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fieldofdaisiies · 21 hours

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Broken Crown

pairing: Eris Vanserra x reader | type: angsty | words: 3,3k words | warnings: topics like pregnancy and kidnapping someone while pregnant are discussed as well as bad family relationships; based on this request

“Share your worries with me, my love.” Your hand tenderly caresses his arm, feeling his tense muscles beneath the tips of your fingers. “You shouldn’t carry the burden of them all alone.”

Eris‘ shoulders rise and fall with a deep inhale, and slowly he turns his head to you. There is a small, sad smile on his lips. His eyes close, and you can see the pain, the worry, etched upon his face.

His hand lifts and comes to rest on the barely-there bump of your belly. “I worry about you, my love,” he says, his voice nothing more than a whisper. “This,” —he flexes his fingers, before softly pressing down just the tiniest bit— “put you in more danger than you can ever imagine.”

Your hand folds over his. “I know that it could get dangerous.” You sit up in bed and Eris‘ hand falls to your thigh. “But only if Beron finds out. We will be careful, we have been careful for so long. He won’t know.”

Eris wants to believe you. He desperately does, but it is so damn hard. You are his mate and in your womb you carry his child. There is nothing but worry in his mind, his whole body in a constant state of fear for you two.

“And even if he found out, I could always run and escape and you would protect me.” You lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder. “Don‘t worry so much, my mate, and rather enjoys these fleeting moments we can share.” Turning your head a little, you kiss his arm. “We only have this time together, please, try to make the best of it.”

Eris sighs, but silently agrees and lies down in bed with you, his arm curled around you, his other hand once again resting on your belly, thumb stroking idly over your belly. Your shirt has risen a bit, and Eris used the chance to place his palm right on top of your skin, his warmth the most soothing thing to exist in this world.

“I can’t wait for Beron to be gone and for us to be able to love each other openly.” He turns his face to you and kisses your brow. “And I cannot wait to watch our little babe grow up. I know they will be as beautiful as their mother.”

“And their father,” you chime in and a small grin appears on your lips. Your mate chuckles and it makes his chest vibrate beneath you.

He holds you for the rest of the night, always close, always tight. You know he doesn’t sleep. No for a single moment. Eris often finds it hard to fall asleep, or to sleep through or to feel enough at ease to entertain the thought of sleep.

In your early face of seeing each other he has slept well, telling you you brought him enough comfort to do so. It all changed when the mating bond snapped, and especially when you got pregnant. He hasn’t had a moment of rest since then, you think. And that hurts you, and you also feel guilty.

————————

The moment Eris leaves your secret meeting place in the morning, he covers her scent. Beron can’t be able to detect anything. To make sure you are safe, he also strengthens the shield he has put over you, covering both your pregnancy and any kind of small ounce of Eris‘ scent that should cling to you.

He smooths a hand over his long hair and i hales deeply, worry and uncertainty making his chest feel a little too tight.

With a heavy heart, he returns to the First House, not able to meet his father’s gaze while they eat dinner in silence.

“Where have you been all night?” Beron asks and in the corner of his eye, Eris‘ notices how his mother‘s posture stuffs, her fingers curling tightly around her fork.

“Out.” Eris is tight, and quick. Maybe a tang too quick.

Beron drops his fork with a snarl. “I have noticed as much. But where exactly have you been.”

Eris swallows thickly, the piece of meat he has just eaten almost getting stuck in his throat. Taking a gulp of water, he clears his throat. “I checked on the war camp—”

“Which one?”

“Thundercliff.”

Beron dips his chin to his chest and forks a piece of potatoes, chewing it with his mouth half open. “What did you want there?”

“See if everything was alright.”

“You slept there?”

Eris nods. “I did.”

Beron says nothing, only turns his attention back to his plate.

For the rest of the dinner, his father doesn’t talk to him anymore, or care about him, too focused on his food to even deign his son another glance.

Or so Eris thinks…

—————————

Two days have passed and Eris is sitting on needles. His fingers nervously drum an unsteady rhythm on his knee, his chest rising and falling with deep intakes of air.

You are always on time. You have not once been late in all the time you have known each other. Where the hell are you now?

His heartbeat picks up, the organ now hammering against his ribs. Eris feels how dread coils within him.

Where could you be?

Of course worry kicks in immediately, a myriad of thoughts bubbling up about something awful having happened to you. Maybe you were caught, maybe some medical issues, maybe Beron—

He won’t allow his thoughts to go there. There probably is a good explanation for why you are late. Maybe you got held up, maybe you weren’t feeling too, maybe you simply forgot.

Eris lets himself fall back onto the bed, groaning loudly. His heart is still racing, his skin clammy with cold sweat, fear and panic curling around his heart like a vice.

He could go looking for you, but worries that would only get you into more danger. He can’t go home to you — no one knows about your relationship. If the heir to the Autumn Court would suddenly show up at your home, word would spread quickly and this would end fataö for you. He can’t risk it.

All he can do is wait. And hope. Hope that you will arrive shortly and that you are unharmed.

It is what he does — waiting, while being plagued by thoughts and ideas of all the terrible things that could have happened to you.

He needs to find you, his father and the people who gossip about you two be damned.

Eris waits a moment longer, really making sure you are not arriving and by the time he gives up, the sun has already set behind the horizon, the Autumn Court now bathed in endless darkness.

Eris heads back home with a heavy heart, always on the look-out to catch sight of you, a trace or some hint of your whereabouts.

He needs to get his hound, give them your trace, and then let them help him find you.

In moments like these, he wishes he wouldn’t have had to glamour the bond. He could simply tug at it and be led to you — but he can’t. Not with the magic he used to cover any small hint of it.

It would make things so much easier, but Eris knows that life isn’t easy for him, and has never been. That is not how it is supposed to be, his life was never meant to be simple — his fate was doomed the moment he was born.

Breathing heavily and with his heart hurting painfully,, Eris eventually returns to the Forest House after waiting for hours. If he doesn’t hear from you until the morning, he will go look, no matter the consequences.

The door falls shut behind him with a loud thump. It doesn’t startle him, he is too wrapped up in his worries to even notice.

But one person in the Forest House does definitely notice.

“Eris!” Beron’s low voice hollows through the empty, cold corridors and it sends a shiver down the heir‘s spine — Beton is enraged, Eris can hear that in his voice.

His eyes close and he doesn’t want to move forward, already having an inkling of what might expect him and he could never accept it.

If something happened to you, he would forever blame himself. And if you…the Mother forbid — he isn’t able to finish his thought. But without you in his life, he wouldn’t want to live on. He couldn’t do so. His heart would be in pieces, nothing but bloody, broken shards.

“Father,” he says and bows his head low, after the whole way to the end of the corridor where Beron‘s office is situated, has become a blur.

Slowly, the High Lord lifts his gaze from the table and a viscous grin splits his dry lips.

“Such a pretty little thing you have found yourself,” he drawls. “But she is nothing more than pretty and unfortunately lower fae.”

Eris fingers curl towards his palms while his whole body feels like caving in, his heart cracking open.

“Nothing more than a piece of trash — in other words, scum. And I won‘t allow my sons to fool around with that kind of fae, hasn’t the thing with Lucien taught you anything?”

“What did you do?” Eris shouts and panic rolls through him.

“I took care of her so you wouldn’t have to bother with her any longer.”

He didn’t kill her, that is for sure, Eris still feels the bond. But Beron touched her, hurt her and he will pay for that.

“You hurt her!” Eris spits, a fury coats his insides, making him see red.

“I am not such a cruel beast, since she finds herself with a…child I didn’t touch her. Mostly. And I assume it's yours?” Beron raises a brow, but gives Eris no chance to say anything as the answer is clear as water anyway. “Matters will take care of themselves though and neither of them will be a problem for you in the future — not the slut, nor the little bastard..” A sadistic smile replaces the former expression on his face.

Eris would kill him straightaway, but he needs Beton to tell him where you are. He can’t find you otherwise and you would…

“Where is she?” Eris dashes to Beron’s desk, his hands slamming down on the wooden surfaces. “You will tell me where she is! I demand it!”

Eris once again tugs at the bond but gets no answer. Nothing but cool silence from your side. You are surely hidden somewhere by Beron’s magic, somewhere where Eris will never be able to find you without Beron telling him. It could take days, weeks, months and that is too long. Too dangerous.

“Tell me!” he shouts again when Beton says nothing.

Beron tips his head back and roars with laughter. Once calm again, he says, “You demand it? As much as I remember I am the High Lord and your nothing more than a little—”

“I invoke the Blood Duel.” He is driven by fury and fear — a lethal combination.

The temperature in the room drops at least ten degrees and outside thunder strikes. Never in the history of the Autumn Court has ever a son invoked a Blood Duel against their father, and certainly not against the High Lord. This is about to change now.

“You are a fool, Eris Vanserra, think about the consequences.”

“I invoked the Blood Duel — you and me, a battle to death.” Eris straightens his posture, staring down at his father who is still sitting at his desk, now stiff as a pole. Eris is sure a flicker of hesitation and maybe also fear passes over his father‘s face, knowing what his son is capable of.

Slowly, a smirk spreads over Beron’s face and he reaches his hand out. “I accept.”

—————

The sun has barely risen, only merely peeking forward from behind thick clouds in the sky, bathing the Autumn Court forest in a soft yellowish glow.

Eris takes the last sip from his small flask when a knock sounds on his door. He places the small bottle down, and smoothes his hands down his jacket and his breeches.

“Lord Eris, it’s time,” a sentry calls.

“Coming!” the heir answers. His hand grasps his knife, the one made by Nesta Archeron, tightly and then he sets out.

Everything is going to change today if he is leaving this duel as its victor. The whole fate of the Autumn Court lies in his hands now. Beron has to fall, Eris has to win. When it is over he will find you, save you and proclaim you as his mate in front of all the Autumn Court. He will be the High Lord and you his High Lady.

The moment he steps outside, and the cool morning air greets him, he can hear hollowing and cheering — not for him, but for his father who is probably already strutting around the place where the duel will take place like a proud peacock.

Eris feels a knot tightening in his stomach, his heart almost pounding out if his chest. It is not the wish of becoming High Lord that drives him forward, but the fear about what happened to you and your whereabouts. He doesn’t care about anything else, he only needs to find you. And having to kill his own father…not an easy task, but one that needs to be taken earlier or later anyway. One he is willing to take for you.

Blood is thicker than water, is the saying. But you are his mate, and nothing is stronger than that.

Eris feels his throat tightening with anxiety, but drawing in a few deep inhales, he manages to calm himself a little and then moves into the glade, the open space for the duel, around which many Autumn Court citizens are already gathered.

“Father!” he greets, and can see the colour visibly drain from Beron‘s face when the High Lord turns to him. Beron had most definitely thought Eris would put his tail between his legs and would not show up.

But Eris Vanserra is no coward. And he will win this today. For you and the future of this court.

And so he mounts his horse, lance in one hand, shield in the other, and enters into a duel of life and death. And that against his own father.

Beron lands the first strike, but other than a small gash, his attack doesn’t do much harm. Very much to the High Lord’s surprise, Eris thinks, because he knows exactly that Beron dipped his lance in faebane, playing unfairly.

He can’t see his father’s face behind the bronze helmet but he knows confusion is etched upon his face.

Eris was smarter, he took the antidote against faebane before entering into this duel, already knowing his father’s foul tricks.

Beron lands the second strike as well. But then it is Eris' turn. He lands the third, the fourth and the fifth and when lifts his lance a sixth time, Beron slides off his horse, slumping to the ground.

Eris dismounts his own horse, stalking towards where his father is lying on the ground, not lifeless but something close to this state. Eris stares down at him and slowly Beron’s eyes open in disgust.

“I take this as you give in?” Eris points the tip of his sword that he has pulled out from the leather strap around his waist at his father. He can’t take a risk now.

“You should be dead by now.” His lips part in a snarl.

“Well, as you can see, I am not.” Eris knows that the crowd gathered around them is holding its breath. This is a monumental event — a duel that decides over the future of this court and who the next High Lord will be.

The answer is simple: Eris. He won the duel. Beron lost.

“But…” Blood starts to spill from Beron’s mouth when he begins to shake his head. “The—”

“The faeban?” Eris raises a brow. “I knew you wouldn’t play fair, father. I took the antidote just in case.” Now Eris is the one grinning. He quickly tips his head at two warriors, signaling them to pick up his father. They follow his order, probably having already noticed the shift in power.

“I won’t do you the honour of making this quick. You deserve to rot in the dungeons for all you've done to me, to mother and my brothers.” Eris sheaths his sword with a loud rasps. Then he steps into his father, now held up by two warriors, and presses his forehead against his father’s. “And now, as your High Lord, I demand you tell me where my mate is!”

—————

“Darling!” Carefully, Eris lifts you into his arms and cradles you tightly. Your body immediately reacts to him, and you feel yourself relaxing. All is good now, and you are safe.

Your mate is here, and all is good although you notice a shift in power.

Eris‘ heart is hammering so rapidly, you can feel it through his body. He is out of breath, and crying and holds onto you as if his own life depends on it.

This is the moment where you realise that your life means more to him than his own and a sob parts your lips, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“You found me,” you cry, and brush your palm up his chest, resting it on his shoulder. “You came to find me.”

“You are my mate, my love, I would always find you.” He leans in, resting his forehead against yours. “I would cross the seven seas for you, climb every mountain and fight every imaginable beast. You are my mate I would conquer Hel itself for you.”

His lips brush yours in a light kiss, and tears start to spill from your eyes. You blink rapidly, when you notice light at the end of the endless and dark corridor and there is also—

Cheering and barking, loud chatter and laughter fill the air around you when you step outside the place you have been trapped in.

You don’t understand, but Eris is quick to offer an explanation that would pull the rug from under your feet if you were standing. It leaves you speechless, your mouth wide open in surprise, but it is pride and utter love that outrules all the other emotions.

“I am the new High Lord of this court, and from now on a better time will begin. I will rule with understanding and respect for my loyal subjects, alongside my High Lady and wife.”

He kisses your brow and then grins at the cheering mass of people gathered, their joy tangible in the air. And so is Eris — his heart, your hand resting atop his chest, beating steadily and happily within his chest.

His High Lady!

——————

The first thing after his first official announcement as High Lord is that Eris summons six healers to check on you. You are trying to tell him that one is enough, but Eris doesn’t want to hear any of it.

He stays while they check on you and the baby, always observing them with an eagle’s gaze until the relief comes and you are told that both you and the babe are fine and no damage has been done to either of you.

“It’s all going to be good now,” Etis mumbles, leaning his head against yours that is resting on his shoulder.

“High Lord and Lady.” You beam, and turn your head making Eris lift his own. You lock eyes with him and then kiss him. “I love you, my High Lord.“

“I love you more, my High Lady.”

tags: @sunshinebingo @tarataraaaa @brekkershadowsinger @azriels-mate123 @mandziaaa @cosmic-whispers @mali22 @elsie-bells @imma-too-many-fandoms @kuraikei @ginnyweasley06 @bubnix @powerfulpantera @secret-third-thing

#eris x reader #eris #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #acotar #acosf #eris x you

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auteurdelabre · 12 hours

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Please, Mister Miller? SERIES FINALE

rating: 18+ GET OUTTA HERE YOUNGIN'S!

words: 13.5k

tags: none. Don't want any spoilers for this chapter!

a/n: Y'all this entire series started with me wanting to try my hand at writing pwp with a despicable lead character. It morphed into a story of finding love in the most unexpected places and the pain that comes with infidelity. It was a challenge for me to do a believable character arc for them, to get you to root for them, to make you feel for them. It was a delight to read your input, your suggestions and to see how invested y'all became. So this is my love letter to you, hopefully a fitting final chapter for these two horny idiots.

love, Emma

ppppsssssstttttt if you wanna be nice and send a broke writer some cash because you like her writing and her stories, the paypal addy is [email protected] because ko-fi is givin me a headache.

The End with Mister Miller

In September the leaves fall in Central Park, brown, lifeless and curled into themselves. You think you recognize that in them. That dead, emptiness, the need to pull into yourself and wither away.

Life doesn’t feel real anymore.

It hasn’t since August.

Without him (you won’t allow yourself to think of his name) life seems slow and hazy. Like walking through the world with a headache. Things blur and ripple and don’t seem particularly real.

School is the only thing that saves you. A chance to focus all your attention on something that isn’t him and his beautiful face, and soft curls and sweet mouth. Something that isn’t his muscled arms holding you as he slides between your legs to bring you pleasure. Something that isn’t his voice in your ear whispering how much he loves you.

You think you will mourn Joel for years. You will wear black and trudge from place to place, looking down in the mouth with red-rimmed eyes and a gaping hole where your heart used to be.

No, don’t even think his name.

School is papers and tests and online discussion groups. You throw yourself into the academic life, your essays are well received, your professors are impressed and your peers find you likeable during zoom classes. You enjoy being the one with the answers in this space because outside of it you have none.

How did it go so wrong? How are you not with him in his arms right now? How can you get Sarah to forgive you when she’s blocked you on everything? How can you survive another month without him? Without holding his hand in yours? Without feeling the rumble of his laugh along your back as he held you?

New York is a good place for the lonely hearts though. It’s a big, unforgiving city that doesn’t give a fuck if you live or die. The city doesn’t care if you struggle to pay your rent and go to school at the same time. The city devours as much as it gives. It’s cold and unforgiving to transient residents, to those looking for anonymity within its concrete jungle. And you relish that. You like that no one knows you, that you can disappear into a crowd, that no one cares.

You deserve that.

You helped break up a marriage. You broke your best friend’s heart. You broke broke broke. You stole what wasn’t yours and you relished in it. You fucked him in every inch of that house and you rejoiced in a love that was never yours to have.

Your apartment is cramped, shared with two other girls who work more hours than they spend inside. You don’t care, you don’t deserve friends. You want the only true friend you ever had to be back in your life. But that won’t happen.

Food is bland, the sporadic sunshine days meaningless, your existence a joke.

And it doesn’t get better for a while.

///

October is much of the same.

///

By November your savings are quickly being drained. The money from scholarships enough to keep you afloat at school but not enough to pay rent which has just been increased. You get a second overnight job at a convenience store to go along with your part time work at the coffee shop by your apartment. You work late into the night, early into the mornings, you write, you study, you collapse into a fitful sleep and then you repeat.

You have enough for little luxuries, things like the shampoo you always favored. The one that he once told you smelled like Christmas as he trailed his hands through your tresses, watching you read on his lap with eyes so soft you sighed.

Food still tastes bland so you don’t bother with fancy things. You keep things cheap so you don’t run out of money. You eat packaged pasta, noodles, soups. You’re bloated, your eyes swollen from the salt and your tears. You still cry.

You don’t know if you ever stopped.

You touch yourself to memories of Joel fleetingly. You rarely orgasm. Arousal seems to be missing from most of your days. As if without Joel all the sensations that once brought you joy have been drained from your body, replaced with a poison that turns everything shades of grey.

You don’t let yourself think about him. But one day he makes himself known. A simple e-mail sent from an address you don’t recognize. The message is short, simple and devastating.

Before I die I want to hold Snowflake one last time.

You’ve deleted his phone number. Blocked his e-mail address from Miller Construction. But this wasn’t on your radar. You hadn’t thought of the ways he could circumvent your pathetically inadequate system.

You don’t write back. You can’t. It won’t solve anything. Sarah is still there at his place. You know from stalking her public Instagram from a brand new account. She looks happy, does outfit of the day videos, makes lots of posts about missing Charlie. But the story videos you watch again and again are the ones she films at home. The ones of her sitting with a bowl of popcorn on her lap, a movie in the background. A large masculine hand- Joel’s- reaches for a handful. You read the hashtag. #mydadpickstheworstmovies

You remember those nights. That couch, that television. You remember evenings curled up against Joel laughing into his shoulder at something funny on the screen. You remember giggling with Sarah in that room about secretly dating Charlie.

You’re happy to see her wither her father, to know that things have been mended. There is no awkwardness, no strange energy. It’s like they’ve always been – best buddies. It warms you, it brings tears of joy to your cheeks. It’s what you’d wanted, what you’d dreamed of. It’s not quite like you and Joel never happened, but its close enough.

