#could I spend four more months making this better? Absolutely

[theladysherlock]

"Welcome to Lockwood & Co."

ID Under the Cut!

ID: A picture of Lucy Carlyle and Anthony Lockwood shaking hands in the living room of 35 Portland Row. Lucy has shoulder-length light brown hair and is wearing a black and blue bomber jacket, dark denim jeans, and black sneakers. Lockwood has short, dark brown hair and is wearing a black suit, a white button-up shirt, black dress shoes, and a black tie.

To the left of the two of them is a cluttered bookshelf filled with books of varying colors and sizes, some are lined up neatly and some are stacked up on top of each other. To the right of the bookshelf is a wooden mantle over an empty fireplace, with a large mirror above it. On either side of the mirror are two small sconces. To the right of the fireplace is a hutch, with tall upper cabinets and a small desk portion. The wallpaper is a decorative circular pattern with a beige and gold color palette.

End ID

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #my art #look. okay. I started this piece in February. #I have been working. on this stupid goddamn drawing. for four months. #we have reached the ''ehhh fuck it. good enough.'' stage #could I spend four more months making this better? Absolutely #I could make the colors better for sure #but I'm tired of looking at it! I'm tired of it being in my files so out it goes into the wilds of the internet #I'm not UNHAPPY with it #I did a lot of background stuff for the first time and that was really nice to have so much fun with a proper background for once #but. goddamn. i'm tired of working on it. so it's good enough.

[thisaccountisagainstmywill]

BG3 Characters Safest Driver Headcanons

I've been thinking about that poll from months ago way too much, so I've pulled this from my drafts. In this essay, I will explain why Boo is the best driver. Astarion: Terrible. Absolutely terrible driver. He is doing his makeup with the visor down, looking at the mirror more than the road. Suspend your disbelief, he's driving in this universe. He can use mirrors. ♥ You have to grab the steering wheel, regularly. Without warning, the man twists around to find his purse in the back seat because he wants a different eyeliner than what he grabbed. You are on aux duty. He hates everything you've picked. 2/10, he lawyered his way into that license Gale: You would think he would be safe, but then you remember that Gale didn't pay attention in boring classes. And how hard could driving really be?? The man knows how to drive perfectly textbook. He also thinks he knows how to do it better than everyone else. He does not adapt well to poor drivers. The roads are full of poor drivers. He is yeling "Zipper!" at the merging traffic. You spend five minutes in the parking lot so he can find just the right song for the trip.

6/10, you will probably not die Halsin: The man drives slow, I'm sorry. He's fuel efficient as you can get with the windows down. He pulls over and stops traffic for ducks crossing the road, no matter what the current road conditions are. He stops to show you the new tree the neighbor got. He is a Yellowstone Park tourist. He wants to show you the world, one traffic-stopping mid-road parking job at a time. There is no music, we are listening to nature today. 4/10, you will be rear-ended with him and not the way most people want Jaheira: I stand by what I said last time: Jaheira reminds me of so many older women I know. She drives like she wants someone to start shit with her. She's so conditioned by having 5 kids fighting in the backseat at all times that every time she's behind the wheel she's having Vietnam-level flashbacks. Her blood is pumping in her ears. There is no road, there is only the red of her vision. She won't start the road rage incident directly, but by god, she will end it. (You tried to ask about music, but the look she gave you when asked killed the question.) 5/10, you make it to your destination intact. But at what cost? Your pants are a different color at the end of the trip than they were at the beginning. Karlach: Karlach is talking with her hands while she drives. She's fiddling with the radio constantly. You've blown four red lights. Three of them were the same red light because she took a wrong turn. She will not use GPS, she's got the vibe of where she's going. She was trying to show you something on her phone at the same time. It cannot wait. It was so good you have to see it right now. The tunes are so loud she hasn't heard the sirens behind her. 4/10, the tunes almost make up for it Lae'zel: You are helping her check her mirror distance before you get in the car. You are buckled in before the car even starts. You are not allowed to touch the light in the car if it is dark out. She was taught that it's illegal to have on at night and she takes that shit seriously. You are on blindspot-watching duty at all times. You're not allowed to have music on the in car, it is a distraction. 7/10, we are efficient, but we are miserable Minsc: Minsc cannot drive. Minsc was meant to drive today, but Minsc got into the wrong seat. We are all relieved. Jaheira trained him wrong on purpose and will kill you if you correct him. 0/10, don't even try. He will survive the accident, you will not. Minthara: Minthara, light of my life. She is gremlin cackling and riding bumpers the whole time. People are pulling off constantly to get away from her. You are white-knuckling in the passenger seat and are too afraid to let go of the bitch-bar. You pray her airbags are up to date because your life has not stopped flashing before your eyes since you got onto the road. We are exclusively listening to The Flight of the Valkyries. 7/10, it is shockingly efficient when no one else is on the road anymore

Shadowheart: I have been in many a 'Shadowhearts' car. The car is more of a problem than she is. She drives the type of car that makes people go, "You live like this?" She drives a manual. She was not trained to drive a manual. Almost every single dash light is on, the ones that aren't had their bulbs die out years ago. We don't know how old that trash is, but it lives here now. She has one of those cassette players that has to hook into your phone to come out the speakers. Good luck finding the right adaptor in the mess. 4/10, girl get your shit together Wyll: Wyll is the best driver, hands down...when he is alone. Like all things in his life, his greatest flaw is being too polite. He turns his whole fucking head to look at you when you talk because that is the polite thing to do. The road is secondary to how important your conversation and companionship are to him. And you can't not talk him! He's asking you genuine questions about your day because he's interested. You get to listen to whatever you want and he's totally down for it even if it's not normally his thing. He'll find something he likes about it. Alone: 100/10, he somehow makes everyone better drivers by just being on the road With you: 5/10, Wyll, please, look at the road. ;_;

Boo: My eyes are closed. It's better this way. We made it there in record time. I don't know how it happened. I don't need to know how it happened. ?/10, it's best if you don't think about it

#bg3 #bg3 shitpost #shitpost headcanons #astarion #gale #bg3 gale #karlach #lae'zel #shadowheart #bg3 shadowheart #wyll #bg3 wyll #halsin #minthara #minsc #minsc and boo #boo #bg3 boo #jaheira

[ghost-proofbaby]

when you know, you know. (e.m.)

summary: air hockey has never been so romantic.

warnings: it's alluded to that reader is wearing red lipstick. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

wc: 1.8k+

a/n: a very late valentine's day gift for you all (and eddie). also, the fact i've never written proper mechanic eddie... what a shame.

“Yes!” 

If any of the nearby children flinched, you didn’t notice. You were too wrapped up in your victory, going as far as to partake in a terribly embarrassing dance on your end of the air hockey table as Eddie shakes his head slowly. 

“You definitely cheated,” he deadpans, a twitch of a smile nearly giving him away as he leans down to pick the puck out of the slot below on his end, “There’s no way you’re about to beat me in under five minutes, again.” 

You smile, lips painted red under the lowlights of the arcade as you lean over the table and taunt him, “Or maybe it’s just a skill issue. I wouldn’t keep beating you if you were actually a professional in air hockey like you’d claimed, Munson.” 

Three dates – tonight makes four – and you still hadn’t quite worked out how you’d managed to capture the attention of the boy before you. When he’d originally asked you out to coffee, you’d swallowed down all your excessive excitement just to answer him. The local mechanic that you’d been making heart eyes at every few months when you’d go in for an oil check, the one who hadn’t allowed the others at the shop to oversell you on a damn thing when you’d get your tires rotated. Who always smiled shyly as he’d bring you back your keys.

You’d figured the coffee date would last an hour if you were lucky. The two of you would spend more than five minutes in the same room together, he’d realize how overbearing you were, and that would be the end of it. Ridiculous crush effectively squashed. 

But it hadn’t. 

It had lasted hours, plural. Coffees finished and second lattes nursed until they’d gone cold, the outcome had been the exact opposite of your expectations. Your conversation had flowed effortlessly, common ground and common interests found with ease, and suddenly, Eddie was more than just some cute mechanic for your friends to tease you over. 

The first date had only ended due to his shift at the shop that afternoon. 

The subsequent sushi dinner date, and then the movie night the next week, had also lasted hours. 

“For someone who works on cars, you should be a lot better with your hands,” you poke gentle fun at him as he makes the first hit against the puck this time, far more careful than you had been when serving. 

“Or maybe I’m just determined to keep letting my pretty date win.” 

“And why would you ever do that?” 

Another hit from your mallet, the sharp tapping of your aggressive push ringing out over the sound of nearby machines. You don’t dare to glance in the direction of the ruckus, but you’re pretty sure someone has just won an exciting amount of tickets based on the squeals of glee. 

“I dunno,” Eddie pauses to shrug after he hits the puck once more, his guard dropping. You’re ruthless as you take the opportunity to shoot the puck straight into ‘goal’ on his side of the table. A straight shot, far too easy for your liking, but you still celebrate the victory with another embarrassing dance, “Maybe it’s because I’m into that ridiculous dance they keep doing whenever they score.” 

You immediately stop your little jumps, eyes widening, a rush of embarrassment heating you up from the inside out as Eddie’s eyes stay glued on you. The table powers down as he makes his way around it, feet bringing him right to you. 

You’d always thought Eddie would find you weird, or odd, or unappealing after that coffee date, but the outcome had been better than you could have possibly conceived.

He was an absolute weirdo as well. 

Fondness overtakes his features just like it had on that coffee date when you’d accidentally snorted at one of his jokes, and your heart flutters eagerly. You can’t believe there had been a time you’d only watch him from behind glass, trying to not get caught as you would blatantly stare at him as he’d work on your car. A time when you’d only see his curls up in loose buns rather than framing his face as they were now, a time when you couldn’t even shake his hand due to it being covered in oil. 

That had all only been a month ago, but you already couldn’t imagine your life without Eddie Munson in it. 

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he chuckles as he stops in front of you, smirk deepening the dimples you’d only noticed on your second date with him. He’d been too bashful the first date, ducking whenever his grin would grow too wide on you, biting his tongue on half the flirtatious remarks you wished he would have said. “You won, fair and square, so what’s your prize gonna be, valentine?” 

He also waited until the second date to kiss you. That had nearly killed you. 

“It’s not very fair if you let me win,” you whisper, unable to look away from his eyes. They’re a soft brown, a smooth honey, a nice sight for sore eyes. You kind of like the crinkles beside them, too. Kind of wonder what it would be like to wake up beside him, roll over, and kiss them – all before the sun ever rose. 

He reaches out and gingerly grabs your hand, calloused fingertips brushing your knuckles before he entangles your fingers with his. “Psh, who said I let you win? Maybe I just really suck at air hockey.”

“You just-”

You never get to finish your argument. He’s quick to swoop down, capturing your lips in his. The rudest of interruptions, and it still manages to weaken your knees. 

Each kiss only grows sweeter. And more confident, more sure. The first one had been timid, exchanged on your doorstep with boyish hesitation and meek desperation. But now, several kisses experienced since that night, all apprehension has melted. He lets his lips meld to yours, captures your bottom lip just tightly enough to give it a brief tug when he pulls away. Still soft, ever so sweet, and leaving you wanting for more. 

Four dates. All it took was four dates for him to make you a goner. 

“Now, that wasn’t fair,” you breathe out, betrayed by the smile that you wear. Your chest feels shaken up, impending explosion of mushiness and flowers and hearts and every single cliche the love songs on the radio could squeeze out.

“It was your prize.”

“I never said I wanted a kiss for my prize.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he puts a dramatic hand up to his chest, leaning back so dramatically that your hand instinctively reaches out to loop a finger in his jean pocket to keep him upright, “Would you like me to take it back, my fair maiden?” 

Four dates, and he makes it impossible to not imagine a future of this. Of silly banter, of gentle mornings spent kissing away crows feet, of cutting one another off with the most infuriating of methods. You’re starting to believe you’re just a hopeless romantic, and he’d spotted that from a mile away – he knew every single button to press to have you putty in his hands, and he was taking full advantage of it. 

You giggle, an honest to God giggle, as you say, “Hm, I’m not sure. I heard the return policies on those are a bit wonky.” 

If your friends thought you were insufferable when he was some stranger you just had a crush on, they would be vomiting at the sight of this. 

He leans into your space, close enough to smell his faint cologne and mint on his breath, “Are they? Well, lucky for you, I’m friends with the shop owner. Can definitely accept the return without a receipt. It won’t be a problem, ma’am. I swear it.”

He’s weird. He’s goofier than you could have imagined, snarkier than you could have dreamed, and more romantic than you had yet to uncover. He’s kind of perfect, but you wouldn’t dare say that to his face. Not yet, at least. 

You’re glad you had said yes when he’d asked days prior for you to be his Valentine. And you’re glad he hadn’t gone the boring route, showing up with just chocolates and flowers and calling it a day, but had instead dragged you out to this arcade for a night of adventures as he claimed. 

“And how would one go about returning a kiss, kind sir?” 

He answers wordlessly, bringing up a finger to tap on his lips. He goes as far as pouting them dramatically. 

He wants you to kiss him. 

Lucky for him, you want to kiss him, too. 

Your kiss is more chaste. Teasing as you lift up onto your tippy toes and only press your lips to his for a brief second before falling back. You leave him wanting more – it’s written all over his face, along with a blush that races right over the bridge of his nose. 

He’s cute. He’s cute, and he’s weird, and you really fucking like him. 

“Now that that’s over with,” you have to change the topic, move right along before your heart truly bursts from your chest, “I know what I want my prize to be.” 

He takes a moment to recover, pupils almost resembling hearts as he stares down at you. Eventually he pulls himself from your trance, shaking his head as he asks, “And what would that be?”

You’re the one taking his hand this time. If he gave you the time, you’d like to learn each callous and scar by heart. Trace over them in the middle of night, when it’s just you and him in the darkness beneath your sheets. Memorize the way they feel as he explores every curvature of your body and figure out which of the roughest patches would brush against your most sensitive bits in a way that would make you arch your back right into him. 

The two of you haven’t even discussed if that’s where the night might lead, but you’re sort of hoping the luck in the air doesn’t run out. 

“There’s an awfully pretty ring in the case up at the ticket counter,” you muse, knowing damn well the ring was the ugliest thing either of you had ever seen in your lives, “Think you’ve got the tickets to spare?” 

His hand gives you a squeeze. Something not too tight, something perfectly comfortable. It’s only the fourth date, it’s only the first month – it’s only the beginning. 

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, more earnestly than you’d expected, as he steals another kiss. 

You let him. You have this aching feeling in your chest that you’ll probably let him steal an endless amount from you for the rest of your life. 

When you know, you know. Or whatever the poets say.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

#my writing #ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #i want eddie to win me an ugly arcade ring thanks #also reader falling in love within a month of properly knowing eddie is so real #me too baby me fuckin too #on one tonight idk #let's gooo <3

[cuntycheol]

To You (C.SC)

Summary: Silence has always been a long-term paying guest between you and your husband. It took a cohabitation and more, to turn things around for Seungcheol and you, to figure out your true feelings.

Themes: romance, fluff, smutty, old money Seungcheol cuz he's your rich, cold but tender husband and you're his smart wifey, scenes of a firebreakout(please skip if you're triggered), some nice scenes of Singapore, and the first smut happens already (virgin!couple, slight inexperiences, orals, vanilla!) Cheol's very warm please I love him so much we'll save the real Cheol monstercock for the future ;3

WC: 7.7K (sowwy)

Playlist: Seventeen's (To You, All My Love, Falling for You SDSMSN, Darling), By My Side by Junny, Better Siopaolo , Alina Baraz (Floating, Alone with you, if you let me) I.M Flower-ed, Bibi Step

feel free to arrange them sowwy they're a lil mis arranged

A/N: helloo carats!! Had to make my first post about my man Cheol(thank u to my man) with the good ol' husband!au. It's evident im in my "oh husband cheol feelings" where we loving him real good! I've been impatient so I posted it a bit earlier than expected :D my comfort loving carats, this is based off All My Love and To You lyrics <3 I hope you enjoy this piece of writing as much as I enjoyed writing this! Happy Cheol Day you living legend coupranghae btches :")

Updated: mini sequel here <3

Life was divided into four distinct categories, after one whole month of your brand new status as Mrs. Choi, or Mr. Choi Seungcheol's wife:

Breakfasts with and for Seungcheol because he confessed he anticipates what you offer in the am

Touring the exquisite royalty of the mansion built by his great grandparents(specially the crimson paints)

Spending time with Seungcheol's Mom since she adores you more than her son!

Dinner n Slumber, where you sleep with a wall that separates you from your husband.

You don't exactly think it'd change; however you do expect it to. Everyday, you wake up in your own room, without the warmth of your husband because neither of you are exactly ready to sleep on the same bed together, and neither of you can sacrifice your comfort on the couch. Therefore a shared decision convinces your elders to grant your marriage the gift of time, a chance to understand one another before embracing a shared room and shared life. All credit to Seungcheol's mom, who chose you to be her son's perfect match, a decade ago. She envisioned you as the one to be her son's beacon of illumination in his life, and the way your personality coincides with his. Who knew you'd be repaid for your kindness of tagging along with your grandfather to meet his ailing friend, (Seungcheol's grandfather) with a coerced, arranged marriage to their youngest grandson. It was on you to navigate this relationship towards love and the more easier it sounds, the harder it gets.

Your husband's honesty shines through, expressing that his family holds the utmost importance in his heart, and he could never deny his mother's wishes. Although he initially declined the marriage proposal, the elders' persuasion led him to reluctantly agree. Absolute zero differences in both of your situations. Despite the arranged marriage, he promises to ensure your comfort and well-being. Polite knocks on your door in the morning signify his presence, seeking breakfast if you're up for the task, and he would either leave a note saying "ThankYou" or he would leave a fresh flower on the dining table as a small gesture of appreciation for your efforts in preparing breakfast, letting your pride swell with all this generosity, although you'd wish he says it with his own mouth, overcoming those barriers. Considerate compliments follow whether you're dressed in your best, try some new hairstyles, or ofcourse, after enjoying your delightful meals, was one thing that made you hopeful about this relationship.

It's evident he lacks communication, since he only speaks to you at mornings and occasionally on texts, whenever he's late. He possesses no punctuality but you're quick to realize he has a pattern in timings of when he wakes up, when he returns, when he sleeps. Throughout the day, you don't exactly see him. At nights you barely sit with him. He's either in his room or on his laptop. Nothing, among you two, seems like you're in a bond with the youngest heir of this luxurious business.

"Don't forget, the dinner's scheduled tonight" you chime, while he was leaving. He nods and drives his way out for another busy day.

Marrying a business tycoon of "old money" and serving him great breakfasts, were the last thing you expected  in your simple life, where you were focused on academic and personal glowups, and rarely had any serious past relationships, or have slept with anyone.

You just believed better things await for you, and if those better things were in the shape of a young handsome husband, who were you to complain.

✿══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿

"So! Have you decided a honeymoon destination?" Seungcheol's sister-in-law questions, at a calm family dinner. Seungcheol takes a sip from the drink, "I'm positively considering Greece or Bali, or maybe Fiji.  We haven't played rock papers scissors yet to choose one destination" earning a small chuckle from everyone, Seungcheol continues to feast on the delicious dinner you had prepared. A variety of topics continue to be discussed and that was the only response Seungcheol ever said throughout dinner.

While the family members took their departure, after another hour of dessert sessions, you thought about his remark, if there's any depth to it. The honeymoon idea and what he has said so far, made you a bit ecstatic.

Seungcheol's seated on the couch, of the lounge upstairs, sipping his usual coffee. you lean towards the railings of the top floor, where yours and Seungcheol's bedrooms neighbored. He looks at you, with tender eyes, yet a cold expression. "So, about the whole honeymoon thing, are you-"

"Oh "don't worry about it," Seungcheol's dismissively remarks, taking another sip of his coffee. "Family dinners are meant for prying into things we wouldn't discuss on a typical morning," he explains. "And Honestly, I don't see the need for a honeymoon." Your heart sinks at his response, disappointment clouding your expression. "But I thought we could at least look at brochures together? Atleast discuss this thoroughly" you respond, trying to mask your disappointment with a glimmer of hope that he might consider it.

Seungcheol lets out a weary sigh, his tone becoming more serious. "You don't have to give in to everything my family demands. They can be nosy, but they'll eventually drop the topic after a few days." He glances down at his laptop, signaling that the matter is closed.

You can't help but feel a pang of hurt as Seungcheol's words crush your hopeful expectations. The thought of a romantic getaway had brought some solace, but now it seems like a distant dream.

"But Seungcheol," you protest softly, trying to keep your emotions without losing your temper, "it's just that a honeymoon could be a chance for us to spend some quality time together, away from only meeting on breakfasts, away from the hustle of daily life, away from being silent everyday, and both of us make an effort, to get to know each other better" He glances up from his laptop, his expression stoic, but you can sense a hint of frustration in his eyes. "I understand your perspective," he replies calmly, "but I'm not sure a honeymoon is the right way to achieve that. We can spend time together here, without the pressure of a fancy trip. We're not close enough nor we're a match to be doing this in the first place"

at this moment, you find yourself getting defensive...

"It's not about a fancy trip, Seungcheol. It's about creating memories, experiencing new things together, and building a connection outside of this huge mansion... where we live in distant bedrooms" you gesture around you, emphasizing the splendor of the place that seems to distance you both from the real world.

His eyes widen momentarily at your words, and you see a flash of emotion that he quickly hides. "It's not that," he retorts yet defensively, "I just think this honeymoon is an unnecessary pressure, and we should be honest about our feelings and not pretend."

You take a step back, hurt and anger welling up inside you. "So, all this time, we were just a pretense? You're quite audacious to say we're incompatible, considering the amount of time you spend with me. Count the days we ever went out? That's right. Zero" you scoff, "you know what, let's just forget this. Forget I ever asked you anything. Thankyou, for lightening my evening, Good Night" Before he could utter a response or rephrase everything, you stomp your way into your bedroom, hiding your face in your palms, feeling a bit guilty of losing your cool already when it hadn't been a while.

Seungcheol stood there, a mix of regret and realization washing over him. He knew he had made a mistake, once again, with his poorly chosen words to convey his thoughts. The truth was, he had never really learned how to express himself properly; heck he couldn't even say a proper "you're so pretty, I think I have started to find some meaning into this relationship?" to the woman he's been living with, in the same house. Unfortunately words often tumbled out of his mouth without a second thought, and he rarely considered how they might sound or how they could impact the other person. As a result, he found himself remaining silent at critical moments, fearing that his words might only cause more harm than good.

The argument with you had brought this flaw to the forefront of his mind. He recognized that his lack of effective communication had hurt you, leaving you disappointed and disheartened. He raises his fist to knock at your door, wishing he could take back his words and find a way to bridge the growing distance between the two of you, yet again, he retreats.

The same gesture was for you standing in front of your door, trying to atleast add a subtle apology, but an instant realization made you stomp your foot dramatically and jump into the warm bed.

-------------------------------------------------------

The next day, you refuse to make any breakfast, or contribute to the daily household activities like you usually do. You sulk in your room, either pacing back and forth, ordering your meal,coffee and everything upstairs.

It angered you how much you like Seungcheol. How deep of an infatuation you've developed towards him, in such a short time, finding glimpses of someone beneath the surface that you want to know better. Yet, the argument hangs heavy in the air, making you doubt whether your budding emotions stand a chance. You journal everything; how much of an asshole he is to not communicate properly, how many layers are there to him, and the only time you two talk, is for an arguement? Everything frustrated you. You hear Seungcheol in the distant, and as much as you were cross with him, you want to look at him, and admire his presence. Although its the first ever arguement you two share, the typical wife in you, expects flowers and apologies first from your husband.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, would often glance upstairs, or at your door. He would expect to see your charming face, he silently admires. Only to slump his shoulders and leave for work everyday.

✿══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿

Two days pass by, and midnights strike, as you sit alone in your room, the argument with Seungcheol still fresh in your mind, you try to calm your emotions, occassionally collecting your thoughts in process of reading. Lost in your contemplation, you fail to notice the faint smell of burning wires in the air. The faulty switch connected to the lamp had been giving you trouble for a while, but you hadn't paid much attention to it, thinking it was a minor inconvenience, and indeed the most minor issues ignite major disasters.

Suddenly, a small spark ignites near the switch, and within seconds, the flames start to spread rapidly. Second situation of the night escalating this quick. Panic sets in as you realize the danger you're in.

Your heart races as you rush to the door, only to find that it's jammed, likely due to the fire's heat warping the frame. Fear grips you, knowing you're trapped. With no time to waste, you quickly grab your phone and dial the emergency number. Your voice trembles as you explain the situation and your exact location in the house. You yell out Seungcheol's name, as loud as possible, but unable to do so with the smoke rising.

Soon it starts to fill the room, making it hard to breathe. You look around for something to cover your mouth and nose, finding a nearby cloth to protect yourself as you wait for help to arrive. With all your remaining strength, you fan the rising smoke outside the door, to trigger the smoke alarms.

Seungcheol, who was now downstairs fetching a glass of wine trying to prompt an apology for the day he gathers his courage to, smells the smoke and hears the faint crackling of flames; soon he's shaken by the fire alarms sensing smoke. Panic overtakes him as he realizes this leads to your room. As he rushes upstairs, he hears faint bangings from your room, which stops. He calls out your name, but there's no response. Fear for your safety drives him to take action.

Seungcheol approaches the door, with all his force, he breaks it open. only to find the room engulfed in flames. Your figure is barely visible through the dense smoke. He rushes towards your feeble helpless frame, ignoring the scorching heat and billowing smoke. He finds you near window, trying to escape the inferno. With tears in his eyes, he wraps you in his arms and guides you towards the window, with the flames slowly engulfing the entrance door of your room.

In a span of a few minutes, sirens grows louder, and moments later, paramedics and fire brigades arrive, rushing to extinguish the flames and rescue both of you. They break through the main gates, helping you and Seungcheol escape to safety.

"Please check on her! She was unconcious and barely breathing I'm -I Plea-" Seungcheol fails to form a proper sentence.

"Please calm down sir, we're checking on her, and we'll assisst you. You are...?"

"Her husband! Please hurry and check on her god damnit!!" He yells in frustration hoping you're safe.

Soon, you were able to breathe on your own, and slowly you flutter your eyes open, chest heaving from the sudden attack of the horrific accident. Before it could escalate any further, you were given appropriate medications to trigger your drowsiness.

In the aftermath tranquility of this burning situation, Seungcheol stand outside, watching as firefighters work tirelessly to put out the remaining flames. Grateful to have survived the terrifying ordeal, he holds onto your numb hands, finaly letting his tears slip his eyes. He was so grateful to stop a major tragedy, and you're safe, with him.

✿══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿

The morning sunlight gently seeps through the curtains as you feel it, only to be met with haunting flashbacks of the previous night's terrifying fire, your hopeless voice calling your husband's name, beneath your vision. You shot your eyes open and sit up, heart pounding in your chest as the vivid memories replay in your mind, leaving you trembling with fear. Tears stream down your cheeks as the trauma overwhelms you, and you find it hard to catch your breath.

Seungcheol's immediately awaken by your distress, pulling you into his arms. " I'm here y/n calm down shush..." he whispers tenderly, stroking your head, trying to comfort your trembling body as best as he can. He embraces you tightly in his arms, allowing you to cry and release the floodgates of emotions open from the harrowing experience.

He listens to your trembling sobs, his heartbeats a steady rhythm against your ear, and he continues to stroke your arms and back, comforting you through the turmoil. As you find consolation in his warmth, your clenched fists loosen their grip on the fabric of his shirt, his touch brings a sense of safety and reassurance that you desperately need in this moment. You look at him through your red eyes, as he smiles at you endearingly.

"Seungcheol- I...I'm so sorry" you sniff, gripping his hand, "I never knew that faulty switch would bring this huge mess upon us. You must be the one affected the most. I'm so sorry you had to go through this because of me. I should've let you known" you sob.

