#but the thing is I think it look fucking great

[railingsofsorrow]

don't walk out

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.”  pairing: s.reid x gn!reader  w.c: 1K warnings/content: implied abandoned issues; argument; silent treatment (brief); language; angst.  A/N: guess I'm on a roll today. I just love some angst. 

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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“is that supposed to make me feel better?”  

lights had barely been turned on when you spat out a response, breaking the tense silence. your apartment was tidy, nothing out of order, even the pillows where settled two on each edge of the couch like you always did before leaving for work.  

it was the expected. three days away on a case didn't exactly mean your house would turn upside down, would it? unanimated things didn't move on their own. but one thing that was turning upside down was your mood. not only did the journey home came with lots of turbulence, but Spencer had to make an unpleasant comment that made your blood boil. was it wrong that you just wanted to not look at him right now? you were even considering not sleeping beside him tonight. 

“for fucks sake.” you mumbled under your breath when he had stayed silent. he's ignoring you now. great. throwing your work bag on the couch, you didn't even take your shoes off as you moved back toward the door. you can't handle his passive aggressive act and you certainly won't handle his silence treatment.  

“where are you going?” he called out, shuffling out of the bedroom upon hearing the sound of keys dangling. no. no, you're not leaving, are you? “what—” 

“i'm gonna take a walk, spencer.” 

it didn't take a second for him to rush over and stop your exit by blocking the door. “what are the car keys for then?” desperation clouded his tone and you felt guilt building up in your chest, but it wasn't bigger than your frustration.  

“I'm gonna drive.” 

“at this time of the night? you hate driving at night.” 

“are you my father?” he almost flinched at your sharp tone. okay, he deserved that hostility. he's been nothing but rude to you the entire jet ride back home. it's not that you did anything — even if you had done something, it does not justify the way he was treating you —, the case had been hard. it involved kids. the team wasn't fast enough. he wasn't fast enough. you almost got hurt. it was a lot to absorb in a short amount of time.  

he never wanted this: you walking out while you were mad at each other. no. you had made a deal long ago. you both were laughing after your first stupid argument, something about forgetting to fold the laundry.  

“okay, but we can be like this, right?” you said, nudging him. “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.” 

his eyes soften and he almost turns to mush. he understood then that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. and yes. you would be mad and you would upset each other but leaving was off the table. he could do that. there was nothing he'd want more. 

but now he'd cross a line. didn't he? how dare he do that? how dare he cause you do want to walk out? 

“i'm sorry.” spencer is still at the doorway when you ask him to move. he won't move. he can't. “i really am. I shouldn't have said that. it was out of line.” 

“really?” you snap. he hears the edge in your voice and the crack. it breaks him. he just wants to hold you, he never meant—means to hurt you. “then why did you? why would you even think about something like that?”  

he holds back his breath of relief once you've put the keys back in the bowl. the lump in his throat diminishing slightly. 

“i was upset. angry— at the case. the whole situation, not you.“ he clarified. “sweetheart, i'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” you're searching his face for some indication of lie that you won't find. “i'm sorry.” 

“you're an idiot.” your anger is gone, there's just frustration now. maybe at yourself, because you can't really stay mad at him as he stares at you with those eyes.  

“i am,” he admits, no ounce of hesitation in his tone. he's fairly certain he is, in fact, an idiot. “i'm sorry.” he repeats and he will repeat over and over again until you forgive him. he will beg if he has to. “don't leave, please.” 

and that is not fair. it's not. he can't make you mad and say sorry and all will be forgiven. he can't look at you with those eyes and think things will be magically fixed. 

but then your armor cracks. suddenly, his behaviour makes sense. 

we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave. 

“i wasn't going to—” you're ashamed at this point. you were so blinded by anger that you'd do something you promised to never do. “you know I wouldn't leave, right?” then his desperation in reaching the door before you makes sense and you're taken back to the moment you promised not to walk out in a fight. that's exactly what you where about to do.  

“i'm sorry.” you say, staring at the keys in your hands. “i didn't think before acting.”  

spencer nods slowly, taking a step closer towarss your frame. “and I didn't think before speaking. I'm the one that should be sorry.” 

you caught a glimpse at his twitchy fingers and takes one of his hands into your own, letting the keys slip to the floor as you yank him to your arms. he only complies by squeezing you against him. and finally, both of you have what you've been craving since this case started: each other's comfort.  

and then, you repeat. “i wasn't going to leave, you know that, right?”  

“yeah.” he burries his face into your neck and his voice is muffled by your skin. “yeah, I know.” 

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; 

#spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter pt.5

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read the previous parts HERE

Warnings: cursing

WC: 4.0k

A/N: hi :) enjoy (if you’re reading this the same day it was posted and want to help make a decision on the future of this story go vote on the poll on my feed)

The players ended up with way more downtime than the staff during the week before you all left for Paris they were really only responsible for keeping their bodies ready to play and showing up to get on the plane. You and the rest of the staff had meetings, more paperwork, you all had to pack your equipment away, it took more hours of your time than you had expected.

This meant you had to turn down Jessie on three different occasions when she asked you to coffee.

The first time Jessie shook off the rejection. Not thinking much about it, you were obviously busy with work and didn’t have the time that day.

“I’m wrapping up here. Want to grab a coffee this afternoon?” She stuck her head into your office.

“I would Jessie but I’m not out of here until 5 tonight. Plus should we be grabbing coffee?” You give her a questioning look. You had agreed to friends now, friends grabbed coffee but it felt like a gateway to something more with her.

“Oh, okay, sorry I didn’t realize you had to work so late.”