A story pops up when you’re falling asleep one evening, eyes heavy with fatigue. Sarah is walking in the kitchen, humming about what to make for dinner when the camera catches Joel walking into the kitchen, looking at his camera and giving a soft, subtle smile.

“What are you watchin’ old man?” Sarah croons off-screen, zooming in on his face. “More tile orders?”

Joel glances up from his phone, gaze glossy. He sees the camera and gives an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“Get that damn camera outta my face,” Joel chides with an embarrassed smile. He flips his phone over and you let out a shocked gasp.

To anyone else it would look innocuous, but you can see in that flash of pixels that he was looking at a photo of you. The one from your date night where you posed in front of the I Love you So Much mural.

You re-watch that one over and over until it expires.

But you don’t write to him. You can’t. You know it would take just the sound of his voice to have you jumping a plane and meeting him in some dark hotel. Not just for the fucking, but for the way he felt wrapping his arms around you, how his mouth slotted gently, how he smelled and tasted and felt like safety.

You never had that before.

You may never again.

Your parents haven’t reached out to you since graduation. You know they never will. Your parents are stubborn – especially your father. They will force you to make it on your own; there will be no financial bail outs or sporadic gifts in the mail. They don’t even know you’ve moved to New York. No one does. You don’t upload to your socials anymore.

And a year ago that would have terrified you, but now? It buoys you. It makes you feel strong. It makes you feel independent. You’ve done this all on your own and you’re surviving. It’s hard but you’re doing it. You don’t need anyone.

In mid-November during a gloomy day a young man asks you out as you walk to the subway. He’s seen you in the coffee shop you work at and he thinks you’re pretty. He’s cute in a wide-eyed, sweet dimpled smile kind of way. Not the right kind of dimple, though. Not the right eyes, or height or hair. His hands aren’t calloused, his neck not long, his shoulders not broad.

He’s not him.

You turn him down kindly, watching curiously when the smile leaves his face and he calls you a dumb bitch. You just shrug, no longer caring what the opposite sex thinks of you. You don’t care what anyone else thinks of you, only the two people back on Rancher Street.

You walk home from work the following week, feet sore from your back to back shifts. It’s late, the sky drizzling and in your hand you carry the plastic bag from the closest bodega. It holds only a few loose packets of instant noodles.

You’re traipsing down one of the snooty streets as you call them. The ones with high end restaurants and lounges that your parents could easily afford. You gaze down at the approaching puddles, wondering how long it’ll be before the snow arrives. You almost bump into the figure that’s come to a sudden stop in front of you.

You raise your head, about to sneer up at the obvious tourist when a familiar set of light eyes gaze back down at you, an umbrella hoisted gently above her head.

“Tess?”

She looks amazing. Her hair is cut to just below her ears, her skin glowing. She’s dressed similarly to how she was when you knew her – professional, tailored.

You on the other hand have gained weight, your face swollen with tears and sodium, your clothing bland and dark. The drizzling rain has made your hair stick unflattering to your face and you wish you were anywhere else.

“Hello,” she says sharply, her smile a false one.

She’s alone, no one walks with her. She looks like she just left a meeting. Your cheeks burn in humiliation at the memory of your last encounter.

“What are you doing in New York?”

“Marketing symposium,” she answers, her eyes scanning you over obviously.

“Oh.”

You have nothing else to offer. Someone bumps into you as they pass, the sidewalks quickly filling up. It’s New York after work after all, you’re surprised a rat hasn’t skittered over your feet at this point.

“I never pictured Joel as a New York kinda guy,” she offers. “Seemed like a Texas boy through and through.”

Joel.

You haven’t heard his name in so long that the sound of it makes you wince.

“We uh. . . We aren’t… Sarah found out,” you blurt, surprising yourself.

Tess blinks in surprise before she nods slowly, her eyes scanning you as you squirm on the cement. People continue to mill around you, but all you feel is you and her locked in this moment, she shielded by her umbrella and you exposed.

“She took it badly then?”

“Yeah. Really bad.”

You wish she would just walk on by. That she would let you shuffle to your shitty apartment with its cracked walls and peeling paint so you can heat up your instant noodles and fall asleep to the soundtrack of your own sobs.

“It’s what you deserve,” she says tightly. “The pair of you.”

“I know.”

You wait for her to give a polite nod and shoulder by you, but instead she seems to scrutinize your face further. You feel it, even as your eyes drop to her expensive looking shoes.

“Let’s get a drink.”

Your eyes dart from her shoes up to her face, confused to see no guile there. There’s no kindness or softness either. It’s an offer, but not one from a friend.

You shift your plastic bag from one hand to the other awkwardly. You don’t know how to tell this woman that you’re broke. That after this bag of instant noodles you have nothing until your paycheck on Friday.

You don’t want her to know how pathetic your life is. Her light eyes dart from your face to the bag and the items inside. She tips her head towards the lounge across the street.

“I’m paying. Let’s go.”

///

“A Chardonnay for me.”

Tess tilts back in her red leather chair, crossing her long legs over one another after she orders. With her jacket off you can see she’s got a tight dress on and she’s obviously been working out. She’s always been a beautiful woman, but tonight she looks like a bombshell. She and the waiter look at you expectantly as the other patrons buzz around.

“I’m good with water.”

“She’ll have a Chardonnay as well,” Tess smiles up at the server. “And a plate of gyoza bites.”

The man nods, leaving the two of you to sit across from one another awkwardly. You’re still wearing your jacket, your bag of noodles in a crumple at your feet.

You think you must stick out like a sore thumb in this high-end lounge with its soft jazz music and sleek tables. The place is dimly lit with opulent chandeliers hanging from the high roof, shiny black veined marble floors and collection of upper echelon clientele in suits and well-tailored dresses. You feel so out of place in your jeans and you wonder if that’s why Tess chose it.

You can’t say you’d blame her.

The waiter returns with your wine glasses and appetizer, telling Tess to let him know if she needs anything else. He doesn’t even spare a glance in your direction. Tess takes a sip of wine as you play with the stem of yours.

“Why him?”

Tess’s eyes are fixed sharply on yours when you finally lift your gaze to hers.

“Huh?”

“Why Joel?” Tess repeats and there’s genuine curiosity in her gaze.

You weigh what you want to say, aware that what you admit could hurt her further. But then again what could hurt her more than what you’ve already done?

“Because my boyfriend had just dumped me and I felt like shit,” you say with a croak. “And when I saw Joel… I dunno… He was so beautiful and kind and funny and a good dad. . . and it was this instantaneous thing. And I think in my own insecure way I wanted to prove I was worth something. That I was still desirable.”

You break off, feeling your cheeks heat. Its one things to admit these things to yourself, quite another to admit them to the woman whose husband you seduced.

“You need to know it wasn’t like Joel was trying to get me into bed. It was all me from the start.”

“I don’t think he was fighting too hard,” Tess rolls her eyes in a way that makes you feel small.

“I think it was that he liked feeling desired.”

“I thought he was desirable,” Tess interjects.

“I don’t know that he knew that,” you wince with a shrug. You shift in your seat, feeling her gaze heavily upon you. “He uh… He kinda made it seem like maybe you didn’t really express that to him.”

“Maybe I didn’t,” Tess offers softly as she glances out the window at the darkening street. You take a long sip from your wine before continuing.

“He said you wanted kids at first and then didn’t,” you offer. “Can I ask why?”

Tess moves her eyes from the window back to you. Her jaw clicks as she considers her next words.

“I thought that the whole motherhood thing was for me, I really did,” Tess says, popping another gyoza bite into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “And Joel is the perfect Dad… Really perfect. Like, he loved helping Sarah with homework and taking her to the park and even making her soup when she had the flu.”

You try not to smile in memory of that side to Joel. That sweetly nurturing part. Tess on the other hand looks perplexed, her shaking lightly.

“The longer I was with him, the more I could see that he was just made for parenthood. Made to take care and protect, like it’s in his DNA. He loves to love. And I think I realized I wasn’t like that. I like my job and I didn’t realize how much I like my own independence. And I thought that Sarah and our love was enough, but . . . " Tess sighs. "I don’t know that Joel ever really loved me.”

“Of course he did. I know he did.”

Tess smiles at your emphatic response.

“I wanted to get married, he wanted more kids and we were of a certain age. It wasn't that unending spark and flame, it was the kind of comfortable fire that keeps your feet warm, you know?”

You don’t, but you nod anyway.

“Anyway...” Tess shrugs, trailing off as she spears a gyoza with her fork. She munches thoughtfully before chasing it with another sip of her wine. Yours is still mostly full, sweating in the glass.

“Tess, what did Joel tell you that day? The day at the hotel?”

The day Tess caught you in his lap, writhing and begging for Joel to come in you. The beginning of the end. Tess looks mollified for a moment and you immediately regret asking her to go back to that ugly memory.

“You don’t have to say-“

Tess leans back in her chair, mouth pursed as she looks into middle distance. You can tell that she’s replaying that moment, that time.

“Honestly we cried a lot, together. Joel never really cries so it surprised me. He apologized over and over for not ending things with me earlier. I think it would have been different if we’d hated one another, easier maybe,” Tess takes a deep steadying breath, looking not at your face but your ear.

“Then he told me that he was in love with you, never felt that way before, blah blah blah. I told him it was a midlife crisis, he told me it wasn’t. It went back and forth like that a few times. I was convinced it was the sex. That he was just wanting someone shiny and new. But. . . that’s never been Joel’s M.O. He’s never been that guy. I still don’t think he’s that guy, despite everything.”

Tess shifts, taking a sip of her wine. This entire experience is surreal. From the way you’re talking to one another to the way you sit like old friends at the narrow table. She waves off the server who attempts to take the now empty dishes away.

“Then he told me the same things you did. That it would break Sarah’s heart if she found out that way. Then he told me he would give me whatever I wanted. The house. His truck. His shares in Miller Construction. Anything if it meant I wouldn’t say anything to Sarah.”

Your brows rise, you had no idea about that.

“I said that I would let him keep it all. The house, the shares, everything, and that I would never tell Sarah if he did just one thing for me.” Tess gives a weak smile. “If he just broke it off with you right then and there.”

You stomach sinks, your skin going clammy as if you’re right back there in that hotel room bathroom, cringing as you pray Tess doesn’t realize it’s you who’s just come on her husband’s lap.

Why did Joel never tell you this?

“He said he couldn’t do it,” Tess says softly, and she shifts back in her chair, legs crossing the other way. She has an almost amused look on her beautiful face, as if she still doesn’t believe it months later.

“He said he’d give me anything else, but that. That he couldn’t give you up. That he was so in love with you that he would give me anything I wanted, except for that.”

You close your eyes, needing to ground yourself for a moment. This is all new information, private information that was never meant for your ears. But it makes the ache for Joel grow stronger, the desire to see him, to hold him, just one more time.

Tears begin at your waterline and you force them back. You finally crack your eyes open and see Tess staring back at you.

“You didn’t take any of those things.”

“No,” Tess shakes her head, looking into her now emptied wine glass. “I didn’t.”

“Why?”

Tess gives a sigh, stretching her back as she shrugs.

“I have money; I have rental property in Illinois. I didn’t need his stuff. And it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because the one thing I wanted he couldn’t give me.”

You’re quiet, waiting. The waiter comes over with the bill, discreetly slipping it onto the table and walking on.

“I wanted him devastated," Tess continues. "I wanted him to wake up every day cursing that he ever cheated on me, sobbing, tearing his hair out, regretting every moment,” Tess says with an almost sinister curl of her lips.

“But that could never happen because he had you. I knew that if he had you there was no chance of him ever being anything other than content.”

You swallow the tears that burn your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell Sarah then?”

For the first time since you��ve sat down Tess looks hurt, almost wounded.

“Because I know how she idolized her father. I couldn’t be the person to knock him off that pedestal for her. It would make me cruel and one thing you were right about is that I’m not a cruel person.”

But you are.

You’re cruel.

You knocked her father from that pedestal without care. You took and took and while you have hints you don’t even know how their relationship is faring. Has Sarah truly forgiven him?

“Well at the end of the day you were dealt the best hand,” you muse, taking your wine glass and motioning towards her. “You’re beautiful, you have money, you’re-“

“-Consistently worried that any man I date will cheat on me,” Tess finishes for you. “You know how many second dates I’ve turned down because I’m sure that I’m terrified of being hurt again?”

And there it is; the realization that even after this apology, even after this talk, the damage you have caused with your actions will never truly go away. They will linger like a scar on flesh – faded but a forever reminder. This breaks your heart and you push the tears from your eyes before they can fall.

“I don’t know how to properly explain how sorry I am, Tess. You never deserved anything like it. I wish … I wish you could punish me somehow,” you say, swallowing thickly. “Like punch me or. . . Something. I deserve it.”

“I think you’re being punished worse than anything I could ever dream up.” Tess signs the receipt, her signature narrow and cramped. “Being apart from the person you love? That's a different kind of pain.”

This is the first time that Tess has really recognized that you and Joel love each other. That it isn’t a fucking and forgetting kind of relationship. That you love him as much as he loves you and that this is a devastation you can’t seem to move on from. This is what makes the tears slip down your nose, head lowered.

You see Tess push a napkin across the table to you. You take it gratefully, dabbing at your eyes and under your nose.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you ask through sniffles. “I ruined your marriage. I was… I was horrible.”

“Yes, you were,” Tess nods, taking a long sip of her wine. “And I’ll never forgive you for it. What you did was completely fucked up and selfish. You helped to break up my marriage.”

You want to curl into your shell. You want to run and hide from her scorn and her judgement. But something keeps you there, almost like you want to be punished. You want her to lay into you with her sharp eyes and sharper words.

“But Joel was right in a lot of ways that night," Tess says lightly. "Our marriage didn’t work like we wanted. And while it will never make what you did okay, it does allow me a chance to go out and find someone who actually wants me, who wants the same things as me.”

“Joel wanted you,” you tell her even though it hurts.

“Not enough,” Tess says with her mouth a grim line. “Not as much as he wanted you.”

You don’t say anything to that; you just trace the stem of your wineglass slowly.

“You know, I thought this would be more satisfying,” Tess observes after a beat. “Seeing you broken, knowing that Joel is probably ten times worse. But it’s not. I just feel sad for you. You’re so young and you’ve gotten into such a mess.”

You watch her place her wallet back into her purse.

“And for what?” she scoffs. “A guy you can’t even sleep with anymore.”

“He was more than that to me,” you explain, finger twisting. “I… I’ve just never loved someone before. Not like that. Never felt love like that. Never felt seen by anyone before Joel, not since Heather.”

“Heather?”

You think about telling Tess about your sister. Explaining that aside from Heather love always came with strings back in your house. But you think it would be a disservice to this entire exchange. That she would think you were sourcing pity.

“It doesn’t matter. I just . . . I just don’t think I’ll ever find love like that again.”

Tess sighs, sucking her teeth lightly.

“Maybe you should be with Joel, maybe you shouldn’t. Back at the hotel I thought it was insane but now? Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Doesn’t really matter does it?” you exhale with a soft laugh to cover the pain. “It’s over.”

“Because of Sarah.”

“Yeah.”

“So talk to Sarah.”

Tess stands next to the table now, purse over her shoulder. You glance up at her, brows furrowed.

“I can’t. She’s got me blocked on everything.”

You’re confused to see Tess smirking down at you.

“Back in my day if we wanted to contact someone we sent a letter.”

///

Dear Sarah,

I don’t even know how to start this. I mean, even as I’m sitting here I’m thinking of all the reasons why I don’t deserve you to give me the time of day. If you’d done the same with my father and helped to contribute to the end of a marriage I’d think the worst of you too.

I saw someone today who encouraged me to write to you. To let you know my side of things. I know that it doesn’t make what happened okay, I just need you to know what I was thinking.

I know you probably think that your dad and I were trying to keep this secret from you because we were ashamed of it. The truth is yes, there is a part of me that is deeply ashamed that I pursued your married father. The selfishness of that action is not lost on me. I will be paying that price the rest of my life.

I know there is shame for Joel that I'm your college-aged best friend. I know he worries that you'll think less of him (please don't). I know he's ashamed that he didn't end his marriage sooner.

But I think we are most ashamed of not telling you sooner. We were really scared at how you would react. We even promised each other that when you got back we were gonna have you over for dinner and explain everything. You just caught us off guard coming home early (not blaming you! It's your house!) I just needed you to know that it was our every intent to tell you everything.

And I think I thought that if we told you together, that if you saw how much we loved each other that you'd give us your blessing or something. I think I deluded myself into thinking I could have it all: you as my best friend and your dad as my soulmate. Now I have neither.

And I know you might be reading soulmate and rolling your eyes because you and I have never believed in bullshit like that. But Sarah, he is my soulmate, whatever that means. It's like we come alive together, life is even better than normal. Things I hated with Conrad make me so happy with Joel.

I share everything with him, stuff I've never told anyone in the world. Stuff I thought made me worthless. But your dad never saw me like that. It's like he sees me as what I always dreamed I could be.

Your dad gave me love that I've never known was possible. The kind of unconditional love that I look back upon with nothing but extreme gratitude. I regret that he was married; I regret that he is your father but I don't regret loving him. Loving Joel Miller was the most wonderful thing I've ever experience; it’s like being warmed by the sun.

I know this is hard to accept. From the outside it looks really bad. I know. And yes we did a lot wrong in getting together. We'll have to pay for that the rest of our lives.

We never meant to fall in love, Sarah. We really didn't. And I won't go on about how wonderful and special your dad is because I know you probably don't wanna hear it. I'm just asking that you try to remember our friendship. Was I ever the type of friend to mess around with some married guy for fun? Was I ever the type to purposefully hurt you? Ever?

Hurting you is the number one thing we never wanted to do. You know how much your dad loves you. You're his entire world. And you see in his actions that you are the most important woman in his life and always will be.

You are also the only true friend I've ever had in my entire life. I know I fucked things up and I know that I betrayed your trust. I don't know how to show you how sorry I am other than cutting all ties with your father (which I have) and giving you space.

But I miss you Sarah. I miss the way we laughed together, the way we could depend on one another. I miss your loving friendship as well. I hope one day you and I can talk. I hope one day maybe you'll be comfortable with me seeing your father. But if that day never comes I need you to know how much I love you both.

If you’ve read this far thank you. I love you and I miss you.

You sign your name, wiping away the tears that fell without you realizing. They smudge the ink on your words, blurring some.

There was so much more you wanted to put in that letter. How staying away from Joel is breaking your heart being the main thing. How every day without Joel has been torture.

You slide the letter into an envelope, addressing and stamping it before rushing out in the bitter cold to post it. You come back into the apartment, feeling strangely light.

For the first time in months you fall asleep without crying.

///

Its weeks later before you hear back from her. A short message on your Instagram from the account she previously had you blocked on.

[SMILLER44] Read your letter.

Thank you. Do you want to talk about it?

She doesn’t answer. You can see she’s read your last message but she makes no attempt to respond.

You don’t push it. You just let it happen. She doesn’t have to come around on your schedule. You don’t know that she ever will. But she’s read your letter, you have that form of closure and maybe that’s enough.

You’re studying for finals the following week when a message comes through at two am.

[SMILLER44] Chsalrie is fgoan and iw miss himsso mhc!!

Sarah very rarely drinks to the point of drunkenness. In habit you respond the way you always have when she imbibes.

Make sure you drink some water.

[SMILLER44] Mnoegyt mom! Iknw@!

You don’t know what to say to that.

She attaches a photo of Charlie from what looks like a recent zoom call. He’s frowning, looking into the camera with a sorrowful expression. It’s clear that their time apart has been really hard for both of them and your heart aches.

I bet you miss him lots.

[SMILLER44] Yeh it hurttsd sobad

I know that feeling.

But it’s only a few more months right? Then he’s moving back to Austin?

Sarah doesn’t reply to you that night. Either she’s fallen asleep in a drunken stupor or she’s remembered that you’re not friends anymore. Either way you don’t hear back from her for the rest of the night.

The following afternoon you look down to see you have another notification from her.