He gently wipes your tears, resting your head back on his shoulders "as long as you're safe, I'm at peace. It is my fault that I'm so...uh..quite unapproachable? But I went through hell when I saw you. I was sick worried. I'm sorry I should've protected you better. I should've run a new repair scheme as soon as you moved in. It was my insensitivity to let the most minor things slide" he slowly lies down, with you close to him. He smelled nothing like how the entire house did. He smelled sweet and strong. Everything indeed happens for a reason, as you sense how you're into the man, who rarely touches you, holding you dear.

Throughout the day, your husband Seungcheol stayed by your side, enveloping you in comforting embraces. He ordered breakfast to be delivered to his room, encouraging you to take small steps towards regaining your strength and energy to get on your feet. He offered the support you needed to gather the courage to move on your own and freshen up with a soothing shower.

While you were in the shower, he quietly left the room, allowing you some privacy to release the pent-up emotions that had been bottled up inside you. As the water washed away your tears, the conversations from two nights ago still loomed heavily, unresolved between you both. Yet, amidst the silence and uncertainty, there were his tender gazes - soft and caring. They were like ice on a sunburn, cooling your worries and offering a glimpse of hope. Though words may not have been spoken, his presence spoke volumes, showing that he was there for you in this trying time. You peer outside the window, to see the iron gates glistening with the fog, pitch black sky and the time's almost 11.

Once again, your husband returns into his room, after confirming you've changed, and he smiles at you, approaching with a plate of fruits and berries of all kinds. He was unsure of what your favorite fruit was. He felt unfortunate, of how unaware he is of your preferences. He hands you a bowl of strawberries, and elegantly peels an orange, handing the fruit to you.

"I'm sorry about the previous night" he begins. It catches you off-guard, yet you figure out you're the listener now. "I'm not the best with words, and I do realize I've hurt you-or even worse, left you disheartened. Yet again, I'm at a loss of what should I say, except that let's go on with the honeymoon plans. It may not be the best time right now, but whenever you're sure of doing this, tell me every detail about it; everything you desire for. We'll discuss it." he lifts his eyes towards you, with a subtle smile.

"I thought about everything, and upon contemplation, I realize I do want to give us a chance" you couldn't contain the bubbling happiness, and immediately hug him "thankyou so so so much Seungcheol. I'm glad you get my point" he was frozen at this sudden gesture, yet didn't fail to chuckle. Although he smiled discreetly knowing how wife-coded you are. "Let's begin as friends? Married friends? We'll know each other little by little" you suggest. "Sure, whatever you suggest" he smiles, shaking your hand.

✿══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿

Amidst the haunting shadows of the accident's aftermath, and quite some insomnias later, time became your ally, gently coaxing you out of the horrors that had shaken your world. However you found an unexpected haven of love and affection with your husband. In your head, this friendship has escalated rapidly. A realization dawned upon you - the past may have shaped your paths, but the present had the power to rewrite destinies. Over time you had found solace in cohabitation with your husband, late-night conversations about life's intricacies, you delved into shared preferences, whispered dreams, cherished birthdays, and bittersweet memories of childhood. And everyday you discover new sides of him. Soon, you call him "husband" essentially finding pride and power in doing so. He was surprised at first, yet now he loves being called nicknames like "Cheol" or "Cheollie".

In Seungcheol, you found everything you admired in a man - daring, possessive, with a stunning face and a strong physique. He loved to be in shape, and encouraged you to stay fit, though romance wasn't his forte, he never faltered in taking care of necessities. While you weren't sure if you brightened his world, he became your epiphany. His struggles with eye contact and occasional mindless words unveiled the emotions he guarded, making you grateful for the accident that brought you together; without it, you might have given up on him. Now, you cherished the connection that had grown, exploring the depths of both your hearts.

Seungcheol realized soon that the collision of your worlds had a purpose, unveiling the potential for love and connection he hadn't dared to imagine. He slowly felt a major change in himself. Slowly, a transformation took place within him. Moments that were once filled with hesitation and distance, now became opportunities for seeking your attention, for his eyes to meet yours. He longed to be closer to you, finding comfort in watching you sleep peacefully at night and waking up to your smile each morning.

However, amidst this newfound affection, he couldn't decipher where his heart truly lay. Your mother's loving gestures and his sister-in-law's respectful fondness were easy to understand, but when it came to your feelings, he was left uncertain. Did you like him back? Would you ever be able to reciprocate his love? The questions lingered, leaving him vulnerable to the unknown, anxiously awaiting the day he could unravel the mysteries of your heart. It's an endless marathon in his mind.

It took him 4 days to gather his courage and ask you for coffee. You laugh and obviously agreed to accompany him to the city's famous coffee spot. Like the man he was, he memorizes your order and pulls into a drive thru.

Seungcheol drives to a spot he usually stops by, to ease his frustrations; Parks. Laughter of children, romantic couples sharing pda, and a bridge that separates cherry blossoms from the playground, you're immediately in love with this scenario. Both of you share some laughter, and enjoy your coffees and croissants, while the petals of the blossoms shed upon you. The look of love you two exchanged was long; to leave your coffees cold and croissants dry. Both of your worlds revolved around each other, only for Kkuma's barks to bring you back in reality, being greeted by Seungcheol's brother and his wife. Your delightful evening ends with a comfortable dinner and living your best chances of being Kkuma's mother, something your two month marriage with Seungcheol lacked.

Soon enough, you persuaded Seungcheol to shift houses permanently. Despite your old room being perfectly repaired, the trauma of sleeping alone had left a lasting impact. Bonus was Kkuma finally moving in with you and Seungcheol. Understanding your perspective, Seungcheol readily accepted to have you in his room in this house, and the new one seeking, welcoming the idea without hesitation.

Within a mere three days, you both found yourselves settling into your new furnished apartment, which, wasn't expansive, it rather held the essence of a cozy aesthetic. With only one guest room upstairs and a spacious bedroom, you had insisted on sharing the same space, declining any notions of personal separation. He made sure to double check every single thing, to disapprove any mishaps.

"Cheol, this is beautiful! I-I love it!! Thankyou so much, husband!" To him it's no new information, but his cheeks flushed shades of cherries. You were too busy exploring your new house, and he couldn't help but adore every inch of your ecstacy.

"Any time, wife" he replies after clearing his throat, and containing his ecstacy.

You poured your gratitudes to Seungcheol the entire day and actively joined hands with you, playfully engaging in household tasks, cherishing every moment as you transformed the apartment into your shared abode, a place that signified the start of your new world together.  Nothing changed in terms of routine, however, you two communicate often,and now there were sparks of mischief from Seungcheol, indicating that silence was no more a welcoming guest. And now Kkuma being an addition, you enjoyed being indoors and outdoors with her. It wasn't often both of you enjoy going out often unless its something such as icecream dates or coffee, or some relaxing walks, because neither of you go anywhere out of your comfort zone; except for a business trip or grocery shopping, however the joy of turning down people who ask for your status, was thrilling. You felt a sense of superiority.

═════════════════════

The next evening he returns home a little earlier than expected, searching for an important flash drive in his drawer. It seemed you were in shower, considering how loud you were singing. He smiles, hearing your soft voice echoing in the room, and suddenly the door knob twisting open. Seungcheol quickly slides open the closet door and gets inside.

It was foolish of him to hide instead of leave, but he thought maybe his presence would freak you out. He slowly opens a little to take notes of the surrounding and was taken aback, seeing you in a towel, and your hair wrapped. He gulps, seeing your glistening body smell like lavender, spreading in the room.

Seeing you in this new light, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire mixed with love. He had never viewed you with such intense admiration before. Tempted to touch and hold you, he controlled his impulses, knowing it was too soon for his hands to explore your curves yet this is the most skin he's seen of you.

You lie down on the bed, laughing and smiling to everything that went in your beautiful mind. Soon you dial your best friend and start off a conversation. Seungcheol senses this was a grave mistake, because phonecalls are obviously long. He had no choice but to stay inside until you're distracted. He facepalms himself, and slowly leans towards the side. You put the phone on speaker while you do your post shower rituals, moisturizing yourself in view of the full length mirror.

"Is Seungcheol home right now? Or should I say your husband" your friend teases you

"Good lord, no he's not. Infact a business trip awaits his presence"

"Tch that's sad. No wonder why you're calling me and not him"

"My man's busy. Sometimes I just hope come early one day and catch me like this? My mind goes places whenever I get out of shower and think of him coming in without notice" you smile coyly "darling you're on my to-do list tonight" you chuckle. Seungcheol could only smirk, after hearing your fantasies.

"Honey you're too inexperienced for this" she retorts

"Inexperienced my foot, I miss my husband already.... and safe to say I actually love him" you sigh.

"Have you told him about your feelings? Have you told him you've never been laid and are deprived" Seungcheol closely listens to everything, occasionally holding his laughter.

"No" you pout again, falling on your back, unaware of seungcheol who was shamelessly hearing you, while admiring your raised chest, that was swollen out off the unknown feelings of you, from him.

"I want to. Everytime I look at him, I want to tell him  'oh Cheollie I love you' " you laugh with your friend, "I'm seriously in love with him and it scares me how quick and sudden it all was. And now its- he's giving me mixed signals. Sometimes he's distant, and sometimes he makes me the most lucky woman ever. I want to tell him I love him, I just don't know when or how" you continue

"Dont say anything. Just go on your honeymoon, and sit on his face, the 2nd hour. Afterall actions speak louder than words"  both of you laugh heartily. Seungcheol breathes out a laugh yet onto it, knowing it's over if he's caught.

"Tell me about it" you sigh.

"Seriously! Talk with him and confess! Since when did you become such a big pussy"

"Honey I'm the one with the pussy"

"Goddamn, you- seriously- talk to him. What if he s involved in someone else the time you say the words"

You went silent, the thought just made you sit back up, nd think about it. Could he really have someone else?

"I...highly doubt that. My mother-in-law said he's never really had a serious relationship, since he was focused on training back then"

"Honey its not written on your face that you've never had a man, it aint written on his face that he may have a potential girlfriend before you. What you'll be doing then?" Your friend continues "I hope he's not doing this out of sympathy, considering that whole incident"

Again you felt numb all over, it would've killed you inside out if the signs of Seungcheol's empathy and love was all out of sympathy. However you shake your thoughts, and put a heavy heart on your words, "Then what I'm the one who married him, and I get to choose if I stay or take the other way"

Seungcheol gulped, knowing time is definitely ticking and if he still don't do anything, he'll surely regret.

"Atta girl!"

Suddenly Kkuma runs out from underneath your bed and into the bathroom, and you chase her. "Ahhhhh kkuma stop you frenzy lil- I'll call back later" you chase your daughter, and Seungcheol seeks this as a perfect opportunity to escape.

"Kkuma!!!! That's your dad's favorite shampooo aaa!" You exclaim. Seungcheol takes this opportunity to sprint out of the room, laughing a little at your banter. The smile plastered on his face was priceless. His chest heaved with happiness, ego swollen with pride, heart relieved and thrilled with all the revelations. If he knew anything as a businessman, it was to have a plan. He needs to be prepared for everything beforehand and time was a precious investment. And it was finally time he need to make his first move.

══════════════════════

"Are you interested in accompanying me to this business trip?" Seungcheol asks, out of the blue during breakfast.

"Well, I don't see exactly why wouldn't I" you raise your brows "thought I'd say no"

"Hey hey, it's not that! I just wondered if you'd be up for some adventure, that's all."

"Adventure, huh?" you reply, pretending to ponder dramatically. "Hmm, only if you promise to bring some fun into this 'business' trip."

He smirks, tapping his fingers on the table. "Deal! I'll make sure it's the most adventurous business trip you've ever been on" you're aware of your husband's antics, and it's evident he's brewing something.

You laugh, finding his playful demeanor contagious. "Alright then, you've got yourself a travel buddy. But you better keep your promise, Mr. Businessman."

Seungcheol winks, flashing you a charismatic smile. "Oh, don't you worry, Mrs. Businesswoman. It'll be an unforgettable journey" Kkuma barks in excitement

"Exactly Kkuma" he cheers.

You couldn't help but smile, at how domestic life has turned ever since the coast is clear between you two. The idea of being overseas with Seungcheol sparked a new imagination for you.

✿═══✿ ═╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿

Whoever said travelling is easy, it never is.

After hours of a tiring flight, you found yourself in Singapore, the astonishing city of tourism. The sights were indeed beautiful, with city skyscrapers and landscapes that mesmerized you. The fresh air was a welcome change, adding a touch of excitement to this trip. Your husband, with his penchant for luxury, had chosen a hotel room at a height, providing a stunning view of the city and the rivers below."It must be even more beautiful at night," you thought, taking in the scenery.

Seungcheol's voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, looking incredibly attractive in his white shirt.

"Like what you see?" he teased, clearly enjoying the attention he was receiving.

"Sure I do," you replied with a nervous smile, trying to contain your admiration for him.

"I'll shower first then! I'll be heading out soon, so please order lunch for me as well," he said, scrunching his nose playfully before disappearing into the bathroom.

Following his request, you ordered lunch and kept yourself busy taking pictures of the breathtaking views from your room. Lost in the beauty of the city, you were interrupted by the doorbell, and to your surprise, there stood Seungcheol, clad only in sweatpants, with the towel hanging around his shoulders. You tried your best to keep composure "Oop! Quite a timing, lunch is here" you tried to maintain eye contact but it was hard; both for your eyes to keep to his face, and for his nipples to remain soft in the chilly air of the A/C. It was thrilling and embarassing, considering you now know what he is inside that white shirt he always wears.

"Sure, Thanks. Heard my phone ring" he walks over to the side table for his phone "I'll be quick" he chuckles knowing the effect he had on you. You swore you felt tingles everywhere, and bury your face in your hands, hiding the flusters of your red face and feels. Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol could see your flustered reactions through the reflection of the window; full enough to capture the city's highlights. He knew he has unlocked a new level.

"Sure this journey will be unforgettable"

✿═✿═✿═✿═✿═✿✿═✿═✿═✿═✿═✿

While Seungcheol's been busy attending meetings and chats with his clients, you took this opportunity to explore the city's famous landmarks, enjoying some street shows, and a visit to art galleries and ice cream parlors. The times he's available, he shines as usual; enjoying different flavors, mingling with the dancers, and spending like anything on ferris wheel rides, and to exquisite places you've either seen on searches, or never heard of it.

"So Mrs Businesswoman how are you enjoying your stay so far?" He inquires, leaning rowards the railings of the bridge.

"Amazing, you really know how to explore, Mr Dora" you smile. "How long is your business work though?"

"Why is it? Don't you like it here?" He frowns

"No no, it's that you must be tired commuting back and forth, just making sure you don't get sick"

"Don't worry, besides, weren't you the one to be enthusiastic about a honeymoon" he looks up at the starry sky. An instant realization came to you

"Ooh.... I-damn you sneaky lil I should've known why would you ask me to accompany you all of a sudden" you squint at him "I'm not complaining though. You have quite an elite taste" you smile

"Then lets go get dinner and we'll chill on some champagne later" the idea sounds wonderful already. Seungcheol holds your hand, and your heartbeat accelerated at this gesture

"You don't mind...this do you?" He asks, eyes glistening with innocence as if he doesn't tease you every morning.

"No, Honey" you smile. Despite Seungcheol's occasional flirty tactics, you realized that he had eyes only for you.

The next hour after a delicious dinner, you were in shower, and decided to make him suffer twice the time he does, so you come out in slippers, and a piece of towel barely covering your body, just enough to enhance your curves. Your husband who was pouring champagnes, turns around, to his absolute shock, he was foaming, eye-fucking you. You instantly knew you hit the bullseye.

"Forgot my toner here" you smile innocently, and unintentionally fulfilling your fantasies. Whatever was hard, was definitely not because of the temperature. Soon you return in just an oversized shirt and some shorts, that has been your usual night-fit. He hands you your glass, looking a bit horny. There was silence. Quite a sexually tempting one. Lights were dim, the view was spectacular.

It's when he realized he's had enough and pulls you on top of him, your lingerie-less body hitting his hard chest

"God..Seungcheol what is-"

"I'm I hav- Oh god I don't know how to say this" he contemplates, as you see his soft lips between his teeth

"What the hell you're the one to pull me on you" you roll your eyes

"Sorry I'm I-"

"Never mind" you hold his face and attach your lips with his. To be frank, you've had tolerated enough and it's time you do sit on his face.

The synchronization of your lips moving with his, was very perfect for a first time. You kept on kissing and kissing, exploring every inch of his mouth until he pushes you for a catch of breath. You flutter your eyes open and smile, slowly transcending to a laugh

"God you're so...menacing" he speaks "about time you finally do what you said to your frien-" he stops knowing he said a little too much. You look at him in shock "does that mean you-"

"Sorry" he nervously says. You squint your eyes at him again, very suspiciously "how much did you listen"

"Everything" he confessed "it was unintentional, you were busy on the call and I came for something then I forgot common sense. Sorry" he apologizes. You knew the cat had been out of the box, you were unable to notice it. You sigh, after a quick contemplation

"Well, it's no secret anymore. Here I'll say it fir-" he puts a finger on your lip, switching positions, where he is on top of you now. It earned a small squeak from you, yet you felt your core getting a bit wet by how attractive that was. His leg rested between yours.

"Let me" he stares in your soul. You gulped, kind of getting wet by how his built is hovering on you.

"Y/N, I'm foolishly, in fucking love with you" the sudden profanity made you grin a little harder, all while he strokes a loose strand off your face "honestly. I can't believe it took me this long to express my..sheer love for you, y/n. Back then, i would've died without you but now I...would die for you. I can't imagine a world without you, so if you please let me be yours forever?"

"I hated every inch of air I shared with you then, and how we were just bonded without sharing a hello" you smile, cupping his face "I never imagined I'd find every moment with you, so profound. Every minute with you was magical, and it only concludes how destined we are for each other"

"I love you Seungcheol"

"I love you too..."

With that, he took the "action speak louder than words" a little too serious. His lips wrestle for dominance with yours, and the thigh that was calm, started stirring up a storm between your legs, as he continuously grinds on you. You pull onto the hem of his shirt, and he immediately does, while his hands explore your body inside your shirt. He slowly makes his way from your lips to your neck. Everything felt so ecstatic; it was your new high. You clenched onto the soft pillows for dear life, when Seungcheol slides himself into your oversized shirt, his lips between the valley of your perky breasts, craving his attention. He admires every inch of your perfectly created body.

"Stop...teasing" you moan. He feigned ignorance, continuing to play with your sensations. He pulls you up by your back, and swiftly removes the shirt and throws it on the floor. "There's no stopping me tonight y/n," is the last thing he says before pinching your nipples, and making the best use of his mouth on them. He enjoys hearing the profanities escape your lips, and how your voice changes upon pleasure.

You push him by his shoulders and get down on him, sliding the waistband of his shorts down to his knees, his dick springing high on your face. You gaze at his length before mindlessly taking every inch in your hands. "You..you..do..nt hhhave to ddoo t-ohhh" he groans. "You don't tell me what to do...."

"Such a brat" he smirks, letting you rule his excitement. He felt his high, once you slowly took him in your mouth, taking in as much as you could without gagging (yet) it's a matter of time he shifts from a thread of "oh ffuckk" "you're doing it so good" to "I'm gonna cum" and it's when you stop. You hastily take your shorts off and slowly grind on him. Seungcheol was panting manic. He was a mess. The entire room reeked of lust and his musky scent overshadowing, with his sweat. It proved how much of an authority you held on him

"Slide all the way up to my face beautiful I don't bite"

That's all you needed for your dripping core to slide on his nose, to his mouth. His tongue did wonders. You were sure you wouldn't last long considering this is your first oral ever, and sure you didn't, his tongue toyed with your nerves, and used every "shits" "fucks" "oh cheol" as his drive to go deeper in your cunt. "I'll cum I'm cumming I-" you release on his lips, and like a man, he devours it all.

"Delicious"

"You...you sound like cand..candy crush for god's sake" you breathily chuckle, and he follows, slowly getting up, to position himself on you.

"Then allow me to...'smash' " he presses a tender kiss on your forehead, before entering your core. You squeezed his hand, asking him to be gentle and burying your face in his neck, fingers in his back. It felt so...weird the first few minutes, but as he slowly moves, the funky feeling, the pain, it all vanishes. It's all when you realize you're actually getting laid. The sounds you've never considered you'd make, were too loud, way too unholy. Seungcheol was holding your leg, and was going slow till you adjust to him. His low groans and breathy moans turned you on even further, where you move your head to face him and slap his arm

"Giv...give me e...every..thing, husband. Take me all the way up" you breathe out. It's when he increases his pace, once he received your green signal. The slow slaps, were now louder and faster. Your bed was also giving up on concealing it's squeaks. He holds you in his arms, and continues thrusting in you.

Nothing else in the world mattered but the pressure you felt in between your legs and your delicious heat wrapping around him, engulfing him in until he bottomed out. His head falling into the crock of your neck, whispering sweet nothings against it while he started to fuck you slowly.

“Y-You feel so good, so w-warm.” Seungcheol kissed you, feverishly, swallowing your moans. His soft lips whimpering against yours. “I want to be inside you forever.” His hips moving against yours slowly, making sure you could feel all of him inside you. His hands never leave from your back and pushed you against him, chests heaving against one another’s. You arched your back, gripping the blankets underneath you. "Oh Seungcheo...god....cheol..." you breathe. He continued tinting your neck with his masterwork, and swiftly positions you on all fours. The joy you felt by the way he dominated you, and messed with your fucked out state, was bringing you heaven. You go low, arms stretching towards the headboard, while he grabs them, locking them behind your back, and even going hard.

There was no stopping him, all while the whole city from your foggy windows witness you making love witb your husband.

"Look at yourself, love" he turns your head to the mirror on the right "look at us..mmm..." he moans in your ear his hand snaking in between your bodies searching for the little bud of pleasure. You scream in pure ecstscy.

He turns you around, so swiftly,  with his thumb hovering over it, the suspense had you withering, begging for him to touch you the only way he knew how. You whimpered feeling the ghost of his touch, your fingers tweaking at your nipple, sending a rush of pleasure through your body. "C..ch..chheoll..., mmm, I-I need to cum.” You pressed your chest into his back, turning your head all the way up, watching as his face contorted into pure bliss, his thrusts getting sloppier, his connected thumb with your clit and rubbing slow figure eight, constrasting the speed of his thrusts. You gasped raising your hips rocking against his hips and hand, feeling the sweet coil start to build up "im..fucking serious oh....my..."

"Release all on me, love" he demands amidst moans "Cum with me. Savour every drop of it" and it's all you needed to finally finish on him. He groaned finding your free hand and interlocking your fingers with his. You clenched around him. He was pumping as well, and you felt all warmth being filled inside you. Every thing about this was so surreal, so new, so perfect. You breathe as if you had run a marathon; a marathon of lust. Seungcheol hugs you, and stays inside you, caressing your head, showering you with compliments that you were brave and did well for your first time. The sense of encouragement brought tears to your eyes as you bury your face in his chest. He caressed your back with tender touches, and slowly lays you on your back, plopping down next to you.

"You're officially all mine" he kisses your shoulder. You hold his hand tightly, "you're mine as well, babe"

For the first time, you felt real comfort, real love, and an unimaginable intimate experience with your husband. And a shower too.

Seungcheol's heart hadn’t stopped palpitating since. His stomach erupted into butterflies whenever he had held you close throughout the immoral escapades the two of you had engaged in all night. He never wanted to let you go and now as he looked down into your glittering eyes with the heat of the golden sun rays hitting your sensitive bodies.

"Wake up husband"

"I think I want to sleep all day tonight" he shuffles closer to you.

"Oh who knew it would hard to wake my husband up from his slumber"

"Blaming on your irresistable charm" he squeezes your butt under covers.

"Owh! I'll need my own room again if you do th.." his hands cup your clothed core

"Hmmm...you were saying?"

"You.." you fail to form sentences once he starts rubbing your core, slow dense circles.

"Hands to yoursel..f or I'll bite" you whisper

"Oh, my damsel in distress" his voice is contagiously attractive;waste no time as he goes down on you undercovers.

═════════════════════

"We're really leaving Singapore as lovers" he chimes, an ear-to-ear grin fixed on, enhancing his dimples.

"Yeah if it weren't you to have the same traits as you family, you nosy lil witch" you exhale, standing in front of the fountains, almost nearing the airport

"I'm always nosy about everything" he smirks

"Honesty is not always the best policy Mr Choi"

He pulls you dangerously close "You have no idea, Mrs Choi"

"You need a haircut"

"All I'll ever need is...you" he holds onto you like a sloth on a branch, as you two harmonize in a melodious laugh.

It is you, he wants to tell everything to. He'll express his love for you, while he holds your hands in his.

And if there's eternal love, Seungcheol is that person for you.

✿═✿═✿═✿═✿═✿c✿═✿═✿═✿═✿═✿

Thenkyoui for reading!! Stay bias wrecked by him <3

#seventeen #seventeen fic #scoups #ashwrites #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #scoups x you #scoups x reader #scoups fanfic #seungcheol fics #seungcheol #choi seungcheol fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #cheol #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol svt #scoups x y/n #scoups fluff #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen scoups #seungcheol fluff #if youre reading this

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (18/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Canned soup always works wonders.

Warnings: cliffhanger (whoopsie), angst (duh), Lando is a cutie, swear words

Word Count: 3.6k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: not 10k words, but I did my absolute best. thanks for always having my back. I love you.

 "Fuck!" You cross your arms in front of your face and exhale deeply. "FUCK!"

How hard can it be to find an apartment in the south of France? An apartment that has a shower, a bed, and a stove top? A window would be ideal, too, but you have to cut back somewhere, after all. But even a single room in a shared apartment costs almost 2,000€ - how much do you have to pay for an apartment where your privacy is not disturbed?

Although that didn't bother you much in this apartment either. After all, you even shared the only bed with Charles. Voluntarily. The longer you think about it, the worse your headache gets.

After slamming the door in his face yesterday and then wallowing in your misery for hours, you decided to tackle the apartment hunt this morning. You don't want to spend a second longer than necessary in these four walls, which is why you briefly considered asking Kika if you could move in with her and Pierre at short notice and only for a short period of time.

But then you would also have to explain what happened. And since both of them are Charles' friends first and foremost, you don't want to get in the way, even though he's been acting like a huge asshole.

Meanwhile, you're neither sad nor angry - you're just disappointed.

Of him, because he's gone to so much lengths in the last few days to make you feel at home in his company and presence. He showed you the place that is most important to him, told you about his father and showed you his vulnerable side. He has indirectly supported you financially by getting Joris to pay you back and waiving the accruing rent. By God, he even took you to dinner with his friends so you could meet them because he thought "you'd fit in quite well."

And then he ditches you, showing his coldest, rudest, nastiest side by using what your last relationship failed at against you.

But you are even more disappointed in yourself. There has been absolutely no reason why you should trust Charles so much after such a short time. You told him about Raphael, that he left you because you wouldn't sleep with him, and that he cheated on you. You took his compliments without even a thought as to whether he meant them. You had even had a fucking - hot - sex dream with him. 

You trusted him blindly. And that's getting back at you now.

Lounging lazily on the couch and looking at apartments that are definitely beyond your budget isn't an approach to making you feel better either, so you decide to pack your suitcase already.

If you can't find a place to stay in a hurry, you'd move to a hotel first. Or a hostel. You wouldn't have any privacy there, but at least they are so cheap that you could stay there longer and thus have more time to look for something reasonable.

And anything is better than staying here.

You open the suitcase you've kept in the closet for months, spread it out on the bed, and start putting your clothes in it. Sweaters, jeans, gym clothes, underwear - the stuff you don't want to leave home without. When it's filled and locked, you put it next to the door of your room. But only to realize that your whole life doesn't fit into one suitcase.

You put your hands on your hips. 

You still have a few days before Charles returns. Theoretically, you would still have enough time to get another suitcase, because you haven't packed your shoes or bathroom utensils yet. And you can only fit a few things into your gym bag.

A ping sounds from the living room, and as you poke your head into the room, you see your cell phone light up on the coffee table. You pick it up to read the message.

Lando: Hi. I wanted to check in and see if you're feeling a little better today. Been worried about you all night.

You're chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Yesterday at noon you sent a message to Lando saying that you were feeling unwell and so unfortunately you couldn't go out with him. Aside from the fact that your eyes were swollen from crying and no ice cube in the world could have helped you with that, it didn't feel right to have dinner with him.

