luggage downstairs anyways. Surely Zayne was on the way or maybe even pulling up to the complex now. Upon seeing the quiet parking lot devoid of his car a pout forms on your lips. You grab your phone and scroll through the texts you'd exchanged and check to make sure you'd told him the correct time and date. There it was, Wednesday morning 9:30, along with his affirmation and yet no Zayne. You decide that this is not ok and immediately tap the phone icon to call him.

Straight to voice-mail, a frown furrows your eyebrows and your lips purse out in frustration. You call again, once more, twice more. You almost lose count at the number of straight to voice mail calls you send. So you type him a text in anger.

I know you don't want me to go to Snowcrest but this is my job after all. If you didn't want to take me you shouldn't have agreed in the first place. Trying to make me miss the train is really petty. You hit send without a second thought and immediately call for a taxi. Minutes later one is pulling into the parking lot and finally you are off.

After getting to the station and finally securing your tickets and luggage your phone rings. Zayne's name and picture flash across the screen. In anger you shut your phone off and stuff it deep into your bag.

You walk down a few cars before finding a seat. Across from you is a family. A little girl is giggling as her father is making funny faces and the mother is quietly laughing as well. A smile crosses your face and then unwanted thoughts pop into your head.

For a moment you see yourself and Zayne in that exact situation. Though he'd probably never actually admit it, Zayne would do anything you asked no matter how silly. To him you'd hung the moon and scattered the stars. A small smile came to your face and you violently shook your head back in forth, uncaring that your hair whipped your cheeks as you did so.

"No I'm angry, we're mad at Zayne. Be mad at Zayne"! You chant softly to yourself before slapping both cheeks. Having successfully for the moment chased away the daydream you sit back in your seat as the train begins to move and look out at the scenery flashing by. Slowly changing from city to mountains.

Two hours later the heaters in the cars came on as the temperature outside had dropped. It was snowing lightly according to the weather report. Your about to get your jacket on when an alert sound on your Hunter's Watch. You look down and see that a there is a Metaflux warning on the screen and the scanner is red.

Immediately your heart starts hammering in your chest as a cold sweat rolls down your back. This is exactly the readings you saw on your first day Hunting.

"Look out"! You scream just before everything goes white and you hear a high pitched screech and then nothing.

**********************************************************

She was standing off to the side holding Dr. Zayne's phone. Finally it was her turn to watch for important calls or messages and inform him of them. Finally she would be able to get closer to him. Oh how she had dreamed of this day! Luck was finally dealing her the winning hand.

At least that was the cloud nine Mia was currently occupying until the phone actually started soflt vibrating. A quick glance at the screen sent her stomach straight to the pits of ultimate fury. How did this stupid girl have Zayne's number? She was always around him. It made her blood absolutely boil staring down at her stupid smiling face and name on the screen. "Humph"! She scoffed sending the call straight to voicemail. Oh how it delighted her to reject that snake's call.

Well that was until the phone started vibrating again almost immediately. She's calling again?!?! Mia thought wanting to throw the device into and inferno.

I've been in his department for two years and she already has his number?? How dare she deceive my Zayne! She sent the call to voice-mail again. This went on several more times and she was almost giddy at having rejected the call five times. A wide smile made its way onto her face as a text message popped in then. Zayne would never allow anyone to talk to him like that. She was riding this wave for the next hour before finally the surgery was done.

Mia quickly deleted the records of the call and then looked up as Dr. Zayne set down his instruments and gave his final orders. He was handing the last of the surgery duties over to his team. They quickly got to work stitching the patient back up. Dr. Zayne walked over to her and her heart skipped a beat as she watched another nurse help remove his scrubs and gear before finally standing in front of her.

He looks so tired, she thought silently handing over his phone. He accepted it and a deep frown immediately hung over his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Damn, I'm late". He said quietly.

"Is something wrong Dr. Zayne". Mia asked gazing at his face. Mock concern on it. Zayne only looked at her before leaving the room. Mia was confused, while it was true they didn't have much contact, he'd never outright ignored her before. She shrugged it off as tiredness. It had been a six hour surgery after all.

Mia left the surgical wing and went back to the nurses station to write down the report she knew would be expected by the end of the day. However forty-five minutes later she was being summoned to Zayne's office. He had directly written an email and sent it to her. This had never happened before. Mia had attended dozens of surgeries with Zayne before, but never had an email come to her straight from him.

