#it always makes me happy seeing them all together

[swiftispunk]

spring breaks loose | joel miller x f!reader

a your summer dream one shot

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

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

–Shirley Jackson, We Have Always Lived in the Castle

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

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

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

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

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

january

-

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

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

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

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

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

Joel sighs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

"She's younger than Sarah."

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

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

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

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

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

Joel nods. 

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

Your father doesn't respond. Joel sighs.

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

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

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

He contemplates his next words carefully. 

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

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

"Costa Rica was months ago, Joel."

Joel sighs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

four months later

-

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

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

"Those are new."

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

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

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

Joel Miller has tulips in his garden.

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

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

"She picked the pink."

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

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

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

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

Of course Joel Miller has tulips in his garden. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As ever, Joel notes your demeanour. 

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

You sigh.

"Just nervous."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't know about that."

"I do."

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

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

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

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

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

You nod resolutely as you unravel yourself from his hold. 

"'Kay. Thank you."

"Good luck, baby girl."

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

-

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

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

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

And that's…true, you suppose.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You look amazing," she says.

"Thanks."

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

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

"Why don't I just–I mean, I have to–"

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

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

You swallow tightly. "I know."

"Can I…would you let me explain?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least it had all brought you to Joel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I never thought that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

At that, you scoff mirthlessly. Of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No way! Tell me everything."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, babe."

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

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

"Maybe, yeah."

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

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

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

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

Everything good? reads a text from Joel. 

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

Take yr time. Love you.

love you too.

-

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

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

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

"Right," you grin. 

"So like…what's the sex like?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good. You deserve that."

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

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

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

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

You almost squirt your drink out through your nose. 

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

-

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

You also miss Joel.

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

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

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

"Which one?" you giggle. 

"The one on the left!"

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

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

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

"That doesn't sound right."

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

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

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

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

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

Heather shakes her head.

"I have a better idea," she winks.

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

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

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

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

"Fuck, yeah–whiskey alright?"

"Tequila," Heather smirks definitively.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goddamnit, you miss Joel. 

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

"You want another drink?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Much to your relief, Mike smiles, seemingly unbothered. 

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

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

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

-

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

"Hi, baby boy!"

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

"Hey, sweetheart," he smirks.

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

"Hi," you whine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No shit."

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

"Watch it, Miller."

Joel grins. 

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

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

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

"Can I finish my story, please?"

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

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

"And?" he presses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sure enough, you're asleep. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck," he hisses as he bottoms out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he's done being careful. 

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

"Please."

That's all he needs to hear.

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

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

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

"Yesyes, fuck, yes Joel, I'm coming–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's got no fucking idea what for. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

"Uh-oh," Joel grins. 

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

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

"Sure," Joel nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff and wave him off. 

"Whatever. But don't you agree?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

On Sunday, it rains.

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

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

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

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

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

And Joel thinks you're too good. 

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," you nod. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart just about stops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Huh.

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

"Hm," she nods.

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

"What?" you press her.

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

"He drove you here?"

You frown. "Yes?"

"Kind of a far drive in the rain."

"So?"

She ignores you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

chapter vibes:

Sometimes life really feels like a dream. 

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

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

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

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

"Impatient," he mutters. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[midnightorchids]

I love you and your writing. It makes me so happy to read your works!

Imagine Jason having his s/o move in with him. Imagine all the possibilities.

Like arranging the furniture together, showering together, taking turns cooking.

Or taking power naps together. I love me some soft Jason.

Omg stop!!! You’re literally so kind! Thank you for sending all these little scenarios, I always have so much fun writing them. Also, my apologies for getting back to you so late, I hope this little blurb makes up for it, enjoy reading!

Jason stares at the small key in his large calloused hands and then at charcoal door in front of him. This is it, he thinks to himself. He runs his hands through his hair and then shifts his gaze to your face, it’s beaming with excitement. Jason tries to hold back his smile, but finds himself unable to do so. He reaches over to your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

He’s waited for this moment for a long time. He’s dreamt of owning a place with you, of days where the both of you will go to sleep together and you’ll still be there in the morning. He’s dreamt of making you breakfast and kissing your forehead before you go to work or school and then have you come right back home… to him.

Jason’s emotional honestly, there’s something so tender and domestic about the idea of building a life together in this apartment.

The apartment, it’s not very big and the walls are an awful shade of grey. The paint is chipping in some places and there’s some obvious water damage. But none of that matters because it’s yours. It’s your home and that thought alone is enough for you and Jason to be happy.

You’re both sitting in the empty kitchen, unpacking your boxes and Jason can imagine spending the rest of his life here with you.

He takes a mental picture of the moment, tucking it deep in his mind and engraving it in his heart. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since he walked in through the door, he feels content, at peace.

You and Jason spent weeks scavenging through different vintage shops to find the perfect decor and furniture. There were countless trips to Ikea and multiple trips to the mall.

All of it was coming together now.

The thought of saying “our home” instead of “my house” made Jason feel giddy. He finally had a place to call his own with a person who felt like serenity.

Hours go by and you’re still working on getting your new place sorted.

You’re both sprawled out on the living room floor, putting together your new coffee table. There’s screws scattered across the floor and bubble wrap on the couch. There’s music playing on one of your phones as the speaker is still packed away in one of the boxes.

“This is so much fun! It’s like building life size legos,” Jason suddenly exclaims and you stare at him unamused, the hours of working finally catching up to you.

“Shut up Jay! You’re talking too much, I lost my page again,” you reply looking back at the paper manual in your hands, trying to find your page again. Jason looks up at you with a small pout.

“Don’t be mean, you know I’m sensitive,” he tries to say seriously, but the little smile on his face says otherwise. you shuffle over to his side on the floor and ruffle his hair.

“Aw I’m sorry baby, I’ll be nicer,” you say, realizing it might be time to take a break. “Should we postpone building furniture for a bit, I’m starving.” His face lights up and before you know it, he’s already in the kitchen gathering ingredients to make you soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. There’s not much in the fridge, but he’ll make do with what’s there.

You stare at him from across the room and this time, it’s your turn to click a mental photograph of the moment. He looks beautiful in your new kitchen, his hair’s messy, it’s in his eyes and he takes a second to push away the bangs. Then, he continues working away near the stove, humming along to the song playing on your phone. You can’t help, but admire him. You look forward to seeing him like this forever.

You make your way over to the kitchen and take a seat on the island counter, opposite to the stove. Jason tosses the final bit of ingredients in the pot and lets everything simmer. He looks over at you, leaning against the counter. He crosses his large arms against his body, his face soft and relaxed.

“I’m really happy, you know,” he says, grinning, and you scrunch your face into a big smile.

“I know Jay, I’m so happy too.”

#i actually wrote this on my train ride home from uni lol #jason todd #red hood #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanon #batfam

[ham1lton]

summer came like cinnamon (so sweet)

pairing(s): logan sargeant x reader. oscar piastri x reader.

warnings: mentions of mental health, dieting, fractured friendships and constant mention of jim’s ice cream parlour. also different povs, it goes through the minds of all three of the main characters.

summary: after their rookie season, in a bid to repair their friendship, the two drivers decide to take their new paycheques and go explore the sun, sea and sands of greece. what they didn’t anticipate was to bump into you.

wordcount: 5.6k

author’s note: this is my first semi-interactive fic, please give it some love <3 any major issues in travelling and stuff like in terms of logistics? please ignore. also let me know who you’re planning on choosing. team oscar or team logan?

— wanna be updated on the next parts? join my taglist! —

— part one of the summer lovin’ series. —

[ i ain’t a kid no more / we’ll never be those kids again ]

logan didn’t know why he was so overwhelmed with anxiety, when he knocked on oscar’s door on that rainy thursday night.

this was his oscar, the oscar that had practically grown up with him. the one who knew how he liked his toast and that he was fond of a burger with all the extras. that he had a scar on his left ankle from when he was a kid and wrestled with his brother after watching too much wwe.

ever since he had signed to williams and oscar had been a mclaren driver, they had hardly talked in comparison to their pre-formula one days. when he had crashed out during a race, he half expected oscar to text him or come knocking on his hotel door.

he didn’t. logan pretended he wasn’t surprised.

fuck it. bite the bullet. he lifted his hand high and knocked on the door. three quick taps in succession.

“one moment!” oscar called from inside. logan would wait, even if that old lady from room 135 kept looking at him like he was an intruder. maybe he was. he hadn’t been in oscar’s room for a while.

oscar opened the door with messy hair and a shirt that had been clearly shoved on before he opened the door.

“logan? hi.” oscar swallowed. the awkwardness in the space between the two of them felt heavy. “you okay mate?”

“yeah! yeah.” logan fake laughed, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. “just wanted to come see you.”

“i’m here.” oscar grinned, with no teeth, at his own joke. “wanna come in?”

“sure. kinda awkward talking in the hallway anyways. that old lady is about five minutes from calling the cops on me.”

“oh that’s just brenda.” oscar said after leaning out and getting a glance at the woman, who waved at him. he waved back. “she’s harmless.”

logan followed oscar into his room. it was bigger than his and he didn’t know if feeling jealous was appropriate. he had felt many emotions when it came to oscar; happy, sad, angry, and others. he didn’t want jealousy to join the list.

“sorry, my room is a mess. i wasn’t expecting company.” oscar laughed with no heart behind it as he sat down on his unmade bed. “take a seat logan, you’re giving me anxiety just standing around.”

logan immediately sits down on the desk chair.

“so, what are your plans for the summer?”

“mine?” oscar thinks to himself. “probably just to go see my family and my friends back home.”

“i was thinking maybe we could, i don’t know.” logan bites his lip anxiously. “do something together?”

“like what?” oscar is curious now, his eyes focused.

“maybe go on that european holiday we always talked about? we have the money now and no parents to tell us no like last time.” logan speaks in a rush. “but obviously if you say no, dude that’s totally fine.”

logan looks at oscar, who’s actually considering it? he thinks to himself for a moment before turning to logan.

“how many days?”

“as long as you’d like.”

“where would we go?”

“anywhere you’d want.”

“make a decision, logan. i’ll say yes or no.”

“we always wanted to go to greece? how about there? maybe for three weeks?”

“we should go for a month. we can travel.”

wait. so that means? oscar’s face is still impassive. he doesn’t say yes or no, but he is still considering it. that’s a positive.

“that’s fine. i’m flexible.”

“i’ll plan it.” oscar nods.

“so is that a yes?”

“obviously.” oscar finally smiles, open and dazzling. logan grins too, allowing himself to bask in the approval. he was almost 67% sure that oscar would say no. he’d already done the maths, but it wasn’t his strongest subject anyways.

“i’ll text you the details.” oscar nods and logan gets up, running a hand through his hair. giddy with happiness that he’ll finally win his best friend back. this’ll be the trip that heals them. that heals him.

-❀-

oscar gets stressed when he’s not in charge. everything has to go through him. the plans, the schedule and especially the driving. he’s never liked being in the passenger seat. his hands get fidgety and he doesn’t know how to calm them down.

he’s lucky that logan is all too happy to sit in it, his eyes focused on making the perfect road trip playlist. for some reason, they’d decided to drive from london all the way down to munich.

they’d already driven down from london and through the eurotunnel and took a break sightseeing in france - which oscar had already scheduled for. they ate their weight in croissants. they ate steak and frites. logan had bought them matching ‘i ♥︎ paris’ t-shirts and oscar rolled his eyes but packed it neatly in his suitcase anyways.

they hadn’t talked about anything other than surface level topics. logan talking about his favourite sports teams, them both discussing the grid and plans for the upcoming season and the usual small talk about their family’s wellbeings.

they didn’t talk about how they ignored each other unless a camera necessitated a conversation. they didn’t talk about logan’s bad season. they stayed up till stupid hours watching badly dubbed french movies and ordering takeout.

they drove to germany, dropped off their rental car and then got a plane from munich to athens. it wasn’t very long at all but logan still curled up against the window and tried to sleep. they were both connected to the spotify account on logan’s phone - logan using his headphones and oscar with his airpods. their road trip playlist still playing.

oscar didn’t know why he didn’t take them out, even when the playlist inevitably repeated itself.

-❀-

they’d been in athens all of two days when they met you. logan had gone an insanely bright red when he’d forgotten his sunscreen had ran out. oscar laughed at first but then ran to the nearest pharmacy to grab emergency sunscreen and aloe vera for the both of them.

after slathering themselves, they’d decided to seek refuge in a small ice cream store. despite the hot weather, the store was almost completely empty besides the two of them and you. you were fiddling with your phone in the corner as you attempted to hook it up to the speakers.

“fuck’s sake!” you shout quietly, frustratingly trying to make it work. “i can’t do this shift without any music. my thoughts’ll drive me insane.”

“um?” oscar breaks the awkward silence. you jump and turn around. the first thing that they both notice is that you’re pretty. really pretty. even in the unflattering oversized neon green work t-shirt.

“sorry! sorry! i apologise. i didn’t think anyone was in the shop. please forgive me.” you look flustered as you move to quickly wash your hands and dry them. “what would you both like today?”

to be honest, logan hadn’t been thinking about the ice cream. oscar didn’t need to think, he was going to get his usual order.

“can i get two scoops of mint chocolate chip?”

“oh that’s disgusting. i forgot that you eat that.” logan shakes his head in shock.

“it’s good. you’re just a hater.” oscar rolls his eyes. “stick to your boring vanilla.”

“it’s a classic!” logan turns to you and asks for two scoops of vanilla and one scoop of mango. you smile and begin to start their orders.

“you guys aren’t from around here, are you?” you ask.

“nah. the accents give it away?” logan laughs as he slings an arm around oscar’s shoulder. oscar rolls his eyes again but makes no move to push him away.

“yeah. a little bit.” you pinch your fingers together as you say it. “i’m not really from here either.”

“no?” oscar replies this time, curious.

“international student. this was one of the few places that’d hire me with my insane schedule. i’m lucky i have the next month off, thankfully.”

“aren’t you going back home?”

“i could if i wasn’t scheduled to work here practically every day for the next month.” you finish logan’s order and move on to oscar’s. you shrug. “and i need the money. the job could be worse really, i just wish the speaker fucking worked and the air conditioning. luckily i stand close to the ice cream.”

“what do you study?”

“archaeology.”

“best place for that is probably here.”

“yes. i don’t know why but ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to come to greece and study here. this is the less glamorous side of it but i’m here doing what i love.”

“that’s all that matters right?” logan chimes in. you nod as you scan their orders into your till.

“that’ll be €7.62.” you say. “cash or card?”

“cash.” oscar says as he pulls out his wallet. he’s infinitely glad he’d prepared and went to the cash exchange in london before he’d left. logan doesn’t even bother to offer, he picks up his ice cream and starts to eat it.

oscar hands you the cash as logan moves to a booth right by the open door to take advantage of the breeze. you count back the change and place it right in his hand. his heart doubles a beat as your hands touch for a moment but the moment is broken as your phone suddenly decides that now is the time to work.

the speakers start blaring natasha bedingfield’s ‘pocketful of sunshine’. you curse, close the till with your hip and turn to fiddle with the playlist.

oscar thinks he’s a little in love.

-❀-

logan knows that oscar likes you, which is a problem because he likes you too.

this road trip was supposed to be about finding themselves, not finding you. yet, when they find themselves back in your ice cream store the next few days, it’s no coincidence.

“you’re back again! the american and australian.” on day four, you’re not alone this time. you have a colleague, a girl who’s slightly older than you. she smirks at the two of them like she knows a secret they don’t know. “i’m not the only international one here!”

the speakers seem to work normally today, playing elton john as you hum along with it. your colleague decides that it’s time to take her lunch break, slipping off her apron and leaving the three of you to it.

“same thing as every day? or are we changing it up?”

“what do you recommend?” logan asks earnestly. he’s not losing oscar to you, maybe if he charms you enough, you’ll pick him. he doubts you will.

“everything is good here but if you really want my opinion? the chocolate fudge is a real crowd pleaser.”

“i’ll take two scoops of that and oscar’ll just have mint chocolate.” logan pulls out his wallet, opens it to find a mix of euros in there. he takes a moment to pick at the right change when you shake your head at him.

“no, it’s fine. it’s on the house today. i’m in a good mood.”

“why?”

“a lot of reasons. you know what? i forgot that i didn’t even introduce myself. i’m y/n.”

“we know.” oscar is amused.

“how? are you psychic? i used to know a psychic once and i also watched that’s so raven. great show.”

“your name badge.” logan nods at your shirt as he eats a spoonful of ice cream. you were right, it’s amazing. not too sickly but just the right amount of chocolate.

“oh.” you bite your lip in embarrassment as oscar takes his ice cream.

“i’m oscar and the american is logan.” logan smiles and waves his free hand at you. “is the shop always this empty?”

“no. it’s really busy after school and at peak times. you just always come quite early. lucky. it’s hell in here when it’s busy.” you seem relieved for the topic change. “you both here on holiday?”

“yeah. a break from our jobs.”

“lucky. my best friend is back home and i wish she was with me. she’s planning on coming up at some point thankfully. i hate being here without all my friends.”

“i can be your friend.” logan says. then he immediately regrets it. what if you think that he’s a weirdo? but when your face lights up, he realises that regret was a fleeting feeling.

“i’d love that. let me take your number. one of the guys from my class is hosting a beach party tonight if you both wanna come.”

logan looks at oscar who shrugs as if to say ‘i don’t mind if you don’t’. logan turns back to you, who is the middle of unlocking your phone and grins.

“we’ll be there.”

he types his number in your phone and sends a message to himself to save yours.

“i’ll text you the details.”

the speaker interrupts the moment that you have as it starts to malfunction. you curse again and throw your hands up in annoyance.

“stupid fucking speaker! so stupid!”

-❀-

the party is already well underway, when oscar and logan arrive. logan didn’t bother with buttoning up his shirt. he wasn’t necessarily the most confident man in the world but he was comfortable with his nakedness in a way that oscar didn’t think he’d ever be. oscar was in a undershirt with a loose overshirt.

you finally make your way over to them, panting slightly. you’re wearing a plain white bikini with an open oversized orange and yellow patterned hawaiian shirt. your hair is free from the bun they’ve seen you in work with. you smile, easy and happy.

“my two favourite customers!” you sling an arm around the two of them, hugging them so close that they can smell your perfume. “come on, let me introduce you to the five other people i know.”

you lead them down to the bonfire, where three girls and two other guys are crowded around. they cheer when you arrive with the two of them.