Charles had thrown it at you that Lando only wanted to go out with you to get you into bed. How much truth there was to that, you don't know. After all, Charles said some things that hurt you. But whether you can take them at face value is another matter.

Charles has known the Brit for much longer and, above all, better than you. And the way he has courted and flirted with you since you first met, there may be some truth in Charles' words.

But even if there were, Charles has no right to judge. To judge how you handle the matter, whether you like going out with Lando or not. And if you were to go out with him, it could be on a purely friendly basis. Maybe you would have dated and immediately realized that you would be better off as friends. 

But you can't find that out now without worry. Now that Charles has hurt you so much and pushed you away. His words are burned into your mind, which is why you answer Lando carefully.

You: I'm feeling better already, thank you. I'm sorry I had to cancel our dinner.

His reply comes immediately.

Lando: You don't need to apologize. I'm just relieved that you're feeling better. Have you eaten anything today?

As if on cue, your stomach is growling. Yesterday your mood was so low that you lost your appetite and, apart from a few cornflakes, you couldn't choke down anything. And that's exactly what you answer him. 

Lando: All right. Give me half an hour and then I'll be with you, okay?

Indecisive, you type a reply, delete it, and start again. Does it make sense to let Lando into the apartment while you're in the process of packing your bags? If that's exactly what Charles was addressing?

Charles can go to hell.

You merely give Lando a thumbs-up in response before putting your phone aside and going to the bathroom to get ready for a bit. You may not care how you look right now, but you still don't want Lando to think the worst of you. You comb your hair, wash your face, and slip into more appropriate clothes than your sleeping clothes before cleaning up the living room a bit.

When the doorbell rings, you flinch. 

You open the apartment door and a smiling Lando stands in front of it. He is wearing a black sweater with a zipper on the collar and black sweatpants. In his hand he holds a white bag.

"I didn't know which canned soup was your favorite. And that's why," he raises the bag next to his face, "I brought a selection." Grinning, he pushes past you and enters. 

You close the door behind him. "You didn't have to do that."

As if it were a matter of course and as if he were here every day, he takes off his white sneakers and heads toward the kitchen, which of course he finds immediately because of the size of the apartment, and takes the cans out of the bag. "I know," he replies to you, setting the soups side by side before turning to you and resting his hands behind him on the edge of the counter. "But I'm someone who cares about his friends when they're miserable. So," he rubs his hands together. "which soup do you want to try first?"

The selection the Brit brought with him is limited to chicken, beef or vegetables, with the picture on the can of the former looking the most appealing. While he heats the soup in a small pot on the stove, you sit at the dining table and watch him. 

"May I ask why you weren't feeling well yesterday?" he asks, wooden spoon in hand, stirring the soup.

Indecisively, you look at him. 

Lando is Charles' friend. And you don't want to tell him about how Charles treated you yesterday any more than you want to tell Kika or Pierre. Because even though he hurt you so much, you don't want his friends to think badly of him. 

Lando hands you a bowl of soup before sitting down across from you in the seat that actually belongs to Charles. An image flashes before your eyes of you eating croissants for breakfast with your roommate. Sitting across from each other, eating pasta, even though you've only known each other for half an hour.

You barely noticeably shake your head to get rid of the image. A movement that Lando takes as an answer to his question. 

"Okay. But if you need to talk to someone, I'm here for you."

You smile at him. It's the exact same phrase Charles said to you in the most beautiful place in Monaco when you were feeling so bad about Raphael's call. It feels like a lifetime ago. 

"Thank you," you reply to Lando. "I really appreciate that."

As you comfortably spoon up your soup in a slightly better mood, the Brit tells you about his plans for the coming Christmas. He wants to fly back to England to be with his parents and siblings. He shows you pictures of his niece Mila, who steals the show in every photo, but you can't blame her with the chubby cheeks. 

"I can't wait to see everyone again," Lando says as he puts his phone in his back pocket. "Are you spending Christmas with your family, too?"

You shake your head. "Nope, I'm staying here." 

Lando looks at you, confused. "Alone? What about Charles? He'd take you to see his family for sure."

He would. In fact, he offered when the two of you sat at Jori's dinner table a few days ago. You remember how the two of them joked around, even though Charles had been busting his best friend's chops just minutes before. You thought that you wouldn't do anything that would risk that friendship. 

A thought you had often. 

"Where is he, anyway?" asks Lando, stretching to be able to see the rest of the apartment from where he's sitting, which isn't difficult when the apartment itself isn't particularly much bigger than a shoebox. 

You look into the empty bowl you're clutching tightly. "He has meetings in Italy," you reply curtly, setting it on the table in front of you before pulling your knees up to your chest. 

Your friend raises an eyebrow. "Are you going there too?" As you shake your head in confusion, he points to a spot behind you with a nod of his head. "I'm just asking because there's a suitcase there."

As you turn around, you immediately realize what Lando means. You've left the bedroom door open, and from where he's sitting, he has a perfect view of the doorstep. Right to where your suitcase is. 

"It's not for that," you reply. 

"What for then?"

You stand up to stall some time, and to avoid looking Lando in the eye. You rinse the bowl slowly, hoping you'll think of another good excuse to give him. But you don't want to lie to him either. After all, Lando doesn't deserve that. 

And that's why you don't say anything as you reach for the kitchen towel to dry the bowl. You rub over each spot at least three times, and even though it's already completely dry, you keep wiping over it. 

When you suddenly feel a warm hand on your shoulder, you wince. 

"What did he do?" Lando's voice is calm and gentle as he takes the bowl and cloth from your hand and sets both down on the countertop. 

"Nothing," you reply curtly, and are about to grab a glass from the cabinet when his large hand clasps yours and stops you in your tracks. 

"Come on, Y/N." Lando pulls lightly on your hand to make you turn in his direction. You keep your head lowered, however. 

If you were looking at him right now - you just can't lie to him.

"I know Charles," he says softly, before placing his index finger under your chin and lifting it to make you look at him. When you look into his worried blue eyes, you've lost the fight. "What did he do?"

You can't stop the tears that gather in the corners of your eyes. Nor can you stop them from rolling down your cheeks as you try to blink them away. Lando thinking badly of his monegasque friend is the last thing you want. 

But if you move away from here, you certainly won't see Lando again either. And then, theoretically, you may as well not care what he thinks of his friend. And after all, it's not like Charles didn't deserve it, the way he treated you. Charles brought it on himself. 

You tell Lando everything. 

You start with the fact that Raphael cheated on you and dumped you. That you lost your job a few days ago and Charles was suddenly standing in your - his - apartment. You tell him about your agreement to share the apartment because he still lets his ex-girlfriend live in his first apartment and that after four days he grew so close to your heart that it made you dizzy. 

You tell him about Raphael waiting for you in front of the apartment on the day of the dinner with your friends, and that's why you had to spend the night at Kika's, and that Charles called you in a panic and after that you shared the bed for the first time. How you were so unsure about your feelings, because Charles is Charles, and that he had you completely wrapped around his little finger, even though you've only known each other for a few days. 

You tell him about yesterday morning. What he threw at you, even though he knew exactly how much it would hurt you. How he talked about his own friend to make you feel even more insecure. And you tell him that you told Charles that you were going to move out. 

Lando stays silent the whole time, but doesn't take his eyes off you. His eyes follow every tear that drips from your chin onto your sweater, and in between he gently squeezes your hand as a sign that he's following your story. 

When you fall silent, he says nothing at first, but pulls you toward the living room, where he places you both on the couch. You worry that you've told him too much, gone a giant step too far, but it all just poured out of you and you couldn't stop the torrent of words. 

But Lando doesn't seem to be angry with you. Quite the opposite. His gaze seems softer as you look at him. "I'd like to offer you the guest room in my apartment," he finally says. "But I don't think you'd accept the offer."

You tighten your mouth into a thin line. "I think it would be best if I just moved away. There's nothing keeping me here. No job, no responsibilities. I can go anywhere." You wrench your arms in the air. "Maybe I'll get a job in the United States. Or in Australia. Just really far away from here."

"That would be a possibility, of course," Lando replies. "But that can't be what you really want, can it?"

Puzzled, you tilt your head. "Why not?"

Lando leans against the back of the sofa. "You could have moved away when you were fired. Or when Raphael dumped you. But you stayed."

You shrug helplessly. "But now I have a reason to leave."

"Do you?" he asks. 

"Obviously."

"Then why didn't you tell me everything yesterday? Or when I was just outside your door? Or warming up your soup?" he counters. You don't like the direction this conversation is taking. "You could have told me all about it right away. But you didn't, because you didn't want me to think badly of Charles."

You shrug, trying to express your indifference towards your still-roommate. But Lando isn't buying it. Not one bit of it. 

"Come on, Y/N. You can't tell me you don't care about him at all. If you did, you wouldn't be so upset by all this that you'd want to leave the country. And then you wouldn't have tried to protect him in the first place."

You hate that he's right.

"I didn't realize you were so emotionally mature," you reply to him, slightly flippantly, and no sooner have you said it than you're sorry. "Sorry. You're not the person I'm mad at." You pucker your mouth into a thin line. "Are you mad at him? At Charles?"

Lando shrugs. "I'm not thrilled, of course, that a friend of mine would talk about me that way. Especially since he knows none of it is true," he explains. "Charles is good at pushing people away who mean something to him. I just don't know if he's doing it to protect the person or himself."

"Definitely himself." You shake your head. "You don't do something like that to protect someone! That's complete bullshit!"

"Are you sure about that?" Lando rubs his palm over his cheek. "Weren't you planning on sleeping on the couch and breaking your deal?"

You raise your index finger. "Nuh-uh. That was to protect myself."

"So you haven't been telling yourself the last few days that a friendship between you is better? After all, your ex cheated on you and left you because you wouldn't sleep with him. You got fired, Y/N. Your emotional baggage is higher than the Eiffel Tower." He puts a hand on your shoulder. "You know I don't mean that in a bad way, or to hurt you. But I'm sure you're trying to protect not only your heart, but Charles' heart as well."

You feel tears welling up in your eyes again. But this time you don't even try to stop them. "He deserves someone better. Someone who won't lie to him. Someone who doesn't carry around so much baggage." You shake your head slightly and wrinkle your nose. "He deserves someone great."

Lando's hand moves from your shoulder down their arm until he can intertwine his fingers with yours. He squeezes them gently. "I know someone who's been hurt so much, but still sees the good in people." He smiles at you. "I don't know anyone more great than you."

Lando stays with you for the rest of the evening, trying to distract you, which he clearly succeeds at with the miserable rounds of Uno in which he cheated at least twelve times. As you part with a tight, friendly hug, he presses a kiss to your cheek.

"You're still allowed to be mad at Charles. What he did is absolute bullshit," he says as he slips on his shoes. "But wait a little while before you move out. Maybe he'll come crawling back and apologize. Besides, for selfish reasons, I don't want you to move to the United States. Or Australia. Or anywhere else." He gives you one last squeeze. "If you need anything, call me. I'll be right over."

"I know," you smile, "and thanks again for the soups." 

He raises his index and middle fingers to his temple, a joking goodbye. "You're always welcome. See you around. Here in Monaco."

You close the door behind him and actually feel a lot better. Lando's presence was comforting and warm, and he's someone you definitely wouldn't want to miss as a friend. 

After brushing your teeth and combing your hair, you settle into bed. Your suitcase is still at your bedroom door, but the decision to move out isn't as set in stone as it was just a few hours ago. Perhaps you would look for a hotel for the time being to gain some distance. And then seek a conversation with Charles to have his behavior explained to you. 

Friends don't treat each other like that. And he's definitely going to have some work to do to straighten that out. But there needs to be distance between you to make it work, which is why you're looking for hotels in the area to check into tomorrow. 

A violent knock on the front door startles you. It's the middle of the night and you're not expecting anyone, so you carefully tiptoe towards the door. Maybe it's Lando, who left the rest of his soups here, or maybe he left his cell phone and can't call you to let you know he's coming by. Or maybe it's just a neighbor who got the wrong door. 

It could have been all of these possibilities. But it's none of them when you open the door. 

And you immediately regret that you didn't move out yesterday.

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc fanfic #formula one #charles leclerc fanfiction #f1 edit #charles leclerc cute #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #Charles Leclerc fluff #Charles Leclerc angst #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

[joelsgreys]

a safe haven l six

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: Joel opens up to you about a very traumatic loss; he makes a confession about his feelings towards you; you make a confession of your own and it leads to something more.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. fluff, infidelity, Joel and reader are having a full blown affair at this point, angst, talks of child loss (Sarah), lots of feelings come to the surface, two idiots realize they are in love. SMUT. oral sex (m receiving), size mention bc i will always be convinced our man is packing) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up pls), reader discovers she likes praise, creampie.

word count: 8.4k

August 2024

The next two and a half weeks that had passed by had done so without major incident, but things had taken a somewhat complicated turn.

You and Joel still manage to see one another a handful of times even with the exhausting amount of hours he’s been putting into his patrol duties, though it isn’t nearly as often as either of you wanted or would have preferred. But there was no other choice.

After numerous sightings of a group of potential raiders earlier on in the month, Tommy had no choice but to assign every last competent, able bodied patrol person, including himself, to work double shifts to ensure the safety and security of Jackson. He and Joel had come across the remnants of a campsite just about fifteen miles south of the settlement and they worried the group was hiding out, planning a violent, ambush attack on the community when it was least expected. Tommy had done his absolute best to keep the word from spreading throughout the commune to avoid causing a panic, but he found himself having to fess up when people went up to him and all but furiously demanded to know the truth—the real reason behind why their loved ones were now being asked to be on the other side of wall twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

Joel, who you’d come to learn is one of the sharpest and strongest shooters out of everybody in Jackson besides his younger brother, reluctantly took on the role of lead patrolman. He had been assigned an absurd amount of double shifts to work, including the overnight routes, making it almost impossible for you to see each other. You’d understood he had no choice but to comply, but still—that didn’t make the situation any easier to deal with. Both of you tried to make the very best of what little time you managed to get together, but it hadn’t been nearly enough. As if not being able to see Joel wasn’t agonizing enough for you, the fact that he was out on the other side of the wall scared the hell out of you. The only way to keep yourself from losing your goddamn mind was to distract yourself.

You did everything that you could to keep your mind off Joel being out there. Burying yourself deeply into your work helped for the most part.

Besides that, Joel had asked you, as a favor to him, to keep a watchful eye on Ellie in light of his absence. You’d spend most of the day with her in the stables, you would have lunch with her in the mess hall along with Dina, and in the evening, you would go home and make dinner early enough to fix an extra plate of food for her so she had a nutritious homemade meal to enjoy instead of two decades old canned ravioli. You would take it over to her place and drop it off before Luke came home from the clinic. Ellie waited until it was late in the evening and he was asleep to return the plate back to you, and the two of you would take a lengthy, late night stroll through the town, keeping each other company for a while before heading off to bed. She hadn’t seemed to be all too concerned about Joel, but then again, Ellie had known better than you did that he could take care of himself out there just fine. If anything, you spending so much time with her had been more for your benefit than hers, and you started to suspect that just like Joel had asked you to keep an eye on Ellie, he had also asked her to keep an eye on you too. After all, you had made it abundantly clear to him that you were nervous about him being out on patrol while there was a possible threat looming in the shadows.

By the time the middle of August came around, no additional traces of the group had been found—they seemed to have vanished into thin air, causing a wave of relief to sweep through the town. Tommy and Maria finally decided to ease up and end the double shift assignments, allowing every single patrolman and woman to return to their normally scheduled work rotations. Joel went back to his usual early morning and afternoon patrol hours, which meant that the both of you could resume your clandestine meetings out behind the barn underneath the stars.

“I missed you,” you say, sighing out contentedly as you lean back against him.

You and Joel are sitting out on the large, vacant patch of field behind the barn, his soft, green flannel blanket acting as a barrier between your bodies and the itchiness of the grass the animals would graze on during the day. You’re nestled in between his long legs, your back against his warm chest as the two of you share the delicious, ripe peach he’d brought along with him as a surprise for you.

“Mm, probably not as much as I was missin’ you, sweet girl,” Joel replies with a hum before taking a bite of the fruit. Noticing there’s only a couple bites of it left, he reaches his arm around and holds it out for you, his bulging bicep straining against the sleeve of his faded black t-shirt. “Here, darlin’. Want you to go on and have the rest.”

“These will be out of season in a couple of months.” Giving a sad little pout to nobody in particular, you sigh again and sink your teeth into the peach. Through a small mouthful, you realize, “Who knows when we’ll ever get peaches around here again.”

Joel’s lips meet the spot on your neck right behind your ear and you feel him grin. “S’alright with me. I’ve got my sweet, perfect little peach right here. And I’ve got her all year round.”

You playfully elbow him in his chest. After polishing off the rest of the peach, you lick off the pit and toss it out into the distance.

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to litter,” he teases.

“It’s biodegradable,” you retort with a tiny laugh as you leaned your head back against his shoulder and gaze up, admiring the stars that sprinkle the velvet night skies. “Or at least, I think it is. Come to think of it, I never paid much attention in life science when I was in FEDRA school. It was my least favorite subject.”

You gather your hair in your hand, bringing it over your shoulder to keep it out of Joel’s face. 

“Mm,” he whispers, licking his lips as his eyes fall to the delicate flesh of your exposed neck. He ghosts his mouth over your pulse point and his warm breath fans against your cool skin, prompting your eyes to flutter closed. “Just temptin’ me on purpose now, ain’t you, baby?”

“I would never do such a thing,” you object in an innocent tone, and he immediately clocks the smirk behind it. A comfortable silence falls over the both of you and while you’d normally welcome the peaceful, tranquil moment with him, tonight it feels impossible. You had gone so long without Joel over the last couple of weeks—at least, it had certainly felt long—and you realize one of things you’d missed most about him was the sound of his voice. “Ask me a question, Joel.”

“What kinda question can I ask, darlin’?”

Feeling brave, you offer, “You can ask me anything you want. No limits.”

Humming curiously to himself, he tries to think of something he hasn’t asked you before. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Really, Joel?” You snort, trying to mask your laughter as he rests his chin on your shoulder, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin as he presses his cheek against yours. “I just told you that you can ask me anything you want and that’s your question? What’s my favorite color?”

“Yeah,” he answers, simply. “I wanna know what it is.”

He turns his head, lifting it off your shoulder to brush a gentle kiss to your temple. Joel could not, for the life of him, even remember the last time he’d shared this kind of physical tenderness with anybody. Forehead kisses, holding your hand, all sorts of little tokens of affection he didn’t think he could still be capable of giving to someone came to him so naturally with you. You had brought out an entirely different side of him, one that had been buried beneath his rough exterior for well over two decades, and the part that Joel still can’t quite wrap his own head around is that you’d done it with such ease. He’d go as far as to say that you had done it without even trying.

“So?” Joel prompts you. “What is it?”

“It’s brown,” you answer. 

“Brown? Why brown?”

“Because. It’s earthy, it’s warm—and your eyes are brown,” you state, grinning to yourself as you feel his loud laugh rumble through his chest and against your back. “What about you? I mean that’s if Joel Miller even has a favorite color,” you giggle teasingly, placing a hand on one of his denim clad legs. You then add, “Actually, I’m kind of curious now. Do you have a favorite color, Joel?”

Joel hesitates, momentarily holding onto his answer.

“I do. It’s purple,” he finally responds after a brief bout of silence. “Purple’s my favorite color.”

“Purple,” you repeat after him, unable to mask the surprise in your tone. “Really?”

Joel chuckles. “What? That weird or somethin’?”

“Uh, sort of. For one, you just don’t strike me as the kind of guy who would have a favorite color in the first place—and even if you’d told me you did, I would have never in a million years guessed that it was purple,” you admit, sheepishly. You trace a small circle around his knee with your finger and curiously ask him, “Why is purple your favorite color?”

“‘Cause. That’s my daughter’s favorite color.”

You scoff playfully. “Come on, Joel. Ellie’s favorite color sure as hell isn’t purple. Her favorite color is green. But red’s a close second.”

When he speaks again, his voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him despite being in such close proximity. 

“I ain’t talkin’ about Ellie.”

At first, it doesn’t quite register, but after a moment of processing, the pieces click together in your mind. Joel has another daughter.

Your smile vanishes and you slowly turn around between his legs to face him. Looking at him with wide, shocked eyes, you utter, “What?”

“Her name was Sarah,” he confesses, softly. 

Was. 

Your throat dries at his use of past tense.

Because you know exactly what that means. 

Opening your mouth to speak, words fail you and you close it. You suddenly remember the way he would tap dance around certain details of his first life in Texas. Whenever he would speak about his life before the outbreak, he would be cautious, careful to watch himself and his words. You’d known Joel had been keeping something from you, something he wasn’t ready to disclose to you for one reason or another—but never would you have guessed that him having a daughter would be the secret he had been hiding.

By now, you’ve turned your body around and you kneel in front of him, sitting back onto your heels. Not wanting to push him too hard or too fast, you clasp your hands together in your lap and wait silently—patiently—for him to continue when he’s ready.

“Sarah’s favorite color was purple. She’d wear it all the time. Her backpack, her school supplies, they all had to be purple or she wouldn’t use them. When she was nine years old, she begged me to paint the walls of her bedroom purple. One day, I took her to Home Depot after school to look at all the different shades.” He laughs, musing, “Didn’t know there could be so goddamn many of them. Anyhow, I told her I’d think ‘bout it. I went back to the store the next day while she was at school, bought a couple cans of the lavender shade I knew she’d like the best and by the time she got home, I had it all painted for her,” he explains, a sadness glazing over the fondness of the memory. “She loved purple. It was the color of the t-shirt she was wearin’ the last time we were together on the night of the outbreak.”

Your heart sinks. “Joel, you don’t have to tell me—”

“S’alright, peach. I wanna tell you ‘bout her,” Joel assures you, reaching out for your hand and taking it in his own. “I trust you, baby. Trust you more than enough to tell you ‘bout Sarah.”

Nodding, you lace his fingers together with your own. 

“I was never married,” he starts to say, knowing whether or not he’d also had a wife before the world ended would be a question on your mind—that’s if it wasn’t already. “I was never with Sarah’s mom. I met her in high school and we’d been friends up through senior year of college. We started to date then, but after a year, we realized we weren’t a good fit together. We broke up and a couple months later, we found out she was pregnant with Sarah. Her mom and me, well we both made an agreement to co-parent her as best as we could. Just a few months shy of our daughter’s first birthday, she realized she couldn’t handle raisin’ a child at our age. I tried real hard to convince her to stick around and keep tryin’ but I couldn’t get her to stay. She bailed out on me, but the worst part of it was that she bailed out on Sarah.”

He stops for a moment and you give his hand a gentle, but firm, encouraging squeeze.

“As if bein’ a father to a baby girl didn’t scare the shit of me, being a single father made it all feel so much scarier, y’know? I was young, in my early twenties. I was always workin’ so damn much, tryin’ to build my construction business with Tommy. Now I had this tiny little person to take care of, and I honestly didn’t know how the fuck I was gonna do it.” Joel pauses, his sixth sense detecting that your knees have started hurting from the position you’re in. He closes his legs together and pulls you to sit on his lap. “It wasn’t easy, and I probably made a lot more mistakes than I’d like to admit. But somehow, I made it work and it turned out alright. Sarah was my best friend in the whole entire world. Hell, I loved her more than fuckin’ life itself. She could be a handful, but she was perfect in every single way. She was my sweet little butterfly, my ray of sunshine on even the darkest of days.”

Swallowing harshly, you ask, “What happened to her, Joel?”

Joel sighs, resting a hand on your bare thigh. His fingers skim the scalloped hem of your floral shorts. “It was the first night of the outbreak. We were tryin’ to get out of Austin. Me, Sarah, and Tommy. We didn’t know where the hell we were gonna go or what we were gonna do, but we just needed to get far away from the city. We got separated at one point when our pickup truck got into an awful wreck. I had Sarah in my arms ‘cause she couldn’t walk. She’d broken her ankle in the crash. Tommy told me to get her to the river where she’d be safer, said he’d find his way over there to meet us.”

Your heart begins to pound. Part of you almost doesn’t want to hear how his story is going to end—because in a way, you already know how it’s going to end. But if Joel is telling you about Sarah, it’s for a reason. He’s opening up to you, the way you’ve opened up to him. He’s sharing his heartbreaking loss because he trusts you—and Joel Miller doesn’t trust anyone that’s not his family.

Draping an arm around his shoulders, your fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck as you anxiously wait for him to recount the event that follows next, the event that will surely shatter your heart into pieces.

“The streets were crawlin’ with infected. One caught us in its sights and chased after us. Tried to dodge it through a buildin’ but it followed us, runnin’ us out into a field just a mile from the river. I didn’t think we were gonna make it—then, a soldier came outta nowhere and shot it dead. It felt like some kinda fuckin’ miracle. I thought we were lucky. I thought we were gonna get some help.” His voice grows hoarse, thickening with emotions he’s not too sure he can hold back this time. “I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was given the order by his command to kill us both, even though we weren’t sick. I tried tellin’ him over and over we weren’t infected, but it didn’t matter. He shot at us. He grazed me in my side, but Sarah—he got her. Got her multiple times. I was foolish enough to think it hadn’t been fatal. I tried gettin’ her up, begged Tommy to help me—but it was useless. Sarah died in my arms. Took her very last breath in some field outside of Austin.”

“God,” you whisper shakily, a sharp, painful ache shooting through your chest at the thought of him cradling his daughter’s lifeless body in his arms, her purple shirt soaked in crimson. “Joel, I don’t—I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Willing yourself to keep it together for his sake, you hold the back of his neck in your hand, fingers coaxing him to look up and meet your gaze.

“After that, I just didn’t see any point in carryin’ on anymore. I’d lost the most important thing in the fuckin’ world to me. I couldn’t see in the darkness now that my little ray of sunshine was gone. So, a couple nights later, I picked up my gun and tried to end my own life,” he confesses. Even though it’s been over twenty years, traces of shame still linger behind. “Put the barrel of a pistol to my temple. Told myself it was what I wanted to do and I pulled the trigger.”

Without thinking, you reach towards the scar on his right temple with your opposite hand, the one you’d noticed for the first time before he had kissed you in Ranger’s stall. You lightly brush your fingertips over the jagged, raised patch of skin. You’d wanted to ask him about it on several different occasions, but never had the courage to actually do it. Now that you know he’d gotten it from his own hand, it just makes the entire thing all that much more heart wrenching.

“M’sure you’ve guessed it by now, but I missed. I flinched and I missed. For twenty fuckin’ years, all I could do was wish I hadn’t missed. Spent a long time hatin’ myself for missin’ what should’ve been the easiest goddamn shot of my entire life. Then, Ellie came along.” Joel moves his hand, gingerly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. “And not long after her, I met you, sweet girl. The two of you came at me outta nowhere.” He can’t help but chuckle, remembering his first encounter with Ellie, the way she had flown at him with her switchblade clutched in hand only to end up thrown against the wall. “You both came outta left fuckin’ field and brought out sides of me I thought had been dead and buried for years now. You and her, you mean more to me than I can fuckin’ explain. You’re the most important things in the world to me now.”

Your breath catches in the back of your throat at his declaration. It’s not like you didn’t know Joel cared about you. Of course you know that. But the extent to which he did had been something of a mystery, at least up until this very moment.

“I didn’t know I could feel this way ‘bout anyone again,” Joel admits. He slides his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “Openin’ up my heart to Ellie, that was one thing. But openin’ it up to you? That’s been somethin’ else, peach. I don’t think you even realize the hold you’ve got over me and my heart. What really fuckin’ gets me is that you don’t even gotta try. All you gotta do is look at me with those eyes and give me that pretty smile of yours, and I’m fuckin’ done for. You’ve got me wrapped all the way around your little finger and then back again, baby. Y’need to know that I’d do just ‘bout fuckin’ anythin’ for you. You understand that?”

You stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“Joel,” you stammer his name, your nerve endings feeling like they’ve been lit on fire. “You really need to stop talking like that.”

“Why’s that?”

You don’t even think—you just blurt the words out before you can stop them.

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

The tables turn and it’s now Joel who is at a complete loss for words.