She shook you off, walking back over to her locker to grab her stuff and leave for the day, having to stop alone for coffee.

She didn’t stop asking, one thing about that girl, she loved to stop by your office and she also loved to get coffee.

“Coffee? Do you have a lunch break at some point?” Jessie’s head once again swung around your office door early in the morning when players were released for a couple hours break before having to return in the evening for film.

You sigh throwing your hands up, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you “I’m supposed to get a lunch but I think I have more travel paperwork to do during that time, I don’t know Kelly from the administration called and-”

“Don’t worry about it.” You notice the tight lipped half smile she gives you. You so badly wanted to say fuck it to the paperwork and go get coffee with Jessie, you’d get coffee with that woman every second of every day if you could. But you had work. You were at work and she was your coworker.

Insistent on getting you to say yes, Jessie offers another plan. “What about tomorrow morning since it’s a later start? Before we come in?”

“Tomorrow I have to be here at normal times, it’s just you guys who get to come in late.” You give her a frown.

“Look if you don’t want to come to coffee with me, that’s okay, just say that though.” Her voice is quiet but she looks frustrated with you. Her eyebrows furrowed, upset lines on her forehead.

“No! Jessie, I do! I do want to get coffee with you, just, this isn’t a great week. I’ve still got a ton of work to get done before we leave. As the newbie on the staff I get all the simple but time consuming work no one else wants. Unfortunately the next few weeks will be just as crazy for both of us.”

“Okay.” She turns to leave “I’m sorry for bothering you.” Before you can really stop her to explain that she’s not a bother and honestly the short chats you get with her are the highlight of your day, she exits the door. And you're left alone in your office, a massive pile of paperwork to still get done.

With only two days left before you had to fly to Paris you were trying to get most of your work done today. You didn’t want to have to deal with work and the stress of packing tomorrow. You curse yourself for not packing sooner. You end up in the office until it’s dark outside checking your watch and seeing it was 7:30 at night. Your mom had left the office two hours ago, giving you a kiss on the head and telling you not to stay up too late.

You focus in, getting tunnel vision on the paperwork, racing through the stack of papers, until your phone goes off.

Jessie Fleming: what time do you have to be in tomorrow?

A text from Jessie has your phone vibrating in your lap. You pick it up and respond, wondering why she would need to know.

You: 5:30

You: Do you need treatment? Is your calf alright?

Jessie Fleming: So the facility will be open at 5:30? Calf is fine but I’m trying to get in some extra recovery and stretching, feeling a bit tight after today's work.

You: Yeah it should be, for all I know I might still be here when you show up.

Jessie Fleming: You’re still there?

You: I am

You: sent an image

You send Jessie a selfie of you, smiling in your desk chair, a significantly smaller stack of papers than she saw you with earlier in the day.

Jessie Fleming: sent an image

The image is her, in what you assumed was her Canadian apartment bed, a soft smile on her face, her head resting on a pillow with light gray cover on it. What also stands out to you is the way her sheet is pulled up, just under her collarbones. You can see her collarbones, she wasn’t wearing a shirt.

You: Why are you in bed this early?

You: Do you sleep shirtless?

You regret hitting send on the second message when you actually see that she’s typing.

Jessie Fleming: That’s professional to ask

Jessie Fleming: But yes

Jessie Fleming: Most of the time

Jessie Fleming: Obviously not when I have travel roommates or anything, but I’m in my own place for the next few days so I’m enjoying it before a lot of hotels with Janine.

Jessie Fleming: And I’m in bed because I’m watching a documentary and I’ve been told to get as much sleep as I can by the training staff at work.

Jessie Fleming: Especially this new young girl, she has been on my case about taking care of myself and whatever, but she’s cute so I gave her a pass.

The mention of Janine has your mind thinking back to the other day, Janine grabbing Jessie and whispering to her before she gave you a look that felt like she suddenly knew everything. You wanted to ask Jessie about it but now probably wasn’t the best time.

You: I sleep like that too, more comfortable

You: I’m sure that girl is just looking out for you.

Jessie Fleming: I know, right? I tried to tell that to so many of my teammates, none of them listen.

Jessie Fleming: stop texting me, go back to work so you can go home.

You: you’re the one texting me

Jessie Fleming: shhhhh

You: 🙄

You put your phone away, putting it on silent so there was no temptation to text Jessie, having no idea if she had responded. You finish your paperwork, finally standing up your back and knees both cracking as you stretch. You check you phone as you walk to the car, seeing it was 8:22. You’d have to go home, get dinner, shower, all to get up at 4:30 to be at work by 5:30.

A message from Jessie sits on your screen. You debate texting her back but you don’t want to wake her if she’s already gone to sleep.

Jessie Fleming: Have a good night, hope you’re not at work too late :)

When you sit back at your desk the next morning you feel deja vu, feeling like you never left. The only difference is there is no longer a pile of work in front of you, you thank yourself for staying to complete it all last night. You lean forward letting your head rest on your desk for a moment.

“Hi!” Jessie comes around the corner of your office, sounding way too chipper for 5:30 in the morning, but then again she was able to be in bed at 7:30. You look up to her to see her carrying two coffees. She approaches you and sticks her hand out offering you one of the drinks. You were so grateful, you had opted for 5 minutes of extra sleep in the morning instead of getting a coffee and you were starting to regret that decision.

“Should you really be showing up to my office with coffee? You do remember what happened last time you did that, right?” You question her, squinting at her across your desk and sending a glance to the wall where she had pinned you.

“Maybe that’s why I’m doing it, maybe I liked what happened last time.” She pauses, tilting her head, thinking back to the memory. “Except not when your Mom walked in, I didn’t like that, that was terrifying.” A quick grimace follows by a smile comes across her face.