“guys, this is oscar and logan.” they wave politely. “oscar and logan, this is anya, jerome, alex, sienna and jaya.”

the group all cheer and welcome the two guys. it’s clear that everyone is already buzzed. oscar has never really been a big drinker so he declines a beer when offered. logan shotguns it, the residue dripping down his face. you laugh and attempt to wipe it off his face. logan goes lax in your touch and oscar can’t watch anymore.

the speaker that someone played is playing shakira as the two of you giggle in your own little world. oscar turns to jerome? or was it alex? and starts a conversation. talking about some footy game that they were watching earlier. oscar is about as into football as the next guy, but he really needs to focus on something else besides the two of you.

oscar knew that logan had always harboured some sort of inferiority complex when it came to the two of them, but logan had something that oscar doesn’t think he’d ever have - being genuinely likeable.

oscar knew he’d have to win because no one would support him as a loser. logan is just likeable regardless of what position he’s in - an underdog if he loses and a force of nature when he wins.

likeable gets the girl.

-❀-

you decide to walk the two of them to the end of the beach. the night is inky black and the only light is the remnants of the bonfire you’d lit earlier. logan is buzzed, oscar is distant and you’re still vibrating from the fact that logan made the two of you run into the cold water with him in the middle of the night.

“tonight was fun! i’m glad you were both able to make it!” you lean in and hug them both goodbye. logan swears you’d lingered a little longer while hugging him. “i’ll see you both at jim’s ice cream?”

“what is that?” logan asks bluntly. oscar elbows him lightly, not hard enough to cause damage but just enough to wind him slightly.

“the ice cream parlour she works at dumbass.” he turns to you. “we’ll see you there”

“well, i do work there. so yeah.” you laugh. all twinkly and bright. then you’re waving and jogging back to your friends. oscar watches logan look at you and sighs.

“come on man, let’s get you back.”

-❀-

logan wakes up with a hangover the next morning. oscar is a good friend and runs to the continental free breakfast and sneaks him out some waffles, croissants and eggs. he walks to the pharmacy again, paying for some ibuprofen (at least he hopes that’s what it is) with his cash and runs to the corner store to grab some extra snacks.

logan’s eyes are wide with both joy and disbelief. joy that something is there for his splitting headache and disbelief that oscar would do that for him. oscar feels a little ball of guilt unravelling inside. how bad had he let their friendship become?

they spend the day inside for the most part. watching television together. then they go outside to the pool, logan immediately jumps in but oscar sits on the side. he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the texts that he’s been ignoring. the ones from some friends, his mum, and you?

it’s not a coincidence right? that you spent the whole evening with logan and text him the next day?

he holds the phone close to his chest. he doesn’t want logan seeing this. he doesn’t know why that is. he quickly texts you back. then logan shouts.

“hey oscar! come in! the water is gorgeous.”

oscar grins and slips into the water, keeping his shirt on.

-❀-

the two of them end up at the steak restaurant together that night. they’re both dressed as nicely as possible. oscar in a nice sweater and logan in a dress shirt. the maître d’ smiled knowingly at the two of them and led them to their table.

“he thinks we’re together.” oscar whispers to logan.

“are we not?”

“we are in the literal sense. i meant in the romantic, relationship sort of sense.” logan laughs and bats his eyelashes all coy.

“oh no! oscar are you breaking up with me?”

“obviously. i’m leaving you for my secretary.” oscar’s deadpan voice just makes logan laugh harder.

“i knew it, that skank! i’ll get him fired.” oscar laughs too, breaking out into an easy smile that comes easily when logan’s around.

the sounds of the restaurant move around the two of them as they peruse the menu for a long time. it’s been a while with no conversation when oscar bites the bullet and brings it up.

“hey.” logan looks up. “i’m sorry.”

“for the secretary? don’t be. i’m running away with the pool boy.” oscar shakes his head, smiling.

“no.” oscar says. “for what happened. letting our friendship fall to the sidelines. i didn’t mean it but it didn’t excuse it. i really do like being your friend logan. i wouldn’t jeopardise that.”

logan is silent. oscar wonders if he’s crossed some unspoken line. he bites the inside of his cheek and looks at the wall of the restaurant’s decor. it’s all dark in here. would it kill them to buy some light bulbs? he understands its for ‘ambiance’ and that shit but he’s worried that he won’t be able to find his steak in the darkness.

“i was gonna say i was sorry. i thought it was my fault. that you didn’t want to be friends with,” he cuts himself off, laughing awkwardly. “a loser.”

“no. that wasn’t it. you’re not a loser, not to me.”

“i am. that’s a fact. it’s okay. you’re very nice for that but, it’s just not true.” logan swallows thickly. “now, should i get potatoes or fries as my sides?”

oscar doesn’t comment on logan’s facial expression, that he looks like he’s holding it together by a thread. he knew emotional vulnerability took a lot out of him but it was harder on the person who admitted failure.

“potatoes.” logan grins and nods before calling over the waiter.

-❀-

the next time you saw the two guys was two days after the bonfire party. they came in laughing at a joke that had happened way before they had even walked in. you find yourself standing up as soon as they enter.

“hi! y/n!” logan’s smile is always wide and happy to see you. oscar’s smile is muted but it’s still sweet. “what would you recommend for me? i liked the chocolate fudge.”

“hmm,” you think, running your hand along the counter. “we have a new flavour, chocolate covered raspberry? it’s quite popular. i think you’d like it.”

“i trust your judgement, ice cream girl.”

you crack a smile at the nickname, the smile so big that it momentarily hurts your face for a moment. you turn to oscar.

“and what about you?”

“same as usual, two scoops of vanilla.”

you nod, getting to work on the ice creams. you even offer to pay for them but they argue, threatening to shove it all in the tip jar anyway. oscar pays and when your back is turned, logan shoves twice the amount into the tip jar.

“wanna sit with us in the booth today y/n?” logan asks, taking a spoonful of his ice cream. “it’s not like anyones here.”

oscar looks up at you with his wide eyes, not really eating his ice cream. he just swirls it, until it turns into a sort of thick soup. you shrug and slide into the booth across from the two of them. you don’t have anything else to do and if a customer does decide to walk in? well, you’ll just slide back behind the counter.

“so, what’s your plan for the future?” logan grins. “and i know it’s the worst possible question to ask any young person but i’m curious. what’s the goal? is there one? it’s okay if there isn’t.”

“dream is to become an archeologist and backup plan? i don’t know. work in an office or something? maybe teaching. i haven’t thought that far ahead just yet.” you bite your lip and look out the window for a second. the day is hot, and you’re stuck inside. “what about you two? what do you do?”

“we uh, we drive.” logan looks at oscar.

“oh like uber? cool.”

“yeah, isn’t it?” oscar smiles at you.

“i still haven’t gotten my licence just yet. taxis aren’t too expensive and public transport is decent. also everywhere i need to be is pretty much walkable.” you smile at them. “have you visited all the touristy places yet?”

“not everywhere but we’re here for a while. we’re going to travel to santorini, mykonos and corfu. i’ve already planned them out.” oscar swallows his bite of ice cream. “scheduled to the exact moment we get there and get back.”

“an exotic european vacation.” you grin, waggling your eyebrows. logan laughs despite the joke not being very funny. “i’m jealous.”

“you could come with us.” oscar blurts out, his cheeks pinkening. “you’re probably busy though right? don’t worry about it. it’s weird.”

“no, no. it’s not. it’s very sweet and tempting.” you look outside the window again. “i’m not free for the whole time, but, definitely i could join you for a week? jim won’t care.”

“jim’s a real person?” logan asks, eyes wide. you laugh.

“yeah! he’s british actually. came over here when he retired and bought this place. he was one of the few people that’d hire me. my mum’s british.” you nod. “it’s a pretty decent job. if you ignore these hideous uniforms.”

you pull on the neon jim’s ice cream parlour shirt, face crumpling in disgust.

“you look good.” logan says, shyly, as he tongues the last of his ice cream. “this is good too. the ice cream. i knew i trusted you for a reason.”

-❀-

santorini is exactly like the instagram photos. well, despite being slightly too hot, a little less vibrant and he’s here with you and logan. logan has kept his shirt on this time, a loose linen blue one with a pair of shorts and flip flops. you’re dressed in a white skirt, a cropped tank top with a massive handbag.

oscar wants to do something crazy, like reach out and hold your hand or put his arm around your shoulders. he doesn’t because he’s not insane but he thinks about it for a solid moment. thinks about the way you’d curl into him or the way your shampoo would smell. he shakes his head.

“you don’t like it?” the two of you turn to look at him. fantastic. now he looks weird. his eyes widen.

“no, no! i love it. it’s lovely.” he reaches into his pocket, shaking hands grabbing his phone as he takes a picture. “i was thinking about the best angle to take this picture for my mum.”

“i’ll take a photo of you against the backdrop? maybe the both of you. your mum might like that. logan said you two were childhood best friends right?”

oscar nods. at least you bought his story. he stands against the barrier and smiles, awkwardly. he’s sure that all the other tourists are looking at him and thinking ‘what a weirdo, his crush on her is so obvious. she wants his best friend clearly, why even try?’

after a moment, logan stands next to him. logan dissipates the awkwardness with a wave of his hand and the two of them fall into an easy grin. when logan leans in and tells a joke, oscar finds himself laughing loudly with the click of your camera as background noise.

he sends it to his mother later on, when he’s in his hotel room with logan snoring in the room across from him. she texts him back quickly.

-❀-

— from mum.

well, it looks like you’re having fun honey!

— to mum.

yeah, i am.

-❀-

it doesn’t even feel like a lie when he messages her back in the cooling heat.

-❀-

it’s three days into the trip and two weeks into knowing the guys that you realise that you have a crush. it’s only a small inkling but you know it’s serious because no matter how much you try to dissuade it, it keeps popping up.

when you’re eating, when you’re brushing your teeth and even when you’re picking your outfit with him in mind. does he like blue? is he more of a yellow guy? or is it pink that’ll catch his eye?

the three of you head to a restaurant that night. it’s a seafood place, the three of you laughing and joking about something you’d seen earlier. they look good. smell good too. they even argue over who’s going to pay for the meal and look at you like you’ve got three heads when you offer to pay.

“it’s fine y/n, you’re a student.” oscar says, smiling as logan gives up. he pays quickly, all cash with no fuss. “we can get it.”

“ubering must make you a lot of money.”

“yeah. something like that.” he smiles again. this time with no teeth as he gets the receipt.

-❀-

logan goes to bed early that night, citing something about his family being desperate to check up on him. it leaves just the two of you outside in the corfu evening air.

“want to go for a walk?” you ask, looking at him earnestly.

“yeah. sure.” he’s trying not to be too eager. not to scare you off. the two of you start walking down the street.

“i always like to go for a slow walk after a big dinner. i feel like it probably helps with digestion.” you speak quietly, as if not to disturb the silence of the street. he likes your voice and is willing to listen at any volume you decide.

“i think it does. i try not to eat too much.” oscar responds, shoving a jittery hand in his pocket. “i can’t gain any weight for my job.”

“yeah, logan said. that’s weird. what kind of uber driver has a weight limit?” he shrugs and smiles. “do you miss australia?”

“sometimes. i’m used to travelling though. i’ve done it for so long.” he looks at you. “what about you? do you miss your home?”

“eh, i wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. i wanted to remake myself. i was gonna do it all y’know? a name change and everything.” you look up at the stars for a moment. “i didn’t go through with it. even if i changed my name, i’d still be y/n really. inside.”

“i get that. i think.” oscar looks at the gorgeous landscape in front of him. he ignores all the people milling around the two of you. to him it’s just you, him and the view. “so, y/n-“

your phone interrupts him. a loud, obnoxious ringing noise. you mouth an apology at him when you look at the caller id.

“sorry, it’s my best friend. she wouldn’t call me if it wasn’t important. she’s more of a texter anyways. do you mind?” you point at your phone. he shakes his head with a smile. you disappear to take your call and he finds a bench to sit on. he leans back, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

what was he thinking? asking you out? thank god the world or fate or god or whoever is in charge, stopped him before he made the biggest mistake of his life. you liked logan and he didn’t blame you. he really, truly didn’t.

when you come back, you ask him what he was going to ask. he shrugs. it wasn’t important anyways, he says. he asks what happened with your friend and listens you chatter all the way back about your friend’s current work drama.

-❀-

the next morning, logan and you head down to breakfast together. it’s a continental breakfast that the hotel offer. it’s good, with a wide spread of toast, pancakes, omelettes, cereal, fruit and sausages. you load up your plate, happy to get food for free even though technically you paid for it.

logan’s plate is smaller. you think about what they said earlier about weight limits and feel a pang of sympathy. i mean, your job was not very well paid but at least it gave you freedom in your spare time to do and eat whatever you want.

“is oscar not coming?” you ask, forking a fluffy piece of omelette and hash browns in your mouth. it’s gorgeous and you’re hungry.

“nah. he’s not feeling too good. i’ll bring him some breakfast in a bit.” logan methodically goes through his breakfast. slow, small bites and chews it for as long as possible. “wanna go for a swim later? it’s hot as hell outside. i feel my skin melting off.”

“you are going a little red.” you tease. he smiles again, shyly. his face does go red when you lean forward and press your cold cup against his cheek. “a little better?”

“it’d be better if you’d go swimming with me.” he smiles.

“of course i will. can’t leave you by yourself. who knows what’ll happen.” he laughs this time. “now wanna try some of this omelette?”

he sits politely as you lean over and feed him a forkful of the spinach and cheese omelette. for a moment, the two of you look into each other's eyes as you feed him. he turns away as soon as it’s okay and chews the bite.

“good?”

“yeah. yeah. it’s good.” he smiles at you. “let me just get some more water for us, be back in a moment.”

“is it getting too hot for you?” you tease.

“a little.” he sheepishly grins again. “let me cool down.”

-❀-

it’s your last day with the two of the guys before they drop you back off at the bus stop to go back to athens. your heart is still pinching at the thought of leaving, but you decide your last day can’t be in vain. they’ll be going home soon so it’ll be the best time to admit what you already knew. what you had known for the whole time.

you’d been on the phone with your best friend who had helped you to write a pros and cons list.

— pros - you could be a girlfriend to a great guy. you would be happy. you would have a rich boyfriend (your bff added that). you could touch them in any way they’d let you. you could sleep together. you could also sleep together (bff again). you would have a great time. you would have fun. would it improve your life? potentially.

— cons - they could say no and you’d have to jump off a cliff. they could be dating each other and you’d be embarrassed that you didn’t figure it out. they could laugh at you. they could be disgusted. they could be nice about it and gently let you down. they’re not even from anywhere close to greece. it’d be a long distance relationship. could you even deal with that?

you shake your head and lift your hand up to his bedroom door. the wood is cold under your knuckles. the world still moves around you, tourists laughing in their rooms and people walking around. their voices murmuring.

as your hand hovered there, you thought for a moment. about how this could change everything. was it too soon? too risky? then you remembered, it’s now or never.

take the plunge and with that, you knock.

liked by anyaaaa, alexjohnson and 183 others.

yourusername: this summer is going well. made two new friends, spent half of my savings and made some new memories and isn’t that what life is all about?

anyaaaa: when are you coming back? miss u girl!!

-> yourusername: soon! i just need to figure something out first.

-> anyaaaa: you’ll figure it out. you always do. can’t wait till you come back <33

taglist: @decafmickey @nichmeddar @casperlikej @purplephantomwolf @cuteskz @booksandflowrs @mxdi0 @alexmarie29 @luckyladycreator2 @23victoria @molten-m122 @evie-119 (want to be removed? or wondering why you weren’t tagged? check your tag settings or send me an ask!)

#summer lovin’ ❀ #jayde’s works ☆ #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smau #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 texts #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant smau #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant #formula one smau #formula one imagine #logan sargeant x you #f1 x you #ls2 x reader #op81 x reader #op81 x you #ls2 x you

[eli0004]

Making Out With The AoT Men

Summary: what it’s like to make out with the AoT boys

Gn!Reader

Warnings: Slight Nsfw suggestion

(Contains: Eren, Jean, Armin, Connie, Levi, Erwin)

Let me know if you all want me to do a more detailed version for any of them.

Eren Yeager is eager. He feels everything intensely, and that includes love. He’s holding your face in his hands, or tangling his fingers in your hair, all but climbing on top of you. He likes a lot of tongue, so his kissing is sloppy, and he’s so quick to become aroused. Eren wants all your attention on him, and you can bet that his is on you. Someone could walk into the room and say words to him and he’d be none the wiser. He gets so lost in the feeling that he quite literally sees nothing but you.

Jean Kirstein is passionate. He’s a hopeless romantic and he loves to be loved. When you’re making out with Jean, his hands will hover until you give him the go to touch you. His brows are tightly knitted together, and he just wants to pull you closer against him. Another one that likes his hair tugged on, but not too hard. Jean is all about gentleness, he values loving touch. If you’re ok with it, he will softly grab at your hips and thighs, not to squeeze or smack, just to touch you. To feel the warmth of your body underneath his palms.

Armin Arlert is soft. So so soft, his fingers in your hair, his blue eyes hazy and full of adoration. He’s humming softly against your lips, and he whispers little “i love you’s” in between kisses. His hands are soft, his lips are soft, the pink heat spreading over his cheeks is soft. You can run your fingers through that thick, silky blonde hair, tug a little at the roots and hear him whimper. He gets worked up too easily, his hips are softly raising off the couch cushion to find some relief. Honestly i’d say he’s in top 3 best AoT kissers.

Connie Springer is lazy, but not in a bad way. He could spend all his time wrapped up in blankets with you, safe inside, just basking in each other’s affection. He smiles a lot between kisses, so you’ll accidentally kiss his open mouth and he’ll just giggle at you as you scoff at him. His eyes get all droopy and he moves slow and deliberately. You make him so happy he can hardly contain it. Another one on the list that will blow your mind with his kissing skill.

Levi Ackerman is nervous. No matter how many times you make out with this man, your close proximity never fails to make his heart skip a beat. He does get comfortable quickly, however, and he’ll reach out and grab onto your forearms or search for your hands to hold. I like the idea that Levi is endearingly awkward, he doesn’t always know what to do and he likes for you to lead. But his head absolutely swims with love and desire, sometimes he’ll flutter his eyes open briefly just to look at you and soak in the feeling of being held so close. It took him a while to become comfortable with french kissing, but now, from time to time you’ll feel the tip of his tongue poking gently at your lips, and who are you to deny him?

Erwin Smith is just happy. He’s simply content to be in your embrace, letting out happy little sighs between your kisses. He’ll confidently place his hands on your thighs, squeezing gently, or traveling up under your shirt. His hands are so big and warm, calloused against your back and he’s so sensual with his affection. His hair becomes all disheveled and messy and the content expression on his face, the adoration in his eyes is so attractive, you cannot resist this man. Best kisser out of all of them.