[SMILLER44] Hey Hi! Feeling okay? [SMILLER44] Hungover. Headache. I bet. [SMILLER44] Sorry about the messages.

I didn’t mind at all. Brought back good memories.

Nothing else comes through that day, but your spirit is lighter. Even at the shitty convenience store job you find yourself stocking items and scanning lottery tickets with a smile on your face for what feels like the first time in ages.

For the rest of that week you get intermittent messages from her at all times of the day and night.

[SMILLER44] Where are you living? Address on the envelope said New York? Yeah. That’s me. [SMILLER44] WTF?? Since when did you wanna live in New York? Seemed like a good place to disappear for a bit. [SMILLER44] I guess. You see Pizza Rat yet? Not yet. His cousin tho for sure. [SMILLER44] You have roommates? Yeah two this time. And they suck. One smokes so much weed I think I have a contact high most days. The other one doesn’t clean up after herself. [SMILLER44] Ew And that one always leaves hair in the shower.

You remember that was always Sarah’s complaint during your time together at school. The girls who would leave hair on the dorm shower walls. Or the ones who would leave soap all over the sinks.

[SMILLER44] 🤮

///

A few days later another message comes through.

[SMILLER44] I still can't believe we're graduated Me either. How's the job? [SMILLER44] Management really sux, but I’m learning a lot. How about u? How's Masters? Good actually. I really love it. The apartment sucks tho.

You attach a photo of the tiny apartment with yourself in the bottom corner frowning dramatically.

[SMILLER44] Oh fuck that’s a shithole. Yeah.

///

You always let Sarah be the one to initiate every conversation, even if you’re dying to talk with her about your day. You don’t want to alter this delicate ecosystem of messages. And soon it becomes a daily occurrence.

Some days it a meme and an emoji. Other days it’s her in front of the mirror in a new shirt going “Yes or no?” (something that takes you right back to your college days together). Other days it’s like nothing between you has changed.

[SMILLER44] Charlie is impossible to shop for. Christmas is like two weeks ago and I got him cologne& socks. Oh. [SMILLER44] Shitty right? No. [SMILLER44] Be honest It’s not great. I have an idea! Tet him a painting from a photo of the two of you on your trip this summer? [SMILLER44] I like that idea. He loves sentimental shit like that. And you don’t? 🤨 [SMILLER44] Not like him. he wanted to get me a locket with his picture in it Yikes. [SMILLER44] Right????

Having messages from Sarah becomes the light in your increasingly dark days. You’re working, you’re studying, you’re exhausted. But every time you see that notification it makes you feel like you’re back with her giggling in the library, drinking coffee on campus, studying together. And through it all you never mention Joel once.

[SMILLER44] Remember when Conrad got drunk and bought pizza for the entire dorm? Lol I forgot about that! [SMILLER44] Did I tell you he tried to reach out to me? Who? Conrad? [SMILLER44] Yeah. WTF? WHEN? [SMILLER44] A couple weeks back. He saw that me and Charlie weren’t living together. Thought we broke up. Wanted to know how I was doing. Are you fucking serious? [SMILLER44] Yup. Told him I was okay. [SMILLER44] Turns out he’s with some girl in Switzerland.

Of course Conrad would rebound with someone his family would be so proud of. A blonde, willowy thing that doesn’t talk back or give him grief when he does shitty things. Who laughs when he treats the wait staff like shit or doesn’t mind when he parties late with his friends.

Of course he is. She’s probably a model with access to her daddy’s oil money. [SMILLER44] Looks like it. U ever miss him? Conrad? Fuck no. [SMILLER44] U seeing anyone?

This is the first time in your exchange that things have tiptoed on the idea of you and romance. Her question makes you want to laugh. How could you be seeing anyone? Your heart has been ripped out of your chest.

For the first time since everything happened you are angry at Sarah. Furious that for some reason you had to get her approval to love her father. You want to say you know that I’m not! You know why! But instead you swallow and type out a short reply.

Nah. Not ready.

She doesn’t reply.

///

December in New York is rather beautiful. The people even seem a little nicer – sliding coins into the tip jar at the coffee shop. The snow that falls over the buildings takes away the sharpness of the architecture, makes it seem more magical.

But nothing compares to Austin with its warm days and sleepy charm. Nowhere could ever compare, not when Joel doesn’t exist in it.

To you, New York is the most beautiful in the winter. You take this time to enjoy what the city has to offer. You go to museums and you eat shitty street food and you actually go the Statue of Liberty even though it’s a fucking cliché.

You feel you might be slowly coming back to yourself. The air fills your lungs and you walk down the street back to your apartment most days with a strange sense of hope. Like perhaps there is a life ahead of you again.

Like maybe you could be happy.

[SMILLER44] Hey Hi! How are you? [SMILLER44] Bored. [SMILLER44] Dad is making gingerbread cookies. Pretty sure he's burning them.

You feel your heart hammer at the mere mention of Joel in passing. You’ve been very careful to avoid that topic, to skirt around anything that could be considered prying. But here she is dropping it into your lap.

[SMILLER44] Now he's complaining that the icing he made is too lumpy.

Your heart skips a further beat when she attaches a photo.

His hands are held over a mixing bowl, mid motion. He's wearing his soft green t-shirt, one of your favorites. You can see the messy kitchen in the background and it makes you smile so wide your cheeks hurt.

You wish she'd included his face if only so you could have something new to replace the scant images of Joel you have saved on your phone. The ones you can’t bring yourself to erase.

Nice to see some things never change.

You hesitate before deleting it.

I really miss both of--

No. Erase.

In the end you don't reply. You can't. It hurts too much.

///

It’s Christmas in a few days and you have the week and a half off from your coffee shop gig and thanks to a Christmas bonus from your very kind manager who comments on your amazing work ethic. You think of spending it on a dinner out for yourself or perhaps a better pair of work shoes.

School is finished for the semester and you think of the days ahead as you walk home from the local bodega eating the last of your chopped cheese. Snow falls lazily around you, flakes sticking to your cheeks as you stroll.

Everywhere you look Christmas is in the air. Cheerful Santa's wave from department store windows. Ice skating is going on outside Rockefeller plaza, the insane light display at Dyker Heights, the couples snuggled together on horse drawn carriages in Central Park.

You cherish when Sarah sends you messages, but as the date creeps closer to Christmas there is a pang of longing you can’t overlook. This time last year you were entering into something with Joel that would change you. You were in his arms, you were falling for him. Now you're in a shitty apartment in New York trying to focus on studies and paying rent.

It's possible that Sarah has forgiven you, but she's made no attempt to bring you and Joel back together. The truth is that she may never.

You might get your friend back in some small capacity, but you likely are never going to feel Joel's strong arms holding you again. Never again going to sigh against his soft mouth as he enters you. Never going to hear those words murmured into your hair: I love you my perfect snowflake.

Paper snowflakes hang from a neon-sign laden window you're currently passing, causing you to still. You read the shop name, your mind on the extra money in your bank account.

You step inside.

///

Your phone beeps in your pocket. Sarah has moved to sending you texts now. You sent her a digital gift card for Christmas that morning to some clothing place in Austin and you assume she’s writing to thank you.

[SMILLER44] My dad is miserable. He just keeps moping around the house.

Out of nowhere an anger begins to boil within you. You want to scream at Sarah that she’s the reason you’re both moping. That she’s the reason you can’t just be happy!

[SMILLER44] He's been like that since the summer. [SMILLER44] I feel like it’s all my fault.

And just like that your anger for Sarah is quickly replaced with guilt that you could have ever been furious with her in the first place. She’s obviously been the one dealing with the fallout of a father and best friend who are miserable without each other.

Not your fault. You were totally valid in being hurt and furious. What we did was fucking shitty. I meant everything I said in my letter. I wish I had been up front from the start.

[SMILLER44] I think you made him really happy. I think we made each other really happy. I love him, Sarah. I’m sorry because I know that must be weird but I’m in love with him, I’ve never stopped. And I’ve never loved any man the way I love Joel. And I don’t think I ever will.

She doesn’t reply right away and you’re concerned that you’ve hurt her or scared her off in some way. You’re in bed, teeth brushed as the scent of your roommates weed filters in under your door when another beep sounds on your phone late that evening. You open the window to air it out, the night crisp before glancing at your phone.

[SMILLER44] It's gonna take a long time for me to really trust you again. I want to earn that trust back if you'll let me.

///

Joel Miller has never considered himself to be a good man. Never thought of himself as a bad one either, but in these last few months as he carves in the garage he’s been considering what it is to be good and bad.

Bad men keep secrets from the people they love. Bad men cheat on their wives. Bad men fuck the mouth of a girl half their age, aroused at the thought of being caught. Bad men stay married even as they call up said girl and make her come over the phone. Joel has been such a bad man in so many ways.

But he’s been a good man too. He’s never held your absence against his daughter. Never made her feel as if she isn’t his priority or that she was wrong to feel how she did. Sarah had no mother, Joel was damned if she'd live the rest of her life without a father as well.

He’s a good man because despite that one mess up he’s given you space and not tried to contact you. He’s a bad man because he still watches that video the two of you made and it still make him come so hard he can only do it when Sarah is out of the house.

But he’s good because the love that he carries for you is beyond carnal and it makes him want to be a better man. Makes him want to be brave like you’re being, cutting those ties from your family. Makes him want to be patient like you and give you space. Makes him reach out to Tess at the end of November and apologize in earnest.

He’s confused by the cryptic little smile on her face over the Zoom call, but he says nothing about it. Just repeats over and over how wrong he was to disrespect their marriage like he did. That he was sorry he ever treated her with such lack of concern. He answers her questions with unflinching honesty, his knuckles turning white as he holds his coffee mug next to him on the desk.

“I’ll never forgive you for what you did, Joel. But I appreciate the apology.”

It’s enough. It’s more than he deserves.

At the end of the day Joel decides he’s just a man. A man who is in love with a woman he can’t have. He doesn’t let himself look at your photo anymore – the one of you in front of the mural. He doesn’t let himself go on your social media.

He just goes to work early, works overtime and works harder than ever. He comes home and he makes dinner and he listens to his daughter talk about her day and he is content. He loves hearing Sarah talk about the challenges of the job, of seeing her grow into a capable young woman with her mom’s brains and a bit of his looks.

It was a few weeks of strained hello’s when you first left. When he walked back up into the house as your taxi pulled out, looking haunted as Sarah trailed in behind him. Of silent breakfasts and separate dinners. Until Joel bit the bullet and made her favorite dinner, until he insisted she come and watch a movie with him one night until things just started feeling normal again.

Sarah never brought you up. Ever. Not until this last week where her eyes have stayed on his face, sympathy and something else behind them.

"You miss her lots huh?"

"Sarah I don't wanna talk about her," Joel says gently. "You know that."

Sarah gives him a strange little smile over dinner one night from his favorite BBQ place with the best cornbread this side of Texas. The day is calm and quiet and the house is decorated for the holidays.

“You called her since she left?”

Joel wants to tell Sarah to not ask about you. To never bring you up again. But his daughter deserves answers the most out of anyone. He lowers his fork, still chewing.

“No. She thought it was a bad idea.”

“Hmmm.”

“Sent her an e-mail a few months back. She never replied,” Joel says and he hates the pinch in his voice as he says it. He covers it up with a swig of his beer.

“Probably didn’t want to upset me,” Sarah rationalizes, fork poking at her pulled pork.

“Or she’s moved on,” Joel admits

He’d never say it out loud, but this is his biggest fear of all. That you have indeed found a new boyfriend. One closer to you in age with no baggage and endless love for you. The kind of man who fucks you tenderly, eyes on your face and whispers that he wants to marry you. The kind of man who would support you in school and the man that you’ll eventually carry children for.

The kind of man Joel would want for you if the thought didn’t make him want to punch a hole through a wall.

///

“I hate this fuckin’ movie,” Joel grumbles as he and Sarah sit side by side on the couch. White Christmas is playing on the television and Joel has had just about enough. A bowl of half-eaten popcorn sits between them.

“It’s Christmas eve,” Sarah says with a cheerful laugh. “It’s tradition.”

Fuck tradition.

Fuck Christmas.

Fuck everything.

Snow and shortbread and every fucking thing that reminds him of you. Of your time with him last year. Your mouth, your body, your whispers in his ear. He sure as fuck doesn’t feel like celebrating.

“S’a dumb tradition.”

“Started because of you, old man.”

“Only because you were a kid and you would scream if I tried to watch anything else.”

“Yeah well you only have yourself to blame then.”

Joel gives her a sharp chuckle of amusement before swiping a handful of popcorn, munching softly. Despite you not being here, he’s so thankful his relationship with Sarah is good. He loves his daughter more than he could ever explain.

Sarah checks her phone for what feels like the millionth time before relaxing back and watching the “Love, you didn’t do right by me” scene playing on the screen. The sultry intro begins as Sarah hums along.

Love, you didn't do right by me You planned a romance that just hadn't a chance And I'm through

Joel tries to hide his sigh.

What are you doing right now? Where are you? Are you safe? Enjoying Christmas? Did you go back to your parents after everything? Are they being kind to you? These questions have plagued him since the day you left.

The doorbell rings, startling Joel from his thoughts. He glances over at Sarah, brows raised.

"You expectin' Charlie?”

"Naw, his flight just got in actually. But I think your gift is here," Sarah says with a gentle smile. "I'll need your help bringin’ it in though."

Joel gives a sound of protestation, rising from the couch with a pop in his back before padding towards the front door after his daughter.

“What kinda gift comes on Christmas Eve?” He teases her, kissing the top of her head as she stands at the door. “And has to be brought in by two people?”

“See for yourself.”

Joel rolls his eyes playfully at her giggling face. His hand goes around the handle, pulling the door inwards and peeking around the corner. The teasing sweetness in his face is immediately washed away and he can only stare.

"Hi Joel," you say shyly on the porch, hand clutching your suitcase tightly.

You’re dressed in a long skirt, tank top and light jean jacket. Your hair is done beautifully and your lips glossy. You look a little tired from your journey, but your eyes are bright as you gaze at him, your smile so wide your cheeks are pink.

You’re fucking perfect.

A moment passes between you and Sarah hides a smirk.

"I'm heading to pick up Charlie from the airport," Sarah tells you both as she pulls on her jacket. "We’re gonna stay at the hotel by the airport tonight. I'll be back for breakfast and presents tomorrow. I’m borrowing the truck, alright?"

Joel hasn’t stopped staring at you. He just gives a shallow nod to Sarah watching the way you give her a hopeful look as she walks out the door. His heart squeezes when you both reach for one another, hugging tightly.

"I missed you," you whisper against her shoulder.

"Same here," she whispers back before pulling away and smiling at you. "Glad you could make it. Hope you'll stay for a while."

"If your dad'll have me," you say shooting a nervous look Joel's way.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Sarah says with a crooked smirk.

And then with a wave she's off, striding down the driveway with you watching after her. When she and the truck disappear around a corner you turn back to face Joel, looking strangely nervous.

"Hi," Joel finally croaks, still stuck in the doorway in a daze. "I-I can’t believe you're here. How’re you here?"

"Sarah called me. Said she wanted me to be your Christmas gift. I had air miles."

"Best damn gift I've ever received," Joel says.

As if only now realizing that you are both exposed on the porch Joel urges you inside, taking your suitcase. He stops at the couch, suddenly not realizing where he should put you. He leaves it there by the couch, urging you to join him with a tilt of his head.

“You want a drink?”

“Nah, I’m okay thanks.”

He stands awkwardly for a moment, wanting to grab you, to kiss you, to touch you everywhere but he’s not sure if he should, if that's what you want. Instead he sits on the couch, his knee brushing yours. You both tense at the sensation, as if it's wrong to feel even the hint of one another.

“So where you been all this time?”

“New York.”

“No shit? Why New York?”

“A good place to be anonymous.”

His eyes move to become fixed on your bare knee under your skirt, desperate to touch the warm flesh if only to prove to himself that you actually are real, that you're here.

As if you're thinking the same you let a trembling hand go to his forehead, pushing back the curls there.

“Your hair is longer,” you murmur, smiling when Joel’s eyelids flutter shut and he leans into your touch. “I like it.”

“Thank you, baby."

Baby.

Now he takes his time staring back at you. Taking in the circles under your eyes, the soft curve of your cheek, the sensual pillow of your mouth. You're just as beautiful as he remembered, but even moreso because you're real.

The tension is there, not just because of this surprise but because there is so much you want to say to one another. But neither wants to break this beautiful moment of reconciliation so instead Joel takes your hand in his and brings you to stand.

“Want some shortbread?”

“Sure.”

You follow him into the kitchen, marveling out loud how beautifully decorated the place is. Even more than when you were here last year. You take a moment to enjoy the sight of Joel’s biceps curling under his soft t-shirt as he brings out the plate from the fridge.

“No snowflakes though,” you tease as you take the cookie he offers you. You remember last year they were all over the garland and even in the windows. Now it seems they’ve been purposefully omitted.

“Ah, well, those are in the garage,” Joel says looking strangely shy. You’re curious at this, taking a nibble from the cookie. You don’t have to heart to tell him it’s awful. But he’s smiling dreamily at you and you find yourself sighing and smiling back.

“Show me?”

He nods, taking your hand in his even though you’re only going twenty steps. He takes you into the garage and you look around, expecting to see paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. Instead it looks deceptively normal.

Joel urges you towards the workbench where he pulls out a large box from underneath. He lays it on the table and takes off the top, his eyes sailing over to you as you peek inside.

Carvings, dozens and dozens of them. And all of them snowflakes.

Some are as small as your thumb, others as large as Joel's palm. Some are painted, others are wood grain. Some are intricately designed and must have taken weeks, others are smooth and buffed.

"Every time I was missing you too much I'd come out here and carve."

"Looks like you missed me a lot."

"I did."

There’s no hesitation from him and you gaze up at him with limpid eyes.

“You uh… I sent you that e-mail a couple months back,” Joel starts and you can see the insecurity in his dropped gaze. “You never wrote back.”

You raise a hand to his cheek, urging him to look back to your face.

“I couldn’t,” you explain with a tremor in your voice. “I wanted to so badly. But I had to respect Sarah’s wishes no matter how bad it hurt.”

Joel nods, knowing that your answer makes sense.

“I think I was worried that maybe you’d moved on,” Joel says with a wince.

You give him a sad smile before your hand drops from his face. You lift up the hem of your shirt, tugging your skirt down until your hip is showcased. Joel feels his heart pick up speed when he sees the tattoo there covered in second skin. A tiny black and white snowflake. The exact one Joel carved for you a year ago.

"Got it when missing you hurt too much," you confess. “Still healing.”

Before he can stop himself he's knelt on the ground of the garage. He holds your hips gently, his full mouth going to press against your decorated flesh.

"S' beautiful baby," Joel murmurs.

He feels goosebumps rise under his touch, and the sensation of your hand carding through his hair.

“How could you ever think I’d move on?” you ask, your voice soft. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, Joel.”

Joel is still there at your feet as if kneeling before you is the most natural pose for him. Because with you he is reverential. His eyes search yours as he stares up at you, his dark eyes soulful.

“You’re so young and beautiful and wonderful and-“

“And you’re so handsome and kind and loving,” you finish for him. “And I don't want anyone else.”

He gives a ghost of a smile up at you before he kisses your hip again, tenderly, lovingly and through the clear bandage you feel the warmth of his mouth.

"Joel," you whisper above him.

He glances back up, seeing your eyes glossy and full of yearning. You don't have to say anything more.

He slowly slides his hand under your skirt, fingertips tracing the curve of your inner thigh, edging your panties. You say nothing, just breathing heavily as you stare down at him while he drags your panties down your calves, over your ankles. You step out of them, watching him place them in the pocket of his sweatpants.

He lifts your skirt, holding it in his hands at the side of your hips. Your pussy is exposed to him and he groans at the sight of it there in front of him. He presses a sloppy kiss to your mound, shivering when you whimper.

His fingers curl in the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down. He gazes at your sex as it is uncovered, groaning softly at the sight of it wet and waiting for him. The skirt is soon discarded and your lower back is urged against the work table.