“Jessie, we can’t.”

“I know, I know.” She sounds defeated. “I just figured since going out for coffee doesn’t really fit into your schedule right now, I’d just bring it to you. I promise I’m not trying to get anything out of you.” She sits down in the seat across from you.

“How late were you here last night?” Jessie’s phone buzzes on the table, she ignores it.

“Just before 9.”

“Oh wow, I was asleep by then.” You envy her early bedtime.

“Yeah so I am incredibly grateful for this, thank you.” You shake your coffee cup as her phone lights up with another notification. This time your eyes trail to it. You’re not trying to look at her messages but you just can’t help but glance at the lit up screen.

Jessie noticed your eyes' quick movement toward her phone, “Sorry that’s just Janine, I told her I was coming in to do some early recovery and she’s giving me a hard time about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s just teasing me.” She pauses, “about you.” She uses her coffee cup in her hand to point at you.

“Oh, did you tell her? She gave me a weird look the other day, after you came back and we hugged in the training room, you two walked out together and she sort of stared at me. So did you tell her? About the kiss I mean?” Finally getting an appropriate time to ask what was up with Janine’s look.

“It may have slipped out, one of the times I was talking about you. But she’s been teasing me about you since before that.” Jessie looks down to type back to Janine on her phone.

“Jessie!” Her head snapped back up when she heard you scolding her name. Knowing someone else knows about your kiss, someone you didn’t yet know well enough, makes you uneasy. “You can’t just be telling people that!”

“It’s Janine, she’s my best friend, she knows me too well, she knew something happened and asked. I didn't think it would be a big deal, she’s not going to tell anyone.” Jessie defends herself.

“I get that you think that Jessie, but if she slips up, next thing the whole team knows, then it gets out, you’ll get in trouble for sleeping with the student trainer, who’s 4 years younger than you.” You were spiraling, you’re not sure if you believe what you’re saying or if your mom had just scared you into it. You didn’t want your own career to be at risk and you definitely didn’t want Jessie getting in trouble.

“We haven’t slept together, plus you’re an adult, it’s not like I’m 20 and you’re 16! We’re both grown.”

“I know that, but good luck telling that to anyone else, they won’t listen!”

“I really didn’t mean to tell her, it just sort of slipped out and I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be an issue.” Jessie crosses her arms across her chest, she feels less warm than usual, less friendly, less inviting.

Only, it felt like it was a problem that she had told people. You weren’t sure why Jessie would think it was okay to go around telling people about your kiss without at least checking in with you. A small bubble of frustration with the woman sitting across from you started to build.

“Jessie, if people find out I could get fired! Sure, it might temporarily make your image bad but you’re too damn good, you’ll stay Captain, you’ll keep getting your call ups, keep being desired by different clubs, it won’t ruin your career like it could mine.”

“Nothing is going to get out, nothings going to happen, it’s not that big of a deal!” Now Jessie is raising her voice at you slightly. She’s leaning across your desk.

“Maybe it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal that to you, but it is to me.” You yell back, thankful that no one else was in at the office yet. You take a breath realizing this argument was not something you needed to be doing at 5:30 in the morning. “You should probably go do your recovery. I have things to get done” You point to the doorway.

“Oh.” It’s obvious the sadness on Jessie’s face and in her voice. A sudden change from her argumentative demeanor. “Yeah, I’m going to do that.” She pushed back from your desk. “I’m sorry.”

You let her walk out without saying anything. She doesn’t close your office door on her way out. Feeling stupid about the argument, you let your forehead come crashing back onto your desk with a loud thud, a lot harder than you intended.

“You okay?” You hear Jessie ask, hearing the sound of your head against your desk from the other room.

“Yeah, all good.” You groan back. You didn’t want her to care and feel the need to check on you. You know you shouldn’t care about he either but you can’t help yourself.

Despite being quite annoyed with Jessie at the moment, you’re unable to look away every time she passes by your door, doing exercises or walking across the room to get equipment. Time goes on and then you hear her digging in the ice cooler, the sound of a plastic bag and some shuffling around.

“Stupid wrap.” Hearing her talking to herself you stand up from your chair, it was your job after all to help with these things. You see her struggling to hold and secure a bag of ice she had made to her calf.

“Let me help you.” You offer empty hands to take the ice bag from her, grabbing the wrap and squatting in front of her to help her get it tight on her leg.

“Thanks.” She gives you a smile, the way she was grinning looking down at you sent a shiver through your body.

“Is it still treating you okay?” You look up at her from where you’re kneeling in front of her.

“Yeah it’s been good, just being overly cautious with it still, that’s why I’m doing all this.” She points down where your hands were wrapping the ice bag. You just nod, returning your focus to what you were doing instead of staring up at the girl’s pretty brown eyes.

You let the silence sit between the two of you for only a second before you break it.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted in the office just now. I think I’m just a little paranoid, we’re adults, we’re allowed to do what we’re doing technically. I just didn’t think you’d be going around talking about me and the fact that you kissed me.” You stand up.

“To be fair, I’m not going around talking about you to everyone, it’s really just been to Janine, she made some comments about you before we had even really talked much, she knows me too well. She knew I was interested, so she made some comments about me finding you pretty to which I blushed and she was onto me right away apparently I’m not great at hiding my crushes.” She looks down at her feet.

“I just freaked out, knowing that someone else knows that you had me against the wall, in my office.”

“If it helps, she doesn’t know I pinned you to the wall.” Jessie’s face is now a bright red. It’s suddenly very obvious to you how close the two of you we’re standing, face to face. It’s apparent that you can make out all the little details of her face, where each freckle sat across her nose and cheeks, you could see it all. Despite still being upset and frustrated with Jessie for telling Janine about your previous kiss, you suddenly don’t care and have the desire to kiss her all over again.