Embarrassed by your own admission, you begin to ramble nervously. “Look, I know it’s ridiculous. We haven’t known each other long, but I can’t help it. And maybe it’s for the best if you know where I stand and how I feel. You still have time to back out of this—”

Still holding your chin, Joel carefully brings your face toward his, silencing you by slotting his lips to yours. He moves to cup the side of your face in his palm, forgetting about any kind of softness as he greedily licks into your mouth. He’s kissed you plenty of times before and you thought you knew all of his kisses well enough by now, but you’d been wrong. This one is different from all the rest. His lips move against yours in a possessive manner, but not the kind of possessive you’re used with Luke. No, with Joel, it isn’t a possessive stemming from control and abuse, rather, it’s out of pure need, want, and desire. Even as his mouth devours yours, there’s still a sweet, loving tenderness to it.

“Joel,” you whimper against him. “I—”

You falter, unable to say those three words. There’s something holding you back—maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s knowing that once you say them, you can’t take them back. Not that you would. But it’s a big step, and you’re not quite ready to say it, even if it is how you feel.

And he feels the same.

He deepens the embrace.

I love you.

Joel might not be ready to say it either, but he hopes the way he’s holding you and swelling your lips with his puts your mind at ease and reassures you that you’re not the only one who’s falling.

You shift yourself in his lap, moving to straddle him, your legs on either side of his thighs as your mouths remain fused to one another. He reaches and grabs for every single part of you that he can, running his hands all over you from your shoulders down to your hips, dragging lower until they’re unabashedly cupping the delicious curves of your ass. You whimper in his mouth again and the moment your lips part, his tongue takes advantage, darting inside to start the heated, unhinged dance with your own.

You clutch at his shoulders, your fingers curling around tight around fistfuls of his t-shirt in an attempt, and a very desperate one at that, to keep yourself planted on the ground. You hold on trying to keep yourself tethered to planet earth, but with the way his searing hot mouth moves with yours in perfect unison, it’s impossible. You’re free falling without a safety net, and you don’t even care. 

Seating yourself completely on his lap, you feel the bulge of his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans and the wetness pools between your thighs.

Letting go of his shirt, you reach around him and bury your fingers in his curls, lightly tipping his head back as your tongue explores his mouth like it’s the first time all over again. Joel tastes like the sweet fruit you’d shared, a strange mix when combined with the mint from his toothpaste. But there’s something else he tastes like and you’ve tasted it several times before, however even after all this time, you still can’t figure out what it could be. It tastes like Joel. That’s the only way you can think of to describe it. It just tastes like Joel and it’s addicting and you want it on your lips for the rest of your life.

After a minute, you and Joel finally force yourselves apart, your lungs and his begging for oxygen. 

“Joel,” you choke his name between heavy pants for air.

“Baby.” He’s about as breathless as you are, possibly even more. “Baby, please. I’ve gotta have you,” he pleads, hands now splayed on the small of your back. “Please. I fuckin’ need you. Or else m’gonna lose my goddamn fuckin’ mind.”

“Barn,” you rasp out, releasing your grip on his hair. 

Confused, Joel’s eyebrows knit together. “Barn?”

“Barn,” you repeat as you climb off of him.

You’re unsteady—incredibly unsteady. Knees wobbling, legs trembling and feeling like they’re seconds away from giving out underneath you. But you hold a hand out to Joel, exhaling a tiny, labored grunt as you help him up off the ground. Grabbing his blanket, you give it a shake before taking his hand in yours and leading him around to the front of the barn. Dropping his hand, you use both of yours to slide one of the double doors open an inch or two and take a peek inside to make sure the coast is clear. You then slide the door open a bit further, just wide enough for you and Joel to slip inside. 

“Wait a minute,” he chuckles as he watches you slide the door closed. “How’d y’know it would be unlocked?”

“I didn’t know it would be unlocked. I was just hoping we’d get lucky,” you admit, beckoning him for him to follow you. “Come on.”

Through various cracks and gaps and open windows, enough moonlight filters into the barn, shining a decent amount of light into the structure—enough so that it’s not pitch black and you two are left stumbling around in complete darkness.

Joel glances around. The last time he’d been inside the barn was back in June for the summer party. He remembered it having been cleaned and cleared out for the event and now, two months later, it’s packed to the rafters with countless bales of hay. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised. But as he walks, piles of loose dried grass and herbs crunch underneath his boots and he remarks, “There’s fuckin’ hay everywhere, darlin’.”

“Um, yeah. What else do you keep in a barn?” you jeer lightly, earning yourself a small scoff from him. “Hey, at least they don’t keep sheep and other livestock in here, Joel. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

Joel snorts, masking his laughter at the thought of walking into a barn full of animals instead of an absurd amount of hay. “Yeah, guess that’s fair enough,” he concedes. “Might kill the mood if that were the case.”

You lead him over towards one of the far corners of the barn, your eyes falling to a large, almost bed sized pile of loose hay. Draping the blanket over it, you stand upright and then freeze, your body flooding with nerves once you realize what’s inevitably about to happen between you and Joel.

You hadn’t done anything with him since the night he’d pleasured you out on his front porch. Of course you wanted more, so much more, but that doesn’t make you any less nervous. You’re so much younger, hardly have any experience—you’ve only ever been with one man, and even then, it hardly counts. It’s been such a long time since you’d found sex something you wanted, something you enjoyed. Whenever Luke touches you, it makes your skin crawl, but when Joel Miller touches you?

It sets you ablaze, leaves you needing more of it. Of him.

Part of you wonders if your touch makes him feel the same. What if it doesn’t?

His arms wrap around your waist from behind and you exhale the breath you’d been holding shakily.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Joel murmurs softly into your hair, sensing your pensiveness. 

“I’m just really nervous,” you blurt out.

“S’okay,” he says, quietly. “M’kinda nervous too.”

You’re slightly taken aback. “Really? What are you nervous about?”

Joel rests his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve both crossed a lot of lines already, peach. But this one? S’gonna be the one we can’t come back from,” he tells you. “Might be what seals the deal between us, y’know?”

Slowly, you turn around to face him. “Yeah, I know,” you respond, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. “And I know I should care, but I don’t. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“S’wrong,” he agrees with a tight nod. “But I don’t care either, sweet girl.”

Before you can utter another word about it, Joel crashes his mouth onto yours. He snakes one of his arms around you and lifts the other, cupping the back of your neck as he ravages you with his lips and tongue, kissing you with such urgency, such desperation that it melts you into a whimpering mess in his arms. Your mind is hopelessly lost in a thick, cloudy haze—all you can focus on is breathing him into your lungs like he’s the air you need to stay alive. His hands fall down to the hem of your white camisole and his mouth abandons yours to pull it over your head. He discards it, tossing it over his shoulder somewhere behind him. He then pushes your shorts and underwear down your legs and you kick them off along with your shoes. You’re now standing before him completely naked.

Desperate to feel his skin against yours, you take the hem of his t-shirt and clumsily tug it over his head, eliciting a laugh from him. You throw it somewhere over his shoulder to join yours and your hands eagerly meet his warm, bare chest for the first time. Biting down on your bottom lip, your trembling fingertips brush over several bumps and rough, raised patches of skin that you know have to be his scars. He has so many, and all you want to do is kiss each and every single one of them, but Joel has other ideas. He pulls you into his arms, flush against his chest, and he holds you tightly.

More often than not, Joel feels as if you’re not real—worries that you’re just a perfect, flawless figment of his own imagination. He doesn’t know whether or not you’ve caught onto what he’s been doing, but he steals moments like these whenever he can, moments where he stands there and takes you into his arms and holds you without saying a word.

It’s his own way of reminding himself that not only are you real, but you’re real and you’re his. Joel doesn’t care about the fucking ring on your finger. He doesn’t care that you’re promised to another man. He doesn’t care that he can only hold you in secret, that he can’t walk next you down the streets of Jackson in broad daylight and hold your hand while doing so. He doesn’t get to share a roof or a bed with you and he doesn’t get to join you for dinner at the table every night—maybe this isn’t how he preferred things to be, but he just doesn’t care. 

It doesn’t matter to him.

Nothing matters to him except for one thing.

Your heart belongs to him. It bleeds with his name.

You’re his. You’re all fucking his, and only his, in all the ways that truly matter.

And he is yours. 

Joel chokes out a strained groan as you press your plush lips softly against his neck, your tongue swiping across his pulse point. You firmly suckle his flesh, hard enough to break the tiny blood vessels underneath his skin and once you’ve left your mark, you trail your lips down his neck, eliciting another strangled noise from him. You sweep them over his collarbone, then down the length of his chest, showing each scar you come across with the affection it deserves. Your teeth nip and scrape at the softness of his belly and you quickly discover that it’s one of your favorite parts of him. Lowering yourself to your knees, your nose skims over the trail of dark, coarse hair below his navel and your fingers suggestively skim the waistband of his jeans.

His eyes widen. “You ain’t gotta do that—”

“I already told you, Joel. I want to,” you assure him, your voice low, sexy, filled with a lust for him and only for him. You make yourself comfortable, a challenging feat since you’d overshot the blanket and are now kneeling directly on the itchy, dried grass. It doesn’t matter, though—you’re more than willing to deal with discomfort for him. You place a hand on his hip and peer up at him. Your eyes meet his in the milky white moonlight. “You made me feel good. Please, just let me do the same for you?”

The nod he gives you is so subtle, so quick, that you almost don’t catch it.

He’d grown tense beneath your touch. 

You can’t help but laugh softly—not at him, but at the fact that he doesn’t realize that pleasuring him isn’t a want for you, it’s a need.

Gently, you pat his hip. “Relax, honey,” you encourage him, surprised at how the pet name rolls off your tongue with such natural ease.

Your hands reach for the button of his jeans and you swiftly undo it, then tug at his zipper. You start pulling the denim down his legs. Joel helps you, kicking off his worn, black leather boots before stepping out of his jeans, kicking the article of clothing off to the side. Heart racing in anticipation, you slide his dark boxer briefs down his legs, but stop short, breath hitching the second you feast your eyes on his cock. You’ve felt him through his clothes before, knew he was well endowed, but you’re still shocked to see just how big he really is. The mere thought of his hard, thick length filling you up and stretching your cunt makes your entire body ache with need. You can’t be certain how he’ll fit, but truth be told, he could tear you in half and you would thank him for it. 

Joel draws in a quick, sharp breath when he feels your small hand wrap around his base. Just as fast as he’d breathed it in, it’s knocked back out of his lungs when your other hand joins in and you run your fingertips along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He twitches in your hands—you’ve hardly touched him, haven’t even put your mouth on him, and he’s already teetering on the edge.

“Christ, baby. You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, I hope y’know that,” Joel croaks, tilting his head back to look up at the rafters as he silently wills himself not to explode too soon. His hips involuntarily jerk forward as you lick his tip, collecting his leaking precome on your tongue before wrapping your soft lips around it. Another loud, ragged groan tears from the back of his throat as you take him in slowly, inch by inch, further into your warm, wet mouth. Your own moaning around him causes a vibrating sensation, making it harder for Joel to keep himself from spilling into your mouth.

“Fuck, peach,” he curses, feeling the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. He’s more than a mouthful for you, but you accept the challenge with eagerness and take him in further, gagging around him as drool dribbles down the sides of your chin. You, the same woman who just moments ago had said she was nervous about being intimate with him—whoever that woman had been, she was long fucking gone.

Joel’s eyes flit down and he sinks his teeth hard into his lower lip. He can see your silhouette as you work him with that pretty little mouth of yours. One glance is all he can handle before he’s squeezing his eyes shut, the pressure building in his lower abdomen and already dangerously close to reaching its peak. If Joel so much as looks at you again, he’ll come down your throat, and that’s not where he’s planning on finishing tonight.

You bob your head back and forth on his cock, your eyes watering each time he slips past the back of your throat—your cheeks hollow as you suck him greedily, and you alternate between that and stroking his long, thick shaft, your tongue swirling around his head.

Without opening his eyes, Joel reaches down with his hand and cradles the back of your head in his palm. The sounds that fill the barn are nothing short of obscene. His grunts and groans mixed together with the sounds of the moans you’d release in between your wet and sloppy slurping. He forces his eyes open and bravely takes another look at you, his heart slamming painfully against his sternum as you move your head faster, chasing his release as if you’re chasing your own.

“Fuck, baby—wait, stop. Need you to stop.” Joel’s hand leaves the back of your head and he cups your jaw, gently, but firmly, forcing you to release his cock from your mouth with an audible pop. “Ain’t gonna last much longer, not if you keep on like that.”

“Isn’t that the whole point?” you ask, smirking up at him as you wipe the mixture of his precome and your saliva away from your chin with the back of your hand.

Joel leans over and takes your arms, effortlessly yanking you up to your feet. His hand dives between your thighs to get a feel—to find whether you’re ready to take him or not. He slips two fingers between your soaked folds without so much as a warning, causing you to gasp out and grip his biceps, your fingernails digging into the firm muscle. Joel withdraws his hand from your cunt, admiring the way his digits come back coated with your slick. He looks at you, his eyes locking with yours as he lifts his hand to his mouth and slowly licks his fingers clean.

That alone nearly makes you come undone, almost makes you melt into a pathetic, whimpering mess at his feet. 

“Joel,” you say his name pleadingly. “Please.”

Sliding his fingers out of his mouth, he steps forwards and curls them around your wrist. “What is it, my sweet little peach? Hm? What do you want?”

“You. I want you,” you answer. You’re quick to correct yourself. “No, I need you. I fucking need you—I need you more than anything I’ve ever needed in my life, Joel.”

Leaning down, Joel skims the tip of his nose against your cheek before bringing it down along your jawline. “Where, darlin’?” he whispers huskily, sending a shiver up your spine. “Where do you need me, baby?”

Your mouth falls open slightly unable to say it. You don’t know why you’re suddenly shy, flustered as if you just hadn’t been down on your knees gagging around his cock.

“Tell me, peach,” he coaxes you gently with another low whisper. “Tell me where you need me. Tell me where you need my cock, sweetheart. Need to hear you say it.”

“Inside me.” Blazing heat floods your face. “I need you inside of me—I need you to fuck me. Please, Joel.”

“So polite ‘bout it, too,” he remarks. “What a good girl.”

Though he says it in a teasing manner, his praise nearly makes you collapse.

“You like that,” he realizes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Yeah, baby? Y’like it when I call you a good girl?”

“Fuck, I—yes, I do,” you confess.

“C’mere.” Joel wraps an arm around your waist, hand splayed over your back as he lowers you down onto the blanket. He follows suit. You both let out breathy laughs at the way your naked bodies sink down into the pile of hay. Propping himself up with his arm, Joel looks down at you, his smile fading as a serious expression crosses his features. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, finger grazing the silkiness of your cheek. “Y’sure ‘bout this, peach? Ain’t too late to stop.”

Smiling softly, you lift a hand to the side of his face, your fingers stroking his graying beard. “I’ve never been so sure about anything, Joel,” you promise him. “If you could take a peek into my mind, you would see how bad I want this, how bad I need this—how bad I need you. I don’t want to stop.” And you don’t just mean the sex. You don’t any of this to stop—the secret, late night meetings, the stolen kisses, the illicit affair. “I’m sure about this. I’m sure about you, Joel.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

Joel reaches down between your bodies, gripping his base, pumping his throbbing cock in his fist before lining himself up at your sopping entrance. Adrenaline courses through your veins—every nerve ending in your body is going up in flames. You spread your legs wider for him, hoping he’ll understand the nonverbal cue. He does. He begins to ease himself into your cunt and you hook a leg around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper. The barn fills with the sound of his grunt and your loud cry at the initial stretch. He sinks his cock further into you until he bottoms out and you cry out again, feeling a delicious burning sensation as he cradles his hips between your thighs.

“M’gonna need you to relax a little sweetheart,” he whispers gently, ceasing his movements to give your body a chance to adjust to him. Joel takes advantage of having you pinned underneath him with your head thrown back and his lips latch onto your neck, hungrily. He fervently kisses his way down the column of your throat, nips his way to your collarbone—but unlike you, he’s careful to do so without leaving any kind of mark behind. He would give anything to have the freedom to leave traces of his loving all over you. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment and the way he’s buried inside you to the hilt that brings out the primal in him, but Joel wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around Jackson covered in his love bites. He wants everyone to know he’s the one who’d left them behind, needs them to understand that you’re his. But that isn’t possible. Joel lifts his head from the hollow of your neck and nibbles lightly at your chin. “You alright, baby?”

Forcing your eyes open, you lift your head and bring yourself to look at him. At first, you feel discomfort, but after a minute, your body finally relaxes around him and it subsides. It’s replaced with the burning desire to feel more of him. The pretty glow coming in from outside the barn illuminates his face and you smile. “I’m better than alright. I’m perfect,” you assure him. You place a hand delicately on his chest, feeling his heart thrum hard against your fingertips. “This is perfect.”

Joel kisses the tip of your nose. He slides out of you slowly, then right back into you in an experimental thrust that brings your body off the blanket, your back arching in sheer pleasure. It’s such a deliciously tight fit, and he almost can’t believe how fucking good it feels to be sheathed in your taut heat. He drops his head, taking your breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardened nipple as he bucks his hips once more. He’s being careful. Too careful.

“Joel—I need you to move,” you gasp. You drag a hand down his chest and over his soft stomach, letting your fingernails rake lightly over his flushed skin. It’s warm to the touch, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Joel, please. Fuck me.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to tell him twice.

Joel releases the pebbled flesh from his mouth with a loud, lewd pop. He pulls his cock out of your dribbling pussy, then slams back into you with such force that he places a hand on the crown of your head, keeping you in place underneath him on the blanket. You wrap your own leg around him, locking your ankles together, your heels digging into the firm curve of his ass. You lift your hips just as he rolls his own right into them. The new angle gives Joel the opportunity to fuck you even deeper and he hits the sensitive, spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold onto him, moans you’ve never heard come out of your own mouth before ringing in your ears and in his. He starts picking up his pace.

“Baby.” He’s breathless and speaks between every snap of his hips. “Fuck, y’feel s’good—s’tight around me—”

“Don’t stop, Joel. God, please don’t fucking stop,” you plead him, your finger burying themselves in his hair. “Keep going, just like that—fuck, you feel so fucking good inside me—”

You bite down on your bottom lip, adoring how Joel squeezes his dark eyes shut each and every single time the head of his cock brushes that one particularly deep spot inside of you. Knowing that you and your body has this kind of an effect on him, it gives you a boost of confidence. You’ve spent the last couple of years allowing a pathetic excuse of a man—if one could even call him that—pick on you, say things about your body, and make you feel like your inability to conceive a child made you defective. Worthless, even. And here’s a real man, one who makes you feel beautiful with the way he talks to you, the way he kisses you, touches you, and fucks you. You’re not perfect by any means, but Joel Miller makes you feel what your own husband doesn’t.

He makes you feel like you’re enough. More than enough.

The barn fills with a combination of moaning, panting, and the sound of damp skin slapping against damp skin.

Glancing down at you, Joel shakes his head and warns, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, baby. M’so goddamn close.”

An unexpected wave of courage washes over you. Planting your hands firmly on his chest, you take him by complete surprise and slide out from underneath him. A small grunt escapes him as you push him onto his back. Amused, you can’t help but giggle at the shocked expression on his face as you guide him to lie down on the flannel blanket. Eager to see his reaction, you keep your eyes trained on his face as you straddle his lap. You grip the base of his cock in your hand and then slowly sink down onto him, your cunt greedily squeezing him as you slide down until you’re fully seated.

Joel’s jaw falls slack. It’s the most stunning sight he’s ever seen.

You, completely naked on top of him, your pouty lips plump and swollen from his kisses. Your smooth, supple skin glows in the moonlight shining through the open window behind you. All while every inch of Joel’s cock was buried deep inside of you, head nudging at your cervix. Eyes glimmering devilishly, the sexiest little smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Like what you see?”

He tries to speak, but he can’t.

You’ve rendered him speechless. 

Grabbing his hands in yours, you guide them to your hips. His blood roars in his ears and his fingers dig into the pillowy soft flesh, holding on as you begin to rock them back and forth. You throw your head back, your hair spilling over your shoulder. The friction of your clit against his pelvis heightens your pleasure. Joel had thought he would be the one to topple over the edge first, but he’d been wrong.

Eyes pinching shut, you start bouncing yourself on his cock, your desperation mounting. You feel the tension between your hips coiling back tightly, ready to snap forward.

“Fuck, Joel—I’m gonna—I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Fuckin’ come for me, baby,” Joel encourages you, his fingers digging even harder into your hips. One of his hands abandons your side and he reaches up and gently takes your slackened jaw in the palm of his hand. He coaxes you to look down at him. “Need you to be a good girl and look at me, peach,” he instructs you, slipping his thumb between your parted lips. “Need to see that pretty face of yours when you come all over my cock, sweetheart.”

“Oh fuck—fuckfuckfuck!”

Crying out, you unravel and fall apart all over him, the ecstasy blurring the edges of your vision. 

It doesn’t take Joel much longer to follow. He lets out a low, guttural growl, choking out a string of profanities as he slams you down onto his lap and holds you in place, spurts of warm come coating your velvet walls. Your pussy squeezes him, draining him of every last drop.

You collapse forward onto him in a sweaty, whimpering mess and he wraps his arms around you. With him still inside you, you both lay there and try to catch your breaths as the high slowly but surely begins to wear off.

After a few minutes, Joel pulls out of you and he shifts your bodies, moving you so you’re now laying beside him. Tucking you against his side, he slides his arm around your shoulders and pulls you even closer. His other hand finds one of yours and he takes it, bringing them both to rest on his chest.

“You alright?” he asks you, lacing his fingers together with yours.

“I’m great,” you answer him tiredly, prompting him to chuckle. “What about you?”

Joel strokes at your hair. “Never been better, sweet girl.”

You groan. “Joel, don’t do that,” you mumble into his shoulder. “You’re going to put me right to sleep.”

He laughs again. “We’ve still got a bit more time, y’know. If you’re tired, you can take a quick nap. I can wake you up in ‘bout an hour when it’s time to head home.”

“No, that’s okay,” you decline the offer, worried he would accidentally fall asleep too. “I really wish we could sleep together—I mean, actually sleep together. In an actual bed. Not having to worry about anything. Just like normal couples do.”

“Well, we ain’t exactly a normal couple, darlin’.”

“No, we’re definitely not,” you murmur. You don’t even realize how sad you’d sounded until you feel Joel give your shoulders a comforting squeeze. 

Neither of you say anything else about it as you spend the next hour laying there, tangled up in each other’s embrace, waiting until it was time to go your separate ways.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller angst #joel miller smut #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller series #joel miller story #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #fic: a safe haven #fic: ash

[shadowtriovibes]

pt. i: break a sweat

pt. ii: blood, sweat and tears || pt. iii: sweat it out || pt. iv: never let 'em see you sweat

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: E

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV sex, dubious safe sex methods, even more dubious interpretations of how the room of requirement works

Summary: sebastian makes the house quidditch team after training all summer. before his first match, you let him talk you into a bet over its outcome that will in all likelihood ruin your friendship. (merlin, you sure hope it does.)

"Speaking of which," you say, leaning out of the hug just enough to see Sebastian’s face. "What prize will you not be winning?" Sebastian lets his hands drop down to your hips as he murmurs, "I have something in mind." You force yourself not to get distracted. "Do tell." "If I win, I’d like to take you to the Room of Requirement after the game," he says, and the way he grips your sides through your skirt ensures you have no way of misunderstanding what he’s suggesting.

Seeing Sebastian for the first time since the end of your sixth year at Hogwarts is quite the shock.

You knew from his detailed letters that your dearest friend had spent the better part of his summer break training for Quidditch tryouts in the fall, frequently flying down to the Poidsear Coast to log hours and hours at their pitch.

Sometimes he would even bring Anne along with him when she was feeling well enough to ride on the back of his broom. He’d convince her to release a secondhand Snitch for him to track down, and while he hunted it down, she worked on the assignments your professors had set to help her prepare for her return to Hogwarts in the fall.

He’d even written to tell you that he’d never felt more confident on a broom, and that if he only got to have one last season on your house team before leaving school, he was determined to make the absolute most of it.

You knew all of this, and yet when you first see him in the Great Hall for the start-of-term feast, you nearly swoon like a Muggle schoolgirl at the sight of him.

The first thing you notice is that he’s taller. Even seated next to Anne at the Slytherin table, you can see his entire head whereas you can barely make out the top of his sister’s. Sebastian had never seemed that much bigger than his twin before, but things have clearly changed.

Then, you notice that his complexion has changed as well. He’s tan from spending all summer training in the sun, his button-down shirt suddenly looking so crisply white against his sun-kissed face.

His freckles, too – there are so many more.

But that could also just be because there’s simply more Sebastian now. His shoulders are broader, his chest wider, and even his hair has grown long enough to brush upwards into a less haphazard style (though certainly not as severe as Ominis’).

It’s as if your boyish Sebastian from the previous school year had quite suddenly become a grown man in just three short months, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of him.

It takes you a few minutes to adjust as you slide into a seat across from him next to Ominis, and based on the look on Anne’s face, she at least knows what’s got you so flustered.

During a lull in conversation about Anne’s return, you tell Sebastian, “You’re looking fit.”

You hope you can casually get it out of the way, and that no one will dwell on it.

“Am I?” he asks with an easy smile.

“I mean physically,” you insist, remaining one step ahead of him. “I nearly mistook you for one of the Beaters for the Magpies.”

“Sebastian could never be a Beater,” Anne interjects. “He’s too much of a show-off to be anything but the Seeker.”

“I’ll be whatever the team needs me to be,” he insists. “I practiced for all four positions this summer, so wherever they want to slot me in is fine.”

“Silly Sebastian,” Violet McDowell calls out from a few seats down, a wicked grin on her face. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that there are many more positions than just four?”

Your entire end of the table bursts into laughter while Sebastian simply flashes a wicked grin, and you think about using your ancient magic to hurl one of the stacked platters of food in front of you at Violet’s head. (Or maybe you should simply toss her out into the courtyard.)

“Is this how it’s going to be this year?” Anne sighs. “When I left, Sebastian was just an awkward boy with his nose always buried in a book, and now the girls are lusting after him.”

“I’m not thrilled about it either,” Ominis agrees. “He had a big enough head before he was attractive.”

“I think it’s excellent,” Sebastian laughs. “It’s about time everyone realized that I’m the perfect man, and all it took was a little bit of Quidditch practice and one last growth spurt.”

“‘All it took,’” Anne mumbles at the same time Ominis exclaims, “‘Perfect man?!’”

While both his sister and best friend take turns putting dents in Sebastian’s inflated ego, he takes it in stride and sneakily winks at you from across the table when he catches you silently observing, your gaze firmly settled on the sharp line of his jaw.

Sebastian makes a mental note of the fact that you immediately go red. Even if no one else notices, he certainly does.

—

Two weeks later, you and Anne link arms with Ominis to walk down with him to the Quidditch pitch to watch the Slytherin team tryouts.

“Now that I’ve got a brilliant witch on each arm, I suppose I won’t be needing my wand as often to get around,” he teases.

“Please, I know a thing or two about that wand of yours,” Anne replies. “Last year I spent a full month reading books on wandcraft that Sebastian brought me from the library. If I had to guess, I think you can probably ‘see’ more clearly than either of us can. It’s powerful.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Ominis demurs. “I’m just naturally perceptive.”

Once you arrive at the pitch, the three of you take seats along the practice bleachers with a few of your housemates, who chat excitedly when the Slytherin hopefuls begin to take the field.

You spot Sebastian quickly, even among nearly two dozen others in green practice uniforms circling for warmups on their brooms. Compared to how big he’d looked at the start of term in just his school robes, he’s huge now – equipped with pads across his shoulders, forearms and shins that accentuate his muscular form.

He’d declined a helmet, of course, because despite his newfound bulk he’s still the same exasperatingly headstrong boy you’ve nurtured a crush on for nearly your entire school career.

“Between us, what do you think his chances are of making the team?” you ask Anne.

“Truthfully?” she smirks. “I think he’ll have his pick of positions, unless Imelda wants to humble him on purpose.”