His intent is clear as he gently urges your thigh over one of his shoulders. You breathe heavily staring down at him, his dark eyes fixed up at you as his mouth comes to press against your mound.

"Please," he murmurs between kisses. "Just let m-"

He trails off as he kisses and licks between your legs, eyes rolling back when he hears your shuddered moan above him. You lean your spine heavily back against the work bench, one foot on the ground, the other leg hinged over Joel's shoulder.

"Joel," you breathe softly if only to hear yourself saying that beautiful name again. The name you avoided thinking of for so long.

His large palms hold you in place, fingers dimpling the flesh as your moans increase. Joel feels tears starting at his eyes as he holds you, the warmth of your skin underneath his hands once more. His perfect fucking woman is here, and she's gonna come on his tongue.

You came back to him. You came back.

He slips two fingers into your dripping slot, curling gently so that he can take a moment to admire you. The way your fingers dig into the edge of the workbench. And now this sweet little snowflake, this forever mark dancing on your skin as your body moves for him.

Overcome, his mouth goes back to your cunt, fingers still working in tandem as he begins to suck you clit in earnest.

Your head is tilted back as your orgasm approaches. His eyes drift up to you even as his fingers and mouth work between your thighs. As if you can feel his gaze your neck bends forward, your eyes dropping to watch Joel between your legs gazing up at you.

Your big, strong man is on his knees, laving your clit with his sinful touch while his big, dark puppy -dog eyes stare up at you with reverence. The sight of it has you whimpering, watching as his eyes darken, the black edging out the dark brown of his iris.

"Uh huh," Joel growls against your pussy, sucking your clit with the perfect pressure as your thighs quake. "You come for me, pretty girl."

And you want to. You want nothing more than for Joel to fuck you with his tongue all night. But you find you need him deeper, need him closer. You need him with his body pressed against yours.

"Take me to bed," you beg breathlessly.

Joel rises, wasting no time before his mouth is on yours. You melt into his arms, immediately slotting your lower between his.

"I missed you so much," you whisper.

"I missed you more."

Joel can't contain himself. He's taken you into his arms, shifting you into a bridal carry. He takes you to the bedroom, laying you on the bed with a tenderness you can’t help but almost weep in the face of.

He undresses you slowly, kissing every piece of flesh he uncovers. Then he removes his own clothing, letting the items fall to the ground before you're in bed underneath his covers.

"I missed you so fucking much," he tells you, peppering your face with kisses as he pulls you against him.

"I thought about you every day," you say with tears in your eyes.

For a moment the two of you slow the momentum down, kissing languidly as you card your hands through his hair and he holds your face between his palms. It feels like the most exquisite reunion of bodies and minds all at once and it warms you in way the sun never could.

Eventually his hands drift to your waist, sucking your tongue into his mouth as his hardness seeks your center. The two of you grind together, groaning and moaning into each other’s mouths before Joel pulls back to look at you.

"You want this?"

"You really have to ask?"

With a grin he urges your knees against your chest, opening you to him. In that folded position when he brackets you on either side he feels like he's holding all of you in his arms, like he's protecting you.

And he knows that when he slides into you in this position that the feeling is as incredible for you as it is for him because your eyes roll back and you whimper.

"Tell me how it feels, baby," Joel groans, slowly drawing himself out and sliding back deeply, his ass and hips flexing.

"So good," you murmur. "So full."

You inhale deeply, your mouth against his shoulder as the smell of his soap and wood shavings wash over you. The scent of safety and of home. Of love.

He kisses your neck, soft sloppy things as he sinks into you with a groan over and over, your eyes gazing down to watch his slick cock entering into you over and over, so slow and so deep it feels like you’re fucking for the first time in your life. You make a small whimpering sound, hips rolling against Joel’s and you feel him smile into your hairline.

"There's my girl."

The sound of it, his girl, makes the tears sneak out the corner of your eyes. When you feel the light tap of wet on your cheeks you open your eyes to see Joel staring at you, tears dropping from his cheek onto yours and that sets you off, chin wobbling.

The two of you make love like this, whispered promises of unending love, of desire, of the torture it was to be without one another. And through it all Joel keeps up his slow and steady pace, more wanting to be inside you than anything. There is no rush, no time to keep. Just you and him and the future ahead of you.

When you finally orgasm it’s a powerful thing that has you sobbing loudly even as Joel empties himself into you. He holds you as you cry raggedly against him, your face buried in his neck as you mourn the months apart, about the pain you’ve both caused and ultimately at the knowledge that you are together again.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he promises as he rocks you in bed.

“Never,” you echo.

---TWO YEARS LATER---

It's one of your traditional Sunday walks, both of you with a coffee in your hand. You're finishing up your blueberry croissant and you're enjoying the mild weather as tourists mill around you.

Normally you both stick closer to home for coffee Sundays. Especially since Joel's workload has been extra tough with his latest project. You only finished school a year ago and have been at your job less than six months. Despite his workload Joel has never been happier.

He loves coming home to hear all about your day. The two of you take turns cooking dinner. Sometimes Tommy and Maria join and those two always stay late to drink and play cards. Tommy likes to give you shit about how you first met, but Joel always reminds him with a severe look to drop it.

Sarah and Charlie are often invited and often attend, bringing over little baked desserts because as Sarah puts it “my dad can’t bake for shit”.

Unlike before, Sarah doesn’t ask you intense details about your romantic life but every so often when the two of you watch Charlie and Joel laughing about something while they BBQ she’ll cast a soft look over at you and offer a gentle: “I don’t think my dad has ever been this happy.”

You always reply the same: “Neither have I.”

When you and Joel got married three months ago he claimed it was because he felt it was time to ‘make an honest woman out of you’. Which was a boldfaced lie. He was just really really excited to finally call you his wife and have you wear his ring.

You and Joel couldn’t stop beaming the entire time.

Of course your garter had a little snowflake charm on it. A private joke for Joel to uncover when he undressed you later that night. One that he enjoyed very much, especially when he found it was just the right length to bind your wrists together. . .

"Why'd you wanna come all this way for coffee, baby?" Joel asks you now, his free arm around your waist as he guides you through the throngs of tourists.

"Remember the murals you showed me years ago? I wanted to see them again."

Joel is pleased with this, dark eyes disappearing as he grins broadly. You both wander around the familiar neighborhoods, stopping at your old favorite murals from the last time you were there several years ago: the bread and butter, the I love you so much where you take a selfie with you kissing Joel's cheek.

"Ready to head back, beautiful?"

“One more?"

Joel nods, his big hand swallowing yours. You find yourself standing taller when he does this, showing him off. You see many of the women taking second looks when he walks by, their eyes twinkling. Joel Miller is the kind of man that gets better with age and you are reaping the benefits.

Sometimes he worries he's too old for you, but he still loves you more than you've ever been loved and fucks you like a twenty two year old on Viagra so you have nothing to complain about. And while Joel does get insecure sometimes about his age, when he watches you bounce up and down on his cock begging for more he knows that you’re more than satisfied.

You turn the corner to find the familiar mural, still crowded with tourists and drawn all over.

Before I die:________________

"You mind if I write something?"

Joel looks surprised by your question but immediately takes your coffee cup and his free hand.

"Course not, baby. Take your time."

You kiss him gently before going over to the mural. There are hundreds of white pieces of chalk all around the ground in front of it. You take a piece and go to one of the free spaces, your elegant swoops clacking against the backdrop of frenzied writing. You drop the chalk to the ground, brushing the dust from your fingertips and sailing over to a waiting Joel.

"Wanna see what I wrote?"

Joel nods, smirking as you grab his wrist and drag him over to the mural. He stands beside you, his dark eyes searching for your familiar looping script amongst the sea of writing. Then he sees it, complete with a little heart beside it.

Before I die: I want to have Joel Miller's baby.

Joel smiles sweetly at this, eyes glazing over with adoration as he looks at the mural and then back to you.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"One day, baby," he promises you with a sweet kiss.

You know he's trying not to be too excited. He's expressed his concern of making you feel pressured before. "I'd love to have a baby with you honey. But only if it's somethin' you want. No pressure from me.' How can he not understand that you'd happily give him an entire football team?

"One day might be sooner than you think, Joel," you say gently.

It takes him a moment to realize that you're holding your palm over your abdomen. The coffee he holds that you'd insisted needed to be decaf. Then it's like it all comes crashing into focus and his eyes go owlish.

"You're-"

"Yeah."

Joel is normally not that expressive a man outside the bedroom or even outside the house. So it takes you by surprise when he drops both half-full coffee cups and lets out a whoop before hoisting you into his arms.

"We're havin' a baby!" Joel shouts, twirling you around. You throw your head back in laughter, arms around his neck as you spin.

The nearby tourists give cheers and claps, causing your cheeks to flush in embarrassment even as you laugh.

But Joel is soaking it up, eyes crinkled in delight, and you realize that he never had this with Sarah. He was young and frightened. But now he shouts his excitement and you don't have it in your heart to tell him to keep quiet.

Eventually he lets you down only so he can grab your face in his hands and kiss you so soundly whistles begin nearby.

"Okay that's enough," you tell him with a laugh.

He takes your hand and starts to lead you back towards the truck, a goofy grin on his face.

"I thought we were walking?"

"In this heat? I'm gettin' you home and outta the sun."

Not even five minutes have gone by since he learned of your pregnancy and already he's started to worry about how to take care of you.

"Congratulations," an older couple says as you walk by. You both thank them enthusiastically, the older women grinning up at Joel. "Your wife is so beautiful."

"Ain't she?" Joel says, his smile broad against his tanned face. "Most beautiful woman inside and out."

"You're a lucky woman," the older woman says with a wink to you. You look up at your husband and feel your heart swell.

"Ma'am, you have no idea."

///

"What's your guess?"

"I hope it's a girl," Sarah announces from her folding chair in the middle of the swelling group.

"Nah, it's a boy," Tommy insists with a grin. "We need more male energy around here."

Sarah raises a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun, her engagement ring glinting in the sunlight.

"The last thing this place needs is more male energy, Tommy."

The nearby group laughs as you run your hand over your swollen midsection. Joel's arm is around your shoulder and you feel his laughter rumble against your body.

You're seven months pregnant and you're glowing. Everyone tells you that. You've never felt as beautiful as you do carrying Joel Miller's child.

The backyard is decorated with tiny blue and pink baby silhouettes and it's ridiculously full with people from Joel's work, from your work and school friends, with Sarah's fiancé Charlie and his family, and your neighbors. The music plays in the background, the beers and wine are flowing and everyone seems to be having a great time.

There's a pile of gifts for you and Joel to open later, and your parents mailed you out the largest package you've ever seen. You'd been unable to wait before opening that one with Joel this morning.

Inside was an assortment of baby clothes, diapers, expensive looking cream, a bottle warming device and another small package wrapped in green ribbon.

Inside this package was a rattle, a simple thing made of silver. Small and delicate with a pink bow faded over the years. Your eyes blur when you read the note.

This rattle was once Heather's and then yours. It brought you both a great amount of joy and we thought it was only appropriate for it to be passed down to our grandchild.

We apologize that we can't be there for the party, but we'd love to have you, Joel, and the baby up for Christmas this year if you would like to attend. If not we understand and perhaps could make plans for sometime in the New Year.

Love, Mom and Dad

Joel is very excited to see what in his own words are "Where the uptight assholes live". He's still not their biggest fans and you're all trying to work through it. You're happy with how things are slowly progressing so far.

"I'm voting girl," Maria tells you shrewdly, bouncing her own young son over her shoulder as she encourages him to burp.

"I'll just be happy it's healthy," Joel insists, squeezing your shoulder gently.

"Ten fingers and ten toes," you say after him.

Joel kisses you sweetly.

"When are we doing this damn reveal?" Comes a voice from the crowd.

Several others join in until a smiling Joel is helping you to your feet and guiding you towards the table by the patio that's covered in cupcakes. There's one small cake covered in white frosting and blue and pink question marks.

Joel stands beside you, one hand on the small of your back. The music is lowered and the crowd comes to circle you and Joel.

You give a wink to Sarah who returns it with a grin. You can see she's wearing the sash you bought her, the one that says "Big Sister".

"Okay are y'all ready?" Joel raises the large cutting knife with one hand as the crowd cheers.

Sarah raises her phone in front of her, hitting record. "Yep. Go for it!"

"How about you?" Joel asks gently, gazing down at your grinning expression. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

His hand is gripping the handle of the knife and he encourages you to place your hand over his. You both slice down the middle, bringing the knife back out of the cake to reveal pale pink icing along the blade.

"It's a girl!"

Cheers sound out everywhere around you, poppers going off with baby rattle shaped confetti. The cupcakes are passed around and everyone gives their congratulations and hugs, citing that you and Joel are going to make the most beautiful baby.

You feel like you can't stop smiling. Is life supposed to feel this perfect?

The food is delivered shortly after, and the swarm of guests descend upon Austin's best BBQ. Paper plates and beer bottles soon line the folding tables Joel set up early this morning.

"For a baby shower being put on for me I sure have to do a lot of fuckin' work for it," he murmured to you this morning before getting up to help Tommy set up.

You watch the people milling around the tables, smiling to yourself as you watch them laugh and chat. The backyard buzzes with energy and mild chaos and you love every second of watching it.

"What do you think of the name Eleanor?" You muse as you and Joel sit next to one another at one of the tables. "Means shining light."

Joel makes a face as if he's not quite on board.

"Mmmm, s'a bit old fashioned."

You purse your mouth in disappointment. You'd come upon that name in a book you were reading and found yourself completely taken with it. You try to find some middle ground.

"We could call her Ellie?"

Joel's smile grows at this, whispering it under his breath a few times in that sweet twang of his. Ellie Ellie.

"I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Joel's mouth finds your temple, pressing a lingering kiss there. His voice lowers an octave, quiet and husky in your ear.

"You know what I else I like?"

"Mmm?"

"How you looked coming for me this mornin'."

Your face goes scarlet and you let out a surprised giggle before schooling your features into an exaggerated look of seriousness.

"We'll have to behave now, Mister Miller since we're both going to be parents," you tell him with mock solemnity.

You don't miss the way his nostrils flare at the sound of Mister Miller passing through your lips.

Nor do you miss when he follows you into the house moments later when you claim to need the bathroom.

He follows you inside in silence, his gaze heated as he comes to cup your swollen breasts through the thin fabric of your dress. You whimper softly, not wanting any passing guests to hear you.

“You’re not wearing a bra today are you?”

“Uh uh,” you grin wickedly. “I know you love it when they bounce for you.”

“Fuckin’ tease,” he grins against your ear before he turns you away from him, hands coming to grip the meat of your ass through your dress.

"Will you fuck me?" You purr, hand coming to graze his already throbbing bulge through his trousers. You shoot him your best innocent gaze, lashes fluttering.

"Please, Mister Miller?"

He fumbles with his belt buckle as you slide your panties down over the globe of your ass. Joel lets out a grunt before sinking into you, his broad chest bracketing you from behind. Your head tilts back, jaw hinged open. He feels so fucking good every single time.

He fucks you against the door; hand over your mouth as you grip his neck behind you for purchase. Your belly nestles against the door lightly and your hips flex as he drives himself deeper into your drenched pussy.

"Made me a Daddy," Joel groans in your ear, hips snapping against yours in a fervor. "Let me fuck you full and now everyone knows you're mine."

There's a sound of loud laughter outside and it makes you whimper as his cock pistons in and out of you. His hand is still sealed over your mouth.

"Take it all, pretty girl. Take it all."

His hands hold you tightly, but secure. He's paranoid of hurting you and the baby but that doesn't stop him from fucking you until his thrusting hips start to stutter.

You glance over your shoulder to watch him, eyes shut and teeth bared as he fucks into you over and over. He’s fucking gorgeous like this, neck strained and curls falling into his forehead. One of the buttons of his dress shirt has come undone in the frenzy, showing you a swath of his muscled chest.

Your man.

"Taking me so well," he groans in approval. He opens his eyes to see you staring up at him with hearts in your eyes and he grins down at you. His face lowers to your shoulder as he croons more filth into your ear ending with a sultry:

"Such a good girl."

"And good girls get your come Mister Miller," you remind him breathlessly, a smile lingering as he kisses you soundly.

"Yes they fuckin' do."

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

a/n #2: Y'all I had to end it on a filthy note because of how these two started. Don't hate me for it heh heh

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

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honeywiththemoneyloa222 · 2 days

Text

THINK YOU THE SH💩T BITCH,YOU NOT EVEN DA FART💨

THIS IS YOU TO THE OLD MINDSET!

Don’t hate the 3D

It’s an assumption bitch!

That same assumption caused by your OWN THOUGHTS

Which take place in your 4D

The 3D is a result

Of the 4D and the 4D is your consciousness your mind

CHANGE YOUR ASSUMPTIONS

If you don’t want

👇🏾

4D-“ My life is so hard I’m such a failure!”

*Two years later*

“I know about manifesting so why hasn’t anything changed!!!!”

3D-“ight bet”

*Ten years later*

*YOU LIVING THE SAME FUCK ASS LIFE YOU WERE AFRAID TO LIVE BECAUSE YOUR ASS WOULD NOT PERSIST*

☝🏾

So if you don’t want what’s up there

CHANGE YOUR ASSUMPTIONS

When your assumptions about the 4D changes the 3D changes

DO YOU NOT SEE THE PATTERN

YOU ARE THE REASON

THAT EVERYTHING WORKS OUT

OR YOU COULD BE THE REASON THAT EVERYTHING DOESN’T

Some of you like I was

Are too afraid to get your desires because you’ve chosen the assumption of failure over the assumption of success

Reason being is because you’re comfortable you may not be comfortable to yourself you may want out but if your doing nothing to prove you want OUT then your comfortable you like living like this knowing about manifestation the void shifting etc but not taking action is like saying you love your partner but never being there for them or saying you love yourself but continuing to allow people to abuse and hurt your self confidence

You have found comfort in being uncomfortable because being uncomfortable is all you know and it’s the only thing that makes you comfortable

YIKES

I know I touched some people with this

Trust me I use to be JUST like YOU

So if you don’t want this

CHANGE YOUR ASSUMPTIONS

Imma keep screaming at you til you do!

4D-“ Yo I look good today and nobody’s gonna tell me I look anybody cuz I’m pretty”

3D- ight,bet

4D-“I’m rich life is easy the void is within me”

NOTICE HOW THE 3D CONTINUES TO RESPOND THE SAME WAY

Because it’s simply a RESULT

If you took a test

You’re gonna use your mind thats full of knowledge to get a good result right?

So USE YOUR MIND

Your 4D USE IT!!

It’s not hard babe

It’s you

You created the void

You over complicate something you made?

If you made a school exam

You’d make it easy right????

For you and for others

So you created the void already

You have the rules

YOU MADE IT EASY

So why assume it’s hard?

You’re contradicting yourself

If you could use your mind to daydream you could use it to manifest

Make it fun

Fuck methods

Do what you want

I’m not gonna sugar coat shit baby

DO WHAT YOU WANT

Methods are tools

Use them if you want

METHODS SUBLIMINALS ETC ARE WANTS NOT NEEDS YOUR DESIRES ARE NOT NEEDS THEY ARE YOURS BECAUSE YOU ALREADY HAVE THEM

You keep

Falling asleep when lucid dreaming or entering the void

WHO SAYS YOU GOTTA BE SLEEPY BABY???

YOU CAN BE WIDE AWAKE LIKE KATY PERRY

If you feel yourself getting sleepy or drowsy

THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE PERFECT MOMENT TO START AFFIRMING

Pls in this moment

You’re like “ahhhh I’m soooo sleepy how do I stay awake”

BITCH START AFFIRM

CUZ YOU DEADASS ABOUT TO GET IN!!!

By “getting in” means becoming aware of your pure consciousness state cuz you’re not

“Going anywhere”

You’re becoming aware that it exists

You know it does cuz you’re the reason it exists

But you’re becoming aware

Like you know outside there’s people

And stores

But when you go out there to experience you’re aware of it

But why would you be surprised you already knew it was people outside?