#aot x reader #attack on titan #aot #aot headcanons #aot smut #aot x y/n #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman headcanons #erwin smut #aot erwin #erwin smith #eren yeager smut #eren aot #eren yaeger x reader #eren yeager #jean kirstein headcanons #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirschtein x reader #jean attack on titan #armin arlet x reader #armin arlert #armin aot #connie springer x reader #connie springer #aot connie #snk #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Wanting What You Can't Have - Charles Leclerc

Dark fic - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Similar to I'll Never Date A Fuckboy for Lando, this is pretty damn dark imo to readers proceed with caution

Request from @erikasurfer - Hey girl I love your dark fics! Do you think you could do a dark Charles one and it involves kidnapping, like reader is Charles bestfriend and Arthur’s girlfriend but he’s mad,y in love with her but she’s all for Arthur ? Ignore if you want just an idea lovely 🥰

Themes/warnings: Kidnapping, manipulation, forced break up, public involvement, coerced into cheating, baby trapping, cockwarming, smut (rope is used, briefly)

Honestly everyone, even Arthur a little, was shocked when it came to light that y/n and Arthur had formed a romantic connection. The whole thing was...odd.

Y/n had befriended Charles a few years ago through mutual friends and everyone had sort of noticed a certain smile that Charles had reserved for her. Well everyone but Arthur and y/n noticed apparently.

When the relationship went public with a hard launch on Instagram, there was a lot of love and support. Very few were upset and the more they were together and posting all about each other, it became obvious that they're so perfectly together.

Though y/n still loves Charles...as a best friend.

"Charlie!" Y/n grins jogging to him as they arrive at his yacht. "How have you been? All the way on the other side of the world so much."

"Good. I have missed you." Charles smiles as they hug then he sees Arthur following and moving for a hug as y/n shifts back. "-Both of you."

"I told you I'm his favourite." Y/n smirks looking at her boyfriend who rolls his eyes at her.

Enduring seeing Arthur and y/n together is just not enjoyable.

Charles can paint a smile on his face and a pretend to be happy for them but instead he's never been more disgusted by a couple. But it's his best friend and his brother, he has to be supportive. They're happy.

Even if she should be happy with him and not his brother.

At some point Arthur has to leave, though not without a very big display of affection with y/n who looks like he hung the moon and stars in the sky with how much she seems to admire him.

"I love you." Y/n smiles earning a grin from the youngest Leclerc.

"I love you too. I won't be gone for long and I'll come see you first thing when I'm back."

"Ok." Y/n nods then sighing as Arthur leaves and her gaze remains on his shrinking figure before she feels the presence of yet another Leclerc. "You've got the best brother, you know."

"I know. He's not quite as good as you." Charles jokes, though he does mean it and she laughs nudging him.

"Don't be mean." Y/n giggles before she looks at him. "Anyway, now we have some bestie time. Just you and me."

"Yeah, what should we do first?" Charles asks making her hum in thought.

"Ice cream?"

Charles grins nodding and gesturing for them to leave and head to their favourite ice cream place.

"Oooh...actually can we go to your place for a movie night? I miss our sleepovers." Y/n pouts though the two have only had 2 sleepovers. One of which was a result of her being too lazy to walk any further from a club and Charles' apartment was the first one she could get herself to. The second time she'd got a tooth taken out and Charles offered to be the person who took her home and kept an eye on her to make sure she didn't chew her tongue off.

"You can always come for a sleepover." Charles smiles earning a grin before they get to his car, her holding the ice creams while he drives around.

Y/n is so innocent and gullible that when they get to his place and the thought dawns on him of the potential opportunity. He decides it's a now or never chance.

Arthur is over in Italy for some stuff for Ferrari for the better part of a week.

Charles ends up getting y/n pretty drunk, thankfully with little to no encouragement needed because she doesn't have the concern of alcohols negative effects on her life because she's not a race drive who ever has to be concerned about it.

"Do you really love Arthur?" Charles asks, taking the opportunity of asking while she's too drunk to remember.

"I love him so much, he's...so perfect-and I have you to thank, you-you are the second best. I have to give the best title to your brother. But we both owe you." Y/n smiles lazily, poking a finger at him before she sighs and leans back, sinking into the sofa. "I could get your a girlfriend if you'd let me."

"I'm not interested in anyone you want to set me up with, y/n." Charles states shaking his head earning a pout.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to be set up with anyone."

"Mmm...I don't know if I believe you." Y/n laughs while picking up her drink to drink more.

After a few more drinks, Charles ends up picking y/n's semi conscious body up and carrying her to his room. She's meant to be sleeping in his guest room but she won't care really.

-

Now it wasn't necessarily the plan. He really didn't intend to have sex with y/n. But when she semi-drunkenly climbed on top of him. Grinding down on him and kissing him in the darkly lit room.

"Y/n." Charles groans feeling fairly grateful that him and Arthur sound identical when they speak because really he knows she doesn't realise it's him.

"I need you, baby. I need you now." Y/n whines grinding down on him desperately.

And who is Charles to deprive her of what she needs?

"I'll take care of you." He states rolling them overly and while he'd like to waste time with foreplay, he can't risk any time.

The feeling of sliding into her feels like he's transcended into another realm and the moan that falls from her lips only makes him feel like this has to be a dream. But no dream ever feels this glorious.

Her scrambling for grip and pulling him closer, her moany breaths directly in his ear making her lose all control. He's like a man possessed and the moment she orgasms, sucking him in deeper like she's just begging for his cum, he can't hold it.

In fact he doesn't think he's ever came and felt like he's completely emptied himself into a woman like this before. He's certain he has to spend the rest of his life in this woman if he can and if it can't be a constant than it has to be as often as possible.

He rolls them so she's on top and he's still planting deep inside her, slowly softening but not wanting to lose the warmth of her surrounding him.

She places one last kiss on his lips before nuzzling into his neck, then she falls asleep. Growing heavier on top of him as she does so.

-

Y/n smiles waking up feeling the body underneath her, skin almost stuck together between their bodies and the unfamiliar feeling of waking up to something already semi-hard (seemingly growing hard by the second) seated firmly in her pussy making her hum as she eases from the depth of sleep. T

"Good mor-Charles?!" Y/n squeals, sitting up and hissing at the feeling of his dick poking very much deeper in her tummy from the angle. Even worse there's a wet stickiness which makes her stomach lurch.

After a moment of being frozen in that position she finally screams scrambling off of him and throwing the blanket onto him as she tries to grab for something to cover herself.

"What-What did you do?" Y/n hiccups making Charles sit up carefully looking almost unrecognisable with his cool persona, completely unbothered about what's happening.

"You climbed on me, y/n." Charles states simply while she shakes her head.

"No-I-I was drunk-and you should've stopped me! I love your brother-Arthur loves me. How could you?" Y/n hiccups as tears begin to appear. "I thought you were Arthur."

"You knew he wasn't here."

"I-"

"You just did what you wanted all along. I've seen the way you've looked at me."

"No." Y/n frowns not wanting to hear the lies. "No-I have to go."

Y/n tries to turn but almost in unnatural speed, Charles appears at the door. Slamming it as soon as she tries to get out.

"You're not going anywhere." Charles states with an expression dark enough to send chills down her back. "You're staying here until you will do what I say."

Y/n's lip quivers, eyes trying to blink back tears.

"You're not going to let me go?" Y/n whispers making his expression soften as he moves forward and cups her face with one hand, wavering slightly when she flinches under his touch.

"We're best friends and I know that you love me more than you ever tricked yourself into loving Arthur. He'll understand."

He won't. But he won't have a choice but to accept it. Quite similar to y/n.

"You're crazy-I will never love you." Y/n glares pushing him back.

"You'll change your mind." Charles shrugs as she steps back till her back hits the wall and she slides down.

-

Y/n wouldn't eat and even tried to avoid sleep, but eventually after 38 hours the lack of sustenance and sleep deprivation caught up to her.

When she wakes up Charles appears with some food that she glares at as if both him and the food are her enemy.

"Not eating isn't hurting anyone but you." Charles comments with a sigh as he sits down on the bed. "You know, that door hasn't been locked. You've made no attempt to leave. If you really loved Arthur and hated me, you'd have left by now-or at least tried."

Y/n swallows thickly, her whole body feeling so heavy with the dread of the fact he's right.

"You know I think you realised how much more you enjoy me than Arthur...We were always meant to get together. I think you were just scared I'd say no so you settled for Arthur." Charles states, not feeling right saying such things about his brother but he'd say whatever he needs to in order to force y/n to love him. "Actually I should call Arthur. Tell him that you cheated on him-"

"No!" Y/n gasps as Charles gets his phone out.

"No? Well he has to find out some way."

"I'll tell him."

"Can I trust you?" Charles questions making her swallow lip trembling as she nods. "Look at me."

Y/n tears her gaze up to look at him.

"I'll tell him the truth."

"And that is?"

"That I cheated on him with you when he left...and that I'm sorry."

Charles knows that trusting her is a risk but she looks sincere and y/n has physical tells when she lies. Which means even if she feels like she's lying while she talks to Arthur, he can't see them and Charles isn't even certain anyone else knows her tells.

He actually gives her her own phone making her realise that he's been replying to texts and messages all pretending to be her. But really she knew that had happened.

"Hey, baby. I was beginning to wonder if you were avoiding me." Arthur laughs as she puts him on speaker and out of genuine emotion, she sniffles. "Baby? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry." Y/n chokes out taking in a jagged breath. "I cheated on you with Charles...and I'm sorry...I just...I don't know what else to say."

"You cheated on me with my brother. When? Why?"

Y/n looks at Charles who shows no remorse as he smiles at her.

"Because...it's always been him. I thought I could settle for you, but...I love Charles." Y/n states, the words bitter on her tongue. "I'm sorry."

The call cuts from Arthur's side, proving he hung up. Or possibly threw his phone and damaged it.

Y/n places her phone down throwing it away from herself before she curls up.

"I hope you're happy." Y/n spits making him smirk.

"I think we both know I am." Charles shrugs earning a grumble before she lies down but he sits beside her. "We have a long and happy future together. Just accept it and you'll realise how happy you can be."

He leans down kissing the side of her face.

-

Travelling with Charles out to the next race was an easy way to avoid the potential of running into Arthur now he's back. Not that y/n believes Charles would've allowed her out of his apartment. But even that held a risk of Arthur going there.

The whole paddock and online F1 community was in shock. Seeing y/n appear in the paddock with her supposed boyfriend's older brother.

They'd also noticed how sad and withdrawn she appears. But aside from not quite being able to make her face force a smile, she plays the part of his girlfriend well with Charles. Kisses, accepting of every touch and actually beginning to find herself being quite affectionate.

Out of public sight in the hotel is a different game entirely.

Charles knowing she's off birth control means that she's at his mercy of pregnancy. She's also learned he's not quite a vanilla as his favourite ice cream flavour would suggest, which is how she finds herself tied in ropes to the hotel bed frame as he thrusts in and out of her.

"Ah mon amour, you always feel so good." Charles groans brutalising her cervix and playing with her clit that is so overused that one touch feels like she's about to orgasm.

She hates to admit that of the brothers, who she shouldn't compare but can't help it, Charles is certainly more well endowed and seems to know how to make every touch feel like a blaze of pleasure rushing through her every nerve-ending. But he especially seems to enjoy using her clit like a button to set her off explosively.

Pumping another load into her and pushing himself beyond her capacity does make her wince a little. He's also bigger than Arthur was and whenever she's filled with his cum, only midway through his own orgasm, he's got a hand pressed to her tummy only intensifying the pleasure coursing through her.

By the time he pulls out she feels like he's pushed his cum deep enough that there's no chance that some of it isn't just in there forever.

"I should just leave you here like this. So I can come back whenever I am free and just so it all again." Charles comments running his finger over the ropes keeping her legs up and spread. He pushes his fingers down poking the cum back into her that's leaked out before placing it up onto her tongue for her to suck off the residue. "You're so perfect."

Y/n doesn't say anything as she looks at him, just swallowing the salty residue before he shifts forward to kiss her pausing before it does so.

"I love you."

"I love you too." Y/n whispers before he kisses her, something she returns the action of.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #cl16 #cl16 fic #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x you #cl16 one shot #cl16 x y/n #cl16 fanfic #cl16 smut #forza ferrari #ferrari #ferrari f1 #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc 16 #dark!charles leclerc #dark charles leclerc #dark!f1 #dark f1

[russellsppttemplates]

https://br.pinterest.com/pin/426082814766919130/

Hello, since Carlos and Carlos Sr. recreated that photo when Jr. removed his appendix, could you do a Carlos blurb where he and the reader leave Clara for a while with Carlos' parents because they are busy with the reader's appointment to see how the twins are doing during her pregnancy, where Carlos Sr. recreates with her one of his photos from where Jr. was little with the newspaper talking about his victory in rally and then Reyes sends them this photo

Cw: reader's pregnant

"Papa and Mama are going to see how the twins are doing, okay? So you'll stay with abuelo and abuela, okay?", Carlos checked with Clara as you spoke to Reyes.

"And then you'll come pick me up?", your daughter asked, "or will I spend the night here?".

"Abuela said she would make dinner for us tonight, so after the appointments, me and mama will come back here and then we'll all go home together", Carlos clarified.

"Okay", the little girl smiled, "say hi to the babies for me!", she hugged Carlos one last time before she ran up to you, "I love you, mama", she hugged your legs.

While you waited for the doctor to call you, the twins started kicking, "put your hand here", you smiled, guiding your husband's hand to the spot where one of the boys was kicking.

"Is it more painful now that there's two of them?", Carlos quesioned.

"Right now it's okay, I imagine it will be harder when they're closer to term", you shrugged your shoulders, "you and your guys managed to put two babies in me, and now you're worried?", you joked.

"I'm always thinking about you and making sure you're all fine, amor", Carlos admitted, "I never quite understood what my father meant until I became a father - I always want the best for you and I hate the thought of you being in pain or uncomfortable", he sighed, "I can assume being pregnant is not the most comfortable thing, so I want to help as much as possible - even if I was the one getting two babies", he smiled.

"It's not the most comfortable, there are some bad days, but I like being pregnant", you assured, "not in a kink type of way before you go down that route, but because I know I'm the babies first home and that they're comfy in there", you rubbed your bump before you got a notification from your mother in-law.

The photo showed, on one side, a young Carlos and his father reading a newspaper about his win, and on the other, a modern recreation of it with Clara holding a tablet with a digital version of the newspaper article reporting about his latest victory.

The shop was out of the physical copies of the newspaper so we had to get creative!

Showing Carlos, the smile on your husband's face was the biggest, "I'm so happy we get to raise the kids with our families nearby", he kissed your temple.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#carlos sainz blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[rafeandonlyrafe]

in the middle

words: 1.4k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, barry x rafe x reader, threesome, thruple, bi!rafe, bi!barry, male on male action, established relationship, female receiving oral, unprotected sex, p in v sex, cum eating oops, male receiving oral

it's rare for rafe and barry to be getting along for as long as they have. they both are in love you and are infatuated with each other, but their strong personalities easily clash. it leads to many arguments with you in the middle, but not for the past couple days.

you're in the middle of something else now, snuggled into rafes side as you look up to him, a bit of stubble growing on his chin as his chest moves up and down, deep, relaxed breaths as he sleeps.

barry is latched onto your back, arm around your waist, face pressed between your shoulders.

you let out a soft happy hum, leaning forward to press your lips against rafes bare chest, pressing your hand over barrys. he spreads his fingers to allow you to slip yours in between, pushing even closer to you.

“what time is it?” barry mumbles, his voice heating your back, making you giggle as the vibrations of his words tickle your skin.

“shh.” rafe grunts out. 

“it's like 10.” you glance at the clock. truly, it's minutes away from being 11am, but you don't want to admit that to the boys. you've been awake for about an hour now, just enjoying being happily slotted between them.

“we should get up.” barry says, straightening up to press kisses against your shoulder.

“we shouldn't.” you turn your head and move onto your back, connecting your lips with his in a hot kiss, tongues quickly appearing to fight for dominance.

“want you.” you whisper to barry. “please.”

“hey.” rafe is more awake now, tugging on your hip to face him too. “don't leave me out.”

you smile and kiss rafe, tugging on barrys hand until he gets the hint and leans over your body, the three of your mouths pressing together in a mess of lips, tongue and teeth. you pull back to watch barry and rafe kiss, fascination in your eyes. you'll never get sick of seeing them like this.

“what do you want princess?” barry asks, turning to look down at you. “i think my dick is still recovering from last night.’

“eat me out?” you flutter your eyelashes at them, hoping it's convincing. “together?”

“god, you're lucky you're cute.” rafe kisses your cheek as they both move down the bed in beautiful synchronicity.

you only managed to pull on a pair of underwear last night, and not even your own as you're in one of barrys boxers.

he smiles softly seeing you in his clothes, noticing that he somehow pulled on rafes underwear while rafe put his sweatpants back on to sleep, his dick pressing against the gray fabric.

it's always a mess of bodies whenever rafe and barry are getting you along, battling which one gets to fuck you first or shoving the others head down onto their cock.

you smile gently down at them, the warm sunlight coming in from the windows and illuminating the room as you lift your hips and allow barrys capable hands to tug them down your legs, flinging them away.

“be nice, boys.” you say, barry nodding while rafe just smirks at you, leaning in first to press a wet kiss to your clit.

barry mumbles something about him being unfair before also bending down, getting comfortable next to rafe as they both take turns licking over your cunt.

“ahhh.” you moan out, head leaning back against the pillows as your eyes slide closed. rafe takes your thigh and pushes your legs wider apart, giving them more access.

“tastes so good baby.” rafe says, sliding his tongue lower to your entrance. rafe realizes it still tastes of barry as he licks into you where barry was thrusting all night long, leaving rafe to cum down your throat.

“oh, fuck!” you squeal out when barrys mouth also latches onto you, sucking your clit into his mouth as rafe begins to thrust his tongue in and out.

he reaches down with his free hand to pull his cock out, pressing it against barrys side until he finally lowers a hand, wrapping it around his length and giving it a tug.

“come on, let's make princess come first.” barry says.

“yeah.” rafe gasps out, moving to give barry a kiss, tongues darting out to lick over your clit as well as into the others mouth.

barry keeps his hand around rafes dick, but absentmindedly strokes it, slow enough to not get him off.

“f-fingers.” you whine. “fingers or fuck me, please.”

rafe presses his finger against your entrance, teasingly circling around until you cry out and he pushes inside.

rafe wastes no time setting a quick rhythm with his hand, a wet squelching sound emitting every time he pushes in, a mess of your slick and barrys cum that hadn't dripped out of you in the night.

“c-close.” you warn. your clit is still pretty sensitive from last night, recalling when barry slapped it several times after you came without permission.