She was so elated that she didn't even notice the looks she was getting as she practically skipped to his office. Word of her misdeeds had traveled around the entire cardiac ward and then some, but Mia hadn't noticed. Too busy floating in the clouds to see the disapproving stares and mock sympathy she was getting.

She stopped only once at the last bathroom before turning to his office to check her hair and makeup. She quickly undid the ponytail her hair had been thrown in before and finger combed the strands before relying it neatly. Adjusting her bangs to fall just right across her forehead and removing all traces of smudged eyeliner. Perfect! She thought glancing once more before leaving.

Standing in front of his office door she cleared her throat and raised her hand to knock, but another hand beat her to it. She turned a withering look on her face but nearly recoiled in shock. Standing to her right was the president of the hospital along with his secretary and another Doctor she couldn't remember the name of.

"Come in". Zayne's deep voice sounded from the other side. The president quickly pushed the door open and strode inside. His secretary looked at her. A woman in her mid thirties with square framed glasses a high ponytail with side swept bangs and piercing golden eyes. She looked like an eagle that had just found her next pray. Mia suddenly felt small, all her early excitement and high dwindling rapidly to nothing.

She walked into the room like a timid mouse searching for the cat she just knew was watching her. "Y-you wanted to see me Dr. Zayne"? His green and gold eyes looked at her. Expression flat, devoid of all emotion and even life. Her body started to trembled as she played with the hem of her uniform shirt.

"Did I receive any calls earlier this morning"? He asked her out right not beating around the bush. "N-no sir, your phone did not ring". She was sweating nervously. Why was she being asked this in front of the president. She wanted the floor to swallow her.

"Is that so". He said and the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees with that single sentance. He wordlessly turned his computer monitor around to show what he was looking at and Mia felt her stomach sink to the floor as she stared at a frozen image of herself holding Zayne's phone. It was clear as day.

"Are you unaware that in addition to their being an observation deck above my operating room there are also cameras all over the place? Are you sure this is the route you wish to take"? He asked as her pressed play on the video. You could clearly see her holding the phone and looking down at the screen when the device lit up. The name couldn't be read from the distance but the picture of you was unmistakable.

Mia lost all composure as she ditched her cover. "Why does she get to have your number and hang around you all the time like some cheap skank? It makes me sick the way she's always coming to the hospital like she owns the place. She doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air as you. She doesn't deserve to breathe at all"! Mia shouted chest heaving from her words and anger. "Who does she even think she is? She's isn't good enough for you"! She went on. There was no coming back from this, Mia had tossed all caution to the wind and she was going down with her sinking ship.

"Are you so self absorbed that you don't even know who my patients are"? Zayne asked, his voice was cold enough to give Mia frostbite as she practically froze. Horror dawning on her as realization started to sink in. "Not that it is any of your business in the first place. She has an extremely rare heart condition and requires weekly checkups to make sure no changes occur. She has my number because I gave it to her....".

Just then the door burst open and several people came in panicked. "Dr. Zayne you need to see this now"! The male shouted grabbing the remote and turning the TV on to the news in a flurry.

"..Minutes ago on the mountain there was an explosion believed to have been cause by metaflux, at the time the train bound for Snowcrest was at the heart of it. As of yet we are unable to get reports of the accident. As you can see drones are trying to get closer bit having no visual luck. The smoke has completely enveloped the accident. We are able to confirm that the train was blasted off the tracks as you can see here". The reported said as a still image filled the screen.

You could clearly see where the tracks ended brokenly and the huge gouge that had been taken as well as the black smoke. All eyes in the room turned to Zayne who had stood abruptly from his chair with such force that it had been knocked over. He scrambled for his phone furiously before tapping and immediately calling someone. The phone went straight to voicemail. Over and over again to no avail, finally he dropped the phone and hung his head brokenly.

He looked up sharply and sent her a withering glare, "The president will deal with you. I need to go". He said directing the last part to the president.

No one said a word as Dr. Zayne left the hospital and drove straight to the train station. He tried calling Dr. Noah, but to no avail. Emergency lines overruled all other communication.

Zayne felt like all his sanity was about to slip away, you were missing and you took his heart with you when you vanished.

*******************************************************

That had been eight days ago, every news outlet was following the story as the very world held its breath. Four rescue attempts had been made with no results. The explosion had stired up all the Wanderers and the area was thick with danger. Rescue workers couldn't fend off the Wanderers and there just weren't enough Deepspace Hunters that could destroy them, protect the rescuers, and look for survivors. All hope seemed to be lost.