Your conscious mind is always active

So you could do rn if you really want to

It’s there

You being alive is powerful

Because you being here is the reason the void exists in you

You control it

Not the opposite

I LOVE YOU

Deadass

Much love Honey🩵💕

Close your eyes until you see specs like this

Hypnotize your mind block out all the noise and enter the void

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that-bwitch · 3 days

Text

yellow hearts

summary: the times you put yellow hearts around his name, and the times he put them around yours.

pairing: sirius black x reader

warning: sappy fluff

wc: 1.6k

a/n: yellow hearts by ant saunders. a cute little thing I made upon hearing this song after many many years. finally able to write something short!

“Girl, what is this?!”

You whine, slamming your diary shut. Your cheeks suddenly feel hot and you try your hardest to avoid Lily’s prying gaze. She tries to look over your shoulder again, letting out a disappointed groan at the sight of a shiny cover.

“Just… Zip it,” you sigh, still flustered and really embarrassed. “You didn’t see anything!”

“No, no, I definitely just saw it!” Lily shouts and you have to hush her, noticing a few people at the table giving you weird glances. “Was it “Sirius” with hearts around?” she asks, her voice a bit calmer but still conveying the same emotions.

“No…”

You stutter, giving yourself completely and irrevocably away. Your eyes make an automatic roll and you scoot over to make space for your friend. Lily plops down next to you, her eager hands already reaching for your little navy-blue diary. Before you have time to hide it, she snatches the book from you and starts flicking through the pages, ignoring whatever is written on them. Finally, she finds the right page and bends the spine of the diary to have a better look.

Here it is, in all its glory. A “Sirius” with shiny yellow hearts drawn all around.

“Eww!!!”

Lily wrinkles her whole face, looking at you and then at your scribbles again.

“Don’t tell me it’s that prat Black from our year! Is it?!”

You sigh, taking the diary from her and putting it safely in your bag.

“Who else has the name, Lily? Think.”

You stare down at your breakfast, hoping that as long as you don’t look at your friend, she will miraculously forget about your existence.

“But he hangs out with Potter and they’re a bunch of tossers!” Lily’s voice is loud again, earning you a few more concerned looks.

You sigh again, biting on a slice of bacon.

“Maybe,” you mumble with your mouth full.

Lily rolls her eyes. Her plate remains untouched as she turns to you, fully intending to push for more information.

“And since when?” she demands, raising her eyebrow. You start to feel like a criminal being questioned in court.

“Last year,” you answer reluctantly, knowing that she won’t let you be if you don’t pour your whole heart out right here and now.

Lily scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief.

“This is so messed up! What’re you gonna do?”

You don’t reply. You don’t know yet. You don’t plan to ever know. But you don’t stop your sappy scribbles – you just make sure Lily never sees them again.

The second time someone sees the yellow hearts is much, much worse.

It’s your fifth year. You lost the diary a couple of days ago and you go absolutely mental trying to remember all the places you could have left it at. Your heartbeat briefly stops every time you think of a possibility of someone finding it, reading it and knowing it all.

“Oi, come on! It’s not like fancying Black is just a you thing!”

Lily tries to calm you down as best as she can. She has been lightly teasing you about your crush on Sirius for the previous two years, but she sees your worry and, being a good friend she is, hugs you and helps you on a secret mission to search every single classroom for any signs of the diary. Unfortunately, no luck.

“Lily, shut up! I have a wand and I’m not afraid to use it.”

You nibble on your nails for the hundredth time today – a nasty habit you have developed ever since losing the only way to let out your growing feelings towards a certain someone.

“What? The whole school is mad about him and his pack of tossers! No one’d blink an eye.”

“But what if he finds it?!”

“He finds what?”

You freeze at the sound of a voice, and not just a voice, his voice. A young fellow appears from behind the bench you’re sitting on, followed by three other guys, all snickering and whispering something to each other.

“Hello there, ladies,” Sirius murmurs, making a funny little bow.

“Black, shut it!” Lily immediately retorts, noticing your hopeless gaze. “Keep walking, and you might just live.”

“Well, I would, but I may have something you’re looking for.”

No. No, no, no, no.

A small navy-blue book appears in his hand and you suddenly feel like the bottom of the lake wouldn’t be such a horrible spot to be in. Lily’s eyes are wide and you think that if she had an ability to cast spells with just her eyes, she would use it right at this moment.

“Where the hell-” she starts, but you cut her off, not willing to prolong the already tense and miserable moment.

“Sirius, please, give it back.”

Your voice trembles treacherously and you mentally curse yourself for such a poor attempt at hiding your emotions. A thought of trading your face for a brick wall doesn’t seem that unappealing.

To your surprise, Sirius hands you the book without any of his usual shenanigans that you would normally expect. Your fingers brush his as you snatch the diary from him and you hold in a gasp; you would not mind becoming a delicious meal for the mermaids to munch on.

Sirius turns on his heels to leave, but then stops abruptly, as if he forgot something. A moment later, he’s at your ear, his breath warming up your already flaming hot cheek.

“I like yellow,” he whispers as his lips graze against your stray baby hairs; they suddenly feel like а bouquet of exposed nerves.

He leaves, shameless about the fact that his actions made your heart perform acrobatics within the bounds of your ribcage.

“What did he say?!” Lily repeats over and over, but you can barely hear her voice. You flip through the pages erratically and the right one catches your eye at last. A glaring “Sirius” with yellow hearts around it. You notice another name at the bottom of the page. A name of your own, staring right at you. And around it, the same yellow hearts.

The third time someone sees the yellow hearts you aren’t anxious anymore.

It’s your seventh year. Exams are approaching, but seeing as your boyfriend is Sirius Black, it’s hard to get any actual studying done. You have been dating for quite a while now, but it still feels… new.

You’re in Transfiguration together. He sits several rows behind you – a rule McGonagall made just a week prior, “For your own good”, as she said, because together you weren’t making much progress. But he still finds ways to remind you of his presence – he makes paper birds, charming them to fly right to you. Sometimes they’re just pretty birds, sometimes they’re notes with some silly poem he wrote for you, just to make you laugh and earn a warning from Minerva – for both of you, because the source of your distraction is really obvious.

Another bird lands on the desk in front of you. You quickly glance at McGonagall and, much to your contentment, notice that she’s preoccupied with her textbook.

“Hey,” you hear a whisper from behind. Of course, you recognize Sirius. He grins at you and gestures to unfold the origami. Even before you can do it, you see a sheer golden glow emanating from within. Your smile grows wider as you open the poor bird and see the letters scribbled down on a piece of parchment.

Your name. And yellow hearts around it.

McGonagall clears her throat somewhere above you. Her menacing glare tries to burn a hole in your head, but you don’t really care. You give her a sorry nonetheless.

“Shall I teach special classes, so that you attend in the morning and Mr. Black – in the evening?” the professor demands, but you see glimmers of amusement in her eyes. She briefly glances at the note she took from you and gives you and Sirius one of her raised-eyebrow looks, but you see the corners of her mouth lift up ever so slightly. You hear Sirius chuckle, close your eyes and smile. You don’t need anyone else.

The fourth time yellow hearts frame not one name, but two.

You and Sirius have just returned from your honeymoon. You have a whole stack of polaroids from your trip and you want to pick just one to put on the fridge in your shared home. The job proves to be rather difficult. You almost have a fight, which is so stupid and insignificant, but so you.

“Babe, this one is obviously superior! You see how stunning I am in this jacket?!”

“Yeah, and I’m blinking like an idiot because the sun is right up in my face. Sirius, babe, not everything has to be about you.”

You finally choose the one. It’s the last polaroid in your stack and you just can’t take your eyes off of it. In the picture, you’re waving at the camera and laughing, with an ice cream cone in your hand. Sirius pulls you in for a kiss and when he leans away, his nose is adorned with a spot of white ice cream.

You can’t help giggling, show the polaroid to Sirius and he does the same.

“This is it,” you say simultaneously and cackle at your apparently developed skill in Legilimency.

“Just a moment.”

Sirius stops you from taking the picture, takes out a sharpie and writes something on a white area at the bottom of it. He takes out his wand, silently waves it in front of the picture and only then goes up to the fridge and puts it up with many others. He steps back to have a better look at his creation.

You’re flustered, but a joyful smile doesn’t leave your lips. Sirius understands and places a gentle kiss on your temple. You look at the words written on the polaroid once more.

A “Sirius” and then your name below it. Around it, shiny yellow hearts shimmering in the sun and casting an array of rainbow specks all over the kitchen.

my masterlist

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #the marauders #the marauders era #the marauders imagine #the marauders fanfiction

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hellisharchive · 1 day

Text

・﹒・ i am a god, now bow

Summary: Adam was an angel that you've come to hate, from his attitude to the fact that you're privy to knowing about the exterminations led by him, you never liked him. He wasn't ignorant to this hatred, and wanted you to know just how much you should be praising him instead.

Warnings: 18+, degradation, blowjob (m receiving), dacryphilia, dub-con, hair pulling

Pairing: Adam x GN!reader

Notes: Again I literally dont know wtf im doing with smut yet i continue to write it. Not beta read as always forgive any mistakes

Heaven was perfect, when was it not? Every second was full of happiness and joy and beauty. Well, it was when Adam wasn't around. He was the bane of your existence and made every second of him being around pure Hell. He was arrogant, cocky, and always liked making an ass out of you. Every interaction with him was insufferable. You don't make your hatred outwardly known to him- but you do act snarky on purpose and deflect his attitude right back. He needs to be put in his place.

He normally talks to you on the promenade since you actively try to avoid him everywhere else, you know he does this on purpose. He just loves talking to you every chance he gets, always here with a Lute usually slurping loudly on whatever drink he has that day. That also pissed you off. You would avoid this part of Heaven if you could, but Saint Peter was your friend so it was easier just to hang around here for when he takes breaks. He knows about your disdain for Adam and usually tries to calm you down. It usually works, but some days it doesn't. Today was that day.

"Peter, I just can't stand him! He's such an ass and I swear he always tries to makes me as pissed off as possible!" You groaned as you felt his hand gently rub your back, being careful to mind your wings, as he knew talking would just interrupt your venting.

"I don't know why he's and asshole! Like sure he's the first man ever created. Cool I guess? No reason to be so arrogant ugh! Yesterday he literally told me that-" before you could tell your friend what bullshit Adam said, the man himself made himself known.

"Told you what? That I got a big dick?" He smirked as he approached, how long was he there for? You froze and stared at him for a second before regaining your composure and taking a deep breath.

"Fuck no, go away asshole before I make you" You scoffed and looked over at Peter who looked so nervous that he wanted to fly away. You felt bad because you didn't want him to be involved with all of this. "Come on Peter, let's-" You aimed to grab his arm to pull him away, but a hand wrapped around yours first, and it wasn't Peter's. Turning, you saw Adam gripping your wirst with a smirk on his face and he started to pull you in his direction.

"Hey! Let go of me asshole!" You struggled against him, but due to his size and strength, he was successfully dragging you before opening up a portal and throwing you in. You had no time to fight back as you hit something soft, looking around in disbelief, you were on a bed. Were you in his bedroom? Looking ahead, you watched as he walked through the yellow portal and closing it once he was fully inside.

"Nah, you need to learn your place, bitch. Now start undressing, or do you want me to do it?" You just stared at him in shock, eyes wide as you quickly shuffled to the other side of the bed, hitting the headboard too soon. He ripped off his mask, revealing short brown hair, and his smirk seemed even more imposing as he snapped off his robes to be only in his underwear. You didn't want to, but if he can do that, then you might as well retain some dignity and do it yourself.

"Fine! Fine! I will" You knew he was going to fuck you, you knew how he was, but for some reason you couldn't say no. Why couldn't you? You hated him, yet you're taking this treatment. Yet you couldn't deny that some weird part of you liked this, why did you like this? Gulping, you watched as he stared at you hungerly while you took your shirt off- being careful to mind your wings- and then your pants. As soon as you were just in your underwear, he pounced on you, caging you in with nowhere to go.

"You know you can always say no, back out now and we can forget all of this, I won't be upset" He leaned close and whispered in your ear before pulling back and hovering just a few inches away from your face. Your heart beat faster and you stared at him with a bated breath. He was giving you an out? He was giving you and out.

"Fuck it" You mumbled before grabbing his neck and pulling him in for a kiss, smashing against his lips, he happily returned the passion. It didn't last last, however, as he pushed off of you and stood up.

"On your knees" Only in your underwear, you obeyed him despite the nagging feeling of embarrassement. Nobody has ever told you to do that much less you complying without argument. But you did anyways, you still hated him, you were sure. Now on your knees on the floor, almost naked, you looked up at the first man who had on his signature smirk.

"Suck my cock, Bitch" You were starting to have doubts now, seeping into your veins. Now you were thinking that this was a really bad idea. When you didn't move, Adam snarled and grabbed your hair, pulling you closer to his clothed cock. The action caused you to yelp and tears to form in your eyes.

"Fucking do it, I am your god and you should treat me like one" Taking deep breaths, you harshly pulled away from his grasp, him letting go of your hair, as you felt the conflicting emotions flicker in your mind- and body. A part of you knows you shouldn't be treated like this by someone who aren't even in a relationship with. But the other part loves the thrill and adrenaline and were getting noticeably wet. Glaring at him, you took your shaky hands and wrapped them around the waistband of his underwear. Taking the plunge- you pulled them down all in one go. It was a little bigger than average, but it was quite girthy. You said nothing as you stared.

"I am your god and this is how you earn my forgiveness. In fact, I want you to beg for my cock" You froze as his words, he wants you to beg now? You should just stand up, grab your clothes, and storm off at his treatment of you. He was disgusting. Yet- here you were, you already were on your knees for him, you already were this far. Well, if he wanted to play that game, you might as well give it your all. Swallowing your pride, you caved.

"Please Adam, let me suck your cock" Your voice was shaky, not firm at all and that caused a huff from him.

"I'm not convinced" Breathing in, you muster up all the confidence you could.

"Please Adam, I want to suck you off until you're dry and your cum is spilling all over me" Your pride completely disappeared as you stared up at him with narrowed eyes, hating the way he made you feel, hating how he could make you do such things that no other man could. But, he bent down and grabbed your face with both of his hands as his lips ghosted yours.

"That's more like it, Slut" He whispered, causing chills to go down your spine as he roughly released you, before shoving your head to his dick again. This time, you felt it rest against the side of your cheek, causing your face to ignite with heat. Pride long gone, you pushed back against his thighs and his cock suddenly became intimidating to you. You were supposed to fit that in your mouth.

"I don't have all day, Bitch" Sighing, you gently grabbed his member and started to rub back and forth lightly, testing the waters. He hitched his breath before he mumbled something you couldn't hear. Leaning closer, you gave a kitten lick to his tip and you could watch his thigh tense up slightly. Deciding to dive in- you swirled around the top of his shaft and sucked just at the head. You felt his hand hold the back of your head and push you in a bit, and you felt the sudden intrusion of his cock in your mouth. Stopping your ministrations, you sent a death glare his way and he just put on a happy innocent smile.

But you continued anyways- going deeper and slowly taking him all in while wrapping your tongue around him. You heard him breath out "fuck" as you started to bob your head back and forth, increasing with speed as you sucked on him, holding onto his thighs tightly. You then felt his hand on your head again as he guided you, wanting you to go faster. Tears brimmed your eyes again as your mouth was completely full and you were going so fast now. Yet, you couldn't help but feel yourself get even wetter, why? He was a terrible person.

"Fuck I'm close... You ready to swallow the first man's seed?" If you were able to roll your eyes, you would, but just as he said that, his cum spilled all in your mouth. It was somewhat salty, milky nonetheless, and thick. His cock was slowly eased out of you as you swallowed and coughed, bracing your hands on the floor as some of your mixed saliva and his cum spilled, making a small puddle. You sat and caught your breath as Adam leaned down, gripping your chin in his hand, he forced you to look up at him with tears growing in your vision, shame washing over you.

"I like it when you cry, Bitch, because you know your place. You are below me and always will be. You are a peasant, and I am your god"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader

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oneofstarkskids · 22 hours

Text

don't say that (part 3)

part 1 , part 2

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

genre: ANGST

summary: sad, beautiful, tragic by taylor swift

*not my gif*

you walked down the cold street with a note buried deep in your pocket. it held all the words you wanted to say, but didn't. you could only hope that it wasn't too late.

you knocked on the door softly, your heart racing. the locks clicked one by one from the other side until it finally swung open. "hi," you whispered.

the red-head looked down, she didn't know what to say to you. she preferred not to say anything at all.

"i know you probably don't ever want to see me again and so do with this what you will, but i had to get it off my chest." you handed her the slightly crumpled letter. you gave her a hopeful smile. one that simultaneously felt like a goodbye.

with that, you walked away. natasha didn't read the letter until you left and you didn't look back. maybe you would never know if she could forgive you, but you would wait.

you go back to your empty apartment. you would honestly rather be anywhere but here. as you look around, the memories those walls held seem to come to life right in front of you. you almost didn't notice the hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

the way you'd laugh as he spun you around or kissed on countertops. it felt tragic to think about. you often wondered...if things had begun differently, would you have had your happy ending?

it didn't seem to matter anymore. he was gone. you didn't even know where. maybe steve had mentioned him staying with him for a while, but it all felt like a blur. you didn't care where he was if he wasn't here with you.

you cursed yourself for thinking that way. this is for the best, you reminded yourself. but time was sure taking its sweet time erasing him.

your mind wandered back to that night. the night you freaked out on him. the night he left. your hand went up to your heart, trying to hold it together. he probably hated you now. natasha hated you. your friends would never see you the same. and you deserved all of it.

but just for a moment, you had it. the kind of love they say is like magic. the kind that makes your head spin. it really was just the two of you in your own world before that world fell apart.

he called you. just once. you answered, of course.

it ended in a fight.

"just come back home," you begged.

"you wanted space. i'm giving you space," he said harshly.

you rolled your eyes, "you're the one who called me."

"because i still fucking love you. not everyone can just fall out of love at the flip of a switch," he shouted on the other end.

you squeezed your eyes closed as your voice shook, "i never stopped loving you. i never said that."

he continued talking like your words meant nothing to him, "you didn't have to."

"oh my god! would you just try to listen for once!" you cried.

there was a long silence between the two of you.

you took a deep breath and mustered the strength to do what needed to be done. "goodbye, bucky."

he heard a final beep and clenched his jaw as tears pricked his eyes.

it was over.

but then again, how could something be gone if it never existed in the first place?

taglist:

@immyowndefender @ozwriterchick @vicmc624 @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

#marvel #mcu #fanfiction #avengers #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes angst #sad fic #taylor swift #sad beautiful tragic #bucky barnes x reader

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kitorin · 3 days

Text

misalignment (n).

/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/

the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else. "in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."

contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)

Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.

The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.

If years of friendship accompanied by unreciprocated feelings could teach him anything, it was that, to spend time with you, lining up was a prerequisite for Reo.

Free time for you was defined by work's leniency (which seldom seems to happen, but at least you enjoyed it), and the occasional period where you weren't obsessing over a drama or book series.

After that section of the queue, was quite literally everyone else. An invitation from you meant that Yukimiya was too preoccupied with modelling, Rin's overseas, Nagi was too lazy to respond and left you on read, Isagi's busy training, Kunigami's at the gym, and Hiori didn't have the time to travel that far.

Finally there was Reo, back up plan Reo, the friend that you could go to when no one was available; the friend you liked enough to spend time with but not enough to prioritise.

He steals a glance at you as you keenly sip from your glass. Self-hatred chews at his conscience, but the livid, and tired part of him shoos it away.

It's not a very nice thing to accuse one of thinking of another so lowly, especially a close friend, however the explicit signs of him holding little significance in comparison to others seemed to validate it. You and he have been drinking for a while now, without much word other than the 'hello's and quiet greetings when you first saw each other.

It's normal, the silence. It's just how things worked between you and Reo. Neither of you were particularly social, words weren't necessary to enjoy time together, that was one of Reo's favourite things about you.

He's always tired of speaking, having to maintain flawless image, that included appearing as someone sociable and eager to speak with others.