“cum for us, baby.” rafe says, his tongue stroking through your folds while barry is fixed on your clit, eyes closed in concentration as he sucks until he feels your hips press up, cumming with a loud moan as rafes fingers plunge inside of you.

you reach down and push their heads away as your legs shake. barry smirks at the way your high steadily works through your entire body, turning to kiss rafe as you recover. 

it ends up being more of licking your slick off each other's mouths and chin as rafe pulls his fingers out of you and pushes them between the kiss, tasting you even more.

you regain enough energy to sit up. “gimme attention too.” you complain.

“oh come on, baby.” rafe laughs, pulling away with a soft smile on his face. “you know we spoil you.”

it's true, while the boys will join you together in bed, they never have each other without you, while you spend time with each of them one on one. they drop whatever they're doing for you, even if it's just to help you choose what dress to wear or reaching something from a top shelf.

“let me and barry spoil you.” you look down at rafes crotch, his sweatpants pushed around his thighs, barrys hand still stroking slowly.

“im close already.” rafe says. his morning wood always makes him quick to burst, and having your taste on his tongue and moans in his ear only pushes him closer.

you nod, rafe turning to sit up on the bed, tugging his pants the rest of the way off before spreading his thighs and flopping back against the pillows, letting you and barry kiss over his cock now, sharing his cock much the way he was just sharing your pussy.

“want him to cum inside me, mkay barry?” you tell him, who quickly nods.

you still work your mouths on rafe for a bit longer, tongues running up and down his length, each sucking a ball into your mouth, noses pressing together as you gently suck.

“god.” rafe groans. “seriously, im not gonna last.”

you move quickly to sit up, moving to press your wet cunt against rafes abs. you take his cock into your hand while barry suckles at the head of his dick.

you wait until the exact moment rafe swells in your hand before you move, hovering your pussy over his cock only long enough for barry to move out of the way as you sink down with a moan, rafe reaching down to grip your ass as he cums, hips pressing up to fill your cunt.

barry is quick to bring his mouth to your pussy, tongue swiping over your stretched entrance and rafes cock as you pull yourself off, letting barry clean anything that leaks out, pressing a few kisses to your cunt then rafes softening cock before your legs give out, flopping onto the bed next to rafe.

“your turn, bears.” you look at barry, spreading your legs. “wanna cum in me too?”

“i was serious.” barry says with a slight cringe, cupping his crotch over his- rafes- boxers. “im still recovering from last night.”

“aww.” you giggle, schooching over so there's space between you and rafe. “you need some cuddles then.”

barry rolls his eyes, but lays in-between the two of you as you both cuddle into him, rafe reaching over barry to grab your waist as you both snicker at the tough guy in between the two of you reduced to being in a big cuddle pile.

“i hate the both of you.” barry says.

you shake your head, knowing he's not serious. “love you too barry.” you press a kiss against his lips, then rafes.

you look at them expectantly. they both sigh before giving each other a quick peck on the lips as you grin at them.

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#rafe smut #barry smut #rafe x barry #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x barry #rafe cameron x reader #rafe one shot #rafe imagine #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #bi!rafe

[sunkissed-zegras]

Nika with Paige’s little sister, that’s all I’m thinking about 😫

─ warnings | SHORT AF! just fluff! mention of jealousy, nothin' else :)

─ taglist | link is my navigation if you wanna be tagged in my wcbb stuff!

─ ev's notes | lmk if yall like headcanons-bullet point style things cus this is kinda new to me. ALSOOOOO requests are open if you wanna send in a little sum sum, even if it is just some words of encouragement :) enjoy!

you and paige would be really, really close because you guys are so close in age

you guys are practically twins BUT because is the older one, she is the more protective one

especially when it comes to love interests - oh my lord, bless all your previous partners who have had to meet her (and then had to deal with her AFTER your breakup)

she like the last person your partner meet because she WILL give them the "if you hurt her..." talk. she INVENTED that talk

but of course she isn't overbearing about it, she just doesn't wanna see you get hurt yk

anyways, you met nika through paige obviously and just like that, yall clicked and became just as close as her/paige (if not more)

i feel like nika would be the first to catch feelings but it wouldn't occur to her that they were romantic feelings at first

she's like "wow! i really enjoy being around y/n and i miss her a weird amount when she's not with me... and i HATE when she brings up her love interests... or when people try to flirt with her... OH wait"

it kinda just clicks in her mind when she starts getting unreasonably jealous when people flirt with you at parties

and of course it takes her a little while for her to realize like... her feelings were def not just platonic

with you, you thought nika was GORG from the beginning and thought she was like a goddess who graced you with her presence

but you didn't catch feelings as quick as nika, it kinda took a while because in your head, you weren't exactly nika's type

but nika wasn't the best at hiding her obvious feelings for you so when you finally put two and two together, you were first very CONFUSED then it turned into flattery

then more confusion cus WHAT.

nika felt guilty because you were paige's sister and it was kind of like betraying her in a way

cus you were paige's little sister and she knew how she acted with your partners

that was the main reason why it took you both a while to admit your feelings - both of you were anxious for paige's reaction

now all this tension came to a boiling point after a very exciting game for nika, you were obviously in the stands cheering her on

and after a very exculariating win, the first thing she wanted to do was see you

then seeing you turned into kissing you

so yeah... she kissed you, which you happily recipoticated

after that, it was all a blur - you both were just so high off one another that paige wasn't even an concern anymore

and after that, you guys became closer than ever which didn't go unnoticed by paige

of course, she confronts you

you tried to lie to her but ended up fessing up because paige knew you too well

then paige GOT PISSED AND CUT YOU BOTH OFF

jk ofc not

paige is not like that at all - first of all, she was not even surprised because she knew you too well and she knew it was bound to happen

she was so sure it would happen, she took bets with kk and azzi on how long it would take for yall to get together (and of course, paige won cus she's just like that)

you and nika were all like oh! so we wasted months of being scared of telling paige only for her to react not only well, but generally very excited for you two?

but yaya! happy ending!!!!!!

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#wcbb x reader #wcbb #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #nika muhl #nika muhl x reader #nika mühl #kk arnold #ncaa women’s basketball #wnba basketball #women's college basketball

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ruggie, Trey: More and More

TWST once again picks the most INCRIMINATING villain shots to display in the picture frames 😭 I am BEGGING the museum curator to do better/j

A Tale as Old as Time.

A lion cub, a warthog, and a meerkat.

It was an odd trio, a group of animals that, under normal circumstances, would never be together. Certainly not like this—not grinning, snuggling up with each other. Carnivore, herbivore, omnivore. Sharing the lives they had, joined in heart and in song.

No worries for the rest of their days.

Ruggie snickered behind one hand. Man, ain't that the dream?

"They've got nice smiles."

The hyena's ears perked. His eyes shifted to a Heartslabyul student gazing upon the same painting. Tall, built well, in glasses.

"Come again?"

"Their teeth," Trey clarified, pointing. "You see? They have different shapes based on their diet. Warthogs mainly eat vegetables, so they have strong, flat molars for crushing plants. But lions are carnivores, so their teeth are sharper for slicing through meat. And meerkats--"

"Okay, I get it already! Now quit it, you sound almost as creepy as Rook." Ruggie groaned. "Can't believe you take one look at this and your first thought is what's in their mouths."

"You don't?" The joke fell flat, and Trey let it go "How about you? What's your first thought when you look at this? If I'm remembering correctly, this painting is based on a story from your country. Does it have significance to you?"

"Eh, it’s some story about a warthog and a meerkat coming together to raise a lost cub they found."

"Really." Trey's eyebrows raised. "How did they manage to feed a baby lion? They probably need a lot of protein, and I don't think a warthog and a meerkat could hunt enough for it."

"Nah, they figured something out." He pinched his thumb and index finger together, peering through the small gap between them and right at the vice dorm leader. "Bugs."

"Bugs?!" Trey startled.

"Yup, there's plenty of 'm and they're packed full of protein for a growing young prince.”

“Prince?”

“Did I not mention it before? Turns out that the lion cub was a missing prince, and they had no idea. When the prince was all grown up, he returned to claim his kingdom with the warthog and the meerkat. The animals were able to get over their differences and live together in harmony. It all started with bugs—that’s pretty resourceful, isn’t it?”

"I didn’t think there would be a twist that wild from a story that started with eating bugs. We sometimes eat flowers in the Queendom, but usually as a garnish or for a snack, not for a whole meal. Is it a cultural difference...?"

Ruggie shrugged. "Sometimes you don't have much of a choice in what you eat. If life hands you lemons when you're starving, are you going to turn it down? 'Course not."

I can't afford that kind of luxury.

"Well, when you put it like that..." Trey gave a light laugh. "You're going to make me hungry too."

"I'd kill for a big roast pork right about now. Fat, sweet, and juicy, the meat so tender if falls off the bone once ya sink your teeth into it..." Ruggie drooled at the thought. "Yeah, if you just shoved an apple into the warthog's mouth, glaze it with honey, and slow cook it over a fire, I bet it'd be real tasty."

"It sounds like you’ve always got food on your mind.” Trey folded his arms, lips tugging back into a lopsided smirk. “Kinda gruesome when you talk about the prep work like that though.”

“We wouldn’t have any food if we didn’t hunt and gather. ‘S how the circle of life works.”

His gaze slanted toward the painting of the happy trio. A unification, food shared from the same platter—it sparked some desperate hope in him.

A world where kings and hyenas can be friends… Heh, maybe I’m asking for too much.

But he was greedy like that. Seeking more and more, his hunger never fully satisfied.

Ruggie shook his head, letting dirty blonde locks fall across his face. “Maybe it’s news to you, but beastmen don’t exactly see eye to eye with other beastmen. That’s why it’s practically a miracle that those three get along. It’s a tale they tell us in the Sunset Savanna to remind us of what we could be, united under one true kingdom. It’s just that: a story.”

“It’s a nice story,” Trey said simply. “And it would be even nicer if it came true.”

It would.

“It’ll be a looong time before that happens. It’s about as real as my dreams of a roast pork dinner.”

Ruggie sighed as he drew his arms up, hands resting behind his head. He reclined back in that lazy, devil-may-care pose.

Trey watched him, his mustard yellow eyes shifting slightly. “… Are you baiting me to offer to make you some?”

“What?” The hyena feigned shock. “Me, trying to get my hands on free grub? Nooooo, I’d never!”

Trey stared at him indignantly. “You’re not being very subtle there…”

Ruggie showed his teeth. “Was I supposed to be?”

“Maybe you’d have better luck getting a formal invite from Riddle first. I don’t usually prepare whole hams for a single guest either—it’s usually a group meal, so you’d have to share.”

“Tch. Whatever, can’t blame a hyena for testing out a shortcut, can you?”

“Ahahah… I’m slightly concerned that you’d even attempt to have an entire pig to yourself. Your appetite must be legendary.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

More and more—he wanted it all. Gluttony, a sin to the common man. To him, a desire for something greater than this.

He saw it now, a kingdom built upon the jagged cliffs. His kind and other scorned creatures. creeping out from the darkness and into the moonlight. They all looked to the one that stood far above them, the one that would lead them to that shining future.

Someday, it will come.

Ruggie spun, his back presented to the painting. A spotlight upon the trio, and the shadows closing in on his own face.

Even so, his smile was as big and as bright as ever.

“Nishishishishi! Don’t worry so much, Trey-kun~ Just be happy—hakuna matata!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #Ruggie Bucchi #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #something no one asked for #Trey Clover #Ruggie birthday takeover #spoilers #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: we vibing.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Jazlene comes to with a wispy sigh. You back up and stand as her mother helps her to her feet. The king is back at the table, unbothered by the overcome maiden. Lord Dustan hovers between, torn by loyalty to his liege and his family. New liege, that is. Only yesterday, he was toasting to good King Waleran. 

“My apologies, your highness,” Jazlene fans herself with her hand, “I was only surprised. I didn’t... How could I expect this? To marry a king?” She reaches down to grip her mother’s arm, shakily stepping forward towards the king who doesn’t even glance up from the table of maps, “I promise to you, your highness, I will be a good wife to you.” 

The king tilts his head, tracing a finger along a ridge of mountains, then leans in to examine the riverbeds below. Jazlene looks at her mother, an expression of concern on her pretty features. She is rarely ignored, if at all. She will make sure that she isn’t. 

“Lord Dustan, I expect the dowry will be served along with your men and my kingdom,” the king declares, “but now, I find myself fatigued. A hard day’s ride sees me in need of bath and a bed.” 

Dustan bows his head, “and so you will have it, your highness. I will send down for water--” 

“Have the maid see to it,” the king waves his hand vaguely in your direction, “certainly a servant is a servant.” 

“Yes, your highness, how wise,” Dustan simpers, as he often does to men with titles above his own. “You,” the duke turns and snaps his fingers, “you heard the king. He requires hot water in his chamber.” 

You keep your head down, “yes, my lord.” 

You spin without hesitation. You’re all too happy to be free of the noble intrigue. It is rather easier to be unseen and unthought of. It has ever kept you from envying these ladies and their silks and these lords and their golden signets. 

Your flight is fleet. You rush down the corridor and to the wide stairwell. You descend with your mission and pass Merinda as she paces listlessly outside the kitchens. She stops you with an arm across your path. 

“There are whispers,” she says lowly, “of who visits. Is it true?” 

You look at her. You don’t know if you should say. It isn’t her place and you don’t know what they say. There is rather much gossip in castles. 

“It is,” she hisses, “you don’t need to say it. You are a poor liar and when you say nothing, I know that is the reason.” 

Your lips pinch and you give her a look, “I have been sent to draw a bath.” 

“Oh, is the lady in need of her evening boil?” Merinda snickers. 

“Not her.” 

Merinda quiets and tilts her head, “...him?” 

“The king,” you answer thinly. 

She nods and steps closer, “is he... I don’t understand. His soldiers, they mill about with our own, they cavort together. Not as enemies. Are they not invading? Do they not mean to take the castle?” 

You tear your eyes away. She’s right, you are a poor liar. You lean in, lips right by her ear, you whisper, “Lord Dustan has new allegiances.” 

She claps her hand over her mouth as you back up. She stares at you with wide eyes. She slowly drops her arm and her lip quivers, “he means to get us all killed.” 

You push your shoulders up, “think only of today. It’s all we can do. Oh, do you know where the king’s chambers would be?” 

“Mm, they took his saddlebags to the ivory room. I think there,” she answers, “do you require assistance?” 

“Stay here,” you gird, “he is a brusque man.” 

That only seems to worry her more as her face twists. You can’t help but feel the same inside but you do your best not to let it show. You leave her and carry on to your task. 

You put the kitchen hands to boiling water and send a few others to find a tub to bring to the king’s chambers. You help where you can and take the first bucket up. You pour it into the large tub in the ivory room and return for second, a third, a forth, and fifth. There will be many more even as your arms ache and your nap slickens with sweat. 

Upon the eight, when the tub looks near halfway, the chamber is not empty. You’re surprised by the king’s presence as the door remains ajar. You pour the water with a low apology and diligent ‘your highness.’ He doesn’t respond. 

There is much to go still. Back down, up again, hot water splashing on your sleeves, singing beneath, dumping it over the edge as you keep your eyes on your work. Do not be more than a piece of furniture. You are only air. 

At the last bucket, you pour slowly, careful not to slosh over the edges. As you right the empty pail, you hear a metal chink. The king growls into a long exhale. You turn towards the door. 

“Close it,” he commands, “you will remain.” 

You’re happy he cannot see the look on your face. You obey and close the door. You turn back, standing by the pillar of the door frame, as you often do, and begin your vigil. It should not be unexpected that he may require you to fetch something further for him. 

Your eyes catch the bottom of his mail as he lifts it over his head. No, don’t look. He undresses, leather creaking, fabric rustling, pacing as he strips away each piece. You grip the rope handle of the bucket. He circles the long tub and nears you. You cower, bracing. You are not noticed, you are not approached, unless it is for rebuke. 

He grabs the bucket by the brim and tugs. You let it go. He turns and sets it on the floor away from you. You push your hands together, stilling a tremble. He wears only his breeches and you catch a glimpse of the thatch of hair along his thick stomach. You gulp and twine your fingers through each other. 

He turns away and crosses the room. You listen to the fabric fall from around his hips. Your eyes bore into the floorboards. The water shifts as he climbs into the tub and you listen to him groan as he lowers himself into the depths. The steam mingles with the tension of his silence. 

He sighs and stirs the water. The lull persists as you wait. He will need wine or food.  

“Come,” he bids and your eyes flick up. The tub conceals much of his lower body as his thick shoulders and arms stretch around the brim. “I have a knot.” 

You approach hesitantly, unsure where to aim your eyes the closer you get. He gestures around his head, “stand behind me.” 

You do as he tells you. 

He sits up slightly and bends his head forward, lifting his white hair out of the way, “here.” 

He points along the muscle beside his neck. It’s thick, just like all of him. You’ve never seen a man built like that. There are stringy barn boys and tubby cooks.  

You stare and raise a hand, hovering it over his muscle. Are you supposed to touch him? He is a king and you are a servant. You are a servant sold out of pig shit into servitude. 

His large hand reaches for yours and he guides it down. You shake before he lets you go. You feel the muscle, almost curious, and rub lightly. He makes a noise but you’re unsure of its tenor. 

“Harder,” he demands, “squeeze,” he shows his hand, making a kneading motion, “you cannot hurt me.” You do as he says. You squeeze and he rests his hand against the tub, “harder,” he repeats. 

You obey. 

His head hangs as his long strands touch the water. You bring your other hand up as your efforts make your tendons sore. He lets out shallow breaths and hissing groans. Your chest thumps at the sounds that rise from him. 

“Your master has broken his oath and sworn a new one to me. And you, does that make me your master as well? If I am your master’s master?” He asks slyly. 

You focus on your hands, “your highness?” 

“Answer, don’t be afraid. Liars bore me.” 

You sniff and mull your reply. You don’t know. You don’t have much of a choice in the matter. 

“Lord Dustan is my master. I am bound to serve him.” 

He snorts and lifts his head. You rescind your touch but he reaches back to latch onto your again. He tugs you forward, placing your hand back on his shoulder. 

“Softer now,” he instructs. You rub his damp flesh as he bends a leg, his knee poking above the water. “You, a servant, so low, and you are more loyal than any man with a title.” 

“Your highness, I must serve.” 

“As he must. Did he not swear himself to the old king? Eh? War does muddy the waters,” he muses, “coin does test old ties.” 

You say nothing. Your comment isn’t warranted or wanted. You know better. Jazlene taught you only to answer when asked. 

“Very well,” he taps your fingers, “I feel better. You have a kind touch.” 

You back away and wipe your hands on your apron. He hangs his head back and puffs. He closes his eyes. You watch the white waves made wilder by the humidity of the bath. 

“I hate sleeping in strange places,” he says, “you will stay for the eve.” 

You tuck your chin down and fold your hands together. Your scalp sweats beneath your cap, your shorn locks itchy with the heat. You wet your lips and force out the air trapped in your chest, “yes, your highness. As my master bid, I will serve you.” 