“Jessie.” You stare at her lips while saying her name. You don’t know if she noticed you’re staring, but her tongue runs over her bottom lip, wetting it.

“What?”

“Don’t, what, me. You know what.” Your eyes don’t move from Jessie’s lips.

“No I don’t. You’ll have to enlighten me.” You do, leaning in your hands finding her face you pull her toward you. Your lips meet hers, they’re warm and soft and plump against yours. Her hands find your hips, pulling you against her hard. Her grip is tight, it feels safe. This time you’re able to finish your kiss, both of you pulling away just before you debate sliding your tongue against her lips.

“You really should stop bringing coffee to my office I guess, it always seems to end like this.” You let out once you both breathe for a second. Jessie lets out a soft laugh.

You hear the door to the training room open and you jump away from Jessie, turning to pretend to organize something, finding nothing, everything already being packed up. This leaves you just standing there looking at the wall. You and Jessie both look over to see Janine standing there, coffee in one hand, training bag in the other and a smirk across her face.

“Well you two aren’t suspicious at all.” She says sarcastically as she walks from the doorway further into the training room and in your direction. “I’d recommend actually doing something to make it look like you two weren’t just doing what I think you were.” You can’t read her tone as she speaks to you. “Looking at imaginary things on the wall doesn’t really work as a good cover.” She stops behind you to speak softly only to you. You stay facing the wall, not wanting to turn and let either of the players in the room see how bright red your cheeks are.

“I’m going to go change, I’ll be back in probably 5 minutes, behave yourselves.” Janine says to both of you, she walks away into the changing room.

“Whoops.” You turn back to look at Jessie who is still standing where you kissed her. You both have matching blushes on your face.

“At least it wasn’t my mom this time.” You shrug at her, trying to make light of the situation again.

“I guess,” she shrugs back.

“But seriously Jessie, we can’t keep doing this, we leave for Paris in less than 36 hours. You have to go, be focused, be this team's leader, we can’t, I can’t be distracting you.”

“I know.”

“So that means no more surprise coffees, no more private meetings, like Janine said, we have to behave. Strictly professional from now on. No more of this.” You use a finger to point between the two of you.

“Strictly professional, got it.” She nods at you but her smile tells you she’s not taking you seriously.

“I’m serious this time Jessie.” You try your best to be stern with her.

“So am I.” You were both lying through your teeth, and you both knew it but neither of you were going to call each other out and say anything.

“Or just until the Olympics are over.” You add, hoping she’ll maybe be interested in whatever the two of you were doing come the end of the games.

“Until it's over.” She flashes you a smile before turning to leave, following in the direction Janine went to change. She flashes you a smile before heading through the doors. You move back into your office leaning against the desk.

“Hey.” You jump as Janine flies around the corner of your office door. She walks in closing the door behind you.

“Okay I don’t have a lot of time, but I need to talk to you really quick.”

“What’s up?” You move behind the desk, looking for her file pulling it out. You start to open it and Janine’s hand comes down on it, closing the folder hard.

“This isn’t about me.” She’s staring down at you as you sink back into your chair.

You realized exactly what this was about. “Oh.”

“If you so much as hurt a hair on her head-”

“I won’t.” You interrupt.

“I wasn’t finished.” You nod, letting her finish. “Jessie is a special human and quite frankly she doesn’t need you. She’s perfect on her own, she’s strong and independent and she doesn’t need you, but she wants you, so I’m going to respect that, but please let her focus on this tournament. I don’t know what you two are really doing, she’s been pretty tight lipped, but please. She’s smart but she might not think straight with her crush brain, she might think she can handle starting something with you during this tournament, but she can’t. She needs to be focused. She’d hate herself down the line if she let someone get in her head and mess with her playing. She’s worked her life for these tournaments. This team needs her focused, not distracted because of you.” Janine rants at you.

“I know. We’ve discussed it. I won’t be a distraction to her or to anyone. I promise, I want what’s best for her and the whole team.” You mean it, you want what’s best for the team, and you don’t want to distract Jessie or anyone, you saw how hard they all worked and would hate to be the reason anything went wrong.

“You seem like a good person, and given that Jessie likes you so much, you must be. So I’m going to trust you.” Her hand comes off the file on your desk.

“Janine! Come play Teqball with me!” Jessie hollers through the training room.

“Ahh the queen of Canada awaits.” Janine says, looking at you. She turns to leave, her hand on the doorknob. “Just so you know, I’m serious, don’t hurt her, I’ll make your life miserable.�� The way she spoke with still a large smile while telling you she’d ruin your life was slightly terrifying, but very much fitting for her Canadian personality.

“I know.” You just nod. And you did know. It wouldn’t just be Janine coming after you if you messed up with Jessie her entire team would hate you. If you distracted her from the tournament the country of Canada would hate you. You’d never get to work for a Canadian team, you’d never get to live that down. Your nerves build up a bit, even though you had no intentions to hurt Jessie ever, things happen, life happens.

Your spiral of nerves is diminished as you hear Jessie’s laugh carrying through the room. Just her laugh made you smile, your nerves ease. You were in deep, probably in too deep, but there wasn’t anything you could do now, except go to Paris and do your best to just be coworkers with Jessie. You needed to be invisible and not a distraction..

So that’s what you did. Or at least tried to do.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader

[mediumgayitalian]

“You ready, Lou?”

“Duh.”

“Cecil? You’ve got full faith in your cabin?”

“Yep.”