But with you, that expectation was nowhere to be seen.

You're now adults, but this is nothing different from the quiet walks to the bus stop back in high school. The ones where he'd do his best to steal a glance of how you look, soaked within the sunlight while smiling.

Chatter permeates the bar's atmosphere gently a few clinks of glasses can be heard which followed hearty laughter and the occasional cheer.

You're first to talk. "How's university been?"

"Good." Was the workload horrendous? Yes, and so was adulthood in general. Reo knows he has it easy; he can afford it easily and could still live comfortably without working a day in his life. But he still yearns for the same feeling high school had. "Hakuho was fun though."

You place your drink down, swallowing. "I know right? Never thought I'd say this, but I miss high school. It sucked most of the time. But you and the others made it so much better.”

Reo nods, as he gulps down more alcohol. “I miss it too. How has studying been for you?”

You huff. “It’s a lot. I feel like I spend more time studying than doing anything else. But it’s good. I don’t mind since I’m actually studying something I’m passionate about, you know?”

“I’m glad, then.” Reo stares at his whisky, swirling the amber in his glass. “Proud of you. I really am. You’ve come so far, and I just know you’re going to do well.”

Growing from a clueless high schooler to a driven, impassioned, medical student. A lot has changed, years pass yet he remains unloved by you.

God there he goes again, lamenting on his paltriness. It must be a relative of masochism; he could be safe and secure at home with a good book and cup of tea, yet he’s here drinking with the source of his pain, while tethering on the border of being intoxicated with alcohol instead of heartbreak.

With each drink, a wave of euphoria swallows him up, licking up his misery as if it were sand on the shore. Rationality and emotion bicker like seagulls quarrelling over food.

You laugh at his sweet words. “You drunk? Thanks though.”

“Drunk or not, I mean it. Seriously.” Reo knows his limits, but doesn’t bother correcting you. His face feels hot, not because of the soju, but because of you.

You’ve always been pretty, to a ridiculous extent. But absurd how a few years changes you so much. Reo can’t even identify the changes, he just knows you’ve gotten prettier; that his heart races faster whenever he sees you.

“Seriously.” You echo, and nod, and smile. “I miss seeing you every day. School was so much fun with you around.”

Another hasty gulp of soju. Reo can’t stand hearing those words.

I hate you.

Is it directed to you, or himself? Not even Reo’s quite sure. He does his best to ignore your kindness, if it were true then he would’ve been addressed you with a smile in the same way you’d speak to anyone else; he would know how his name sounds off your tongue. He would mean more than a last option, and all those texts wouldn’t be left on read, viewed out of genuine care rather than basic manners.

Even though he can go on about unfair this feels, it’s ultimately his fault for still spending so much time with you. You’re supposed to cut off the people who don’t value you. You’re supposed to only care for the ones who’d do the same for you. Reo should’ve cut ties with you long ago, yet he clings onto your relationship as if it meant more than anything else.

I miss seeing you at school everyday. Your words echo, and he does his best not to choke on his drink.

Formalities, not affection. It's not love, it's your way of manners. If you truly did care you'd be spewing those sorts of words out constantly, like when you're with Chigiri, or Anri.

"Reo? You good?"

"Yeah. 'm fine." It's a reflex, he barely had time to register the words leaving his mouth. "Are you?"

"Yah. I'm not the drunk one here am I?" You chuckle to yourself, bringing the glass back to your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere. "Were you always a lightweight? Your face is so red."

"And yours is so pretty."

There he goes, ruining your night with something stupid.

"Yup. Definitely drunk. You're saying weird things now."

And with that, Reo commands, requests, pleads himself not to cry.

"You know." Another shot of soju is swallowed down by you, punctuated with a refreshed gasp. "The me a couple of years ago would've been overjoyed to hear that."

It feels as though every interaction with you accentuates his one-sided love and it stings; time with you is mere salt to the wound.

Neither of you say anything for a bit.

Reo can recall your confession, an awkward text sent after a couple of months the two of you actually spoke. There's an unspoken boundary between you two, to not being up the topic of each other's crushes or of your confession.

A fair rule, but it's harboured questions. Reo hasn't got a clue on your love life and crushes. He knows of your obsession with romantic dramas, always binging whatever's trending, screaming on social media about having to wait a full seven days for the next episode.

If only the two of you were a part of one. But even fiction would probably destine him for solitude woven of heartbreak.

"I think you're the drunk one. Why bring that up now?"

You've finally halted on drinking. "Dunno. That was my first confession."

And you're my first love—he wants to say it, it's at the tip of his tongue yet he can't muster it to say it aloud to himself or even to Nagi; let alone you.

"Well, it was an honour."

It wasn't. Because the thought always intrudes into his mind. What if you had confessed a couple of years later, or even at least two?

Or what if Reo hadn't taken his sweet time to fall in love with you, if he had told you he wanted to get to know you first instead of a simple rejection, would you be in his arms?

"Shut up. I was a stupid kid back then. I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you. Not anymore."

Reo scoffs, he can't even fantasise of the potential between you two. You liked Mikage you'd see in the hallways; rich and top of the school; not clingy old Reo who feels ever so slightly too much for everyone he cares for.

Whereas Reo couldn't care less about l/n that just transferred to his class, but would die for the y/n he discovered throughout the years.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Never thought you did." He knew you didn't.

It wouldn't've saved him from his doom of unrequited love, but the timing was terrible. The heavens should've made your infatuation and his adoration align, at the very least. Even if it meant Reo remaining unloved.

A hiccup follows a breathless giggle. "Who did you like in highschool? There had to be someone. Why didn't you ever tell me though? You had so many fans, you must've liked one of them."

Because it's you. "Because you never asked." Reo shrugs, almost impressed at his own feigned composure.

"Now I ammm." Now your words are beginning to slur. "Whooo?"

It's you. And still you. Reo could say it right here and now. You're essentially wasted and probably won't remember it. And if you did, he wouldn't mind crossing an ethical line and fibbing if it meant concealing his pathetic vulnerabilities.

Perhaps one day he'll tell you, if the uninterrupted storm ends, and the skies clear, if Mikage Reo's heart will one day stop aching for you.

"I'll tell ya some day. When I feel like it."

"What?! You're not allowed to add that much suspense—and not tell me in the end."

And perhaps in another universe, he and you can be of the same constellation, instead of being galaxies apart.

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

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dancinglikebutterflywings · 20 hours

Text

Ghosts are Real | Lee Felix

Pairing: Lee Felix x Ghost!Reader

Request: No. This is a repost from my old account and part of the Halloween special I did last year.

Synopsis: Felix doesn't want to believe ghosts are real until Hyunjin mentions Y/N, the resident ghost.

Warnings: I tried making this one spooky but it just ended up sweet because, after all, it's Felix. Mentions of death, exhaustion. Reader has a little brother.

Word Count: 1,303

Requests: Open.

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A chill runs down Felix’s spine as he hears a whisper that sounds right by his ear. He pauses the game he’s playing with Jeongin, causing the younger man to groan and drop his controller on the couch in annoyance. He was just about to beat Felix at Mario Kart for the 1000th time.

“Did you hear that?” Felix asks his friend as he looks around the room for someone else. He knows that it’s just him and Jeongin in their dorm. Minho is out visiting his family and cats and Seungmin is out filming a vlog with Changbin and Hyunjin.

Jeongin, slightly annoyed and thinking Felix is trying to distract him from winning this race, replies, “I didn’t hear anything.” He un-pauses the game only for Felix to pause it again causing Jeongin to become even more frustrated with his Hyung. “What the hell, Hyung?”

“We’re still the only one’s here, right?” he asks making sure no one had come back when he went to use the bathroom or when he went into his room to grab something.

Jeongin nods his head and stands up before disappearing into his bedroom. He comes back out a minute later holding his shoulder bag. “I need to go grab a few things. Do you need anything?”

“I’m good,” Felix shakes his head, exiting the game before switching it off.

After Jeongin leaves the apartment, Felix questions if he should have gone with him as an unsettling feeling falls over the apartment.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” his voice comes out soft as he tries to convince himself that the spectral beings don’t exist. His mind travels back to all the times someone has told them about their experiences with the paranormal.

The sound of something clattering on the floor causes him to jump and spin around, searching for what could have made the noise. He finds a metal chopstick laying on the kitchen floor. Confused and frightened, he picks it up, cleans it off and places it where they keep the chopsticks.

“Ghosts are still not real,” he tries to convince himself again and looks for ways the chopstick could have moved from the sink to the floor.

“-very real,” he hears a whisper. It was so quiet that if there was any other sound, he wouldn’t have heard it.

“No, you’re not,” he finds himself arguing with the faint voice. “You’re not real because ghosts don’t exist.”

Rushing into his room, he turns on his computer, grabs his headset and puts it on as he sits in his desk chair. As he’s about to load up his game, the computer switches off and reboots. The words ‘I am real.’ come across the black screen. Terrified he throws his headset off and hurries out of the room. He’s about to leave the apartment when Seungmin and Hyunjin make their way through the front door, causing him to scream in fright.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asks coming across his terrified friend, who is on the verge of tears.

“I think we need a new dorm,” he tells them, calming down and feeling a little better that he isn’t alone anymore. “I think this one is haunted.”

“I thought you don’t believe in ghosts?” Seungmin says as he moves into the kitchen to get himself a drink.

“I don’t want to,” he groans. “But too much weird shit goes on here. Things are moved, doors open and close and now I’m hearing voices. Maybe I’m going crazy.”

“Or you’ve finally met Y/N,” Hyunjin says like it’s no big deal. As someone who’s had sleep paralysis, he’s seen some weird shit and wasn’t all too surprised when he found out that the dorm the youngest three occupy with Minho is haunted.

Felix’s fear turns into confusion, “Y/N?”

“She’s your ghost,” he explains. “I’ve seen her a few times. She’s around our age and seems nice. But I think she’s a little lonely. It would be quite lonely being a ghost. No one can see, hear or touch you.”

Both Felix and Seungmin look at him stunned.

“Have you talked to her?” Seungmin asks, not sure if he should believe it himself.

“No, but I see her out the corner of my eye sometimes,” he says and turns to Felix. “If you’re noticing everything than maybe you should talk to her. Has she tried to reach out?”

“Something weird just happened with my computer and I know there’s no fault anywhere in it. I built it myself,” he admits. “What should I do?”

“Get a Ouija board,” Hyunjin suggests.

“I’m not getting one of those,” Felix shakes his head. “I’ll just download one of those apps.”

Later that night, Felix is in his bedroom, earphones in his ears as the static from the ghost talking app plays in his ears. All afternoon he’s been debating with himself whether he should do it or not. But his curiosity won out over his fear, and he downloaded the app he’s now bravely using. He wanted to know what was causing all the strange occurrences that’s been happening in the dorm and if any of what Hyunjin said is true.

“I don’t know why I’m doing this,” he sighs out loud.

“For me,” a faint woman’s voice cut through the static, surprising the blonde.

“Y/N?” he asks, his voice shaky and heart pounding against his chest. He looks around his bedroom trying to find any hint of another person being there. There’s nothing and no-one.

The same voice cuts through the static again. “Yes.”

He pulls his earphones out of his ears not quite believing what he’s hearing. He takes a minute to settle his racing heart and his mind before he puts the earphones back into his ears. The static fills his head again.

“Is your name really Y/N?” he asks wanting confirmation.

“L/N... Y/N...”

“Hyunjin’s right about you,” he says more to himself.

“Yes... Hyunjin... good.”

“He’s going to lose his mind when I tell him about this,” after he says that he hears a giggle come through. He can’t help the smile that makes its way on to his lips. She has pretty laugh. “What happened to you?”

“I... died,” he hears.

“Obviously. How did you die?” he asks.

“...Exhausted...”

“Were you young?”

“21.”

“Way too young,” he suddenly feels sad. He’s only a few years older than she was. He feels like he still has so much to do and couldn’t imagine what it would be like having your life cut short before you can even live it fully. It makes him realize how truly blessed he is to be alive and living his dreams and reaching accomplishment after accomplishment. “I’m sorry you never got the chance to live a full life.”

“Me... too...” her voice comes through again. “But... I lived... good... life... in years... had.”

Feeling more at ease than earlier, he settles on his bed and spends the rest of the night talking to Y/N as if they were two new friends getting to know each other.

Y/N told him all about her life when she was alive, her baby brother who she often goes and watches over, that Seungmin’s bedroom use to be her bedroom, but she always liked Felix’s the best because of the view and the way the sunlight and the moonlight would shine through the windows. He told her he doesn’t mind sharing the room with her and told her about how he’s living his dream with his seven best friends, how he gets to travel abroad, and do everything that he does. He even told her about his family and Australia.

Eventually, he falls asleep with the static from the app still playing in his ears and making a mental note to talk to Hyunjin, telling him everything he learned about Y/N.

Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you.

TAGGING: @staytiny2000 - @everythingboutkpop - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry

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treacheryinblue · 1 day

Text

A Noah Sebastian x F!Reader One Shot

Word Count: 5.2k

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (cut me some slack as I get back into it •‿• ), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff, slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Story Song: God Complex by VIOLENT VIRA

There was an ache in your lungs with every labored breath you took, each one more strained than the last. You could hear his heavy steps trailing not far behind, and even though your calves were burning and you weren't sure how much longer you could carry on, you forced yourself to keep going. The pain didn't matter. All that did was the drive to stay alive.

'Just a bit longer’, you would tell yourself. A vain hope that the man would tire out eventually and give up. All you had to do was outlast him. A simple task, right?

Wrong.

Small branches snapped beneath your bare feet as you did your very best to avoid low tree limbs and protruding roots from the ground. You dodged every obstacle, though you were only leading yourself deeper and deeper into the unknown woods in the process.

You could hear his maniacal laughter over your shoulder, and you swore you could even feel his breath pass your skin, but there was no way he was that close without having snagged you yet. Finally, you took a sharp right turn and pressed your back up against the opposite side of a rather large tree. Tears streamed down your face, your hand covering your mouth to keep your sobs and heavy breathing muffled.

“Come out, come out…” the man taunted, amusement evident in his sadistic tone. “We need to finish what we started or else it’s six feet under for both of us.”

You forced your eyes closed, squeezing them as tight as possible. Maybe you would open them and be in your bed, all of this having been some sick and twisted nightmare. Unfortunately, that's not what lied ahead for you.

Rough hands secured around your shoulders, forcing you down to the dirt without a hint of remorse. A scream erupted from you due to the sudden action, as well as the fear, obviously.

“No! Please stop!” You pleaded while your fists tried their very best to bang against his chest, face, head - really anywhere you could reach. “Just let me go!”

“Help! Someone help! Please!”

The man’s laughter echoed through the woods and soon he had managed to pin your hands down on either side of your head. You squirmed and writhed beneath him, desperate to escape the heavy weight of his body being placed down on to you.

“There's no one out here to save you, princess.” He somehow shifted your wrists into one of his hands, leaving the other free to dip down. “It's just the two of us.”

There was a glint from the faint glow of moonlight shining off the blade he produced. The sight of it instantly silenced you, your eyes growing wide in terror. “Please...” you continued to beg through your tears, but it was as if the man couldn't hear a thing. Not that he cared about what you had to say.

Then, without hesitation, he was forcing the knife at an angle up into your stomach. You gasped as the pain consumed you, too stunned to cry out again. Or maybe you were becoming too weak, due to the loss of blood and all. The man didn't stop there, though. He retracted the knife, shifted a bit, just before plunging it down into your chest. Another gasp escaped you, but this one didn't seem to hurt as bad as the first. Actually…you didn't feel much of anything anymore.

Although there was a warmth consuming you, your assumption was that it was just the blood escaping from your body and pooling, but the deeper you progressed into the darkness, the more you began to believe that wasn't entirely true.

× × ×

Suddenly, your eyes snapped open and you were staring up at a high, dark ceiling, and not the previous trees you had just been surrounded by. Your hands flew to your chest in search of the wound, then down to your stomach, but there was nothing. All that remained was the blood stains and the agonizing memory of your death.

“Thirteen stab wounds…a bit of an overkill.”

An unknown voice came from somewhere within the room, frightening you in a way that made you quickly sit up and snap your head around in search of the source.

“Oh, ritual sacrifice? That's fun. Haven't seen that in a few decades. Gotta say, though, the thirteen is really bugging me. It's so cliche.”

You could sense someone circling you just within the shadows of the room, making sure to stay deep enough to not be revealed quite yet.

“Who…where am I?” The trembling of your voice was thick with fear, and even now a fresh set of tears began to well within your eyes. “Am I dead?”

“You're a smart one, huh? It usually takes people way too long to figure that out.”

Slowly, a figure emerged from the shadows directly in front of you, though the man now standing there kept his distance. He appeared to be roughly the same age as you, wearing all black with his hands clasped behind him. His face was void of emotion despite the amusement you swore you could hear in his previous statements, but there was a gleam in his dark eyes that you couldn't quite place.

As much as you didn't want to admit it, he was rather beautiful.

With a faint nod, you sniffed and finally pulled your gaze from his just so you could take a glance around the room. What you initially thought was a large empty space, was actually an oversized living area of sorts. You could just slightly make out the outline of furniture and art pieces, a new item making itself known with every shift of your eyes. When you looked back to the man, he was closer, his tall form crouching in front of you with a bend of his knees.

“You seem sad,” he pointed out, his brow furrowing while examining you with only his eyes.

“Well…I'm dead apparently, so…”

“No,” he sternly responded almost before you could finish saying the words. “This is different.”

Long fingers reached out, and at first you flinched away, until he sent an intense stare into your eyes that made you turn your head back to its natural position. A finger pressed beneath your chin to tilt your head up, the man fixating on every possible inch of your face. Then, without a word, he produced a devilish smile.

“Very interesting.”

With him taking a firm grasp of your chin, you sharply inhaled and dropped your knees to the side so you could lean in closer to him. He was standing up now, but bent at the waist so he towered above you, your eyes remaining level. “I think I'm going to keep you…at least for a bit.”

“A bit?” You repeated, your curiosities bringing forth another smile from him.

“Just a few centuries or so.”

The man’s hold of your face began to soften until his fingertips were just ever so lightly cradling your jaw. He could sense your confusion and hesitancy towards his words, thus leading to his new approach.

“Let's get you cleaned up.”

× × ×

Moments later you were standing within a lavish bathroom after having walked with awe through…wherever you were. You weren't sure if it was a home, a conjured image, or what, but you were in too much shock still to question it. What you did notice during your walk, was that everything was very gothic. The architecture, the decor, the artwork that hung on the walls - all of it giving off a certain vibe of its own.

What really tied it all together was the deep color scheme that made you feel as if you fit right in; with the dried blood on your clothes and what not.

A large claw foot tub sat in the middle of the bathroom with steaming water running from the faucet. He looked at you, then motioned to the tub, making a clear request for you to get in. When you didn't, he arched his brow with a silent question.

“You're still in here…” you explained, like that wasn't already obvious enough.

When the realization of what you meant dawned on him, he produced a chuckle, slowly nodding. “Nothing I haven't seen before, I can guarantee.”

“Since you've never seen me naked before, it actually is.”

He heavily sighed, but then begrudgingly turned so his back was facing out, his front angled towards the corner.

“Is this better?”

You didn't respond. Instead, you stood still for another long moment before finally beginning to strip out of your soiled death clothes. Chills formed over your skin as the cool air encompassed you, this helping guide you faster to the awaiting bathtub so you could seek out the warmth again.

Only when he heard the water settle, did he turn back around, slow steps approaching the tub. You glanced up to him, arms folded over your chest, legs crossed and pressed together to keep yourself hidden beneath the water. He didn't attempt to look, though, for his sights remained locked on your face. The way he was looking at you was rather odd, but there were many other questions that you wanted answered before the one that had to do with that.

“So…do you have a name?”

“Many,” he responded without hesitation. How was he always so quick?

“Okay, well, what do you want me to call you out of these many names?”

Taking in a deep breath, he slowly exhaled, using this brief moment to ponder your question. “You can call me Noah.”

You snorted out a laugh only because the name given was far more normal than you were expecting. “Noah?” You repeated as yet another question for him.