He says nothing more as he leans back against the tub completely. His large arms frame the metal and his hands wrap around the edges. He closes his shining eyes in recline, the water still and steaming. He stays that way until the damp heat dissipates. You stand locked in his thrall. 

He sits forward suddenly, the water stirring with his movement. He turns his hand and beckons with his thick fingers. 

“A bath sheet,” he demands. 

You go to the chest in the corner and open it. You retrieve a folded swath of fabric and bring it to him. He stands as you unfold the length of linen to obscure his form. Your eyes are on the ceiling as the water slakes from his figure and he looms large above you. 

He steps out, close to you, and puts his hands over yours. He pulls the sheet around his body, your arms too. He releases you only as he adjusts the fabric around his waist and you retract with humiliation nipping in your cheeks. You lean back on your heel as you shrink in his shadow. 

“Your highness, do you require refreshment? Wine? Sweetmeats?” 

“I did not ask for it,” he says, “I am tired.” 

“Apologies, your highness.” 

“Do not apologise for doing your duty. Would be a fairer world if more were so diligent.” 

He turns and strides away. There’s a knapsack and bedroll against the wall. He keeps one hand on the sheet and unbuckles the flap, reaching within and tugging out a bed shirt. He drops the sheet away and your eyes flit away from his nakedness. He has no shame but you are merely a servant. He shouldn’t care for your witness. 

He swipes the fabric over his head and it falls just to his thighs, concealing just enough to have him decent. His thick legs are trimmed in dark hair and the muscles are taut beneath his skin. He faces the bed and pulls back the quilt and linen. He pauses and looks up at you. 

“Will you sleep afoot then?” He wonders. 

“Your highness?” You wince. “I must...” you peer around, “empty the bath.” 

“Must you? Stagnant water can wait,” he insists. “Come.” 

You waver, skirts rippling around your legs. You step forward and stagger. 

“The lantern, your highness?” You inquire. 

“Douse the light if you will,” he allows. “And come.” 

You do as he bids and snuff out the flame. Your vision is left blackened and formless. You reach out blindly, realising your error too late. You can’t see much as you walk warily towards the bed. The heavy curtains are shut and block out the sliver of moonlight. 

Your knees hit the bed and you gasp. You catch yourself before you can fall forward, leaning against the mattress. You’re stuck like that, uncertain if you should go forward or back. Something wraps around your wrist, a stolid heat. 

“I often sleep with my horse,” the king says as he draws you onto the bed. “I need a warm body close.” 

You go rigid as you let him command your body. He guides you to lay down and tugs the bedclothes over you. The damp specks on your dress and apron cling to your skin. He leads your head over his thick arm as he lays on his back neck to you. You stare into the endless void of the canopy. 

“The horse smells much worse and snores,” he muses, his arm curling around your shoulders, offering a more comfortable rest for your head and neck. You quiver at being so close. It is an odd request but you daren’t decline it. “Be still,” his other hand comes to touch your sleeve, “and sleep. I only mean to ease my own unrest.” 

You close your eyes and exhale. Your heart is pounding and your body is tingling. You don’t think you can sleep with the surge flowing through you. He sighs and shifts slightly. You lay there, in silence, only the noise of his breath and yours to fill the castle walls. 

“I am awake,” he says. “Speak to me, maid. Tell me, where do you lay your head on nights where a king does not trouble you?” 

You wiggle slightly. Your spine is uncomfortable at the flatness but not worse than your usual fare. You bring your hand over your chest and fist your fingers tight. 

“On a bag of hay with Merinda,” you utter smally, pushing your legs together as you arch your back slightly. Your hips are tight. 

You’re startled as the bed jostles and he grips your hip. He rolls you onto your side, his touch lingers as he pulls you against him. He is as hot as a hearth. 

“Merinda?” He repeats. 

“Another handmaid, your highness.” 

He hums and drags his hand away from your hip. He blows out a great heavy and grunts. His arm curls around you snugly. 

“I hope I am preferable to that bag of hay,” he mutters and the tension seeps away from his form. “Though perhaps just as prickly.” 

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #winter's king #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au

[writer-freak]

Dates | Hazbin x Gn reader

Characters: Lucifer, Vox, Husk and Rosie

Warnings: gn reader, mentions of reader possibly being a cannibal in Rosie's part, I think everything else is pretty fluffy, english isn't my first language

A/n: So I'm currently busy with a personal fanfic for me and my friends so I haven't spent that much time with writing stuff for Tumblr but here are a few headcanons that I wrote real quick.

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more <3

Lucifer:

I think Lucifer would sometimes use his authority as the King of hell to give you the best dates ever

He would take you to exclusive restaurants that are like super fancy for hell and would even book out the entire restaurant so that you could spend time together just the two of you 

If you want to visit a specific location he will do everything in his power so that you two can go there

Though I do think he personally would be particularly fond of spending just time with you at home

Maybe watching a movie and cuddling, I think after Lilith left he would be quite a touch-starved 

And now that he is finally ready again for a relationship he just really enjoys being as close as possible to you

I think as gifts he would often handmake you things but if there is something specific that you talked about wanting but are not able to get at the moment he would buy it for you in an instant

Vox:

He would definitely take reader on some overly fancy dates, you would be sitting in a restaurant where you wouldn't be able to afford a meal with your entire month's salary

But Vox obviously tells you to get anything that you want as he will pay for it

In general, he would really shower you with the money that he has

Gifts from him would be something overly fancy and expensive and even if you tell him you don't need that stuff he will still give it to you

In general, I think he tends to be a bit overly obsessive so he probably will never let you leave his sight

The gifts are almost ways to ensure that you will stay by his side even if it's just because you feel bad that he spends so much money on you

Husk:

I think Husk personally prefers more chill and relaxed dates

At least when he has some free time for them, because if Alastor just wants him behind the bar all day then he has no say in what he wants to do

So often your dates are just you sitting at the bar while Husk is working

But hey at least you can spend some time together

But outside of that, I think if you wanna go out it could be like a chill bar date with good music if you can find that kind of place in hell

Or you two just spend time in each other's rooms 

Cuddling together while watching a movie and maybe you can give Husk a massage until he starts to purr loudly

I think he would give you some good liquor that you two can share together or in general something more practical that you can actually use 

He just enjoys being able to relax with you and forget about everything else

Rosie:

I think Rosie is almost playful while dating, she just has this really charming personality

She would take you out around cannibal town maybe to a nice cafe or restaurant around there

Or even better a picnic in a park with food from her own shop she really wants to make sure that you are eating well

I can kinda imagine her also enjoying spending time with you playing music, singing and dancing together

I think she would handmake you some gifts and in general, she is someone who would regularly just gift you something because she likes seeing you happy

She would just really cherish you and always shower you with compliments

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

#gn reader #x reader #gender neutral #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #headcanons #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husker #husker #hazbin vox #hazbin rosie #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox x reader #vox the tv demon #vees #vox hazbin hotel #vox fluff #vox fanfiction #rosie hazbin hotel #rosie x reader #hazbin hotel rosie #husk hazbin hotel

[writingforstraykids]

I owe you a kiss - Pt.9

Pairing: Minchan x femReader

Word Count: 2943

Summary: Minho and you spend a day at the art gallery, Chan takes you out for dinner by the river. Both of them try their best to make room for you and reconnect. You haven't been so happy in a while.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, dinner date, museum date, soft!min, soft!chan

A/N: Thought I'd surprise you with another chapter today that I wrote after posting chapter 8. I think we could use the fluff🤭🖤

PART EIGHT | PART TEN (coming soon)

You exchange a soft smile with your husband, tilting your head at him. “You’re okay?” you ask gently. For a moment, all you can hear is the low hum of the city life outside the window. 

“Let’s go out today?” he asks suddenly, his voice cutting through the calm. “Just you and me.”

You study Minho’s face, swallowing at the hope in his eyes. It’s been three weeks since you clashed and you’ve been working on easing out the many strains those past months have taken on your life. Sometimes, Minho seemed a little hesitant, not knowing if you’d let him in enough. “Where would we go?” you ask, allowing a small smile to cover your lips.

“You mentioned that art exhibit at the new gallery downtown a few days ago. I thought you might want to see?” he suggests gently.

You feel warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of him still remembering that. “That sounds wonderful,” you say excitedly. “I would love to.”

“Yeah?” He smiles so sweetly that you reach out for him. He leans into your touch as you caress his cheek and searches your eyes carefully.

“Yes, darling,” you mirror his smile.

The two of you get ready in comfortable silence, side by side, occasionally sharing glances that hold soft smiles and unspoken words. As you step outside, hand in hand, the city greets you with the vibrant colors of an early evening. The sun, low in the sky, paints everything in hues of orange and gold.

The gallery is a modern space with stark white walls filled with vibrant art. You wander through the exhibits, Minho’s presence a steady warmth at your side. You’re busy looking at the different pieces, but his eyes can’t stop finding you. Once more, he notices how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, and how safe you always make him feel. A small smile settles on his lips as he watches you, following you around the rooms willingly. 

At one painting, a chaotic blend of dark and light, you pause longer than at the others. Minho beside you observes the play of emotions across your face. “What do you see?” he asks quietly, not asking about the painting but the meaning you give it.

Your eyes linger on the canvas, chewing your lip a little. “Struggle,” you say, your voice soft in the almost empty room. “But there’s beauty in it too. The colors clash, and still they harmonize…it’s almost like…,” you pause, not quite sure if you should continue.

“It’s like us,” Minho finishes for you, his voice barely above a whisper. He turns to look at you, his gaze filled with understanding. “Finding our beauty in the struggle. Finding some light in the darkness.”

You meet his gaze, your heart aching at the truth of his words. You reach for his hand, fingers intertwining naturally as if they were made to fit together. “Thank you for bringing me here,” you say, your voice thick with emotion.

Minho’s thumb strokes your hand gently, and his eyes soften. “I’d go anywhere with you,” he replies.

You continue your walk through the gallery, and once you step outside, the sky has turned into a velvety blue, and and stars begin to peek out. You decide to take a little detour on your way back home, walking through the park. The city sounds soften in the background, replaced by the rustle of leaves and distant laughter.

The park is lit by scattered lamps, casting their golden lights on the winding path. You walk slowly, comfortable in the peace you feel with him. At a bench by the duck pond, you sit down with him, gazing at the water that glitters beneath the moonlight.

The air is cool by now, a gentle breeze teasing your skin, making you shiver. Minho notices almost immediately, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm hug. You lean against him, head resting against his shoulder, and sigh happily. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Minho confesses, voice laced with a warmth that reminds you he’s your home. “I missed just being with you without having to try and function. Just..us.”

You turn to look at him, eyes finding his in the dim light. “We don’t always have to be strong, do we? We can just be us, flaws and all.”

“No, we don’t always have to be strong,” Minho agrees, his hand gently cupping your face. As long as we’re together…that’s enough. That’s more than I could’ve ever asked for,” he whispers. Your lips meet in a gentle kiss before he squeezes your shoulder. “Let’s get back home, hm?”

The walk back is quiet but comfortable. As you reach the doorstep, Minho stops, turning to you with a serious expression on his face. “Let’s make a promise,” he says, eyes locking with yours. “No matter what happens, we keep fighting together, we keep finding beauty in the chaos.”

You nod, face softening at the desperation in his eyes. “I promise.”

Minho leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss to seal your promise. It’s soft and sweet and holds the promise and gentle words of today. “Come on, honey. Let’s see if Channie’s home yet,” he says, and you nod happily.

Inside, the house is quiet, making the atmosphere feel almost too serene. As you shed your coats and shoes, Minho calls out gently, not wanting to startle Chan, who might be home. There's no response, and he leads you through to the kitchen, where a note on the counter catches your eye.

"Out with Felix and Binnie. Don't wait up. - Chan" reads the neatly penned message, Minho's lips turning up in a small, knowing smile. "Guess it's just us tonight," he comments.

You nod, missing Chan but also relishing the quiet intimacy that the evening promises with just the two of you. "What do you feel like for dinner?" you ask, turning towards the fridge.

Minho shrugs, watching you with an affectionate gaze. "Anything's fine, as long as I'm with you," he replies, his tone soft. 

Deciding on something light and easy, you opt to make a salad with all the fresh ingredients you have, adding grilled chicken for some warmth and substance. Minho sets the table, his movements relaxed, a playlist of soft music filling the background.

As you both sit down to eat, the conversation flows more freely than it has in weeks. Gradually, the dialogue drifts towards more personal topics, about how you've both been feeling and the little things you've missed about each other.

"It's been tough, hasn't it?" Minho says at one point, his fork paused halfway to his mouth. "But nights like this... they remind me why it's worth it. Why we're worth it."

You reach across the table, your hand covering his. "It has been tough. But I wouldn't want to face it with anyone but you," you admit, your voice thick with emotion.

After dinner, you clear the dishes together, a routine that feels comforting in its normalcy. Minho washes, you dry, and there's a gentle efficiency to your movements, a dance you've performed countless times before, each step familiar and reassuring.

With the kitchen tidied up, Minho suggests a walk outside. The night air is still warm enough to be inviting. "Let's just walk around the block, a little night stroll," he proposes, and you agree readily.

Outside, the neighborhood is quiet. Most of the houses are dimmed for the evening, and their inhabitants are likely winding down much like yourselves. You walk hand in hand, your steps unhurried, the silence between you comfortable and easy.

At one point, Minho stops, pulling you into a gentle embrace. "I love you," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I don't say it enough, but I do. So very much."

"I love you too," you respond, leaning back to look into his eyes. “And you're right. Nights like tonight remind me of us, of what we have and what we're fighting for."

Returning home, you settle onto the sofa, Minho pulling a blanket over you both. You lean into him, your head on his shoulder, and he kisses the top of your head.

"Let's not wait so long to do this again," you suggest, your voice muffled against his shirt.

"Yeah," Minho says, his arm tightening around you. 

As you nod in agreement, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, you realize that the struggles and the chaos of the past weeks have not been in vain. They've brought you to this moment, safe in Minho’s arms.

-

Chan finds himself back earlier than he planned. After his evening out, he feels the pull of home - of you and Minho - stronger than the laughter and light of the city streets. As he approaches the house, his heart is a mix of nerves and hope. He unlocks the door quietly, half-expecting to find the house still echoing with the tension of previous weeks.

Instead, he steps into a soft-lit silence, low music playing in the living room where he finds you and Minho asleep on the sofa, intertwined under a shared blanket. The sight makes him stop in the doorway, a gentle smile spreading across his face as relief washes over him. Here, in this scene of peaceful slumber, he sees the healing that has begun between you. It almost feels as if you’ve never struggled.

Chan sets down his keys quietly and walks over, his movements gentle to avoid waking you. The intimacy of the moment - the way Minho's arm encircles your waist, how your head rests against his chest - is so sweet. It reminds him of the depth of love and commitment that binds you together, a stark contrast to the coldness that had crept into your interactions lately.

Chan reaches down, tenderly brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch is feather-light, a silent vow to himself to mend the threads of your relationship that he's held too loosely. The small action makes you stir, and your eyes flutter open, meeting his in a sleepy state.

"Channie," you mumble, your voice thick with sleep. "You're back early."

He nods, his hand moving from your hair to gently squeeze your shoulder. "Couldn't stay away too long," he admits, his voice low and warm. "I missed home."

Minho stirs next to you, his eyes opening to Chan's familiar presence. "Hey," he greets, his voice rough with sleep "We were just waiting up for you," Minho teases lightly, though the crinkles by his eyes show his sincerity. He sits up, adjusting the blanket over you, ensuring you're still covered and warm.

Chan chuckles softly, the sound soothing the lingering edges of his earlier anxiety. "It looks like you did more sleeping than waiting," he observes gently.

"Join us," you say, patting the space beside you. 

As Chan settles beside you, the weight of the past weeks—the misunderstandings, fears, and pain—seems to lift slightly. Together, you sit in the soft glow of the room, the silence comfortable, filled only with the soft sounds of your synchronized breathing.

As the evening deepens into night, you all decide it's time to move from the sofa to the bed. Hand in hand, you help each other tidy up the living space before heading to the bedroom.

You all get comfortable in bed, Chan, in the middle this time, turns to face each of you, his eyes holding a soft light. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "For this. For us."

Minho reaches to squeeze his hand. “We love you, Channie.”

“I love you too,” he smiles happily.

-

Chan had suggested it: a quiet evening out, just the two of you. You agreed to the promise of a few hours solely with him, which sounded too good to pass. Chan suggested a small restaurant by the river, one that promised a breathtaking view.

Now that the evening is here, you feel nervous, a soft flutter in your stomach. It reminds you of the early days, the first few dates, and the awkward dance of not wanting to choose between Minho and him. You spend quite some time picking your outfit, wanting to feel beautiful and hoping to see the spark in Chan’s eyes you haven’t seen in a while.

Chan is not one bit less nervous than you are, choosing a simple but elegant shirt he knows you like. When he sees you, ready and waiting, his breath catches in his throat. “You look so beautiful,” he manages, his voice rough with emotion. The sincerity in his gaze and the slow smile covering his lips make your heart beat faster, and your eyes water a little.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

“Thanks,” he smiles shyly, blushing a little.

The drive to the restaurant is quiet, with music playing in the background. Chan parks near the river just as the sun is slowly dipping below the horizon, painting the water with a golden glow.

Hand in hand, you walk to the cozy restaurant, which has soft lighting and a gentle, nonintrusive conversation. You choose a table near a window with a view of the river, now shimmering under the first touches of twilight.

You two fall into easy conversation as you eat, yet beneath the lightness of their conversation, deeper topics linger at the edges, waiting.  "Y/n," he begins, his voice serious but gentle. “I know things have been tough. I know I've been... distant. Not because I want to be, but because I've been scared - scared of doing the wrong thing, of saying the wrong thing."

"Chan, I understand. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed, too, scared of pushing you away or making things harder for you,” you admit gently.

“I never meant to feel like you couldn’t come to me…or that Min is more important to me,” he tells you guiltily. 

“I know,” you reply, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “But we're here now, and that’s what matters. We can find our way back together.”

Chan’s smile returns, his eyes lighting up as if a weight has been lifted. “I’d like that. A lot.”

As dinner comes to an end, Chan suggests a walk along the river. The cool breeze from the water is refreshing, and the rhythmic sound of the waves against the shore is soothing. 

“Look at the moon,” Chan points up, and you both stop to gaze at the full moon, casting a silver glow over the river. It’s beautiful and peaceful, and for a moment, it feels like everything is right in the world.

“It’s gorgeous,” you comment, leaning into him.

Chan wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Not as gorgeous as you,” he says, which makes you both chuckle.

The moment feels right, and you stop walking and turn to face him. “Chan, thank you for tonight. It means a lot to me. I’ve missed just being with you like this.”

