#who am i kidding i put more thought into my tags on here than i do work

[1427]

something to prove

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Every time your mom goes down to the city with Merle she lets Daryl stay behind and watch TV. The night your boyfriend breaks up with you, you decide you have something to prove. 

Warnings: Very vaguely implied drug use, age-gap (reader is 20, Daryl is mid30’s), smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation (both m & f), idk there’s something else that happens but idk how to tag it (premature ejaculation???), preTWD!Daryl.

Word Count: 3k

A/n: this is a two part story, possibly three? This started out as a step-dad!daryl idea but I reworked it because not everyone’s as big of a pervert as I am. If anyone wants step-dad imagines (au or otherwise for Daryl, or Negan) lmk. 🥵😈

17+ mdni

\\part 2\\

masterlist

“Who are you?” You ask, to the man standing in your house. Well, your moms house, certainly wasn’t his house. He looked like one of your moms friends from the bar. 

“Shit, who are you?” He looks at you, more confused than you are. Scared almost. 

“Mona’s kid?” You explain, who else would you be? 

“Oh, shit. Didn’t know Mona had a kid. She just left you here?” You look at him like he’s still a stranger standing in your living room. 

“I’m 20.” You watch as he sighs a little in relief. 

“Right…. I’m Daryl. Uh. Her and my brother took a ride down to the city. Didn’t wanna go, she said I could hang here.” 

“Of course she did,” you say to yourself with a sigh. 

Daryl watches you as you run to the kitchen and grab a snack and run back toward the stairs, “Well. I’ll be in my room.” 

“Wait! Uh.. where’s the remote?” 

You sigh, with a smile this time, and step backward down the first step. You walk past him and dig your hand into the recliner that’s facing directly in front of the TV, pulling the remote from its hiding spot. As you walk back toward the stairs you put it to his stomach, and he takes it with both hands. “Thanks” you hear him say, and then you’re gone. Running up the stairs to lock yourself in your room. 

✨🚬

Daryl and Merle came over a lot after that. You didn’t see too much of them, when you’re mom had company you knew it was best to stay locked in your room. Not like you’d want to be around her company anyway. 

Daryl seemed different than Merle. Everytime you did venture out of your room for a snack, or to leave the house to go see your boyfriend, and you had to interact with things outside of your room, Daryl never spoke. Honestly, it seemed to you like he didn’t even want to be there. 

And every time your mom and Merle go down to the city, Daryl stays back and watches TV and smokes cigarettes in the living room. Never does anything else. 

You start developing a crush. And you know it’s insane because he’s so much older than you, but you can’t help it. You never thought you’d see someone older like that, but to be fair he didn’t look it. He definitely wasn’t as old as your mom. Probably mid 30’s? Probably. You couldn’t ask. And there was something about him. Brooding, quiet, but… safe. He never bothered you, never looked at you too long like most of your moms friends did. He seemed.. sweet. 

You start praying they’ll come over, and then you pray that your mom and Merle will leave. Sometimes they’re only gone for half an hour, sometimes they’re gone all night. No matter how long they’re gone, though, you always go down and see Daryl. 

You never really talk to him more than a few passing words, even when it becomes a more common occurrence. 

Obviously you try to look as good as you can when you do go down there to walk in front of him. You stand awkwardly by the kitchen island, pretending to watch tv, trying to say something. Usually you can’t come up with anything. 

You find yourself wearing more and more revealing clothing, trying to get him to look, but you never catch him looking. And, honestly? It frustrates you to no end. 

Why won’t he look? 

It’s starting to make you a little crazy, multiple times you’d had to stop yourself from coming down in just a towel.

And then your boyfriend breaks up with you. Probably better off, but the night that it happens you lose it. You’re not heartbroken necessarily, but you are pissed. And you feel like you have something to prove. And all of it bubbles up into something you normally would never see yourself doing. 

You come downstairs this time in only an oversized teeshirt. No underwear. Its dark, all the lights off, it is 2am, but for some reason you weren’t expecting it. It should make what you have planned even easier. Less awkward. 

Instead of going to the kitchen you walk right up to Daryl and put your hand out for the remote. “I wanna watch TV.” 

He looks up at you. Finally. And he hands you the remote. “Alrigh’.” 

You change the channel to something else, doesn’t matter what as long as it’s not what he was watching. You settle on an old movie, looked just boring enough. You lay down on your stomach in front of where Daryl sat in the armchair, your teeshirt riding just barely up your ass, just enough for Daryl to be distracted by it. To notice it. To ask himself if you weren’t wearing any underwear. 

You hear him take a deep breath from behind you and it makes you smile. Finally. 

And you stay like that for a while, absentmindedly looking at the TV, not really watching it. Daryl’s watching you through half lidded eyes. Before you’d come downstairs Daryl was a good five minutes from falling asleep in that arm-chair. But now? His heart hammering in his chest, he has to control his breathing in the quiet living room, to not tip you off that you were affecting him so much. He wasn’t sure what you were doing, or if you were even doing it on purpose. But you’re 20, right? Surely… he figures you have to know. 

But if you know what you’re doing, than you’re expecting some kind of reaction, and Daryl… can’t. He can’t move. He can hardly think straight. Looking at your bare legs, the little peak of your ass just barely revealing itself from under the fabric. And then you shift your hips and the tee-shirt falls away even more. 

It takes everything in him to keep his breathing steady. 

“Are you looking?” Your voice cuts through the silent room, making no attempt to turn back and look at him. 

“No.” Daryl says, quickly. His brain scrambling over the new information that you definitely, absolutely, undeniably knew what you were doing. 

You smile to yourself, the choked sound of his voice told you everything you needed to know. You can practically feel the heat in his cheeks. The tightness in his chest.  

You never thought you’d be as into it as you were getting. Him seeing you like this was burning up your core. Slowly at first and then seemingly all at once. You put your head to the floor in a small moment of defeat over your own body, feeling yourself start to drip down your leg. You wonder if he can see it too. If the light of the TV is reflecting off the little strings of your arousal, coating the inside of your thighs, starting to drip down onto the carpet. A small groan escapes your lips as you raise your hips up off the carpet, keeping your shoulders and the rest of your body down to the ground. 

You want to show him what he’s doing to you. You want him to see the mess he’d made. So there you are, your ass now completely in the air, only a few feet from where he’s sitting behind you, “Are you looking now?” 

This time Daryl doesn’t respond. Because he can’t. His fingers are whiteknuckled on the arm-rests. And he was losing the ability to control his breathing. He was losing control of the ability to even think about breathing. To think at all. 

You don’t mind that he didn’t answer, you knew. His ragged breathing spurred you further. You reach down underneath your body, through your legs, and try to spread yourself open for him with two delicate fingers. Your middle finger slipping through your folds, too slick to hold up to friction. Your hand wipes some of it down your thigh, so you can continue what you’re trying to do. 

And you can hear his breath hitch in his throat, making a smile bloom on your face. A sick, cocky smile. 

You spread yourself for him, before taking two fingers to your clit and drawing small circles around it. You hiss, your hips spasming at the too sensitive feeling of pressure directly on your nerve bundle, but you keep going. 

Plunging two fingers deep inside of you, selfishly. This one wasn’t for Daryl, although he liked it. You needed the delicious feeling of something inside of you. Your fingers hook in you, desperately curling over and over again as you mercilessly assault your own g-spot. 

The noises coming out of you could send Daryl into a coma. Not just the half-coherent babbles and deep definitely-came-from-your-chest groans. No, the sound of your slick hand squelching against your cunt so perfectly. 

You go back and forth like this, between your clit and your walls, until you feel your orgasm start to bubble over. The dull throb of ecstasy climbing into every limb. You almost forget Daryl’s watching as you put your fingers back inside you, three this time, and ride your own hand until your body is shaking, expletives falling out of your mouth before you can catch them. 

You lay there, on the floor in a heap, teaching yourself to breathe again. Until you glance back at Daryl. With one hand covering his mouth his expression is unreadable, but his other hand gripping the arm rest tells you everything. And the hard cock pressing up against the zipper of his pants tells even more. 

You’re almost embarrassed, but not quite. Standing up from the spot you’d laid down to ‘watch TV’ you silently walk over to him and wipe your hand off on his shirt. Pressing your fingers hard against his chest through the fabric, eliciting a barely audible moan from him.

He watches you walk away, listening as your bare feet pad up the steps and into your room. It takes him all of three seconds to free his cock from his jeans. Pumping himself furiously, unceremoniously, with his face buried in the spot of his shirt where you’d wiped your juices on him. 

The smell of you, the taste of you, so fresh and right there. He laps at the spot until it’s soaked with his saliva. He comes in a strangled mess, trying to be quiet, hot white ropes painting his jeans. 

After it’s over he curses himself. He leaves before Merle and your mom get back, to go home and change. Wondering to himself what the hell just happened. 

✨🚬

For a week you avoid him. He and Merle come over twice, but you stay in your room the whole time. A little too embarrassed to face him so soon after what you’d done. You didn’t regret it, or feel bad, but your normal personality had returned. With nothing more to prove to yourself, or your stupid ex boyfriend. Not bold enough to masturbate in front of older men. Apparently not even bold enough to show your face in front of him. 

You wake up one night in a sweat, having another dream about Daryl. In this one he’d had you bent over the kitchen table. Fuck it’s hot in here, you go to open the window but what you really need is water. 

You start to make your way downstairs, only to see Daryl. In the faint glow of the television, eyes wide as he meets yours. “Oh. Hi.” You manage to say, awkwardly standing on the last step before nodding at his lack of response, looking down trying to hide your blush.

 You walk to the kitchen silently, getting some water for yourself. Feeling unbelievably uncomfortable, you wanted to be clever. To be coy and cute and everything you were the other night, but the whole thing is making you so nervous you can’t think straight. You just want to get back upstairs before you say something stupid. Before you embarrass yourself by not being that person. 

You down a cup of water quickly and toss it into the sink before heading back for your room. 

You’re passing in front of the TV when Daryl asks you, “Do you want the remote?” 

One simple question, your head spins. You knew what he meant. What he was really saying. ‘Do it again’. 

You look over at him, remote on his knee, and you nod. Walking over to him, you pick up the remote from where it sat, but you let your fingers graze all the way up his leg, over the tight bulge in his pants. “Christ.” He says, through gritted teeth. 

You smile, that same cocky smile, and take your position down on the ground in front of him. You take your time, at first you really are watching TV. Letting Daryl ache for it. Letting him question if you understood what he’d meant. 

He’d been wondering when he was going to see you next, if you’d do it again. If you’d do more. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was definitely the hottest thing a girl had ever done for him. Not like he had all that much experience with women, but he had some. None of it quite like that. Nothing that was so burned into his memory that if he closed his eyes he could still taste you. Still hear those explicit noises coming off your body. 

He needed more. He needed to watch you again. 

He waits, with baited breath, for you to touch yourself. It feels like it’s taking forever. There’s something about you just down there in front of him, though. It feels like he’s almost able to get off on just that. 

Eventually you spread your legs a little bit at a time. Raising your hips again, you play with yourself in front of him like you did before, taking more time. Teasing him. 

You slide the top half of your body, flush with the ground, over to the side a little so you can look back at him. Fuck. He’s just staring. Mouth open, eyes half closed, fingers holding a cigarette that he occasionally drags. Just watching. Never taking his eyes off of you. Occasionally he looks back up to your face, all contorted in pleasure, but for the most part he can’t take his eyes off of what your fingers are doing. The light shimmering over every wet part of you. 

You sit up for just a second to bring the teeshirt off your body and throwing it to the side. Resuming your position, now completely naked. Vulnerable. You look at him with another smile, his expression is pained. 

Daryl’s trying so hard to keep himself in control. To not touch himself until you’re out of the room, that would be too much, right? He’s convinced himself that there’s no way he can pull his cock out in front of you. He’s so much older, even if you’re 20. Even if you’re in front of him, doing this. Pretty, delicate, messy pussy spread out for him. Begging for him. He can’t. He’s got to control himself. Plus, it’s too embarrassing. You’re so confident and languid with your movements, he’s sure if you saw him like the strangled mess he was the other night that you’d run out of the room immediatly. 

He’s wrong, but it doesn’t matter to you. Of course you want him, and of course you’d let him slither right in behind you and claim any hole he wanted. You would love to see him lose control and touch himself, even if it was something you’d never seen a man do before. Of course you would. But the feeling of his eyes burned into you is so exquisite on its own. 

Daryl’s losing his fucking mind, though. You’re doing it all different than last time. Slower, hotter. Grabbing at your tits with your other hand. Fuck. His head is dizzy, he feels like he’s going to pass the fuck out. And then you start riding your hand again. But not like last time, last time your fingers were hooked into you so tight that Daryl silently begged for you to just fuck yoursef with your fingers instead. He wanted to watch your lips spread out and over them. Wanted to watch you fill and empty your cunt with your two fingers over and over, and now that’s exactly what you’re doing. 

Daryl’s chewing on his thumb, anything to keep his hands away from himself. Every time you pump your fingers inside he feels his hardened length spasm. So tight into his pants, the friction actually starts to feel good. 

You add another finger, and then another. It’s too much for Daryl, who was again silently begging you to do that too. To stretch that little pussy even more for him. Before he can even comprehend what’s happening, his vision goes white. Daryl’s cock spasms violently, cum coating the inside of his pants. His thumb is bleeding from where he’d bit down on it, and he’s never been more fucking embarrassed in his life. Never been more surprised, confused, turned on. 

He watches as you ride out your high, following with your own earth shattering orgasm only a few moments later. He looks down to you to see if you had any idea of what had happened, but you don’t. 

You have no idea he just came in his pants without even touching himself. Just from watching you. 

pt 2

a/n : thanks to @norman-fucking-reedus for helping me with some ideassss for this 💕🤘🏻

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader

[everparanoid]

Wholesome Delinquent Behaviour┃Wriothesley

pairing: f!reader x wriothesley

genre: fluff , smut, light Angst

rating: 18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

tags: consent is hot, it's all good till the backstory, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Reader is Not Traveler, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Squirting, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, biting kink, inappropriate use of cuffs, spoilers for wriothesley story quest, No use of y/n, Past Murder, Minor Original Character(s), Facials, PWP, Blowjobs, handjobs, everything between reader and wriothesley is consensual

wordcount: 9.5K

synopsis: The first time you met Wriothesley was completely by accident. Not that you remembered it too well; if you did, he wouldn’t confirm it without putting you through a gruelling test. No, the first time you remembered meeting Wriothesley was much later.

You are a prisoner at Meropide who meets and falls in love with Wriothesley over the years of knowing him, and he falls harder.

Originally posted: 30.10.23 on AO3

a/n: I am now reposting my AO3 stuff onto tumblr. If you know me....no, you don't. ;) Also check out my AO3 for more wriothesley fics.

Song Inspiration: ''Safeword'' by TV Girl.

I don't own any of the artwork used.

If everything could come to a stop, just for something she says,

The first time you met Wriothesley was completely by accident. Not that you remembered it too well, and if you did, he wouldn’t confirm it without putting you through a gruelling test. No, the first time you remembered meeting Wriothesley was much later.

You wiped away the sweat coating your brow with the back of your dirtied hand, heaving a deep sigh. The production zone, despite being at the bottom of the ocean, was like what you imagined the hot springs of Inazuma to feel like. You wanted to go there one day—to Inazuma. Although the borders were closed to the outside, the stories you heard of the beautiful Sakura blossoms filled you with the determination to get there. One day, you would. You were sure of it. If you didn’t get struck down by their archon first.

“Inmate, stop slacking! Unless you don’t want to eat tonight,” the guard manning the floor yelled at you.

You rolled your eyes and continued hammering at the heated chunks of metal. Your arms were weak, and your palms were sweaty. It was times like this when you wished you had a cryo vision. You wished for many things. You wished you hadn’t been caught. You wished Fontaine were a better place. You wished that Monsieur Neuvillette felt even an ounce of sympathy for your case, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the court of Fontaine was as ‘fair’ as they came. The sky had down poured the night you were sent to Meropide. It was the worst Fontaine had seen in four hundred years. You hadn’t seen the sky properly since you probably never would. People rotted down here. So, all you could rely on was the glistening memory of bitter water, and your dreams.

It was better, you decided, to be punished here than in Sumeru, Inazuma, or even Monstadt. You’d been to Liyue once, but you weren’t there long enough to have a clear judgement of whether their form of justice would be any better. Then again you had been arrested before you got out of Liyue and they handed you straight back to Fontaine to be judged by your home region’s laws.

“Inmate!” The guard yelled snapping you from your thoughts. “You’re wanted at the administration area.”

You dropped your hammer, relieved for the break, and shoved past the guard on your way to the lift.

I thought the whole point was you were living on the edge,

“It’s your lucky day, kid,” another guard said as you meandered leisurely toward them.

This guard you liked.

Meropide inductions didn’t happen often. Most of the time the convict was thrown into their dorm and made to figure it out themselves. In the instances of special cases, you were brought out like a friendly face before the storm. You had no clue why it was you they chose, but you always got paid handsomely in credit coupons, so the particulars didn’t matter to you. You had long since abandoned the idea of fairness down here where the sun doesn’t shine.

“What have we got this time?” you asked cracking your knuckles.

“A kid, your age.”

You paused. It wasn’t often you met people around your age down here. Everyone was either one foot in the grave or an adult.

What could this kid have done to end up down here with the downs and outs? You looked out the large glass window, it stared out into the deep blue Fontainian waters. The sea was dark, so you guessed it must be night. Time was more of an idea, a concept if you will, down in the depths. So, you enjoyed rare moments like these to re-calibrate yourself. It was a shame. You had hoped to at least feel the sun’s rays through the water’s refraction, but it was like you said beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The lift lowered down behind you, and you turned to greet this so-called new inmate. You were greeted by a tall scrawny boy, probably not even a year older than yourself with dull icy eyes and jet-black hair. He was drenched in that same bitter water.

You put on your brightest smile and offered your hand.

“Welcome to hell,” you said.

Not your best work but it caused a small snicker from the boy, and your favourite guard who stayed close by. Strange. They never stayed around. Were they that concerned about your ability to induct a fellow teenage delinquent?

Wriothesley paused. When he was given his verdict by the Monsieur Neuvillette he didn’t expect such a warm welcome. Well, warm as far as being greeted at its entrance.

He didn’t take your hand, instead opting to stare at you with those haunted eyes. You were disheveled at beast and downright filthy at worst. Nothing to sing or dance about. Nothing to fall head over heels in love with either, but you didn’t care. Who wanted to find happiness in misery anyway?

“Hell?” Wriothesley echoed. His voice was steady and stern like he was aged beyond his years; by the lack of life in his eyes, he probably was. “Is it that bad down here?”

You shrugged one shoulder.

“Depends,” you said.

“On what?” he asked, calculating. You could feel his brain working from where you stood. 

Fascinating.

“Depends on how stupid you are,” you looked him up and down, chewing the inside of your cheek absentmindedly. Then, as if a rocket had been shot up your butt, you spun on your heels and gestured for him to follow with a lazy flick of your wrist.

He did so, catching up to you easily with his long legs and just as long stride.

“I didn’t catch your name,” you said as the lift doors closed behind you taking you down to the actual entrance of Meropide not the fancy entrance for visitors too afraid to see the truth. Fontaine was a giant opera, and you lot in Meropide were the hidden stage crew, slaving behind the scenes after losing your spot in the limelight.

“You didn’t ask,” he responded flatly from beside you.

“Clearly that was the hint for you to tell me.”

“It’s Wriothesley,” he said.

It didn’t sound like it was his actual name. Hell, it didn’t sound like a name at all, but who were you to judge? Meropide was a place to start a new; to redeem yourself from your sins, and nearly burn to death in the production zones breaking your back for an administrator who was a tyrant. What was a kid reclaiming their identity going to do to you?

“Nice to meet you, Ricecake.”

“Ricecake?”

“Hey, you give me a name I can’t pronounce you live with the consequences, Ricecake.”

The doors opened and the lift groaned as steam poured out of its pipes and vents. Some unfortunate soul was going to have to clean those later, and you prayed it wasn’t going to be you. You had a burn on the inside of your arm from the last time you cleaned those steaming pipes, it was a jagged ugly thing to look at, so you kept it hidden. Out of sight out of mind, right?

The receptionist sat behind the desk looking as melancholy as everyone else in this place. Wriothesley was going to fit in just fine, you thought, as you remembered that same almost dead look in his eyes.

“You coming?” you asked the boy who stood gawking at you from the lift. “It won’t take you back up you know. I mean you can try. It’s your sentence you’re lengthening.”

“You don’t recognise me?”

“No?” you said. “Should I?”

You tried to recall when you would have seen him before but only drew blanks. You’d seen so many of the same faces and watched so many of them die that telling anyone apart was a pipe dream for you. However, for some reason, you knew that Wriothesley would stick in your head. Not just because the name was so peculiar but because something about him intrigued you. He didn’t seem upset down here yet. No, he looked curious. Curiosity was dangerous. Curiosity got the smartest people in here killed or beaten half to death. No, Wriothesley stuck in your head because he reminded you of hope.

So, when those sounds start to drift down the hall, and stat to freak out the neighbours,

“No coupons, no meal,” the chef said, his voice booming through the place. You wondered over questioning who would be stupid enough to get into conflict with the head chef. He was a burly man, tall with a glassy eye and a wooden spatula the size of a person. The rumour was that he had been a Fatui skirmisher in the overworld. The truth was he was like every other soul in here, beaten and trapped. Upon seeing the familiar woolfy black hair, spiked in random places you inserted yourself into the conversation.

“Sorry about that boss. He’s new,” you said to the chef.

He waved his beefy, greasy hand at you to leave.

“Don’t let your friend come back unless he has coupons. This isn’t charity,” he said with a thick Snezhnayan accent.

“Gotcha,” you said and gave the chef a salute. Hooking your arm under Wriothesleys, you pulled him out of the cue. He nearly tripped over his foot. You dragged him to a secluded table a little away from everyone else, where your singular special box of bread and curry waited for you.

You let him go.

You pointed to the wall where it read, ‘If a man will not work, he shall not eat.’

“Sit,” you commanded pointing to the chair opposite yours.

Wriothesley stared at you like you had grown four heads.

“I have no food,” he said.

“I can see that,” you responded, opening your box and letting the steam waft out. Both of your stomachs groaned at the same time. It had been a while since you had had decent food from the chef, it would be even longer till you had another one; credit coupons weren’t easy to come by and they were better spent on other things like making sure you didn’t get smothered in your sleep.

“How much did that cost?”

“More than you’ll make in your first year,” you said breaking up the bread in your hands.

He gulped dryly.

“How do you know that?”

“You’re a fresher. You’re basically free labour until you have some experience behind you, and some meat on your bones. You’ll be lucky if they pay you a tenth of what you should be getting in your first year. Unless you can fight.”

You let your words settle in the silence between you.

“What did you do?” you ask.

“What?”

“Your crime? What did you do? The guards treat you like a danger to humanity,” you said glancing at the guard who watched you both intently. You could understand them glaring at you but why him?

Wriothesley shifted in his seat, straightening up as if preparing for something.

“I killed my parents,” he said.

He didn’t say anything more than that, he didn’t need to.

You blinked.

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

You let it sink in for a minute and then nodded.

“I will not be offended if you run, after all this is the entire truth,” he said bluntly. His stomach growled again, and he clutched it willing it to silence itself.

“We’re all crooks and criminals down here,” you said. “But that doesn’t mean we are all bad.”

He lifted an eyebrow at you. You supposed it was because he was expecting you to run. Which meant he obviously didn’t know you. 

“What if I am just a bad guy?”

You shrugged. It was not like you were the dog’s bollocks yourself.

“I have a good enough instinct to know that you aren’t, Ricecake,” you said and pushed your now broken-up bread and curry meal toward him. You were going to regret it. You hadn’t eaten a full-fledged meal in three months, but still, you gave it anyway. “Eat.”

You would have wanted someone to do the same for you when you got here. Friends weren’t made under the sea. His eyes widened and his pale face brightened for the first time since you had met him.

“This is yours,” he said, sounding flabbergasted.

“Now it’s yours,” you said. “Eat up and get some rest. You need to be strong if you want to survive around here.”

You noticed something in his eyes then, a spark. It was dull but it flickered. Your stomach flipped again.

You took a sip of your water before pushing it over to him. He was going to need it more than you.

“Thank you,” he said.

You shook your head.

“There is no need for thanks between us. See it as me looking out for a fellow delinquent.”

“Delinquent?” he said taking his first bite of the bread drowned in curry sauce and rolling his eyes in bliss at the flavours. He began to hoover up the box like it was running away from him.

You remembered when you were like that with every small crumb of bread you got when you first got here. Your stomach flipped. What kind of hell had Wriothesley come from?

“Slow down buddy meals like this don’t come around every day,” you said. “Take it slow, no one can kick you out of here to work anyway. Seems they’re too afraid of us.”

He did as you said. Licking off his fingers, he looked around the floor at the glaring stationed guards and occasional inmates. He faced you his eyes glimmered with light like a shooting golden star flying across an icy sky.

“So, how do I get them to trust me?” he said leaning in.

 You leaned back in your seat, your arms crossed and a smile on your face. You were sure now, that feeling in your stomach was hope.

remember that it's good, clean fun,

“Happy Birthday!” you grinned, setting down a box you had smuggled up from the cafeteria into his room. He raised a brow up at you. It was the 23rd of November, the day he’d decided was his birthday; the same day he was sentenced to Meropide.

“Ah, thank you,” he said politely. His stomach growled at the delicious aroma coming off the box revealing, despite his calm thanks, his eager anticipation for your yearly gift.

Guilt riddled him, as he dropped the gauntlet he had been upgrading, next to the cashflow machine he had found and tinkered back to use. He had wanted to pay you back. Every year, on the day he arrived you came with a box and another ten pieces of meshing gear for his tinkering, and as much as he secretly loved it, he felt like he wasn’t doing enough to pay you back.

It had been six years and yet he hadn’t gotten you a single thing he considered worth the amount of your kindness. Aside from a necklace with a piece of meshing gear that he had forged into a Cerberus insignia. You wore it everywhere. You wore it then, the rustic insignia rested on your chest. He had already put aside the pieces for a matching bracelet, a little trinket from him to you. A subtle hint to show that you were his, even if he hadn’t said it yet.

He unravelled the box and two tea bags fell out of the wrapping.

You picked them up and shook them before him.

“Tea for the occasion,” you said.

He smiled and closed his eyes.

“I fear, you know me too well.”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know your favourite colour,” you said, brewing the tea in the teapot he kept on the wonky table.

“I don’t have one.”

Meaning he couldn’t choose one without them all tying to you. Maybe it was the colour of your hair, or eyes, or even the colour of your lips, he’d stare at those often. Too often lately. He was staring now. He looked away.

“Well, I guess I do know everything about you,” you chirped.

He thanked you as you handed him a cup of tea with two sugars just as he liked it. You knew these things. It wasn’t like you had spoken about them.  No, you had been around him so much in the last few years that these things came naturally to you. It was like breathing. You sat beside him on the ground. Your tea warmed your hands.

“What else does the birthday boy want on his birthday?”

He fought back the blush though he was sure the colour still painted his skin.

“Nothing.”

“Come on! There has got to be something?”

Wriothesley shook his head and opened the box.

“Okay then if you insist. Share this box with me?”

“But it’s yours.”

“And I want to share it with you. Are you really going to deny me on my birthday? Remember, you are the one who asked what I want.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Fine.”

He broke up the bread inside one of the compartments in the box, the same way he'd watched you do it countless times. You reached in and dipped a large unbroken piece of bread into the soup before bringing it up to his lips. He stared at your hand.

“Open up. Come on, birthday boy, if we are sharing then you’ve got to have the first bite,” you said.

When it became apparent that you weren’t going to give up any time soon, he opened his mouth enough for you to slip the bread between his teeth. Both of you without the other's knowledge held your breath when he bit down, and his lips brushed the tips of your fingers.

A shiver ran through your body, one you knew would follow you to bed and into your filthiest dreams.

He pulled back and quickly cleared his throat, as he chewed without tasting.

“It’s delicious,” he said.

“It is,” you choked out, though you hadn’t tried it yet.

He didn’t bother to correct you, too lost trying to calm the riot in his chest. When he felt like he had better control of the battle in his chest he picked up a piece of bread, dipped it into the curry sauce and held it toward you. You blinked.

“You should try some too. You know since we are sharing and all.”

You took a bite from the bread letting the flavours wash over you. They too were lost to the way you noticed his eyes watching your lips enclose around the bread. You nodded and covered your mouth as you chewed.

“It is good,” you agreed, with a mouth full of mush.

He nodded and looked away from you, scooping up another piece of bread and popping it into his mouth. You would have thought he was unaffected until you saw his ears were deep shade of crimson.

Just wholesome delinquent behaviour,

“What’s this about?” You asked as he guided you with his large cold, calloused hands over your eyes. You envied his cryo vision, and his ability to stay cool down in that heat pit. He hid it well, but you knew he had one. You’d seen it one day by accident and not breathed a word about it since. Vision holders were targets down here and the last thing you wanted was to put him in any more danger.

“Patience. Don’t you know all good things come to those who know how to wait,” he said.

 He had dragged you out of the production zone after finishing his work and disappeared off like he usually did only to reappear an hour later with that confident stride he had. You barely ever saw him these days, but when you did it would be like he was still the fresh-faced delinquent but older. You were both older. He guided you into a seat and then removed his hands. You missed the cool touch on your skin. It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the poor lighting.

“What is this?” you asked, staring at the giant box in front of you.

You looked up at Wriothesley. It had been twelve years since he came to the fortress and the once soft baby face was gone, lost to the grit of Meropide. Wriothesley commanded the trust and respect of everyone around him much to the administrator’s dismay. When you were working away in the production zone, to he would be off swaying the inmates and the guards, working his natural charisma on those around him.

“What happened?” You asked reaching up and grazing his split lip with your finger. He caught your wrist and dipped his head out of the way flashing you a half smile. He had grown even taller over the years and now you had to reach up to touch him. He glanced at the ring on your finger, and you snatched your hand away, your face flushed with embarrassment.

“I won some more coupons,” he said.

In reality, he had scrapped up the coupons that he’d hidden away in the case of a rainy day and used them to buy you the meal. A week earlier he had lost all his accumulated credit coupons in a single night to the Fortress’s administrator.

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Is that so?” he sassed. “I suppose I should write a will.”

Your expression darkened.

“Kidding, of course,” he said.

“Of course.”

“I went to Sigewinne,” he assured you. “She said I would be fine as long I rested.”

“Good,” you said.

You turned back to the box.

Metal screeched on the floor as Wriothesley pulled his chair closer directly across from you. The place was unusually empty—only a few guards manned the area, but no other inmates could be spotted on the floor.

“So, what is this?” You could smell the faint fragrance of something familiar. Something you hadn’t smelt in years.

“Open it,” he said and gestured with his chin to the box.

You gave him a cautious look and lifted the lid. Inside sat four rolls of bread and two bowls worth of curry. Your heart fluttered. When you looked up at him, he was already watching you; his icy eyes shining like stars. You didn’t want to think anything of it… to hope. Hope was stolen from you. Hope led to you becoming trapped in a loveless engagement with one of the crooked guards.

“You really did it?” you said and ached a little inside.

This was supposed to be a happy moment but all you wanted to do was weep bitter water.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his toned scarred arms over his chest. He looked so broad and solid; all that boxing had morphed his physique into something godly.  “I told you I would pay you back.”

“That was twelve years ago, and this is more than triple what I gave you.”

“I added the interest,” he said.

“Why now?”

He looked down at your ringed finger again and frowned. His brows drew together in the way they did when he was annoyed or thinking more than he was going to let you in on.

“I’m going to fight the administrator,” he said bluntly.

You paused mid-snap of your bread.

“You’re going to fight the administrator?” you repeated, unsure of whether you heard him correctly. “Your sentence is up. Why would you do that? You’re going to die.”

He shrugged.