“What about you, Will? Were your threats successful?”

“My bribes went wonderfully, thank you.”

“Then I think we’re a go.”

“Gods, this is going to be great.”

———

Knockknockknock.

Nico locks in on his game. He is so, so close to finally making it through this stupid quest, he can feel it, and if he doesn’t beat The Imprisoned before Percy he’s going to set the camp on fire.

Knockknockknock.

“Just — hold on a second!” He spams B, cursing loudly to himself, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from holding this position for so long. “Fuck, fuck, come on.” He clenches his teeth, knuckles white against the Wii remote, until finally — the boss falls. He cheers.

Fuck yes. Take that, Percy.

Tossing the remote on his bed, he jogs over to the door, sliding open the three bolts and unlocking the chains. On his porch is a blur of movement, hair frizzy and pulled-on, shirt rumbled.

“Oh, hey, Annabeth.”

She barely acknowledges him, focusing intently on pacing back and forth on the stone porch at the speed of light. He settles against the door frame, stretching out his spine, watching her mutter to herself.

“Chiron is leaving,” she says.

Nico raises an amused eyebrow. “I am aware.”

“With Mr. D. To some conference.”

“I heard.”

“He’s gone until early tomorrow evening.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He left me in charge.”

“Probably wise.”

“I need an allegiance, Nico.”

“Slow down and tell me what you mean, first.”

She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Her fingers still drum across her biceps, and her eyes dart around, evaluating. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.

“Camp’s a lot of work,” she says finally. “I’ve never been in charge of so many people at once before, and like hell am I gonna let Chiron think I can’t handle it. I have a Plan, and you’re a part of it.”

Nico resists the urge to groan. Chiron leaving is supposed to mean he gets the next day or so off — no classes, no socializing, nothing. Just him in his cabin and the genuinely disgusting amount of junk food he has amassed.

(…And Will. Maybe.)

“It’s nothing crazy,” she promises. “I just need you to lurk.”

“…Lurk?”

“Yeah, you know. Chill in the shadows and scare people into complacency. You don’t even need to do much, just that thing where you stare at people like you know the exact day they’re going to die.”

“I do love lurking,” Nico admits. And to basically have a free pass to scare the shit out of whoever he wants… “I’ll do it.”

She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Nico! I knew I could count on you. I’ll meet up with you right after Chiron heads out, okay? To give you a list of people to keep your eye on.”

“Sure. Bye, Annabeth.”

“See ya!”

He closes the door and pads back to his setup, shaking the remote to get it going again. He can’t quite shake the smirk off his face.

The next twenty four hours are going to rock.

———

“Swiper No Swiping, initiate phase one.”

“Roger that, Sunny Dick.”

“…I’m revoking your code name priveledges.”

“No no no, I’m sorry, I’ll change it.”

———

Before Chiron leaves, he gathers them all in the amphitheatre.

“Children,” he calls, adjusting the bow slung across his back. “I am leaving now for my conference. I will be back before the sun sets tomorrow.” He gestures towards Annabeth, standing stiffly beside him. “Annabeth is in charge. Consider all my authority transferred to her before I return, am I understood?”

“Yes, Chiron,” courses the camp, some with significantly more attitude than others. Across the gathered crowd, Will catches his eye and winks. (Well, tries to. He has yet to catch on to the fact that he cannot, actually, wink, and instead just blinks really intentionally. Kayla and Austin have sworn him to secrecy.) Nico rolls his eyes, ears burning, and looks away.

“Good. Regular rules; no maiming, killing, or injuries above level seven. Any arson will result in a revoking of dessert privileges. Yes, Julia, even if you help in putting out the arson. It is the fire that is the issue, you understand. Excellent.” He claps his hands together. “I am looking forward to one day of peace. Try to avoid ruining it for me too quickly. Goodbye, children.”

With a wave and a fond squeeze of Annabeth’s shoulder, he trots over to Half-Blood Hill, ignoring Mr. D’s loud complaining about how long he took. With a snap of Mr. D’s fingers, they disappear. For a brief, uncanny moment, everything is still.

“Alright,” Annabeth shouts, clapping her hands together. Nico jumps. “Dinner is in an hour. Whoever is the first to fuck something up will be doing dishes. I will be watching. Dismissed.”

Wading through the swathes of ambling teenagers, she walks by where Nico is leaning against a pillar, half-hidden in the shadows.

“Lurk,” she orders, passing him.

Nico shoots her a mocking salute, fading into the shadow behind him. He barely catches her grin before he dissolves into the darkness.

———

“Phase two in effect. Ready to go, Sabrina Spellman?”

“Prepped to go, Teletubbies Sun Baby.”

“I hate both of you.”

———

“Halt!”

Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.

“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”

Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.

“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.

Annabeth stomps over to them, fists clenched at her sides, entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.

“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.

The three stooges exchange a look.

“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”

“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.

“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”

“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.

“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”

“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.

Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point. Idiots.

Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”

“Annabeth!” Will cries, hand to his chest, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”

“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”

Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.

“Tape off.”

Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.

“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”

With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name. Annabeth glares at the boxes with perhaps more disdain than the situation calls for.

Then again.

It is camp.

“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”

Like a hound dog locking in on a bleeding squirrel, Annabeth’s eyes narrow. Her lips spread into wide, frankly maniacal smirk.

“Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”

Caught.

“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.

“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”

“Do you three think I’m stupid.”

“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”

Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.

Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.

“Boo,” he whispers.

She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes.

“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.

On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.

“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”

“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”

Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.

Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.

Understanding dawns on her quickly.

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”

They squirm harder.

“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”

“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”

“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”

“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.