He cups your face gently, his touch tender. “I’ve missed it, too—more than I realized. Let’s not let it go again, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, and he leans in to kiss you softly and sweetly under the moonlight by the river.

On the drive home, the car is filled with comfortable silence. A song that you both love comes on the radio, and Chan reaches over to turn it up. You smile and start to sing along quietly. He joins in, and soon, you’re both laughing and singing at the top of your lungs.

Chan parks the car in front of your house and turns to you with a giddy smile. You smile softly, leaning over to cup his face. “My beautiful Channie angel,” you whisper, and he blushes a little. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he smiles shyly. “My sweet baby girl.”

Minho greets you with a gentle smile as you step inside. “Had fun, you two?” he asks gently, giggling surprised as you give him a long, soft kiss. “Hey, darling,” he whispers adoringly.

“Come cuddle with us?” you plead softly, making him laugh.

“Please?” Chan asks sweetly, kissing his cheek.

“Fine, fine,” he laughs. “Go get ready for bed, I’ll be there in a bit,” he promises.

Not much later you’re all comfortable in bed. You’re in the middle, feeling safe between them. To your left, Minho’s warmth is a comforting pressure against your side, his arm thrown loosely over your waist. His fingers draw mindless patterns on the fabric of your nightshirt. Chan’s body is curved around yours protectively, his breath softly tickling your neck. Minho shifts a little, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His eyes meet Chan’s in a silent agreement of how much they love you. 

“Comfortable?” Minho asks softly, barely above a whisper, as if he’s scared of speaking too loudly.

“Very,” you nod, agreeing. You turn your head slightly to smile at him, reaching to touch his cheek. Chan responds by tightening his embrace around you, his hand splaying across your stomach, grounding you.

The room falls into a comfortable silence, the only sounds are the soft rustling of the sheets and the steady, rhythmic breathing of three hearts in sync. You find yourself tracing the lines of Chan’s hand after a while, feeling the strength and warmth of his fingers intertwined with yours. Minho, feeling a surge of affection, leans over to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead, then Chan’s jaw. Chan smiles at the gesture, a small, happy sound escaping his lips. It feels perfect.

PART EIGHT | PART TEN (coming soon)

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

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Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

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[allthingsfangirl101]

Extreme Proof – Steve Harrington

Tumblr Request by theamunsonsworld

My heart sank into my stomach when I looked up and saw Nancy Wheeler walking up to the ice cream counter. My stomach turned when I realized that it was Steve's turn at the cash register. I couldn't help but watch their interaction. They seemed. . . Perfect.

Steve and Nancy always seemed perfect. His smile was different. His laugh was different. His whole demeanor and attitude were different when he was around his ex-girlfriend. And I couldn't help but wonder why he settled for me.

I knew Steve and Nancy when they were dating. Well, I didn't know them know them. I grew up with them. I was in the same grade as Nancy and lived next to Steve and his parents. After they broke up, I could instantly tell that it had a bigger effect on Steve than it did on Nancy. She quickly moved on. He didn't.

Later that year, I started working at the ice cream shop within the new mall. I ended up being trained with Robin. Two months later, I trained Steve. It took him almost a week to recognize me as his neighbor. Once he made that connection, he put more of an effort into being nice to me. It wasn't until one night when the three of us got high while pretending to complete inventory that things finally escalated between us.

~ • ~

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Robin giggled. Her laughter made Steve and I laugh.

"Probably not," he shrugged.

"Definitely not," I corrected. "But who cares?!"

All three of us started laughing harder. All of a sudden, Robin jumped up and ran into the other room complaining about being hungry. I looked over at Steve, both of our laughter stopping. I cleared my throat and turned away from him, taking a puff. Without looking at him, I handed the blunt to him. He took it but didn't let go of my hand.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N," he whispered.

"For what?" I asked, forgetting why I wasn't looking at him.

"For forgetting you," he explained, his voice still soft.

"Steve," I sighed, finally pulling my hand out of his.

"Y/N," he quickly said, stopping me from walking away. "We spent our entire childhoods living right next to each other. I constantly looked over."

"You did?" I said, even though I had told myself not to respond.

"Every time I looked over at you, you guys always looked so happy," he said, maintaining perfect eye contact. "You ate dinner together. You watched movies together. Your dad helped you with your homework. You spent every weekend helping your dad with yard work and helping your mom with housework. I was so jealous."

"Why?"

"You guys did everything as a family," he said. "And all I wanted was to be a part of it."

"A part of it?" I repeated. "Why would you want to be a part of my. . ."

Steve leaned over and cut me off by pressing his lips to mine. My mind was too cloudy for me to make any sense of this. So, instead of making sense of it, I gave in. I started kissing him back and things slowly escalated. We probably would've gone the whole way if Robin hadn't literally fallen into the room.

~ • ~

After that night, I didn't work the weekend. Another teenager asked for extra hours and I gave up mine. Monday, when I finally went back to work, I walked in and instantly made eye contact with Steve. Before either one of us was forced to fill the awkward silence, I went to the back room and found my name tag. I turned around and was about to walk back out when I suddenly wasn't alone.

~ • ~

"Steve," I gasped. "I was just. . ."

He cut me off by grabbing my hands and pulling me closer. "I think we need to talk."

"We really. . ."

He cut me off again by pressing his lips to mine. I was clear-headed and still didn't hesitate to kiss him back. As our lips moved in sync, I let out a small chuckle. My laugh made Steve slowly break the kiss.

"What?" He asked with a small smirk on his face.

"I seem to see a pattern developing," I teased.

"And what pattern is that?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

"From what I can remember from last Thursday," I smiled, "you seem to only kiss me when you want me to shut up."

"First of all," he started to list off, "there are worse ways to tell someone to shut up. And second, that's not the only reason I kissed you."

"Really?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Of course it's not," he whispered. "The truth is Y/N, I have feelings for you."

My heart jumped into my throat as Steve stared at me with soft eyes. "You do?" I whispered, not sure what else to say to him. "Since when?"

"Since we were kids," he said simply.

"All that time?" I stuttered. Steve smiled as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"All that time."

~ • ~

Things changed after that. Steve took me on lunch dates, rearranged his work schedule so we were on the same shift, and even came by the days he didn't work and I did. As good as everything was for us, I couldn't shake this feeling that something was hovering over us. It didn't take long for me to figure out what was hovering over us.

When it got too painful to watch Steve take Nancy's ice cream order, I turned around and instantly grabbed the broom from the storage closet. I kept my back to the counter as I swept the floor. When I was done, I instantly started cleaning tables.

"I thought I was on cleanup duty," Robin said. I didn't dare turn around. I didn't want to watch Steve make Nancy's ice cream sundae. I heard Robin sigh before she grabbed my hand. She took the rag and tossed it onto an empty booth before dragging me to the small lounge we had back behind the counter.

"Talk," she demanded.

"About what?"

"Don't play dumb," she sighed. She lowered her voice as she continued, "I know what you're thinking, Y/N. Steve is not in love with Nancy."

"It's just. . ."

"He's not," she cut me off. "Steve and Nancy happened a long time ago. He's so much happier now, Y/N. Now that he has you."

"I can't help but. . ."

"What?" She pushed me when I didn't continue.

"I can't let go of the feeling that Steve still has feelings for her," I confessed. I looked up and saw Steve and Nancy still talking at the counter. "See?"

Robin turned around and sighed when she saw my boyfriend talking to his ex-girlfriend. "I'm sure you're reading into it," she stuttered. "I mean. . ."

I didn't hear whatever excuse she was struggling to come up with. Instead, I went to the back freezer and started unloading random things. I jumped when two arms wrapped around me.

"You know I love you, Robin," I said, trying to tease, "but not like that."

"Ha ha," Steve laughed sarcastically as he spun me around. His smile faltered when he saw the look on my face. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "Why wouldn't it be?"

I walked away and reached down, picking up a tub of our new flavor that's been selling fast. Steve walked over, gently grabbed it out of my hands, and placed it back on the shelf.

"What's going on, baby?" He asked, his voice lowering to a whisper.

"It's nothing," I stuttered, matching his tone.

"Robin told me."

My stomach dropped. I pulled my hands out of his and instantly wrapped my arms around myself.

"Baby," he sighed, gently grabbing my arms and pulling me closer. "We've talked about this. There is nothing between me and Nancy anymore."

He started to lean in to kiss me, but I gently stopped him. "We should get back to work," I said softly. I started walking out of the freezer, but he grabbed my wrist.

"No," he said firmly. "Y/N, we need to talk about this. We have talked about this. I know you think you aren't good enough for me, but, baby, you need to get passed those insecurities."

"Get passed them," I scoffed, stepping away from him. "Like it's so easy. Tell me, Steve, how easy was it for you to get past your insecurities with high school and being known as Steve "the Hair" Harrington? Not so easy, huh?"

"That's not fair," he sighed.

"You don't get it," I said, my voice breaking. "Nancy. . . She's. . . Nancy Wheeler is everything that I'm not."

"Except for one thing," Steve quickly interjected. "She isn't the girl I want to be with. She's not you, Y/N. And I want to be with you."

"You have to try to understand, Steve. This isn't easy for me. I mean. . . I've never had a serious boyfriend before and. . . Seeing you with her. . . It's not easy on me, okay? It just. . ."

"What?" He asked a little too harshly. "Try and explain it to me, Y/N."

"I can't," I whispered. "And if you can't understand it then. . ."

"Then what?" He sighed, clearly losing his patience with me.

"Then maybe we shouldn't be together."

Before he could agree with me or fight for me, I turned on my heels and ran. I ran out of the ice cream shop, out of the mall. When I got outside, I stopped for a brief second and let out a small scoff.

It was raining.

"Of course," I mumbled. I looked around, my eyes landing on the payphone. I ran through the rain toward the payphone. I grabbed some coins out of my pocket and called my brother.

"Speak!" He answered.

"Eddie," I said, my voice breaking.

"What happened?" His whole demeanor changed. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"I think. . . I think Steve and I just broke up."

"What?!" I covered my mouth to muffle my sob as Eddie continued to angrily mumble. "I swear I am going to. . . It'll be the last thing. . . I'm gonna kill. . . Wait, what happened?"

"Nancy came into the shop today," I said, my voice shaky.

"Y/N," Eddie sighed. "Steve is not still in love with Nancy. It's all in your head."

"But you didn't see them together, Ed," I instantly defended myself.

"Look," he said gently, "I know you've had your issues with your self-confidence and with constantly comparing yourself to Nancy Wheeler, but, you gotta stop. It doesn't matter that Steve and Nancy used to have a thing. He's not with her anymore."

"He's with me," I cut him off. "I know. I know. But it's not like it was his choice."

"What are you talking about?"

"She broke up with him, Eddie," I said, my voice dropping.

"So?"

"That doesn't mean he stopped loving her."

"Y/N," he sighed. "I believe Steve when he says he doesn't love Nancy anymore. Why don't you?"

"Because why would he want me?" I yelled, finally letting out all my insecurities and frustrations. "I'm boring, Eddie. I don't have any friends. All I do is go to school, come home, do my homework, and go to bed a 9. Why would Steve "the Hair" Harrington fall for someone as boring as me? I'm not smart. I'm not funny. I'm not beautiful. I'm not enough for him, Eddie. Why does no one else understand this?!"

I slammed the phone back onto its receiver and turned around. Usually, Steve takes me home from work, but I had to get out of here. I saw the bus at the bus stop and instantly started running towards it in hopes of catching it.

One minute I was running through the rain. The next, I was falling. As I landed, I hit my head hard. I tried to think. I tried to sit up. I tried to move, but it was like I was frozen. Soon, the world started to spin. It wasn't long before the darkness took over. But right before it did, I thought I heard someone yell my name.

"Y/N?!"

* * * * *

I woke up a little while later being warmer than I was when I first fell asleep.

"I told you, Eddie," I heard my Uncle Wayne sigh, "she hit her head pretty hard. She may be out for a couple of more hours."

"She's awake," I heard Steve say with a small chuckle.

"How do you. . ." Eddie didn't finish his question when he turned around and saw me watching them. I was back in my room and the three of them were standing in the doorway.

I smiled when Eddie ran to my side. He was already sitting next to me and holding my hand by the time Uncle Wayne walked into my room.

"How are you feeling, kiddo?" He asked me.

"Okay," I shrugged. "I think. I mean. . . I'm a little confused."

"You slipped," Steve said, his voice softer than normal.

"What?" I stuttered.

"You were running toward the bus," Steve explained as he slowly walked into my room. "With the rain and the puddles, you slipped. I walked out of the mall right as you fell. I ran over to you, but you were barely conscious."

"Oh," I said under my breath. Suddenly, a thick tension fell between the two of us. If it wasn't for that tension, I would've laughed when Uncle Wayne hit Eddie's arm.

"We'll give you two some privacy," he said as he practically dragged Eddie out of my room. As soon as it was just us two, Steve sat on the edge of my bed.

"We need to talk about this," he said softly. "I can't stand the idea of you thinking you're not good enough for me."

"I just. . ."

"Please," he gently cut me off. "I need to say some things and I need you to hear them, okay? You are enough for me, Y/N. You are the perfect girl for me. I know you struggle with my and Nancy's friendship. If I could make it better for you, I would. The only way I can start to make it better is to tell you that I am completely, one hundred percent over Nancy Wheeler. I am also completely, one hundred percent into you. I don't know why you think you're not enough for me, but you are. You are enough, baby. No one is better for me. You make me extremely happy. You make it so I don't have to be fake. If I'm not happy, you know it. If I'm struggling, you know what to do to help me. I promise, Y/N, there is nothing between me and Nancy. Not anymore. Not ever again. I haven't had feelings for her for a long time. You make me happy. There is no one in this world I would rather be with than you."

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. He instantly wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. Every insecurity, every worry, disappeared as we kissed. Steve broke the kiss, both of us breathing heavily.

"I don't just want you," he whispered. "I love you."

"I love you too," I said, my voice breaking. My smile fell as I continued, "I'm really sorry, Steve. I never should've. . . I shouldn't. . . I was wrong. I should've believed you when you kept telling me you were over her."

"It's okay," he soothed. "But next time, promise me that you'll talk to me if you ever feel something like that again. Please, baby. Promise me."

"I promise."

Steve smiled as I pulled him toward me and laid down. That night, I fell asleep with Steve's arms wrapped tightly around me.

#steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #requested imagine #joe keery #joe keery request #steve harrington request

[nataliasquote]

This Is Me Trying | n romanoff

Summary: Inspired by ‘this is me trying’ by Taylor Swift

Warnings: angst, break up, slight toxic relationship, alcoholism, glass smashing, no happy ending sorry

wc: 2.3k

note: happy TTPD countdown day :) thought it would be a good idea to post a Taylor fic before all I think and talk about for the next few days is TTPD 🤍

-⧗-

Some relationships are simply not meant to be. No matter how hard you force it, or swear that it will get better, the foundations were cracked from the beginning and no amount of work will ever truly fix them.

And as Natasha stood in the pouring rain, the wilting bouquet of flowers hanging limply by her side as you shut the door in her face, her resolve threatened to crumple like the cellophane in her palm.

She was convinced you were the love of her life. Days with you used to feel breathless and electric, a stark contrast to the strained atmosphere between the two of you now.

Natasha had tried everything. She gave her notice in at work, not just retreating to desk work but quitting all together, just for you. It was what you wanted, you’d made that clear. Your nerves couldn’t handle Natasha in that field for a day longer.

But that wasn’t enough; nothing ever would be. No matter what Natasha did, you were never going to work out. She quit her life for you, and somehow the rift expanded at twice the rate. Constant arguments and fights inevitably lead to an explosion of words that led to you storming out, the slam of the door rattling the windows in their frames.

You walked out that day and took a piece of her heart with you, leaving a broken redhead on her knees in the echoing apartment. Natasha began her free fall, not having work to consume every moment she had anymore.

How did Shield’s top agent drop so far behind that she was passed out on the couch mid afternoon, a bottle of vodka just out of reach of her fingers as her arm hung off the couch. Her hair was greasy, scraped back into a messy ponytail and her skin was blotchy as a result of her neglect.

When she wasn’t asleep, she watched her phone with her knees pulled up to her chest. It sat on the other side of the couch, the screen blank, and she almost bore holes into the glass from how hard she stared. Just willing a message to come through. A reply to the fifteen texts she’d sent you. One for every day you’d been gone, pouring what was left of her heart into an apology and promising to do better.

She thought she was the problem, her clouded judgment not allowing her to see that you weren’t all that innocent either. She never blamed you for being paranoid, working as a nurse in the busiest ER in the state had your nerves frayed anyway. Nevermind always being scared that you’d see your girlfriend on one of those gurneys, her name being added to a list of patients you’d lost under your care.

Fear made you cold and you took it out on Natasha. Did she deserve it? Absolutely not, but your words were out before you could stop them. The hot headedness between you both always clashed and on the nights you couldn’t solve it with heavy make up sex, at least one of you would be yelling whilst the other sat with their head in their hands.

Natasha didn’t know what she was doing when it came to love, you were her first and by the looks of it, her last. She was too hard on herself, and it hurt you to listen to the way she berated herself after a failed mission. But whenever her mind was set, there was no changing it. Harsh or soft, your words did nothing to change her destructive mindset and it was beginning to get to you. You wanted your home to be light, a place filled with love that you could return to after a horrible day. But instead it was dependent on how Natasha felt and whether you were going to be walking on eggshells that night or not.

But there was only so much creeping around you could do before your patience snapped. You didn’t mean to shout but it all happened so fast and suddenly there was glass everywhere and the last thing you knew you had grabbed your scarf and fled. Hands shaking on the wheel as you pulled up to a red light, pressing decline as Natasha’s name flashed up on your phone for the third time.

Twenty missed calls. Fifteen texts. Natasha was close to smashing her phone against the wall too. Her nose ran as she sat there, chin on her arm. Ears barely even registering the sound of the doorknob twisting or keys rattling in the door. She just wanted that message to appear, or even a phone call.

What she’d do to hear your voice again.

Heavy but tentative footsteps sounded down the hall before they stopped in the doorway of the living room. Natasha only looked up when a cough caught her attention, and the brunette in the doorway was certainly not who she was expecting to see.

“Y/n has gone to stay with her brother,” the woman began, her arms folded, unimpressed with the state of her friend. “Bucky told me everything that happened. Oh, and you look like shit.”

“Thanks, ‘Ria,” Natasha grumbled sarcastically, her voice low and monotonous. Maria walked over and grabbed her arm, surprisingly met with very little resistance as she pulled the redhead up off the couch and shoved her in the direction of the bathroom.