“I refuse to watch people suffer under the crooked ruling of a tyrant,” he said and eyed your ring again. Your finger felt like it was on fire; you dipped a bit of bread in the curry and handed it to him. He waved it away.

“Why are you like this?” you said, and dropping the piece of bread into the curry, you watched it drown and disappear into the thick liquid. “Is it not enough that you’ll be free?”

You blinked back tears, your hands clenched on your thighs. You had watched nearly all of his fights and every single time your heart was in your throat. Every time he bled, every time he shook hands with his opponent; every time the ringleader held up his beaten-up arm to declare his victory. You hated it. You hated all of it.

He said your name with a tenderness he reserved only for you. A tenderness you didn’t want to hear. A tenderness you blocked out with everything in your soul.

“Is it so strange that I would want to fight for those whom I promised a better life out of genuine care?”

“Why did you do that?” you yelled, your voice came out harsher than you intended but it was too late to take it back. That was the thing about words, they could never be unspoken. He cleared his throat.

“As I recall, I didn’t come here to live under the thumb of another driver, and I thought you would understand that more than anyone else, but I see now that I was wrong and clearly you have been broken down after all.”

You bit down hard on your lips, and your jaw clenched so tight that you were sure you would crunch a tooth.

“Ric—Wriothesley. That’s not fair,” you whispered.

“Indeed, it’s not but it’s the truth.” He glanced away for a second. “Look, I am in love with you, and I have been for the last twelve years. I can’t simply watch you be with someone you hate just to get a sentence lowered that you still won’t tell me about. I could have helped you. I am helping you. I’m helping everyone,” he pushed his chair back and stood.

“…What?”

“I’m fighting tomorrow. Show up, if you have some time, of course; or don’t, but I’ll be looking out for you. You can find me in my dorm before then.”

You fought back the urge to chase after him, to slap him, to kiss him, to hold his hand, to hold him so tightly and cry the way you haven’t been able to since the day you were convicted. Instead, you didn’t. You sat in silence and ate the bread and curry watching your heart walk away from you.

Oh, remember your safe word,

His dorm room was across from yours. It was sparse like everything else in the underwater fortress. A pillow and scatty blanket lay atop a barely functioning mattress in a corner. Wriothesley sat at the small table barely standing on its uneven legs. A tiny pot brewed a herbal smelling tea, and two teacups sat in front of him.

“You came,” he said barely above a whisper. His confidence was a quiet one.

“You love me.”

“Would you like some tea?” he asked, gesticulating to the second cup in front of the spare chair.

You had been in here countless times; shared many cups of tea with him; helped pierce his ears and manage his wounds; watched him shadowbox the air as you sat crossed-legged on his bed; you had wondered what life would be like if Meropide was a better place; you had wondered if the people you left behind missed you as you laid next to each other on his floor staring at the giant fan on the ceiling. Not that either of you had anyone but each other. Wriothesley had said his siblings were strangers to him, and he was probably a ghost they would never want to see again. An unfortunate reminder of something they’d all rather forget, but he never forgot. He refused to. He lived his truth.

 Every time he told you about his past you worried about how his view would change if you if knew your truth. However, Wriothesley never pressed too hard, never touched buttons he knew you didn’t want to be touched. Instead, he watched and observed, and took in all that you were willing to give him, just to see a glimmer behind the cracks of your mask.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

“Please.” He gestured to the chair. “Sit.” he filled your cup.

You took your seat and shifted around, unable to find comfort despite it being your usual chair. Feelings always made things feel different—uncomfortable. You knew this. Yet you still felt the discomfort, nonetheless.

“How did you know I would come?”

“I didn’t but I hoped and thankfully you didn’t disappoint, but you never do,” he said, filling his cup.

“No need to be modest with me, Wriothesley.”

“I am anything but modest with you,” he said your name softly.

You gulped. Wriothesley wasn’t one to mince his words, though tact was his favourite game.

“You must have heard about it already?” you brought the teacup to your lips taking a sip of the liquid. Credit coupons bought anything in this fortress, even the finest tea. “It’s all people can talk about when it comes to me.”

His expression darkened.

It was only a matter of time.

“You do, and yet you still love me?” you asked.

“I recall someone once telling me that we all are crooks and criminals down here but that didn’t mean we were all bad,” he recounted the words you had said to him when he arrived nearly verbatim. He leaned onto the table, and it shook on its uneven legs from the added weight. “Besides, I like hearing stories from their source.”

“Then ask.”

“What got you incarcerated?”

You took a deep breath. What did you have to lose? He had heard worse rumours.

For some reason, you cared about what he thought of you. You knew that feelings were fickle things, and yet, you cared that he loved you. You loved him too.

“Mariticide,” you said cooly, breaking the ice.

“But you were—“

“A child, I know.”

“I was illegally married off when I was eight years old to a man, twenty years my senior.”

Wriothesley remained neutral, you took it as your sign to keep going.

“He didn’t do anything to me until my twelfth birthday and then it started. At first, it was just touching and then it got worse. He was an influential Fontaine nobleman. One of the maids tried to help me report him but it didn’t work. So, one night when he came to my room, I had hidden a butter knife under my pillow. I castrated him and ran away, fleeing Fontaine. I wandered through Sumeru and then to Monstadt but even the city of freedom couldn’t protect me. So, I kept moving. It was when I was on my way through Liyue that the authorities caught up to me. The maid who had tried to help me was sleeping with the man and hence reported me. The hearing was quick, and I was put away fast. No one wanted to consider the implications of a thirteen-year-old being married to a thirty-three-year-old whom they all dined with. I heard he died a few years ago but my sentence keeps getting extended every time it gets close to the date of my term. I suspect it’s the maid. I was supposed to be here for eight years and well, I am still here. That’s why I must marry that Guard.” You took a long sip from your tea and then placed the cup down. “I’m damaged goods,” you said.

Wriothesley remained silent. He looked to be thinking of something and you had never seen his expression so dark.

“You’re not damaged,” he said, “and he’s lucky he lived after that.”

You smiled. It was a bitter smile; one filled with more exhaustion than remorse.

“Luck favours the rich.”

“If a man will not work, he shall not eat,” Wriothesley said, reciting the famous lines that painted the walls of Meropide.

You raised your teacup at him before taking another sip.

“Jokes aside, thank you for telling me,” he said.

He stood up and you feared he was going to ask you to leave. You wouldn’t be sad, at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself, but the sinking feeling came all the same.

He offered you his hand and you stared at it. Your brows furrowed before you hesitantly took it. He pulled you up to your feet. His cold hand intertwined with yours.

“Can I hug you?” he asked.

He’d never asked this before. Did you look like you needed a hug? Because you wanted one.

“Please,” you choked out.

You would never have described Wriothesley as warm, but when he held you in his arms and you heard his heart racing you couldn’t deny that he was undoubtedly warm. A single tear rolled down your cheek. Then another, and another, and another until you were sobbing into his shabby inmate shirt.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I know.”

You’d been holding onto these feelings for so long. Letting them fester inside you like a sickness. No one had ever stopped to hear your side of the story and you thought you were okay with that. You thought if they stayed away from you then you could pretend to be like every other inmate brought in for stealing a slice of cake meant for Lady Furina. You thought you could hide your truth, but behind every fake smile, you wore it on yourself like a body of armor.

His shirt crumpled in your hands. He swayed from side to side and traced tiny circles on your back with his thumb.

“You did what you had to do. If he was alive, I’d kill him,” he said.

You wiped your eyes and looked up at him. “Please don’t fight tomorrow.”

He brought a hand up to your cheek and brushed away your tears. He decided then that he hated your tears, and he would do anything to see to it that you didn’t feel that way again.

 However, he hated the idea of you living with this pain more. He hated seeing that diamond on the finger where his should be. He hated it even more that you knew that he hated it before he had admitted his feelings for you. If his resolve hadn’t been solidified before now it would be completely. He would free you, and if you decided you wanted to be with him once you sprouted your wings, then he would accept you with open arms. He wouldn’t put you in another cage. He’d hate to see your heart break because to him you were his heart.

Wriothesley’s attention dropped to your lips; they were wet with your tears. He leaned down and brushed his lips to the corner feeling your sadness.

You turned your head at the last moment and captured his lips.

He froze.

You gripped his shirt tighter and reached up on the tips of your toes pressing your mouth further into his; willing him to reciprocate. Your first kiss with Wriothesley tasted like bitter water. It was soft and desperate. It knew what it was without the need for words or discussion.

His chest heaved as he pulled away.

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered.

“I won’t…” 

He wouldn’t—at least not tonight. Although, he didn’t know whether it was day or night outside of Meropide. The underworld was a different world entirely. It never truly slept. It didn’t adhere to the rules of the sun or the moon. It was filled with endless possibilities. Possibilities that could alter both of your existences and if he couldn’t free you above ground, he knew sure as hell would free you below. Although, one night of keeping you safe in his arms couldn’t hurt.

You sat down on his mattress. You looked so much smaller than he remembered, then again it had been twelve years.

He recalled your soot-covered face, and dull eyes when you had greeted him, the day he arrived at Meropide. The day he had begun his new life; his birthday. Although the circumstances weren’t great, he knew from the moment you said, ‘Welcome to hell,’ that he would love you.

He sat beside you.

“Tell me what you want?” he said, earnestly.

You leaned into him.

“I want you to be yours.”

It was true. You wanted him. Engagement be damned. Even if it was just one night, you wanted something for you. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was asking for too much, but you didn’t care. You had spent too long denying yourself the things you want to maintain a peace no one else upheld.

Wriothesley gripped your wrist and groaned what sounded like your name, but you couldn’t be too sure.

“Give me a word,” he said.

“What?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he began.

“I am not fragile.”

Though in front of him, you were.

“I know you are not. Give me a word so I know to stop if it gets too much for you.” He tucked your hair behind your ear and rested his forehead against yours.

“Time,” you breathed.

That’s what you wanted—time. Time to love him, time to live, time to take back all the things you regretted and start again. Time to meet him before you both became who you were.

“Okay,” he said, leaving a kiss behind your ear. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

Only tonight. He reminded himself.

He could promise you that for certain. He couldn’t promise tomorrow, not because he was a pessimist but because he knew tomorrow was never certain. He had you now. He would make sure he had you forever but now would have to be enough. He would make it enough.

“Yours. Completely,” you said.

Another tear rolled down your cheek.

He pulled off his shirt. 

Your mouth merged with his, your tongue slipping into his open mouth tangling, exploring searching. He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes closing despite the desire to see every expression on your face.

You broke the kiss and leaned back pulling off your shirt. His eyes dropped to your breasts.

“Just for me,” he whispered, taking them into his hands and kneading them slowly.

He traced kisses down your neck, wishing to mark you, to lay his claim to you. He wouldn’t however, not yet…not tonight.

You fiddled with the string to his bottoms, untangling it and reaching in to feel his erection. He groaned against your neck unafraid to let you know how good it felt. You grasped his cock. It was thick, thicker than you expected, and so hard.  You needed both hands to grip him properly.

“Take off that fucking ring,” he hissed upon feeling it on his skin. You did, taking off the ring and dropping it with your shirt on the floor. You gripped his cock again, your hands feeling so much lighter without the mental weight of the ring.

“Harder,” he growled as you stroked him.

You tightened your grip watching as the crease between his brows grew. He rolled his hips into your hand.

“Oh, that’s it,” he panted.

You bit your lip and focused on the reddened tip.

Your thumb brushed the crown wiping away the drops of precum. He jolted, his jaw unhinging, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. You froze and released his cock. He opened his eyes, worried, only to see you on your knees between his legs.

He opened his legs wider and slid closer to the edge of the bed. He brushed your hair out of your face and gripped it in his hand as he used the other to keep him up on the bed.

“Go on,” he said. “Show me how much you want me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Gripping, his cock you gave the tip a lick listening to his pleased grunts. Slowly you took him into your mouth, enjoying the sensation of his hand gripping your hair.

“Good girl, taking me so well.”

You were soaked just from listening to his praise. You slipped a hand into your underwear and began rubbing your clit.

His breath quickened, and his mouth felt incredibly dry from his inability to close it. His hips jerked, as you took him deeper. He heard you gag as he felt your throat quiver around his cock. He pulled out, letting you catch your breath before he thrust back into your throat. Your eyes rolled and drove a finger into yourself.

You bobbed your head keeping up with the brutal pace he was setting. You loved hearing his grunts and groans; you loved feeling his cock twitch and his pace stagger as he got closer. Despite how hard it was, you looked up at him. His mouth was agape, his eyes barely open. You released him just when you knew he was going to cum.

Wriothesley opened his eyes to see you waiting, mouth open, your mouth and chin dripping with saliva. You looked glorious.

“You’re stunning,” he breathed and released your hair, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping it until the first spray of cum splattered your lips. “So perfect, with such a pretty mouth.”

You licked your lips and opened your mouth again, leaning closer till the tip rested against your tongue.

Wriothesley felt like he was in a dream or heaven or both.

“Swallow it all,” he panted as he pumped the rest onto your tongue.

You did so, licking your lips and opening your mouth to prove it.

At the sight of your flushed face, your blown lust-filled eyes, and your hand deep in your pants, he found himself hardening again. He had promised tonight, and tonight he was going to have. If he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.

“Get on the bed right now, naked and on your back,” he ordered.

You shimmied off your work pants and your underwear, laying on the bed under his hungry gaze. He stood and stripped the rest of his clothes away before joining you on the bed. It was barely big enough for both of you, but he was going to make it work. He kneeled before your closed legs.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good.”

“Just good?” he teased, a smirk on his lips.

“Mhm just good,” you responded, reciprocating the expression.

“Oh, we’ll have to fix that,” he said, and scooping under your thighs, he opened your legs and pulled you closer to him.

You giggled at the speed at which he had your legs wrapped around his waist and his hard cock pressing against your soaked folds. He caged you between his arms as he rolled his hips slowly.

“I love you,” he said, staring into your eyes.

“I love you too,” you responded.

“I know.”

He kissed you with everything in his soul. At some point, he knew you loved him even if you hadn’t said it till just now. He knew it like how he knew the back of his hand but hearing it made it even better. It made it real.

He rubbed the head of his cock against your soaked hole, pushing in the tip just enough to feel you quiver before pulling out and running it over your pussy again.

“If I fuck you, you’re mine. No one touches what is mine. Do you understand?” He asked

Your heart stuttered.

“I understand.”

“After all, no one will be able to fuck you the way I can. Once I’m inside you unless you tell me otherwise, I’m not stopping until we both see stars,” he said, making sure he looked straight into your eyes as he did.

This wasn’t a game for him, he meant every single word and you knew it.

“Wriothesley, there will never be anyone like you.”

He groaned and slid in. Your back arched at the sheer size of his cock stretching you beyond your limits. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, grabbing onto the sheets for support.

“Breathe, relax,” he whispered. “Hold onto me.”

He continued to slowly push in bringing his knees closer giving him the right angle to get in as deep as possible. He gasped upon seeing himself completely disappear inside you. You tightened your legs around his waist, and dragged him down gripping his back, locking you into a mating press.

He waited till the need for release subsided before he began to move. The shitty bedframe, not built for the purpose it was being used for, squeaked, and hit against the wall. The sound of skin slapping against skin, and stifled cries joined the air disturbing whatever sorry soul had the misfortune of being on the other side of the wall. Neither of you cared at that moment. Within minutes you had already come twice.

Your chest heaved, and Wriothesley cupped them leaving bites all over your breasts, he avoided any place people would be able to see but needed to mark you somewhere. He moved back up to your ear and nibbled on the lobe.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” he said quietly.

You slipped a hand between your rocking bodies and began to rub your clit. Wriothesley leaned back till he was kneeling. Gripping your waist, he continued to fuck you watching with hawk-like focus the way your fingers played with your clit. It was like you were under display, laid out for him to observe and study, and you were.

“So, that’s how you like it?” he said, feeling your walls clench around him for the third time that night.

You whimpered in response, your words had long since failed you. You began to slow as your hand grew tired and your body became closer to a collection of jolting nerves than functioning limbs.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You can give me two more, right?” he said.

You moaned as he replaced your hand continuing to rub your clit just as vigorously as you had started.

“Wriothesley,” you cried,

“Ssh, you’ve got this. Let go. Be a good girl and give me two more,” he urged you on.

You bit your lip and threw your head back letting out another cry which he swallowed eagerly. Your walls clenched again, and your body began to show the signs of a squirt. You sprayed, your legs shaking, your toes curling.

“Shit, you’re incredible. One more,” he captured your lips. “You’ve done so good. Just give me one more, my love,” he said against them.

One more and he would be satisfied. One more and he could guarantee that he would have enough resolve to follow through with his plans. Just one more.

You shivered again and bit down on his bottom lip as your final climax washed over you barely a minute later. He growled at the pain, tugging his lip from your mouth, and kissing you properly.

“Well done,” he said but continued thrusting at the same brutal pace. “I’m nearly there.”

You used what little strength you had to keep him inside. He said your name for what was the thousandth time that night.

“Not tonight,” he panted, smiling against your lips. “Trust me, I want to. I do, but not tonight.”

He pulled out and kissed you softly, stroking himself until his release painted your stomach. He kissed your forehead and rolled off you to not squash you under his weight.

You turned onto your side and cuddled into him. He wrapped his arms around you and entangled your limbs. You faced each other on the damp sheets.

It felt like time stopped. Everything melted away, you didn’t know whether it had been forty or four hours, and you didn’t care. You felt sticky and wet, the only thing cooling you down was the natural coolness of his skin on yours. Sleep drifted over you like a blanket not soon after. You tried to fight it off, wishing to talk to him longer; to try and convince him against fighting the administrator; to find a way with you because as long as you had each other you knew everything would be okay…

“Everything is going to be okay,” he said quietly as if he had read your mind, sending you off to sleep. “It’s all going to be okay.”

When you woke the next morning, well when the sound of the guards woke you from your sex-induced coma, Wriothesley was gone.

Remember your safeword.

You woke to cool scarred arms wrapped securely around your waist. Wriothesley’s head rested on your breasts. Flecks of grey mixed seamlessly into the stream of black hair reminded you that you were no longer in the past. You shifted slightly to free an arm. He grumbled something and nuzzled his head further into your breasts, securing his arms tighter around you as if afraid you were going to disappear. It was a habit he had developed over the years, an incessant need to hold onto you when he slept. You didn’t mind it too much, you liked being cold when you went to bed; it helped you sleep better.

“Wriothesley,” you whispered and ran a hand through his hair. You laid a peck on his forehead, and he stirred.

“Is it morning already?” he grumbled, though his eyes remained closed.

He had been awake for as long as you had been lost in your thoughts, silently listening to the sound of your pounding heart. He couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts ailed you on nights like these.

You admired the thick dark lashes casting shadows over his face.

“No, I just can’t sleep,” you said.

You knew his skin like the back of your hand. The scar under his eye, the scar on his neck that led down to the center of his breastplate and stopped on his sternum. The ones wrapped around his arms, the ones that scattered his waist and stomach, the ones on his thighs; even the small faint one on his calf from when he fell over as a kid. He told you that was when he knew his skin was going to be littered with scars. Wriothesley scarred easily and he scarred badly. However, despite their jagged appearances, none of them were too hideous for you to bear. You didn’t like them, but you loved Wriothesley, and as they were as a part of him as any other part of him, you learnt to love them too. They represented how many battles he had won. They represented every promise kept.

You lifted his head up and kissed the scar on his face, the one right under his eye.

You could feel his hardened cock pressing against your thigh. His pupils were blown when he finally opened his eyes.

He loved you so much it hurt. Yes, physically but also mentally. He loved how you accepted him, he loved how you chose him, and he loved how you chose you too. Most of all he loved how you looked when you teased him, so raw, so ripe, so ready to dismantle you completely.

“Oh, I can think of ways to help with that,” he murmured.

“I don’t know if I have the stamina, your grace,” you teased.

He let out a guttural noise.

He nibbled and sucked on your nipple, messaging your other breast in his cold, rough hands. Your breath staggered as you gave in to his touch. The sound went straight to his cock. He had fucked you into the sheets earlier that night, till you were blubbering and couldn’t remember your own name. Still, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough; he would never get enough of you. Despite your fear that one day he would disappear, he never would. It was Wriothesley who worried that one day you would grow tired of his incessant need to be near you; to have you, to consume you. So, he savoured every squirm, every shiver, every breathy gasp of his name that you would spare him, terrified that they’d be his last.

“Ah, well it’s a good thing that I have enough stamina for the both of us,” he said switching his attention from one boob to the other. The earlier hickeys had already darkened on your skin. “Think you can cum again?”

He would kiss each one later wishing for them to last forever.

“You’re insatiable,” you blushed.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I have my favourite meal right where I want her,” he said and began to trail his tongue down your stomach towards your sensitive clit. He wanted you on his tongue, in his senses… everywhere.

“Do you remember your safeword?” he asked. It was what he always did before you both did anything sexual beyond intimate fondling and brisk kisses.

“Time,” you said.

“Good girl.” He half grinned.

He continued teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue, absorbing every twitch and shake of your body.

“Wriothesley,” you spluttered. “I need you.”

“You’ve got me,” he said.

He slipped his tongue into you, circling, lapping, like a man possessed he devoured you. His nose brushed against your skin. It was knowing his eyes were on you the entire time that made everything feel ten times more stimulating. You let out a quiet gasp and gripped his hair.

“You’re so good for me.” He gave you a broad lick. “So perfect.”

He replaced his tongue with his fingers, curling them inside you and scissoring them open to stretch you out not that you needed much with how well he had fucked you before. Still, it was the thought of giving you pleasure that spurred him on.

“Wriothesley,” you said.

He hummed to show you he was listening, the vibration made you quiver.

“I want your cuffs.”

He paused and pulled away, perking up. He secretly loved it when you surprised him.

“Oh? What for?”

You smiled and gestured for his cuffs. He scrambled off the queen-sized bed and walked butt naked to where he left his cuffs. You admired his ass from the bed. He had a great ass, he knew it too, it was why he wore his jacket around Meropide. His nickname Ricecake had gotten around the Fortress years ago and whilst it was okay when he was a convict, he didn’t need that level of familiarity as the Duke. Besides, you were the only one he wanted observing his ass.

He climbed back onto the bed and handed them to you, the spiked metal looked so good in your hands. His eyes flickered to the rings on your ring finger—his rings. The ones he gave you when he officially proposed.

He never ended up fighting that day due to the administrator’s sudden disappearance.

He recalled how you had run around Meropide searching for him, your hair a mess, the beginnings of one of the love bites he had left dauntingly close to view, poking out of one of his shirts that you had thrown on instead of your own. He recalled how you had slammed open the door to the administrator’s office, breathless, beautiful, with your eyes full of tears to him sitting behind the desk organising the abandoned files. He recalled how he claimed you again there, in that office over and over and over again. The other man’s ring was long gone somewhere down the many drains of Meropide, and your sentence cleared not long after. There were perks to becoming the administrator of the fortress of Meropide. Perks that had the maid of that man who hurt you disappear to a place only known by Celestia, the Archons, Navia, and Wriothesley. Neuvillette knew too but unless there was a trial, he would keep his nose out of it.

You knelt on the bed swinging the cuffs on your fingers.

“Where have you gone?” you cooed bringing him back to reality.

“Mm, nowhere, just admiring the view,” he said coolly.

You shook your head and pushed him to lay back against the pillows.

“You’re working too hard, your grace. I can fix that,” you said and straddled him.

Reaching above him, you cuffed his arms to the bed frame.

He cocked a brow and playfully tugged against the restraints.

“Ah, I hope so,” he said.

You kissed the corner of his mouth, smirking.

His cock twitched at the memory of your first time together.

“Remember the safeword?” you asked.

Seeing you sat on him, your eyes filled with life, he couldn’t care less that you didn’t remember your past before Meropide. He didn’t care that you didn’t recall how he was the boy you gave bread to once when you spotted him wandering away from his home. How you had given him, a complete stranger what looked like your last piece of food because he was sitting alone. He didn’t care if all you remembered was your last two and a half decades together… because you were here now with him. You chose him just as he chose you.

“Time," he responded.

masterlist

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#wriothesley imagines #genshin impact #wriothesley fanfic #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin smut #fluff #smut #angst #light angst #angst with a happy ending

[babybluebex]

bad idea, right? | joseph quinn x fem!reader

summary: yes, i know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect? // aka your ex joseph conveniently texts you to come over just as you're missing him, and who can say no to those eyes? pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader tags: SMUT (minors dni), thigh riding, teasing, confessions of love, bareback (USE A CONDOM IRL PLEASE!!!), no ejaculation (it's ok, you'll see, just read it) author’s note: i am BACK with a new joe fic, i have been thinking about him NONSTOP ever since miss olivia dropped this song, and it's taken me forever to write this but here we are :) enjoy! follow @babybluebex-writes to be notified whenever i post new fics!

This was such a bad idea. No, it wasn’t a bad idea. It was the worst idea, one of the worst things you have maybe ever done. That bar wasn’t set too high, but the point remained. It was stupid and bad, and you just shouldn’t be doing it. And yet, here you are. 

You had been out drinking with your friends, ironically trying to get over Joseph. He was a good man— good enough, at least— and had been a relatively good boyfriend to you, but he was different than everyone else and was itching for more than you were, a family and a life and shit, and you had just wanted to have fun with him, so you had broken it off with him. The breakup had initially happened a few months ago, but your friends had never been able to drag you out of your flat and to a bar until then. There was nothing to mourn, you tried to tell them. We just wanted different things and split amicably, there’s no bad blood there that I need to drink to get over. 

Around 11 o’clock or so, your phone buzzed on the bar top, and you glanced down to see a text from a number that your phone didn’t recognize, but you knew all too well. I’m lonely, it said. Would you like to come over? 

Your friends were absorbed in their conversation, so you put down your vodka soda and typed out a reply. Joe, you know that’s a bad idea. 

I moved. Do you need my new address? 

You sighed. Yeah, I do. 

There was something about Joseph that you couldn’t place, but it made him irresistible. He was magnetic, he was charismatic, he was attractive and funny and kind, he was everything, but he just wasn’t what you wanted or needed for your relationship. He wanted kids; you didn’t. That was it. He was so irresistible, though, that there was no question about the fact that you would wreck your plans to see him. 

“Hey, I gotta go,” you told your friends, and they all booed and awed and asked what was going on. 

“Wait,” one of your friends started. “Are you going to see Joe?”

You scoffed, in a way that you hoped conveyed how crazy you thought that was. “No,” you said. “My social battery just ran out all of the sudden. Long day at work, and I’ve got another long one tomorrow and… You know how it is.” 

“Alright,” your friend said with a pout. “Be safe, alright? Let us know when you get home.” 

You agreed and, with a few hugs and kisses, you went on your way. Joseph had texted you his new address and you plugged it into your Uber app, and, the whole ride there, your leg was jiggling and you were nervous. It was just Joe, it wasn’t like you were going to meet some random guy you met online (although Joe had started out as some random Hinge match). You had dated him for two years, you knew him, so why were you nervous? 

He was grinning at you when you reached his place on the second floor, an easy sort of smile that you remembered loving. “Hi,” he said softly, reaching out for you, and you took his hands, smiling back at him. 

“Hey,” you said. “So, this is your new place, right?”

“Yeah,” Joseph said with a shrug. “It’s not much, but it’s alright.” 

You stepped inside and set down your bag next to the door, along with your jacket and shoes, and you examined the front room. The new flat was definitely smaller than the one you had shared together, the kitchen all smushed up next to the den, with the smallest hallway leading down to the bathroom and bedroom, and you settled on the couch easily. “I like it,” you said, your eyes going to his bookcase next to his television. A biography of Caracalla sat open, and you shook your head. “It’s cute. Very you.” 

“Thank you, love,” Joseph said. He sat down beside you and put his arm along the back of the couch behind you, and you inched a little closer to him. 

“Isn’t it a little… Silly?” you started, and you began to chew on your lip. 

“What is?” Joseph asked. 

“This dumb little dance we have to do,” you said. “Like we both don’t know why I’m here. We have to pretend, like, ‘Oh, I like your apartment’, ‘Oh, how have you been’, y’know?” 

“Well, we don’t have to pretend,” Joseph said. “We can just… Get started.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “But I don’t wanna, like, just come over and fuck and leave.”

“So…” Joseph started. “You want genuine small talk?”

You shrugged. “I guess,” you said. “How have you been?”

“Honestly,” Joseph started. “Pretty bad. I’m so used to coming home and having you here, I find myself so lonely and bored and… I don’t know. It’s been a few months, I thought I’d get over… Whatever this is.”

“That’s alright,” you said. “I’ve been missing you a lot too. I miss our old apartment… The bathtub was so nice and big.” 

“Yeah,” Joseph chuckled. “You remember when we took a bubble bath together and lit candles? That was nice.”

“Yeah,” you agreed wistfully. It went quiet then, both of you trying to avoid the obvious, and you finally sighed. “This is a bad idea, right?” 

“Probably,” Joseph said. You looked over at him to find him already looking at you with those damned chocolate puppy eyes, and you tilted your head a bit, your eyes lingering on his lips. That’s something that you missed about him; he was a damn good kisser. 

“Fuck it, it’s fine,” you said quickly, and you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. His arm around your shoulders dragged you close to him, and he kissed you back, letting his lips mold against yours. You moaned softly, taking in the familiar taste of him, and you shuffled to sit across his lap. His hands went to their usual spots in the back pockets of your jeans, squeezing and kneading your ass as his tongue slipped inside your mouth, and you raked your fingers through his hair. You don’t remember him doing his hair across his forehead like this the last time you saw him, but maybe he did, but it really didn’t matter. He was hot as fuck, and he wanted you. 

“Fuck,” Joseph whispered as he broke the kiss. His focus went to your smooth neck, kissing and lightly sucking and making you moan again, and his hands drifted out of your back pockets and went to the front of your pants, popping the button open with ease. “Pretty girl…” he mumbled, and you giggled as he started to edge your pants down. The angle was awkward, definitely, and you shuffled to stand up and take down your pants. Joseph dipped down on the couch a little to pull off his sweatpants (grey, soft, the kind you once told him make his dick look good), and he discarded them to the side as you straddled one of his big thighs. This was always one of his favorite things, having you ride his thigh, and he looked gleeful when he realized that that’s what you were doing. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, and you smiled, flexing your hips down and starting to drag yourself along his hard thigh. 

“I remember you liked this,” you told him, and Joseph’s throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, letting his head fall back as you started up a rhythm, letting yourself glide along his leg. He mumbled and cursed, his big hands falling to your hips, but he didn’t control you; he was just holding you, feeling you, loving on you. 

“I do,” he mumbled. “God… Yes, sweet girl, just like that.” 

You whimpered as your clit brushed your stretched panties, and Joseph looked up, a sly smile on his lips. You loved when he watched you, and you made sure to move your body smoothly— all the better of a show for him. “Yeah,” he mumbled, biting his plush bottom lip. “That feel good?” 

You hummed out a positive sound, digging your fingernails into his shoulders through his jumper. “God, Joey,” you sighed, and you lilted your head to watch him as his eyelashes fluttered and he sighed with you. "Missed you."

"I missed this too," Joseph said. "Take off your panties, I wanna feel you."

You couldn't help but oblige him, and you lifted yourself from his leg and stripped off your modest underwear (you weren't exactly thinking ahead when you got dressed to go out, and you certainly weren't expecting Joe to text you). The feel of his warm skin on your pussy made your stomach swim with butterflies, and you put your hands on the back of his neck, just at where the curls ended. God, those curls. You pulled him into a kiss and moaned into his mouth, and you tugged on his curls to make him whine.

"Don't tease me, baby," he told you in a low voice, and you smiled and continued on your path, absolutely set on teasing him now. Your hips slowed, and you nestled your mouth right in the crook of his neck, setting soft kisses on his skin. "Oh, fuck, you're an evil woman, did you know that?"