“Which one would be humbling?” you ask, amused.

“Probably Chaser,” she muses. “He’d be an excellent Chaser, of course, but it’s his least favorite.”

“I’ll bet he becomes a Beater,” Ominis offers. “Without the Dark Arts, I’d like him to have some sort of outlet for his intensity.”

“Fine, then I’ll say… Keeper,” you say, smiling to yourself at your private joke that only Sebastian would appreciate. “Because that way he’ll get to stay in one place the whole game and know that everyone’s eyes are on him.”

—

Shortly after tryouts wrap up, Imelda sequesters herself in the girls’ dorm to put together her official roster and the majority of Slytherin’s upperclassmen start passing around Butterbeers while they settle in to await her decision.

Sebastian is inarguably the center of attention, casually leaning against a table in the corner with Anne at his side. A flock of fifth-year girls crowds around him to listen intently as he talks about the impressive diving save he’d made, capturing the Snitch just feet from the ground.

“He’s going to be insufferable now,” Ominis groans while the two of you watch from across the room. “There’s barely enough room for his ego in this friendship as it is.”

“Come now, we can keep him in check,” you laugh. “Especially with Anne here.”

“It’s really good to have her back,” Ominis agrees softly, smiling to himself when he hears Anne’s voice through the noise, telling Sebastian’s fan club how he’d attempted a similar save over the summer and ended up crashing into a derelict poacher camp.

Huh.

However, before you can spend too much more time thinking about Ominis and Anne, you hear the noise in the room spike as Imelda saunters down the stairs, a rolled-up piece of parchment in her hand.

“Who’s ready to meet this year’s Slytherin Quidditch team?” she calls out, and the entire room bursts into excited cheers.

She starts to read off from her list, allowing brief pauses for applause after each name. You and Ominis snake through the common room to stand by Sebastian. He seems to be perfectly calm, but by now you can recognize some telltale tension lingering in his jaw.

Anne holds one of his hands to reassure him, swaying a bit nervously herself.

While Imelda works her way down the list, the four of you learn that hasn’t been named Slytherin’s Keeper. He’s not a Beater either, nor is he ultimately a Chaser.

“Lastly, your newest Seeker,” Imelda teases as she reaches the end of the list. “...It’s obviously Sallow!”

Sebastian beams brilliantly while Anne pulls him into a tight hug, and Ominis smiles and murmurs his congratulations to his friend, assuring him he always knew he’d make the team.

There are several other girls quick to offer their congratulations as well, but you wait for the crowd around him to thin out and for Anne to escort Ominis to get more Butterbeers before you sidle up next to Sebastian and nudge your shoulder against his.

“Excellent work, Bash,” you murmur. “You put on quite a show at tryouts.”

“Only because you were watching,” he flirts back, and you roll your eyes fondly.

Since the start of term, he’s been relentless with his play-flirting. You resist it as much as you can, but it always makes your heart race when he calls you “love,” or offers to carry your books for you, or even charms little notes poking fun at your classmates into tiny birds that gracefully land on your desk during classes.

(You don’t have the heart to ask him to knock it off, because even though you know he doesn’t mean it, it still feels nice to be the center of his attention.)

“Then I’ll have to come to see you start in next week’s match,” you offer. “Especially if you only play that well when I’m watching.”

“You can be my good luck charm,” he jokes. “Felix Felicis is prohibited, but you’re not.”

“That was awful,” you laugh, but Sebastian just grins.

“Tell you what,” he says after a moment. “We should make a bet on it.”

“A bet?” you ask. “On what, that you’ll win?”

He shakes his head. “Too easy, we’re playing Ravenclaw, we’ll obviously win. I mean something more challenging.”

“You’re clearly confident,” you tell him. “What are your terms?”

He considers his offer for a moment and then says, “I’ll bet that I can catch the Snitch in under thirty minutes. I’ll even let you be the official timekeeper, since I’ll be a bit preoccupied.”

“Under thirty?” you ask skeptically. “That’s nearly professional, Sebastian. Ominis told me most games last at least an hour.”

“I’ve been practicing all summer,” he insists. “Anne would release a Snitch and I’d even give it a five-minute head start, but I never let one get further away from me than the far side of Marunweem Lake.”

“Careful, Sebastian, you sound quite cocky,” you murmur, and you think you see Sebastian’s gaze dip down to your mouth for a split second.

“I am,” he agrees. “In fact, I’ll even let you pick your prize first, for if you win.”

“Alright,” you laugh. “When I win, I want… for you to write my History of Magic assignments for the next month.

“That’s it?” he scoffs. “You could have anything and you want me to write your essays?”

“I didn’t start studying magic with the rest of you lot, and I don’t know a lot of the foundational things that Binns wants us to reference,” you remind him. “You know your history much better than I do, and I need to bump my ‘Acceptable’ up to ‘Exceeds Expectations’ by the time N.E.W.T.s roll around.”

“Love, I would’ve done them for you anyway,” Sebastian says dismissively, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning at the nickname. “Pick something fun.”

“Fine,” you reply. “I want…”

You consider your options for a moment, trying to think of something that isn’t either obscene or pathetic. Finally, you have an idea.

“There is one thing I’ve been thinking about,” you tell him, a secret smile on your lips.

Sebastian perks up, leaning in closer. “Go on then.”

“I want you to help me set up Anne and Ominis,” you say carefully, watching him for any signs that he’s about to blow up.

He just blinks at you, bewildered. “What.”

“I think they would be a lovely couple,” you croon. “And I know she’s your sister and you’re, y’know...”

“I’m what?” he demands.

“You’re very protective of her,” you say tactfully. “But we’re all adults now, and I think they really understand each other. I want you to help me convince them that they should give it a chance.”

Sebastian is quiet for several long moments.

“Well,” he finally murmurs. “I would prefer it if Anne never dated anyone so I wouldn’t have any more reasons to worry about her, but I suppose if she must, Ominis is a good man.”

You shout excitedly and wrap your arms around his impossibly broad shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. He easily allows it, fondly pressing his nose to your hair.

“I suppose it doesn’t really matter though, since you won’t win and I’ll never have to aid you in your scheming,” he murmurs against your temple.

“Speaking of which,” you say, leaning out of the hug just enough to see Sebastian’s face. “What prize will you not be winning?”

Sebastian lets his hands drop down to your hips as he murmurs, “I have something in mind.”

You force yourself not to get distracted. “Do tell.”

“If I win, I’d like to take you to the Room of Requirement after the game,” he says, and the way he grips your sides through your skirt ensures you have no way of misunderstanding what he’s suggesting.

“O-oh?” you ask softly, squirming a little in his grasp. “Just me?”

“Just you,” he confirms.

His eyes are dark, and despite the cacophony of the room around you both, he’s focused solely on you.

“And what would we be doing in the Room of Requirement?” you ask softly.

He doesn’t even dignify your question with a response. Instead, he deliberately drags his thumbs across your hips, raking his gaze down your body and back up with a pointed look.

“You mean it?” you ask him quietly. “You aren’t just teasing like earlier?”

“When was I teasing?” Sebastian asks, amused.

“This whole time,” you insist, fidgeting nervously with the laces at the front of his Quidditch shirt. “All the flirting, all this back-and-forth… You’re just winding me up.”

“I’m not,” he says quietly. “I thought about you all summer, love. I missed you like mad, and I sincerely want you.”

Merlin.

Some bold part of you steps a little closer so you can lean in close to his ear and ask, “Are you sure we shouldn’t just go to the Room of Requirement right now?”

You hear Sebastian swallow and exhale sharply.

“N-not now,” he answers. “After the match. I just…”

He doesn’t really have the words to articulate it, but he wants to earn your affection. He has to prove he’s good enough first, that you aren’t making a mistake by letting him finally force your close friendship into something more.

“Alright,” you acquiesce, gently brushing your lips against his cheekbone. “Just don’t get too distracted and fall off your broom, because I actually want you to win.”

“The match or the bet?” he asks in a low voice.

You just take a step back with a teasing grin, and before you disappear into the crowd to find your friends, you murmur, “Wouldn’t you like to know, Sallow.”

—

It’s so many flights of stairs up to the Room of Requirement. You almost feel bad for Sebastian, but not enough to stop relentlessly tugging him up countless flights in the quiet Astronomy Tower.

He must be exhausted already, you assume. While the match itself had only lasted twenty-seven minutes and forty seconds, he spent nearly all of them racing around the pitch alongside Ravenclaw’s Seeker, eyes trained on any flash of light that shimmered like gold.

He’d even taken a Bludger to his right thigh. You’d felt like you were going to be sick just watching it collide with him, but he’d merely dropped a few feet with a wince and sped off again.

Not even a damn Bludger could knock him off his broom.

(As soon as your nausea had dissipated, you’d felt another dizzying wave of sensation take over slightly south of your stomach.)

Just as he’d promised, he quickly caught up with the Snitch near the base of the Hufflepuff student section, landing not-so-neatly in the muddy grass with one arm thrown up in the air. He was evidently clutching the struggling Snitch and beaming so hugely you could see it from your spot in the stands fifty feet in the air.

As soon as Madam Kogawa blew her whistle, the Slytherins had begun to move en masse toward the stairs, preparing to turn their common room into the official site of the year’s first not-so-clandestine party.

You, however, snuck away from the group and lingered outside the team’s changing area. Inside, you could hear raised voices.

“Imelda, you don’t understand,” Sebastian was whining. “I need to go now.”

“There’s a way we do things here, Sallow,” she had argued “I’m the captain, and if I say we’re going to discuss the game before anyone leaves, you stay.”

Sebastian had a few choice words to say to that but ultimately relented, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly while you leaned against one of the canvas walls that lined the interior channels of the pitch. Ultimately, it only took about ten minutes to discuss how everyone could improve – and Imelda’s only suggestion for Sebastian had been to try to find a dryer patch of grass on which to land next time.

Seconds later, he’d burst through the door and started to take off toward the castle.

“Bash!” you called out. “Not so fast.”

When he turned and spotted you, his face lit up.

“You waited for me,” he breathed.

“Of course I did,” you said. “I believe you’ve won a prize, and the nature of it is time-sensitive.”

He looked like an utter rake with that crooked smile on his lips. He was still in his uniform head to toe, his hair even messier than usual thanks to his helmet. He’d even kept his pads on, so when he reached out to take your hand, you felt impossibly small next to him.

“Shall we?” he asks, and then the two of you were off.

By the time you reach the Room and ensure no house elves are present, you’re both out of breath and panting.

“Come here,” you whine, throwing your arms around his shoulders and messily kissing along his jawline.

“W-wait,” he stammers. “Let me get these pads off, and–”

He cuts himself off, making a face.

“I need to clean up,” he tells you, suddenly self-conscious. “I must look like hell.”

“You look obscene,” you reply, dragging your hands down his chest pads. “Which is obviously a compliment.”

He wraps his hands around your wrists to stop you from attempting to undo the laces at the front of his trousers. “Just – just let me clean off first, the prefects’ bathroom isn’t far and I got the password off of Weasley.”

“No, don’t leave,” you whine, and Sebastian is merely a man, he can’t resist the girl he’s been in love with for years when she’s begging him to take his pants off.

“I must smell foul,” he laughs. “You’re – you’re seriously okay with this?”

“Look where we are, Sebastian,” you croon, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his neck. “Just imagine what you need.”

For your part, you imagine a plush armchair where you can wrangle Sebastian into finally taking a seat, and one quickly spins to life just behind him. You take advantage of his distraction to shove him backwards toward it and climb astride lap.

“It’s the Room of Requirement,” you tease him, straddling his thighs and dragging your nose along his cheek so he’ll tip his head back for you. “If you require something, the Room provides.”

“I require a bath,” he drawls, cursing quietly when you gently bite just over his pulse point. “Quickly, please, Room.”

Sebastian waits patiently while you eagerly strip him of his pads, but the Room doesn’t change.

“I thought you said you’ve taken baths here,” he points out skeptically. “In a huge basin, like the prefects have.”

“I have,” you insist, frowning. “I don’t know why it’s not…”

Then you trail off, your realization making you go red.

“Go on, love,” Sebastian murmurs, sliding a hand up the back of your thigh to lazily palm at your ass underneath your skirt. “I know that face, you’ve figured it out. What’s the problem?”

“W-well, it’s my Room,” you tell him sheepishly. “So it, um… I suppose it defaults to what I require.”

“And what you require,” Sebastian says slowly, “is for me to not take a bath?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed.

“I… I suppose the Room must have deduced that I – I like you like this,” you whisper, dragging your hands across his rumpled Quidditch shirt. “And I don’t need to wait for you to clean off.”

“You don’t?” Sebastian asks, his eyes now impossibly dark. “You’d let me touch you just like this? I’m a mess, I’m covered in sweat and mud and probably some blood, even.”

“Don’t care,” you breathe, sliding your hands underneath the hem of his shirt. “I want you now, Sebastian, exactly like this.”

He says some absolutely filthy words under his breath, sitting back so he can strip off his filthy uniform shirt. You can’t get your hands on his body fast enough, hurriedly familiarizing yourself with his sculpted core, broad chest, and strong shoulders.

He’s less of a mess underneath where his shirt had lain, but his skin is still warm and damp with sweat from the match. You want to put your mouth all over him, everywhere – and there’s so much of him to explore.

“I couldn’t believe it when I first saw you like this,” you confess to him. “You’ve gotten bigger since last spring, and so handsome… how did you become a man in just one summer?”

“You think I’m the only one who changed this summer?” he asks with a low voice. “Look at you.”

“What about me?” you ask dumbly.

His hands go straight for your chest, roughly tugging open your uniform shirt with no regard for the longevity of its buttons.

“Here,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your breasts through your thin brassiere. “I can assure you that I noticed where you’ve grown bigger.”

You gasp softly as he tugs down on the cups of your bra until he can lean in and press his mouth to your skin, sucking on one of your nipples and then the other.

“And here,” he murmurs into your chest, his hands returning to the backs of your thighs and sliding up your ass. “You have all these curves now, love, and they’re driving me mad.”

“Sebastian,” you whimper. “Take off my clothes.”

He helps you wrestle your skirt up over your head and tosses it recklessly as far as he can. When you’re left in nothing but your undergarments, Sebastian wraps one strong arm around your lower back and hooks the other below your hips, easily standing up from the armchair to walk you over to the bed you’d hastily imagined into existence.

Once he has you on your back, he tugs down your last remaining garment and leaves you bare and exposed to him, breathless and flushed all over.

“Your turn,” you remind him, even though part of you wishes he could leave the uniform pants on (despite the impracticality).

Once he manages to peel off the last of his clothes, he settles on his knees between your legs and skims a hand up your body, from the curve of your hip all the way up to your cheek.

“Is this too fast?” he asks you softly. “Did I ask too much?”

Your heart aches. Sebastian always stuns you with his sincerity when you least expect it.

You turn your head to kiss his palm and murmur, “No, love.”

His shoulders drop a little, the last of the tension he’d been carrying all week draining from his body. He wants, he always wants so damn badly and he would never forgive himself if he marred your first time with each other by rushing you.

“Can I touch you?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“Please,” you whine, letting your knees fall wide.

(Whether or not the other has ever done this before is still a mystery to you both, and it’s not something you’ll discuss until afterward. But right now, it’s of no importance to you.)

For a while, Sebastian’s hands roam your body without an agenda, acquainting himself with your breasts, your hips, the insides of your thighs. You moan softly when he drags his thumb along your slit, spreading your wetness around until he can easily rub slow circles over your clit.

“How do you feel?” he asks you.

“Good,” you gasp. “So good, Sebastian, like that.”

“Do you want more?” he offers, and you frantically nod, one of your hands fisting the pillow behind your head.

He carefully presses one long finger inside you, glancing between your face and your entrance to make sure you’re comfortable the entire time. One finger quickly becomes two, and when two nearly becomes three, you have to pause and take a breath.

“Enough,” you pant. “That’s enough.”

“Are you sure?” he asks you.

You reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, giving him a few slow strokes while he leaks precum onto your hand and groans helplessly.

“I want you,” you insist. “I’ve wanted you.”

“R-right, yeah,” he agrees, trying to clear his head and focus on the task at hand. “Enough.”

He gently nudges your hand away so he can guide himself inside you, one hand wrapped around himself and the other gently pressing on your inner thigh to keep you still for him.

Underneath Sebastian like this, pinned to the mattress by his hips and hands, he completely overtakes your senses. He’s all you can see, all you can touch — you even taste and smell him.

Masculine sweat. Dark brown eyes. Crisp autumn air. The curve of his collarbone where it meets his shoulder. Woodsmoke. A million tiny freckles. Metallic blood from a split lip. Flashes of copper in his messy curls. Singed pine needles.

Sebastian groans low in his throat as he presses in, his hair falling into his eyes before he frantically brushes it away so he can see you take him for the first time.

Once he’s fully seated inside you, he bends down and presses his forehead against yours.

“Tell me,” he begs, his hand curling gently around the back of your neck to hold you close.

“Tell you what?” you whisper, your lips brushing against his with every syllable.

“Tell me that it feels like this for you,” he practically breathes into you. “It feels like you’re — you’re everywhere, like you’re all there is.”

“Sebastian,” you whimper, and his hips snap against yours.

“Say it,” he growls. “Please.”

“You’re all there is,” you gasp. “You’re all mine, Bash.”

He makes a sound like you’ve sucker-punched him, messily kissing wherever he can get his mouth on you – your cheek, your jaw, your lips. All the while he’s fucking you open with relentless, eager thrusts.

He’s not going to last long, but you don’t expect him to. You just want him to feel good – the two of you have already wasted enough time not doing this, so why delay satisfaction?

You wrap your legs around his hips to hold him against you, rocking your own hips upward to meet him and coax him closer to the edge.

“I’m going to come,” he grits out, grinding into you desperately the closer he gets to his climax. “Can I finish inside?”

“N-no,” you whimper. There’s a potion you can drink to make it safe that takes an entire week to brew, and the batch that’s currently bubbling away at your potions station across the Room isn’t quite ready yet.

“Where?” he begs.

“Anywhere else, wherever you want,” you promise him, your mind quickly tossing out mental images of him spilling himself across your breasts, into your mouth, on the curve of your back.

He pulls out of you with a reluctant moan and kneels between your open thighs, wrapping a hand around his cock to finish himself off. You watch his eyes while he takes you in, seemingly torn between meeting your gaze and staring transfixed at your fingers between your thighs as you get closer to finishing yourself.

“Next time, love,” you murmur softly. “The next time you fuck me you can finish in me, I’ll take it all.”

“Promise?” he asks breathlessly, still an incorrigible flirt even when he’s seconds away from his orgasm.

“Promise,” you whine, spreading your legs a little wider when you catch his gaze lingering again.

You’re so close, desperately rolling your hips against your own hand until you tip over the edge, the rush of your release arching your back before you collapse lazily against the bed.

He shuffles forward and groans your name just before he spills, leaving a warm, wet mess all over your stomach and between your hips. You feel properly claimed – especially when he flops down next to you and immediately tugs you against his chest, unbothered by his release smearing between your bodies.

“You’re amazing,” he breathes into your hair. “Merlin, I love you.”

“You love me?” you whisper against his collarbone.

“Enduringly,” he says.

You rest your cheek against his chest and listen to his racing heartbeat for a few moments before you tell him, “I love you too, you know.”

Just then, the Room starts to rumble.

“What’s going on?” Sebastian asks, urgently peering around for his wand.

He quickly settles and even laughs under his breath when he sees the Room shifting around the two of you to provide a spacious, sunken bathtub in the middle of the room, complete with a luxurious amount of taps that undoubtedly offer an array of bubbles, salts and soaps.

“Oh, now you want to let me clean myself up?” Sebastian drawls. “After you’ve completely worn me out, hmm?”

“It’s more for me,” you giggle. “I can’t possibly sleep like this, but you’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

As if Sebastian would ever pass up the chance to feel you up in the water.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #my fic #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x reader #sebastian x mc #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #ominis gaunt x anne sallow #(it's subtle but it's there) #unbeta'd we die like men #how do we feel about “bash” as a nickname because it's my favorite 🥹

[ijustreallylovethem]

break up with him

i had this idea on my drive home earlier and i’m not entirely sure i like it but… it’s postable. let me know what you guys think!

luke hughes x reader

words: 2,401

masterlist

“hello?”

“hey, sorry it’s late but-“

“you know i’ll always answer your calls.” luke smiled at your reminder. very rarely had you ever missed one of his calls, because he knew your schedule almost better than his own. if he was calling during class or work, you knew it was serious. and any other time, well you would never pass up the opportunity to talk to your best friend.

“i know.”

“so what’s up? jack annoying you again and you need me to yell at him?” you honestly weren’t sure how the two had been able to live together for the past year with as much as they squabbled. in the two weeks since they had been back in michigan, you had already broken up more arguments than you could count.

“noooooo. why did i call you?” he asked the question more to himself, causing you to giggle.

“lukey, you been drinking?” you heard him scoff into the phone, as if that was a ludacris idea.

“me? drinking? absolutely not!” however, you only had to stay silent for a moment before he was telling the truth. “okay, maybe i’ve had a couple beers.”

“you know it’s a tuesday, right?” you teased.

“well, jacks the one that pulled them out of the fridge so you can take that up with him.” you rolled your eyes, picturing what luke was telling you exactly.

“anyway, you just miss me so much you had to call me? you just saw me a couple of hours ago.”

“i always miss you when you’re gone,” he said, maybe a bit to sincerely. your lips formed a pout, and you were about to open your mouth to speak but luke continued. “but no, i had a reason for calling you… what was it?”

“i don’t know, moose. i’m not in your mind.” you could hear jack yelling something faintly and luke gasped.

“oh! we were listening to music and it started playing that brad paisley song that you always refuse to listen to because it makes you cry.” jack spoke in the background again and then luke clicked his tongue. “right, two people fell in love.”

“and you called to tell me because… you want me to think about it and cry?”

“nooooooo. i called because it made me think about you and then i wanted to talk to you.”

“so you do miss me. that’s what i’m hearing.” you smile, loving how attached your best friend could be sometimes. you understood where he was coming from though. you had been attached at the hip since he moved to michigan and now you lived in two different states. now that he was back for the summer, you had been spending almost all of your time together catching up. the only reason you hadn’t stayed over there tonight was because of your boyfriend, peyton.

you and peyton had met in class at the beginning of the semester, but you had only been together for about four months. luckily, he understood how important luke was to you and had no problem with him. you had been worried at the beginning of your relationship that your friendship with luke would be seen as a problem, as you had heard many horror stories about boyfriends and guy best friends before. but the two had formally met the second day luke was back in michigan and seemed to have no problems with each other. since you had been spending so much time with luke, peyton had asked if you could both spend a night in together, and you were happy to grant his request.

“you know i’d be over there right now if i was allowed to be,” luke responded, as if it were obvious. you both knew it was though. you were always inseparable during the summer, and everyone only expected it to be worse this year since you had spent so long apart.

“don’t worry, i know.”

“speaking of which, where is he?”

“peyton? he went to go pickup food so we didn’t have to pay for delivery.” luke gasped dramatically, and you could practically picture the sarcastic hand he had brought up to his chest.

“you’re telling me he requested you all to himself and then left you?” you couldn’t help but giggle.

“he did, unfortunately. but he’ll be back soon.” luke hummed, but other than that, the line was silent for a few moments.

“hey y/n, can i ask you something?” his tone had turned serious, but you knew that didn’t automatically mean that his question would follow suit.

“always, lukey.” he didn’t ask right away, which had you believing whatever he was about to say was more serious than you originally thought. he took a deep breath and then rushed the words out.

“do you love him?” the question took you by surprise, and you weren’t sure how to answer.

“what?”

“because, you talk about him, you tell me things he does for you and such, but i feel like you don’t always sound… i don’t know, excited, i guess. like he’s there but you don’t truly care that he is.”

you’re stunned by his words. so stunned that you can only look down at your lap and pick at the little pills on your shorts. luke knows you well, and even though he can’t see you, he realizes you’re not going to answer.

“sorry, maybe i shouldn’t have asked. but i think the fact that you can’t tell me yes means that the answer is no.”

deep down, you know he’s right. you know that your relationship with peyton isn’t bad, but it isn’t amazing either. he’s a great guy, a good boyfriend, but something just wasn’t clicking for you. you had hoped that something would change as time went on, but you had heard of the three month rule and that time had come and gone. nothing.

“y/n?”

“he’s a good guy, luke.” you felt a tear run down your cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. “i hate that i don’t feel more toward him. he’s so amazing to me but-“

“but you don’t love him.” you shake your head, even though he can’t see you.

“no.” you reach up to wipe away another tear, taking a breath to steady yourself. “i don’t know why, but i don’t. no matter how much i probably should. which really sucks, because i don’t want to hurt him.”

“you’ll just hurt him worse by staying with him,”luke reasoned, and you knew he was right. you couldn’t lie to peyton about loving him and you couldn’t keep giving him false hope by hoping you somehow fell in love with him in the future.

“i know,” you whispered. you heard the door to your apartment open and close and you sighed silently. “i gotta go.”

“he’s back?”

“yeah, bye lukey.”

peyton looked at you concerned as he set the bag of take out on the coffee table in front of you. he slipped off his shoes and sat down, opening his arms to you.

“everything okay?” you just pulled your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around yourself. peyton was quick to readjust when he realized you wouldn’t be moving closer to him. “what’s wrong?”

“um, i just… i finally am admitting some things that i didn’t want to admit for the past few weeks.” you closed your eyes and took a breath, trying to figure out how to break the news in the easiest way possible.

“you’re breaking up with me.” your eyes flew open, your jaw dropped slightly as well as you looked at him bewildered.

“how-“

“i really like you, y/n. which means i did my best to learn you. and it didn’t take me long to figure out that you like me too, but not as much. and not in the same way. but i don’t think i wanted to admit it to myself either.”

“peyton, i am so sorry-“

“don’t be sorry.” you had no clue how he was able to offer you a kind smile right now, but he was. he even reached out and gently rubbed your arm, trying to give you as much comfort as you would let him. “it’s not your fault you don’t love me. it’s okay.” the pout returned to your face as more tears welled up in your eyes.

“how are you being so sweet right now?” he pulled you into a hug now, rubbing his hand gently up and down your spine as he laughed slightly.

“to be honest with you, i’ve had about two weeks to let the information sink in.” you pulled away just enough to look up at him with glassy eyes.

“two weeks? why two weeks?” you began to wrack your brain. what had happened between the two of you two weeks ago?

“the day i met luke, and i saw the two of you together, i knew you’d never belong to me. i don’t think you’ve realized it yet, and i’m not sure if he has or not, but y/n, you can’t love me because you love him.”

his words hit you like a train. it was like you had been trying to put together a whole lego set without the base piece, and now that you had it, it was finally standing up straight and looking like it was supposed to. you were suddenly hearing what luke wasn’t saying on your phone call earlier, what he hadn’t been saying in all of your conversations for god knows how long. you were realizing why peyton felt like he was missing something even though he had been nothing but perfect to you.

“and now i think you’ve realized it,” peyton said quietly, a smile on his face.

“peyton… i am so sorry.”

“hey, don’t be sorry, remember? i want you to be happy, okay? and it sucks that that isn’t going to be with me. but i would never be selfish and keep you for myself when that’s clearly not what you want.”

you couldn’t help but surge forward, squeezing him tightly to thank him for the amount of clarity he had shown you. but just as quickly as you grabbed him, you let go and stood up.

“i need… i need to go. um, you can eat all the food and just, lock the door on your way out and-“

peyton stood and slipped on his shoes, shaking his head slightly as he laughed at you.

“need a ride?” your shoulders deflated as some of the stress left your body.

“yes please.”

“come on.” you grabbed your phone and slipped on the shoes by your door, following peyton out of the building to his car. from the moment that you buckled you were zoned out, biting at your nails as you tried to plan what to say.

how do you tell your best friend that you’re in love with him? what if he hadn’t realized he was in love with you too. what if he wasn’t in love with you? oh god what if peyton had gotten into your head and made you believe all of this as revenge for breaking up with him? no, he wouldn’t do that. would he?

it took you a moment to realize the car was parked in front of jack and quinn’s lake house. however, even after you realized, you stayed still.