“I’m gonna clean up in here, you need to shower, and then we’ll talk.” Natasha went to protest but abruptly shut her mouth at Maria’s raised brow. “I’m moving past the fact that you haven’t called in about three months, so go, sort yourself out Nat. This isn’t like you.”

As the redhead trudged off to the bathroom, Maria collected up the empty bottles, shaking her head at the amount she found. How the same woman who had set records in Shield’s history and had the most prolific skill set she knew, had now drank herself into such a mess, Maria had no idea. Bucky hadn’t said much on your state but she doubted you were thriving either.

Once the living room was straightened out and all the bottles hidden away, Natasha emerged from the bathroom looking slightly better. She relayed the details from two weeks ago and Maria’s face fell at how Natasha barely kept it together. Her chapped lips trembled and her nails itched at the scars across her hands as she spoke, eyes looking everywhere but her friend.

“I still love her and it’s fucking terrifying,” Natasha cried, sinking her head into her hands as she hunched over her knees. “I’m not cut out for this love stuff, but I want it with her and now I’ve lost her. She won’t call, text, nothing, I’ve never felt so lost. I don’t even know what to do!”

“Nat, just breathe for a second or you’re gonna have a panic attack,” Maria interjected, leaning forward in her chair slightly ready to assist if needed. But Natasha just slumped back against the misshapen cushion and sighed heavily, zoning out on a bottle of whisky beside the tv.

“I’m trying, Maria. I’m really trying but she doesn’t want anything to do with me. What am I doing wrong?”

Maria shook her head and moved onto the end of Natasha’s couch. “You’re not doing anything wrong Nat, I promise. Ok, so the drinking was a shitty move, but at least you’re trying.” Her words seemingly fell on deaf ears but Natasha had heard her. And they resonated hard.

At least I’m trying… right?

“When was the last time you left the house?”

“I can’t,” Natasha croaked, her teeth chewing on her lip again. “I can’t go anywhere because all I see is her. It’s really fucking hard when every tiny thing is a reminder of her and what I’ve lost. Even the films, for god’s sake! I can’t even numb myself with tv because she’s somehow always there!” She gestured at the blank tv screen and came face to face with her disheveled reflection staring back from the black screen. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday, I tried-“

“It’s okay, birthdays happen every year. You’ll be there for the next one.” She gave Natasha a warm smile, and for the first time in weeks, Natasha felt her lips curl up slightly too. “I’m going to order takeout, and then you and I are going to watch a Bond film, no protesting. Give her time.” Maria spotted the phone on the table in front of her. “I’m also confiscating this or you’ll drive yourself insane.”

Natasha was too tired to protest, so she nodded blindly and let Maria drag her around. She didn’t admit it, but letting her mind drift away from Y/n for an evening was refreshing. Maybe she could do this. If she tried hard enough, life could be good again. She could work through it, toughen it out like she used to do.

After all, this was her trying…

But the same couldn’t be said for Natasha a week later. She’d woken up late and anxious, after a nightmare involving Y/n had shaken her to the core. She waited out the day with sweating palms but as the clock struck seven she couldn’t wait any longer. The weather was horrendous and heavy raindrops ricocheted off her windscreen as she drove to the grocery store, her eyes hazy in the streetlights.

Grabbing the first bouquet of flowers she saw, Natasha walked down the alcohol aisle to get to the checkout. But her eyes fell on a familiar bottle of brown liquid and she froze, almost dropping the flowers onto the floor.

The first bottle of whisky you’d ever bought her as a gift, the same one that was on the tv stand, now stared back at her on the shelf, the reduced sticker glaring bright. Without a second thought, Natasha grabbed it off the shelf and scanned it at the self service, her chest heaving as she fumbled with coins to pay.

The rain hadn’t eased up and her thin hoodie did nothing to stop the water from soaking into her skin. Her purchases lay abandoned on the passenger seat, the place you normally sat, as she weaved through the streets towards your brother’s house. She knew the way for emergencies and a single thanksgiving dinner.

But she didn’t get out of the car straight away, like she’d envisioned. The engine cut off and she sat in the dark vehicle, eyes trained on the front door like she willed you to come out and greet her. All the courage had suddenly fled from her body and she felt like curling up on herself like a scared child.

With a grunt, she grabbed the flowers, leaving the bottle discarded on the seat, and crunched across the stone driveway to the front porch, knuckles confidently knocking on the damp wooden door. Faint rustling could be heard and Natasha thought as though her heart would fall out of her chest and drop onto the ‘Welcome’ mat like a cat’s peace offering of a mangled bird.

The door opened. Natasha’s legs almost gave way when she finally saw your face, paler and a little thinner than it was before. She watched you take her appearance in, the soaked bouquet of flowers slightly crushed from their journey. Her mouth opened and closed, no words offering themselves up for her to use.

“I, um-“

“What are you doing here, Natasha?” You asked, voice cold. She wasn’t used to you talking like this to her, even if that’s how the last month of your relationship had been. She remembered the happier times and clung on to them for dear life.

“I just…” she trailed off, feeling so ridiculously hopeless. Maybe she didn’t quite know what to say, now that she was actually here. “I miss you- us. Look, I just wanted you to know that I’m trying, I really am, and I can do better. I want to make it up to you, please Y/n.” She held out the bouquet, feeling more like a teenage boy getting rejected by his crush.

Y/n’s conflict was so evident in her eyes, but she could feel her brother’s presence only meters away and she knew what he’d say if he invited Natasha inside.

It was too soon, and as much as she wanted nothing more than to run into her redhead’s arms, the smash of a plate still echoed in her mind and she couldn’t go through that again. Not yet anyway…

“I can’t, Nat, I’m sorry. I know you’re trying, I am too, but I can’t do this again.” Natasha’s eyes threatened to fill up with tears as she gulped. “Not yet. I’ll call you when I’m ready and we can talk. I’m really sorry.”

You didn’t mean it, but you had to shut the door before she saw your tears fall. It barely fell into the lock before you sank to the ground, shoulder against the door as tears streamed down your face. Seeing her face hit you harder than ever before and you wanted to run into her arms, feel her and smell her around you as you promised everything was going to be alright.

But it wasn’t.

And as Natasha trudged back to her car and leaned against the locked door and the rain beat down on her fragile body, she let out the most heart wrenching sob. The flowers dropped onto the soaking asphalt as she pulled her arms tightly around her body, trying to mirror the comfort that your hugs used to provide. She didn’t even care that she’d probably get sick from the rain, nothing mattered anymore.

Nothing mattered but you, and your name fell from her lips as she cried, tears mixing with the raindrops. She didn’t know you were crying out for her in Bucky’s arms only meters away, wanting another chance.

You wanted to try again, all for her.

#natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romonova #marvel fic #angst #wlw #breakup #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x female reader #scarlett johansson #maria hill #bucky barnes

[tomssexdoll]

Could you please do tomorrow headcannons like the ones you’ve done for bill recently. 🙏🙏🙏. Love your writing btw- also if you make it can you tag me..

yesss ofc love and ty for the support <3

Relationship headcannons Tom

NSFW MENTIONED!!!!!!!!

2008

You guys first started dating

Brags about you to anyone who will listen

Once you got to know him you realized how much of a softie he really is

He was very confident at first

Spoils you

Quickies behind stage at tours

You love playing with his dreads

Tugging on his braids during sex

2009

Suprised you with the braids

you love them ofc

Loves going on walks with you

Very affectionate

Super protective

Gets jealous easily

Slightly possessive

Hates when you wear skimpy clothing out

Always accompanies you at parties

Will hurt any guy if he has to

Gets you flowers a lot

2010

Takes you on the humanoid tour

Shouts you out in the crowd and brings you up to the stage

Stares at you while he's playing and flirts with you too

Quickie backstage ofc

Loves seeing you in his shirts when you go to sleep

Always gives you his jackets, hoodies, shirts

SUPER flirty

Teases you in public

Leaves hickeys everywhere for everyone to see

Smacks your ass playfully in public

2011

Cuddles are the best

Loves to go to the club with you

Still very protective

Jealousy issues calming down a little

Shows you off in interviews

Talks about you non stop in podcasts

Brings you to practice

Very loving and caring

Will drop everything just to make sure you're ok

Super close, very healthy relationship

2012-2014

Proposes to you finally

The proposal is beautiful, he takes you out to a fancy dinner and he gets the best spot and proposes to you under the stars

Showers you with gifts all the time

Gets you lunch when you're working hard

Loves to give you massages when you're stressed

Learnt how to cook for you

Talking about wanting a family

Cuddes and movies every second night

Partying like there's no tomorrow

Falling pregnant in late 2014 so the baby came after the wedding

2015

The wedding finally happens

The ceremony is beautiful

He smiles like an idiot when he sees you walking down the aisle, crying softly

Does the garter wedding tradition but tries to take your panties off instead

Dances with you sweetly at first

When you get drunk he grinds on you, dancing so sexually

He smashes his lips into yours when the priest declares you husband and wife

also picks you up and spins you around when after the kiss

Can't stop talking about how sexy you were at the wedding

Makes a wedding night sex tape with you LOL

Buying a house together

Baby finally arrives

2016-2019

A lot of renovating

More talks about having a big family

Tom upgrades the nursery

Best father EVER

Spoils you and the kids

Forces Bill to babysit for a couple nights so you guys can spend time together

Sex is amazing and always has been

Still very protective of you and especially your daughter

Fall pregnant again

2020

Find out you're having twins

tom jumps with joy after he finds out

Tells Bill and they are super happy

Tom buys you fresh flowers every week

When he takes the dogs for walks he'll always pick flowers for you

Loves taking your daughter to the park with you even though you're super pregant

Loves you unconditionally

Takes care of you so much during pregnancy and birth

Holds your hand at the hosptal

Sobs and holds the twins in his arms

Loves you for you

Reminds you everyday how beautiful and precious you are

Spoils the kids with junk food when you aren't there

2021-2024

Thinking of another kid

Very happy relationship and super close

Sex is amazing ofc

Buying you flowers every week ofc

Partying here and there

Loves home dates and spending time with you

Some nights he'll fall asleep on your chest

You love playing with his long hair and beard

Beard tickles you when he kisses you

He's careful not to give you carpet burn when eating you out

Loves washing your hair and making you feel relaxed

Runs baths for you to relax after a hard day

He helps with the cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc.

Best present giver

Super affectionate

tags: @effy-2000 @itsmealaiah @tomscumdump @20doozers @charliesgoodboy @tomkaulitzloverr @tomscumdoll @syylss @ge-billsgf @ballhair @miyukafujii

#tom kaulitz #tokiohotel #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x y/n #i love tommy #i love tom #tom kaulitz tokio hotel #tom kaulitz smut #tomkaulitzheadcannons #tom kaulitz fluff #fluff #sweet fluff #headcannons #ilovetomkaulitzmybfomg

[reikamasama]

𝙰 𝚂𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝙾𝚏 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚖 ? II

Pairing ; Hazbin Hotel X G/N Teen!Reader

Warnings ; implications of Abuse/Manipulation

Word count ; 5.9K

Summary ; You and Rosie are on an outing together, purchasing clothing and eat a meal together! Little did you know you were about to start a new chapter in your life.

⁀➷Prologue, ꕥ chapter I, ꕥ Chapter II

The grass excels a beautiful green color as it gently flows with the breeze, allowing it to pass through with multiple leaves and petals that have fallen from the mixed trees. The different trees sway softly as they sunbathe underneath the tropical sun. There’s a soft smell of grass and flowers that beams through the air. 

The park is as empty as ever— not a sound can be heard. The flower gardens are overgrown and the benches are on their last leg, as vines have taken over the majority of them, painting them in the colors of nature; with the orange slowly but surely fading away. 

Your eyes stare at the photo of Minori, Yuki, Rinku and you.. standing in this park on its dock with big smiles on your faces. You look so happy.. 

They look so happy.. you were at peace when you were with them.

You can still remember the scent from the picture, even if your only looking at it. You smile sadly at your phone, you miss them, you really do but your mother has restricted you from seeing them under the exam-season. Yes, you may have not obeyed that rule as you’ve been meeting them in secret, but it still pained you that you weren’t allowed to be with them. 

According to your mother they were ‘bad influences’, due to them not being ‘study motivated’. 

You have tried explaining to her that you did help them by tutoring them, she got very angry — or maybe annoyed was the right word? Either way she told you that it would stunt your own development if you needed to assist others all of the time instead of focusing on my own studies. Her claims were ludicrous, but she is your mother after all, and they.. do know best. 

Your eyes scan the photo, it looks so cheerful, you were all doing silly little poses while smiling. The matching flowers you all decided to wear in your hair blends very well with the cherry blossom leaves falling in the background of the photo. The screen light is the only thing you can focus on right now, as the ends of your bittersweet smile can only grow. 

That day was one of the best days in your life. You were able to clear your head, be away from your studies and you were able to be with your friends. It was an actual dream come true and you wanna go back to that moment.. maybe if you just space out you can relive that moment..

“[Name] what are you looking at, dear?”

Her smile is sweet, offering you your false sense of security like she always does. Or maybe it is real..? 

You snap out of your day dreaming state, her voice fills the empty air as she speaks your name. Your vision blurs and you blink helping you regain your vision whilst putting your phone down — looking around. 

You are standing in a darkened room, it’s filled with quiet whispers as they look at the different exhibits. Wait.. weren’t you just at home? When did you go to the art exhibit. You can’t seem to remember anything as your eyes fixate of your mother remembering her question.

“Ah, i was just looking at the time”

You pause before you continue,

“I know you allowed me to have a study free day so i could join you at this art exhibit, and i am thankful that you wish for me to broaden my creative mind! So i was only checking the time making sure we didn’t have to go home anytime soon!”

Lies, lies and more lies drip through your teeth, it’s like your whole life is built up on lies. Lies to please her, lies to please your mother. You feel your own body enter a dull state, slowly draining all your emotions like a puppet on a string, your eyes feel more dull, you can barely remember if you have blinked at all.. you force a smile as your eye twitches, luckily your mother didn’t notice.

“I’m glad you are enjoying your time here, honey! How about we take a look at that painting over there?” 

She asks you; looking at you expectantly awaiting a response.

“Yes mother, let’s! It looks quite lovely from over here.”

Her face turned into a pleased expression clasping her hands together as she begins to make her way towards the painting. You follow — having your hands intertwined as they sit in front of you. You keep a steady pace as you follow her, hearing a tap with every step you take. You swiftly make your way to a small crowd of people admiring the displayed painting.

You squish yourself into the crowd surrounding the painting. It reeked of perfume, it made your nose scrunch up as you felt the different fragrances collide creating that horrid stench. You look to your right — eyeing your mother before you follow her gaze letting yours land on the painting. It is a very strange piece.? It has a few lines and circles drawn on it. It barely had any variation with shapes or colors, it was a simple painting only using different shades of greens and blues. How do people enjoy this so called ‘art’? It feels empty, there’s no thought or emotion put into that thing.. there’s no message the art is trying to forward, there’s no eye catching features, it’s a whole lot of nothing. At least from what you can tell. 

You grow restless.. the painting goes from boring to ugly, you don’t want to see it anymore, no. You want to leave.. standing in the crowd makes you feel nervous, it feels as if a pair of eyes are always on you, the feeling haunts you and sends a shiver down your spine. Despite this spacious room and the fact it’s not filled to the brim with people you still fear that you are being watched, making you feel a need to make no mistake. Make no mistake. You can’t make a mistake. Ever. Never ever. Why is the room so wide.. why is it so dark, why is it so cold..? 

You exhale quietly and you swore you were able to see a little cloud form in front of your face due to the chilly air. A voice snaps you out of your strange day dreaming state once again. 

“Dear this piece has such value doesn’t it?”

God, you really gotta stop doing this. Your neck snaps towards your mother’s direction, a forced smile stays plastered on your face. 

“Yes of course, i liked its creative aspects quite a lot.”

Lies, come on just speak the truth!

“Are you ready to move onto the next piece?”

Yes, you don’t want to be here: you wish for her to let you go home.

“Yes mother!”

You escape the rich scent making your way out of the crowd. 

Clack. That sound echoed though the venue as the picture perfect mother and child makes their way to another painting, this one only had a few people admiring it and you mentally relaxed ever so slightly — knowing it won’t have that rich people scent all over the place. Your mother and you finally reach the painting, your eyes land on the colorful canvas and it reminds you of something. 

The painting resembles a beautiful flower that’s placed inside of a vase, that is on a cozy wooden table. The flower in itself struck you with such a spesific feeling, like something you’ve seen before. It has such gradient colors and this is something that pulls you in. You could tell that the artist has put their heart and soul into this and there is definitely some kind of message that you might not be able to decipher — but you knew that this painting was something special.. Wait a minute.. 

It’s as if a puzzle has been solved inside of your brain, a certain piece of said puzzle that has been misplaced finally finds its place. This flower is recognizable due to it being the same flower you and your friends were wearing in the picture! You feel a strange wave of happiness sending throughout your body, you feel like you’re back in control it’s you now, it’s really you. Like the strings have been lifted but you lifted them on your own.

“Oh my god, [Name]? I never knew you were into art, what are you doing here!”

Arms wrap around your shoulders as you hear a chuckle, they spin you around only to lock you in a hug. Your eyes lay upon the figure who’s hugging you, it was the one and only Yuki. She normally isn’t this affectionate, but it’s probably due to the fact you haven’t been able to meet her a lot recently. 

“Oh, dear is this a friend of yours?”

You freeze in Yuki’s grip feeling her arms gently let go of you, freeing you from her warm embrace. You don’t want her to meet her, what if she.. disapproved.?

“Yes mother, this is Yuki!”

You pause before you stand in the middle of the two your eyes mostly staying on your mothers. 

Her snake eyes — eye Yuki up and down with a judgmental look before her face softens up and she smiles calmly.

“Hello there Yuki, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

⋇⊶⊰  n o  ⊱⊷⋇

Your body leans against the oddly comfortable mattress in your newfound room. You had been in Rosie’s care for a few weeks now and you have grown quite fond of her. Rosie has always been such a darling to you, prioritizing your needs over her own. She has helped guide you throughout hell and there’s quite a lot you had to learn. 

You made sure to jot down the most important parts in a notebook, just in case. Your fingers trace alongside the surface of the notebook, it had a black cover with a rose on it. Allowing your thumb to fall on the cover of the notebook, opening it. 

The first page has the headline ‘Important’ on it. The handwriting was a very readable one, something your mother had taught you from an early age

“Having a presentable writing style will make you stand out above the rest and bring you more job opportunities”

Gosh, you really need to stop thinking about her, she isn’t here anymore. She isn’t here. Is she? You are your own dependent person now, heck Rosie is more of a mother than she ever will be. Your strings have been cut and you are no longer her puppet. 

You’re grateful for having Rosie take care of you, really. But the freedom hell was able to provide you was an overwhelming sensation to say the least. 