As morning dawned on the ninth day something changed, the areas that had previously been inaccessible were suddenly clear. The Wanderer sightings in the first zones had dropped to zero. Even the metaflux readings were bottoming out. Like the forests surrounding the area was reclaiming itself.

Zayne finally ditched the watch the Association had put on him and headed into the wilderness. You the only thing on his mind. He was coming for you no matter what.

*******************************************************

Pain, that was the most prominent feeling you had first as you tried to open your eyes and move. They didn't want to cooperate. Something shuffled near you and then you realized something was holding your hand. At first you were afraid, unable to open your eyes and unable to move. Panic started to set in and with it dizziness. Even though you were already lying down the ground beneath you was spinning. Like a merry-go-round turned on to fast.

Then there was a quiet shushing. "It's alright, please calm down. Your injuries are serious and we have no way to treat them. We barely managed to stop the bleeding. Your eyes have been covered because there were deep cuts on your forehead. In addition your right leg and arm are badly broken. I don't know the extent of all your injuries so please don't move. If it hadn't been for your warning no one but you would have survived. My wife and daughter are alive thanks to you. Please let us help you". A male voice said softly near your ear. A hand brushed your hair back and then there was gentle pressure on your left hand.

A smaller hand had gripped it holding softly. "We managed to put up some shelter, it's been snowing non stop since the accident and the area is not safe. Your watch alerts us to dangers so we're staying hidden. You're a Hunter aren't you"? Those time a female voice was speaking softly. Memories slowly came back, you remembered the family you saw on the train and tears came to your eyes. That family had survived and not only that, protected you at your most vulnerable moments.

With all the strength you had left to muster you squeezed the small hand still holding yours before passing out again. Thankfully in unconsciousness there was no pain and there was also Zayne.

How you missed his cool demeanor and often icy personality. You missed staring into his deep hazel eyes and getting lost in them. You missed him holding you and waking up to him. In your dreams Zayne had already found you and was gently tending all your injuries while hiding how much it pained him to see you in this state.

The next time you woke up all was quiet around you. Carefully you pulled the layers of cloth off your eyes and peered into the dim light. It stung a bit after so much darkness. Huddled around you was a man, woman, and small child. They looked worse for the wear and tou noted cuts, burns, scrapes, and the like on them. Seems they had been extraordinarily lucky to escape with such minor injuries. You took note of the extent of your own injuries for the first time. Breathing hurt if you sucked in air too deeply, seems you can add ribs to the list of broken. Not to mention the burning paid in your side. That was heavily bound with cloth. That must be the bleeding that was hard to stop.

You tried to lift your head but that just sent oy straight back to the world of dreams. All your energy spent on just moving cloth from your eyes and feeling out wounds.

*******************************************************

Zayne was still unsure of the man walking beside him. He sort of knew about your upstairs neighbor and frequent Hunting partner but had never actually met Xavier before. He was quiet hardly speaking and seemed to be emotionless. Taking down every Wanderer that approached.

He hardly even needed Zayne's help, in fact he was pretty sure the man required zero help at all. It was quite a surprise when Xavier had agreed to Zayne's coming along in the first place. He knew there was more that Xavier knew than he would ever let slip. This guy held more secrets than a diary.

When Zayne had told him he was going to find you with ir without his help Xavier relented and off you were. Easily slipping past barriers and blockads headed for the accident zone.

Suddenly Xavier stopped his sled dogs and walked through the trees. In front the train tracks appeared and so did the spot where a huge hole was. Spanning at least thirty feet wide and probably ten feet deep at its center, it was no surprise the train had been blasted off the tracks. One of the cars lay on its top. Windows busted and scorch marks all over the metal. The fire on this one had burned a long time. The smell of burnt wooden, metal, and coal still lingered in the air. The bursting of snow looked odd on the scene. Any tracks that may have been on the snow were long since gone. Dusted over with more snow.

"Not here". Xavier said quietly leading away from the car and walking further away from the train into the woods. The air was dead silent, no animals had been seen in days. Having run away, or too terrified to come out of hiding.

Zayne felt his heart freezing over with the bitter cold. He would not admit the chances of your survival of the explosion until the evidence was thrust right before his eyes.