“you gonna make me sit here all night?” peyton teased. you finally looked up at him, forcing a small smile through your worried state.

“thank you, peyton. for everything.” he gave a smile and a slight nod, then looked to the front door.

“go be happy.”

you were quick to unbuckle and climb out of the car, not sparing a glance behind you as you made your way up the sidewalk. you vaguely registered the sound of the car leaving and the way the night grew darker as the light from his headlights left, but your eyes stayed trained on the front door. usually you just walked right in, but that didn’t seem right for the moment. so instead you rang the doorbell.

you waited a moment, then realized the two boys probably wouldn’t be phased by someone ringing the bell. it wasn’t a common occurrence unless the person ringing it was a sales person or such. so you stepped forward and rang it again. it took a moment of waiting but finally the door opened to reveal your confused best friend.

“y/n? why did you… get in here.” but you stood in your spots taking a deep breath to steel yourself for what you were about to say.

“i don’t love peyton.” now luke looked even more confused.

“we had this conversation like half an hour ago. are you okay? come inside.”

“luke! i… i don’t love peyton because i love you.”

it was slow, the way his demeanor changed. but sure enough, his frown turned up into a smile and his eyes lit up as your words fully registered inside of his brain. his grip on the door handle fell and he ran his hand through his curls.

“god, i thought you’d never figure it out.” he was reaching for you then, cupping your cheeks in his palms and pressing his lips to yours. he kissed you like he’d never get enough, like he never wanted to let you go.

“god guys, get a room.” luke pulled away then, and you glanced around him to see jack standing there. his tone was disgusted but his expression was giddy. but before you could question it, he spoke again. “great timing though, i’m winning five grand on this. i gotta call trev.”

he walked away, and you looked up at luke, who was already smiling down at you. his eyes were bright and his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were just a little swollen. you were nearly sure you didn’t look much different.

“how about we go to my room and talk about this, yeah?” you nodded, considering the only thing you’d want more was for him to kiss you again. but seeing as you were still standing in the front doorway, maybe that could wait just a moment. well…

“kiss me one more time?” you asked, batting your lashes at him. his smile turned into a soft smirk for a moment before his lips were back on yours.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #Spotify

[fallingforfictionalcharacterss]

The sweetest dream

Summary: When you fall asleep on Draco´s lap, it leads to some unexpected confession.

Draco and you had been best friends ever since you could remember. When you were younger, you almost lived in the Malfoy Manor, since your parents were really close friends. That´s why you couldn’t think of a life without Draco. And if you were honest, you also didn’t want to. He had always been there, and he always would be. That´s what he had promised you, even before you attended Hogwarts when you turned eleven. Back then you had been scared that you might fall apart when you would start to go to school and meet new people. But Draco had assured you, that it would always be the two of you. And he kept his promise. Because since the two of you were sorted into Slytherin all those years ago, you grew even closer, even though you thought this would be impossible. Not only did you spend every second of your free time together, but you also studied together, and he sat next to you in nearly every class. And when it had been time to go home in the holidays, it didn’t even take you one day to appear at the door of the other one, not able to be separated from another for longer.

But these holidays had been different. You had been away with your parents for nearly the entire summer, visiting some distant relatives in another country. Draco and you had implored that he would be able to accompany you, but since his family needed him at home, this had been impossible. And when you had suggested you could stay home as well, your parents showed you once more, that they had a heart of stone, neither allowing you to stay home alone -even though you were already old enough to do so-, nor allowing you to stay at Draco´s home like you had done it so many times before, and Narcissa had assured your parents that she would have been glad to welcome you. But since your parents were the monsters they were, they forced you to spend nearly two months somewhere nearly on the other side of the world, where the sun was shining and you could lay on the beach all day with a drink in your hand and many friendly relatives who had already been dying to meet you. But none of those things had mattered since Draco hadn’t been with you. Even though you owled every single day, even sending some photographs, you missed him deeply and counted the days until you would finally be able to escape this paradise that was hell for you and finally get back home. And by home, you didn’t mean your house or school. You meant Draco. Because that´s what he was for you. Wherever you were, if he was with you, you felt at home.

And today you would finally get home again. It was the first day of the school year and you were already waiting at King´s cross. Usually, you arrived only a minute before the train would leave, always making Draco worry you may not make it, but today you were nearly half an hour earlier, not able to wait until you would see your best friend again.

But for now, you didn’t see him yet. You had just met Pansy who was a nearly as good friend as Draco. The two of you shared a dorm at Hogwarts and together with Draco and Blaise, the four of you were the absolute best friends Hogwarts had ever seen. In your opinion even better than Potter and his friends.

While normally you loved to chat with Pansy who was telling you about her vacation, you were now way too nervous to concentrate on what she was saying. Your gaze was restless and your leg bounced in anticipation.

“(Y/n), are you even listening to me?”, Pansy asked as she saw you nodding and forcing a smile at something in her eyes unacceptable, she had experienced in the last weeks.

“Mhh? Oh yeah of course. That´s nice.”, you answered absent-minded, not even caring to ask what she was even talking about.

“I don’t think there is any use for you before you haven’t seen Draco, is there?”

You shrugged your shoulders and looked at your friend guiltily.

“I´m sorry Pansy. But I haven’t seen him in ages. We´ve never been apart for so long.”

Pansy laughed.

“Well, it´s good then that you´ll meet again soon before you actually go mad.”

“It´s just all this waiting drives me crazy.”, you sighted dramatically.

“If you would look over there you would be done waiting. Just saying.”, Pansy smiled and nodded in the direction of the entrance.

Your gaze shot up. There he stood. Hands in his pockets and with a board grin on his face. It only grew wider when he saw your face lightning up at his sight.

“Draco!”, you yelled, leaving Pansy behind, who just shook her head, smiling to herself, as she saw you running up to the boy you had missed so much over the last weeks.

Draco took a few steps forward, opening his arm to welcome the girl he had missed just as much as she had missed him. When you reached him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, while his sneaked around your waist, lifting you from your feet and spinning you around.

“I missed you so much.”, you mumbled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent.

“I missed you too love.”, he smiled as he nuzzled his head into your hair.

When he finally let go of you, you stepped back, eying him from head to toe.

“Looking good Malfoy.”, you smiled.

And that wasn’t even a lie. You had always been aware of the fact that he was very pretty, knowing many girls knew that too, which you always teased him about, but you had forgotten how beautiful he was. Draco had grown at least a few centimetres over the holidays. His hair was now a bit longer and slightly messy, maybe also due to your tempestuous greeting. It made him look older and, even though this thought caught you completely off guard, really attractive.

“You don’t look too bad yourself (Y/l/n).”

He mirrored your smile, his grey eyes lingering on you as well as yours on him. You could feel the blush creeping on your cheeks under his intense gaze. You cleared your throat.

“So how were your holidays?”

“As if you didn’t know. I sent you at least a hundred letters.”, he laughed.

“Yeah, but I want to hear it from you. In-person. From eye to eye. And if it´s just to hear your voice. So what happened? Tell me everything.”

“Actually, they were really awful.” He smiled down at you as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I couldn’t enjoy anything. I was thinking about you the entire time.”

His confession made your heart for some reason beat faster.

“Me too.”, you admitted, returning his smile. “Just promise me we´ll never be apart for that long again. Don’t think I´ll survive this another time.”

Draco laughed at your staginess but became serious again within a second.

“The next time we´ll spent our holidays together. And if our parents have different plans, I don’t care. I´ll run away with you if I need to. Two roamers roaming through the country, staying at dive bars, living on the streets.”

Now it was on you to laugh.

“You wouldn’t survive two days.”

“As if you would.” “Longer than you definitely. A week at least.”

“I could do it too. As long as you are with me, I would sleep in a tent under a bridge if I need to. It´s still better than not being with you.”

You felt the blush darkening your cheeks once more. To hide it, you pulled Draco in a tight embrace once more.

“I know. Any place with you is home.”

“Indeed love.”

“Would you two lovebirds stop snuggling? We still have a train to catch.”

You turned around, seeing Pansy and Blaise waiting for you, both for some reason grinning knowingly.

“Shut it, Pansy.”, you mumbled, before greeting Blaise.

This year would be great. You just knew it.

And you were absolutely right. Even though your classes were harder than ever and you spent much time studying, you enjoyed every single moment of it. Because learning magic amazed you even after all these years, your grades were great and you and your friends spent much time with each other, growing only more and more close.

After you hadn’t seen him for such a long time, Draco and you had to catch up much time and you didn’t waste any second of it. You spent much time learning, laughing, talking and also cuddling, probably more than ever. That led to some teasing from the other Slytherins, especially Pansy and Blaise. Draco, who had always stated that he had a reputation to lose, why he never liked to commit any kind of physical or emotional closeness, seemed to be clingier since the beginning of this year. And all those comments that he always used to hate, he now just laughed off. When someone made a comment about the two of you laughing in the corridors between class, he just grabbed your hand, telling them that it wasn’t his fault they hadn’t such amazing friends and if someone mentioned how the two of you laid on the couch in the common room together, he just grumbled something incomprehensible and pulled you only closer, making you sight comfortably. You didn’t mind his new behaviour at all. Salazar, you even loved it. You enjoyed every second with Draco and that he was now able to show he felt the same, made you even happier.

But still, the comments of your friends, especially Pansy, annoyed you. They always said that the two of you would make such a cute couple or how the two of you should get a room when you got close once more. You mostly just rolled your eyes in response, trying to hide the fact that your face heated up, every time someone brought up the special bond between Draco and you.

Because if you were completely honest, the one thing that changed the most since the last school year, was your feelings for your best friend. Before the holidays, you had never seen more in him than your friend. An amazing one, but still, only a friend. Whenever you had heard Draco´s and your mother talking about how they were sure that the two of you would get married one day, you scrunched your face at the thought of marrying Draco out of all the boys.

But since that day at the train station, you couldn’t help but sometimes catch yourself daydreaming about what could happen if the two of you would ever be more than friends. Because if you were honest, Draco was everything you were looking for in a boy. Not only that he was good looking and his family was rich and pure blood. You couldn’t mind less. But he was the one person in this world who truly knew you. He knew all your secrets, all your fears, your hopes and dreams and you knew his.

The only thing he didn’t know was the way your heartbeat sped up whenever someone only mentioned his name, not saying when you saw him. He didn’t know about the shivers that ran down your spine when you heard him calling your name or when his skin unintentionally brushed over yours. He didn’t know how you got lost in his eyes, whenever you looked at him or how you wondered how his lips would feel on yours whenever you watched him talking. He didn’t know any of these things and you were glad about it. Because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship for a stupid little crush. That´s what you told yourself it was. Only a crush. Even though after nearly half a year, you slowly started to realize that it might be more than this. You knew you wanted more, but you were also scared that you might end up with nothing if you would confess it to him. And you rather were just friends with Draco, than lose this as well.

You told no one about these feelings, not even Pansy. But your friend seemed to notice. She had always told you that Draco and you would one day be more than just friends. You had always laughed at her for this, telling her that this was absolutely impossible.

But by now, you couldn’t laugh about it anymore, just forcing yourself to smile whenever she brought this topic up. Obviously, she noticed the change of your behaviour and also suspected the reason for it. And as usual, she was right.

“(Y/n), you can´t tell me you don’t love him.”, she told you one evening.

Pansy and you were sitting in the common room, waiting for Draco and Blaise to get back from their Quidditch training. It was late in the evening and it was already dark outside.

“I never said I don’t love him. He is my friend. Of course I love him. But so I love you and Blaise.”

“You know that´s not what I mean.”, Pansy said, rolling her eyes impatiently. “I´m not talking about loving someone as a friend. I´m talking not only about loving but about being in love. And you clearly are in love with Draco.”

“Great Pansy, shout it out of the window, maybe the students from the other houses haven’t heard you yet.”, you hissed, when her voice got louder and some other students looked in your direction curiously.

“So you admit that you are.” She sounded triumphal.

“Never said I am.”, you mumbled.

“But you also never said you are not.”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, does it? I mean Draco and I are best friends. It would be awkward if I… I don’t want to ruin what we have. I don’t want to lose him.”

To the end your voice became quieter.

“But if you won´t do anything, you ruin what could be.” Pansy´s voice sounded much softer now.

“Draco doesn’t feel the same as I feel for him. I mean if I would… you know… be in love with him. Which I´m not saying I am.”, you added quickly.

Pansy giggled.

“Of course not. But seriously (Y/n). I don’t get it. Everyone can see how much you love each other. I mean how much in love you are. Salazar, you always steal those glances, blushing and smiling stupidly whenever someone just mentions the others name. And you are so close. Closer than with anyone else. Have you never noticed that Draco had never even looked at another girl?”

Now that Pansy mentioned it, you realized that this was right indeed. Even though you knew many girls were interested in Draco, he had never shown any interest in someone. Sometimes you had talked about it. But Draco had always said that he didn’t want to settle for something if he wasn’t absolutely sure that he loved her. That didn’t mean that he hadn’t made his experiences, but it had never been more than this. It had never been something serious. And for some reason, you were really glad about it.

“I´m just scared to lose him Pansy.”, you sighted, kicking your feet up on the couch as well, now laying down.

“Your connection is something special (Y/n). Even if he wouldn’t feel the same, and I highly doubt that this wouldn’t be the end.” “But I probably couldn’t even look him in the eyes anymore after this. And by the way, how am I even supposed to tell him? ´Hey Draco, I know we´ve been best friends ever since I can remember, but I think I might be in love with you so let´s get this to the next level?´”

“Maybe not that direct.”, Pansy laughed and you joined.

That´s when the door opened, and two tall boys entered the room. When they saw you still sitting there, they headed towards you.

“Lovely Draco, isn’t it? Our girls have been waiting for us.”, Blaise chuckled, while Pansy and you just rolled your eyes.

You always acted as if you hated when the boys referred to you like this, but you secretly enjoyed it and, even though Pansy would never admit it, you suspected, that she enjoyed it just as much.

Blaise fell into the chair next to Pansy, while you lifted your head from the sofa cushion, making some space for Draco. When he had sat down, you placed your head on his lap instead. His hands immediately found their way to your hair, softly stroking it. You sighted comfortably.

Draco and Blaise told you about their training. When at some point the topic changed to some different tactics they wanted to try at the next game, your felt your eyelids getting heavy. You didn’t really try to fight it. Draco´s hands were still in your hair, drawing small circles on your scalp. You inhaled the scent of the body wash he always used after the training and the unique scent of his jersey. Listening to Draco´s and Blaise´s soft voices, you slowly drifted off into sleep.

“Did she really fall asleep?”, Blaise asked.

“Shh, don’t wake her up again.”, Draco hushed him, looking down at you on his lap.

You had actually fallen asleep, now lost in the world of your dreams, unaware of your surroundings and the conversation of your friends.

“This looks so adorable, don’t you think Blaise?”, Pansy purred as she looked at Draco and you.

You were still snuggled up on his lap, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Your breath was slow and steady. Draco on the other hand looked down at you in admiration. He wanted to take this moment in, every second of it. He didn’t dare to move, too scared he might wake you up, except for his hands. They slowly wandered from your scalp to your face, brushing away a loose strand that had fallen into your face, then gently caressing your cheeks.

“Lovely.”, Blaise chuckled. “But careful Draco, you´re drooling already.”

Draco quickly brought up a hand to his mouth, before rolling his eyes and burying it in your hair again. The movement made Pansy and Blaise laugh quietly.

“If you´ll ever tell me again you aren’t in love with her I´ll remind you of this moment.”

Draco tensed under you.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”, he grumbled.

“But why? You two are made for each other. Everyone can see. Everyone except for you two.”

“It doesn’t matter if I love her or…”

“You do.”, Blaise interrupted him.

“Well, maybe…”

“No, for sure.”, Pansy said.

Draco sighted.

“Okay. I am. I am totally crazy about her. As if you didn’t know. But this doesn’t matter. I mean, she doesn’t love me. Not the way that I love her. And I can´t lose her. I just can´t”

Draco looked down at you, smiling softly in your sleep. Hell yes, he loved you. He loved you so much it hurt. He did so ever since he could remember. But unfortunately, you had never seen anything more in him than your friend. It killed him to play pretend, but anything was better than losing you.

Then he heard Pansy chuckling. He looked up, shooting her a deadly glance.

“You don’t actually think it´s funny, do you?”

Pansy was quick to shake her head.

“No. Not at all. It´s just… (Y/n) has told me literally the same thing not even an hour ago.”

“Pansy, that´s nothing to joke about.”

“I´m serious Draco. She had told me just before you came in here. Told me that she is too scared to tell you how she feels because she is too scared to lose you.”

Draco looked down at you, still sleeping, completely unaware of the fact that Pansy had just exposed you. The fact that you might feel the same for him as he did for you, was unimaginable for him. You were such a good person, so pure, everyone loved you. And he was… him.

“You probably misheard her. Or misunderstood. She doesn’t love me. Not like this. And she shouldn’t. She deserves so much better.”

His friends looked at him with pity, fully aware that you were the only thing in Draco´s life he was actually insecure about because of how much he cared about you, but also wondering if their friend could actually be that stupid. In fact, both of you. Normally, the two of you were pretty intelligent people. But when it came to your feelings for each other, you were completely clueless. It might have been funny to watch the two of you secretly admiring each other if it wouldn’t have been that sad.

“But what if she doesn’t want something better, Draco? What if she just wants you?”, Pansy asked, not expecting him to answer.

“Just think about it mate.”, Blaise said, before standing up. “I´ll go to bed now. I´m done for today.”

Pansy was quick to get up too.

“I´ll go too.” She looked at Draco. “What about you?”

But Draco just shook his head, his gaze still lingering on you.

“I can´t wake her up now. I´ll stay.”

Blaise shook his head in incomprehension.

“And you really want to tell us that there´s someone better for her?”, he chuckled, before leaving the room.

Pansy followed shortly after, leaving the two of you alone, closing the door of the common room behind her.

Draco looked down at you again. Your eyes were still closed, your head still rested on his legs.

“What are you only doing to me (Y/n)?”, he whispered, before he continued playing with your hair.

You woke up to the sound of a door slamming. It took you a moment to realize where you were. You were still in the common room, laying on the couch, your head placed on Draco´s lap. You could still feel his warm presence and heard his steady breath. You must have fallen asleep over all the talking of the boys. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but according to the sounds around you, it was only Draco and you who were left in the common room.

You were just about to open your eyes, wanting to ask Draco why he didn’t wake you up, when you heard his voice.

“What are you only doing to me (Y/n)?”, he whispered.

His voice sounded different than usual, much softer and much more vulnerable. From the way, he was careful not to move too much and his low voice, he probably assumed you were still asleep. His hands found their way into your hair once more this evening and you had to suppress a comfortable sight. But you couldn’t help the small smile that crept on your lips and the goosebump all over your body when you felt his hands touching you. You could have fallen asleep again right away, but then, Draco started to talk to you again.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

You felt your cheeks burning at his words and were thankful that the light in the room was dimmed, so Draco wouldn’t be able to notice.

“Of course, I haven’t told you.”, he continued. “There are so many things I have never told you. Even if I wanted to. But I´m way too scared. Now, look at me. I´m such a coward, only able to talk to you when you are asleep.” At this point, you should probably tell Draco you were already awake or at least acting as if you would wake up, but something held you back. You felt as if your eyes were glued, you were not able to open them or give him any other sign you were anything but asleep. You knew it was wrong to listen to him when he thought you couldn’t, but you were way too curious not to do so.

“I really want to tell you. Everything I feel for you. I always intend to do so. I swear to Salazar I do. But as soon as I see you, as soon as you look at me, I forget whatever I wanted to say. Because you take my breath away. And then I´m just staring at you like some idiot. And you don’t even notice. You still think I´m nothing but your best friend. I am (Y/n). We are best friends and we always will be. But you just don’t understand that I want more.”

Your heart was beating so fast in your chest that you thought Draco would notice. But he didn’t.

“You are so smart (Y/n), but when it comes to my feelings for you, you are so clueless. Do you remember at the end of our first year, when you mentioned how amazing Terence Higgs is? He was the seeker back then. Why did you think I wanted to play in this position? Of course, it was great to play against Potter. But the real reason was that I wanted to impress you. And it worked, you were so proud of me. But never anything more. Or back in our third year. You had told me you had a crush on Graham Montague. Why do you think I hexed him that nasty rash into his stupid face?”

Draco chuckled.

“He was in the hospital wing for nearly two weeks. You were so worried about him and I already regretted it, thinking I might have only gotten the two of you closer, but then he screwed it up himself. I have always been so scared of the day you would actually fall in love. The day you would get a man who loves you just as you love him. And I still am. Because I knew that this is everything you deserve but I know that it will break my heart (Y/n). To see you with some other guy who is not me. I have always told myself that this is because we know each other for so long. That you are like a sister to me and I just want to protect you. But that´s not true. You´re nothing like a sister to me. The real reason I´m scared is that I won´t be able to stand it seeing you being in love with someone who isn’t me. I know you deserve this. You really do. And I wish you nothing but to be happy. But why can´t this be with me? You know, sometimes when I look at you, I think you might feel the same. When I see you smile at me, I feel like it is different from the way you smile at all the other boys. Sometimes I still have some hope left that you might want me one day the way I want you. I know you love me (Y/n). But not in the way I love you. You understand? You´re all I´m thinking about, when I wake up and when I go to sleep. When you are with me and when you aren’t. I´m so in love with you (Y/n). I love you so much, it hurts. And you still have no clue about it. You have no idea how much I love you.”

But you did. Now you couldn’t hold back the uncontrollable smile on your face anymore. You opened your eyes flutteringly, blinking up to the boy above you.

“I love you too Draco.”, you whispered.

The poor boy jumped up when he heard your voice, nearly making you fall from the couch. In the last second, some strong hand grabbed you, preventing you from doing so.

“By Salazar (Y/n), you scared me to death.”, Draco breathed out as you sat up again, smiling at him from the side.

You laughed.

“Sorry.”

Draco smiled too, but as he thought about what he had just told you, his heart dropped into his stomach.

“How much have you heard?”, he mumbled, as he felt his cheeks redden.

“Enough I guess.”, you smiled.

Draco cleared his throat and scratched his neck.

“Listen, I really didn’t want you to hear this. I really thought you were still asleep. So if you want to we can just forget everything that happened and continue being friends. I mean, I totally understand if you don’t want to. Because that was really awkward and all, but…”

“Draco.”, you interrupted him.

“If you´ll give me one more chance…”

“Draco!”, you said, now a little bit louder.

The boy stopped and looked at you worriedly.

“Did you even hear what I have told you?”, you chuckled.

“That you heard enough?”, Draco asked.

You laughed.

“Before this.”

“That you are sorry or that you…”

Draco stopped and looked at you with widened eyes.

“You… you love me too?”, he asked in disbelief.

You nodded.

“I love you too, you idiot. Or more precisely,”, you corrected, “I am in love with you too.”

As if in slow motion, a grin started to spread across Draco´s face.

“You love me too.”

“I love you too.”

“And I love you.”

“You love me.”

You both grinned at each other stupidly.

“Can I uhm… can I kiss you(Y/n)?”, Draco asked shyly.

You didn’t even care to respond and just crashed your lips onto his.

It was a messy kiss. Even though you had both known each other’s bodies for so long, it felt strange to feel his lips pressed on yours. But in the best way possible.

And slowly, the two of you started to relax, becoming more and more familiar with this new sensation. Draco´s hands found their way to your face to cup your cheeks. You could feel his rings, which you loved to play with whenever you were bored, cold against your heated skin. You placed your hands on his chest, drawing small circles on it, before they wandered to his collar, pulling him even closer.

One of his hands travelled down your back, helping you stabilise as you swung one leg over his lap, now sitting on top of him, as Draco tried to pull you even closer.

At some point, both of you were finally out of breath. You cupped his face, your thumb brushed over his swollen lips, while his hands wandered restlessly over your back. You pressed your forehead against his, feeling his hot breath hitting your skin. When Draco finally opened his eyes, he looked at you in admiration. You looked at him just the same. Not getting enough on the way of his grey eyes, scanning every centimetre of your face, trying to remember the way your cheeks had reddened and your breath was so much faster than usual. He wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his life, every single detail of it, and so did you.

“I love you.”, he whispered.

His lips brushed slightly against yours as he spoke.

“I love you too.”, you smiled.

“And I hate the both of you.”, you heard a voice behind you.

You spun around, seeing Blaise and Pansy standing in the door frame, looking at you. Both of them were grinning, even though Pansy looked not as happy as Blaise.

“Now I owe him five galleons.”, she sighted.

“You betted on this?”, you asked in disbelieve.

Pansy shrugged her shoulders.

“Everyone did. We knew this would happen, it was only a matter of time. I was so close to winning, but Blaise was even better.”

“I know my friends.”, Blaise simply said with a smug grin on his face.

“If you know me so well you know you should better start running if you won´t get out of here in the next five seconds.”, Draco growled, shooting deadly glances at your friends.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to disturb you.”, Pansy laughed and raised her hands in defence. “Let´s go, Blaise.”

“I can sleep somewhere else tonight if you need some privacy.”, Blaise chuckled and ducked quickly as Draco threw a pillow at him.

“Out. Now!”

“Whatever. Have fun you two.”

Blaise winked at you and quickly disappeared before Draco could get up.

You groaned and hid your face in the crook of Draco´s neck.

“That was so embarrassing.”, you mumbled.

Draco just laughed and kissed your temple.

“I don’t care.”

“But now everyone is going to talk about this.”, you sighted.

“Let them talk love. I regret nothing.”

Slowly, you dived up again, looking into his smiling face.

“Neither do I.”, you admitted and his smile only grew wider.

“Well in that case,” Draco placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose, making you giggle. “We might as well take advantage of Blaise´s offer.”

“What offer?”

“Get him out of my room. I would love to spend some more time with my beautiful girlfriend tonight. You know, somewhere we won´t be disturbed.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Girlfriend?”, you asked, the grinning in your voice clearly visible.

Draco looked down, slightly embarrassed.

“Only if you want to be, of course.”

You smiled and pecked his lips.

“I would love to.”

Draco mirrored your smile and pulled you in a deeper kiss once more.

After you parted again, you looked at him playfully.

“Now you have told me something about a more private place?”

Taglist: @xodracomalfoyxo @marigold-morelli @writingwitch007

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco fluff #draco fanfiction #draco fic #harry potter #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #slytherin reader #slytherin #fanfiction #fanfic

[multifandomsw]

Apologies

Harry Styles x Reader

summary: After an encounter with your old best friend, she gave you her number to catch up. When you decide to send her a message, someone else replies. Was it destiny?

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol, Harry himself

author’s note: I feel like you’ll either like this or hate this. My writing is quite shitty, but who cares? Once again, a big thank you to @manrocket-mo who helped me out SO MUCH. I love our chats 🤭

Part 6

Apologies masterlist

“London is so beautiful.”, you breathed out as you and Lucy walked through the city, your arm linked with hers. You were absolutely mesmerized by the buildings and their architecture. London just felt different. Different in a good way. A deep contrast to the small town where you were from. It felt like the minute you landed in London, you were already feeling better, happier and safer.

“It is.”, Lucy smiled. You had met up with her a few times and got quite close to her. It was mostly her who spoke, but you began to open up to her too. She was really nice and seemed like a person you could trust.

A real friend. For once.

You had learned quite a bit about Lucy. She worked at her parent’s firm and earned very much money. She loved to spend said money, especially on clothes and bags. Lucy had just broken up with her boyfriend of four years a month ago and was currently living alone. She was an extrovert and loved the attention, but also liked staying at home and watch Netflix. Most importantly, she was a great friend. Lucy always listened to you and had never once interrupted you. She already cared about you and had even offered you to stay at her apartment.

You stayed at an old and cheap Airbnb until you found an apartment in London, which turned out not to be easy at all. They were either too expensive or way too small and nothing seemed fitting.

“Did you think about my offer?”, Lucy raised her eyebrows expectingly while you just sighed. “I wouldn’t even be able to pay the rent. It’s a very kind offer, but-“

“There’s no rent to pay.”, Lucy grinned at you. “It’s my apartment, I inherited it from my grandparents.”