"Yeah, well," you shrugged noncommittally, and Joe grabbed you around your waist and pulled you off of him. Roughly— rougher than usual?— he pushed you down onto the couch, and he settled himself on top of you, his thick thighs caging you in. You watched greedily as he righted himself and stripped off his jumper, exposing the little soft hairs on his chest; now, without the baggy jumper, you could fully see his hardening cock, rising to lay against his tummy.

"Like what you see?" Joe chuckled lightly, and you realized just how hard you had been staring at him.

"How could I not?" you asked. You reached out for his cock, taking his length in your hand, and you stroked him easily, base to tip, squeezing when you got closer to his balls— just the way he liked. He hissed in a sharp breath through his teeth as his eyes grew three times their size, and you smiled.

"Thought you'd've forgotten about that," Joe laughed breathlessly, and he edged back on the couch, aligning his hips with yours. Apparently, it seemed as if speed was the name of the game tonight, and it almost hurt your heart to think that he just wanted to hook up with you. You knew that coming to his place wouldn't end with a reconfession of love and for him begging for you to stay, but it stung to know that he was just trying to get you out as quickly as possible.

"I could never forget," you said, hoping that he could see through your words and see your teary eyes, hear your thick throat, feel your loss. You loved him, and the breakup hurt, but it was better being apart. But was it really?

"I wouldn't want you to," Joe told you, and he pursed his lips for a moment before he spit down onto your pussy. "You think I can ever forget you?"

You lined up the head of his cock with your hole, watching as he throbbed in your hand, and he sank his hips forward. The feel of the stretch had you gasping, and you moaned as he slid inside you, nestling perfectly. "Hey," Joe said firmly, and you looked up from the show to see him earnestly staring down at you, his eyes... Wet? Tearful? "You don't think I could ever forget you, do you?" he asked, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"Not now, Joe," you mumbled.

"Yes, now," Joe insisted.

"You're inside me," you protested, and Joe gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly as he began to fuck you. The pleasure made your breath hitch, and Joe buried his face in your neck, kissing the slender column of your throat.

"We can talk and fuck at the same time," Joe said. "God knows we've done worse and fucked at the same time."

"But talk about this?" you asked. "Joey—"

"I can't sleep without you," he said softly. "Every time I wake up alone, my first thought is that you're using the toilet and that you'll be right back. I can hardly relax without your feet in your side... You really did take up the whole of the bed."

"Joe—" you started again, but he shook his head, his curls thwipping you in the face.

"And I can't eat," he continued. "I miss your cooking, and what's the point of eating anyway if you're not gonna steal bits of it off my plate?"

"Don't say that," you frowned. You were still acutely aware of his cock inside you, ebbing and flowing with the movement of your bodies, but, slowly, you came to realize exactly what this was. Maybe this was a reconfession of love. Maybe he would beg for you to stay. Maybe he was more than lonely tonight, and was just rushing the sex to get to the part where he asked you to come back to him. "That's not... Fair. I'm doing better without you."

"What a lie," Joe chuckled mirthlessly. "You're not wearing your favorite going-out dress, you're not even wearing mascara. You didn't want to leave the house tonight, but you did. Why?"

"My friends dragged me out," you said.

"Exactly," Joe said. "You'd rather stay home and rot in bed, because you're just as miserable without me as I am without you. Admit it, we were so good together, don't you want that again?"

"Joe," you started. "We broke up because you wanted kids, and I didn't. That's not something you can compromise on, that's not a conversation you can table for later. We broke up because we wanted different things, and that's okay."

"But I want you back," Joe said. "I need you back. Please, we can compromise on this. We can... Fuck, I don't know, we can get a cat. Or a puppy, or a lizard, or whatever the fuck it takes for you to come back to me."

Before you could say more, your phone buzzed in your purse on the floor just by your head, and you sighed as you reached for it, any distraction welcome. Your friend was texting you: Make it home ok?

Yeah, you answered quickly. Going to sleep. Talk tomorrow xx.

"Joe," you started. "I... I only see you as a friend now. I don't think I can return to what we had."

"That's the biggest lie you've ever said," Joe told you. "If I was just a friend, would you have come over tonight?"

"Yes!" you said. "Because I'm a good friend! You said you were lonely, and I wanted to come help—"

"Oh, God, there was an undertone, and you know that," Joe cringed. "Don't act like you didn't know exactly what this was."

"Fuck," you mumbled. "Joe, I— Can we wait until we're done fucking?"

Joe sighed and, setting his jaw, angled his hips back and pulled out. He went in search of his clothes quietly, and you did the same, and, as you were zipping up your trousers, you said, "I guess I just don't... Don't see how we can have what we had. Not now, not knowing that we want our futures to be so different."

"We don't have to have what we had," Joe said. "We can have something completely new. We can make something entirely different, entirely our own, whatever we want. Please?"

You looked up from your jeans to see him looking at you. He had shaved his facial hair down to nothing, and you frowned to look at it. "I hate the way you do your hair now," you mumbled. "And I wish you'd grow your mustache back out."

Joe shrugged. "Maybe I will," he said. "If you want me to."

"I do," you said. "And we can get a cat, but you have to do the nasty shit, cleaning up after it and everything. We can... We can get back together, if you... If you promise you'll never leave me again."

Joe stepped towards you and wrapped you in a tight embrace, and he kissed the top of your head. "Never again, love."

#joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn smut #joe quinn x you

[huskersbooze]

Part 3 to Who's In Control?

Better Than This

Alastor x Reader

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3(here!) |

Summary : After the fight and spending time apart, you and Alastor finally come to realise your mutual feelings for one another, but before that, a more important matter needs to be discussed.. will Alastor finally tell the truth?

Warnings : This is where we go off track and not all of this is canon, swearing/cuss words, Angel jokes about sex(?)

Pairings : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here)

Additional Tags : Lore, world building kinda, angst, fluff, Alastor learns to talk about feelings

Ib : Better Than This by Set It Off

Word count : 1.4k

Wide awake on the couch, you stare up at the ceiling of the hotel.

“I’m closing for the night, kid. You gonna be alright?” Husk asks from the bar.

“I’ll manage. Goodnight, Husk.”

“Night, kid.” He heads towards the staircase, but just before leaving for good, he turns to face you one last time. “Take care. And don’t stay up too late.”

“Mhm. You too.”

After a while, it was quiet. Just an empty hotel with the dim hallway lights and nothing else.

You weren’t really sure why you were here. You could’ve gone back to your room after Husk left, or before, for that matter. Maybe your heart just has desires you couldn’t avoid.

“Shit, stop thinking about him! C’mon, brain! Stop it, now.” You aggressively started to blink, trying to find anything else to distract your mind, but everything seemed to be tied to his existence.

There was no denying you missed him.

“What the hell is happening.. I’m supposed to be mad and angry, not missing him..” You sigh.

Poor Alastor, though.. Maybe I should hear him out? No. Fuck, no! He lied to you! No way.

You groan and cover your eyes with the back of your hand. There was this uneasy churn in your stomach.

Am I.. am I in love with Alastor?

-----

“Alastor, you can’t keep this up forever. You need to fix this.” Rosie sighs, walking Alastor back to the Hotel. 

“What use is there, dear, Rosie?” Alastor’s voice is audibly tired-out, though his smile still etched high and proud. “I was so close.”

“You need to tell the poor thing and let her fend for herself.”

“She wouldn’t listen.”

“Alastor, please. This is no longer about your silly little crush.” Rosie stops in her tracks, catching sight of the Hotel a few streets away. “It’s about her soul.”

“Crush?” Alastor asks, oblivious.

“A crush, someone you have feelings for and want to be with.”

“Ridiculous, Rosie. I don’t do.. Feelings.” It pains him to utter such word.

“Whatever ya’ say. Just.. think about what I said, alright?”

Alastor nods, parting ways with Rosie.

Feelings..? Did he have feelings? Feelings for you?

-----

The door creeks, making you turn your head.

Who would be here this late at night? Was it a guest? No, why would a guest come in at 1am?

But then who would it be..?

You got off the couch and eyed the corner which led to the main entrance. A threat, perhaps.

You simply stayed put, saw a glimpse of a shadow, pounced and tackled whatever had made itself welcome in the hotel until the two of you tumbled onto the ground.

Prepared for the worst, you were surprised to hear.. Radio static?

“Alastor..?” You ask.

The Demon looks up at you, his neck wrapped tightly around your hand.

“Oh shit! Sorry, I thought you were an intruder.” You immediately let go and backed up, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Whatever gave you that idea, my dear?” He questions, sitting on the floor opposite of you.

“It's 1am.”

Alastor tilts his head.

“I wouldn't expect you to be out at 1am.”

“You know I don't sleep, dear.” He says, wincing at the fact he's repeated this multiple times in the past.

“Doesn’t mean you’d be out at 1am.” You mutter.

“Valid point.” He says, the tension in the air starting to grow thick.

“So.. uh.” You trail, “Why exactly are you out at 1am, exactly?”

“Ah, just simply visiting Rosie is all.”

“Oh, I see.”

Alastor looks away, his gaze glued to the hotel floors.

“And you, darling?”

“Huh?”

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Oh. I was helping Husk with the bar.” You tell him, which, ultimately, was a lie. Husk was doing all the work while you were drinking away your feelings. But you weren’t about to admit that to Alastor.

“Yes, I see. How nice.”

“Yep.” Damn, this was so awkward.

You got up from the floor, turning your back, “Well, uh.. Goodnight, then.. Alastor.”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

You start hesitantly walking towards the staircase leading to the staff rooms, feeling Alastor watching your back as you left.

“Darling.”

You stop in your tracks. Actually, no, you freeze. Though you made it evident you had no intention in facing him.

“Yes?”

“We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Alastor.”

“You don’t understand, dear. I fear I may regret keeping this from you any sooner in the future.”

“Uh huh..?”

“You’re aware of overlords, I assume?”

“Yes, but what does tha-” Before you could continue, you catch sight of Husk by the top of the stairs.

“Hey, you said you’d sleep, kid-” He tries to joke, but realises you’re not alone. “Oh. Hey, boss.”

“Husker.” He acknowledges. 

“Uh.. am I interruptin’ something?”

“Well, actually-”

“No, of course not.” Alastor cuts you off, passing by and giving you a small pat on the head.

God you missed those.

“We’ll discuss this another time, darling. You need your rest.” Alastor gives the small of your back a little push forward, urging you to go to bed. “I hope to see you tomorrow morning?”

“Y-Yeah.. Sure.” You reply, stepping forward, already missing the contact from Alastor’s hand. “Goodnight.”

“Indeed. Sleep well, my dear.”

You reach the top of the steps and Husk accompanies you back to your room, leaving Alastor still in the lobby by himself.

He returns to his broadcasting studios, a gut feeling in his chest telling him to just be honest with you about the contract. He hums a tune as he returns back.

He’ll fix this. He has to.

-----

“Good morning, Al.” You reached the table where everyone was gathered, and was somewhat pleased to find Alastor already sitting in his normal seat.

“How was sleep, my dear?”

“Good. Did you have your daily dose of venison yet?”

“Not quite. You don’t seem to have your breakfast either.”

“Gotta have my priorities.” You shrug. “Shall we discuss this somewhere else?”

“Let’s.”

You leave alongside Alastor, and the rest of the crew can only stare at each other in shock.

“Did I miss something?” Charlie is first to speak up.

Husk smiles, Sir pentious shrugs, Vaggie asks the same thing.

“Who thinks they’re fuckin’?”

“Angel!”

“Joking, jeez!”

-----

“You wanted to say something?” You take a seat on the floor next to Alastor’s chair.

“By all means, you’re welcome to sit on the chair.”

“I’m good. Your broadcasting panel scares me. You sit.”

“If you insist.” He takes a seat, ruffling your hair. “You’re familiar with overlords, correct?”

“Mhm.”

“Have you ever heard of Azrael?”

“The Legend of the Dark Arts Overlord?”

“Precisely.”

“I’ve heard of it, yes.”

“Well, dear, he’s not a legend. He was the most powerful overlord of us all.”

You weren’t sure what reaction to be giving so you nodded along, waiting for him to continue.

“7 years ago, us overlords were experimenting with power and magic. Azrael formed an experiment, inheriting part of his magic to a human.” He says, meanwhile you still had no idea what this had to do with you.

“This human would be protected, and would only die when Azrael himself gets killed, thus sending the experiment to hell, whether they deserved it or not. 7 years ago, some of us overlords had ‘matters’ to attend to and Azrael had died in the process during the last 2 years.” Alastor proceeds to drop multiple history facts on you at 9 in the morning.

“2 years ago,” He states. “The human was sent to hell with locked up dark magic they weren’t aware of. The overlords are now gambling for this soul as whoever owns the soul owns the power and magic, but on one condition.”

“One condition?”

“Yes, my dear. You see, to own the soul is one thing, but to own the magic.. The soul has to be killed.”

“That’s terrible! And complete bullshit.”

“Exactly, darling. And I own this very soul.” He sighs. “As long as I can own her soul for long enough and find a backdoor, her soul won’t be gambled any longer by the current overlords. But you see, dear, I’m on a time limit here.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Who’s soul is it?” You desperately question, completely forgetting you were supposed to be still mad at Alastor.

Alastor sighs, looking at you with compassionate eyes as a hand comes to cup your cheek.“2 years ago, this soul entered hell. 2 years ago, another soul that entered hell.. was you.”

———/ TBC. /———

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If you want to be on this fics taglist leave a comment! Please specify you want to be tagged or else I won't tag blogs that ask for another part cuz it doesn't seem polite- Thanks in advance <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #alastor #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin #alastor x reader #alastor altruist #alastor fluff #alastor the radio demon #alastor x you #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x y/n #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk #husker #radio demon #overlord #overlords #alastor and rosie

[erwinsvow]

not to derail at all but i see your kook!reader (cause I love it, and how catty she is) at midsummers and raise you, pogue!reader having to choose between jj and rafe, when the gang decide to ditch the party. she’s there as kie’s +1 and when the whole thing goes tits up reader is stuck between the guy she’s been crushing on for years or the kook king who clearly has the hots for her which she not against.

also, you are genuinely one of my fave writers on this hellsite 😍😍😍 notifications on and every thing

baby i am gonna sob you are SOOO nice. notifs on? i am so beyond flattered. i love u <33 this idea is GOLDEN oh my god the brainrot im having rn. im gonna try to write a little for you but i cant even put it into words

kiara said you'd make the whole thing a lot more bearable. plus, out of your little pogue group, you were her parents' unspoken favorite, so it just seemed natural for you to tag along to midsummers as her plus one.

and as much you loved your best friend and thought the world of her for inviting you, your heart was pounding your chest while you got ready in kie's bedroom, applying make up and curling your hair and putting on your best (and one of your only nice clothes) dress.

dolled up like this, you even looked the part of the kook princess that you were sure was rafe cameron's type.

even the idea of thinking about him, and impressing him or him seeing you like this, felt guilty. it made a painfully acrid taste shoot into your mouth and run through your blood—there was no one your friends hated more than the boy you'd had a crush on for as long as you can remember.

it was stupid, ever even talking to him, getting involved and sneaking off for late night drives in his truck and meeting up in hidden corners where no one else could see. that's all it was though, secret encounters and a few kisses.

you hadn't let it progress further, knowing how your friends would react, knowing how rafe is. you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to tell you you're just like your pogue friends that he hates so much. he doesn't, though, that's what makes this so much harder.

out of all your friends, the idea of one in particular finding out there was or had been or was going to be something between you and rafe made you feel dizzy and uncomfortable all over. jj was always your closest friend, always the one you relied on for everything—he had helped you countless heartbreaks and emotions and moments of doubt.

a small part of you had always thought the two of you would end up together. everyone joked about it, pope and john digging into him for carrying you home when you get too drunk or lost your shoes on the beach, kiara teasing you when she finds out jj slept over your place again.

the idea of either finding out about your attachment for the other made you feel queasy. walking into midsummers with kie, the hem of your yellow dress rustling near your thighs, you thought you were safe since only rafe would be there tonight. you thought wrong.

rafe is talking to you when jj shows up.

"y'look nice." you stare up at him, unsure of what to say. "what? now i can't say somethin' nice?"

"when do you ever say something nice?" you ask, but your smile reveals itself before you can hold it back. rafe looks at you like he could get used to seeing you like this.

"m'always nice to you. i don't know, kid, this is nice. y'should come to the club with me some time." you laugh, looking down at your shoes.

"i don't know about all that-"

"hey, you. mandatory power hour at rixon's. c'mon, princess." you turn to see jj, face bruised and knuckles bleedng. you look back at rafe, and he looks smug, it's only then you notice his messed up hair.

"jayj? what's going on?"

"rafe, i mean this in the most disrespectful way possible, go away. tryna have a talk with my girl here, so-" your face burns.

"m'sorry, your girl?"

"apology not accepted. so if you could direct yourself over there to fuck off, that would be fantas-"

"j, wha- what's going on? how long have you been here?"

"long enough for cameron over here to set his little lap dogs on me. c'mon, i'm getting kie and pope and then we gotta go-"

"but, i, i-" you stop yourself, to think about what to say, when rafe cuts you off again.

"she's not going anywhere, we're having a conversation that you interrupted, fuckin' pogue."

"botherin' pretty girls, yeah, that sounds about right. get it through your thick skull, bud, she's not interested-"

"um, guys-" rafe shrugs, staring back at jj.

"that's not what she said last night. or the night before. so how about you do yourself a favor-"

"fuck's he talking about, princess?" jj looks at you, and you look at him, and then rafe, head spinning.

"yeah, kid, the fuck is he talkin' about?"

the glass in your hand drops and shatters when you faint and fall over.

#hahah she had to faint to get out of this mess yall !!! #this was so fun to write i adore u so much <3 #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #jj maybank

[lovelyhan]

— inflection point ⟢

pairing: jeonghan x reader x seungcheol

summary: after reconciling with your first love, all seems well in your relationship thus far. but when you notice jeonghan distancing himself from you and seungcheol, you're determined to get to the bottom of it.

word count: 7.6k words

tags: established relationship, angst, smut

warnings: graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

tags: @miko1ly - @misssugarlips - @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan - @amixoferrthang - @sysymei (sorry if i missed anyone!)

notes: give it up for part three! thank you so much for showing this series so much love! i hope you like how it all ends hehe :3c

additional notes: the smut is much filthier than usual, so i'm going to put the tags accordingly under the cut.

smut tags: morning sex, cockwarming, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart, etc.), spitroasting, manhandling, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare

part one - part two - part three | masterlist

“Me and Hannie?”

From where he’s seated across from you in this hole-in-the-wall restaurant that you dragged him into, Seungcheol nods before sticking a french fry into his mouth. “You never really told me how it all started.”

You frown. “I did.”

“Yeah, but ‘it was just your everyday office romance’ doesn’t really give me a lot to work with here, princess.”

You’re about to tell him to quit being a smartass when someone—who definitely isn’t the waitress that was mooning over your boyfriend when she took your orders—comes up to your table with a shy smile. It’s a boy that’s probably fresh out of high school, stammering with his words as he hands Seungcheol a pen and napkin. He immediately gets the gist.

“I keep forgetting that you’re a literal celebrity now,” you chuckle, sipping on your milkshake with a teasing look as the kid happily walks away with his idol’s autograph. “Star football player, Choi Seungcheol, spotted in a local diner with some girl.”

“Hey, you’re not just some girl.” He pouts. “You’re the love of my life.”

Past that strong personality of his, you tend to forget that Seungcheol is really just a big baby inside a buff man’s body. “So is Jeonghan, silly.”

“Okay, one of the loves of my life, then,” he grumbles. “Anyway, don’t think I already let you off the hook. Are you going to tell me how exactly you and Han wound up together or am I going to have to invite Soonyoung and Jihoon to dinner just to procure the details?”

That earns him a scowl. “Do you seriously think my best friends are just going to betray me like that?” 

Seungcheol shrugs. “You’re the one who said that Soonyoung will never pass up on the opportunity to gossip, and how Jihoon keeps a cool head about stuff at first, only to play devil’s advocate the longer the conversation progresses.”

Damn it. You hate how this guy is so attuned to every single thing in your life—your best friends’ flaws and weaknesses included. 

“Fine, fine,” you sigh before munching on the last bite of your burger. “Do you remember that time a few months ago when you had this really bad argument with Jeonghan in the office?”

Seungcheol raises his eyebrow. “You saw that?”

“No, Joshua just shared some of the details over lunch the day after,” you explain. “If I actually bore witness to it firsthand and realized you’re the one who’s been giving my hotter-than-hell boss more problems than he already has, I would’ve castrated you on the spot.”

He smirks. “Right. You’ve been crushing on him for…how many years?”

You roll your eyes at his attempt at gloating. “Since the day I first laid my eyes on him. Now focus, Cheol. Do you remember that day?”

“Of course I remember.”

“Then, I’ll have you know that right after Joshua and I had lunch, Jeonghan asked me to come up to his office to talk about something important.” 

Seungcheol nods. “Okay.”

“I thought it was about the report I gave him earlier that day, but…” You find your voice trailing off at the memory of Jeonghan—calm, sophisticated Yoon Jeonghan—forgoing his usual façade of level-headedness for something more…vulnerable. 

“He asked me if loving each other was enough to sustain a relationship. If it’s still worth continuing even if it always seems like something’s still missing no matter how much either of the people involved compromised.” 

You stare at Seungcheol to gauge his reaction, but he’s simply sitting there, eating the rest of his food in contemplative silence with an unreadable look. 

Hesitantly, you continue, “I didn’t…know who it was that made him ask all those questions, but even if I did, my answer would’ve been the same.”

“That is?”

You’re a little startled by the sudden switch-up in his expressions. One moment he’s indecipherable, and now he’s leaning forward on the table, as if wholly expectant of your response. You let out a quiet laugh, mirroring his actions before pressing a soft kiss on his nose. This considerably surprises Seungcheol, but he doesn’t flinch away regardless.

“If something’s missing, why don’t the two of you try looking for it?” you murmur. “Literally the only piece of advice I gave him, and it’s vague as hell. That came back to bite me in the ass a few weeks later, though, because—”

“He suddenly asked you to be our girlfriend?” Seungcheol supplies, reaching for your hand on the table before kissing the top of your hand with a dimpled smile. “Kind of a good call if you ask me. Although, now that you made me realize it…”

“Han totally did that because he can’t put up with me anymore, can he?” 

You snort out loud at his wild assumption. This guy, seriously…

“Quit being an idiot, Cheol. You think Hannie is that one-dimensional? That he thinks of you as some sort of kid that he has trouble dealing with alone?” 

“You’ll be surprised at how many times I’ve had to sleep on the couch because of my…childish tendencies.”

You sigh. Can’t exactly argue with him on that.

“Why’d you ask in the first place anyway?” you wonder. “This never really came up before.”

Seungcheol moves to rest his back against his seat, opening his mouth as if to answer—only to be interrupted by the sound of both of your phones chiming with text notifications. You’re the first to fish yours out, unlocking it to see that Jeonghan sent a message to your little groupchat with Seungcheol.

Hannie [8:22 P.M.]: hi, sorry. i might not be able to make it :( 

Hannie [8:22 P.M.]: meeting’s running late, i'll just grab dinner with shua

Me [8:23 P.M.]: it’s alright. take care on the way back home <3 ily

Hannie [8:25 P.M.]: i love you, too, baby

Your gaze flickers over to Seungcheol when you realize he hasn’t responded to Jeonghan’s update despite the read receipts. The fact that he probably won’t solidifies itself when he eventually turns his phone, screen-down on the table before flashing you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You want a refill on that milkshake?”

...

About two weeks after that odd dinner date with Seungcheol, you’re waiting eagerly for Jeonghan to come home from work as you made a mess in their kitchen. 

While you normally went home together with your boss-turned-boyfriend, he’s once again forced to stay behind since the business deal he’s been stressing about for a better part of the year is finally at its final stages today. Just a few more adjustments to the contract he’s setting up, and he’s home free.

On the drive to the grocery store, he informed you and Seungcheol that the agreements have finally been formalized on paper, and that he can finally get the break he deserves. Both of you were both proud of and happy for him, of course. And to commemorate that, you decided to rope Seungcheol into cooking dinner for Jeonghan from scratch.

Before you came into the picture, he and Jeonghan mostly relied on food delivery apps, much to your horror. Seungcheol is a pretty decent cook, but the man is lazier than a sloth when it comes to making food at home. Jeonghan, on the other hand, cannot be left alone in the kitchen without there being any sort of fire hazard.

You genuinely wonder how they survived all this time.

“And done,” you sigh, taking off your oven mitts once you’ve taken the lasagna out of the oven. “How’s the chicken going, Cheol? Haven’t burned it, have you?”

“I can do a decent job if I want to, you know,” he grumbles as he clicks his tongs together as if to prove a point. “See? It’s golden brown, just how Han likes it.”

You giggle before prancing behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist before pressing your cheek into his back. “That’s why I’m sure he is going to be really happy once he gets home.”

Once Seungcheol is done frying enough chicken strips as a side dish for the pasta recipe you looked up on a whim, you set the table in anticipation of Jeonghan’s arrival. Fancy tableware, a bottle of champagne, and—

By some stroke of luck, the man of the hour arrives while you’re in the middle of all the preparations—making you squeak with surprise before practically tackling him at the entrance.

“Congratulations, Hannie,” you coo, trapping him in a tight embrace before he can even set down his suitcase. “Joshua already spilled the details in the team groupchat. Don’t even try to act all humble.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he laughs, patting your head affectionately. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Welcome back.”

The two of you snap your heads in the direction of Seungcheol’s voice, where he emerges from the kitchen with two glasses of champagne in his hands. A wide smile roots itself onto your face when he hands the two of you one each. 

“Thank you, Cheol,” Jeonghan sighs with a small smile before taking a small sip. 

“Come on,” you say, tugging his arm with your free hand. “We prepared a really nice surprise for you!”

But to your confusion, Jeonghan resists your grip where he would normally relent, feet rooted in place as he flashes you an apologetic smile. You flash him a puzzled look.

“Sorry, love, I’m a bit…tired today,” he reasons. “You and Cheol made dinner, didn’t you? Thank you for going out of your way, but I should really head to bed before this migraine kills me.”

“But, won’t you feel better if you get some food in you?” You pout, glancing at Seungcheol for back-up. 

“I already ate on the way here, don’t worry,” Jeonghan reassures, leaning to kiss your forehead before handing the champagne glass back to Seungcheol. “That one’s aged pretty well. But I liked the bottle Mingyu gave us for our anniversary last year better.”

With that, Jeonghan has led himself to the bedroom, leaving you and Seungcheol standing there in blatant disbelief.

You turn to your remaining company in a snap. “Is everything alright with him?”

Seungcheol downs the rest of the champagne in one swig before letting out a deep sigh. “My guess is as good as yours.”

You and Seungcheol ruminate in the silence as the gears in your brain start to turn. Did any of you do something that he didn’t like? What could possibly catalyze Jeonghan’s sudden evasiveness?

“...Do you think he knows? About us?” 

“God, no.” Seungcheol shakes his head. “I thought it was our silent agreement to not let him know? And that was back when we quote-unquote hated each other.”

You chew the inside of your cheek from sheer nervousness, eyeing the feast for three that’s laid out on the dining table. 

“What if he already found out? What if he’s giving us the cold shoulder because we didn’t tell him up front?” you ask, hands going clammy with nervousness. 

“No. Stop it. You know Jeonghan isn’t like that,” Seungcheol says with a kind of dismissiveness that discourages you  from pressing the matter further. He even makes a beeline for your awaiting dinner just to get you to drop the topic altogether.

“Let’s eat. Don’t want the food we worked so hard for going cold, now do we?”

You cast one last glance at the hall in which Jeonghan disappeared into before letting out a withering sigh. 

Guess you’ll just leave him some leftover portions in the fridge.

…

When the weekend comes, so does your monthly get-together with Soonyoung and Jihoon, and like your last visit, all you’re bringing to the table is your stupid boyfriend problems. You’re honestly starting to feel bad for subjecting them to such a tiresome routine, but you know they’re more than happy to help.

“What do you mean you haven’t told Jeonghan?” Soonyoung exclaims with his hands on your shoulders, as if he’s doing everything in his power just to keep himself from throttling you. “I thought we were going to celebrate because you’ve made up with Cheol! Why are we suddenly hearing about a brand new problem?!”

“Uh…sorry?”

Jihoon sighs, flipping through a fashion magazine that’s normally just gathering dust under their coffee table. “Pray tell, why did you guys think it was a good idea to keep the fact that you’re exes from the person who brought you together again?”

You sigh, sinking into the cushions of their sofa the moment Soonyoung lets go of you. “Because we didn’t want to break Hannie’s heart with the news that we actually hate each other?”

“So you chose to break his heart later by keeping up such a stupid charade?” Soonyoung scoffs. “You’re better than this! I know you are! What happened?”

“Seungcheol happened,” Jihoon replies with a shake of his head. “You know how love makes people do crazy things? Yeah.”

“Hey, for the record, I did that for Jeonghan—”

“What? Lie to him?”

“Soonie!”

Your older best friend presses his lips together into a thin line, and you nearly sink to your knees just to beg for his forgiveness. But you know he’s just acting like this because he’s disappointed in you.  Honestly, you are, too.

“Okay, there’s nothing we can really do about it now,” Jihoon sighs. “But you’re bringing this up because you think Jeonghan knows, right? Even if you and Seungcheol haven’t breathed a word about it?”

Soonyoung makes a noise in complaint. “But how can Jeonghan not know? Doesn’t everyone share their dating history to their current partner? Are you sure Seungcheol hasn’t said anything? And…isn’t Jeonghan like an evil person that’s always one step ahead of his opponents?”

Both you and Jihoon look at him like he’s just grown a second head.

“What? That’s how she described him when she lost the mafia game during a Christmas party back then.”

“At this point, I don’t really think it matters if he knows or not,” Jihoon interjects before turning to you with a stern look. “You’ve been with him and Seungcheol for almost three months now. Don’t you think it’s about time both of you came clean about the past anyway?” 

Soonyoung nods. “Yeah! What he said!” 

You puff out your cheeks, once again humbled by your friends’ observations. It’s funny how you claim to be a grown woman who’s learned from her past mistakes, but the fact that you keep making even more kind of revokes that. 

Still, you guess it isn’t too late to tell the truth.

“Hey! Where are you going?” you hear Soonyoung call out from the living room as you bolt to the entrance of their apartment—hastily putting your shoes back on.

“To get the love of my life to forgive me,” you say, before contemplatively adding, “one of the loves of my life.” 

Then, you’re off, telling yourself to just treat them to dinner once you’ve got your boyfriend problems sorted out.

…

You find it a bit silly, how you nearly forgot how to commute to your boyfriends’ house, given the amount of times the Seungcheol has driven you on the way instead. But you make do anyway, since neither of them are expecting the visit—having told them you’d be spending the weekend at Soonyoung and Jihoon’s. 

There’s no answer when you ring the doorbell, but Seungcheol’s car is parked in the garage right next to Jeonghan’s, so you’re certain that they’re home. You bounce on the balls of your feet for a few moments before ringing it again, anticipation buzzing through your veins.

But when no one comes to open the door for you after five minutes, you decide to rummage through your bag for the spare key they gave you back then—hastily twisting it in the keyhole before letting yourself in.

The lights in the living room are off, and it’s the same case for the dining room. You glance around at the shoe rack near the entrance to confirm whether or not Seungcheol went out for a run. However, when your ears catch the sound of muted conversation at the end of the hall, you suspect that they’re inside the bedroom.

With each step closer, you get a better idea of what they must be talking about. From the earnest tone in Seungcheol’s voice, you figure that it must be serious. 

Could he have beaten you to telling Jeonghan the truth? God, couldn’t he have at least invited you over if he did? You have to take responsibility, too!

But as you raise your fist to knock on the door, you immediately still at the sound of someone sniffling.

You don’t even bother announcing your presence anymore, swinging the door open with eyes alert. On the mattress, you see Seungcheol and Jeonghan sitting at the edge—the latter with his face buried in the former’s chest. Seungcheol was in the middle of placating him by smoothing a hand across his back, but he immediately snaps his gaze to the door as you barge in. 