The hospital had forced him into a personal leave two days after the explosion. He was walking around in a daze, because quite literally his heart was missing. He got angry everytime he thought about what one of the nurses had done. Rejecting your calls like that several times. Her job was terminated that day. The president would not have such a malicious person on staff at Akso hospital. If word got out that patients were treated like that because a nurse thought she was entitled to whatever she wanted their stellar reputation would plummet.

A crunching noise started coming from a few feet in front of them. Xavier dashed forward towards thr sound.

In a makeshift clearing a man was walking their way. He looked beat up and tired as he froze at the sight of them before smiling in joy. It looked like he had been crying.

"Oh thank god"! He cried coming to them in relief. "We need help, the young woman that is with us is hurt real bad. I don't know if she's going to make it. I can't treat her injuries. Zayne felt his blood freeze as a sickening feeling came over him. "Show us". He said and the man immediately turned are hurried back the way he'd come. For the first time Zayne realized there was a tent strung from blankets and branches.

The man pushed the heavy blanket aside and went in. Zayne paused for a moment before he and Xavier followed. As soon as Zayne got a look at who was lying on the ground it felt like his soul left him.

There you were, his heart so battered and hurt he could barely breathe. For the first time Zayne wished he didn't have any medical training ir knowledge. He could easily see every injury and the signs of the ones the untrained eye could not.

A fever had set in and you were shivering despite the blankets on you and the two people huddled near you trying to keep you warm.

"Move aside", Zayne said with a calm he didn't feel. He took his backpack off and immediately searched for the pain medication and bandages. He gave you a shot to dull the pain your broken bones would definitely be giving you. He removed the cloth wrapped around your stomach and examined the injury. He could tell they had tried their best to care for you but lacking any supplies at all it had been a struggle. Signs of infection were already setting in. The jagged cut to your side was deep and would require antibiotics and stitching. Neither of which he had now. He just tried his best to clean the wounds with the basic supplies he had and moves on.

At some point during his treatment, you woke up. Eyes hazy and unfocused. "Zayne can't you find me already"? The fever had made you delirious. "Hurry and come find me Zayne. I can't hold out much longer". He stoked your head and mumbled. I'm looking for you, I'll find you soon. "M'kay". You say before slipping back into a feverish sleep. "We need to get her out of here now". Zayne says to Xavier carefully turning you onto your back and the carefully picking you up.

Your face scrunches in pain and whimpers escape your lips but you do not wake. The pain meds are doing their job, for the most part.

*******************************************************

After what seems like a year later you're waking up. You tense as you realize that you no longer have anyone around you. The little girl is gone and so are the mom and dad.

It takes you almost three minutes to notice that you are lying in a bed now and not on a covered ground with several blankets. Only when you realize that do you also hear the sounds of machines. You blearily open your eyes and see the white walls and the large curtained window on your left.

Zayne is also there, asleep in a chair that just screams uncomfortable. There is a chart in his lap and you realize it's yours. You are glad that you can't read what is written from your angle. You try to turn onto your side and one of the machines starts beeping angrily at you.

Zayne snaps awake instantly and reaches over to press a button. He removes his glasses and rubs his eyes. He must be exhausted. You open your mouth to speak but all that comes out is a whisper. Your mouth is so dry.

Your voice is only a whisper. Instead you try to move your hand. This manages to catch his attention. He is immediately checking you over. Doctor mode has been activated.

"Are you in pain? How is your head"? He fires off questions rapidly. Unable to answer them you point to the water on the table. His gaze follows your finger and he grabs the glass holding the straw for you to sip. "Slowly, not too fast". He gently chides.

"Zayne, you found me". You say not answering any of the questions. "Of course I did". He says matter of factly sitting down and staring at you again. "I know you are too resilient to go down without a fight. You're tougher than that".

You smile softly gazing at him. "I need my heart". He gently takes your hand staring at the ring on your finger. He won't say it but you have certainly put his heart through a beating.

"When can I leave the hospital". You ask and he just sighs. "You're just going to have to stay put for awhile. You're in for a long recovery. The extent of your injuries were no small matter.

"Dr. Zayne I'd like you to return my finacee to me now". You say in a joking manner squeezing his hand.

A long sigh is drawn out from him before he says "just what am I going to do with you"? He leans over and kisses your forehead, both eyelids and then finally your lips.

"I hope you know a person can't live without their heart. Don't make mine disappear again. " You smile, feeling warm with his words.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace zayne x reader #halseyhatter #fic prompt #love and deepspace