“Lucy-“, you began, but she interrupted you quickly. “You need a place to stay at and I’d love to have a roommate. It’s been very lonely lately.”, she admitted and lowered her head.

How could you say no to that?

“Okay.”, you gave in. “But I’m gonna pay you. Somehow”

Lucy only rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”

-

You: I found a place to stay at

H: You did? Finally!

You: Lucy offered me to stay at her place

You: After she begged me for days, I finally gave in

You: She’s a really great friend

H: I’m happy for you

H: How’s London?

You: You should know, don’t you live here?

H: I do, but I travel a lot with my band. I wish I could be in London more often

You: I wish we could meet up. Someday.

H: We will, I promise.

H: After finishing this tour.

You: What’s your band called anyway?

H: I’ll tell you soon enough

You: That’s so unfair! You’re always so secretive.

You: You even know what I look like

H: I promise you’ll find out

H: The time’s just not right yet

You: If you say so.

H: Cherry

You: No, I trust you. Like you said.

H: Thank you

H: So how’s London truly?

You: Absolutely mesmerizing!

H: It is :)

H: I have a few favorite places that I feel like you’ll like

You: Ohh that sounds promising, H

H: You should definitely go to Columbia Road Flower Market

H: It’s one of my favorite places ever

You: I didn’t know you like flowers

H: I love flowers, they’re beautiful

H: But I have to warn you

H: None of them will compare to your beauty

You: STOP

You: You’re making me blush

-

The first thing that you noticed as you walked into Lucy’s apartment was its smell. The sweet scent of vanilla filled your nose and immediate comfort washed over you.

It smelled just like Lucy.

You looked around and observed that the apartment was giant, yet the first word that came to your mind that would perfectly describe it was cozy.

The living room with its big windows was well lit and you noticed the sun peeking through the curtains. When you stepped forward, the sun hit your face and warmth spread through your body. You pushed the curtains aside and your eyes widened as you came into view with Big Ben. “Wow.”, you let out and took a picture.

“That’s not what I expected.”, you chuckled as your gaze moved to the piano in the corner of the living room. “Is this yours?”, you questioned, but Lucy only shook her head. “They are-“, she began, but stopped mid-sentence. “A friend of mine used to live here for a while. He never took his piano with him.”

You snorted. “Did you think about giving it back to him?”, you asked. “No, trust me when I say he has enough money to buy a new one. He probably doesn’t even realize it’s still here. Besides, I love practicing on it.”

“You play the piano?”, you wanted to know and Lucy chuckled. “I’m trying my best.”, she explained and led you to the guest room. “Here’s where you will stay.”

You grinned at her. The room was plain and only consisted of a twin size bed and a closet. But you would make it yours. Eventually.

You: 📷

You: You can see Big Ben from her apartment!

H: What a great view

H: Which reminds me..

H: 📷

H: This is the bookstore you told me about, isn’t it?

You: No way! I’m so jealous! I’ve been dreaming about visiting Shakespeare and Company FOR YEARS

You: Why are you in Paris??

H: My band has a small concert here today

You: Oh! Good luck!

H: Thanks, Chérie

You: Aww

You: Is Paris as beautiful as people say it is?

H: Even more beautiful

H: Everything reminds me of you

You: I’m smiling STOP

H: Then I’ll never stop

You: La ville de l’amour

H: The city of love indeed

You: And have you found love yet, H?

H: Yes

H: But not in Paris

You let out a giddy laugh, but clasped your hand over your mouth only moments later, hoping that Lucy hadn’t heard you as you had yet to tell her about H.

You looked around your new room once more, before you decided to put your clothes in the closet.

You opened the closet which was filled with some old clothes. One sweater in particular caught your attention. You almost let out a snort as you saw that it was an old One Direction sweater with their faces on it. “I didn’t know you were a One Direction fan.”, you laughed.

“What?”, Lucy called out and made her way to your room. Her face was filled with confusion, but when her eyes landed on the sweater, realization washed over her face. “Oh. I used to be a fan. Not anymore, though.”, she admitted shyly.

You only giggled in response. “I like it.”, you admitted and Lucy simply shrugged. “You can keep it if you want, I don’t wear it anymore.”

You grinned at her. “Great.”, you let out and buried your nose into the sweater. The scent instantly hit your nose. It smelled like a forest in spring after it had just rained, like fresh flowers and grass. It smelled like home.

And it most certainly didn’t smell like Lucy.

-

“He called again.”, Lucy complained and you looked up from your hot chocolate. You were sitting in a small café that H had told you about and you absolutely loved it. It was not too crowded, very cozy and affordable. You’d have to thank him later.

“Who?”, you raised your eyebrows and it was clear that you had not listened. ��My ex!”, Lucy groaned and realization hit you. “He’s still calling you? That means he must care for you.”

Lucy let out a brutal laugh. “If caring for me means cheating on me with one of my closest friends, then yes.”

You pressed your lips together and lowered your head. “Oh.”, you let out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know-“

“No.”, Lucy interrupted you. “Not your fault-“, her sentence was cut short when a girl came up to you. She smiled at you and her eyes lit up. “Hey, aren’t you y/n? Can I take a picture with you?”, the girl asked sweetly and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. When you looked at Lucy, she only shrugged her shoulders. “How-“, you gulped. “How do you know me?”

The girl giggled. “You’re jesting. You’re all over the internet!”

“What?”, you let out and the girl looked at you quizzically before pulling out her phone and showing you some Tweets.

They were all about you. About the conversation you and Harry Styles had at his concert. Pictures of your face were all over Twitter, some were making fun of your appearance while other were speculating whether you and Harry Styles-

You couldn’t even finish the thought because it was so ridiculous. There was no world, no universe and no galaxy where Harry Styles, one of the most famous singers of your time, would like you. The people were jealous for no reason. It was so ridiculous that you almost let out a hysterical laugh.

Almost.

Because this was your worst nightmare. Your face was all over the internet. Everyone knew how you looked like, everyone saw your flaws, your insecurities. You hated it, you absolutely hated it and almost smashed the girl’s phone into the wall.

Almost.

“No, no. I don’t-“, you tried to stay strong, but the way your voice cracked at the end gave you away. “He just talked to me. I don’t even know him.”, you clarified and watched as the girl’s face fell. “Oh.”, she let out and left.

You tried to blink away the tears that were almost leaving your eyes.

Almost.

Before Lucy could even say anything, you packed your things. “Hey.”, Lucy began and you shook your head. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”, you let out, trying to convince yourself more than her.

“What just happened?”, she desperately wanted to know and your eyes locked with hers. She watched you with a concerned look on her face. “Harry Styles talked to me at the concert I was at and told you about. Which is, as a matter of fact, nothing special, he always interacts with his fans. But somehow, my interaction with him and my face is all over the internet.”

“Which is your worst nightmare.”, Lucy added and you nodded, letting a tear fall freely. “I hate the attention, the criticism.”

Lucy reached out and grabbed your hand. “The internet will forget, I promise. You have nothing to worry about.”, she tried to console you and you almost believed her.

Almost.

-

You didn’t leave the apartment for days. Because you were afraid. Afraid that people would recognize you and try to talk to you on the street, afraid that people would make fun of you.

Afraid of people.

It was quite lonely, but the Netflix shows and the smell of Lucy’s sweater, that you hadn’t taken off for days, distracted you and calmed you just a little.

You hated it. You hated that you were afraid. You hated that you cried yourself to sleep everyday. You hated that you even cared about it.

Sometimes you wished you could be just like Lucy. She wouldn’t care about those Tweets, she would be able to ignore them and never think of them again.

In your case, however, the Tweets were imprinted on your brain and would never leave it, regardless of what you tried.

Suddenly, your door opened and revealed Lucy with some clothes in her hand. “Hey.”, she greeted you. “Let’s get you out of bed.”

You groaned when she switched on the light. “What?”, you asked and she smirked at you. “We’re going out. I can’t see you moping around in your room any longer.”

“Going out where?”

“To the club.”, she explained as if you already knew about it. Lucy held out a black dress that you could already tell was quite revealing. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, no, no. We’re not going to the club.”, you refused, but Lucy looked at you with pleading eyes. “I haven’t made out with someone in ages. I need to get my mind off of my ex.”, she began, but you were not convinced yet. “Besides, the alcohol will make you forget about what happened.”

This. This sounded better. “It will?”, you raised your eyebrows in suspicion. “If you drink enough. Please. I can’t see you all sad anymore. I care bout you.”

This. This is where she had you. “Okay.”, you agreed and almost laughed when you saw the smirk on Lucy’s face.

-

“Stop fumbling with your dress!”, Lucy laughed and you simply groaned in return. “This can not be considered a dress anymore. It’s so short!”, you complained and Lucy shrugged her shoulders. “Might get you some attention. I don’t even know much about your love life.”

“There’s nothing to know. It’s non-existent.”, you explained as you both made your way to the bar and asked the bartender for something to drink. “We could change that.”, she giggled and you only rolled your eyes. “What? I mean look at you! You look great.”

You had to admit, you did look kinda good. She had put much effort into applying your make up and curling your hair. The outfit also did certainly not look bad on you.

Still, you felt ridiculous. This wasn’t you and you just didn’t feel confident in your skin, not like Lucy.

“Only because you want to get laid tonight, doesn’t mean I do.”

Lucy let out a gasp. “I never said-“, she stopped mid-sentence. “Well, I might have said that. But I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“You can. I understand that you want to forget your ex.”

You looked around and were reminded why you hated clubs so much. For once, it was filled to the brim and very hot. People were dancing on the dance floor without caring about the others. There was a lot of pushing and pulling and the air smelled like sweat. Just sweat.

The music was so loud that you could hardly even hear what Lucy said, or as a matter of fact what you said. But maybe Lucy was right. This would at least get your mind off of everything that had happened.

It was after your third drink that you felt the alcohol pumping through your system. The room seemed to be spinning and your giggles started to last a little longer than usual.

“I just- I’m so thankful that you took me out. I love getting drunk!”, you let out a giddy laugh and talked a little faster than usually. “After everything that happened. Especially at the concert.”, you continued and let out an exaggerated sigh.

Lucy, who was definitely not a light-weight like you, watched you in amusement. “What happened at the concert?”, she questioned. She knew that something must have happened, at least that’s what Harry told her. But he didn’t know what exactly took place.

“My old best friend and her boyfriend tricked me. He pretended to like me, and I didn’t know it was her boyfriend and asked me if I want to go to a concert with him. I agreed to, of course, because he even called it a date and who wouldn’t want to go out with a handsome guy, I mean how often do you get the chance-“, you were interrupted when Lucy cleared her throat. You were ranting.

“Right. Yes. Well, they showed up together and Lucy told said some mean things to me, like that Harry only talked to me because I’m so ugly and I even believed it, well believe it, because look at me? Why would Harry Styles talk to me? Well she said no one would ever like me and I kinda believe her because no one has ever liked me.”, your heart suddenly clenched in your chest at that memory. It all came crashing down again, your heartbreak, your insecurities, the feeling of not being good enough. The alcohol had made you happy, but you realized it was not enough yet. Before you continued, you took another large sip of your drink.

“I’m sorry-“, Lucy began, but as you felt the alcohol in your system again, you giggled. “No need to be sorry. I think someone likes me, well at least I like him. Funny story actually, I met this guy by accident because Jules gave me the wrong number. He’s so mysterious, it’s insane! I don’t even know how he looks like, but we’ve been writing for months and I really like him. Like like him. Maybe even more than liking him, I kinda have feelings for him and don’t say anything! I know that I don’t even know how he looks like, but he’s just so sweet and caring and he always send me pictures of things that remind him of me.”

Lucy bit her cheek and tried not to say anything, at least she had promised Harry not to. But this was good. Lucy now knew that you liked him too. Maybe not as much as Harry liked you, because he was basically obsessed with you, but quite a bit. She grinned at you. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

-

Harry was exhausted. He wasn’t exhausted because of his flight to London, though, no Harry was mentally exhausted because of you.

Well, not particularly because of you, but because of the fact that he felt you drifting away. It was Lucy that told him about a girl recognizing you, it was Lucy who told him that you stayed in your room for days, it was Lucy who you seemingly trusted more than him.

He wished it was him. He wished you would have told him all the things. Instead, you had pretended and acted like everything was fine, even after he had asked you multiple times.

Harry just wanted to help you, just wanted you to trust him. He wanted to call you his.

He began to resent his life, if he wasn’t Harry Styles, if he wasn’t one of the most popular singers, he could love you properly. He wanted to, so desperately wanted to tell you the truth. He even gave you a few hints here and there, but he was afraid. Afraid that you wouldn’t forgive him for lying to you.

“Harry?”, a voice interrupted his thoughts and Harry raised his head, shooting Sarah, who was sitting on Mitch’s lap, a confused look. “Hm?”

He could barely look at them. Not because he wasn’t happy for them, no, he was beyond happy for his friends, but because he craved what they had. He craved that deep, real and unconditional love they had.

“Your phone is ringing.”, she pointed to his phone that was lying on the table in front of him.

Harry only shrugged his shoulders, not even looking at the name on the screen. “Can’t be that important.”

Sarah shot Mitch a knowing look, before she spoke again. “This one might be.”

Harry sighed, but when he glanced down, his heart almost stopped.

Cherry.

You. You were calling him. Before he could even think, he picked up the call and held his breath for a second.

“Cherry?”, he whispered, keeping his voice down.

“H?”, your sweet voice answered and Harry’s heart surely stopped for a few seconds. He turned to Sarah with wide eyes, who only offered him a smile in return.

Before he could realize what he was doing, he was bolting out of the room and standing in the hallway of his apartment. “What- are you okay?”

“More than okay.”, you giggled and it was now that Harry noticed the loud music and people chattering in the background. “It’s just so unfair, H, I mean, I don’t know what you look like and I- I like you. It’s insane, you could look like a gorilla and I’d still like you.”, you slurred and Harry’s feelings were all over the place. For once, his heart was speeding in his chest at your confession. You liked him. You liked him. However, concern quickly overpowered the feeling of happiness shooting through his body.

“Are you drunk?”, he asked in distress.

“God- even your voice sounds hot.”

“Cherry, stop.”, he warned, his voice getting lower. You couldn’t distract him. Not now. Not when you were drunk and probably alone somewhere in London.

“Where are you, Cherry?”, he demanded, already running up to his room and putting on a black hoodie and sunglasses.

“Cherry?”, he tried again. “At a club. It’s so cool here! Lucy said it’s her favorite club.”

Harry let out a breath of relief. You were with Lucy and he knew what Lucy’s favorite club was. “But she’s away making out with a guy right now.”

Oh no.

No. No. No.

Harry quickly grabbed his car keys. “It feels so good getting drunk. Wait, let me order another drink!”

“Cherry?”

“Cherry! Hear me out. Stay were you are. I’m picking you-“, before Harry could finish his sentence, you hung up.

“Fuck!”, he let out before he stepped into his Ferrari.

-

The moment he stepped into the club, the hot air hit him. For a second, Harry regretted wearing a thick hoodie. But then he remembered that he had to. He didn’t want to get recognized, especially not today.

Harry scanned the dance floor for you, suddenly reminded of when he did the same thing at his concert. Searching for you in a crowd of people. He had found you back then and he was confident that he would find you today.

His eyes trailed to the bar where he saw a figure talking to the bartender-

The moment he saw you, everything else suddenly didn’t matter anymore. He forgot about the people around him, about the loud music, about the way he was sweating furiously.

Harry could only stare at you. You were wearing a black dress that was hugging your body perfectly. Your hair was curled and god-

Your smile. It was contagious. He let out a small laugh himself.

Until he realized who your smile was directed to.

Before he could even realize what he was doing, he was walking up to you and gently grabbed your arm, instantly gaining your attention.

You turned around to him quickly and Harry was absolutely mesmerized. God, he was so enraptured by your beauty. Your eyes were a bit glossed over, but shining nonetheless. Your cheeks were a slight pink color and he had to fight the urge to cup them with his hands. His eyes moved down to your lips, only once, but it was enough for him to know that he wanted to kiss you. Right then and there. He wanted to feel your smooth lips moving against his-

“Hi!”, you giggled and Harry could swear it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He had to shake his head and gather his thoughts again, remembering the reasons why he was even here.

Harry gulped. “Hey.”

“Are you my boyfriend?”, you tilted your head to the side, admiring his features.

Harry bit his cheek, hard. He wished, with every fiber of his being, that he could say yes. He wished that you were his.

“No.”, Harry admitted defeatedly. “Not yet.”, he added quickly.

“Oh.”, you answered and reached out to take off his sunglasses. The moment your fingers touched his face, Harry could feel a spark.

Your eyes met his and he saw how your face changed into something different. Adoration maybe?

“I’m sad you’re not. You are so beautiful.”, you breathed out and it was the end for Harry. He wanted to fall to his knees and ask you to marry him right then and there.

No one had ever called him beautiful before. Not to his face.

He let out a chuckle and lowered his head as he felt the blush creeping up his face. You would be the death of him.

Harry shook his head, trying to get rid off his thoughts.

His eyes moved away from your face and to the drink next to you. He could practically feel the men watching you and he was more than happy that no one had approached you yet. “Hey, you should keep your drink in your hands and don‘t look away from it. There are many vile men who would take advantage of that.”, he explained and you nodded. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.”

“Sorry.”

Harry sighed. “Where’s Lucy?”

“Oh.”, he watched as your face lit up. “You know Lucy?”, you squeaked out. “She’s great! Well, she’s probably in one of the bathroom stalls having sex-“

“Okay. We’re gonna stop right there.”, he interrupted you and bit his lip. “How about this: you’re gonna stay right where you are and I’m going to find Lucy. Then I’ll bring you home. How does that sound?”

He watched as you hesitated for a second, but then gave in. “Okay, stranger.”

It was minutes after that he found Lucy in a quiet corner making out with some guy. “Lucy.”, Harry called out and Lucy stopped kissing the guy. “Hm?”, she let out and her eyes widened when she saw Harry.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”, she wanted to know as the guy kissed down her neck. “This is not a good time.”, she continued, but when she saw Harry’s stern face, she knew she was in trouble and who this was about.

“Why would you take her to the club and leave her alone completely drunk? God knows how many drinks she had.”, Harry argued.

“She can take care of herself.”, Lucy shrugged her shoulders.

“Lucy.”, Harry repeated. “She hates clubs. She absolutely hates them. You should know this. How did you even get her to go with you?”

Lucy smirked at Harry. “I told her she could forget her troubles if she gets drunk.”

It took a lot of self control for Harry not to shout at Lucy.

Harry’s delicate heart, though, squeezed in his chest. You’d rather get drunk than talk to him, to H, about what had happened?

You meant so much to him, but Harry started to doubt if you even liked him back. “She could have talked to me!”

“I can’t believe you left her alone at the club! You should’ve stayed at her side instead of-“

“Harry.”

“No, you should’ve-“

“Harry.”, Lucy repeated and it was only then that Harry stopped, his eyes following hers.

Great. Someone was trying to talk to you.

“This is not over.”, he hissed out, before he made his way to you. A guy, probably a head taller than him, was leaning dangerously close to you.

Harry softly called your name, your real name, before he put his arm around you. “Stay away from my girlfriend.”, he warned and the guy put his hands up in surrender before leaving. “I thought you weren’t my boyfriend.”, you acknowledged as your eyelids grew heavier. “He simply wanted to talk to me!”

“Oh, trust me, he didn’t.”

“Can you stand?”, Harry asked and you nodded your head confidently. “Of course I can! Why wouldn’t I-“, as you took your first step, your body swayed and you fell into Harry’s arms.

Harry laughed and slung his arm around you. “Doesn’t look like it.”, he chuckled as he led you to out of his club and to his car.

“I promise you can trust me. I know Lucy. I’ll bring you home safely, okay?”, he stated. “Okay.”, you answered tiredly as you got into the passenger seat. Harry leaned over you, buckling you up before he got into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Harry glanced at you and saw how the moonlight perfectly illuminated your face. You looked like an angel. It was hard. So hard to keep his eyes on the road when he just wanted to look at your face.

“No.”, he scoffed.

“Why not?”

Harry hummed. “It’s complicated.”

“Soooo..”, you began. “Are you in love then?”, you asked and Harry grinned, his dimples very much evident on his face.

“I think I am.”, he started, but found the statement not quite fitting. “I know I am.”, he continued. “Are you?”

“It’s complicated.”, you mimicked his earlier words and Harry only rolled his eyes.

“Oh, complicated?”, he raised his eyebrows and reached out to turn on the radio.

He stopped breathing when he heard the first tunes of his own song, of Cherry, starting to play.

“No, not that song. Can you switch channels?”

His heart broke right then and there, but he changed the channel nonetheless. “What’s wrong with the song?”

Harry spared you a glance and saw that you were at the brink of tears. He reached down to hold your hand in his, but you quickly pulled away to wipe away your tears.

“It just reminds me of bad things. Everything Harry Styles related does. I mean he’s a great singer but I can’t stand to listen to his music anymore- hey! Did you see the bird?”

Harry let out a shaky breath, his heart squeezing in his chest. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. Cherry used to be your favorite song, he added it to the set list because of you. It had slowly become his favorite song, too.

-

“I’m so exhausted.”, you whined, but Harry let out an annoyed sigh. “I know, but you need to change. Sleeping in this dress will be so uncomfortable-“, he began, but stopped mid-sentence when he saw that you were slowly closing your eyes.

“Great.”, he whispered, not sure what he should do. “Okay. Breathe, Harry. Pretend this is one of your friends.”, he tried to assure himself, looking at your sleeping face while he unzipped your dress. He slowly pulled the dress down, keeping his eyes on your face and not looking down once. Harry took off his hoodie and the shirt he wore underneath it before he helped you put on his shirt. The way Harry tried to put on the shirt without looking down would probably be a bit awkward to watch, but Harry managed to do it anyways.

Harry draped the blanket on you and tucked you in properly before he sat down next to your bed and let the breath he had been holding out.

He felt like his insides were being squeezed together, like someone had taken all his air and he could barely breathe. His heart was beating impossibly fast and he was aware of his sweaty palms.

“H.”, you mumbled and Harry’s eyes widened. “Y/n?”, he whispered, but your eyes were closed. Were you.. dreaming about him?

Harry knew that he couldn’t watch you forever, that he’d eventually have to go, but he didn’t want this moment to end. He wanted to watch you forever.

He brushed some of your hair out of your face before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to you forehead, his lips lingering maybe a bit too long. “I’ll always take care of you, I promise.”

taglist: @st-ev-ie @hsstylesrings @bubblespower101 @ravisinghs-wife @mopeymousey @shishcabobsworld @stylesfever @valntynebaby @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @harryspirate @xxlunathewitchxx @hannah9921 @fingermonkey101 @amateurduck @babyiamperfectforyou @ravisinghs-wife @creativelyeva @fanficismydrug @manrocket-mo @crimeshowjunkie @lomlolivia @pagesfalling @harryssky1 @buckybarnessimpp @melancholy-help @annesauriol @tea-and-toast463 @sheslikeacurse @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @white-wolf-buckaroo @itsgigikay

#harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader

[luvrbug]

Hi! This one may be a bit sensitive so its alright if its not your cup of tea to write but! May I request

Killer or Law with an s/o who (due to their period) experiences extreme stomach pains and passes out from it. Sorry if its a bit extreme, it happens to me a lot 😅

(Maybe Killer is better on second thought Law might just medicate his S/O all day lol)

AS A PERSON WITH A UTERUS THAT LIKES TO KILL ME MONTHLY I COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND !!! I did just , general period headcanons ! i hope thats okay! and i included kata because i feel hed just be. so good at it you know ??

«────────«⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅»────────»

Killer

Killer is not entirely clueless on what happens every month... but he's far from the most experienced. But he's an incredibly fast learner when it comes to comforting you during hell week <3.

You will not be lifting a finger! Kid pirate member or not, killer is absolutely refusing to let you work while you're in this much pain. Kid keeps.. suspiciously silent.. about how little work you're doing.

His hands... HIS HANDS !!! They're warm, steady, and large enough to cover your entire abdomen and gently rub to soothe away the pains.

Killer absolutely is encouraging your period cravings. Pasta? He was feeling pretty hungry himself. Something sweet? His hand slipped, and he ... accidentally ... made a four layer cake!

Killer may not know everything, but he absolutely wants to make this time of month as easy as possible for you. He's just a big softie.

Law

He's a DOCTOR ! he obviously knows all of this, obviously. He's a doctor. Okay, Law really... isn't the best with the reproductive cycles. He's a SURGEON who studied a bit of practical medicine to take up the doctor role in his crew best.

Just because he hasn't learned anything YET doesn't mean he won't learn ever. Obviously, he knows you experience pain, bleeding, irritability, hormone imbalances, etc. But how can he help you feel better without expressing.... emotional vulnerability (eugh).

In the beginning of your relationship law just... leaves painkillers on the nightstand. Stashes chocolate in a certain spot of the kitchen he "accidentally" reveals to you. Changes the sheets while you go to clean yourself up. He's so painfully awkward with every cute, sweet thing he does. Its so endearing.

Later on in the relationship, Law begins to.. loosen up a bit more. He's still a blushing awkward tsundere mess as he does all these sweet things for you, but he's much more physically affectionate and ready to relax with you. Period week? Nah. Vacation week.

Katakuri

THE GOAT AT TAKING CARE OF A PARTNER ON THEIR PERIOD! He's got all those little sisters, and you expect him to be INEXPERIENCED????? No way. This man has made multi-million beri runs in the middle of the night to totto-mart just for tampons, pads, and chocolate. Just give him your order, babe.

But seriously, katakuri knows all the remedies! Even some you wouldn't think about. Heating pad? Done. Massage? Already got it set up. Cuddles and sweets? Impromptu meridena time.

Being a sweet commander has its perks, one of those being a massive, warm bathtub and whatever ridiculously expensive bath product you could possibly want. Katakuri WILL be pampering you.

Killer encourages cravings, but Katakuri goes all out. The kitchen staff shiver in fear when he puts in one of your meal requests. Full buffets, platters, all delivered to you in bed.

Katakuri takes full advantage of the "Excuse-me-my-spouse-is-in-pain" excuse to just. cuddle and spend time with you. He's such a softie <3.

#one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece reader insert #one piece scenario #one piece x you #one piece #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #katakuri x reader #katakuri imagine #charlotte katakuri x reader #katakuri #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law imagine #killer x you #killer x reader #massacre soldier killer x reader #tw periods #tw menstruation #tw menstrual cycle

[forest-hashira]

Noble Blood - Chapter Four

hello again friends! sorry the wait between chapters was so much longer than the last two. life has been..... messy, to put it lightly. but the chapter is finished now and i'm posting it before i overthink it too much. i hope you enjoy!

fic masterlist here | read on ao3 here | wc: 2.4k | cw: gender neutral reader, gojo being a drama queen, a little bit of yaga slander (by gojo), that's pretty much it.

Not much changed after the new year’s festival. Satoru went back to his training sessions with Yaga while you and the rest of your friends attended school and filled your free time however you saw fit. 

Winter quickly turned to spring, and before you knew it, the sakura trees were in full bloom, the soft pink-white petals dancing on the breeze and covering the streets, the delicate perfume from the blossoms filling the air and making everything seem brighter.

All of those things also reminded you of the sakura tree that grew outside of Satoru’s bedroom, and it made you miss him even more than you already did. But springtime had a habit of bringing hope and with it, and you allowed yourself to imagine things would get better soon, and you would be able to spend your days with Satoru as you used to. 

It felt almost too good to be true when you stepped out of your house one morning to see Satoru and Shoko waiting for you outside.

“Thank god you’re here,” Shoko said. “He’s been driving me nuts while we were waiting. Says he has big news, or something, but that’s all I can get out of him.”

“Because we don’t have everybody here yet!” Satoru said, sticking his tongue out at Shoko before turning back to you and smiling brightly. “C’mon, we have a couple more stops to make.”

Unwilling to question how or why your friend was able to come down from the estate and spend time with all of you again, you nodded, following eagerly after him as he headed off down the road, presumably to pick up Utahime, then to see the Nanami siblings. 

“Do you have any idea what he’s on about?” Shoko asked, leaning in a bit closer to you as the two of you followed the boy. 