Before you fell down to hell your mother controlled your whole life, from your clothes to the actions you made, it was all things she controlled on your never ending stage. 

It was like you were acting in a one man show — creating the most pleasing stage performance to the person you were supposed to love and trust the most.

You were tired, really really tired and you had never taken a notice to this until you got an actual good nights rest your first few days here with Rosie. You were forced to be in bed rest by Rosie, and she was not taking no for an answer.  She has brought you meals, decorative items for your room and went to you just to chat about her emporium and other gossip. You listened to her rants, her voice had such emotion, emotion your mother never was able to give you. Rosie and you also had had conversations about the pain in your throat, she made sure to bring you all sorts of foods and drinks trying to help you get better, and within these few weeks it was like you were building up a kind of ‘talk tolerance’. You were now able to hold multiple conversations before your throat gives you the sensation of that sharp pain you felt once you first meet Rosie.

Speaking of Rosie, she wished for you to join her for an outing today. 

You weren’t quite sure what the outing was for but you knew she was going to bring you outside of cannibal town, that in itself is a rare occasion. You swing yourself off of the bed letting your feet land on the floor with a quiet ‘thud’. You stand up and stretch, raising your arms towards the ceiling as you let out a yawn, stretching your sore muscles. You let out a satisfied exhale as you walking over to your drawer hearing a creek sound coming from the creaky wooden floors with each step you take. 

You slip on some clothing that Rosie has been lending you over these past weeks, they might have been a tad big on you, you didn’t mind though. You took a glance at yourself in the mirror, admiring your demon features before you fix your hair making you look presentable. You slip on some shoes before you reach out for the golden knob on the vintage themed door. 

Your eyes look back to glance on the room once last time before you leave, making sure to hadn’t forgotten anything, not that you had much to leave anyway..

Once you confirm that there’s nothing you’re leaving behind you twist the doorknob and exit the room. 

You make your way though the darkened hallway, it’s only light being provided by a little lamp at the end of the hallway. Your fingers trace along the cold wall as you walk to the end of the hallway. You really liked the vintage theme to the whole town, it’s just like the history books you used to read and it makes you feel welcome, you used to have a modern home back on earth so this was a nice change of pace. Your feet clack whilst making contact with the wooden flooring, your footsteps are the only thing that can be heard down the echoey hallway, you steadily reach the wooden stairs. Your hand reaches to hold the un-even railing of the staircase as you begin walking down it, carefully letting your hand slide down the railing to make sure you don’t get any splinters. You stumble when you’re at the bottom step and clumsily make an entrance to the emporium. 

You quickly straighten your backs and brush of imaginary dust off of your clothing, wishing to the seven rings of hell Rosie did not see your little mishap. Your eyes scan the area landing on Rosie standing behind the emporiums counter, you feel warm upon seeing her little smile as she counts money, it seems that her shop has been doing very well today! You feel a smile grow on your face as your legs gravitate towards the counter, step after step you slowly get closer to Rosie with your quiet footsteps tapping on the stone like floor. Rosie seemingly was stuck in her own world as you reached the counter and stood behind it, not sure if she was able to sense your presence. You were about to clear your throat to catch her attention but her voice interrupted your actions;

“Ah, [Name] you have finally arrived, you know keeping a lady waiting is very rude now— oh I’m just kidding no need to break a sweat over this dear!” 

She chuckles at her own ranting before she places the money back in the register, her fingers fiddles with a stubborn lock and you decide it’s a good time to ask her what you are even going to do.

“So, Rosie. You have never taken the time to explain what exactly this outing is for?”

You say this wearing a normal expression, but your voice gives you away as it sounds more confused if anything. 

Rosie lights up ever so slightly at the mention of the outing as she clasps her hands together,

“Well my dear [Name], we both know that you have been borrowing a lot my stuff since you have arrived here,”

She pauses wich leaves room for you to input an apology.

“Yes about that I’m sorry Rosie—“

“No no! I do not mind at all, after all if i didn’t wish for you to borrow my things i wouldn’t have permitted you to use them.”

You knew arguing with Rosie about this wouldn’t lead anywhere, she was a stubborn lady who stood her ground, you respected that and honestly kind of envied it. It’s something you were never able to do, stand up to yourself. 

Rosie places a hand on her hip as she continues with a soft look on her face.

“Well the reason for this outing today is that we are going to purchase you new clothing! I believe you would like to wear other clothing than what you are borrowing from me at the moment, hm?”

You have never really thought of it before, you were used to your mother purchasing all of your clothes so getting to borrow some from Rosie was nothing too different. Rosie’s clothing may have been a bit too oversized on you but it was nothing that hindered you, from work or anything of the sorts but you have been a bit interested in the world of clothing, maybe this is a way you’ll be able to express yourself! Maybe a new start? You like the sound of that, the sound of you becoming your own person.

“While i don’t mind wearing this, they are quite comfy after all! It would be nice with something that’s a little more.. me.?”

The end of the sentence trails off feeling like you’re having a hard time choosing the right wording. 

She chuckles and lets one of her hands fall onto your shoulder, patting it before making her way to the front of the counter. Your hands fold as you let them rest in front of you.

“Shall we?”

Rosie says, offering you a toothy smile as you nod. The two of you make your way to exit the emporium.

⋇⊶⊰  s t u c k   ⊱⊷⋇

The sound of you and Rosie’s footsteps straddling along the sidewalk can barley be heard as demons outside of cannibal town seem to be more indecent, loud fights and conversations followed along with blasting TV’s follow trough out the streets of the pride ring. Your eyes dart around the overwhelming streets. You feel rather tense, staying on guard with each step you take. With every passing second your muscles become more sore as you feel uncomfortable. 

You never knew what to expect from hell.. but this was exactly like Rosie explained it — if not even worse.. 

You feel a slender hand find its way on the small of your back as it makes you stop in your tracks and urge you in a direction to a certain store. Your head swiftly turn only to see Rosie standing there with her normal grinning self looking down at you giving you a reassuring smile. Your head turns to the direction she is urging you in. It was a tailor store, and it was also the only eye catching store on the street as it was the only store that hadn’t been completely torn.. You hesitate before reaching your hand out to the handle. your fingers slowly grip around the oddly long handle.. huh its strangely cold for something that’s in hell. You inhale deeply trying to shake off the odd feeling you’ve got brewing inside of you.

The inside of the shop has a very cozy feeling, it has very fitting colors that reminds you of the Victorian era. There’s very over-the-top fancy decors on both furniture and clothing with golden accents. Your eyes dart around the store landing on different mannequins dressed in all sorts of clothing, from frilly to pointy, casual to formal — there’s a bit of everything in here. 

“Oh this shop has always had such a nice feeling to it, maybe i should ask them to be a part of cannibal town! Haha”

Rosie laughs at her little comment before her eyes dart to you,

“So dear, what do you think? Where would you like to start?”

Her question makes you stop in your tracks, she’s right, where should you start? You could start with shirts? Maybe pants? Maybe accessories — ugh.. this is gonna be harder than you expected.. you consider your options

“How about we take a stroll around the shop? And see if i find something eye catching along the way?” 

She agrees with you as she follows you around the store.

You have a hard time at first, it was difficult learning how to figure out your likes and dislikes. You feel different pieces have different textures and colors, you now have an understanding for your mother who took a long time in stores like these — it was a struggle picking out outfits that would look nice together. 

It takes you a second but you start warming up a little after Rosie points out a few articles of clothing here and there and not long after, you’ve managed to fill a bag of clothes. You feel proud of yourself, it’s your beginning to the new you. The clothing you’ve picked out is very different from what your mom used to choose for you. You were always told as a kid that you were dressing in such an ‘adult’ like-way, little did they know it was cause you never were allowed to choose clothing of your own. 

You take a quick look through the bag feeling that you’ve picked out enough clothing to fill out your wardrobe. Rosie was hesitating — feeling that you could pick out even more but she decided to sneak in a few more pieces just to help you out a little.

When you told Rosie you felt finished with your shopping the two of you went to the fitting rooms. 

You feel the soft fabric of the curtain against your fingers as you open it with a bit of force. Rosie hands you the bag she’s been carrying all of this time and you let out a quick ‘thank you’ before closing the velvet curtain allowing you to change. 

There’s multiple mirrors in the dressing room and it feels so strange being able to see yourself from different angles all at once. You gently place the bag on the floor with a little ‘plop’ before you bend down picking up different pairs of shirts and trousers gently placing them on the little black wooden stool inside of the dressing room. You undress yourself, starting with your shirt, then the rest. You get kind of distracted being able to see yourself in the mirror in such a state, yes you’ve seen your full demon form before but it still strikes you as odd no matter how many times you see yourself. Your hands hover over the shirts before you find one that sticks out amongst the rest as you pick it up. You raise your arms sliding your hands and head trough the holes of the shirts, and as its on you adjust the shirt smoothing out any wrinkles you can find. You smile to yourself, the shirt has a very soft color and it has a few frills adding some volume to it. Now all you needed were a pair of trousers, you find a pair that you see fit with the shirt and slide them on, you can feel the soft texture of the trousers and it is very comfortable. 

You admire the outfit you’ve put on in the mirror, it really suits you and you feel it brings out a whole new side from you. Huh i guess, ‘clothes makes the sinner’ really is true! 

“I’m done!”

You say in a louder tone, a tone audible enough for Rosie to hear but not close to make anybody else believe you’re an obnoxiously loud asshole. 

Your voice tells Rosie that you’re done and her face turns to the silky curtains you’re hiding behind, looking expectantly at it. Your hands grab onto the velvet curtains struggling once again to slide the curtain open, but as it slides open you take a step out of the dressing room, resting your hands clasped together in front of you like you usually do. You were expecting a reaction from Rosie but you were certainly never expecting her to start clapping to the outfit you’ve put together. 

“My, this is definitely better than i expected! It fits you so well, dear!” 

She coos followed along by a chuckle;

“Go on now, don’t just stand there! Give me a little spin!”

You do just that, lifting the weight off of your feet as you give Rosie a gentle spin showing her your whole outfit. 

She keeps on complimenting you and your outfit making you feel embarrassed as your cheeks grow warm. 

“Aha.. thank you Rosie, I’m glad you like it.”

Your words were short but your voice sounded sincere, you are not used to all this attention she’s giving you.. but you have got to admit that it feels nice. 

“Here dear, try this hat on I’m sure it will add  to your look quite a lot!~”

She gives you a playful wink, followed by her hands reaching out for your head, gently placing the hat on you. Your head turns to look into one of the mirrors in the dressing room. You felt a bubbly feeling inside of your chest, you just felt so happy.. you looked so pretty — and it’s all thanks to Rosie letting you be, well you! You smile feeling a little tear build up, but you softly rub your eye and turn back to Rosie with a smile, an authentic smile. 

“Thank you Rosie!”

You chuckle along side with her as she pats you on the back;

“Of course dear, you look lovely!”

Her hands move from your back to your shoulders before she urges you into the changing room once again, she lets go of your shoulders once you’re in the room and grabs onto the curtain.

“Try on those other outfits now! We don’t got all day i still have a few things planned for us!”

You felt very confident after the interaction. Rosie has been nothing but supportive and that doesn’t change as you try on the different outfits. She praises them one by one and it was strange.. you don’t remember placing some articles of clothing in the bag? Oh well, it worked out in any case so that’s fine. When you were done with the little ‘shopping spree’ you felt famished and Rosie suggested that the two of you headed to a restaurant that she had been eyeing for a while, you trusted in her style and the two of you made the way to a restaurants. It was a very classy restaurant and multiple sinners where there, sinners with more money and have a higher status in hell. You may not really be important to hell but you are in important company. You believe you recognize multiple of the sinners there. At one of the tables you believe that Carmilla sits there along side with her daughters, on another table across the restaurant your able to see the Vees— their loud and obnoxious well at least Vox and Valentino is Velvette couldn’t care less it seemed. A sinner came up to you and Rosie bringing the two of you to a table that’s placed far away from Carmilla and the Vees. 

The table presented in front of you seems to be in a more secluded area as multiple tables were empty. You thanked Lucifer for being in a less crowded space. You feel your tense shoulders soften up and only then you realized how truly tense you have been this whole outing. You exhale quietly before pulling out the chair that’s presented before you, it is a very.. normal chair, nothing special like you thought this place would be since Rosie seems to prefer class. You sit down onto the not-so-soft chair. 

“You seem to have finally relaxed dearie, did you not enjoy your free shopping spree?”

She says that with a smug expression on her face as she sits down and crosses her leg over the other.

You feel a bit panicked — swiftly trying to explain yourself,

“No that’s not it at all Rosie! I appreciate your help! Hell is just — hell you know..!”

You chuckle quietly at your own pun as Rosie chuckles alongside you.

“Well i certainly can’t blame you for that, in any case dear welcome to one of my favorite restaurants in hell! Now i do prefer.. meatier meats, i assumed you were not into trying that yet, am i right?”

You nod not really saying anything, and after a second or so a waiter comes up to the table in a strangely good timing. You look at the waiter and they look tired, like they hate their job — you expect to hear a tired annoyed voice as they speak;

“What would you like Miss Rosie and..?”

“Mx. [Name] is fine!”

Their voice was strangely happy as they handed out the menu’s,

“So, what would the two of you like? Or shall i circle back later to take your order?”

You pick up the menu to scroll trough it quickly, there was a lot of options with really fancy names that honestly were hard to read.. but you did regonize some of the desserts.. ‘cheesecake’ ‘Velvette cake’ ‘cupcake’ ‘angel food cake’ hmm.. there is a lot of cake in here— wait! Angel food cake? Sign me up! You softly place down the menu noticing how both Rosie and the waiter was starring at you rather intensely and it made you feel nervous, so you stutter as you speak;

“I..l have the angel food.. cake.” You pause;

“Please.” 

Rosie smiles and looks to the waiter, 

“well you heard the little darling, one angel food cake, and double it!”

The waiter scribbles in their little notebook with their tired face looking more lively now.

“And what would you like to drink”

You felt the day has been kind of tiering, so a simple water couldn’t do you any harm.

“Just some water..”

The waiter nods and glances at Rosie whom just nods quietly telling the waiter she was going to order the same as you. The waiter quickly scribbles on the notebook before taking their leave the two of you to chit-chat. 

Your eyes wander around the restaurant not specifically looking at anything in particular. Time feels — awfully slow for some reason, tick, tock ,tick ,tock.. the clock clouds your brain. 

Its ticking reminds you of the late study sessions, the smell of your room. The god awful smell of cleaning products.

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

The day of you dying came back to you. The moments pretending to spare your mother only to murder her in cold blood. You remember her face, it was an expression you had never seen from her before - but you knew it all to well. 

It was an expression you had worn multiple times before, she had made you feel so small.. so little, she got what she deserved .. right? Right. Im sure you’re just being dramatic, she never did you any good! She only feed you, bought you clothes, gave you a roof over your head she even made you meals…. all you had to do was study… no, no that’s not true stop!

“[Name] dear, you’re spacing out again, what are you doing in that little brain of yours hm?”

Your eyes flutter in confusion, your nose has now been filled with the scent of angel food cake, your pupils darted to the plate of dessert in front of you, it looked just like it did back on earth. Your eyes darted to look at Rosie’s and her expression is difficult to read, that’s Strange your normally swell at reading emotions.

“Sorry,”

Your voice sounded quiet and you raised it to a normal speaking volume;

“What were you saying Rosie?”

The lady chuckled at you before lifting a little fork in her hand taking a bit of the angel foodcake before placing it in her mouth, quickly swallowing it as she answers your question.

“Well pay attention now, for what I’m about to say is important.”

You nod at her statement letting your eyes remain on the gray ladies pupils as you pick up the silverware in your hand, the fork is small and you slice off a bit from your dessert parting your lips as you try the delectable dessert. The flavor beams through your mouth, it’s a bit too sweet for your taste but it makes you happy. You happily listen to Rosie as you chew on the little treat.

“It has been a lovely time to have you around the emporium, and you have brought me a good business I’ll tell ya that! But i believe it’s time..”

She pauses — you presume it’s for dramatic effect as you keep eating pieces of the angel food cake.

“..for you to go to the hazbin hotel.”

You choke on your dessert a little, your hand reaches out for the water as you quickly pour the liquid down your throat, to wash the stuck piece away. What did she just say. The hazbin hotel? The one she has spoken about before? Redemption? you? — hah no way! 

You have stopped eating now and the little fork you used to hold in your hand has now fallen onto the plate, you don’t react through. Your expression is so confused, scared, surprised a whole package deal.

“Now dear, calm down you’ll be allowed to visit me anytime! I just believe you shouldn’t be stuck in hell for eternity, sure! You fucked up.. yeah you may be flawed, but i can tell that you’re a good kid, [Name]. 

“Even if i don’t believe in redemption, go prove me wrong with that strong will of yours!”

..does she actually mean that, does she believe you can be redeemed? You killed someone, but she still believes in you.. you take a deep breath — inhale, exhale.

“Are you.. are you sure.. i mean I’m not doubting you I’m just— what if they won’t accept me there..?”

Your voice struggles with the sentence you’re not sure what to say.. it all just feels like a big decision to make on a whim. Your hands fiddle with anything they can get their hands on and Rosie smiles sadly at you whilst your eyes dart down to look at your hands.

“I’m sure you will dear, and if anything and i mean anything bothers you, the emporium will always be open.”

Her words were calm, comforting even — but now her words weight on you. You want to do your best for Rosie.. but can you?

..

..

..

..

..

—

Of course you can.

Your [Name] after all. 

⋇⊶⊰  y o u ?  ⊱⊷⋇

You wave a nervous hand to Rosie before you turn a 180, allowing you to get a good view at the hotel. It is huge but has a very.. strange appearance, also it’s located on the side of the town isolated from everything else— that’s one of the weirdest things ever! You can feel your heart raising as you being walking up to the hotel, one step after another. 

When you are stood at the door you take some deep breaths, come on! You have got this [Name]! You hesitantly reach your hand out to the handle before gently opening the door.

⋇⊶⊰ E N D  ⊱⊷⋇

Sheesh, this was a long one! The author apologizes for the delay on the chapter and would like to say that he will publish chapters around every 2 weeks! He tries his best and nitpicks a lot on his story wich can delay the writing! He would also like me to inform that there’s now a tag list, so if you are interested please go ahead and tell us in the comments!

That’s all I’ve got to say for now, so i hope everyone enjoyed this story-telling session and i hope to see everyone back for more next time! Bye-bye now!

(Thanks everyone for the support on the recent 2 parts of this series, it makes me so happy to see people enjoy reading it and the reblogs has brought big smiles to my face! Thank you everybody sm<3)

~ Tags for reach ~

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin #x nb reader #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin x reader #x nb Reader #alastor x reader #husker x reader #angeldust x reader #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #vaggie #niffty