“It means ‘to rest',” he explained without even a hint of a smile. Something was telling you that he didn't find this taunt of yours to be entertaining in the least bit.

“Okay, Noah, can I now know where I am?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?”

Cue your deep, prolonged sigh.

“I was used as a sacrifice, stabbed in the woods, I died, then I woke up here. Did I freak out even once? No. I think I'm deserving of some answers.”

Noah didn't dare try to hide the smirk conjured by your feisty demeanor. To be honest, he was impressed, at the very least. He gave a single nod as he crossed the bathroom to retrieve a solid black washcloth from a neatly folded pile of items. Joining you again, he dropped the washcloth into the water, then sat on the edge of the tub down near your feet.

“The afterlife, Hell, the underworld - whatever you want to call it, that's where this is, though it's really a realm of its own. An entirely different plane from Earth. That's the easiest way to explain it.”

You had started cleaning your skin with the cloth and soap provided, soon turning the clear water red with your washed away blood. As he spoke, your eyes focused on his face, more specifically the way his jaw moved with every word. It was then that you noticed flashes of color popping up from over the black turtleneck he wore, permanent etchings that accompanied those you had glimpsed on his hands.

Huh, you never thought of someone like him as being the tattoo type. You know, a being beyond most human comprehension.

“So…what? You're the Devil?”

This caused him to laugh, a deep chuckle erupting from his chest which told you that it was a genuine response.

“Sure, if that's who you need to think of me as. Though I prefer to see myself as being more complex than a red man with a pitchfork and horns surrounded by flames…and much more handsome.”

Your eyes traveled from his neck and back to his face before settling on the sharp angle of his nose, then his lips. Of course the man who was basically the Devil would be handsome…you should've known that to be true already. The wash cloth still rubbing along your skin slowed at your chest, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you admired him.

Why weren't you scared? Any logical person would've been, but you were more concerned with viewing more of that enticing tattoo that was teasing you. What was it? How far down did it go? Did he have more? Although the water was hot that you were submerged in, you somehow felt a chill radiate down your spine. When you finally looked back up, Noah was watching you, that previous gleam returning to his eyes.

“You didn't hear a word I said, did you?” He scolded, before then lifting himself from the edge of the bathtub again.

You opened your mouth to speak, though nothing sounded like it would be the right answer. Instead of replying, you just closed your mouth and held his gaze.

“What if I had revealed a secret of the universe to you? All while you were too busy thinking of me naked?”

“What? I wasn't thinking about that!” You scoffed in defense.

Noah had shrugged off his jacket as you struggled to find your voice, the long sleeve shirt he wore also being tossed aside next until he was fully bare from the hips up. He didn't linger in front of you for too long; his steps around to the back of the tub only allowing you a quick moment to study the tattoos that were inked across the entirety of his torso and arms.

“Do you know how I know you were thinking that? Aside from the blush that's risen to your cheeks?”

You sharply inhaled as you felt his hands on your shoulders, your heartbeat immediately picking up in pace. Again - any logical person would be terrified.

“Because you told me you were…last time.”

The tattooed hands on your shoulders tightened their grip, his thumbs rubbing soothing yet firm circles into the base of your neck. You knew he was trying to keep you relaxed as he revealed something that sounded kind of important, but your eyes were closed and you were already lost in the sensations.

“Last time?” You murmured softly as the task of processing his words took longer than they typically would.

Noah’s breath fanned across the side of your neck and his hands began a slow journey down to your chest, pausing just before getting to the hardened peaks that were now your nipples. You could feel him smirk against your skin, then he was palming your breasts, pulling forth the faintest of moans from under your breath.

“Would you believe me if I told you that this is the ninth time we've encountered each other? Thousands and thousands of years, and your face is the only one I've seen more than once.”

He released the hold he had on your chest, now brushing your hair away from your neck so he could plant need-filled kisses along the elegant arch. The loss of contact caused you to pout, your eyes opening to see that a mirror had appeared on the wall opposite of the tub. It gave you a clear view of him behind you, and the fire burning within his eyes that was becoming more and more familiar.

“Don't worry, you'll remember. It never takes too long.”

The words you wanted to say still refused to be voiced, all because Noah was distracting you with his mouth and hands. The latter snaked around to the front of your throat, his fingers securing until he was able to force your head to angle up towards him. His mouth then claimed yours in a heated kiss that clouded all of your senses, refusing to let you touch, taste, or feel anything that wasn't him.

Your upper body twisted to the best of its abilities until you could tangle your fingers into his hair. The kiss was deepened, his tongue pushing past your lips first to begin the fight for dominance over your mouth. There was something familiar about all of this, almost like you knew exactly what to do to receive certain reactions from him. You knew that pulling his hair would make him hiss and rut against you - had you been in the correct position - and something as simple as biting his lip would have him turning you over and pulling you back against him in a matter of seconds.

But how did you know that? That was the question now plaguing your mind.

It didn't linger for long, though. It was impossible to let it when Noah’s hand mimicked your own, a handful of your hair now in his grasp so he could force your head back. You whimpered at the painful sensation that vibrated straight down to your core. His opposite hand again began a downwards trek, dropping into the water so he could force your thighs apart.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his breathing just as labored as your own because of all the built up frustrations you both shared. “Fuck, I've missed those eyes.”

Your knees pressed into either side of the bathtub walls to allow him all the space he would need between your thighs. Skilled fingers traced slowly along the smooth folds that were almost begging for him to give you more. Your breath hitched in your throat and the need you felt for him showed dark within your eyes that he was still locked in on. Dipping in just a bit, his fingertips met with your own natural wetness - which he could easily feel despite being surrounded by water.

“Maybe your mind doesn't yet remember, but your body does.” Noah smirked, then plunged the entire length of his middle finger into your cunt, just to prove how wet you already were for him.

Your body tensed and your hips shot forward, rocking up against his hand with a desperate need. He wasted no time with finding that very specific spot inside of you, immediately placing a firm pressure against it to accompany his stroking motion. Your eyes fluttered closed and your lips parted once your jaw fell slack in response to how one mere finger could make you feel.

“Noah…” you whimpered as your slick walls tightened around him, drawing him in deeper.

“That's it…you can do it.” He again pulled your hair to bare your neck to him, his teeth sinking into your sensitive flesh before soothing the area with a kiss. A second finger soon joined the first inside of you, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you were a goner.

There was just something about being fingered in a bathtub stained with your own blood that really did it for you.

Your breathing began to increase, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace that seemed to match the same one Noah kept inside of you. He was still stroking that special spot with a maddening pressure, the ball of his hand rubbing against your sensitive clit, and the mixture of the two sensations had you teetering right on the edge.

“Just give me one and then I'll allow you what I know you truly want.” His words were whispered at your ear as he pushed his long fingers deeper into your cunt, working you over in ways that only he knew how to.

You knew what he meant, though, and oh, how badly did you want what he had in store for you next. You could only imagine how hard he was right then, his cock straining against the black pants he wore, begging for some sort of relief. Noah was patient, though. Much more patient than you were. After all, he spent over two hundred years waiting for you to appear again. He could wait another few minutes.

Noah again slipped his left hand down to your chest where he began to pinch and pull at your nipples, the added stimulation being exactly what you needed. With his fingers making that damned 'come hither’ motion inside of you, your thighs suddenly clamped down around his hand from the intensity of the orgasm that rushed through your body.

“Oh…Noah! Right there, yes!” You cried out as your pussy fluttered wildly around his fingers, that of which he had yet to cease the motions of. No, he was going to draw it out for as long as he could, really let you ride the high of your first time together again.

His head turned to press his lips to the nape of your neck, the breaths he let out almost as heavy as your own. “You're so beautiful when you cum for me,” he exclaimed. “I could watch it again and again, which I plan to do.”

The come down from your orgasm had left your head spinning and foggy. You barely even noticed when you were no longer encased in the water of the bathtub, your body now being tossed upon the most comfortable bed you had ever felt. Opening your eyes, you gazed up at Noah through your post-orgasm haze, admiring him with no shame as he began to unfasten his belt.

“It's all starting to come back to you, isn't it?”

The clanking metal sound of his belt sent chills through you, and you had the faintest memory of him using that belt of his for other things that made you scream in pleasure. Noah smirked, well aware of what you were thinking of, but he slowly shook his head. “Next time,” he promised.

He then leaned forward and grabbed you beneath your knees, forcing your body a little closer before managing to turn you over onto your stomach in a swift motion. You were still very much drunk on all that he was, all that this was, so you allowed him to maneuver you however he pleased.

Strong hands slowly ran up the sides of your thighs and then gripped tight to your hips. He pulled them up and back, your ass now angled upwards as your upper body remained down on the bed. You smiled, your fingers grasping onto the soft sheets that he had laid you upon.

“Fuck…” you heard him hiss, the sight of you on display for him causing his cock to twitch. His hands were then on you again, this time massaging into the flesh of your ass cheeks, fingertips occasionally grazing against the wetness between your thighs. You knew he was doing it on purpose just to tease you.

You huffed in frustration, your body rocking back just a bit as a silent demand for him to give you what you wanted. He chuckled lowly to himself, his hands retreating from your overeager body.

There was a quick moment where you tried to lift your head to see back at him, but he immediately tutted in disapproval. “Stay down,” he demanded in a tone that was both soft and firm.

You whined in protest as you dropped your head back down to the bed. Each passing second had you growing more and more impatient, like you were going to literally explode if Noah didn't give into your desires. You wanted him inside of you. You needed to feel the burning stretch as he claimed your body.

The bed then dipped with his added weight and you finally felt the warmth of his cock gliding between your folds. You heard him take a sharp breath as one hand held your hip, the other guiding himself around all of your sensitive areas. A shudder moved through you when the head grazed along your clit, the sensation immediately causing your eyes to close and your fingers to tighten on the sheets in preparation.

“You feel like Heaven,” he murmured, the tip of his cock now pressing against your entrance. “So much better than I could ever remember.”

Finally, he was easing himself inside of you, pushing through your tight walls until his hips pressed flush against your ass. His fingers flexed along your hips and you knew he was trying to control himself - a task that was much easier said than done. The feeling of being so full already had your toes curling and your breath exiting in pants. It was an addictive pleasure, the way your body reacted to him. How your cunt stretched to its limits around his thick cock, a slight pain mixing with your ecstasy, though that only made it so much better.

Noah’s hips pulled back until only the tip remained nestled inside, just to force every inch back within your depths with a quick thrust forward. He groaned your name, his noises mixing with your own coming from beneath him. He repeated this a couple of times as if he was trying to commit every inch of your cunt to his memory, and the way it felt to have you wrapped so tight around him again.

Tattooed fingers pushed and pulled your body along his length, his pace quickening. He would thrust forward a bit harder each time he made it as deep as possible, just to give you that extra little punctuation that he knew had you seeing stars.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” Your moans echoed through the room, joining the likes of your bodies colliding and his satisfied groans. “Oh my god, Noah. Don't stop…I'm getting so close.”

There was a sudden shift in his thrusts, each one becoming a bit more rough than the last. His hand traveled down the expanse of your back until he could find your hair within his grasp. Noah forced your head back and then your upper body as well, the rhythmic motions of his hips pausing with him deep inside of you. You smirked despite his now serious demeanor, because you could feel his cock twitch and throb inside of you. If only you could touch your clit, you would've came just from that alone. Something told you that Noah wouldn't allow it, though. Not unless he said for you to.

“Believe me, God isn't here.” He sternly explained through his heavy breaths before he was pushing your body back down to the bed. His fingers locked around your wrists and trapped them against the mattress, leaving you helpless to his maddening desires. “He has no part in all the sinful things I want to do to you.”

The pressure of his body weighing down on your own, mixed with the increasingly rough motion of his hips, had your moans erupting one after the other in quick succession. You didn't know how much longer you could keep your orgasm at bay, that task always proving to be difficult when Noah fell victim to his dominant side. It was clear that you had zero qualms with this based off your body’s reaction.

“Please…” you whimpered, the beg reminiscent of your last moments as a living being. It was so funny to you how things aligned like that.

Noah lowered himself more until his chest was touching your back, his hips slowing as well. Each thrust remained hard, though he took his time stroking your inner most walls. He wanted you to be able to feel every pulse of his cock, just so you knew the things only you did to him.

“What was that?” He kissed along the side of your face until his lips were at your ear, this being where he murmured the taunt. “Was there something that you wanted? Go on, tell me.”

You nodded, your lips folding in as you attempted an act of composure - one you both saw through. There was no such thing when it came to Noah

“I need to cum, Noah, please!” You impatiently exclaimed while trying to press back into him with every thrust forward he made. The strength behind his hips nearly prevented you from doing so, but you both also knew that deep down he couldn't deny you a single thing you wanted.

Noah smirked, his broad shoulders lifting away until he was sitting up on his knees behind you again. He was squeezing your hips so tight that you assumed bruises would be there tomorrow - can the undead bruise? That was one thing you didn't remember, but the answer would surely come soon enough.

A lithe inked hand snaked around until his fingertips were on your swollen clit. Your body jolted from the sudden electrifying sensation that caused you to tense. No sounds came from you now, since the intensity had your breath catching and halting in your chest. Those skilled fingers of his rubbed your clit in perfect time with his thrusts, driving you right to the edge. Occasionally he would pinch at the overly sensitive nerves, only just hard enough to make your thighs tremble and eyes roll back.

“Then cum.”

Those two words were uttered as a demand; he allowed you exactly what you wanted while making sure you remembered who was in control. How could you ever forget?

Waves of pleasure began to crash within every inch of your tense body. Your cunt collapsed around his cock and soon you were erupting, each nerve in your being firing off all at once. It was the most amazing thing you had ever felt, being able to cum around him as he also gave into his own climax.

Noah's hips jerked out of rhythm before stilling inside of you, thick ropes of his cum coating the aching walls of your pussy which he had just thoroughly claimed. Not that there was ever any question of its ownership. All of the moans and other sounds of strained delight that left him was your favorite song - nothing but music to your ears that you were eager to press 'play’ on again and again.

As he came down from his high, the dominant side slowly began to drift away, though only for the time being. It could easily be back with a snap of your fingers. His body enclosed around yours again since he knew you enjoyed the weight of him, greedy lips pressing light kisses along your shoulders and the back of your neck.

“Say it.”

You smiled through the heavy breaths that remained, which were accompanied by slight twitches in your hips from the after effects of your Earth shattering orgasm.

“Say what?” The tone you used gave away that you knew exactly what he wanted from you.

“Don't make me beg.”

“Hmm…” you softly hummed in feign thought, briefly getting lost in the way his fingertips grazed your sides. “Did I say it last time?”

The answer was something you were already aware of: you did. You just couldn't pass up the chance to tease and mock him.

“You say it every time.”

Shifting beneath him, your upper body turned enough so that you were able to look up into his dark eyes. There were still a lot of things that you couldn't yet recall, but old memories were making themselves known with each second that passed. Soon, you would know everything, just as he did.

“I love you,” you murmured in a near whisper. That same gleam you had witnessed in his eyes several times that day returned, making you begin to believe that he hadn't possessed it for the entire duration you were separated from him this time.

“Maybe the ninth death will be the charm.”

× × ×

#bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian #bad omens band #bad omens fan fiction #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fan fiction #noah sebastian fic #smut #bad omens smut #noah sebastian smut #smut with plot #god of death complex #one shot #noah sebastian one shot #bad omens one shot #noah sebastian x reader

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hopesangelsprite · 2 days

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Too Sweet 🍭(Illumi x Reader)

Summary: Illumi never really liked sweet things... until he met you, of course.

Pairing: Illumi x Chubby!reader

Warnings: manipulation (duh-), violence, mentions of blood and murder, obsession, etc. (let me know if I missed any)

Note: Best read while listening to "Too Sweet" by Hozier ;).

It can't be said I'm an early bird It's ten o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

Illumi had become accustomed to certain kinds of diets throughout his years. He knew how to eat like royalty as well as how not to eat at all for days on end. That was simply how he was raised. This diet of his not only applied to food but to people as well. He'd acquired a taste for the strong, bitter types; the ones almost as barbarous as he was. If there was one thing he almost never had a taste for, it would be sweets.

You keep telling me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then

He'd noticed how out of place you were instantly. The club he frequented was a haven for assassins, thieves, crime bosses, and other unsavory types of the lowest lows. Most people here didn't want to be seen and made an effort not to be, clothes dark and eyes darker. Yet there you stood behind the bar, hues of soft blue and yellow brightening your work attire, eyes brighter and purer than stars. His eyes followed you as you made your rounds across the club, eyes focused on your plush thighs and wide hips. It made him sick how soft and weak you looked. Most of him wanted to brush of your existence, to him you were an anomaly and nothing more. The other more sinister parts of him wanted to break you, to watch that innocence in your eyes fade into nothingness.

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great But while in this world

I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

Against his ingrained desires, he let you be. There was no use in him breaking you, in his eyes it wouldn't be long before someone else would anyway. So, Illumi carried on with life and ignored the small craving he was developing for you. It only grew deeper with each visit he made to the club. It wasn't often he was there either, his missions carried him all over the world for extended periods of time, but you never failed to be working each time he took his seat in the far corner of the building.

Illumi tried to drown out the yearning with whatever he could: bloodshed, money, women, etc. Still, he found himself watching night after night, taking note of the things that made you smile and the things you didn't smile as much at. Your interests became delicacies he dined on whenever he could. It wasn't long before he found himself wondering if your palate could handle the depth of his own flavor.

I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go I work late where I'm free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate The rest of you like you're the TSA I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong

The first time he approached you, he was unassuming. he took a seat at the bar far enough to watch but not close enough to get caught. He nursed the whiskey he'd order earlier in the night, not particularly interested in the taste of it anymore. It seemed you were a little more confident tonight, meeting the eyes of other patrons unlike your shifts prior. You offered polite smiles and gentle chuckles as you carried on conversing with a man Illumi knew to be violent murderer no doubt priming you for the kill.

A whisper in the back of his subconscious told him to follow the brown-haired male out tonight, ensure he'd never get the chance to savor in your sweetness. He washed away the thought with the last of the amber liquid in his cup deciding he'd use him to his advantage instead.

Illumi wrapped his knuckles against the dark oak of the bar drawing your ears and eyes toward him. Another warm smile replaced the questioning look you'd donned upon the interruption after noticing his empty glass. You pulled his favorite brand of whiskey from the shelves before making your way over to refill it. He watched your movements, keenly taking note of your body language. Once the glass was filled, he nodded in appreciation. You nodded back, preparing to resume your previous conversation, only to pause upon noticing the ring on his finger.

"That's a pretty piece you've got there, sir.", you chirped over the loud music, "Must've cost you a fortune!". So, you had a thing for jewelry, huh? Illumi took a mental note before shaking his head. "It cost me nothing if you don't count my life as currency.", he mused while looking over his family's crest at the center of a jeweled band, "It's an heirloom, a part of my birthright.". You hummed in understanding while taking his hand in yours to get a closer look. A shiver ran down Illumi's spine at the softness of your skin against his. For a second, he wanted nothing more than to kill everyone in the building and have you all to himself.

You gently placed his hand down before displaying another one of your million-dollar smiles. "Well, I guess that makes you the priceless one then.", you spoke smoothly before leaving him for the murderer. From that moment forward, the seed had been planted and obsession had taken root within Illumi's dark heart.

You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait Until that day

I'd rather take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

Two months passed before he decided it was time to carry out the rest of his plan. He'd spent the past few months at the very end of the bar making small talk with you and keeping you company when the nights got slow. He learned many new things from talking to you; how you were only a few years younger than him, your favorite foods and alcohols, the apartment complex you lived in. You seemed to be the most open with him when there was no one else around. He made you feel safe.

He'd also built rapport with you, taking out time to keep other criminals off your back and walking you out of the bar every night. Tonight, however, would be different. Instead of waiting with you for your taxi arrival, he ducked back into the bar with the excuse that he'd forgotten something of his. He crept his way to the back of the club eventually finding the stairwell to the roof. Illumi perched himself on the balcony and watched a shadow approach you from a rancid looking alley. He'd known the serial killer you been so kind to at the beginning of your job here would be waiting for you to be left alone just like any other night.