The only thing you could think of was that Satoru had finally decided to tell the rest of your friends that he had Kenji, regardless of what his parents wanted; he’d bonded with Kenji nearly three months before, and you were the only person outside the Gojo clan – besides Yaga – that knew Satoru had his dragon.

“None at all,” you told her, offering an apologetic smile. 

She sighed, rolled her eyes. “I bet it’s not even anything important, he’s just tired of being cooped up at home and he wants us all to pay attention to him again.”

You said nothing in response, knowing that she was going to be absolutely floored when she found out about Kenji, though stifling your laughter over her words was hard.

“Are you guys talking about me back there?” Satoru asked, glancing over his shoulder at you and grinning. “I am the most interesting person you know, after all.”

“We’re talking about how annoying you are,” Shoko said, and her words were made even funnier by her completely deadpan delivery. Satoru scowled at her, sticking his tongue out for the second time that morning, and this time Shoko returned the gesture. All you could do was laugh at them.

It wasn’t long before the three of you reached Utahime’s house, and Shoko volunteered to be the one to knock on the door; Utahime and Satoru were friends, yes, but if she only saw him and didn’t know that anyone else was with him yet, the odds that she would shut the door in his face were high.

Utahime looked past Shoko with narrowed eyes at Satoru, though her expression relaxed when she saw you standing there with him, and after a moment she stepped outside to join the rest of you.

“What’s the ‘big news’ you have?” she asked your white haired friend suspiciously. 

“I can’t tell you yet!” he declared with a grin. “We have to go get Nanamin first.” It was still exceedingly funny to you that Satoru still insisted on calling Kento by a diminutive of his last name, rather than by his first name like the rest of you did. Kento didn’t find it all that amusing, but he never complained about it, either.

And so, off the four of you went, Satoru leading the way while the rest of you followed after him. As you all filed into the bakery, you were greeted warmly by Kento’s father, Ginger perched on his shoulder for the time being.

“Hello, Nanami-san!” Satoru chirped, offering the older man a slight bow in greeting. 

“Is Kento here?” Utahime asked curiously. 

His father nodded. “Yes, I believe he’s upstairs. Kokoro is resting right now though, I’m afraid. She had a bit of a fever last night and didn’t sleep very well.”

You and Utahime frowned at that and offered your condolences, while Shoko gave a slight nod; her parents, as the healers of the settlement, always seemed to get busier when the seasons changed.

“I’ll tell him you’re here,” your friend’s father said, before turning and stepping out of the bakery and up to his home on the second floor.

As the four of you waited for him, your gaze drifted to the cookies on the display trays; now that spring was well underway, some of the seasonal flavors had come back, and you were happy to see them. There were the plain shortbread cookies, as always, but there were others now, too: petal-pink cookies cut carefully in the shapes of the flowers that flavored them filled one tray, while another tray was lined with circle-shaped cookies you knew to be flavored with the same green tea your mother drank in the mornings. You must have been staring harder than you realized, because next thing you knew, Satoru was poking your cheek to get your attention.

“Hungry?” he asked, somewhat teasingly.

You rolled your eyes at his question. “They’re pretty,” you said after a moment. “I like seeing them every year.”

Satoru said nothing, just gave a small hum in response, but he looked up at Kento’s father with a smile once the man returned to the counter, his son trailing behind him. “Nanami-san, I’d like to buy some cookies before we all head out.”

You blinked at him in surprise, not having expected him to indulge you in such a way. He requested five of the sakura cookies and five of the matcha cookies – one of each flavor for each member of your group – and after tilting his head slightly towards his shoulder, as if he were listening to something, he also asked for one regular shortbread cookie.

Once the treats were paid for and wrapped up, Satoru accepted them and led everyone back outside, insisting he had something important to tell everyone.

“I bet it’s not even actually important,” Kento grumbled, though he did easily accept his share of the cookies as they were passed to him. He took a bite out of the matcha one, chewing it carefully and swallowing it before adding, “He just wants to feel important.”

If only you knew, you thought, but you said nothing; you doubted your white haired friend would forgive you anytime soon if you stole his thunder.

The group stopped once everyone reached the large, gnarled maple tree that stood about halfway between the bakery and the schoolhouse. Without any words being exchanged, Satoru sat with his back to the trunk, the rest of you sitting in a half circle in front of him.

“Will you please drop the theatrics now and just tell us already?” Utahime asked, somehow still scowling as she chewed on her cookie. 

Letting out a sigh that was very decidedly theatric, the boy relented. “Fine, fine, I suppose I’ve kept you all in suspense long enough.” He cleared his throat, sat up a bit straighter and, with a grin, announced, “I have a dragon.”

Before anyone even had time to call his bluff, Satoru pulled the plain shortbread cookie from the paper packaging, held it up closer to his shoulder, and said, “You can come out now, Kenji.”

Kenji, who apparently had a flare for the dramatic as much as Satoru did, poked his head out of the collar of the boy’s light jacket, then made a beeline for the cookie, climbing onto Satoru’s shoulder and taking the cookie into his mouth once it was within reach. 

“You’re welcome,” your friend pointedly told his dragon, when he got no sort of thanks for the treat. Kenji made a suspiciously mocking sound in response, though he never tore his attention away from the cookie he was nibbling on.

Throughout the whole exchange, your friends stared at Satoru and Kenji, eyes wide and jaws slack, as if unable to believe what they were seeing. Knowing you had probably looked very similar when you first saw Kenji, you had to stifle a giggle.

Shoko, who was sitting closest to you, noticed your muffled laughter, and she turned towards you, still wide-eyed. “You knew?” she asked incredulously. “You knew he had his dragon and you didn’t tell us?”

“He would’ve thrown a huge fit if I told you before he did!” you defended.

“My parents wanted Kenji kept a secret at first,” Satoru added, coming to your defense as well.

“But they still knew before the rest of us did!” Utahime cut in. “How is that fair?”

You didn’t have an answer for that, so you turned to Satoru, hoping your white haired menace of a friend had an answer that would satisfy everyone.

“Because they’re Satoru’s best friend,” Shoko said, before the boy could answer for himself. It was clear in the way she emphasized “best friend” that she meant something else, and though you weren’t sure what, you found your feelings were a bit hurt by…whatever the implication was; the confusion and hurt you felt doubled as you watched Shoko, Kento, and Utahime all exchange a knowing glance. You turned to Satoru then, assuming he would be just as confused as you were, but he’d got a bit red in the face, and was very pointedly not looking at you, instead focusing on Kenji as the dragon practically mauled the cookie he’d been given.

“What’s important is that I’m telling you guys now,” Satoru insisted, still failing to meet your eyes, though his gaze did flash in your direction for a brief moment. “Besides,” he added, “he’s not even that exciting yet. All he does is steal my food and pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m saying to him during training.”

Apparently taking great offense at the snowy haired boy’s words, Kenji turned to face Satoru, making a series of displeased noises that were clearly some sort of complaint. 

“You know it’s true— ow!”

At first you were shocked as you watched Kenji bite Satoru on the hand, but you relaxed when you realized he hadn’t actually broken the skin, and you laughed at how smug the little dragon looked, clinging to your friend’s arm and holding the cookie in his mouth as Satoru attempted to shake him off in retaliation for the bite. 

“How is training going?” Shoko asked curiously, tilting her head slightly and slowly chewing a bite of her own cookie as she waited for an answer. “I’ve seen your teacher in town some, he seems prickly.”

“Yaga-sensei is sooooo boring,” Satoru sighed dramatically, apparently deciding to forgive Kenji for biting him, at least for the time being. “He makes me do the same exercises every day.”

“Do you and Kenji have those exercises learned yet?” asked Kento.

“No.”

“Then that’s why you keep having to do them.”

“But it’s so boring!”

“What’s his dragon like?” you cut in, realizing then that the one time you’d met Yaga, he had not had a dragon with him.

“You mean Panda?” Satoru asked, his brows furrowed slightly as if he were deep in thought.

“He doesn’t have a dragon?”

“Where did he even get a panda, anyways?” Utahime added, her features pinched together in confusion.

“No, he does have a dragon. The dragon’s name is Panda,” Satoru explained with a small smile on his face. “But I agree, it’s a stupid name for a dragon.”

“I’m assuming Panda is black and white?” you asked, trying to steer the conversation away from possibly dissolving into pointless bickering.

“Obviously,” Satoru replied, rolling his eyes. When he caught the way you were scowling at him, though, he straightened up a bit. “Yeah, Panda’s black and white. He does actually look a lot like a panda, it’s weird.”

“Can he fly?” This time Kento was the one to ask.

“I don’t think so? He doesn’t have any wings, at least, and I’ve never seen him fly.”

As the rest of your friends tossed questions at Satoru about his training, about Yaga, about Panda, just trying to get a feel for how much of his life had changed in the last couple of months, you were more than happy just to listen, but you looked down when you felt something on your leg.

Unnoticed by everyone else – including Satoru – Kenji had made his way across the space between where he and his rider sat, all the way over to you, who he had apparently deemed a better companion for the time being.

You watched with a smile as the dragon steadily made his way up your leg, and you offered him your hand to give him a more direct path to your shoulder. That seemed to be all the invitation he needed, and he quickly scampered up your arm, settling on your shoulder as he finished the last piece of the cookie he’d been given earlier. 

After the dragon settled down in his new spot, you made an effort to move as little as possible, not wanting to jostle or upset him at all. You still weren’t sure why Kenji had taken a liking to you specifically and nobody else – besides Satoru, of course – but you tried not to question it too much; he didn’t seem to want anything from you, nor did it seem like he wanted to cause you problems, so you were content to let him seek you out whenever he saw fit. You may not have met your own dragon yet, but having caught the attention of your friend’s solid color dragon made you feel special.

Deep down you also hoped maybe it was a sign that you would meet your own dragon soon, and that maybe you’d be lucky enough to bond with a rare, special dragon, like Kenji.

for those of you who made it this far, first of all i want to say thank you for sticking around for the chapter updates! second, i want to let everyone know i'm going to be taking a break from this fic for a bit. i'm not sure how long, so i'm not going to give a time frame, but i literally frustrated myself to tears at least half a dozen times while writing this chapter, so i need to take a step back for a bit, before i frustrate myself to the point of fully giving up on this fic. i love this au, i want to keep writing this fic, but right now i need a break. i hope you'll all still be around when i'm ready to come back to it 💜

taglist: @ghost-1-y @kentohours @whatthefucksatan @why-the-fuck-am-i-so-tired @mitsuristoleme @lu-dao-writes @peachdues @lik0 @deepestartisanhumanoidshark @here-for-the-tea-baby @staryukis @roselleviennesstuff if your url is crossed out, it's because tumblr wouldn't let me tag you. i apologize!

#jjk fanfic #jjk au #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk reader insert #jjk #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo jjk #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader #gojo x gender neutral reader #dividers credit to cafekitsune #fallon's fics #noble blood #dragon rider au

[spiders-scare-me]

noir hcs

(these are hcs, not actual canon so these are things that are made up and NOT based off the comics)

hc him as 19 yrs old.

joined the spider society because he thought he maybe could do some good by helping others, only to regret it later. genuinely thinks Miguel is kinda a facist.

he also doesn’t regret joining the society because he got to spend time with Ham, Gwen, Peni, Hobie etc.

he and hobie bonded over similar views, became best friends for the last four ish months before Noir quit.

quit because he generally had a bad feeling about miguel, but got worse when he referred to robbie’s death as a canon event.( https://www.tumblr.com/lildoodlenoodle/720268522059612160/if-spider-noir-wasnt-kicked-off-the-elite-spider ) (based off of)

taught hobie how to pickpocket/steal things in different places/shops before he quit. especially shops in Noirs dimension where it was easier to put something in your pocket and leave without anybody noticing.

( https://www.tumblr.com/butevrythinggoesaway/719504366077345792/i-kind-of-headcanon-noir-as-having-kelptomania-so ) (inspired)

Miguel hates him, probably because Noir rivals him in size and also questions the way Miguel runs things around the spider society.

(Miguel is canonically 6’9 and i hc Noir as around 6’5)

Miguel once asked (very rudely) in front of hobie, if Noir only dated Hobie because he was similar to Robbie. You can only IMAGINE what Noir almost did (aka assassinate Miguel) before he was stopped by most spider people who are loyal to Miguel. Basically, Noir went even more crazy because of that since Miguel uses Robbie as a way to get to him.

Noir in fact didn’t want to date anyone because of some stuff that happened, but when he met Hobie and got to know him, he instantly fell in love.

Miguel simply hates Noir, but can’t fire him or kick him out for no reason so Miguel picks on him until he snaps.

he acts like Peni’s older brother, being protective of her. she became depressed after he quit the spider society because she really cared about him.

most likely smokes, Peni hates it and always takes his cigarette from him to put it out. has dumped water on him multiple times. Hobie also puts out Noirs cigarette when he sees him smoking.

humor is his coping mechanism, example (my interpretation of the scenes):

when miles said his uncle was the prowler, Noir responded with “this is a pretty hardcore origin story” which sounds like he’s trying to make the situation a bit lighter by joking a bit.

as well as when aunt may asked if they could fight doc ock outside, he replied with “We don’t pick the ballroom, we just dance”

another one: when he, peni and ham met gwen, miles and peter for the first time, peter asked noir how they got there and he answered with “it’s a long story” only to say right after “maybe not that long”

(I INTERPRET THIS AS HUMOR FIGHT ME)

Hobie paints Noirs nails from time to time because it seems to relax him.

used to wear glasses because he had such bad eyes but now that he sees better because of the whole spider thing, he wears them cuz they’re cool.

his favorite color is purple because of robbie. (angst obvi) ( https://www.tumblr.com/lildoodlenoodle/721163033344425984/me-watching-everyone-on-tumblrtiktok-say-spider )

(based off of)

his relationship with aunt may is so wholesome. she’s against him killing facists etc, but still loves him more than anything.

his style is absolutely IMMACULATE. ( https://www.tumblr.com/spiders-scare-me/723947203857694720/tried-to-find-references-for-30s-mens-fashion-and ) (based off my own post) ( https://www.tumblr.com/spiders-scare-me/723996134618628096/no-stfu-im-so-fucking-obsessed )

i tried :,) don’t bully me

i’ll post more later if it’s wanted obvi

credits to @lildoodlenoodle and @butevrythinggoesaway for the posts i linked <3

#noirpunk #spider noir #spiderman noir #punknoir #peter benjamin parker #spiderman headcanon #spidernoir headcanon #please i tried #peni parker #peter porker #spider ham #sp//dr #hobie brown #spider gwen #gwen stacy #miguel o'hara #robbie robertson #aunt may

[dljcem]

ೃ༄ Sunsetz

ponyboy curtis fluff alphabet

ik this isn’t a request but i couldn’t help myself. template by @/queervibesmydude !

warnings: not beta or proof read

a= admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

ponyboy loves your outlook on life. if you ask about it, he’ll say it’s because it makes you you, separates you from the crowd. he also likes your kindness; he hasn’t exactly met a lot of nice people throughout his lifetime. 

b= body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

his favorite would have to be your hands—he could hold them for the rest of his life and never tire of it.

c= cuddling (do they like to cuddle?)

it honestly depends on his mood. if its a bad day, he’ll want some space for himself. if not? he’s happy to hold you (or let you hold him) to your hearts content.

d= dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

movie date, all the way! he’ll take you to the nightly double, treat you to some food from the concession stand, and let you lay your head on his shoulder as you watch whatever’s playing<3

e= emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

he doesn’t always express his emotions out loud, especially when they’re negative. his body language is what gives him away; he can’t conceal it for the life of him.

f= family (do they want one? if so, when?)

family is a big aspect of his life. he has two biological brothers, and four non-blood related-ones. he knows for a fact he wants to start his own someday; have one or two kids, and a dog for good measure.

as for when, he prefers to wait until you’re both ready to settle down. so, probably a few years after college?

g= gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? what are their habits when it comes to this?)

he doesn’t care much for receiving them; he’d rather you show your affection through words or touch or simply spending time with him.

for the most part, he only gets you gifts on special occasions. your birthday, your anniversary, christmas, and so on. in his eyes, they’re more meaningful when given on certain days.

h= holding hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

he likes to hold your hand gently, trace imaginary shapes onto your knuckles with his thumb and whatnot. he’ll do it whenever he gets the chance to.

i= injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

his first thought—and priority—is to make it better. he’ll bandage you up before you can even ask him to. after that, he might be upset at himself for not being there. he’s tired of being so helpless when the people he cares for get hurt.

j= jokes (do they like to joke around with you or prank you? how?)

he doesn’t joke around much, unless he’s feeling particularly talkative. it’s just not his cup of tea. he does, however, make a lot of teasing/witty remarks—they come easier to him than jokes do.

k= kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

his kisses are as gentle as his hand holding. for the first few months of your relationship, they’re feather light, no more than a quick peck. it’s not until some time passes that he gets more comfortable with it.

l= love (how do they show they love you?)

words of affirmation and quality time. he spends all of his free time with you, even when you don’t have any plans for the day. he’s happy to just do nothing with you. he also compliments you a lot, tells you you look pretty and that you’re all he could’ve ever asked for.

besides that, he enjoys drawing you, if you don’t mind it. he considers you the perfect muse; you’re both pretty and motivating.

m= memory (favorite memory together?)

the first time you watched the sunset with him. it’d been completely unplanned; you just happened to see him sitting his porch on your way home. you joined him, because it was starting to get dark and you didn’t want to be all alone. when you weren’t looking, he stole glances at you—somehow you were even prettier than the orange hues of the sky. he knew he loved you then. he’d always known deep down, but that day he knew for sure.

n= nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

he’s afraid of losing you, as cliché as it sounds. you’re one of the few sources of stability in his life, and he’s not quite sure what he would do without you.

o= oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

he’s prone to spacing out at random times, since he can get lost in his thoughts quite easily. he’ll be reading to you one moment and pondering the meaning of life the next—you end up being responsible for bringing him back to reality more often than you’d like to.

p= pet names (what do they like to call you?)

he uses darling, my love, and babe sometimes. he usually just calls you by your name; there’s something strangely intimate about it.

q= quality time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

he doesn’t care what you’re doing, as long as you’re together. with that said, he especially enjoys hanging out at the dingo and reading with/to you.

r= rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

dream lover by bobby darin. the lyrics remind you of his tendency to daydream, as well as the emotions he harbors towards you. it also just sounds like a song he’d enjoy.

s= secrets (how open are they with you?)

he’s pretty open, albeit sometimes unintentionally. you get him talking like no other and once he starts he can’t stop. there’s certain things he’ll be more adamant about sharing, but he’ll ultimately do it anyway.

t = time (how long did it take you to get together?)

about 5-6 months. he knew he loved you long before then, he just wanted to make sure you reciprocated before acting upon his feelings.

u = upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

if you prefer to be alone when you’re frustrated, he’ll let you be. he might get a little sad that you don’t want him near, but he understands it’s nothing personal. he’ll check up on you once you’ve calmed down, keep his distance until you give him the green flag.

if you like to have someone with you, he won’t abandon your side no matter what. he’ll let you rant about your day and run his hands through your hair, something he deems to be soothing.

v = vaunt (what are they proud of? do they like to show you off?)

he doesn’t see any need to show you off. he’s proud of the relationship you’ve formed together more than he is of anything else, he’s just not that type of person.

w = warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

he doesn’t like to see you hurt, so he doesn’t always like it when you fight. he’s more than willing to fight for you and/or with you. so long as you’re not all roughed up afterwards.

x = x-ray (how well are they able to read you?)

he can tell how you’re feeling pretty quickly; he spends so much time with you he knows what all of your emotions look and sound like.

y = yes (how would they propose to you?)

he would likely do a more quiet proposal, something private with only the two of you. he wants the moment to be yours and yours only—no noisy friends, no overbearing family.

he’d take you to a pretty spot—a grassy field with flowers, or something along those lines—and bring some of your favorite foods for you to enjoy as you admire the view. then, when the nerves get the best of him, he’ll pull out the small velvet box in his pocket and ask the big question.

z = zen (what makes them feel calm?)

quiet moments spent with you. reading together, helping each other with homework, watching the stars at the lot. it’s not often you two get to be alone, so he cherishes the few times you can be.

#ponyboy curtis x reader #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy michael curtis #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy imagine #ponyboy headcanons #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders ponyboy #the outsiders fluff #c thomas howell #80s films #80s movies #1960s #1965 #fluff alphabet #greasers #dljcem

[ingravinoveritas]

Okay but is it a good thing for people to look at your family Christmas photo and say that it looks photoshopped and edited? Just wondering since so many people have that same thought over on twitter who believe that Georgia and Anna were edited in

It's been so overwhelming to see the response to these new pics. I am sure probably everyone has seen them by now, but I will put up the visual just in case:

I think I would agree with you that, in the most general sense, saying that someone's family Christmas photo looks Photoshopped/edited is probably not a positive thing. In the interest of fairness, looking at the pictures of the other people who were photographed at the event, it does seem like it was a problem with the lighting or editing overall that is affecting every photo, not just these pictures.

One thing I want to be clear on is that I think it's absolutely precious that Michael and David did this outing together, and are spending so much time together overall while Michael is in London. We had an inkling of that up until this point, but we literally went from a blurry photo to Michael and David gazing at each other across a crowded room on press night for Macbeth, to...this...in the span of less than a month. And I am glad that their kids are getting to spend time together and enjoy all of these holiday festivities as well. It's all very sweet and lovely, and in no way is it my intention to diminish that.

Thinking about the matching sweaters (jumpers), this is where I start to feel slightly less enthusiastic. It seems that the jumpers were Georgia's idea, which makes sense, as she previously had everyone wearing matching sweaters for a viewing party for "The Star Beast" (the first DW 60th anniversary episode). But having sweaters for Michael, AL, Lyra, and Mabli isn't an accident, or something that happens on the fly--it has to be planned. So for me, that makes it seem less like "spontaneous family outing" and more like "planned photo op meant to garner publicity."

What particularly gets me is that the both the matching sweaters for DW and the matching sweaters here feels like a gimmick...but Michael and David have never needed a "gimmick." Because Michael and David just being themselves has always been enough to be memorable. I'm not sure if Georgia thought she needed a gimmick to make herself and Anna stand out or what, but to me it almost feels like the sweaters are a diversion. As if Georgia perhaps knew the four them in a photo together would look awkward, so what better way to deflect than to give everyone something else to talk about. (Perhaps the same could also be said for Michael's hat, which...why, Michael? Haha.)

But it seems that Georgia's idea worked, because right after these pictures came out, an article was published about them in the Daily Mail. So all of this put together does give that feeling of being planned, especially because the four of them were so much the focal point of the DM article, more than any of the other celebrities at the event.

This brings me back to the aforementioned photos. Again, what seemed notable to me wasn't just what we did see, but what we didn't: No photo of Michael and Anna together, nor of David and Georgia, and not one of Georgia and AL, either. Instead, we have this group photo (where no one is actually touching and Georgia and AL's arms are awkwardly hanging side by side), and a photo of Michael and David where they are, with their arms around each other and Michael leaning into David, in contrast to his much stiffer posture in the group photo.

Looking at the Getty Images page, all of the other twosome photos are of couples, and none of them have the same unusual energy as Michael/David/Georgia/AL's group photo. So I do wonder if the fans pointing out the "Photoshopped" nature of the picture (and specifically that Georgia and AL appear to be edited in) have ever considered that maybe that is just how Georgia and AL look together. Because we're not talking about Staged, or social media posts. This is them, face to face, in real life, and the difference between Georgia and AL vs. Michael and David just seems pretty striking.

(I am also aware that there was another family photo that Georgia posted in an Insta story, and it is an incredibly cute picture, but I will say that what struck me is how Georgia and AL are pressed close together, but there is a very noticeable amount of space between Anna and David, and he seems to be giving off a lot of 'closed' body language (one hand in his lap, one folded behind him). Make of that what you will...)

So yes, those are my thoughts on the new pictures. I would love to hear any observations that anyone else has, of course, so feel free to share your thoughts in the comments. Thanks for writing in! x

#phantomstars24 #unforgivablengk #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #georgia tennant #i just think it speaks volumes that their 'family outing' ends with an article in the DM #especially because i'm not sure an article like that would be written on the fly #also Michael wearing the hat reminds me of when he dressed as Olaf when AL and the girls were in Frozen costumes for Lyra's birthday #instead of as the prince #using humor as a deflection #i could be completely wrong about all of this of course #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #anna lundberg #relationships #ineffable lovers #discourse

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

ayo! this time not as anon : D for olrox&richter au Olrox is having a bad day and Richter notices it, wanting to make him feel better he decided to draw him

(Young Richter gets captured by Olrox as revenge: a bittersweet found family AU)

You’re always here to provide me with Stockholm syndrome!Richie tings and I respect u for it 👏

.

No one ever said being a vampire was easy. Olrox certainly didn’t expect it to be that way, with his aversion to human foods and sunlight, but an immortal court was an obstacle he could never have prepared for, especially after a life in a tight-knit community of his tribe. It took him years to learn how to navigate it, and even more to earn any sort of respect in high society. Did he want to? Absolutely not, but a prestigious rank had numerous benefits, and poor Aztec needed every advantage he could find upon being turned against his will. Looking back on it, he’d been thankful for putting in the work, but moving in vampire circles brought new stressors.

“Welcome home sir. You and your…companion must be tired from the long journey, but. I must urge you to take a look at the letters in your study.”

Damned bureaucracy.

Olrox didn’t stay in his manor for long for these exact reasons. He needed an estate so he had a base of operations but the setback had been that now all vampires in England had an address to reach him through and as result, the man spent next three days going through documents sent to him in the past several months of his absence. Among them were numerous invitations to more or less lavish events, notices sent by the high council that notified of possible hunter activity in the countryside and, most pleasant, personal letters from acquaintances, welcoming him to visit them when he gets the time. This is certainly not how he planned on spending his first week back home.

A rather obnoxious knock on the door alerted him to the boy before he barged in without permission, horrified maids at his heels.

“Uhhh hello!? You forgot I was there or something!?” He exclaimed, crossing his arms as the human staff tried urging him out of the room, thinking they’re about to witness a bloodbath. “You dropped me off at my room and disappeared! What’s that about?!”

Olrox motioned the maids to leave, and only now did Richter notice the uncharacteristic bleakness of his skin. “I’m sorry child, but being a vampire does not absolve me of my duties to the nobility.” He then nodded at the papers all over his desk and floor.

Richie carefully stepped over them as he approached. “What do you even do for the "nobility"? Are you saying you have a job?”

“Of sorts.”

“What do you do?”

“All kinds of things.”

Richter huffed. “Right. Not creepy at all.”

Olrox pinched the bridge of his nose. “Richter, please. I don’t have it in me to deal with your attitude right now. The house is yours, find yourself an activity for the time being, just don’t run off. The wildlife is agressive in these parts.”

The sheer exhaustion in the Aztec’s voice convinced Belmont to drop the sass, before looking back at the mess. Did he even take a break?

Olrox sighed in relief when he heard the door close and silence that followed.

.

The responses have at last been sent, and the documents organised. The study was cleaned and now all Olrox needed to do was rest, as he’d been on his way to transforming into an actual corpse these past four nights, but not before he checks up on Richter. Poor boy must be dying from boredom himself.

And that’s when he heard it, a crunch of paper beneath his heel. Kneeling, Olrox retreated a piece of paper and turning it over, he barely stifled a wheeze.

It was a drawing, clearly done by a child, of the man holding a noble by his neck. The noble was a vampire, if the big fangs were anything to go by, and that puffy, ridiculous wig reminded him of the immortal he had to deal with at the ball in Versailles, where little Richter had almost become a victim to an ignorant Duke. How sweet of him it was, to immortalise the moment he’d publicly threatened him into a fine piece of art.

Olrox could practically feel colour come back to his face as he allowed himself to laugh. The light Richie brought into his life truly had an effect on him that no blood could ever provide.

#castlevania #castlevania nocturne #castlevania au #castlevania fanfiction #castlevania richter #richter belmont #nocturne richter #castlevania richter belmont #castlevania olrox #olrox castlevania #nocturne olrox #Olrox