“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”

Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”

“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you, how’s that for fun. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”

“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”

Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”

“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”

“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a wide grin and two middle fingers.

“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”

Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.

“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”

“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.

“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.

“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.

Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.

He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.

———

“Is he still looking?”

“No.”

“Okay, Phase Three, let’s go let’s go let’s go —”

———

Every time Nico wakes with the sun, he sets aside twenty minutes of his morning routine to curse Apollo, his father, Apollo again, Phanes, and Prometheus. In that order.

He does like the bonus of getting breakfast. Usually he sleeps through it and has to hope Will saved him coffee cake, which he does, every time, because he wants to bribe his way into Nico’s affections. But there is something to be said about camp coffee cake when it is still warm, crumbly on the top and soft on the inside. It is a rare and occasionally worth-it treat, and on his bleary walk to the dining pavilion, Nico tries to keep this in the forefront of his mind. Fresh coffee cake. Fresh coffee. Fresh fruit. And Will, probably, not that seeing him is worth getting up early or anything. (So what that he gets all excited and energetic when he sees Nico up in the morning. If anything it’s embarrassing for him.)

For once, he’s actually early enough that there are very few people already at breakfast. He sees most of the Athena kids, still half-asleep over their mugs, and pretty much every camper under the age of eleven. A few head counsellors, too, watching out for the little ones or catching up on a rare moment of quiet. Nico makes a beeline for the breakfast spread, cutting a slice of coffee cake to leave on the platter and putting the rest of it on his plate. He puts a single strawberry in the middle of it so no one can accuse him of being unhealthy, then ambles over to the Apollo table.

“Neeks? Where’re you going?”

Nico pauses. He shifts his plate to one hand, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at the Apollo table. He counts one, two, three heads — Kayla, Austin, and…Cecil?

“Nico? You good, babes?”

He turns, slowly, to face the voice. Picking at a plate full of pineapple, next to Reika Onason, Lou Ellen's sister, is Will.

“I know mornings are hard for you, but you’re meant to eat at your table,” he teases. “Come sit, doofus. Unless you’re taking advantage of Chiron’s absence to make friends elsewhere, I guess, but it seems unlike you.”

“You’re — what’re you — what?“ Nico says dumbly, struggling to reconcile the imagine in front of him.

For some reason, Will is eating his breakfast at the Hecate table.

And that is not all.

For some reason, his camp shirt does not say head medic. For some reason, he is wearing black jeans. For some reason, dozens of Celestial bronze rings adorn his fingers, carved with sigils. For some reason, his hair is clipped back, and there is black eyeliner around his bright blue eyes, and his nails are painted darker than Nico’s, and he is sitting at the Hecate table.

“What are you doing?”

“Having…breakfast,” Will says slowly. His lips turn down in concern. “Nico, are you okay?”

“I’m fine! It’s — you’re the one acting weird!”

Will and Reika exchange a look.

“Maybe you should go see Cecil,” Will suggests carefully. “Did you sleep okay last night? Maybe you hit your head —”

Nico looks desperately back at the Apollo table. They watch him strangely now, too, and after a second Cecil gets up from his — Will’s — seat, and walks over.

“Everything okay?” he asks, impish expression almost serious. “You look pale, Nico.”

“I’m worried,” Will says. “He’s acting — confused, Cece, maybe there’s a —”

“I’m not confused,” Nico scowls. “You two are — doing something.” He gestures vaguely between them. “As revenge for yesterday.”

Will snorts. “What, the potatoes? Don’t let Lou hear you discredit her like that. If you think she’d plan some revenge prank on you this early, you don’t know her at all.”

Nico’s head starts to hurt. He sets down his plate, rubbing his temples. Why would Lou Ellen be so bothered by that? Why isn’t she here, with her sister? What the hell is going on?

“Both of you — cut it out. Whatever dumbass prank you’re pulling is just stupid.”

“Did I hear something about a prank?” Bounding over from the camp store, arms laden with contraband junk food, is Lou Ellen, smiling brightly. “Whatever it is, I want in!”

“Oh, thank the gods, you’re back.” Will makes grabby hands at the pile. She tosses him a pack of twizzlers off the top, rolling her eyes as he tears into like he didn’t just polish off two and a half entire pineapples and three bowls of oatmeal. “I was going through withdrawal.”

“I’m not helping you when your stomach cramps up,” Cecil promises, snorting. His eyes follow the candy ropes in their harried journey towards Will's gaping maw. “You can sit in your misery.”

“Bleh bleh bleh.”

Nico narrows his eyes at them. Clearly, they’re all in on this — bit, or whatever it is. It’s a little too coordinated to be a quickly-planned revenge prank. They must have had a backup to the potatoes, although a pretty weak one. Unless they somehow managed to bribe the entire camp into agreeing to act along with their dumbassery, and Nico knows none of them can come even close to affording that, then all it takes is one person on Nico’s side before their little ruse is broken.

“It’s too early for this,” Nico says, interrupting their bickering. He picks up his breakfast and trudges off to his actual table, ignoring Will’s pouting. He has to brush the dust off the bench, but it’s worth it to avoid whatever headache the three of them will inevitably give him.

Coffee cake, save him.

———

“It’s not looking good, Katara —”

“I actually like that one.”

“— he’s totally onto us.”

“Just stick to the plan. Power onto Phase Four.”

———

To Nico's great satisfaction, many other people do double takes as they walk into breakfast.

As the Athena table, minus Annabeth, who is likely putting out a literal or metaphorical fire somewhere, wakes up, they start to notice the strange seating situation. It starts with Malcolm, who stares at Cecil in a lab coat with the same expression Nico has seen him wear when attempting to solve the Hodge conjecture. He leans over to murmur something in his brother’s ear, and then all seven of them are looking between the Hecate, Apollo, and mostly-empty Hermes tables with suspicious frowns and furrowed brows.