He listened to closely as the brunette rounded the corner and struck up a conversation. Not to his surprise, you kept it going smoothly in spite of the growing discomfort altering your tone. A beat and a half passed before your muffled screams fell upon Illumi's ears. He looked on patiently as the dark-haired man ambushed you and drug you into the alley he'd emerged from.

He followed closely behind from the rooftops, listening to the sounds of your struggling and crying. He fought hard to keep himself from intervening too soon and waited until the two of you stopped progressing into the maze of dark, damp passages. You'd been dragged into a dead end and unceremoniously shoved onto a pile of rotting trash. Illumi made note to have a bath drawn for you as your attacker drew closer with a long blade in hand. He waited for it to be raised above you before dropping down far away enough not to be noticed. Before any more harm could befall you, Illumi swiftly took control of the situation he'd manufactured and killed your would-be murderer.

I take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

Illumi disposed of the bloodied blade before turning to face you. He braced himself just quick enough to catch your sobbing figure falling into his arms unbothered by the blood covering them. He sank to the ground with you in tow and held you close while whispering the promise that you were safe into your shaking frame. He tucked your head into the crook of his neck before gently rising to carry you to the safety he promised. As he cast a final glance toward the body of your dead stalker, he smiled.

All of you belonged to him, now.

He could indulge in your sweetness forever.

#illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #hxh illumi #hunter x hunter #illumi headcanons #hxh headcanons #hozier #song lyrics #songfic #too sweet #chubby reader

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cookiesupplier · 2 days

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Run A Dagger Through My Chest

pairing: Noah Sebastian x ofc (Ellie)

warnings/tropes: racism/speciesism, post cheating anxiety, blood magic, weapons, soul bonding,

summary: A night out at the bar, Ellie overhears something from one of Noah's shadows that she wishes she didn't, and now she isn't the only one that has to deal with how it makes her feel.

author’s note: This is the very first proper outtake of the Hell-Verse that I've written. As per where it exists in the timeline, it takes place prior to Chapter 17 of A Friend Down In Hell.

For those that wish to catch up on what's going on in this verse, here is the Combined Hell-Verse Masterlist.

tags: @spicywhenspeaking @bngurngheart @cncohshit @valiantroeagleangel

@blackveilomens @dominuslunae @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747

@lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @jilliemiw86 @emmmm127

@badomensls @sorrowsofsilence @collapsedglasshouses @vinyardmauro

@4rtificialfolio @agravemisstake @sunsshinesunny @tearfallpixie @dsireland86

@notingridslurkaccount @laurpartyprogram

Okay so I've tagged everyone that has so far been on the ride for the Hell-Verse.. hopefully they get through.. fighting with my tags is exhausting, I know they are weird.. but they are working like this.. so.. Ima go with it!

Ellie knew what Ishtar was doing. She might feel bad that Folio was going out of his mind a little, considering he was not getting as much time with Ishtar as he would like. However, after years of the demoness trying to get him to meet with her outside of the bar so they could get closer, dropping hints and him not picking them up? She deserved to have a little fun, didn’t she? He needed to work to snag her. So yes, him wooing her, even if it was over text messages, with their flirty conversations, and stolen moments before and after work.. Sure they were barely there, Ellie knew that Ishtar was certainly making him work to get his time with her.

As it was, he certainly didn’t look remotely disappointed right then as he leaned across the bar, signature bright smile across his face as he relished the chance to talk with her. Ellie was thankful that the shot challenges weren’t a thing any more, at least, not to the extent that they used to be. As they say, boys will be boys, and Ellie had noticed, they would still get up and do stupid shit. Now, however, at least Folio wasn’t determined to push for the night of constantly pouring liquor down their throats until they were smashed so she could get closer to Ishtar.

Tonight, was one of those contest nights, only instead of shots they were playing darts, and that of course, put Noah at the forefront of the game.

“Can someone explain to me, who had the bright idea to think it was smart to try to compete against Noah using sharp objects again?”

Ellie giggled at Jolly’s complaining before he lifted his glass and drained the last of his current beer. Folio being at the bar as he talked to Ishtar, was supposed to be getting them another round of drinks. They’d sent him up there a little while ago, knowing he’d take some time to come back with their drinks once he got distracted talking to Ishtar. If there was one thing that was predictable on a night like tonight, was that folio would get preoccupied with Ishtar and spending time with her. The guys could tease him about it all they wanted, but, Ellie noticed that they also enabled him at the same time. Whether it was planning nights out specifically to the bar so he could spend time with her. Other times they planned boys nights to help distract him when they knew Ishtar was busy working, and he wasn’t going to be able to see her, they found ways.

Yes, between Jolly, Noah and Nicholas, they all enabled Folio, and then teased him mercilessly while doing so at the exact same time.

“At least he doesn’t have you trying to throw axes, do you have any idea how difficult that is? In saying that, pretty sure I almost took his head off last time he wanted to teach me something.”

Ellie grinned wickedly only to earn an, are you kidding me glance from Noah, before focusing back on the dart board.

“Never happen, BabyGirl. I knew exactly what I was doing. You didn’t even get close.”

Shrugging slightly, he said that, but she swore she’d seen a little bit of blood that time, and oh, it had been awfully close as well. Admittedly, she had been way off target to almost get him at all like that, which meant she had done horribly in that particular instance, but her argument still stood! The fact that Noah kept insisting on teaching her these crazy things was hilarious to her, but she did enjoy the time they spent together. Even if there were some days she just spent watching him train, one of her books in hand, glancing up as he worked on his exercises, whether with the other demons, or on his own. Ellie never watched him actually work with the souls he punished, never, just his physical training. His work with punishment another situation entirely, and one she was better off never touching at all. She had heard snippets from Folio about some of the horrible things that another lesser demon did, one that Noah had to keep in check, and she didn’t even want to think about it. In saying that, from the people she knew were in there, she knew they deserved it.

“I’m going to go and check on Folio, make sure he hasn’t forgotten our drinks.”

“You mean instead of making eyes at Ishtar.”

Shaking her head as the guys laughed in response, yes, she remarked on Folio forgetting their drinks, but the jibe that came at Folio’s expense as to the odds of whether he had legitimately forgotten their drinks was meaningless. She knew they didn’t really mean it anyway. They supported Folio as much as she did, otherwise they wouldn’t have endured his puppy dog starry eyed routine for the demoness as long as they had before he finally got this far with her. Finally being the word there!

Once she had stopped by the bar to nudge Folio, say hello to Ishtar and put their drink orders in, smiling when Ishtar seemed to have not received their order at all before now. Ellie got an innocent get apologetic smile from Folio. She nudged him with her elbow to let him know she’d forgiven him. As long as he got the drinks to the table, that was, she needed to go to the ladies room. It was on her way back that she heard them chatting away and gossiping among themselves, Noah's shadows, they were always hanging around the bar when they were there. At least, lately, they seemed to have learned to keep their distance. Mostly since the incident that have Ellie wanting to kill one of them for actually trying to kiss Noah in front of her, it had not been a night she wanted to remember. Apparently a few had heard about it, and less wanted to test her, at least, for now, she wondered how long that would last though. They had started showing up again lately. Probably wouldn’t be long before they started approaching him again.

She didn’t really want to know what they were saying, but the problem was, the way when you heard your own name, it was like your brain perks up sometimes. You tune in without being able to help yourself.

“Oh there she is!” “Ellie, she’s so pathetic.” “I don’t know what he sees in her. She’s so, so, human! It's disgusting” “Absolutely, she’s nothing. She’s worthless.” “I bet you all she's in it just to bond with him, what else would a human want from a demon.”

Ellie hated it, but she’d come to terms with how Hell wasn’t as different as she’d like in terms of human vs demons relations. Of course, in the land of the living, it wasn’t demons, it was humans vs humans, it was about the different races, but it was no different, and dealing with it here was just, it was sad. When she had first arrived, she had thought there were a lot more humans in Hell than there really were. However, the reality was that because demons could shape-shift, was that many of them chose to take human form, and yet, they still spoke of her like that. It would never make sense to her, never.

Hearing them talk about her so spitefully for no other reason than she was with Noah, and they wanted to be, was like a knife digging in. They didn’t even know her, and in truth, they didn't actually know anything about Noah either. All they knew about him was his position in Hell, which was why he did his best to avoid them. Yes, he admitted to his years of adoring fans so to speak, but he got over that before he’d even met Ellie.

She tried not to think about what they were saying as she made her way back to the table with the others, it was all too much right now. Ellie didn’t want to think about the way that word just seemed to stick in her brain at that moment. Bonding. Bonding. Bonding. Just the feel of it screamed another word, and it felt like a dagger twisting in her gut just thinking about that word… marriage. Ellie had long sworn off any thought of getting married years ago, along with that bastard Jeremy. After everything that had happened in seeing him again, that dark feeling in the pit of her stomach, she didn’t really want to deal with all of that again. Not marriage, not bonding, not any of it. No, no, thank you.

Noah didn’t know what to do, Ellie had started being distant for a little over a week now, and he was starting to get worried. It wasn’t like last time when she was avoiding him altogether, that at least was in his favour. But some nights when they were together, even when they were alone, she barely seemed to want to have anything to do with him. Trying to talk to her would get him one word answers, and yes, she still seemed willing, and open, and would smile and kiss him in the morning.. But..

She was pulling away..

He was terrified that something was going terribly wrong all over again and he, just, couldn’t do this again. The thought of losing Ellie, the thought of that loss when she had come to mean so much to him, he didn’t know if he could deal with that. His parents hadn’t been the greatest, even when they were here. Noah didn’t talk about them, not really, his parents were gone, into the abyss. No one talked about it, but there were ways for demons to die, permanently. Rare as they were, and do not ask Noah how to do it, any way that he knew, he wouldn’t speak of to a soul. Any self-respecting demon that knew, wouldn’t. He’d lost his parents not just years ago, but life times ago, the Ruffilo family taking him in, making sure he continued to come back to them each lifetime since that first time.

Now he was considering a different loss, and it was one he didn’t want to face. He would fight for Ellie, time and time again, and tonight he was determined to talk to her. It was going to be different tonight, because instead of trying to get her to talk to him, he was just planning on talking to her. Noah needed Ellie to understand, that no matter what was on her mind, what was upsetting her, not matter what it took, he would always be there, he would always listen. He would wait. He would be there when she was ready to finally talk to him, he was desperate for her to know that.

That was the plan.

He picked up their favourite pizza on the way home after a very long, frustrating day at work. Frustrating because, unlike some, no matter how many people he tormented, no matter how many souls he tortured, it was never going to ease the troubles on his mind. Noah would never understand how some would claim causing other people pain would make him feel better. Yes, yes, when he suffered, he rounded up those that made those he loved to suffer, and he would happily bring down his wrath, but did that truly ever take away his pain? No. Not even close. So yes, today was frustrating, because it was not nearly as satisfying as he would like it to be.

Okay, so he called it home, it was her apartment. Noah hadn’t stayed in his own apartment in months. At most, he went back there to get new clothes and things he needed from time to time if he absolutely had to. They weren’t living together, technically, but he had been staying with Ellie so often that him not being at hers just felt wrong. Even with her pulling away, had she told him to leave even once, no. Was there a part of him waiting for it, yes. Did it make him sick to the gut over it, absolutely. The look in her eyes, something told him everything was going wrong, and he couldn’t stand it, so tonight, he was going to lay it out for her. Him just staying there, wasn’t just because they were together, it was because she was his everything, and no matter what she had to say, he wasn’t about to walk away. Ever. Not after everything they’d been through.

Setting the pizza on the counter, he knew she’d spent the afternoon with Ishtar, who would be off to work by now.

“Ellie, you home, I brought dinner, pizza.”

“Did you for-”

“I’d never forget your garlic bread, I wasn’t born yesterday, BabyGirl.”

Seeing her coming out of her room then, at least he got a small smile from her, that was the majority of how their interactions had been going lately. There was little teasing between them, maybe he’d get a smile, and then she’d shut down. Noah would try to keep it going through the night, but to no avail. When they went out with their friends, she’d interact with the others openly, just not with him, and he was almost certain that the only person that hadn’t noticed was Folio. He couldn’t blame him, if he had someone to distract him, he might not have noticed either, Ellie was his perfect distraction.

As they sat to have dinner, though, Noah was going to take advantage of her quiet tonight.

“Ellie, I need to talk to you about something tonight.”

He could feel the way she tensed up, and whatever the reason was, Noah wasn’t going to let her doubts about whatever it was that was eating at her until there was nothing left, he wasn’t. She might not want to talk to him tonight, but he was hopeful she would talk to him, soon.

“You don’t have to say anything BabyGirl, just listen. I’m not going anywhere, I don’t expect anything, from you. I know most of your life you’ve spent with people in your life telling you that you should life your life a certain way, that you should do things in a certain order, but in truth none of that will ever matter to me.”

Tilting his head to try and catch her eye, to make sure that she was looking at him, and when she glanced away, he reached up and lifted her chin to make sure her eyes met his. Make sure she was paying attention to what he was saying. If she was looking him in his eye, she would pay more attention, it was a gentle touch, but it was effective, and he knew it.

“Furthermore, I don’t care if we never do anything but sit on that couch and watch movies. The single most important element of my life, is you. We can do anything you like, or nothing but sit around cuddled up on the couch.”

Ellie had been struggling, ever since she had heard about those girls talking about how she could only ever want Noah to bond with him. All she could think about was that bonding had to be the demon version of marriage. No how irrational it seemed considering it was not Noah that had brought it up, that Noah was not pushing the subject at her. It all just felt like a noose wrapped around her neck for the last week and a half.

Her eyes were wide, glazed as she looked at Noah right now,

“God, I love you, Noah.”

Seeing the way he sighed so heavily, oh, she knew the relief he was feeling, she was feeling it too. Smiling slowly,

“You knew just what to say, didn’t know?”

A soft shaky breath escaped her, she’d been so scared, never able to consider how to talk to him about it, and she still wasn’t sure how to. It all came down to at least starting with one question, she supposed. Then, when Noah explained it to her, then they could talk about what they were going to do, if they would do anything at all, or enjoy everything they already had, just as it was. As far as Ellie was concerned, it was pretty wonderful already, no matter what Noah’s shadows or anyone else might think about them!

“So um, I heard some of your shadows talking about something called bonding, from the way they made it sound they made it sound significant…” And that she would never be worthy of him for it.

“Could you, tell me about it?”

Two weeks, it had been two weeks since Noah had happily explained everything about bonding with Ellie, and expressed how it was absolutely not marriage. Humans tended to throw marriage around like it was the be all and end all. It was said to be a binding of souls in the eyes of God, said, that was done on human faith. While he respected faith, he did, but this was something that was distinct, and magically connecting their souls beyond death, connecting his soul to hers. When the day came, the fateful day came he passed, and demons did not live forever even if they lived far longer than humans mortal years. When he was reborn, he would still be connected to her, and as he aged, he would come to remember her, and love her all over again.

They’d talked more than once about bonding, Ellie wanted to understand it more each time. Coming up with more questions, about how it would affect him, her, about why demons could do it and not humans.

Today, though, there were no questions, today they were training. Noah was attempting to teach Ellie how to better aim and throw daggers at a target, and Ellie couldn’t help but smirk to herself at the thought. It was almost ironic thinking about it, the night she first heard of bonding, they had been teasing about him teaching her axe throwing and how horrible she had been at it. Dagger throwing, she seemed to be a little better at it so far, not that she had been all that better at fully getting the knives to stick in the targets as deep as Noah would like. Standing behind Ellie, holding her hands to adjust how she was holding the blade, to adapt the balance of her technique as she threw the weapon.

When she managed to finally get one of the dagger to stick into the target deep enough, the blade didn’t just fall from the board, that Noah actually had to approach and pull it out. After a moment, Ellie smiled brightly.

“Well, look at that, we will make a warrior woman out of you yet, BabyGirl!”

She rolled her eyes at him with a smirk before picking up another of the daggers, while demons could, potentially summon weapons directly to them with magic, in this training arena, the magic to do so, was banished. Noah explained it in a sense that it was a training technique to make sure they didn’t get lazy. There was also the added benefit to make sure that those that were not as quick to learn, didn’t accidentally get in the way of other, more experienced demons, and get sliced up in the wrong way. There were also those that he had unfortunately seen, that were purposely dismembered. The way he had said that, had Ellie thinking back to some of Folio’s remarks about the demon that had tortured him for part of his tenure in the punishment realms of Hell. She was more than glad to have avoided that experience entirely, not just because she was a semi-decent person. No, she would not claim she was good, like anyone, there were probably questionable things she’d done in her life, but obviously, not enough for punishment.

“I think I’m ready to be a different kind of woman right now.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“Bonded.”

Noah almost dropped the dagger he was flipping around in his hand. As far as Ellie was concerned, it was a miracle he didn’t just slice off any of his fingers off with the look of the way the weapon just whirled around. Not to mention how he was looking at her. Startled almost, awed was another way she might put his expression, and she smiled,

“Oh, BabyGirl, I can’t wait to get you home, and-”

“No, here, right here.”

That stopped him short, Noah glancing around, they’d talked about the ritual enough that she knew it step by step now, right down to memorising all the markings she’d need to make. Yes, she knew already that plenty of others chose to perform the bonding rite in private, but Ellie didn’t want to wait another second. The moment the spell took, he could whisk her away, teleport them home, and then they could spend the rest of the night together.

As late as it was, there wasn’t really else hanging around training as well, it tended to be why Noah would bring Ellie during this time to train her. It presented the least probability that another demon might accidentally miss their mark and risk harming her. Yes she would survive, but why would she want to get hurt in the first place?

“Alright, let me get what we need.”

Really what he needed was, something to mark the circle, and some he quickly sound some chalk for the training ring to do it.. After he marked the circle surrounding them, Noah stripped his shirt from his body. While Ellie was already wearing active wear, her tank top had wide straps at her shoulders and he needed to mark runes to her collar bones too, not wanting to leave to go home to do this, a slice of a dagger, and the back of the straps were cut and the tank top became a halter top, exposing her collarbones. Perfect.

Standing in the circle, each cutting their palms so they could mix their blood, marking the runes to their skin. Ellie had been thinking about thie for weeks. So fervent in her thoughts of how she felt about bonding, her hesitation had nothing to do with Noah, and everything to do with herself, she had the runes cemented into her memory. Dipping her fingertips into their mixed blood didn’t bother her in the least, between having to, at times deal with assaults in the office from souls coming through to punishment, to training with Noah, she was getting more used to a little bit of blood. Now, a lot of blood, that would be a different situation entirely.

Once they were both done, and Noah was sure they were right, Noah took Ellie’s hands and started with the demonic words of the ritual. It was a disappointment that she knew she’d never be able to speak or understand the language, but Ellie squeezed his hands as his words continued.. The blood runes tingling on her skin. She gasped as he continued. When he finally she finished, she watched on in awe as the ritual completed, the bloodied runes they’d both drawn onto their skin melting together and slither into one long line swirling band of blood over their skin. Eventually she noticed that the band of blood travelled all the way around her body, along one arm to Noah’s body, around his shoulders and arms and back to her body, again around her shoulders and arms. Wrapping them both up up completely, binding them completely in the ritual spell before the red string of blood sank into their skin and bonding their souls.

“And it’s done.”

Ellie shivered, lifting her hands to Noah’s face and pulling him down to her so she could kiss him, the softest whimper escaping her, they were bonded.. As she pulled back, she spied the small black tattoo on her index finger, it looked just like one of Noah’s. He’d told her this would happen, and she had wondered which of his tattoos she would receive, this one was tiny, and subtle, but she’d have it no other way. This was their bond mark, this was the mark from his soul.

“You are all mine.”

She giggled as she looked up to him,

“BabyGirl, I was always yours.”

Dividers by @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

#bad omens #noah sebastian #fanfiction #bad omens cult #bad omens band #bad omens fic #noah sebastian x ofc #hell au #demon noah #fic: hell aint so bad #hell verse #fic: dagger through my chest

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