“Hannie?” you whisper. 

Jeonghan immediately springs away from Seungcheol’s grasp—eyes blotchy with tears. His lips part with surprise when he recognizes you and makes quick work of his face by hiding it from view.

“Sweetheart, what’re you doing here?” he asks, trying (in vain) to mask the nasal tone of his voice. “Did Soonyoung kick you out or something?”

You don’t answer him right away, instead rushing to his side to give him a hug of your own. Jeonghan stiffens beneath your touch—not having expected you to give it with little context behind your actions. But you’re actually doing it to catch Seungcheol’s gaze to mouth, what the hell is going on?

Jeonghan is crying. Jeonghan never cries.

Ever since the night Jeonghan rejected your little dinner surprise, it’s like both you and Seungcheol were walking on eggshells around him. Something was obviously wrong, but Jeonghan would either brush it off or find some excuse to not talk about it. 

Seungcheol got the brunt of it, living under the same roof and all. It gave rise to many sleepless nights and a few blunders here and there whenever he’s training. You even offered for him to crash at your apartment if he wants to, but he outright refused—saying that the last thing he wants to do is leave Jeonghan alone when he’s like…this.

It got so bad that you even asked Joshua if he knew anything, but Jeonghan’s secretary merely told you that he hasn’t been acting all that different at work. 

Now, though…

Seungcheol looks considerably less agitated compared to how he was over the last two weeks. There’s a gentle look in his eyes that tells you, it’s alright, it’s going to be okay.

“He knows,” Seungcheol starts with a sheepish smile. “He’s known all this time.”

It takes you a while to digest the newfound information, letting go of Jeonghan in favor of looking into his tear-stricken eyes. Your lover manages a tight-lipped smile, an apology written in his eyes before he can even say a word.

“But…how?” 

Jeonghan swallows thickly, forcing himself to breathe. “Before you get any ideas, I was completely in the dark when I introduced the both of you. I just had this…feeling. That the two of you would get along swimmingly.”

You breathe in deeply through your nose, exhaling through parted lips. Before Jeonghan can continue, you take your seat right beside him.

“So…when did you figure it out?”

“Neither of you were being discreet about the fake affection, so I figured that you must have known each other from somewhere,” he says, the ghost of a smile hovering over his lips. “It just so happens that I remembered a story you told me back then—about the ex who straight up left after taking your first time—”

Seungcheol winces in the corner of your eye. You don’t even remember telling Jeonghan about your ‘legendary shitty ex’ as Jihoon permanently branded Seungcheol. But you’re notorious for making a reputation for yourself in those annual company Christmas parties once the alcohol sets in, so…

“—and how the details coincide a bit too well with how Seungcheol described his first relationship ended.” Jeonghan pauses, fidgeting with his fingers on his lap. “I only had a hunch back then, so I made Joshua look into your records, and…that’s when I found out you graduated from the same high school as Cheol.”

Isn’t Jeonghan like an evil person that’s always one step ahead of his opponents? Soonyoung’s voice echoes in your mind.

‘One step ahead of his opponents’, sure, but ‘an evil person’...? 

From the years you’ve spent working (and pining for) your boss, you know that Jeonghan has an incurable habit of being a tease. And sure, you’ve described him as such whenever he’s out to drive you insane on purpose, but… 

Right now, you know Jeonghan’s intentions are anything but malicious.

“Why didn’t you call us out on our bullshit then?” you mumble, more because you’re still afraid to take responsibility for your own silence than anything else. So much for making things right. “If you knew all along then why’d we all have to play house like nothing’s wrong?”

“Because I wanted the both of you to sort out your issues between yourselves first,” Jeonghan says, and the smile on his face turns sad. “And you did. I’m so proud that you did. Both of you won’t even be able to understand how happy I was to see you two curled up together in bed when I got home from Busan.”

The confused look on your face doesn’t let up. “But you still didn’t…” 

For a moment, Jeonghan looks as if he’s about to burst into tears again, but Seungcheol places a hand on his waist. A silent reassurance. 

“I didn’t want to rush you,” he says, despite the fact that this is something you and Seungcheol should’ve told him right from the start. “I wanted to give the two of you the time and space to get used to being together again. Really being together. But…”

On a whim, you take Jeonghan’s delicate hands in yours. You’re not even sure if it makes things any easier for him, but when you see how his tense shoulders relax at your touch, you figure this is alright.

“Seeing the chemistry you both had despite all the years that passed, all the time you missed… I think I got a little over my head every time I saw it.” Jeonghan laughs mirthlessly. “You told me back then that Seungcheol and I might just be missing something, which was why things were so rocky between us. I thought that something was you, but then I gave it a little more thought and…

“Maybe both of you were simply missing each other, and that I shouldn’t have been part of the picture to begin with.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, your grip tightens around his hands, staring at him with slack-jawed silence. “Jeonghan, are you out of your goddamn mind?”

He shakes his head, wiping the rest of the tears from his eyes. “Seungcheol asked the same thing before you arrived. I might just be, if you’re both reacting that way.”

“Is that the reason you were so distant these past few weeks?” you ask, voice betraying the thick coil of emotion clinging to your throat. “Don’t tell me you were planning to break up with us because of it—”

“No,” Jeonghan says sharply, eyes widening when he sees you on the verge of tears as well. “God, no. This is just me falling prey to my own insecurities, sweetheart. I would— I would never leave both of you because of something that can be solved by holding a proper conversation.”

Okay. You forgot for a moment that Jeonghan isn’t an emotionally volatile high schooler that would abandon you at a drop of a hat at the slightest inconvenience. Neither is Seungcheol, and that’s why you’re all sitting down to talk about all of this now.

Just like you should have a long time ago.

“Han, look at me,” Seungcheol pleads, and Jeonghan is quick to relent—puffy eyes meeting his earnest gaze. “Don’t you ever think that we’re better off without you. After all, the reason that brought us back together in the first place isn’t just you, but the fact that we both love you. So fucking much.”

You couldn’t have said it better yourself, actually.

Seungcheol is your first love, that much is true, and even if the two of you encountered several difficulties when it came to making amends, you both conquered the ghosts of the past side by side. But that doesn’t make you love Jeonghan any less.

You’ve been pining for the man for God knows how long, and now that he’s become such an integral part of your life—having learned how to love him past the superficial infatuation—you can’t even imagine living without him.

It’s never just you and Seungcheol. Or you and Jeonghan. Or Jeonghan and Seungcheol, for the matter. 

The best of things come in threes—as unconventional as it is, that’s how your life has always been.

A few moments later, you manage a warm smile, lifting Jeonghan’s hands to your lips so you could plant kisses on his knuckles. “Mhmm. You think someone as hard-headed as Seungcheol would stick around someone he isn’t crazy about?”

Jeonghan breathes through a chuckle. “You both might kill me for this, but didn’t Cheol do the exact opposite back when you two were still—”

“Han.”

“Hannie.”

More than offensive remarks aside, the fact that Jeonghan is cracking that no-good smile of his again tells you that the storm has more or less passed. 

And you couldn’t ask for anything more.

“We’re still sorry for keeping our past a secret,” you say once three of you are lounging back on the cloud couch again—buried beneath Jeonghan’s favorite blanket as you all watch a kid’s movie that he insisted on watching. “Right, Cheol?”

“More than sorry,” he sighs before pressing his lips on the crown of Jeonghan’s head. “We’ll do anything to make up for it.”

“Hm? Anything?”

Part of you knows that giving Jeonghan that kind of power is a very dangerous thing. God knows what kind of schemes are stewing in this man’s head. But for once, you let him have a free pass for all the mischief he can come up with.

“Then…” he starts before turning to you, eyes alight with adoration. 

“I want you to move in with us. For real.”

The words sink in a few moments too late, and you can only dole out a dazed, “What?” before Seungcheol crushes both you and Jeonghan into a life-threatening hug.

“Please say yes,” he whispers, burying his face between yours and Jeonghan’s shoulders. “Please.”

You can feel the rumble of Jeonghan’s laughter reverberating right next to you, and you can only sigh in defeat.

How could you ever say no to them?

…

There are lots of advantages to living with your two boyfriends after several back-and-forths between their house and your apartment for the past three months.

First is that you’re never alone. At work, it’s a given that you’ll be more or less in Jeonghan’s company, but when you spend weekends at your apartment, it gets a little lonely, especially when your boyfriends and best friends are busy during its entirety. 

Now Seungcheol and Jeonghan always make sure you have company whenever one of them has prior commitments to attend to. No matter how much you say that you really don’t mind the solitude, they were having none of it. 

Second, it’s a lot easier to get things done around the house. You’ve gotten so used to doing all your chores by yourself, that you’re still surprised to walk back into the kitchen—intent on cleaning up after the pots and pans you used to whip up dinner—only to see them squeaky clean and already drying with the dishes. 

It’s the same thing with laundry, which is a chore that Seungcheol has a weird affinity for getting done whenever he has the time. Jeonghan has also adopted a habit of watering your plants before you can even remember to do so—making the idea of living with them all the more endearing, with how considerate they are of your lifestyle.

But you’re pretty sure that the best advantage is…

“Angel, you have to be quiet if you don’t want Cheol to wake up.”

Easier said than done, really. You don’t usually start your mornings with Jeonghan’s cock stuffed in your aching pussy while Seungcheol snored softly just a few inches away—squirming in your lover’s grasp as he gloats about how needy you’re being. But ever since you’ve moved into your boyfriends’ house, each day comes with a different surprise. 

“Hannie,” you whimper, shifting your thighs on his lap just a little to grant yourself a sliver of friction. “We’re going to be late.”

Jeonghan chuckles none-too-mischievously in your ear, lips latching onto the sweet spot just below the cut of your jaw. You instantly mewl in response—walls clenching around his girth. 

“Then I’ll just have to bribe Shua into overlooking today’s time cards,” he whispers, making a show of teasing you by shallowly thrusting his hips against yours. “Besides, don’t you prefer warming my cock on a cold morning, love? Much better than our usual nine-to-five monotone, don’t you think?”

“I’d prefer,” you start with a hiss, “if you just fucked me properly somewhere else instead of sneaking around our sleeping boyfriend!”

Jeonghan hums, trailing those sinful lips down your neck. “Or I can fuck you here and wait for Cheol to wake up and see the show we’re putting on.”

The picture he’s putting inside your head has a rush of heat searing through your core—Seungcheol still blinking out the haze of sleep from his eyes while Jeonghan pounds you into the mattress, calling you all those filthy names that have your toes curling. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve begged for him to get on with it right away. 

But it just so happens that Seungcheol is a sore loser that hates missing out on the fun stuff you do with Jeonghan in bed. If you woke him up and incurred his wrath now, you might not be able to walk out of this bedroom, much less go to work.

Jeonghan knows that goddamn well. 

“Aww, our baby’s whining,” he coos, a hand sneaking under your sleep shirt as he squeezes one of your breasts. “Can’t make up your mind? You want to get wrecked on my cock first thing in the morning, but you also don’t want Cheol to hard dom you right before work? What a dilemma! I wonder how I can help you.”

“Yoon Jeonghan, you’re a fucking menace.”

Jeonghan giggles before turning your head so he can kiss your frowning lips. “What a coincidence, love. You’re fucking this menace right now.”

With your sanity on the verge of snapping, you force yourself to turn around to face him—trying your best to ignore how his cock slides along with your movements. Jeonghan’s eyes widen just a tad before you’re lacing your fingers around his nape, bringing him in for a kiss.

“Hannie, don’t you feel sorry for me?” you mouth the words against his lips, rolling your hips to finally get the friction you’ve been craving since you woke up to Jeonghan grinding his morning wood into your ass. “I’ve been so good for you, and you still don’t want to give me what I want?”

Jeonghan groans, lithe fingers immediately migrating to your hips as he guides your movements—that teasing front of his starting to crumble. After all, he’s still just a man, and you have something that Seungcheol likes to call a magic pussy. 

“Don’t you want to stuff me full of cum?” you whisper in his ear, purposely clenching down on his cock until you feel him throb inside you. “Fuck me so full, I’ll be dripping in the office?”

“Baby, you know the breeding kink is more of Cheol’s thing,” he laughs hoarsely before swinging his legs over to the side of the bed. 

“But I kind of get why he likes it so much now.”

You let out a little noise of surprise when Jeonghan gets up—dick very much still inside you—as he supports your weight with his hands on your ass. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his narrow waist, and Jeonghan presses a kiss on the tip of your nose, smiling.

He crosses the threshold of the room with you in his arms, setting you down on the vanity table that Seungcheol purchased for you a few days before you moved in with them. The thought of Jeonghan taking you here, of all places, makes your head spin. 

“Tightest fucking pussy I’ve ever felt,” he moans before pulling his hips back—only to snap forwards with a force that has you clinging onto him like a lifeline. “You wouldn’t be able to fit me and Cheol at the same time, would you?”

Jeonghan’s arms wrap themselves securely around your waist, eyes trained on the blissed out look on your face. He chuckles as your head lolls to the side, dazed with the feeling of his cock making a mess of you with every thrust. 

In your depraved trance, you see Seungcheol fast asleep on his side of the bed—completely oblivious to what his two lovers are up to—and the fact of the matter only serves to arouse you further. 

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

When Jeonghan completely stills inside you, it takes every bit of dignity you have left just to keep yourself from whining. Not that you weren’t already doing that, but you don’t want to give Jeonghan more of an ego boost than you already have. 

“I can,” you whimper. “I can fit both of you inside me. Please Hannie, just—”

Jeonghan doesn’t have to be told twice. Intent on rewarding such obedient behavior, he gathers your hair with his free hand before yanking on it, hard. The pain that prickles your scalp only serves to heighten the pleasure he’s giving you, and when you feel his teeth scrape the skin of your neck, you just know it’ll take you a while to get your makeup in place. 

“Good, good girl,” Jeonghan praises once he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on your skin—hickeys blooming like flowers in the spring. “Are you close, sweet thing? You need help getting there?”

You nod a little too fast, tears catching in the corners of your eyes once you start to feel your orgasm sizzling underneath your skin. Fortunately for you, Jeonghan is done with all the teasing—the hand that was just in your hair migrating between your slotted bodies until he finds your clit. You muffle the lewd noises spilling from your lips by biting down on his shoulder, causing Jeonghan to groan in the sexiest way possible.

“Squeezing me so goddamn well,” he sighs, raking his fingers through his long hair before forcing you to look back at your reflection in the mirror. Your thighs are spread wide for him, eyes red with tears as the vanity jostles with every thrust. “Go on, sweetheart, let yourself go for me. Need to feel you cum on my cock.”

“Can’t believe you’re starting without me. Again.”

Jeonghan’s movements falter for a millisecond at the sound of Seungcheol’s sexy but sulky morning voice, but he simply breathes out an airy laugh before continuing to wreck you. With his back turned to Seungcheol, who’s already taking his own cock out of his boxers, Jeonghan can’t see the predatory gleam in those sleepy eyes.

“Han, don’t you two have work today?” Seungcheol asks as he wraps his arms around Jeonghan’s waist—grinding his half-hard length into his ass. “Why does it look like you’re fucking her until she can’t walk?”

“That’s the plan, babe,” Jeonghan laughs. 

“Mean. How would you feel if you got a taste of your own medicine, and I did the same to you?”

You let out a sharp cry when Jeonghan manages to graze your g-spot with the head of his cock, fingers tightening around the edge of the vanity as your two lovers flirted right in front of you. Jeonghan chuckles at your adorable reaction before tilting his head to give Seungcheol a little kiss.

“You already had my ass last night, Cheol. I think you’re in the mood for a different kind of hole this morning.” 

The buildup of your orgasm rapidly fades when you feel Jeonghan’s cock slip out of you. You’re on the verge of tears when you whisper a quick, “No, no, no…” But Seungcheol is quick to pacify you when he gathers you into his strong arms—tossing you back onto the bed. He maneuvers you so your face is pressed against the cool sheets and your ass is in the air.

Having switched positions too quickly, you’re disoriented for a couple of seconds before you realize that Jeonghan is right in front of you again—a tight fist wrapped around his cock as if he’s waiting for something.

But even if your brain is yet to comprehend what it is that he wants, your body responds accordingly, struggling a little as you propped yourself on your elbows before taking his dick into the heat of your mouth. 

“Our baby is so cock-drunk, isn’t she?” Seungcheol chuckles from behind you, where you can feel him smooth down those rough hands of his against the swell of your ass—grinding his cock into the mess Jeonghan made between your legs. “Can’t get off on just one anymore. Has to take both of us to feel satisfied.”

“This one said she can take us both in that tight pussy of hers, Cheol,” Jeonghan laughs along with him, gathering your hair in his hands to keep the strands from falling into your face. “You think we should take her up on that?”

“Mmm… We can. When you’re not running late for work, that is.”

Fuck work, honestly. If Jeonghan had the choice to become a baser creature who lived off sex alone or an established figure in a multimillion dollar company, he would’ve chosen the former in every single lifetime. 

The moan that Seungcheol rips out of your throat once he bottoms out inside you is immaculate. Each thrust sends you forward—nearly pressing your nose into Jeonghan’s pubic bone with each bob of your head. Seungcheol has half the mind to stop for a moment to check if you’re alright, but the fact that his aggression just spurred you on to swallow even more of Jeonghan’s cock tells him that he’s in the clear.

Jeonghan hisses when he feels you massaging his cock with the muscles of your throat, holding back that gag reflex like a fucking champ. It’s a miracle how you eased yourself into deepthroating him while Seungcheol destroys your cunt, but he’s not about to complain. 

Being stuffed with your lovers’ cocks on both ends, your mind is simply on autopilot—just sitting there and taking everything they’re willing to give you like a good little girl. 

Seungcheol growls upon recognizing how willing and pliant you are, fingers digging into your hips until the skin glows red from his grip. 

“C-Cheol—” You gasp, breaking away from Jeonghan’s dick for a breather. “So close. Please.”

“Who said you could stop sucking off Han, baby?” he whispers dangerously. “You’re not allowed to cum until you’ve swallowed everything Jeonghan gives you. Understood?”

You don’t even have to give him a verbal response—immediately getting back to work Jeonghan into his much-awaited release. The desperation is clear in his movements, hands holding your head in place as he fucks your mouth with reckless abandon. Seungcheol smirks as he presses down on your lower back, forcing your spine into an arch that he’s damn sure would make him hit angles he normally wouldn’t be able to. 

And he’s right. Your moans are muffled by Jeonghan’s cock, but from the way your body thrashes beneath him, Seungcheol has definitely found that sweet spot inside you.

“Will you let me cum down your throat, sweetheart?” Jeonghan asks hoarsely, yet everyone in the room knows the question is rhetorical. “Don’t waste a single drop, okay?”

Then your mouth is filled with the warm liquid spurting from your lover’s cock, still thrusting into the cavern of your mouth as he rides out his orgasm. Seungcheol fucking adores seeing the glazed look in your eyes as you take every drop Jeonghan dumps into your throat, spurring him on to chase his own orgasm so he can do the same with your greedy little pussy.

It’s a good thing he knows exactly how to make you fall apart.

Once you’ve swallowed Jeonghan’s load, Seungcheol doesn’t even give you a second to breathe—reaching out to rub two fingers around your overstimulated clit. You cry out in sheer pleasure, the sound shooting straight to his cock, and that’s when he knows he’ll burst any second now.

“Cum on my cock, princess,” Seungcheol leans over your back to growl into your ear. “Let me feel you milk me fucking dry.”

Your orgasm crests before you can even feel it build up to the pinnacle, blindsiding you with pleasure so severe, you barely feel it when Seungcheol stills inside you—his emission rushing in to cream your pussy until drips out of your hole from how much he came. 

It fills you with a sense of extreme bliss that has you collapsing back onto the mattress the moment Seungcheol surrenders the iron grip on your waist.

“Shit. I think we broke her.”

You don’t know how much time has passed when you finally come to your senses again, but you’re bundled up beneath the comforter—dressed in fresh clothes, and feeling just a little sore. Your brain is still having a bit of trouble going back online, but your first instinct is to glance at the digital clock on Jeonghan’s side of the bed, and—

“Fuck,” you mutter, throwing the covers off you when the screen reads 11:45 A.M. “Fucking late on a Monday morning…”

While scrambling out of bed to get ready is what you planned to do, your body obviously isn’t able to keep up with the first thing on your agenda—legs immediately giving out underneath you before you land on the floor with a solid thud. You wince in pain before remembering the events that transpired just a few hours earlier, and why you’re probably going to have to call in sick for the day.

“Whoa, sweetheart. Don’t get out of bed just yet.”

Your ears perk up at the sound of Jeonghan’s voice from where he’s seated in front of his laptop on the desk in the far end of the room. He has his work glasses on, but doesn’t look like he’s dressed for work itself, if the baggy shirt and sweats combo doesn’t already speak for itself.

“What are we still doing here?” you groan weakly when he rushes to your side and helps you back onto the mattress. “We have work—”

“Work that we can do in the comfort of our home,” Jeonghan laughs, kissing your forehead as he tucks you back in. “I told Joshuji to overlook this in exchange for a dinner treat tomorrow, don’t worry.”

You scowl at him, slapping his arm. “I can’t believe you bribed Joshua just so we can stay in after you both fucked me into unconsciousness!”

“Don’t say that you didn’t enjoy every second of it, babe.”

Of course Seungcheol chooses this exact time to barge into the room with a tray full of post-sex necessities in his arms. Some pain killers, your stainless water bottle, some leftovers from the fridge, and your favorite tea—

“No. I’m not letting either of you off the hook!” you huff, crossing your arms even as Seungcheol seats himself next to you to place the tray on top of the mattress. “No more intense sex before work!”

Jeonghan shakes his head. “I don’t know why you love your job so much, sweet thing. If I could work from home everyday, I seriously would.”

“Wish I could say the same for me, too,” Seungcheol sighs, and that’s when you notice that he’s already dressed in his training clothes. “By the way, they already released the game schedules for this year’s FIFA World Cup. I’ll send it to you guys later so you can book flights and accommodations in advance.”

“Hmm, does fucking in a hotel room in Qatar before Cheol plays a match count as ‘intense sex before work’?” Jeonghan asks teasingly, and you kick him in the stomach.

“We will not do that because Jihoon and Soonyoung wanted to watch Cheol’s international games with us!” you scold before reaching out for the cup of tea that (you loath to admit) Seungcheol brewed perfectly. “No sex within hearing range of my two best friends. I traumatized them with my problems enough already.” 

Seungcheol hums contemplatively. “Hmm… They won’t be able to hear if we book a separate room for them—”

“Choi Seungcheol!”

The loving banter between yourself and your two lovers comes so easily these days, it’s hard to imagine that your relationship once had rocky foundations. But the time you spent cultivating the love that naturally blossomed between the three of you is worth all the adversaries you had to go through just to get to where you are now.

And for now, you’re more than content with that.

end notes: here we are at the end of it! i cannot thank you all enough for reading through my jeongcheol brain damage (bc brain rot just doesn't cut it anymore LOL). i hope you enjoyed consuming it as much as i enjoyed writing it! lemme know ur thoughts in the tags/reblogs bc i am Thirsty for validation HEHE

poly jeongcheol missing hours? you can read up more on them in the series masterlist!

#seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #svt smut #svt fanfic #jeonghan #s.coups #seventeen x reader #yoon jeonghan #choi seungcheol #lovelyhan #🐇 500 #full length fic 📚

[precious-little-scoundrel]

| Ida’s Law

Introductory Part

Summary: The American War Effort had conceded to the enlisting and commissioning of women into the Air Force at semi-integrated status. Deemed a more reliable if not safer combat post, the going rank of officer in the Air Force was intended to secure fair treatment and combatant status for these women, as it had for their male counterparts. Like most things in war -or life, if one is a woman- such recognition must be fought for.

Warnings: disturbing content- if you made it through last one this one should be a breeze, however it picks up where we left off so expect mentions of war, wounds, illusions to past rapes, Nazis being racist fucks, possibly some internalized misogyny about it all and some hopefully very 🥹🤧 reunions

A Note Going Forward: With this part now published, I am happy to open this series up for prompts. Ideally I’d like this series to end up being exclusively prompt-inspired and will be putting out prompt lists accordingly. I think that will be a fun way to keep the interaction going, stretch my own skills and explore all the different scenarios that may intrigue y’all. You’re welcome to come up with your own prompts, too. All are welcome, none guaranteed but let’s be real -I’m obsessed with this AU so I’ll likely do it. For now I’ll be keeping all writing to POW Camp and Liberation and Post-Liberation timelines.

“Well, what do we know?” Ida Brady asked the first officer out on the other side as they began to filter through the laborious processing of the camp. She counted them down, one familiar face after another appearing through the doorway again with no worse indignity than the new identification tags hanging from their necks.

“I hate a guy named Johann, and I like a guy named Fritz, and the lieutenant guy wasn’t bad.” Maureen declared, straightening her precious cap atop muddy auburn tresses. “Who went and named their son Fritz after the last war? I mean really? Who does that to a kid? It’s like he’s making up for it now, though, awfully nice.”

“Mm, I thought so, too.” Ida hummed, “Might keep an eye on that one, work on him a bit. You think, Kendeigh?”

“Work on him yourself, Ida.” Maureen scoffed.

“Not much to work with.” Ida retorted, the first general reference to her disfigurement she’d made. “What do you know? What’s up?” she left off to inquire after Tallulah Smith who came out the other side of processing looking more than exasperated.

“Know? They don’t know squat.” she said, “Never heard of a Cherokee.”

“I’ll be.” Maureen was grinning sharply. “Wasn't enough being a woman for ya Smith, ya had to go and be a brown one.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” She griped, “They kept insisting I was a fighter pilot. That’s what all the ‘dark ones’ are, according to them. Told them I’d rewire their insides and maybe then they’d take my engineering degree seriously.”

“I’d like to see that.” Maureen murmured, drowsiness beginning to take over at the comparative calm of their new surroundings.

“Looks like we got everyone, yeah?” Ida peered over the heads of the crowing room and counted out her charges in a silent tally.

“Looks like.” Smith agreed. “Got billet assignments?”

“I do. Colonel Clark, most senior prisoner here, said the combines are strict but the rooms aren’t. Let’s try to behave until we feel our way, then we can swap, if they allow.”

“It’s going to smell like feet no matter where and who we share it with.” Smith pointed out and Ida heaved a great sigh as if that were the hardest prospect she’d yet encountered.

“Mm.”

“Buck is out there!” Maureen suddenly cried out, grabbing at Ida’s arm, pointing out the window at the muddy yard.

“How nice. Gotta get this sorted first, eyes in, Kendeigh.”

Maureen reluctantly tore her eyes away from her dearly missed pilot. “Yes sir.”

“All right,” Ida’s voice carried as well as it ever had, commanding immediate quiet and attention, “those in the 350th, 419th, -the hundredth!- on me. Gather ‘round. That’s it, come on. Alright, well, we made it, well done. Truly, well done to all of you. Now I know you well enough to not accuse any of you of being pure idiots, just because we made it to where we wanted to go doesn’t mean any of what’s ahead is going to be easy. Be wary, don’t let your guard down, you don’t know plenty of these men and they don’t know you, I’m sure there are measures in place for spying already. Be sensible. I am certain we can rely on the kindness of those in the hundredth, but even then keep in mind, if you are cold, they are too, if you're hungry, you best believe they are hungrier, the last thing we need is a crisis of chivalry in here. Rely on them, except their help, but don’t ever take from them. Understood? And one more thing, since the human spirit is irrepressible I feel it’s warranted to make one more housekeeping note. None, and I do mean none, no inner relations at all are allowed. I don’t care how cold you are, how sweet he’s been, or how much you’ve missed him. The Red Cross aren’t sending rubbers, and don’t ever take the promise of a pull out. Do you want a one-way ticket to a death camp or a bullet to the head? Get pregnant. Simple as that. You think the Jerries think poorly of you now for being female? Try being a matron. The point is to blend in as much as possible, keep that in mind. Whatever you do, keep that in mind. Understood?”

“Yes sir!”

“Colonel?” One voice demurred, raised hand and respectful title only forerunners for an obvious objection incoming.

“Yes? Sanchez, isn’t it? You’re not one of mine, I think.”

“No, sir, 55th -fighters.”

“Yes, well, welcome. What’s your question?”

“No offense sir but- what about the guards?” Sanchez asked.

��We don’t know yet,” Brady replied with typical candor, “I believe so far we’ve seen a mix here. I’m sure our friends can give us tips on who to watch out for.”

“No sir, sorry I meant-“ Sanchez kept her teeth clenched until her thoughts seemed to form better, “-you said no relations. What about the guards? No disrespect meant colonel and I don’t know about yours, but mine -they weren’t pulling out.”

“Mm.” Maureen thought that if Ida smashed her lips together any tighter they’d turn whiter than her skin, the bent aviators she had managed to preserve this entire time did a remarkable job of masking whatever feeling was stiffening her spine to the current degree, but all the same, her spine was stiff, “no offense taken, an excellent point. I’ll inquire about any possible…remedies. Anyone else?”

A multitude of hands shot up and Ida Brady scanned them with bewilderment until she realized her lapse in specificity. “Anyone else with questions, I meant! Saints alive. No? Good, let’s claim our bunks and see about a wash.”

After the dark interior of the building, being processed for hours, the hazy late afternoon light of outside glared painfully against Ida’s bloodshot eyes as she stepped out, leading the way down the three wooden steps to the muddy yard. Monochrome, this place, brown wooden buildings and brown earth and a muddy sky and brown flight jackets one after another.

And there in the midst of it, waiting for them with ever constant patience and thinned stateliness was Gale Cleven and his lost blue eyes and an alarmingly symmetrical set of facial scars.

“Major.” Ida felt her face soften into an odd expression she realized was likely that of relief. Cleven had that way about him, it was better suited to her preferences than Egan’s blustering warm hearted concern, Colonel Harding’s gruff joviality or her John’s perpetually intense concern. Her little brother was, oddly, nowhere to be seen now and that was a comfort in this wide open, highly observed space.

“Colonel.” Gale Cleven’s eyes weren’t a lost blue anymore but a pair of stormy seas and Ida steeled herself for pity. She found smoldering rage in his face instead. Another relief.

“How was it?” he was nodding to the command hut.

“Fine.” she assured.

He was searching for something in her face and Ida was sure it was easily found skin deep along her puffy, purpled left cheek, but if she had anything to do with her expression alone, he’d be kept guessing for ages. “Good.” he decided at last but his smile was tight, “Made John wait in the combine, he’s in there pacing like a madman. They make a note of who’s attached to whom, Colonel,” he explained, “a more discreet reunion seemed in order.”

“We’d appreciate all the direction you—“ Ida had begun but was cut short by Lt. Kendeigh who broke ranks from the processed group and came out of the hut behind Ida like a bat out of hell, running up to Cleven and tackling him in a hug, rather like a dog with their long lost master.

The Major’s lanky frame staggered under her surprise attack, perhaps more from shock and ill preparedness than poor rations and a weakened constitution. Or at least Ida, hoped that was the case.

Well, there went all intentions for discretion about partiality on their part, five seconds had gone by and Maureen still hadn’t let go, her valued cap about ready to knock off her head and his too. Seeing the gig was up, Cleven even belatedly brought an arm up to hug her shoulders, his pleased face bashfully pacifying her intensity. “If it isn’t my favorite bombardier.” Cleven mumbled, his lips failing not to tug upwards in the tiniest of smiles, and he gave her a pat on the back.

“Buck!” Smith was coming in hot behind Kendeigh and knocked Ida’s shoulder in her haste to get around her and join in. “Thank Jesus you’re here.” she grunted as she squeezed him and Kendeigh both, “I mean -we’re sorry you’re here but since we’re here-“

“Glad you’re here, too, Smith.” he assured her gently, another pat on another back and Ida watched Cleven’s composure began to flake as he took stock of their roughened appearances. “It’s gonna be ok now.” he offered, and coming from someone else that statement would’ve sounded a great deal less impressive than it did coming from him. It also sounded hollow without Bucky’s typical parroting of the upbeat sentiment. “Let’s get you girls sorted.” he nodded at Ida who fell in alongside him, if only to distance and displace Kendeigh and her over familiarity just a tad.