Nico catches Will’s eye, smirking.

Game’s up, he mouths. Will only shrugs innocently at him.

It’s Annabeth who finally puts a stop to the nonsense, striding in at the tail end of the rest of the slowly-waking crowd. She has grass in her hair and murder in her eyes.

Excellent.

“I swear to the gods, I just dealt with you three,” she snaps, raising her voice so they all can hear her. Coincidentally, it attracts the attention of every other nosy person at camp, which is everybody. “Just ‘cause Chiron’s not here doesn’t mean the rules go out the window. Back to your tables, let’s move.”

“We’re at our tables,” Cecil protests. “Why do people keep saying that?”

Annabeth takes a very deep, very long breath. She has a whole day of this, too. How unfortunate for her.

“Maybe because you are full of shit, Markowitz. Go sit with the rest of you troublemakers.”

Kayla clears her throat. “Annabeth, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly together, lips turned down into a frown. “Cecil is exactly where he’s supposed to be.”

That gives her pause.

That gives a lot of people pause. Nico sets down his coffee cake.

“Cecil’s at the Apollo table,” Annabeth says slowly.

Kayla meets her gaze, face creased in concern. “...Yeah, I know.”

“Cecil is a Hermes kid, Kayla.”

She snorts. “Yeah, sometimes I think so, too. But as much as I would absolutely love to trade my brother —”

“Hey!”

“He’s a healer, Annabeth. He got claimed and everything.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Annabeth says, dragging her hand down her face. “Kayla, I don’t know what they paid you —”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” With a clatter of plates, Will clambers on the table, clapping his hands. “Your attention please, everyone!”

Without so much as a pause, Will claps his hands together. Immediately, a ball of green light expands from them, flashing almost too bright to look at. Nico watches, slack jawed, as he tosses it into the air, making it explode into a thousand little sparkles, descending gently over everyone’s heads. The little kids laugh in delight, reaching for them like they’re bubbles.

“Does that settle things?” he demands.

Silence rings for one, two, three seconds.

The camp erupts.

Dozens of voices overlap, all shouting over each other at once. Hands gesture wildly at Will, at Cecil, at Lou — trying to piece things together. Will is their head medic — isn’t he? Then why is Cecil wearing scrubs? And why is Lou chilling at the Hermes’ table, chatting with Julia over a bowl of cereal? Something isn’t right.

“Just — everybody quiet!”

It takes a minute, but everyone settles down, sitting back in their seats and fidgeting, looking around with half-confused, half-amused smiles. Like they’re laughing at a joke they’re half convinced is real.

“Who thinks this —” Annabeth makes some vaguely indicative movement at Will, Lou, and Cecil — “is weird? Raise your hand.”

Almost all hands go up. Only a handful stay down — Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil, of course, but the entirety of the Hermes cabin stays oddly silent, as do Kayla, Austin, Reika, and, shockingly, Clovis.

“Stoll,” Nico demands before Annabeth gets the chance, “you’re buying this?”

“Buying what?” Connor says after a moment. He shrugs, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m just chillin’ with my sister, Nico. Cecil is great, but he hasn’t been in our cabin since he got claimed.”

The rest of the Hermes kids nod in agreement. Whispers filter through the tables — first Kayla, now all the Hermes kids?

“If I may,” interjects Clovis, yawning. “There’s an…energy, around.”

“Gods, yeah, I was feeling it too,” Will agrees frantically. “Almost a…blanket, of some kind. Something heavy and stifling.”

Malcolm looks over with interest. “You think we got cursed, or something? The whole camp?”

Will shrugs. “Maybe? Can’t think of any other reason you guys are remembering things weird.”

“It could be a god’s interference,” Nyssa suggests, raising her voice to be heard from the Hephaestus table. “I mean, that’s what happened to Jason and Leo and Piper, right? Their memories got fudged.”

“Yeah, but camp-wide…”

“Could still be possible.”

“There’s no way! They’re fucking with us, come on —”

It doesn’t take long for the arguing to start up again. This time, though, more people looked spooked — more people look to the dumbass trio themselves, eyes wide like they’re looking at ghosts.

Like they’re believing this shit.

Nico scowls, shoving away from his table and stomping over to his boyfriend.

“You are so full of shit I can smell you from across the room,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He wiggles his fingers in Nico’s direction. They spark with the same green light. “Want me to switch your eyes and ears again?”

That sounds horrifying. “Try it and die.”

“Alright, grouchy.” He holds his hands up, stepping back from Nico’s glare. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Alarm bells go off in Nico’s head. This is more than just strange, it’s wrong. And not just ‘cause he looks different — so what if he looks different. Will could shave his head bald and tattoo himself purple, Nico wouldn’t care.

But his aura.

The essence of Will, that Nico has grown so used to be stopped noticing. The quiet, warmth strength, the feeling of a soft breeze in the summer, of walking past a window in the late afternoon, of smokey August campfires and scratchy guitar, is gone. Is different, rather; almost blocked. It feels like a cloud blowing over the sun, making everything warped and off and shadowy.

Something is afoot. Something is wrong, and not just some vague, made-up spell like the Trickster Trio would have the camp believe. Something like smoke and mirrors, something shadier.

He watches Will fall into step next to Cecil, ducking away from his ruffling hand. He frowns.

If there’s one thing Nico can do, it’s wade through the shadows.