“What’s your Kommandant like?” Ida asked by way of conversation as Gale directed them in a trudge along the brown paths towards his specified hut.

“Think I know him as well as you.” Gale admitted, “Tried to stay low, been no reason for socializing. Wouldn’t advise a trip to the camp doctor though.” He added the last part after a beat.

“Why?”

“Your Johnny says he’s got an experimental mind.” Gale smiled wryly but there was a grieved look behind it that made Ida’s pulse pound in alarm, “If you go in with a cold, you might come out with a radioactive arm instead.”

“Noted.” Ida muttured with a shiver, wishing to god her jacket hadn’t been taken off her a couple stops ago, the sun was waning in the dull sky and the breeze was frigid without it. “Speaking of doctors,” she decided to go for it, “is Johnny -my John- is he alright? At the gate it was such a racket, was he…standing?”

Gale paused in his step up into the combine, brows knitted in surprise and she noticed along with him that their little march had drawn quite a little audience from the fellow inmates. Females in a Stalag -what a novelty. “Yeah, John’s fine. He’s fit.” Gale still had that quizzical look on his face.

Ida swallowed hard and gave him another curt nod, one she wanted to come across as grateful but wasn’t sure it did, her battered cheek was responding less and less to her mind’s commands. “Right. This us?”

“Yeah. Figured we’d try to keep as many close as possible.” He explained, “Welcome to paradise.”

“What did y’all name this shack?” Maureen asked him as she stepped over the threshold, it was dark inside and smelled of lumber and smoke.

“We haven’t.” Gale admitted, forlorn at the realization that things like that didn’t occur to people like him. If Bucky had been here, he’d have had it named in an hour, and something awful, too. Something that would make them all laugh.

“Damn oversight, Gingerale.” Maureen teased merrily but Cleven noticed the dimming light in her eyes as she took in the cramped, uninspired utility of the place. One wooden doorway after another.

“Talked it over with Colonel Clark during your processing,” Gale said, “decided it were best if we mingle you all among the men we know. Boys from your squadrons, friendly faces. A few of you in each room.”

“I call dibs on yours.” Maureen unabashedly grinned up at Cleven but Ida saw how a heartbroken look of protectiveness skittered across his features.

“Alright.” he muttered without a fight for once.

“Mm, Smith, Sanchez, Tong, you in here.” Ida decided and having snapped her fingers she was moving on to the next stuffy room. Asking Cleven at each about their current occupants, and with the precision of memory required of a woman who had to memorize her opponents on the promotional ladder, chose their new bunk mates accordingly.

“And where’s Johnny bunked?” she asked him in a low tone as she watched the next set settle in from the doorway.

“In with me, further down the hall, Demarco, Hambone, a few others.”

Ida seemed to hesitate as she eyed up an extra bunk in the current room that the last of her girls were settling into.

“Don’t be a stick, colonel,” Maureen spoke up gently, a surprising liberty even for her, “you need friends right now. Bunk with us. Everyone’s going to be fine. Can’t be all places at all times, ya know?”

Ida didn’t reply but after a moment she admitted, “I should go see John.”

Gale and Maureen exchanged a look and then moved in unison to catch up to her as Ida Brady walked, brisk as if she were back home at Thorpe and about to pick a fight with Jack Kidd, down the long hall to one of the last rooms. “In here?” she asked Gale, pointing at the closed door -they liked to keep it so for warmth and privacy, and to acclimate the guards to it being closed when the radio was out.

“Yeah that’s us.” Cleven replied, reaching out and snagging Maureen back a step as Ida turned the handle. “Let’s give ‘em a minute.” he suggested, referring to the Bradys.

He held her jacket sleeve for a brief moment before turning it to grab her hand, he’d missed those hands. To his horror their usual calloused elegance was a swollen paw of bruises. “The hell, Maureen?” he whispered in shock, turning it over to examine it, grip strong around her wrist before she could pull away. “Who did this?”

Maureen did her best to shrug, “Some bitch stood on them.” she said simply, and surrendered the other hand for a similar heartbroken inspection.

Kendeigh was indeed not as visibly marred as Ida Brady or a few of the others, but still, Gale kept turning her crushed hands over and over, recalling with vivid agony the way he’d admired them at all manner of work before. To hurt them that way, to restrain her so meanly- “Maureen,” she’d never heard his voice dip so low, and his eyes were simmering where they cataloged her hurts, “what’d they do to you?”

“What’d they do to your face?” she shot back, perhaps more perturbed by the immaculately symmetrical scars on his once porcelain face than her own condition. Women expected the treatment they’d gotten, in some twisted way, but this on the other hand, it disturbed her.

Gale looked taken aback by her question and quickly dropped her hand to touch his right cheek as if to remind himself the scar was obvious to everyone. “Flak.” he replied a beat too late.

“Awfully precise.” she snarked.

“I asked you first.”

“I told you, a bitch stood on them.”

“I’m your superior officer.”

“Who it looks like someone had some fun with,” Maureen snapped back, “who did this?”

“What happened to you?” He hit right back but his voice quavered.

“I’m fine now. I wanna go see the boys. Come on.”

“Just- give them another minute.” Gale insisted, pulling her back away from the doorway again, “It’s a lot.” He reminded, “For a brother to see his sister like -that.”

Maureen couldn’t argue with that, besides Gale looked so sad and more fragile than she’d ever seen him, and the gentle hold he had on her jacket was as needy and scared as a child’s. “I’m glad we’re in this together.” she whispered.

“Me too.” he admitted, guilty and sad over how true that was before letting her press her lips to his.

Ida Brady didn’t know what she expected when she opened the door, not much she supposed, just a living brother with any luck. It was a decently tidy room, plates stacked on a rough hewn board at the far end, eight bunks lining the walls, stacked three tall. A table was in the middle and there sat dear old Crank and Hambone too, Murph with Benny. A card game was ongoing.

They looked so fine, quite normal, all in all.

All motion in the small room stopped upon her entrance. Cards were dropped and cigarettes forgotten in open mouthed shock.

“Holy shit -colonel?” Demarco didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body, and his disbelieving horror over her appearance came through loud and clear in his greeting. She hadn’t seen him at the gate.

The same for Hambone’s face, one that had never bothered to be discreet in pleasant circumstances, much less in shocking ones like seeing a notorious superior officer come in looking about as battered as a body could get -although his torn cheek was one to talk. Crank recovered first, in his mild, stammering sort of way, glancing at the lean figure who still stood looking out the lone window.

“Well, if it isn’t Ain’t Pretty Brady.” Crank clapped uneasily, summoning her nickname from basic just to cut the tension, it served to startle John.

He turned from the window abruptly, blank faced and unblinking as he realized the sister he had been watching for had already arrived. If their ole nan from the motherland had suddenly materialized before him he could have hardly looked more haunted or aghast, wide fringed fox eyes and that straight fold of a mouth -always so very held together, her little brother. Even after his third belly landing.

But those startled unblinking eyes...

Ida wanted to tell him to blink, that it was all alright now, that they were both alive and that it was good enough, it had to be. But she seemed to have fully lost all power over her throbbing cheek at last, she could feel her lips move in a motion she realized with supreme panic was likely a wobble of emotion. She ripped her aviators off, as if seeing her eyes might help his to come alive.

“John John?��� she croaked in greeting, oblivious of the childish endearment tumbling off her lips in a room full of soldiers. If it were something their family was in the habit of doing, Ida Brady might have rushed him like Maureen did her pilot, or held out her own hand to be held, asked for a gesture from him -after what she’d gone through, surely it couldn’t have been weakness to want a clap on the shoulder, a flick to the bicep, a little “well done” for staying alive.

But she just stood there and watched him clock her shame. She could feel her swollen lip splitting in real time as the swelling and incessant trembling tore the taut skin apart, they’d passed around a single canteen in processing and it wasn’t enough, the walls of her throat felt collapsed together. Maybe she should have asked for a mirror first, maybe Cleven or Kendeigh or Smith should have told her she’d bring a whole room to a frozen standstill by her looks alone. They’d seen her at the gate -were these meager lightbulbs really so much more illuminating?

“Eye-eye.” Johnny let it out in a breathy rush as if he’d suddenly come to, and then he was in front of her, hands cradling the sides of her neck, thumbs hooked gently under her bruised jaw. A calloused pad swiped away the ticklish trickle of blood sliding the crease of her mouth.

Eye eye -his onetime baby babble for Ida, and she’d never let him forget it.

She could have wept at the useless sentimentality of it, of the gentle familiarity of familial hands, at the seething loyalty storming across his face.

“The fuck did they do?” he articulated at last, voice gravelly as shit but also reminiscent of the squeaky olden days when his castrato role suddenly no longer served one Sunday in choir.

“You’ve got legs.” she answered instead, sounding maniacal in her happiness.

He looked at her like she’d gone fully crazy as well as beat, “Yeah? Yeah I do.”

“They said, they said you didn’t.” she chuckled, a bizarre merriment trying to take hold in her relief, “During interrogation, that bespectacled cunt told me you had your legs crushed when you crashed.”

“No? No- no I jumped.” He insisted, then let go of her face to step back and gesture to two fit legs, as long and lanky as she remembered, as long and lanky as her own. “I jumped, I’m fine. They told you that?”

“Yeah.” Ida said, “Told me the longer I didn’t comply the longer you were without medical attention. I -I’ve been so…uneasy…about you.”

“I’m fine.” He repeated, hands back on her shoulders and she was grateful for it despite the bruises he was gripping, grateful for the way he kept touching her like he was going to hold her together with his own two hands, same blood, same flesh, same memories, maybe whatever she’d lost he could supply back like a blood donation. “Those sons of bitches.” he cursed them.

“Plasma for planes.” she agreed.

He kept looking at her, at her cheek and at her ragged hair and at the missing buttons, “You didn’t tell them anything did you?” he suddenly asked, wide eyed. “You know i’d rather die than have you tell.”

Ida scoffed, and gave him a grin, the best one she could manage with her cheek and split lip, “What do you take me for, Johnny?”

“A cold hearted bitch, I hope.” he returned the small smile but his voice cracked, still that hint of something long gone and juvenile.

“That’s what their Lieutenant called me.” Ida confirmed, a little proud, and sensing a renewal of his inquiries, Ida chose to take the offensive and call out for a conspicuously absent Kendeigh, “Candy! Didn’t you want to tell Johnny about your charming admirer? The Lieutenant?”

Kendeigh came round the doorway hastily, her lips puffy and cheeks oddly red. Cleven followed after and matched her, and his blush did nothing but highlight those scars of his. “Brady.” Maureen greeted, boldly hugging Ida’s very stiff brother without care —due to his red cheeks and rigid shoulders Ida concluded Cleven had given his own inner-relations talk to the men—, “Yes, I wanted to -oh hello Crank, Benny you son of gun- wanted to tell y'all about my ticket outta here -hell Hambone, how’d you manage to get uglier? -see my integrator, he found me fairly fetching. I think one of these days he’s gonna roll up in his shiny car and take me away from here and you’re all gonna wish you’d taken time to learn a little know-how about Alligators and their hibernation tactics in the winter. He was enthralled.”

There was an awkward silence hanging in the room, Crank grimaced a smile out of sheer generosity of heart and Benny Demarco still sat with his cigarette neglected on his open lip. Cleven, used to her preening brazness kept a tight lip, though a thousand questions seemed to swirl in his eyes.

“He the one who stood on your hands?” John Brady asked her without hesitancy.

Maureen whirled round then, comedy hour over and an angry flush creeping up her neck at his directness. “No.” she snapped. “Can’t some of them be alright?”

“A German’s a German.” he countered.

“There’s Fitzs and then there’s Johanns.” she disagreed nebulously and only Ida got her reference.

“And a shower is a shower,” Ida butted in before this became an experiment in an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force “which we need, badly. We’re…filthy.”

“We’ve got working sinks, trough sinks.” Cleven clarified with an apologetic look as if it were his fault the showers only ran once a week and poorly at that, and the water they had was frigid already in autumn.

“Water is water.” Ida reasoned in return, wondering when Johnny was going to finally let go of her arm.

“We’ll clear it out for ya.” Cleven said.

“And we’ll guard the entrance.” John added emphatically.

“Thanks.” Ida muttured, “Some of us could use to mend our uniforms.” she added, refusing to blanch at the subtle inventory of her jagged tears and crusted blood being made by every man in the room.

Maureen at least had her jacket intact. Her cap, too.

“Here, you can have my trousers while I stitch yours.” her John decided and was unbuckling his belt before she even registered the hand gone from her shoulder.

“What?” Ida balked, “You’re going to go ‘round in your skivvies?”

“Not as uncommon around here as you’d think, Ida.” Gale said, a small smile on his face. “I’m afraid order and decorum has gone to shit without you.”

“Well I’m here now.” she replied sternly but didn’t stop Johnny as he stripped.

“And so am I.” Kendeigh grinned and all Ida could do was to bless the saints for having let only one terror into the camp, were Bucky Egan to be here too, things would become intolerably lax. As soon as she thought it she repented it, sending up a prayer for the poor, absent bastard.

“Say Benny, you’re shorter, can I have your pants?” Maureen pleaded.

“Why mine?” Demarco protested, only offended at the height implication.

“Because Cleven’s too tall and I’ve already been in his pants.”

“Maureen!”

“Ida, order somebody to give me their pants.”

“You can have mine.” Crank offered kindly, and then stood up and bashfully began to unlayer. It left him in skivvies, a snuggly sweater and his flight jacket.

“It’s a good look, Crank,” Maureen grinned at the finished product as he handed the trousers over. “I’m seeing you in a different light.”

“Maureen!”

“Just sayin-“

“Take the pants with you to the washroom!” Brady interjected desperately as Maureen looked ready to strip right here and now. “Jesus, Kendeigh.”

“Touchy, touchy.” Maureen ribbed him, out for blood in her tired state and if she couldn’t have that of the Germans she would of her friends’.

“Alright let’s - let’s settle down.” Gale implored, a tired expression firmly etched onto his face and Ida herself considered giving up on the wash altogether and tumbling into the available bunk to court the oblivion of sleep. Were it only blood and dirt she just might, her usual tidiness be damned.

As it was -it was, there was…the filth was so much worse.

And if Ida thought on it too long she’d go mad and want to pour boiling lye on herself to wash herself clean and to kill the shame of it. She’d have to scrub the pants before she gave them to Johnny to be mended, it was bad enough for a brother to see the blood and busted seams.

“Yes, settle down for God’s sake.” she echoed Cleven, and something about her hoarse voice compelled Maureen to temper herself more than any direct order could. “A wash, come on, let’s get the girls. Oh and one more thing, Cleven-“ Ida turned to Gale and found him alert, eager to help. She was afraid she was only setting him up for failure but she had to make an effort to find those “remedies” she’d promised Sanchez. “There any lemons around?”

The incredulous look on his face suggested he thought she knew better, but he was ever polite in his reply, “No, colonel. No lemons.”

“Mm. Nutmeg?” she tried to recall each wicked trick she’d heard condemned when a girl got herself in the family way without the needed family in place.

“No, no nutmeg.”

“Mm.”

“Nothing but potatoes and cigarettes, ma’am. Do you- why?” he asked.

“Nothing.” she assured, “Just, a hot toddy sounds good right about now. You know?”

“Uh,” he floundered, half in suspicion and half in genuine confusion, “never had one.”

“Well then,” she grinned as she passed him, “that’s something to add to our to-do list for when this is all over. Jameson, though, none of that Kentucky stuff.”

“Yes ma’am.” his tone was vacant, smiling concern brittle, “You uh, you alright, Colonel?”

Ida gave him a withering look and then Gale too, had cause to be repentant.

“Come on Kendeigh, let's get the rest.” Ida gestured as she followed Gale back into the hall, aware of Johnny’s eyes still on her, still taking stock, “They better not be in bunks without a wash. Come on, showers, everyone! Out, come on out. You can sleep afterwards. Out! Would one of you be so kind as to wake us up in time for roll call?” she inquired of the male officers straggling behind her in the hall.

“Course! Yeah, for sure.” about five offers went up.

“You wake Me up.” she clarified coming to a full stop, wary of the enthusiasm, “I’ll wake up the rest.”

“I’ll get you up.” Her John said.

He’d probably sit and watch her sleep, too, needle and torn pants in hand, like a creepy little owl but that was one of those things she figured make or break a family, you either find it endearing you have a brother who rarely blinks or you go mad. Today, after all of it, she didn’t mind having a guardian Angel. Or a watchdog. Speaking of-

“Hey,” she asked him, “you two flew out together, where’s Bucky?”

But no one had an answer for that, not even Little John.

💋Hope you enjoyed AND REMEMBER -prompts are now open.

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#masters of the air #mota #mota fanfic #mota oc #Intergrated au #those who can #john egan #john brady #gale cleven #benny demarco #gale cleven x oc #john egan x oc #john brady x oc #Maureen Kendeigh #Ida Brady #Tallulah Smith

[httpsobi]

YOU...YOU CAN DO THAT? “a spider-reader x team"

WARNINGS/TAGS + sfw, they/them (gender neutral) reader addressed as spider cause if you can't tell i'm very creative, inspired by miles morales spiderman cause hes my fav, no beta we die like aunts and uncles in spiderman movies/comics, canon-typical violence (not heavily detailed).

A/N + to the anon who requested this nearly a year ago, i'm so sorry pookie the writer block put me in a author coma of sorts. despite this being a year late and trash, i hope you enjoy regardless, and i'm hoping to get more active with my writing again! enjoyyyyyy!

REQUEST + "Oops here I am again (the same anon who requested a reader with spider like abilities).. I forgot to specify 😭 but like maybe could you do idk a first meeting between the YJ and the reader (they/them btw)? Would they be creeped out with the readers' abilities or would it go like 'oh wooooow. Show us how it works!'?"

KF & AQ "Kid!" Kid Flash turns to Spider as he sprints across the buildings adjacent to them. They struggle to match his pace, but as he slows to stick his landing, they manage to catch up and yell at a simple instruction that nearly has him freezing in his tracks out of horror.

"Jump!"

"What?" They flinch at the loud screech that pierces through their earpiece. "No way- are you crazy?!"

"Just-"

Their eyes widen as they watch the monster they've been trying to lead away from the populated city centre leaps into the air behind him.

"-do it!"

Kid Flash hesitates for a moment, they can see it on his face, ready to ignore their request when the creature lets out a rumbling roar.

The ground shakes under his feet as the monstrous thing lands on the building behind him and his face drops into a comical expression.

He spares it a glance over his shoulder, and with its claws reaching out from him, he takes the leap, narrowly avoiding the sharp nails, but as he flails around in the air, weightless, he wonders-

does he really prefer concrete over nails?

He shuts his eyes, readying himself from an impact that- never comes. Rather, there's something sticking to his stomach before he's being yanked to the side, and then- up.

Instead of the smack of concrete, he hits a person, their arms wrapped around him as they roll both of them through the force.

Kid Flash, finally, shoots up and opens his eyes.

Spider and Kid Flash are sat on their asses with matching shellshocked looks, staring down at the building across of them, where that beast shares a similarly confused look as it watches the street below them.

The two turn to blink at each other, shuffling to their feet as they let out joyous cheers that sound almost like screams (poor Kaldur's ears can testify), arms wrapped around each other as they jump with like two middle aged men who's football team just scored the final point.

"Dude, we did that!"

"Right?! I thought I was gonna fall to my death but then you just-!"

"I didn't even know how I did that! It was sheer animal instinct-"

Needless to say, Kaldur was less than happy, and no more "jumping-off-the-building-and-praying" was permitted or attempted. 

Not around Kaldur anyway.

ART & SUP Superboy fails to punch through it, the cage simply folding and stretching around his fist before it pushes him, his shoulder bumping into Artemis'.

"Are we stuck in here until Robin gets back?" Artemis asks with a irritated sigh, turning to look at Spider.

They seem mystified, a mischievous glint in their eyes that she can make out through the big cartoonish eyes of the mask as they take in the strange cage.

Their hands press against the cage, palm flat as they give it a little experimental shove before she can make out their eyebrows rising.

Their palms start to spark, and the red hue of the cage begins to light up a pale blue, "Nope."

The crackles of electricity grow louder and Artemis and Superboy step back just as an awful cracking sounds and-

The cage bursts around them, Spider's sent flying back into Artemis, who's then sent back into Superboy and the three hit the floor with matching grunts.

There's a moment of silence, before Artemis is shoving Spider off of her and rolling off of Superboy herself. As the three sit themselves up slowly, Artemis can make out Spider nodding to themselves with what she thinks is pride.

"I didn't know you could do that." Superboy comments plainly as the three slowly get back to their feet.

Blinking at him, Spider wiggles their fingers at him with a smile.

"Me neither."

MG & ROB With a grunt, Robin sits up with a grimace, hand on his head as his eyes readjusts when he manages to make out Bane stood just in his eye-line.

Bane isn't looking at him though, instead the man's eyes are trained on Miss Martian floating in the air, hands outstretched out in front of her.

She's clearly too busy managing her telekinesis to notice the hulking man anger as he grabs onto one of the many large pieces of machinery lying around the abandoned factory and prepares to ambush her. 

Miss Martian, watch out!

Robin's voice rings out in her head, and M'gann whips around, eyes landing on Bane.

Before either of them can react, something is suddenly flying through the air and with a loud thwack- Bane is lying on the floor, looking a lot less angry and unconscious. Now up on his feet, Robin slowly approaches Bane, M'gann landing on his side as the pair blink down at whatever hit him.

Upon inspection, it's the barrel tank that those cement trucks carry. Empty, sure, but Robin's not surprised that guy was put to bed.

What's more surprising?

"Woooo, my aim's getting good, no?" Spider grins, bouncing on their feet as they approach the two.

"You... you threw that?" Miss Martian asks carefully.

"Duh, who else?"

"Oh. Well, thank you." She offers, a little dumbfounded but Spider doesn't seem to notice.

"How?" Spider blinks at Robin, who's been silently gawking at them as they approach.

"What do you mean, 'how'? I just threw it. "

Robin sputters at them, left eye twitching under his mask as he watches them stretch their arms out over their head with no care in the world.

"That's not- that's impossible?"

"Nuh, uh! Just grab, do a couple spins to get some speed and let go- works pretty well."

"I don't believe you."

"Why not?! I'm plenty strong!"

Safe to say that Robin made them perform a couple of strength tests when they got back to the cave, and now Robin's worried Spider might not be aware of the fact that most people can't just throw around cement trucks.

all work n' writing is work of @httpsobi. i ask you please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post on other platforms without my consent.

#httpsobi's work #young justice dc #young justice #young justice headcanons #young justice imagines #young justice x reader #reader x young justice #oc x young justice #young justice reader #young justice oc #dc #dc x reader #dc comic x reader

[random0lover]

Hello !! Am I allowed to request for maybe all of 141 (If possible with your schedule !! I undestand if its not !!) or just Price and Ghost (separate) with a reader whos a military kid so theyre kinda just used to them going away for long periods of time with deployment. Bonus points if they werent aware of reader being a military kid till they break down and confess as to how abandoned and angry they feel when they leave :,)) Fluffy Hurt/Comfort thats SFW, please :)) Thank you ^^

TF141 x Gn!Reader That Was a Military Kid

Pairings: John Price x gn!reader & Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x gn!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Angst with Comfort, SFW, reader is mean, talk of parental death, crying, reader is called: sweetheart, love, dove. Hints at depression, John and Simon are both big softies for reader, established relationships. That should be it! Let me know if I missed any <3

Things to know: Some hc’s with mini fic parts. Should be Gn!reader as I tried to avoid talking about readers body or anything that could indicate anything other than gn!reader! Also POC friendly! If you notice anything that makes you feel otherwise please let me know! I never want anyone to feel excluded with/in my work ♡, Also a warning to anyone that decides to follow me- if you do not have your age in your bio or a pinned post I will block you… just a fair warning.

Notes: Thank you for requesting this anon! I loved the idea so much so I hope this does your request justice! I kinda went a little soft with the Price one because for some reason I can’t stand the thought of reader being mean to that sweet man (if you want though send me another request and I can write one that’s more angst filled 😊) although I did bring out the reader being angry in Simons. Another thing, I wrote this for Simon and not ghost but if you want I can write another one that has reader dealing with Ghost but be warned it will be angsty with lots of hurt from both parties! Sorry if the editing is bad I did try though lol and there will be more parts to this!

Tags: @homicidal-slvt (promised I’d tag you so here we are)

Price & Simon (You’re here!), Soap & Gaz, Alejandro, Rudy & König

(I will add the links as I post each part!)

John Price

-I feel like he may have wondered if you were a military kid since you didn’t seem to be phased by him having to leave so often

-There were other things that also made him wonder, like how you always made your bed in the mornings, how schedules were majorly important to you to the point that if you knew you were going to be late, you'd get majorly upset, and how you also seemed to understand military lingo up to a certain point. He never asked though since you didn’t talk about your childhood much so he just figured that if you wanted to tell him that you would -But he started to notice that lately, you started to seem off when you found out he would have to be deployed soon.

~~

John had been awake since the early hours of the morning. He couldn't seem to get much sleep in the few days before his next deployment. He had left the warmth of your shared bed before even the morning birds could be heard outside, hoping not to wake you with his restlessness, but little did he know that you hadn't slept at all.

By the time you stumbled out of bed with bags under your eyes and your mind feeling exhausted from the lack of sleep and your own brain tearing itself apart, it was well past 10 a.m., which wasn’t the most unusual for you, but on the day before John would be deploying it was a little odd since usually you were up trying to help him get his stuff together and would make a huge breakfast since you both weren’t sure how long it would be until he would get to enjoy a home-cooked meal again.

You had hoped to get to the kitchen and make yourself a cup of coffee before seeing John, but he was standing at the fridge, putting groceries away from multiple brown paper bags.

You made your way to the coffee pot that seemed to have a fresh pot being made and got a cup from the cabinet before he started to talk, “I noticed we were getting low on some things so I thought I’d save you a trip to—,” he pauses, causing you to turn to face him, “Sweetheart?”

You were pressing your hands into your eyes, trying to relieve the aching pressure that was remaining consistent behind them, when he made his way across the kitchen and gently cupped your cheeks, “Are you feeling alright, love?”

You didn’t mean to do it, but you flinched away from his hands, taking a few steps back so that there was some distance between you both. You could see the hurt in his eyes before they were overcome with confusion and you hated that he was looking at you as if you were a skittish kitten that would run at the smallest movement.

He reaches an arm out slowly, as if to not startle you.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, pulling your arms tight around you, and try to focus on keeping your breathing calm, like your parents taught you when you were little.

He takes a small step forward so that his fingers are almost grazing your arm but stops when sees you curling in on yourself, “Sweetheart, something is obviously wrong. You're crying, and your body is shaking.”

“Hey,” you finally look up into his eyes, “you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but at least let me help you.”

Your heart breaks from the pain you can see in his eyes. In all the time you've been together, you’ve never pulled away from him like this. Usually, you were the one open about your emotions and what you were feeling while having to coax John into telling you what was going on in his mind, “Please, darling.”

You let yourself fall into his open arms at that point, sobbing into his neck. He presses you against his chest, gently speaking into your ear, assuring you that everything is fine, that he is here for you, and that he will always be there.

You mumble into his neck, causing him to gently pull you back so that he can hear you: “What was that, sweetheart?”

You try to concentrate on the sensation of his calm heartbeat against your chest before finally saying, "My parents promised me the same thing."

He pulls away, puzzled, and you notice him looking at you in the corner of your eye, so you burrow your face into his chest and say, "They were both military. They died when I was 14," you finish, taking a deep breath. “They were deployed together when it happened… They said that it was an accident, that my mom got stuck on a timed land mine, and my dad wouldn’t leave her no matter what.”

"Oh, love." You feel his body tense before relaxing.

He gently grips the back of your neck and pulls you back so that you're looking into his eyes; the softness in them is almost enough to send you running as far as possible so that you never have to feel the type of pain that you did the day that you found out your parents died.

“Love, I'm not going anywhere,” you go to speak but he shushes you, “You are my world, the person I’m fighting for.”

He brings his hand under your chin so that he is gripping it gently and says, “You are the reason I’m still alive. The reason why I feel like life is still worth living and fighting for.”

He tips his head down so that his lips are grazing yours, “I’ll always come home, love.”

You push forward so that your lips are fully pressing against his, then he pulls back, “Why don’t we go take a bath, get you feeling better?”

~~~~

The next morning you wake frantically looking around, hoping that he didn’t leave without saying goodbye, when he walks in carrying a tray of food, “John? I thought you had to leave this morning.”

He smiles gently, his eyes lighting up, “Called Kate, they don’t actually need me for another week, and I figured my love needs me a little bit more than my job at the moment.” He sets the tray down on the bed, and you jump into his arms with a happy squeal, “I love you, John.”

"I love you too, sweetheart," he says as he gently kisses you.

~

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

-So we all know Simon is amazing at reading people, but I don’t think he would know that you were a military kid. He could see all the signs that you may have had a difficult childhood, but he personally knows what it’s like to have a childhood you don’t want to talk about, so he never has and never will question you about your past. -Pasts are a hard topic for Simon in the first place, so I could honestly see him being a bit grateful that you didn’t share the bad parts of your childhood, meaning that he also didn’t have to share his. It was almost a silent agreement between you both to not talk about the negative parts of things unless one of you came to the other wanting to talk about it.

~~~~

Back to him being great at reading people: He could tell that over the past few days, your body language had been changing, becoming more standoffish. Not being as open to cuddling and kisses, not even wanting him to walk up behind you and wrap his arms around you, which you usually loved.

He figured that maybe you were just having a few rough days, which was normal for anyone; hell, he knew he had them quite often, and you were always there for him no matter how bad they got, so he wanted to do the same for you.

Today had been the worst day of all, though. You were almost refusing to talk to him completely unless it was one-word answers, which he was able to roll with pretty easily. You would move rooms almost every time he would come in, not even saying anything, just picking up your things and going.

This made him decide on leaving you alone for the most part, other than when he would bring you a fresh cup of tea or was just checking in on you. So he decided on cleaning up the house a little bit, he was going to be deploying again in a week and he wanted to help however he could, knowing that it was a rough transition from having him around to it being an empty house again.

He had just finished cleaning the dishes when he looked at the time and decided on ordering out for dinner, which would hopefully raise your mood a bit and it would also be an easy enough mess to clean up. He found you in the living room watching a movie on Netflix with a blanket wrapped tightly around you and stood in the doorway for a moment just admiring you when you paused it.

When you snap at him, "What do you want, Simon?" Your eyes aren't even on him but on your phone, which is on your lap.

He feels his eye twitch but he keeps himself calm and makes sure that it shows in his tone that your attitude is leaving him unaffected, “I was just goin’ to ask what you wanted for takeout, love.”

You huff and try to pull yourself up from the couch while also trying to unwrap the blanket from around you, almost falling, but Simon rushes forward and straightens you up, but you quickly pull away.

You look at him with fury in your eyes, “Can't you just leave me the hell alone?” Your voice is rising slightly, and your face is flushed with rage. “It’s what you constantly do anyway!”

You can see Simon's eyes widen, but you don't care; the words are just spilling out of your mouth before you can stop them, "You're never actually here when I need you, but when you are, you can't take the fucking hint of when I just want you to leave me alone!"

"Sometimes Simon," you pause, feeling the tears flood into your vision, making the floor blurry, "I wonder why I even stay when you are just going to end up hurting me exactly like he did," you whisper, staring hard at the ground, your chest puffing in and out quickly, trying to pull in air after your large outburst.

The words come out in a whisper, the room becoming so silent that you can almost hear the gears in his head turning, wondering who the hell you were talking about.

You hear him take a step forward on the wood flooring, his voice incredibly soft, “Dove.”

You look up through the tears and see his hands reaching out for you, and for the first time in all the time you two have been together, Simon Riley almost looks scared—not scared of you but as if his world was coming apart.

When his hand gently touches your arm, it pulls you out of your stupor, making you pull away, frantically shaking your head, “Don’t touch me.”

The words come out shaky and broken, but they make him freeze nonetheless, and you can see in his eyes that he’s trying to pull himself together, trying to figure out what he's supposed to do in a situation like this.

He takes a small step back, his gaze fixed on yours, and he holds his hands out in front of him, as if to demonstrate that he is not a threat. "Okay, I won't touch you." He comes to a halt, seeing the fear in your eyes, the look of a frightened animal ready to flee at any moment. "It's okay, love, everything's fine-"

He doesn't even finish his sentence before you're flying down the hallway, grabbing your bag from the hooks by the front door and bolting out the door, slamming it loudly behind you, leaving him standing halfway down the hallway, his mouth slack-jawed, unsure of what the hell just happened.

~~~

After nearly ten minutes of fast walking, you finally slowed down and stopped in the nearest store to clean your face of tear marks and, hopefully, make yourself look presentable. You sent a quick text to Simon, letting him know that you were safe and that you didn't know when you'd be back. You left your phone on long enough to see him read the message and the text bubble pop up before you shut the phone completely off and tucked it into the bottom of your bag.

You spent the next two hours wandering aimlessly, wondering if you'd just ruined your relationship with the only man you'll ever love, when you came across the small Italian restaurant where Simon had taken you on your first date. You remember the way you tried to pay for your half of the dinner, but he quickly slipped his card to the waitress before you could even argue, saying something about how if you decided not to go on a second date with him, you deserved to at least get a free meal from it, and you teased him by asking him if there was a reason you shouldn't want to go on another date with him.

The memories make your stomach queasy, making you want to kick yourself in the back for being so stupid, but you walk in and order your and Simon's favorite dishes and try to keep the food as warm as possible on your walk back to your shared home. One side of you hopes you’ll find him there, not an empty house, and the other side wants to avoid this conversation for as long as possible.

You walk up the steps, and most of the house seems to be dark except for the living room, where a single light is on. You unlock the door and try as quietly as possible to slip your shoes off while also trying not to drop the food.

You make your way towards the living room to find Simon sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees, and his face buried in his hands. You look over to the coffee table and see bags with your favorite restaurant's logo tied off, trying to keep the heat in the bags, making your heart ache with the fact that he still thought of you after you treated him like complete trash.

He was the first man ever to treat you with so much love. Even while he was deployed, he was making efforts to show you that he cared, like scheduling a delivery of your favorite flowers to show up on your day off with a little note, paying for over a month's worth of your order at your favorite coffee shop, and bringing back little trinkets from the places he was deployed too.

You knew him being deployed wasn’t his fault; it was part of his job. You knew he wasn't your dad and that it wasn't Simon’s fault that the man who was supposed to love you treated you as if you weren't even his child but rather just another one of his soldiers.

It wasn’t his fault that your dad wouldn't be home for months on end; it wasn’t his fault that the last time you ever saw your dad, you told him you hated him for never being home; it wasn't his fault that the day your dad was supposed to come home from a four-month deployment, instead of hearing him come home, there were four hard knocks on the door; it wasn't his fault that two soldiers were standing at the door; it wasn’t his fault that they were holding a folded-up flag with your dad’s military dog tags on them.

It. Wasn’t. His. Fault.

Yet you treated him as if it were. You didn't know which was worse, the fact that he didn't already know about what happened to your dad or the fact that you wished he did so that he could have a reason to hate you for lashing out.

You step into the room, setting the food you got by the food he ordered. “Simon?”

He doesn’t move for a second, then he looks up at you, and you feel your heart shatter for the umpteenth time tonight. “Oh, Simon,” you whisper, moving so that you’re standing in front of him and drop down onto your knees, “I am so fucking sorry. I don't even have the words to tell you how sorry I am. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you… I should’ve just talked to you instead of letting it build up.”

You move your hands up to gently cradle his face in both your hands and connect your eyes with his molten ones, which usually provided you with comfort. Now, though, all you can see is the look he gave you after you yelled at him, “I— I never should have let my feelings bottle up about me being upset about you having to be gone. I know it's not your fault. I knew what I was getting myself into when we made things official all those years ago. I knew what your job would bring before then; I made the choice to be with you. I'll never regret that.’’

You move your eyes across his face, trying to gauge his emotions, but you get nothing.

“Si, baby?” you whisper.

His eyes move away from you. “Who were you talking about when you said I'm just going to hurt you like he did?’’

You look away, your eyes settling on a loose string on his pants. “I was talking about my dad.” You take a deep breath before continuing, knowing that you have to tell him, “H– He was military like you.”

His hand reaches out to gently lift your chin, bringing your gaze to his. “He died,” you continue, “He died and the last time I ever saw him, I told him I hated him because he was always gone. He…I let him go that day without saying goodbye or telling him I loved him, and the next time I saw him, his body was in a casket."

"Love," he says with a gentle frown.

"No, Simon," you say, shaking your head. Just because I’m scared—no, fucking terrified—of that happening again with you doesn't give me the right to treat you that way. I am so sorry.”

He leans back in the couch and pulls you up into his lap; once you're comfortable, he brings his hands up so that one is cupping your cheek and the other trails down your arm to hold your hand. "Dove, I know what it's like to lose family. I know what it can do to you. I understand that pain more than you know. Pain like that is unlike anything else.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you blink them away quickly before they fall. "You've lost family, too?"

He nods gently, and you can see deep emotions that seemed to have been buried for a long time beginning to surface. “My mum, my younger brother Tommy, and his wife Beth.” He closes his eyes, and when he opens them, they are filled with unshed tears. “My nephew Joseph.”

You can feel the back of your throat starting to burn from keeping your tears in, but you push your forehead against his anyway. “Simon.”

He looks into your eyes before whispering, “I wish I could tell you it would stop hurting eventually, but I can’t. I’m not going to lie to you and say I’ll always make it back home to you; that's not something I can guarantee, but one thing I can promise is that I will always try my damn hardest to make it back. I will always fight with everything in my soul to make it back to you.”

Tears are softly running down your face at this point, falling to land on Simon’s hoodie. “I love you so much, sweets. I never want to lose you.”

You let out a choked cry before you kissed him gingerly, and you could taste the saltiness of your tears mixed in with all the flavors that reminded you of Simon. Of home.

“I love you so much too, Si.”

He leans in to kiss you again with a light press of his lips to yours before he pulls away and looks at the forgotten food on the coffee table and lets out a light chuckle, “I see we both had the same idea.”

You let out a shaky laugh and nod your head before snuggling your head into the warm crook of his neck. He runs a large hand up and down your back, slowly stopping at the bottom to rub gentle circles into a spot that usually bothers you. "Well, why don’t we eat, and maybe in the morning we can talk a little bit more.”

Yawning into his neck, you pull back and ask, “Can we finish the movie I was watching earlier? It was just getting to the good part before I stopped it.”

He nods, and you excitedly get out of his lap to get your blanket and the TV remote before he pulls the coffee table closer to the couch so that he can start opening the containers. Once you start the movie, you look over to Simon to find him already watching you with a soft look, and all you can think is how thankful you are to have found a man who loves you through all your faults and you through his.

You were grateful for ever getting the chance to be loved by Simon Riley, a man who truly believed that he couldn’t love and that he wasn’t worth loving. You knew that it would probably take your whole lives to heal from the things you've both been through, but as long as you were together, that was all that mattered.

Hi my lovelies, I hope you enjoyed this hc for Price and Simon! Feedback is appreciated but not necessary. As always I hope you have a great day/night. <3

Requests are open so feel free to send in some! I cannot promise when or if I will write them, but I do prefer requests that are slightly more specific as I find them easier to write but it's not required. Thanks for reading my darlings! ♡

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[anki-of-beleriand]

Bad Liar ch.8

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers

Warnings: Slow burn - slightly Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - idiots in love - homophobia - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: Here is a new chapter and Reader and Wanda are getting closer, Reader puts an end to her confusion and the past is at Rader's doorstep.

As always, English is no my mother tongue, so please forgive the grammar, spelling and funny mistakes!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 8

Breaking the past

The sun had a way to sneak inside her room, the light rays of light projecting hues of colour with a welcoming warmth that soothed her to sleep again. The memories of childhood days spent in bed, trying to sleep in before being taken away from the comfort of her bed and made to be an avid participant in the house chores. Wanda fluttered her eyes open to see the time gleaming from the digital clock in her bedside table. 

9 am. 

She smiled knowing the twins must be asleep as well, Saturdays had become one her favourite days of the week. It was a time in which she could spend time with her children, she was able to read and to paint, to do all the things she had denied herself for too long. But that particular morning, her smile was brighter, and the fluttering butterflies at the pit of her stomach were a memory of your words the night before. 

I was hoping you would come to my place and we could have lunch together. 

Wanda felt a tug on her heart, she closed her eyes for a brief moment only to see your smile from the night before. She never imagined that spending time with you would result in her having so much time, or in you being a complete child while taking the kids with you to form a team during the game. She had seen a part of you that had melted away her heart and her resolution. Wanda turned to her back glancing at the ceiling with her heart speeding at the memory of the kiss you placed on her cheek. 

But before she could delve even more in the memory, before she allowed the sweet, tortuous tingling in her body to travel down to her crotch, there was a knock on her door. Wanda sat almost right away, her eyes going big with anticipation, she spoke before she could stop herself with a voice heavy with sleep and confusion. 

“Who is it?” Wanda winced, rolling her eyes at her own stupidity. She tried to stand up before the door was opened but it was late. 

There standing by the door were the twins, they were holding one white rose in their hands and some superhero mugs with big smiles, behind them you were carrying a tray filled with eggs, bread, coffee and orange juice. 

The world came to a halt. 

Wanda observed the scene trembling like a leaf. Her breath caught on her throat, her eyes going from her children to you then back to them. She opened her mouth and closed it again, but there was nothing she could say without breaking up and giving into panic and tears. 

“Hey, sorry, they called America, but she stayed over at Loki’s place and America called me and… Well, you were asleep, and they were hungry, and I thought that you may need the sleep and…”

The twins snickered entering the room slowly, the both of them offered the white rose to Wanda who took them with trembling hands. The look in her eyes cut off you babbling, and you regretted doing what you just did. You had overstepped quite foolishly, assuming whatever had happened last night was an open invitation to… to be a freaking stalker or something equally awful. 

“Mommy, Y/N made pancakes like dinosaurs!”

“And we played, and helped her, and she let us pick the flowers!”

“Mommy, Y/N told us that we could watch the whole Jurassic Park movie on her TV, can we go?”

“You like the pretty flowers, Mommy?”

Wanda was bombarded by two hyperactive twins waiting patiently to Wanda 

You kicked yourself for just barging in the other woman's home without even asking, for thinking that perhaps this was okay. You and Wanda were not friends. Or, were you? 

Your trail of thoughts was cut short by a warm hand on yours. Wanda offered a trembling smile, she opened her mouth and then closed it again. 

“I… I…”Wanda snorted, shaking her head. “You didn't have to do this.”

You tilted your head holding onto the tray, it was true you didn't have to do it. You did it because you wanted to, because you hadn't stopped thinking about Wanda. Because you woke up thinking you could have kissed her the night before. 

“I just… I'm shocked, I've never had breakfast in bed.” She said, trying to ease out the uncomfortable silence in the room. 

“Never?” You asked incredulously, Wanda shook her head and just as you were to say something else Billy came forward speaking loudly. 

“Daddy said mommies didn't deserve breakfast and they should be serving us.” Billy made up a face sulking a little. “But Balder told us that his dad serves breakfast to his mommy… Because he loves her…”

Tommy placed his hand on his chin, pursing his lips while glancing up at where you were standing frozen in place after such a revelation. 

“Do you love mommy?” Tommy finally asked, and it was his question what broke the uncomfortable tension in the room.

Your face turned in a mask of reds and disbelief, while Wanda was just as mortified as you. The twins, blissfully ignorant of what they had just done, went back to crawl inside Wanda's bed and turned the TV on. 

Wanda was afraid to lift her gaze and discover disgust in your face, perhaps to find you looking at her as if Vision had been right all along. You don't deserve to eat, dear, last night I wasn't satisfied as I should be and you have to make it up to me today. 

You cleared your throat stepping closer with a grin in place. Your eyes gleamed warmly, tilting your head to catch those green irises in yours. 

“Well, boys, mommies deserve breakfast in bed every single day of the week.” You declared casually. “You guys love your mommy, right?”

Wanda's heart shrank with emotion when the twins exclaimed a loud yes, you were now dangerously close to her. 

“Then, it is obvious that she needs her breakfast.” You cleared your throat once more and this time around Wanda did look up to see you before her. “Let me make sure you have your first warm breakfast in bed, Wands.”

For a brief moment, you and Wanda stared into one another's eyes without any need to break into explanations. You were not asking for them, and Wanda was too afraid to say something and scared you away. The young woman fixed her position in bed, and you soon placed the trail on her lap. You offered a quick smile nodding to the twins and the tray. 

“Now, Wands, you go ahead and eat while you watch some cartoons with the children.”

“Cartoons?” Wanda asked amusedly, whatever nervousness she was experimenting with was diminished by your comment. The twins nodded watching as you surf the channels looking for some good cartoons. 

“Yes, Saturday mornings are mornings of cartoons and sleeping in until you can't take bed anymore.” You winked at her, and Wanda melted at the sight. 

She was foolish not to think that this was nothing more than a friendly gesture, and Wanda knew later on she would need to provide explanations about the comments made by Billy. But at the moment she could give in the moment, enjoyed the warm meal and the familiarity of the scene. 

Soon you found something Billy and Tommy asked for and the room filled with the sound of paw patrol. You smirked at Wanda who winced lightly while Tommy and Billy were hooked from the start. 

“And, what are you supposed to do now?” Wanda asked teasingly, you stood there for a moment putting the rose you had in your back pocket out and placing it on the tray. “Are you going to stay with us?”

Wanda tried to make it sound casual, as if she was just teasing you. But the air left her lungs when you leaned in, your eyes locked on hers, twinkling with an emotion that made Wanda's heart jump in her throat and her core tremble with longing. 

“Now you enjoy and later on I will wait for you at my place for lunch.”

“Stay.” Wanda said before she could stop herself, she opened her eyes, lowering her gaze. “I mean… You're here now, so you could have breakfast and…”

You chuckled winking at her, “perhaps at another time. Right now I have to run some errands and I want to make sure Billy and Tommy are okay before you wake up.”

“Thank you.” Wanda mumbled, you waved away her words walking backwards with a grin adorning your features. 

“Don't mention it, it was my pleasure. See you later, Wands.”

You almost crashed against the threshold, cursing lowly while hearing the snort of amusement from Wanda. Blushing lightly you shook your head and exited the room before you could do or say something that would put you in the spotlight. 

Wanda was left with her children, the food was warm and her stomach grumbled reminding her that she had been angry when waking up. 

“Okay, guys, I need you to tell me why you call America again.” Wanda finally asked, turning to Billy first then to Tommy. 

The twins took their attention away from the TV looking at Wanda. 

“She is cool, Mommy.” Billy said as if that was the best argument in the world. 

“I know she is, Billy, but she probably was asleep at home and she has things to do.” Wanda tried to reason with them, it was not the first time they had done this and Wanda was starting to think this could be bothering you and America at some point. 

“I like America and Y/N.” Tommy said, leaning closer to Wanda. “They make mommy smile.”

Billy nodded in agreement, “mommy, you like them too?”

Wanda flushed at the question, she pressed her lips together and decided to stuff her mouth with pancakes instead of answering that particular question. She let her thoughts run rampant, her body tingling with anticipation for the lunch time to be there already. 

__________________

Laughter filled the room, reverberating deep inside her soul at the sight before her.

Billy and Tommy were on the floor, holding onto their stomachs while laughter erupted from them with a young woman poking at them while a grown adult kept on making noises while the voice on the phone demanded seriousness. Wanda sat on the dark blue chair in the corner, she was closer to the fireplace and the window, the rain falling freely right outside the house. If anyone had asked her a couple of months ago the changes she had experimented in her life, she would have thought them crazy. Wanda had never considered herself strong, or even extraordinary, and quite frankly she never thought she would make it out of Vision’s grasp; when the time came for her to make decisions, it came as a surprised just how strong she really was. How ready she was to start fighting for who she was, and what she wanted.

Leaning back against the cushioned back of the chair, Wanda chuckled at the sight of Billy and Tommy enjoying themselves without a care in the world. Her green eyes flickered briefly from Billy and Tommy to America, the young woman was grinning like mad while putting the mobile away before turning the TV on, her soothing voice and clear wording made it impossible for the twins to ignore her. Wanda had seen the growing affection between her children and their babysitter, how that young woman had come over their lives and help the twins out of their scary shell.

For a moment, Wanda kept her eyes on a single spot between the twins and America. She was fighting over with her thoughts, the fluttering in her heart made her tingled until fluttering butterflies awoke at the pit of her stomach. Without any excuses to keep her eyes away from you, she let her green stare to fall upon your relaxed form on the floor.

You were resting your back against the sofa, one leg on the floor and the other bend slightly towards your chest. Your face was a mask of pure relaxation, there was a soft trace of flush on your cheeks and those eyes were completely soft and warmth as they focused on the children. Not for a single moment had you shown any disgust or exasperation against the twins, you were not even bored after answer a million questions and then telling them stories about yours and America’s younger days. 

Wanda held her hands closer to her chest, her heart twisted inside her chest making her experiment a spark of longing. Wanda longed for this to be her life, and just for that brief moment, Wanda could pretend this was her life. With Billy, Tommy, with America and with…with you.

But just as this thought sneaked inside her mind, she shook it away with panic rising inside her mind. It was impossible! She was not attracted to women, and she most certainly was not attracted to you! She couldn’t! She shouldn’t! And thus, she would bury those emotions and forget all about them. With time, Wanda knew she would realize this was just her way of developing friendships. Right? 

“Woah, earth to Wanda? Earth to Wanda!!” 

You were waving your hand in front of her face, the young woman shook her head blushing profusely with you just a few inches away from her grinning amusedly. Wanda could tell everyone had her attention on her, and she just hoped she had not been staring at you in an obvious way.

“I thought you want to either hit me or kiss me for the way you were looking at me.” You teased shaking your head in triumph when Wanda winced mortified.

“I wanted to hit you…” She stated through gritted teeth, you chuckled leaning back.

“Keep telling yourself that, Princess.” You winked at the young woman, before tilting your head back. 

Billy, Tommy, and America were now seated on the sofa watching a movie, and while the rain was still falling right outside your windows, it was no late than four in the afternoon. 

“I was asking you, if you want to start working on the preparations for the festival.” You lowered your gaze furrowing your brows. “We can use the studio and leave them here watching a movie.”

Still shaken by your early comment, Wanda tried to regain her wits before facing you again.

“Yes, I think we could go and work a little, there are a lot of things I would like to ask you about, and perhaps get to know a little better.” Wanda was about to stand up when you stretched out your hand, offering a support for her to take and stand up.

It took her a moment of hesitation before she came into contact with your hand. It felt warm against hers, and your fingertips were soft under her calloused palm. You offered a half smile, Wanda tried to smile back but it came as a grimace making her wince at her lack of decor to actually return such a simple gesture. Wanda thought you would let go as soon as she had stood up, but instead you took her hand in yours guiding her through the living room down the dinning room to the hall leading a to a single white door.

“My dad built his mancave in the basement.” You started explaining while going down the stairs with Wanda following close behind. “It became the studio for everyone in the house since he was incapable of being alone for far too long. He started bringing my toys and my things as well as some of America’s or even mom’s stuff.”

“This place is huge.” Wanda couldn’t help but admire the room, it had been well-adapted and there was no humidity or coldness sneaking inside the place. 

It had a single desk in the far corner, with a lamp and a laptop. There were a couple of inflatable chairs, a sofa bed, and a couple of futons; on the wall there was a TV and Wanda could see three different gamer consoles with the respective controls. This really had become more than a studio and more like a game room inside the house, and whenever America and her friends were up for a sleepover this was the place they stayed in

You were standing at the bottom of the stairs, scratching the back of your neck waiting for Wanda to say something. The young woman walked around the place, her eyes following the different patterns, the furniture, and then to the pictures decorating one of the walls. In there she could see the pictures of your younger self with your parents, some of you and your friends, and then America and her friends. Wanda softened slightly, her eyes falling into one picture that had a baby America clinging to you, behind the both of you were your parents smiling happily at the picture. For all your bravado, and rudeness, these were the glimpses of the real you that Wanda found endearing; she turned around to see you fidgeting near the stairs, as if you had been waiting her approval. 

There was a single moment in which she found herself looking directly into your eyes. You were trying to hold yourself in a casual manner, trying always to look as compose and in control as you presented yourself most of the time. But right now, you were just nervous and Wanda couldn’t help but think you were looking cute, and apart of her was hoping perhaps, this sudden nervous trait of yours was because of her.

“This is a game room, you know that, right?” Wanda finally exclaimed, her lips curling slightly. “And it looks like the playground of a 15-year-old teen.”

You crunched up your nose lifting your finger, “now look here, this is a pretty decent game room, and it fits the needs of a couple of orphans that wanted to make this a good place to play.”

Wanda chuckled making her way to the laptop, you followed her soon after sitting down on your favourite chair while putting your mobile out. 

“We haven’t changed anything, you know?” You finally revealed, Wanda took a seat right beside you tilting her head with curiosity. “I mean, this is how dad decorated it. Sure, we added some things, and some pictures and games but…dad decorated it himself. He…he was a 15-year-old at heart.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Wanda started but you stopped her waving your hand away.

“Oh, no, no, don’t worry, I just…you made me remember that discussion with mom.” You shrugged then. “I think, America and I never thought of changing this one room, the rest of the house has to go through some renewals, but this place…our last movie night was in this room. I think we never thought this place needs changing.”

It was the first time Wanda saw the vulnerability in you, the way your words tinged with sorrow and nostalgia, how your eyes held onto the glistening tears while your lips quirked upwards. You turned to Wanda, and in there she could see a strong woman that had been dealing with more chaos that she let on. Wanda hesitated for a moment before placing her warm hand on top of yours, her own features softening to offer you a single smile.

“It looks incredible, you know? I think that it really suits you and America.” 

You snorted nodding before looking away, “so, let’s get to work then, I have a couple of ideas that may work for this occasion.”

Wanda accepted the sudden change of topic with a short nod, but she didn’t miss the smile playing on your lips or the closeness you two were sharing at the moment. The young woman turned to the laptop to a word document you just opened, ready to start working. 

“So, what shall we do?”

Wanda chuckled with her cheeks warming up, she too turned to the laptop opening her mouth to start sharing the ideas that had been in her mind for a couple of days. Your fingers moving fast on the keyboard, your own ideas being brought upfront until you and her engaged in a conversation you would replay in your mind for days to come.

___________________

Time passed by so quickly, by the time you decided to look at your watch it read 9 p.m.

Rain had stopped a long time ago, and the noise from upstairs came muffled by the close door of the basement. You were laughing at some silly story Wanda had told you about her twin, and the young woman was just grinning at the sight of your own smile. While you had never doubt Wanda was smart, this was the very first time you shared a conversation with the woman; her quick wit, alongside her opinions and her own ideas let her shine with a light of her own. She was not only smart, but also funny and soon you found yourself wanting to continue with the conversation, to not let go of the fuzzy shivering of your heart just as Wanda gestured with her hands, speaking excitedly about the arrangements in the main hall of Stark’s compound.

And while you seemed completely hooked by the woman sitting in front of you, Wanda was not in a better position.

It had been far too long since she allowed herself to get closer to anyone that was not pre-approved by Vision. She had almost forgotten what it was to give her opinion and to actually share her thoughts and her knowledge in a conversation. You were not only smart but funny, and while you and her thought differently on many topics, you were always up for a negotiation and a well-thought argument that Wanda loved to retort only to see your eyebrow twitched, and then the glint of disbelief in your eyes. It had been so long since Wanda allowed herself to be this close to anyone, to actually leaned in just to get closer to another person without breaking the distance to steal a kiss.

Wanda found herself relaxing into the banter, and as the night progressed she found herself longing. What for? She was scared to even go behind the answer to such a question. And still, she hoped for you to just do something and ended with her misery and her uncertainty. Of course, as soon as these thoughts flourish in her mind, another darker one came in, and soon she found the face of Carol Danvers sneaking in just to remind Wanda you were already taken.

Her eyes flickered down to her feet, her heart tugging painfully in her chest. She felt tears pricking at her eyes, while her stomach dropped at the memory of you kissing the blond-haired woman, of that woman holding onto you in the Stark event. 

“Hey, you okay?” Your hand rested tentatively on top of hers, Wanda let her green eyes focused on the hands before she nodded curtly.

“Yes, sorry I just…” She tried to explain herself, the tears just rolling slowly making her felt like an idiot. She was about to speak when your fingertips wipe the tears away.

You were frowning deeply, Wanda found herself lost in your eyes and the honest concern she saw written in them. 

“Wands…” You started but Wanda just shook her head standing up, she put on her best smile stretching her right hand to grab yours.

“Come, I think we need a tea or something, and the kids have been far to silent for my taste…” 

Your frown deepened, but you decided to not make a comment about it. You grabbed Wanda’s hand in yours and soon you were following her close behind, her hand was warm against yours, your heart beating painfully in your chest. The first floor was in complete darkness, the only light coming from the living room that had the TV on, a movie was playing there, and on the sofa were Billy, Tommy and America, all snuggled up covered by a blanket and pillows to make it comfortable.

Wanda stopped on her tracks, her face softening at the sight.

She let go of you, stepping closer to the sofa and brushing Tommy’s hair away. The boy sighed turning slightly to snuggle closer to America, Billy was sprawled on the free space, and America had her hand wrapped protectively around to child’s knee. The whole scene was overwhelming to Wanda, the peace in her children’s face, the fact she could just let go of her worries knowing they were safe, that she was safe…

It was overwhelming.

Wanda never thought she would get to where she was at the moment, she never thought the day she met you that she would allow you to engulf her in a hug letting her sob for a moment. You stood there, making soothing circles on the young woman’s back not really knowing what to say, but making sure Wanda was following into the kitchen.

You sat Wanda down on the chair, turning towards the stove to start heating the water for the tea. The room was in complete silence, Wanda let her hand covered her face for what seemed an eternity until she gathered enough courage to start talking.

“You must think I’m weird, that I’m just this crazy person that doesn’t know how to keep her emotions in check.” Wanda blurted out glancing at the counter while wriggling her hands. “We were just having a good time, and I come and mess it up by crying and acting like an idiot.”

You stopped what you were doing, for a brief moment your back was still turned towards Wanda until you turned around facing the other woman.  Wanda never looked up, but you didn’t need her too, not yet anyway.

“I think you are amazing, Wands.” You leaned back against the sink, your hands resting on the table. “But I guess, your life has not been easy.”

Wanda snorted bitterly, her arms wrapping around herself, she had not forgotten about Billy’s comment early that morning, Wanda knew you had listened to it as if that wasn’t enough, you had also seen the scars in Tommy’s back. You had seen her at her most vulnerable, after the party thrown for the school; Wanda was afraid to look into your eyes and discover disgust in your eyes. She was afraid to actually find in those eyes understanding, and sympathy…

The world around her froze in time, a pair of fingers placed tenderly under her chin. Wanda felt the air on her lungs tangled in her throat, she trembled to her very core when her eyes found yours in a single stare. Whatever she expected to find in your glance, it was certainly not the warmth emotion filled with affection and something she could not name. You smiled at her, your hand brushing lightly on her skin before putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

“We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.” Your voice was soft, Wanda shivered shaking her head afraid to break the moment.

“I left my husband a couple of months ago.” She whispered placing her hand on your wrist. “He was not good to me or my children, and I just knew I have to leave before anything bad happen.”

It was not the whole truth, and Wanda felt bad at not being completely honest with you but in reality she was not ready to tell you the full story. How her life and that of the twins had been in danger, that the last time he had hit Wanda she was left to dead and taken to the hospital after Vision realized she could actually die. That he had used a cord from the television to hit Tommy on his back, and then had broken Billy’s arm. That he had threatened to kill the twins and then used Wanda like a breeding stock to keep her by his side.

Wanda was not ready to tell you, of all people, these things. 

You opened your mouth wanting to ask something, anything, but you decided there was nothing else you needed to know. It is not my story to tell. 

Natasha had said to you once, and now that you were looking into Wanda’s face, you realized, it was a story that the other woman needed to be ready to tell. You pressed your lips together, taking your hand away while stepping back a little.

“I’m sorry, Wanda.” You said the first thing that came to mind. 

Wanda broke into a bitter smile, her mirthless laughter sending shivers down your back.

“People don’t usually know what to say when I tell the story, so it’s fine.” Wanda shrugged turning her back to you. “I’m still getting use to…everything, that’s why I’ve been going to Doctor Hope, and why I ended up here.”

You didn’t need to ask anything else, it was not secret that Natasha was part of a secret group that helped people victims of violence. You had even contributed at some point with money and contacts, but it had never been your forte, your stepmother was the one involved with the group. Knowing that Wanda ended up at your doorstep because of this, because she was running and hiding stirred something deep inside your heart.

You felt the need to protect her and the twins.

“I guess it doesn’t help that I’m an asshole to you most of the time, eh?”

Your commented caught her off guard, and soon Wanda was actually laughing. You joined her sitting on the counter while leaning against your hand. Wanda put her hair away shrugging.

“You were the only one actually being you around me.” She replied. “So, I kind of appreciated you being an asshole, it helped me focus my anger against someone different than me.”

You snorted, bowing mockingly at her.

“I’m always glad to be of service, Princess.” Then, in a moment of inspiration you winked at her and added. “I can always be of some use, and continue being an ass to you, so you have someone to fight with.”

Wanda shook her head, this time around her face transformed into an expression you were far too afraid to decipher. Her eyes gleamed, and her lips broke into an easy smile.

“Even though your proposal is very tempting, I think I like you more now.” Wanda opened her eyes really big she waved her hands stuttering with a full blush on her face; you arched your brows looking at her amusedly.

“Oh, you like me now? Really?” You teased, and she stood up rather fast stepping back making her way to the kettle. 

“Oh, shut it, you know what I mean.” She tumbled over her words, with her back to you to hide away her embarrassment.

“Yes, you mean you like me, woah, Princess I didn’t know you swing that way…” Your laughter died off when the dishcloth she was using hit you in the face. “Hey!”

Wanda rolled her eyes trying to control her flustered cheeks, she mocked glare at you before spreading her arms rather exasperated.

“Can you help me with the tea, please?” She huffed when you chuckled jumping to the floor.

“Sure, Princess, anything you want.” You said winking at her, “after all, this is why you like me…”

“God, you’re impossible.” She mumbled trying to ignore her beating heart, or the grin threatening to break upon her lips.

You chuckled grinning smugly at her, nothing much was said about the topic, you didn’t press for more information and Wanda was just glad to share her story at her own pace. The silence that followed your teasing was one of pure familiarity, with you working alongside Wanda while making sure the tea was served with honey and milk. 

“Have you ever been to Kamar Taj?” Your question came out of the blue, Wanda made a face blinking a couple of times while shrugging.

“Not really…” She answered tentatively not really knowing where this question came from.

“Well, let me show you…” You fumbled with your mobile, the tip of your tongue poking through your lips as you search for the images. “And, let me tell you the story of how America and I got therapy after our parents accident.”

Wanda found herself admiring you from afar, your words held just a tinge of sadness in them, but your eyes gleamed with peace and affection as you located the pictures and started showing them to Wanda. You opened up to her, telling Wanda about Stephen and Cristine, about Tony and Pepper, and how everyone came together for you and your sister.  You were talking excitedly, your hands expanding the sights you had seen in Asia, but Wanda’s eyes had never left your face, or your expressions…She had never stopped looking at you, and if you had been paying attention, you would have noticed the deep affection gleaming in those green eyes.

__________________________________

Monday morning came with more troubles than solutions.

You hit your head on the desk, your assistant huffing in disapproval while she continued with your schedule for the rest of the morning and the afternoon. You had just come to the office after an accident in the production floor, some of the computers had malfunction, and half of the operation had stopped until IT and the facilities team to fix everything up.

The only thing holding you up, was the memory of your weekend. 

Saturday ended with Wanda staying at your home, the twins were fast asleep and it would have been rather dangerous to just carry them in the middle of a cold night to their house. They were warm, and the chilly night could make them sick, or so you reasoned with Wanda; you won the argument, and she slept with the twins on the basement, while America kept on shooting you knowing glances you didn’t even bother to acknowledge.

Then, Sunday came in and Wanda decided to repay your generosity with breakfast. 

Everything had been too damn domestic, and you had woken up on Monday morning panicking. What the hell were you doing? What were you thinking? Wanda was straight as an arrow! She had children! She was married! Sure, her husband was an asshole and no longer in the picture but she was way beyond your league!

She probably didn’t even like women or was curious about being with one! She was probably…

“Really, Y/N, if you’re not going to pay attention to me I’m not going to be here to pass you notes or messages to know what you’re supposed to be talking about.” Maria Hill crossed her arms glaring at you with such intensity you sometimes doubt who was the boss in here.

“Sorry, Maria, I’m…I’m just distracted.”

“No shit, boss.” Maria sighed stepping forward before sitting down. “Spill, I cannot do my job and you certainly can’t do yours if you keep this up, what happened?”

You sighed leaning back on your chair while glancing at the ceiling, you had been an emotional mess all weekend but it only worsened as soon as you woke up that morning and you realized you missed Wanda. Which was completely ridiculous since you had just spent the weekend with her, and it wasn’t even that extraordinary! You both had worked on the preparations for the festival, you had just spent the weekend with a friend and her children. Nothing more.

“I just had the strangest weekend ever.” You mumbled knowing Maria had her brown eyes fixed on you, more than an assistant, Maria had become in your confident whenever you felt the world on your shoulders.

It was a relief, and the woman always had the right words and the right advice for you. She was a good person, and her willingness to usually put up with you was enough to make you trust in her.

“Strangest…how?” She inquired placing her tablet on the table.

You chuckled crowing your hands on your abdomen, tilting your head you locked eyes with her.

“My neighbour, America’s teacher, we…Natasha selected us to organise the Winter Festival for the school,” you shrugged looking away, you missed the flash of recognition in Maria’s stare. “She came home and we just…I don’t know, we just talk and kinda bond…you know?”

Maria cocked a brow not missing for one second your wishful stare, or the inflections on your voice. She had heard from Natasha the strange hate/friendship relationship you had developed with your neighbour. But this was the first time she saw it in action; now Maria understood why Natasha had decided to meddle in it.

“And you bond…physically?” She asked half amused and half exasperated at your reaction.

You jumped startled, your cheeks burning red just as you started stuttering an answer.

“N-no! Of course not!” You shook your head standing up and passing left and right, “I was just…we were just…it was a friendly bond! You know? We talked about ourselves, and our lives and shit like that.”

“Charming.” Maria rolled her eyes once more, she then grabbed her tablet again clearing her throat. “Look, Y/N, I think that you have to wonder why this non-physical bonding with a neighbour you found infuriating is affecting you so much.”

You stopped your passing turning to the window, the sight before you were that of a busy city filled with people coming in and out of the streets. You could feel Maria’s eyes on you, she was waiting for your answer and you knew you needed to concentrate on the oncoming meetings; besides, she was right. Why were you so worked up about the weekend? Why were you so affected?

“I just…I’m not sure.” You dropped your shoulders turning slightly. “What else do I have for today?”

Maria pressed her lips together, she was very tempted to pressing the matter and get more answers out of you. But she had been by your side long enough to know, it would be pointless you were far too confused to actually get into a serious talk. By the time you turned to face her, Maria knew you were in full business mode and whatever had been distracting you was pushed deep inside your mind, avoiding your emotions was something you were very adept at. 

“You have lunch with Carol Danvers.” Maria smirked at your reaction; you winced placing a hand at the nape of your neck. “She actually made it official; we still had some contracting with the government and since she is the new liaison for Camp Davis you couldn’t say no.”

You nodded curtly, knowing the meeting was Carol’s way to get your attention on a topic you had been avoiding for more than a week. When did you relationship with Carol changed so much? Why did it change so much?

“And then, after that you have a business meeting with Edwin Jarvis, you know? The CEO from Vision Enterprise.” Maria furrowed her brows putting up some files. “He is looking to get some investment in AI technology and has some interesting ideas.”

You nodded absentmindedly, your mind still on Carol and Wanda.

“I think I’ve heard of him, Tony mentioned him at some point.” Maria clicked her tongue and this time around you did pay attention to her. “What is it?”

“This individual, he is also being investigated.” She replied softly, your eyes open slightly taking a seat on your chair you leaned forward.

“Go on, what is it? Should I cancel the meeting?” 

Maria pursed her lips before shaking her head.

“He is being investigate for some fraud and industrial espionage.” Maria put the file in front of you, you turned to your screen reading the file she just sent to you. “It seems this is an ongoing matter, but there is also a sealed file about his wife and his children.”

“He sounds like the kind of individual I don’t want to be relate to, Maria.” You pursed your lips reading over the investigation for tax evasion and industrial espionage, the one on his wife and children was left blank and had a seal from the federal government on top of it.

“I know; however, Tony wants you to meet with him.” 

This time around you couldn’t hide your surprised, you cocked your head to the side and then your eyes opened wide in understanding.

“Very well, what do I have to do?”

“I’m so glad that you always catch up once you have your mind out of the gutter.” Maria smirked leaning in while ignoring your sputtering protests.

_______________

The restaurant was packed.

Carol had chosen the restaurant right around the corner of your building, it was an old place filled with golden lights, and white tables with a darkened interior and sweet classical music dancing around the place. It was the home for old and new members of society, and it was the preferred place for the high ranking officers of the military when they wanted to make a good deal.

Your eyes swept the interior trying to locate the woman that was waiting for you, Carol waved at you from the far corner of the restaurant the table for two located it near the window right beside a beautiful fountain made of coloured water. The young woman wore her uniform, the signs that she had been in a formal meeting moments before meeting with you.

“Hey.” You greeted leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek, Carol smiled sweetly at you indicating the chair while calling over the waitress.

“Hey, thank you for coming.” She stated lowering her gaze for a moment before facing you again, you winced grabbing the menu and asking for something light and some water before focusing your attention on Carol.

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

“You had been avoiding me.” Carol didn’t beat around the bush, she grabbed her glass of water and took a long sip with her eyes pinning you to your spot.

You shifted your weight leaning forward, your mouth opened ready to deny her words but unable to do so. In reality, she was right, you had been avoiding her; ever since she proposed to you the trip to Eastern Europe you knew the relationship should stop but you didn’t dare to do so, and this inability to get your relationship clear with Carol had been the downfall of you affair with her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” You replied lamely, Carol sighed dropping her face her voice marked with the vulnerability she felt at the moment.

“I think you know I’m in love with you.” Carol took a deep breath, her lips trembling as she spoke. “I’ve been trying so hard to make you fall for me, I…I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this relationship, but I always thought…I really want you to come with me, Y/N, let me…let me be the one for you, just as you have become the one for me.”

The room filled with heavy air, and deafening silence.

Your heart shrank at her confession, and your hand stirred at your side wanting to reach out and grab Carol’s hand. The blond-haired woman offered a single smile, but it was quite evident to you that tears were threatening to leave her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled passing your hand through your hair. “I was not fair to you, Carol.”

Carol snorted looking out of the window, the waitress chose that moment to bring the food and, as soon as he was gone you continued.

“I do love you, you know? I never thought of this to be jus an affair, and I…” You trailed off not knowing how to explain to Carol that you tired, you really did.

She had always been special, a friend that you could always turn to whenever things went bad or good, she had been there for you when your parents died and when Shuri broke your heart. At first you hadn’t understood why she was so unconditional until, one day while you were hating on yourself and the world she kissed you and the affair was born. It was supposed to be with not attachments, and yet Carol couldn’t help herself once she got to see a side of you she had never seen before. You wished it had been the same for you, but you always thought this relationship was nothing more than two good friends helping one another.

You had been unfair. And Carol didn’t deserve it.

“I wished I had fallen in love with you, Carol. I really do.” You finally confessed, this time around you did stretch your hand and grabbed hers in yours.

Carol lowered her stare to your hand, tempted to just pull away but giving into the comforting touch. She swallowed down her tears, her lips breaking into a bittersweet smile.

“I thought this meeting would be different, you know?” Carol let out a breath, pressing her lips tightly. “I thought perhaps…”

You lifted her hand, leaning in placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. 

“I’m still here, you know?”

Carol nodded hesitating before speaking, “so, will you go with me? Will you…give us a chance?”

You dropped your eyes, your mouth opened then close again.

“Would you stay? Would you try to give me a chance?” You asked back, and just for that brief moment Carol was tempted to say ‘yes’, but the truth was she could not stay.

Carol had worked from an early age on her dream to be part of the Airforce, to get on top of her game and surpass that boy’s club that had dominated the Airforce for far too long. She and Maria had been working hard on this, and when she was offered the position, Carol knew what she had to do. Her love for you was there, and you had been the only one that made her doubt her career choices; Carol had been ready to say no, until she talked to Maria again and was faced with her dream and her goals.

I know you love her, Carol, but are you ready to leave your dreams behind for someone, anyone? Are sure this won’t come back later on as a reproach for missed chances?

“I’ve been waiting so long for this.” Carol mumbled; you smiled nodding.

“I know, and you don’t know how proud I am. You deserve this, Carol, and you will always count with me to be there for you.” You hesitated before standing up and putting your chair closer to the blond-haired woman, Carol opened her eyes letting out a chuckled when you finally put your chair closer to her.

“What are you doing?” Carol laughed when you fixed everything so you would be closer to her, without letting go of the hand you had been holding for comfort.

“Just moving closer to you, you have always been my friend, Carol, regardless of what happened I do love you, and you are my friend, I hope you know that.”

Carol melted under your words, she returned her attention to her food before speaking again. 

“You are my friend as well, Y/N.” Carol looked back at you, “and that’s why I have to ask, are you…do you…what’s going on with Wanda, Y/N?”

“What? Why?” You leaned back, eyes opening at the sudden question. 

Carol rolled her eyes, this time around she did look rather upset.

“Well, it is quite obvious something is happening, I’m mean the last couple of times you couldn’t stop talking about her, and then when we met at the supermarket you were…weird.”

You sputtered shaking your head looking away from Carol, “no, no, nothing, I just…she is…she is the mother of the children America babysits for, nothing else.”

Carol didn’t seem convince by your words, she took a sip from her water pursing her lips.

“Are you sure? I mean you look…” Carol could see this topic was not something you were ready for, you squirmed on your chair emptying the glass of water while playing with your food. “Y/N…”

“Nothing, there is nothing, she is just a neighbour… nothing else.”

The conversation changed afterwards.

For Carol it was quite evident you didn’t want to talk about the topic, and if she was going to be honest, she didn’t want to know. Those two different times she had seen you interact with the redhead; she had seen a glint in your eyes Carol was not familiar with; it was a glance she yearned to obtain from you, but it seemed to just be for a single individual. You hadn’t even look Shuri in such a way, and this was what made Carol hesitated about the situation.  

But the time lunch was over, you and Carol had found peace in the conversation. You two found a common topic, and soon business was on the table while she asked for your opinion on the subjects that would soon dominate her life, while you asked about the oncoming meetings.

“I will miss you.” Carol said hugging you tightly, you hugged her back smiling softly while enjoying the woman in your arms.

“I’m going to miss you too, Carol.” She stepped back, but she was still close enough you could feel her warm breath on your face. “Carol…”

Your words were cut off by a pair of lips against yours, the kiss was slow tentative touch of the lips teasing you. Carol was flustered once she stepped back, she offered a smile that you returned with a shake of your head.

“Just a good-bye kiss.” She winked at you turning around and walking towards the parking lot. 

You watched her leave, a heavy heart inside your chest wondering if you made the right decision by letting go of a woman that had shown you so much love in the last couple of months. You put your hands in your pockets turning round to walk towards your building, you couldn’t keep her by your side waiting to fall in love with her, that wouldn’t be fair with her, or with you.

With a last glance to the sidewalk, you stepped back and went back to your office, a weight you didn’t know you were carrying on your back finally lifting up and leaving you lighter and open to the world of possibilities you had been trying to bury deep inside your mind, a world of possibilities that had a name of its own: Wanda Maximoff.

________________

“Oh, I didn’t know you were a woman.” The man smiled charmingly at you, his hand stretched out while he glanced around the room as if waiting for someone else to come forth into the meeting. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you are a beautiful woman, but for some reason I have always thought of Y/L/N instead of your first name.”

You forced a smile at the absurdity of his comment, he merely laughed and went to take a seat to the left side of the table. You crossed stares with Maria who shot you a cold glare as a warning to keep your cool and not to do or say anything incorrectly. 

“Right, I bet it is a common mistake.” You sat down as well leaning back on your chair while pointing with your hand the file on the table. “I’m glad I get to know you as well, Mr. Jarvis, I’ve been reading to your proposal and me and my team had a counteroffer for you.”

“Oh, a counteroffer?” Jarvis grabbed the file in his hands, he started reading while ignoring the rest of the room.

You had chosen the conference room of tenth floor for the meeting, the place was packed with only a couple of offices and some storage rooms that were the home of the material used on the production floor and the operations room. It was the most neutral ground you could find, more so after finding out how the man operated. The room was almost empty, no decorations on the walls, with a single window that was left facing the city. You let your eyes wandered to Maria who was sitting at the other end of the table, her hands busy with her tablet and her phone while she too made sure to watch the man closely.

“Everything seems to be in order but, I don’t get it.” He stated pointing to a section in the contract. “It says in here that you would only provide with money if I worked here, is that correct?”

“Yes, I prefer this kind of deals to be in a controlled environment.” You shrugged putting your hands together. “Our contracts go directly under the government, and we cannot risk losing any data because of unknown facilities.”

“My business is very secure, Mrs. Y/L/N.” Jarvis straightened up hardening his stare. 

“I don’t have any doubts about that, but you have to understand this is part of the non-negotiables, this is the most secure red in the world and what you intended to do will require such facilities to prevent espionage. I think this is a pretty sweet deal for the both of us.”

Jarvis clenched her jaw close, his cheek burning up with embarrassment at being played at like a child. His eyes drifted to the contract, not only was he being ordered to work in some unknown facilities, he would also be made to sign a non-disclosure clausule and the rights for his technology. 

“You are asking for far too much, Mrs. Y/L/N, and I'm afraid I'm not seeing the benefits such a deal will bring to me.” Jarvis leaned forward placing his arm on the table, his hand playing with the pen. “You are not the only company interested in buying this idea, and I have to say their proposals are more seductive…”

“And yet, here you are.” You leaned back against your chair, your eyes examining the man sitting in front of you.

Maria had done a good research of him, a married man he started his business thanks to a small inheritance on his father's part and then to the money left by his father in law. He had built a solid company in the industry of technology and entertainment, nothing too extravagant but enough to make him a notorious and well-adjusted member of society in Westview and Jersey. He had tried to jump into major leagues with a risky inversion that ended up with him almost in bankruptcy. Then, all of a sudden, his business got better and now he was someone selling away his ideas to the best buyer. It was then the investigation started leading Homeland and some federal authorities to be not only after him but also after some red of business people that had dedicated their lives to steal ideas of millions of dollars from others. 

You knew you were not risking much in this deal, and quite honestly you would be more than happy if the man decided to go after another buyer, but right now your company was being targeted mainly because you were the number one in the business. Maria had assured you he would bite the bait, people thought your company while one of the most powerful in the world had lost its edge after your dad's death. They were looking for the weakest link to just get their hands in a portion of the business you dealt with. No one could imagine you had been dealing with one crisis after another with an iron fist and good advisors. 

Jarvis seemed to think that this was the opportunity he had been waiting for, he didn't seem to like the fact it was you the one he had to deal with. When he first acceded to this he was told he would deal with the old man in charge of Alchemax. He never thought he would need to deal with a young woman, but he could always start the deal before charming his way into her pants and getting something good out of this. 

“You are right, here I am.” His whole demanour changed in a second, he opened up his arms, tilting his head he sent a flirty smile your way with his eyes twinkling at you. “I never thought I will be bested at negotiations by such a beautiful and young woman such as yourself, Mrs. Y/L/N, but I can tell you I feel confident of the business we are making today.”

Jarvis grabbed the pen signing the contract with a flourish, you smiled back lifting a single eyebrow to the man who was now trying to be charming and flirty towards you. 

“This is the beginning of a great relationship between Alchemax and Vision Enterprise.” You replied standing up while offering your hand to the older man, he stood up as well taking your hand in his and placing a kiss on your knuckles. 

You never left the smile off of your face, Jarvis stood dangerously close to you towering above you while pressing you back. Maria was about to stand up but a single gesture from you stopped her. You lifted your head, your eyes going from those eyes to his lips and the smirk in the man's face was all you needed to know at the moment. 

“I recognize when I have been bested by someone as beautiful as yourself, what o you say if we go out for dinner and celebrate this new deal?” Jarvis let his thumb brushed the skin of your backhand, he winked at you before continuing. “I know just the place you may like, and perhaps…Who knows? This could be the beginning of something else.”

You giggled, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, the man holding back the victorious smile that was threatening to break on his lips. 

“Something like what, Mr. Jarvis?” You asked, lowering your voice, Jarvis this time around straightened up. 

“Something more pleasurable for the both of us…”

“Oh, but what about your wife and your children? Are they coming as well, Mr. Jarvis?”

Up until that moment, Jarvis had all but forgotten about Maria sitting at the far end of the table. His shoulders put back, the tension around his eyes heightening the wrinkles in his face, his eyes lost all flirtatious glint while he glared at the other woman. The subject of her wife was a sore one for him, and while he knew these people didn't know the truth it still made his blood boil whenever that fucking bitch was mentioned. 

The embarrassment she had made him experiment was something he would never forgive her for, and he had most of his resources dedicated to find Wanda and the twins and make sure they were brought to him before he made sure they would never leave his side. 

“Wife and children?” You clicked your tongue stepping back while taking the contract in your hands. “I would love to take your offer, Mr. Jarvis, but I do not mess with married men and, most importantly, with business partners. The facilities are ready for you and your team, and the security access has been approved, so you are free to start tomorrow if you want.”

“Now, wait a moment,” Jarvis stepped in trying to salvage the situation, his face once more red with embarrassment. “My wife and children are away with their grandmother, and I just wanted to make it clear my marriage is more a formality to a poor woman who thought getting pregnant would trap me into her delusions of love…”

You turned to the man, your face à mask of disbelief that soon changed into a blank stare. Jarvis smiled weakly at you, lowering his gaze while putting a hand on his pocket. 

“I stayed for the children.”

You were not asking for explanations, but the fact this man was ready to give them told you what type of person he was. Maria had made her way to where you were standing her brows out together while ignoring the heated glare Jarvis sent her way. 

“Please, Mr. Jarvis, no need to explain yourself.” You replied, shaking your head offering the same innocent and shy smile you had presented him a moment ago. “it is not my business, but either way, I will ask for a rain check since I already had a commitment this afternoon and was not able to accept your invitation.”

Jarvis sighed in relief putting on his charming smile once more. If he got to score something with you, perhaps he wouldn't need Wanda or the brats to get money out of them.

“Then, let me see what can be arranged for you and I to celebrate at a later date.”

“It's a date, now if you excuse me I have a meeting with the board in five minutes.”

You dropped your smile once the lift doors closed in front of you. 

“God, I will need a fucking shower after this.” You shivered in disgust, Mary snorted writing something on her tablet. 

“At least Fury is going to be happy.” She replied, shrugging. “It's a win-win situation.”

“Next time we're going to let him kiss your hand and try that creepy smile with you, okay?” You retorted crossing your arms. “The nerve of the man! To think I am straight at all!”

Maria laughed at your comment, she held onto her abdomen shaking her head before leaning back against the walls of the lift. You smiled at her lifting a single accusing finger to her. 

“Next time, I would let everyone think you are straight and that Natasha is just a really good friend.” That silenced Maria who blushed profusely, turning away from you. 

“That's not funny.” She grumbled. 

“Oh, it is if you remember how you and Natasha came to be a couple.” 

Maria winced trying to bury the memories in her mind, it wasn't so much she didn't treasure the moment she and Natasha found one another. It was just that it was also the most embarrassing time in her life and remembering That moment made her cringe from time to time. 

“Anyway, I found the man disgusting, and I considered his wife.” You commented lightly. “He really is quite the character, you could find something else about his family?”

“No, it is a closed file, so I will need special clearance to see it.” Maria waited for a moment but you shook your head. 

“No, it doesn't matter anyway, Fury is after the man for tax evasion and espionage. We don't even know what really happened with his wife.” 

“Very well.” Maria exited the lift after you, afternoon was already falling and the lights of yellow and orange decorated the sky giving way to the darkness of the night. “Miguel just finished putting the security measures on the red we gave them, and everyone is already aware of what to do.”

“Good then, let's get this one last meeting over so I can go home to my sister…”

“... And your neighbour.” Maria smirked mischievously at you, her amusement growing when your feet falter at the mention of Wanda. “Are you going to tell her you and Carol are no longer together?”. 

“Why would I do that?” You replied sharply trying to hide the blush on your face. 

“Oh you know? Because you two are friends and there may be a possibility she wants to jump your bones?”

“God you and Natasha are going to be the death of me someday!”

Maria laughed following you inside the main hall towards the conference room. Maria found it amusing how Natasha picked up on this kind of things, now that she and Hope had talked about the topic and that Maria had seen your reactions and the way you talked about Wanda she had to agree that there was something there. Whatever it was, it brought a silly smile to your lips, it made you more relax and open. Maria was certaines you were not ready to admit these changes, or even the implications of your emotions, but there was time and perhaps these moments you were sharing with Maximoff while planning the Winter Festival were the push you needed. 

There was only one thing that was worrying Maria and that was  the truth behind Jarvis and Wanda. She hated lying to you, and even more so when someone as important as Wanda was for you was involved. But Natasha had assured her this was the best way to trap the man, and to make sure Wanda and her children were protected while Jarvis faced justice for a long time. 

Y/N cannot know anything, Maria, please, she is already involved with Wanda as it is and knowing this could make her act harshly and we need to do this with care to trap the bastard. 

“Anyway, I don't even think she… Likes me that way,” there is a hint of regret in your tone, your hand hovering above the knob of the door, you licked your lips frowning deeply before turning to Maria. “Not that it matters at all or anything just… WeWe're good friends, you know? And she is straight as an arrow… So,yeah…”

There was a moment of silence, Maria narrowed her eyes at you but you put on your best smile before opening the door and entering the conference room, whatever you were thinking or even experimenting at the moment completely forgotten as you took the reins of the meeting. Maria storing away this moment, she knew she would need to have a serious talk with Natasha once she got home.

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

Next chapter: Reader and Wanda are trying to deny what had become evident to everyone, Riri played her cards well and America is at a crossroads. The twins are getting far too comfortable, and the Winter Festival preparations create a tension between you and Wanda that you didn't dare to break.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader #wanda/y/n #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda/reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda mcu

[findafight]

Oh my god!!! That Steve/baby sister fic!!! If you ever want to build it out more I’d be obsessed (ie the party + extended party’s reactions, hop + Joyce and how everyone pitches in)

╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯ awwww anon!!!!!

Honestly I have been thinking about it and I know I put in the tags of the original post, buuuut. Robin called Steve Bud or Buddy which morphed into Bubba when they are being particularly soft with each other, and the baby (who I am possibly leaning towards calling Tina so her nickname can be Tintin because it's cute idk) picks up on it so calls Steve her Bubba. Also because "he's my big brother" can sort of become "he's my Bubba!" If words are smushed together by baby babble

But before all that, Steve (who walked to work that day because he didn't have a baby car seat yet and wasn't going to leave his baby sister whom he always wanted and loves so dearly already ALONE or worse. With their FATHER.) goes to, of all people, Mrs. Wheeler for help. He'd go to Joyce but she's working and Karen Wheeler has the youngest kid he knows so is the best bet for maybe getting some tips and also maybe a carrier because the bjorn isn't going to cut it for long. So he goes and Mr. Wheeler immediately thinks Steve's Accidental Baby Acquisition is due to Steve's own recklessness. (Steve is a prolific lover, sure, but he's smart and safe about it! When he was thirteen his dad sat him down for a talk about not wanting the disgrace of a shotgun wedding and his grandpa gave him a run down of venereal diseases he saw (didn't mention having but. Well.) His pals have in WWII that put the fear of God in him regarding unsafe sex. Moreso than the potential babies. So. He's always very careful. For this very reason!! Except apparently his dad didn't use his own advice but Steve isn't complaining because, once again, he always wanted a little sibling.)

Anyways the wheelers are like ohhhh a Harrington Scandal not involving the boy our daughter dated? Okay sure here's Holly's old baby carseat. Hopper is just. He's like. I thought Steve and that kid I kept giving warnings to about selling dope to were a thing and Steve is like "will people stop assuming she's mine!! I know I am a bit of a slut but I am terrified of chlamydia!!! And even if this WAS my fault (which it is not and also she's a gift I love you little baby sister you're the light of my life) I am taking responsibility for it so maybe we all need to be a little less judgy hmmm??"

Joyce and Karen give him some hand me down baby clothes and books, some good tips about feeding and burping and things like that, and Claudia and Sue offer to come passive aggressively congratulate Steve's dad.

Dustin is a little jealous because this Steve Time is going to be encroached upon by This Literal Infant but Steve is like Dustin... you are my Little Brother... My silly pal...Now you have a sister too!! 🥰 And Dustin is like Oh Shit That's Right and proceeds to try to teach this Literal Infant, it cannot be stressed enough that she is a few months old and cannot stay sitting up by herself, how to build a radio.

Eddie is just trying to not have a heart attack from the concentration of Pure Longing activated by seeing Steve With A Baby and has also been forbidden from playing anything loud near them. He is fine and deals with this by writing ballads that make Gareth gag from their sweetness and Jeff have a very knowingly indulgent look when he sees the lyrics. But Gareth lets he hit his drums with he baby hands and Jeff pretends she stole his nose so they aren't that put out by it.

El is Fascinated by the tiny human and asks lots of questions and wants to play with her, give her experiences of softness and kindness right off the bat she knew she herself was denied, so she's often the official baby holder when Steve needs to do something when the Party is around.

The rest of the party is pretty meh on the baby. Sure it's exciting at first but she just kinda becomes part of regular life. They take turns doing actual babysitting for Steve so he can work or run errands or even, gasp, have some normal early adult fun times, but it's all pretty regular. Erica is glad she's not the party baby anymore.

They do however probably secretly fight over who gets to be baby's godparent. Steve isn't allowed to know.

#anonasaurus #steve harrington #big brother steve #the party #stranger things #steddie #platonic stobin #dustin and steve #findaanswers #finda's rambles #finda writes stuff

[kaylas-world-0]

Rayman x Reader

A/N: This time definetly a romantic one-shot! You two are dating for the sake of this fluffy story~

I, of course, again couldn't think anything else but the Rayman from the games bleh.

I WILL NO LONGER WRITING FOR ANYONE UNTIL I FINISH MY REQUESTS Thank youuu~

So sorry if there is any typo mistakes~

Summary: You and him- cute everyday intimate moments~

Warnings: ... a little bit suggestive in the end

Masterlist

Word Count: no idea once again

Taglist: @blorbostation @eateableworm @livelaughluvvfaithyy @darkchanx @astoraa @shiroisotto64

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

Dear anons; I would really appreciate it if you could choose an emoji while sending your asks and requests (and stick with it) so I can tell you apart. Thank you~

Good news I find more gifs~

Fruits

He quickly followed behind, "Ah.. to where?"

You push a basket on his chest, "Here take this and follow me." You turn around and start to stroll down in the forest with a happy hum.

You give him a look, "What do you think?"

He huffed realising how stupid his question was, "Okay. But why?"

You coed playfully, "What? The all mighty ray of sunshine don't want to help? Oh, wait, I get it. He was thinking of going back to sleep." You smirked to yourself.

Instead of being offended he hummed with a grin, "Actually laying down doesn't sound too bad right now."

You rolled your eyes, "Well, It's better than sleeping."

"Helping you to collect fruits? Sure." He grinned.

You shook your head, "I am serious. I know you enjoy your little naps but I don't think it won't cause you any trouble helping me with such a small task, right?"

"Who said I won't? Of course I will. You know why?"

"Because you love helping?" You sacrasticly spoke.

He paused, "Well, yes, but it's also because I love helping you."

You shook your head with a smile and grabbed his hoodie dragging him along with you like a little kid. He chuckled at that and quicky caught up to your speed.

You two soon find a nice place to started filling your baskets with fruits. After a while of collecting your eyes landed on his form.

His body screthed up and his hand floated above plucking an apple and put it in the basket. You nibbled with your lip. Since you first laid eyes on him you were always curious and intruged about his anotamy. You aslo never tried to hold his hand before which bothers you a bit knowing he might also notice your avoidance (All couples hand holds after all, right? Would he like that if you do?)... He wasn't weird to you... at least anormal by now... it was just... unusual. You never saw someone like him before, your hesitation is normal, right?

What you mean is... you were just afraid to somehow hurt him. Physically and emotionally. You continue observing him in deep thoughts.

As Rayman reached out to grab another apple, he suddenly froze. He found the new weight and warmth on his back unusual but nothing to alarmed about. His lips turned into a small smile as you leaned on your body against his, it wasn't something you did all the time causing him to also raise a brow in question. Was something wrong? Before he could say anything you spoke, “Should we measure our hands?” With that soft spoken question he blinked in surprise and turn to you. But he didn't question.

"Sure."

He step back and raise his hand out to you. He saw you hesitate as you extended your own towards his. He turned his eyes to yours, hoping that he is at least reasuring you in some way.

When you pressed your hands together, you had a strange feeling. Like electricity going through your body, causing you to want to launch back... Maybe because of you were excited or maybe afraid? You didn't know how to explain this feeling. It felt like... a feeling you had when Rayman was seriously injured before and you couldn't bear to touch him during his recovery.

You give a silent sigh and smiled, "Your hands a bit smaller then mine. Only in height though. Yours is longer in width."

He smiled at you and connected his fingers with yours, his grin widen to see the dust of pink growing on your cheeks. "You are right. But I can still wrap your whole hand in mine."

You chuchkled, "Y-yeah." You squealed when you suddenly feel your other hand snatched by him and pulled towards his body.

He leaned on you, a hand on your back and the other still holding yours. You yelped when he started moving around. You were really confused and flustered a bit, you quickly and catuisly try to match your steps with his, your eyes on his feet to not accidently step on them.

He gently grabbed your chin and made you face him, "My eyes are up here." He whinked with a warm smile making your heart skip a beat.

You scoffed but your expression quickly softened with how lovingly he was observing you. You flushed away from his gaze.

He slowed down a bit, now you know what he was trying to do. Dancing. With an imaginary song. You smiled at that. How silly. Though you didn't resist. Without even relising your tension quickly fade away. You two start to sync even more in time and moved smoothly. He gently twirled you around and dipped you down causing you to giggle.

He laughed along with you as you both continue dancing around. He gently grabbed your hand and let you hold his shoulders (you actually don't know what to call that) and he rested his hands on your waist. You hummed and laid your head on his chest.

You muttered softly, "I didn't knew you would suddenly start dancing out of no where."

"I'm trying my best thanks a lot."

You snorted at that and look up at him, "How cute of you."

"What do you mean? I am always cute."

You found yourself pressed on his chest as his hand supported your back once again dipping you. You bit your bottom lip, "I never said you weren't. You are quite charming too."

"Say something I don't know, prencess."

"Hmm.." your eyes landed on his lips, you swallowed and quickly looked away, "I guess you know everything I am gonna say, huh?"

Your gazes both met once again, his eyes full of desire matching with yours as he leaned in with a whisper, "I might know what you think too..."

Your eyes fluttered close, his lips even softer on yours than you ever imagined. And they tasted like berries. You felt your back laying on the soft ground as he stood on top of you deepending the kiss causing you to let out a little moan.

You gently pushed him away, your hot bretahs mixing with each other as you both stared deep into each others eyes. He leaned in to leave more kisses all over your face slowly going down to your neck only you to push him away with a stuffed laugh. He grinned down at you as you nibble on your lip still tasing him on them. You raised a playfull brow, "Have you've been eating the berries we were collecting?"

He pondered, "Maybe. So what if I have been?"

He yelped and a grunt escaped his lips when he was flipped, finding himself under you, his cheeks supported a strong blush.

"I'll make you pay for that of course."

He chuckled, "Oh, really? What you gonna do about that?" His words come out a bit shaky in the end.

You slowly leaned in playing with the hem of his hoodie causing hin to shiver slightly, you whispered in his ear,"Do you really wanna find out what I am going to do to you?"

He nodded timidly, curious and excited.

You jumped off off him, "I will deprive you of the fruit cake I will bake, of course." You laugh with his dissapoint and surprise face.

He turn to you with a scoff, "I guess that's not the only thing you are deprivibg me today." He mumled out.

"Come help me to carry these back home will you?"

"Sure." He sighed with a soft smile, shooking his head.

#cl rayman #rayman x reader #rayman #x reader #reader #phantom show rayman #rayman captain laserhawk #allenwrites

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Caplan's Disney Celebration

Rules:

You don’t have to follow me, but its definitely encouraged!

PLEASE use a summary!!

If the fic is more the 300 words, use a keep reading feature!!!

Tag the challenge as #

There’s no limit how many prompts you can chose!

Tag my url & the challenge name in the a/n’s note before the fic along with the hashtag please!

No due dates 

Any character you’d like to write for!

once a fic has been given to me, they will be placed in a masterlist

If i do not respond to your fic within 24 hours of posting, PLEASE message me a link!!

Dialogue Prompts

"Take it with you so you'll always have a way to look back ... and remember me."

 "Have you ever seen something so wonderful in your entire life?"

“How did you survive being locked up in a castle for all this time?”

“What do you mean, you’re the lost princess?”

"Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten"

“It’s called a cruel irony, like my dependence on you.”

“I warn you child. If I lose my temper, you lose your head. Understand?!”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t turn your back on me.” 

 “A true loves kiss. If only there was someone out there who loved you.” 

"Today is a good day to try"

"Love is putting someone else’s needs before yours"

"If you ain’t scared, you ain’t alive"

"Any day spent with you is my favorite day. So, today is my new favorite day"

"He fell into despair, and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

“You really shouldn’t come back here, you know. It’s not safe.”

“I told you to stay away from this wing!”

“He was this close—just staring at me.”

“Do you trust me?”

“(And) You will always be in my heart.”

“I especially love his smile.”

“New and a bit alarming.”

“Now kiss her.”

“How can I prove myself if no one will give me a chance?”

“People around here think I’m crazy, but I don’t care.”

“I’m a damsel. I’m in distress. I can handle this. Have a nice day.”

“Guys….I want a castle.”

“If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothin’ at all.”

“When I look at you, I can feel it. I look at you, and I’m home.”

“Put that thing back where it came from or so help me.”

“There’s no one I’d rather be than me.”

“It was worth it…if you learned something from it.”

“You deliberately disobeyed me.”

“I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“How could you do that to me?”

Song Lyric prompts

“And I’ve got friends on the other side.” - Dr. Facilier, “Friends on the Other Side”, 

“But you’ll be rewarded when at last I am given my dues. And injustice deliciously squared! Be prepared.”

“I admit that in the past I’ve been a nasty. They weren’t kidding when they called me, well, a witch.”

“If she doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.”

“I’ve reached the top and had to stop and that’s what botherin’ me.”

“Ain't got time for messing around”

“People down here think I'm crazy”

“I put a spell on you, and now you’re mine.

“Don’t forget it, you’ll regret it.”

“Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart”

“Never thought she'd look my way And she smiled at me and held me”

“I was the master of my fate.”

“I learned the truth too late.”

“I let her steal into my melancholy heart.”

“I'm where I'm meant to be”

“He has never been one of us.”

“Now I know she’ll never leave me.” 

“I should thank you...but it’d be more fun to kill you.”

“This crown gives me a feeling of power!”

“It’s not my fault, I’m not to blame”

“He asked for trouble the moment he came”

#CaplansDisneyCelebration

[huskersbooze]

Sick

Alastor x Reader

Summary : You get sick and Alastor keeps you company <3

Warnings : Swearing(lots of it)

Pairings : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here)

Additional Tags : ALASTOR POV CUZ YES. Sick reader, implied relationship, h/c, fluff, comfort

Word count : 1.01k

“Hey, you alright, kid?” Husk tilts his head to the side, wiping down the last glass of the day.

You don’t respond. Instead, you’re staring off into the distance, dozing off in your own world.

“Kid?”

“Huh? What?” You finally snap out of your thoughts.

“Geez, ya’ look like hell.” Husk acknowledges. “Are you sick?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I don’t think so?”

“Go rest. I’ll work alone today.”

“What? No! I’m fine I swear-” Before you’re able to finish your sentence, Husk flips you off.

“Bullshit. Go find your radio boyfriend.”

“Don’t bullshit me-”

You try arguing but Husk only smirks when he catches a glimpse of Alastor who’s appeared right behind you.

“Well, I just did.” He says. “Now stop being so stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn I-” 

You feel a hand being put to your forehead and try to fight back, only to realise it was Alastor.

“High fever.” He lets go. “You’re being stubborn.”

“Oh, fuck you, Al.”

“We’ll fuck when you’re better, darling.”

You blush. Alastor grins. Husk tries to hold in a laugh but ultimately fails.

“You’re sick and you need rest, my dear. Come along.”

“I’m fine-”

Alastor can only sigh, picking you up as you yelp.

“This is completely, and utterly, your fault single-handedly.” He smiled as you pouted. “You're very much welcome, darling.”

“Whatever.”

-----

You managed to escape Alastor as he leaves to mess with Vox. (Ep2 lmao)

Upon returning to the bar, Husk was not pleased to see your ass out of bed, emphasising on how important sleep was to someone sick.

You couldn’t care less.

Though, after wiping down a few more bottles with him, your eyes doze off and your eyelids feel droopy.

“Kid?”

The world spins and fades away.

“Fuck! Kid, ya’ alright?! Alastor!”

-----

[Alastor’s pov]

I heard a little groan as my eyes widened.

"Darling." I whispered, hoping not to startle her.

"Al..?" She breathed out.

"Good morning." I joked, though so grateful she was now awake.

"Wha.. What time is it?" She asked, struggling to get up.

"Be careful." I ushered, helping her sit. "I'm not so sure myself. It's very late at night."

"Where am I?" She asked, finally waking up as she stopped slurring through her words. 

"My room. ‘I’m not sick’ my arse." I replied.

"Oh. Well, I guess you and Husk were right. I just thought I was a little sick." She murmured. 

"You are sick." I replied. "Just worse than you expected."

"Real humorous, Al." She gave a small, yet weak, giggle.

Silence filled the air between us, and we didn't say anything else after that. That was, until she gave a small sneeze. I could tell she tried to suppress it, but seeing it was late at night and so quiet, it was hard not to notice.

"Are you cold?" I asked. I could barely make out the silhouette of her nodding lightly. Without hesitating, I took off my coat and handed it over to her. "Better?"

"A lot. Thanks, Al." She replied. After another few seconds of silence, she spoke up once more. "Why aren’t you asleep?"

"You do remember your dear partner does not need, nor does he enjoy, sleep?"

"Excuse, excuses." She joked, earning a chuckle from me.

"I can't really sleep now." She suddenly says out of nowhere. One thing I really like about this girl, she says the most random things in the most random situations. "Could we do something else?"

"Are you trying to get me killed?" I laughed. "You need to rest."

"I'm aware. That's the initial plan, anyways." She joked. At least, I hoped she was joking.

"You sneaky little deer."

"Yes. That's me. Hello." She replied, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed as she proceeded to look at me in the dark room. “Besides, it’s not like anyone here at the Hotel is actually powerful enough to kill you.”

"Very well, then. What do you have in mind?"

“Some jazz and cuddles would be nice.”

-----

She chokes on another cough.

"Are you sure you're alright? You should really rest in such vulnerable state."

"I'm," Another cough. "Fine. I swear."

"If you insist."

After a while, I turned to face her, worried she wasn't enjoying herself anymore, only to find her sound asleep, clinging lightly to my shirt. See? I told you were sleepy. You just refused to listen to me. I stopped and watched the girl, moving little by little, afraid of waking her up.

She looked so peaceful. Though, it wouldn't be the first time I find her sleeping in my presence. I tugged a small strand of hair behind her ear as she shifted a little. I immediately paused. Shit, had I woken her? Though she soon returned to her slumber and she curled up into a ball in front of me.

I suppose this would suffice.

"Goodnight, darling." I whispered softly, laying next to her in the bed. "See you in the morning."

-----

[2nd person]

You awoke early in the morning, feeling well rested. Your bed was awfully more comfortable than you had remembered. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, finally opening them for the first time, only to find that you weren't in your own room. It took you a while to let things simmer in.

That's when you heard snoring next to you.

You turned to find the Radio Demon cuddled into a ball next to you in bed sleeping oh so soundly. The poor man probably hadn't had sleep in days. Before you could process what was happening, you checked the time and realized you had to be back at the bar for work in 5 minutes. Not wanting to wake Alastor up, you left him a quick note to thank him and left.

----

The whole day passed and you never caught sight of Alastor. After closing the bar, you headed to Alastor’s room,hoping to find him there.

You stop at his door and break out a tiny laugh.

On the door, a rushed sign saying — Sick. Keep out.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #alastor #hazbin hotel season 1 #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin #alastor x reader #alastor altruist #alastor fluff #alastor x you #alastor headcanons #alastor hartfelt #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #husker #husk #alastor x y/n #sick reader #alastorpov

[mo49ko]

hiii first of all i love your art so much! it’s so pretty!!! secondly you give off the vibe of someone with superior taste in fan fiction so i wonder if you have any good fqmq recommendations? long modern aus have a special place in my heart but honestly i’d read pretty much anything about these two. anyways thanks for posting so much your art always brings me joy ily 🫶

omg thank you so much for your kind message!! 💖

i want to believe that i am someone with superior taste in fan fiction and will now wear this message as a badge of honour forever!! 🥹🥹

there are sooo many good ones but here are a few of my favourites with my thoughts on them!! please check out the fic pages for the actual summaries. there are a lot of modern AUs but no one is surprised!!

also i cant stand angst and refuse to read it so i hope u like happy endings 🤭🤭 there is literally nothing more exciting to me than reading about fengqing trying not to kill?? kiss??? each other while sharing a flat

NSFW ones are under the cut. i put the ones with no explicit sex under SFW but do read the tags/warnings!!

🏹 SFW FIC RECS

bound by destinies thread by muqingssaber

AU where mq is a tailor and fx works at the palace and gets a crush on him THEYRE SO SWEET!! there is also a lovely art that goes with this story so do check it out

mollycoddled by wanningcore

(modern AU) mq is sick and fx takes care of him. their interactions and reactions to each other are sooo well written...enjoyers of mq learning to let himself be loved this one is for you 🫡🫡

a drive to the heart by evan_dumpling2137

(modern AU) i love mq finding the most convoluted excuses ever to hang out with his...c...crush...

i crash into you (head on) by dreamagain

(modern AU) fengqing getting together by third wheeling hualian. i read this multiple times and threw my phone across my bed over how cute it is. i am OBSESSED with the last scene in particular but i don't want to spoil it so pls read🤭

take a piece of my heart and make it all your own by ruilian

THIS ONE IS HILARIOUS obsessed with the concept of mq asking hc for definitely-not-love advice

little beastie by Annabec

mq turns into a little kid and there is only one person who can...should...will take care of him and love him!!! guess who!!! it's so sweet and makes my heart warm

god of love, pei ming by jagaimocchi

(modern AU) for wingman pei ming enjoyers ITS SO FUN

Stuck Into Memory by tsuki_dango

(modern AU) mq with nipple piercings 👀

⚔️ NSFW FIC RECS

or you just saw me with my equations up by decis by xiaolongbaobei

FENG XIN/FU YAO !!! this fic rewired my brain i am so serious... i have not stopped thinking about it mostly because i am obsessed with the slight difference in personality between mq and fy in canon and i went into this for the nsfw but it's so well written and explores mq's complexed very well

not how i turned out to be by brosnyaa

(ABO) I rec this to everyone i know who even remotely knows who fengqing are!! for enjoyers of fx getting jealous over a misunderstanding but still wanting to respect his boundaries, pei ming being there, and most importantly... the 🔞🔞🔞

fengyao threadfic by doordaash (twitter)

hehe... more fengyao...

#moko recs #moko replies #ohmoonmybeloved #fengqing #if any of the authors are reading this.........i love u... #THIS GOT QUITE LONG i tried not to....rec every single thing i ever read........ #this is like my fengqing syllabus...........pls read them all and also tell the author they are the best..... #long post #IF ANYONE KNOWS ANY MORE SIMILAR TO THESE... U ARE ALWAYS WELCOME AND ENCOURAGED TO SHARE TO ME

[mangowillow]

maybe if

pairing: jungkook x female reader

summary: jeongguk, a free spirit, an adventurer, sees you a year later still picking up the pieces he left behind.

genre/tags: exes, angst, post-break-up, hurt & comfort, some fluff here and there

word count: 4k

a/n: i play favorites with my stories and i will say that this one sits on the throne— at least for now. there will be a mini-sequel for release soon (fingers crossed)

Walking into the club, Jeongguk feels his throat tighten. After being away for a year to figure out what he wanted to do in life, it wasn’t easy to just slide his way back into the lives of the people he once knew—

—into the lives of the people he once left behind.

The welcome back party his friends have thrown for him was nice. He hasn’t felt the company of familiarity in a while now. It was good to see them again— like nothing ever happened. Like he never left.

Backpacking across Europe, Jeongguk felt free and light. He has always wanted to see beyond the confines of his home, to see what’s out there, what’s waiting for him.

Yet in doing so, he also had to make sacrifices— ones he didn’t want.

Stepping out of the club, Jeongguk needed to breathe. He might have been in and out of festivals and parties during his stay abroad, but the stuffiness of a crowded club will always make him uncomfortable. As soon as he is out, he hears a pair of heels tap against the pavement.

To his right, he sees a man trying to support a woman by her waist, her heels making dull noises as they hit the cold pavement.

“Come on, beautiful, let me take you home.”

Jeongguk hears the woman groan and slur at her words seemingly drunk, “I don’t know you, can you just please let me go.”

He recognizes that voice.

“My place is just a few blocks away, we’ll be there in no—”

“She told you to let her go.”

The man whirs behind him, only to see Jeongguk standing too close to where he is.

“Let her go,” Jeongguk says as his jaw slacks.

“And who are you?” the man sneers.

“Her boyfriend. Do you have a problem with that?”

The man chuckles and huffs, “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not going to ask you again,” Jeongguk’s voice is now lower than it’s supposed to be. “Let her go.”

The man raises his arms in surrender, causing the woman to stumble all on her own. Jeongguk is quick to not let her fall on her own feet.

“Walk away.”

Jeongguk is honestly ready to fight if he has to, seeing that the man tensed and looked like he was about to pounce. Luckily, he didn’t. Jeongguk watches him stride back inside the club before looking at the woman.

He would recognize you anywhere.

Your hair is longer and you dyed it a light brown. Your eyes still shine, even though they look tired. You are still beautiful.

And very much drunk.

When you finally had enough strength to look into the eyes of the stranger who seems to have saved your ass, recognition dawns on you.

“Shit, I need to stop taking sleeping pills. For a second there, I thought you were my ex.”

Jeongguk swallows the lump forming in his throat, “____, it’s me.”

As soon as you hear his voice, your will to become more lucid has never been stronger.

“W-ait wha—? J-jeongguk?”

“Are you with anyone? They should know that you’re out here,” When you don’t respond, Jeongguk continues, “You’re drunk, ____. If you’re with someone inside—-”

You pull your arm away from him, slightly stumbling backward.

“I a-am not with… anyone. No—” You started to stumble once more, causing Jeongguk to hold onto your waist.

“Okay, come on, let’s get you home.”

“I am not going home with you,” you mumble.

“You’ve had enough to drink.”

“That— that is true,” you sloppily agreed, your head bobbing to the side, resting on Jeongguk’s shoulder.

“Okay then, the night’s over for you, let’s go.”

Surprisingly, you do not put up much of a fight. Jeongguk ushers you to his car and gently placed his palm on top of your head to prevent you from hitting your head on the car door frame. Getting into the car himself, he reaches across you to fasten your seatbelt. He can smell the alcohol on you, yet once the honey and lavender notes of your shampoo invade his senses, he has to keep himself from pulling you into a tight embrace.

Fuck, he misses you.

You shifted in the passenger seat as Jeongguk started the engine. “I need to know where you live, ____”

You lay your head back onto the headrest and mumble, “You know where I live.”

For a while, Jeongguk couldn’t move. He didn’t want to believe it. You must have sensed his body grow tense because you turn to look at him, eyes half-lidded but enough to tell Jeongguk about the sadness lingering.

“I still live there.”

The car ride back to your place was a quiet one. You seem to have fallen into a light sleep, occasionally stirring when Jeongguk stopped at a light or when he took a turn. He still knows the way to the apartment—- almost like muscle memory, like the back of his hand. As he listens to the sound of your breathing, his thoughts are all over the place.

What were you doing in a club all alone?

Why do you still live in our old apartment?

Why do you look like you’re still hurting?

Jeongguk tries his best to help you get into the apartment in one piece. You being drunk isn’t something new to him, not really. When you were still together, there were nights when he had to do the same thing—- take you back home safely.

Jeongguk wanted to chuckle at the irony but quickly realize that the only difference now is that you’re no longer his.

Not only does Jeongguk know what kind of drunk you are—- the quiet one—- he also knows that you require, at all costs, a shower before lying on the bed because you hate the idea of alcohol and smoke touching your sheets. He knew you’d throw a fit when you didn’t get your shower.

He watches you stumble your way through the dark surroundings of the apartment, trying to find the light switch. When you finally find it and light helped illuminate the room, Jeongguk feels his chest ache. A quick look around the apartment tells him everything and nothing has changed since he left. He is quickly pulled out of his thoughts when he hears a dull thump.

“Shit.”

He sees you rub on your leg right after it hit the kitchen counter and he quickly rushes to your side. As he was about to lead you into the master bedroom, he feels you resist.

“That’s not where I sleep.” Jeongguk looks at you, all puzzled until you try to redirect him to the other side of the hallway.

Jeongguk’s heart drops upon realizing one of the changes in the apartment since he left—- you now sleep in the room that was once his own small photography and video-editing room.

“M— I’m going to take a s-show—er,” you tried to say coherently, but your tongue still felt like lead.

“Do you need any help?”

You shake your head and stumble, “M’ fine…”

“I’ll be here if you need me.”

You seem to nod your head, at least that’s what Jeongguk likes to think. As soon as the bathroom door closed, Jeongguk allows his eyes to wander around the room.

The walls still hold the same hue, there was now a small bonsai sitting on the window sill. The bed you sleep on holds the same familiarity and it grips at his heart—- it’s the same bed where you both whispered promises of love to one another in the middle of the night, the same bed where you both made love as two souls intertwined, the same bed where you held each other through good and bad. Tears threaten to prick at Jeongguk’s eyes. He didn’t expect his first night back to turn out this way, didn’t anticipate he’d run into you and see you moving on yet also holding on to everything you both once shared.

The whole time, Jeongguk listens intently for any sign of you on the other side of the door, ready to help you if you need it. When he heard a loud clank, he jumped to the door but hesitated last minute. He heard you curse.

With one hand on the doorknob, he knocked, “_____? Are you okay?” When no response came, he tried again, “I’m coming in, okay?”

When he opens the bathroom, he finds you sitting on the floor, a green bottle with its contents spilled out onto the floor. Jeongguk immediately kneels before you, holding your face in his hands.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Your eyes start to droop, the effects of alcohol still kicking in. “M’fine, I just—- I think I wasted a whole bottle of toner because I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, ____. It was an accident.”

His words made the corner of your lip twitch and you hummed. Jeongguk helped you up and carried you to the bathroom counter.

This was another familiar setting between you and Jeongguk—- him helping you with your skincare after taking a shower, especially when you’re too inebriated to do it yourself. Picking up the bottle of your toner, he smiled, “There’s still some left.” He grabbed a piece of face pad and dabbled the toner onto your skin. Your eyes fall close and sigh as soon as his fingers did their work.

Jeongguk misses seeing your facial features relax under his touch. In the past, he used to see you smile even just a little bit as he ran the tips of his fingers, trying to get all that serum in. He misses this quiet intimacy you both shared.

He opens the medicine cabinet and found your moisturizer. He squeezed a bit of it onto the back of his hand before gently rubbing circles across your cheeks, forehead, and neck.

“Jeongguk I’m so sleepy…”

“We’re almost done, love.”

The term of endearment naturally slips and Jeongguk immediately looks at you to see if you picked it up. His heart swells at the sight of you—- glowing, whispering a soft agreement, almost like you’re giving him your full trust. If you had heard what he just addressed you with, you were good at hiding your reaction.

Jeongguk helps you settle in for bed, tucking you in under the soft blankets. As he smoothens out the creases in different places, he hears you whisper his name.

He didn’t expect tears to stream down your face as you look at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Hey, hey… _____ what’s wrong, why are you crying?”

He knows how you tend to get emotional during those rare moments you get really drunk—- that was another thing that bothered him since he saw you back at the club. You only get drunk when you’re really, really trying to escape from something.

He wipes your tears using his knuckles, “_____ please don’t cry.”

“Did you… did you find what you were looking for?”

Jeongguk knows what you were trying to ask and his heart aches because you haven’t forgotten, “What do you mean?”

“Did you get to experience a good life, Jeongguk? Because—- because it’s all I ever wanted for you…”

Your eyes were starting to close, almost fully succumbing to sleep. Jeongguk allowed his own tears to fall.

“Why aren’t you answering?”

Jeongguk tried his best not to sob right there and then, “Hmm. I did experience good things.”

It took you a while to respond and for a minute, Jeongguk thought you had already fallen asleep. “Was I ever enough?”

Jeongguk feels his whole body tense and freeze, his fingers stopping in the middle of caressing your cheek.

“Was I ever enough for you?”

There have been a lot of things you had wanted to ask Jeongguk in the past but didn’t get to. Jeongguk knew now that he could have done a lot of things differently—- that he could have chased his dreams without letting you go.

“You have always been more than enough for me, ____.”

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes, “I’m glad—- I’m glad life has been kind to you.” You try to fight off the sleep because even in the state you are in, you still manage to see how Jeongguk tries his best to fight off his tears. You slowly lifted your hand to reach out and touch his face. “You deserve to be happy, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk holds your hand in his, kissing your palm as he cries. There are a lot of things he could have done differently in the past—- and that includes not losing you and making you sad as you have been since he left. He cried for you— the only person who made life worth living. He cried for the both of you— the only good thing in his life that he ruined.

You wake up with the sunlight peeking through the blinds. The first thing you felt was your throbbing headache. You couldn’t remember how you even managed to come home last night. You went into the club to have some fun, maybe look for a good time, all because you wanted to do anything except wallow. You tried sitting up, realizing there is already a glass of water and aspirin on the bedside table— you definitely do not recall putting both of those there. You were almost finished drinking the whole glass when you heard the sound of plates and cutlery outside your room. You don’t remember bringing anyone home last night, no no no.

The moment you step into your kitchen, you see someone with their back to you finding their way around the pots and stove.

You recognize those broad shoulders.

“Uh… hello?”

Jeongguk slightly jumps at the sound of your voice. His features relax when he realizes you’ve woken up.

“Good morning, ____”

“Y-you’re here.”

“I’m here,” Jeongguk whispered, holding his breath.

“H-how did you—” Goddamn, you really need to stop drinking so much.

“I ran into you last night at the club. You were trying to get away from someone and I told them to fuck off.”

“O–oh.”

Jeongguk placed the cutlery on either side of the bowl, “Come, I made you some hangover soup.”

You timidly made your way to the kitchen counter, trying to wrack your brain as to what happened last night.

“I can hear you thinking, ____.”

“Did I— Did I say anything… last night?” You weren’t one for dilly-dallying, you have always been straightforward with Jeongguk. You were also like that the night he left.

Jeongguk didn’t respond right away and proceeded to pour another serving of soup onto a bowl. “No, not anything significant. Although, you did drop your new bottle of toner onto the bathroom floor.”

He hears you groan almost immediately. When he turns around, you had your head in your hands. “That was a new bottle of toner.”

“I know, you said so last night.” Biting your lip, he added, “I can swing by the store and buy you a new one.”

You continue to just look at Jeongguk, eyes turning glassy. You don’t remember everything you said last night, but you do recall Jeongguk crying.

“It wasn’t insignificant.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“What did we talk about last night, Jeongguk?”

“____, you need to eat first. You haven’t eaten anything since last night, I think.”

“No, Jeongguk. I asked you a question.”

Jeongguk knows this isn’t a battle he could win. Since last night, everything about you and him has been unconventional and this isn’t how he planned on meeting you again.

“You asked me if I found what I was looking for. I said I did, I had a good time… you also asked me if you were ever enough for me. I answered yes, _____. I will never stop saying it until you believe it. You have always been more than enough for me.”

Your hands were on the counter's edge, ready to stand and leave, “That’s unfair, Jeongguk. You do not mean that.”

“Why? Why is it so hard to believe?” Jeongguk briefly closed his eyes, reminding himself to not lose his cool because that stubbornness was one of the things that tore you both apart. “Look, _____. When I saw you last night, you were almost taken advantage of by some sleazeball. You never drink that much unless there’s a reason, but when I tried asking you if you were with anybody else, you told me there wasn’t. Since when did you start drinking alone at clubs? You could have gotten hurt—-”

“You don’t have any right to care about me, Jeongguk. You should have just left me there.”

“I know I lost that right a long time ago, but I can’t help it. You were once my girlfriend, _____, I cannot just leave you.”

The scoff you let out tore at Jeongguk. “You already left me once, Jeongguk. Surely it isn’t hard to do it the second time around.”

Jeongguk stands up to come near you, but you flinch. His heart aches once again.

“Now that’s unfair, _____,” Jeongguk closes his eyes for a fleeting moment, trying to temper the pain in his own heart, “You have every right to be angry with me—-”

“I am not angry, Jeongguk, I am in pain,” you try to level your voice despite wanting to scream, “I am still hurting so much and you put me here.” Your tears were now uncontrollable. “You were supposed to be the one person I could turn to when things became hard. Since you left, I tried to understand what I did wrong, what I did so bad enough for you to just up and leave.”

You turn your back on Jeongguk because looking at him is becoming too painful for you to bear. Your tongue is faster than your thoughts, threatening to spill every single ounce of pain you have kept in for far too long. You bite your lip in an attempt to stop talking, but then a small sob comes out instead.

“Shit, this isn’t supposed to be happening, I was already trying to move on from everything and I just—-” you bite on your bottom lip again before turning back to face him, “Did you know that it was supposed to be our third year anniversary yesterday?”

The gears in Jeongguk’s head started to turn; once more, he failed to remember. He failed you.

“I loved you so much, Jeongguk. But you broke my heart so much I can’t even bear to see you—” Jeongguk runs and catches you just before your knees gave in.

None of your fights with Jeongguk were this emotionally driven before. This is completely new territory to both of you and now you’re drowning in it. Jeongguk held you in his arms as you continue to sob, still too exhausted to push him away this time.

“I’m sorry, ____, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I was wrong to leave you behind. I should have just asked you to come with me, but I didn’t. I was selfish and I didn’t want to drag you down with me just because I didn’t know what I want. I’m sorry, ____, I know it isn’t enough to fix anything, but I really am sorry for hurting you like this.”

Both of you stay like that on the floor for a while, holding each other, not knowing what is going to happen next. Jeongguk cradles your head as close as you allow him as he cries tears of his own. He used to know how to comfort you, how to take care of you when you were upset.

This time around he doesn’t know how to do any of that because he knows he is the cause of your misery.

You open your eyes to a dim room. As you slowly come to, the argument with Jeongguk at breakfast came rushing back. With rain making itself known through the sounds of its downfall on your bedroom window, you realize Jeongguk was beside you— head laid on the edge of the bed, sleeping. You bring a hand up to remove the stray hairs that clouded his tired features. It’s been a year, you thought. Yet Jeongguk still looks peaceful despite the more evident circles under his eyes.

It’s been a year and Jeongguk found you again.

Tracing his cheek with your fingers didn’t last long because Jeongguk’s eyes slowly opened. Despite the tension from earlier, you didn’t feel the need to pull your hand away. Jeongguk turned his head to face you, chin resting on his hand.

“Hi,” Jeongguk whispered.

“Hey,” you replied, “It’s uncomfortable down there.”

Jeongguk carefully shook his head. “I only closed my eyes for a while, trying to listen to the rain.”

“It calms you.” You supplied.

“And you remember,” Jeongguk murmured with silent glee in his heart.

“Of course I do,” you said, giving him a small smile.

“I’m sorry, ____.”

“I know you are. I know. It’s not wrong to want things for yourself… to find yourself.”

“But it doesn’t change the fact that I left you for wanting those things. I could have handled it better,” Jeongguk defended.

You find yourself nodding, “I understand why you had to leave, Jeongguk. I didn’t want to be the one to hold you back from experiencing the good things in life,” you take a deep breath, “Even if that does not include me.”

Jeongguk moved to sit on the bed with you and gently held your hands. Looking up at you, he finally sees the stars in your eyes once more. They’re barely there— they have lost their light, but maybe he can still fix it.

“There are so many things I wasn’t able to tell you… not after we left things the way we did. I walked out on you, ____. You can’t let me off so easily for that… But I do want to make things right, somehow. If you will let me.”

You keep your eyes trained on your hands, the one being held the love of your life. If you really have to ask yourself, nothing has really changed about your feelings for Jeongguk. You still love him, deep down you know that.

“Hey, ____?” Jeongguk asked tentatively. You hum in response as you finally look at him.

“Why didn’t you move out? I mean—- the lease was up days before… before I left, and I just—”

“It was a hard decision at first,” you supplied, gripping Jeongguk’s hands just a bit tighter, “But I realized I didn’t want to move out. Honestly, I just really missed you and I’m reminded of it every single day when I’m here. But somehow, it also helped keep me going. Even though we didn’t end things well, I still wanted to hold on to what was left. I moved into your old studio because I wanted to feel close to you even though you’re no longer here. Deep down, I knew I didn’t resent you for leaving. It hurt like hell, I’m not denying that. But It also made me feel proud of you because you were finally achieving your dreams.”

Jeongguk reached out to cradle your face in his hand, “Why are you still so kind to me, _____? After all I’ve done to you?”

“You’re the only person who has ever made me feel happy,” you held his hand in yours as a tear trickled down your cheek, “I never stopped wishing for your happiness, Jeongguk. I want you to know that.”

“Can I— can we still work things out between us, ____? Will you let me make it up to you? I know it won’t be easy, but I am willing to do everything I can to mend us. Will you let me, ____?”

You reached out to wipe the tears that stained Jeongguk’s cheeks once more, “I would love that, Jeongguk.”

“I love you, _____. You— you don’t have to say it back, I just really want you to know that I love you so much… and I will wait for you for as long as you’ll have me…”

You lean forward to plant a soft kiss on Jeongguk’s forehead. With all the love in the world, you hope that for now, this will help him feel that you’re just as willing to wait for him, too.

“I love you too, Jeongguk. I always have.”

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