———

next

#can anyone guess what these dumb ass mother fuckers did. #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #solangelo #established solangelo #will solace & cecil markowitz & lou ellen blackstone #annabeth chase #nico di angelo & annabeth chase #my writing #fic #longpost

[auteurdelabre]

PLEASE MISTER MILLER SEQUEL PART 7 - BFD!Joel x f!Reader

rating: 18+ (MAJOR FILTH IN THIS ONE)

pairings: Your Best Friends Dad Joel x f!Reader

warnings: FILTH, age gap, divorce, domestic bliss, public-ish sex, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v sex, all the sex and all the fluff, slightly possessive Joel, love love love.

a/n: Y'all I had major writers block with this one. Took me a bit but I think I got us there. One more chapter after this to go and I'm unsure of how to end it. . . Dunno what these two idiots deserve.

masterlist here

There's something strange about entering into Joel's home after all these months that makes your heart pound.  Joel carries your bags for you, chatting animatedly that the place might look different. His voice fades into the back of your mind as you look around. It all feels so surreal to be back in this house. Bizarre to see how Joel has made the place more his own in the short time since his separation. 

For one thing the frames that contained photos of Tess are gone. The only ones that remain are of him and Sarah smiling toothily at the camera.  Its clear Tess has not been in the picture for some time, despite her last ditch effort to connect.

A bunch of the furniture seems new as well. The sofa he fucked you on last Christmas has been replaced by a smaller, more streamlined looking leather piece and most of the knick knacks and colorful items from the rooms have been removed. The TV is propped up on a plastic stand that looks garish amongst the more subdued and tasteful décor.

The place is definitely a bachelor pad. 

The bedroom has been painted not green, but a gentle blue and that makes your heart clench tightly. The bed is new, has grey sheets and plush looking pillows. A stationary bike is in the corner.  The dresser is adorned with coins, old receipts, CD’s, pencils and a variety of other things one would normally find in a carpenter’s pockets. No longer in wicker baskets or small decorative dishes.

“Now you don’t have to stay in here,” Joel says seriously, his hand still on your suitcase handle as you glance around his bedroom. “We can set you up in the guest room like before no problem. That way you’ll still have your own space.”

You frown at him. “You want me in the guest room?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Joel.”

He sighs softly. “No, I don’t, not really.”

“So I can stay in here with you?”

“Only if you wa-“

You stop his rambling with a kiss before taking the handle from him and rolling it to the far side of the room. 

“Can I put my stuff in the closet? Or dresser?”

“Both.”

You start to unpack and Joel watches this with a soft little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Dinner is pizza sat on the glass coffee table, watching a movie you two could agree on. You spend most of it sneaking glances at Joel’s profile from the corner of your eye. You find yourself completely taken with everything about him – how his salt and pepper curls fall into his forehead, how his jaw clenches when he chews his pizza, how he huffs through his nose when he’s amused at something in the movie.

You’re pathetically in love with him.

Hours later the two of you collapse onto the bed side by side, too tired from the day’s travel to do anything other than sleep. Despite this, Joel takes great pleasure in watching you shimmy out of your jeans and shirt, pulling on your nightdress and climbing back into bed with him.

“Goodnight baby,” he murmurs as he pulls you into his arms, tucking you there underneath his chin after a soft kiss. “M’so glad you’re here.”

///

You've woken up next to Joel several times in hotel beds, but never his own. So when the sun lazily makes its way into the bedroom that first morning and you blink awake, you're almost startled to see him sleeping there next to you. You take in the grey of his bed sheets, the way his mouth parts slightly in his sleep, the way his hair is tousled from sleep and you feel your heart swell. 

"Morning, honey," you whisper. "You wanna get coffee?"

"Nuh uh," he mutters, eyes still closed. An arm slides over your waist, pulling you against him. "Want you."

Fucking in Joel's bed is just as delicious a fucking him in your dorm at college. Only now you don't have to rush or panic. You can just enjoy the way his skin looks in the morning sun as he buries his mouth between your legs with your thighs at his ears, his hands gripping your ass so he can devour you properly. 

"Right there!" You cry out, body arching for him. "M’so close, I just-"

You come with a shuddering cry, piercing the peaceful quiet of the bedroom.  Joel grins, mouth glistening with your arousal. He climbs up the length of your body, mouth ravishing yours before he urges you onto your belly. His body is heavy over yours, his mouth rasping against your ear.

“My turn.”

Joel gathers your hair into a ponytail, wrapping it around his palm and tugging you onto all fours for him. You give a soft whimper, delighted at the tugging sensation on your scalp. Joel grins, tugging you gently again by the hair as his free hand grips your thigh, urging you to arch ass in the air for him.

He sinks into you slowly, but when you whimper at the sensation and arch further the angle of your shifting hips allows his stroke to drive deeper. Already turned on out of his mind, Joel begins to thrust deep and fast, causing your eyes to roll back as you groan. 

"You like that?" Joel grunts, his hips snapping against your ass. 

"Uh huh." 

He continues on like this with his hand wrapped in your hair, tugging you gently as he fucks into you. He checks in with you every once in a while, a soft kiss to your shoulder and a husky ‘you still okay?’ before he continues with you groaning your desire for him to go harder and deeper.

He pounds into you with intensity, the rhythm of his fingers on your clit staying steady.You come with a shuddering cry, head lolled forward and Joel’s cock sawing in and out of you, his fingers dancing on your clit.

“Whose girl are you?”

“Yours,” you groan, flesh rippling as his hips slap against your ass in a frenzy.

"That's right," Joel growls before he nips at your earlobe. "Now prove it and soak my cock."

You cry out his name before thrusting yourself back against his cock.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he coos as you come down.

You hear his ragged grunts as you climax but notice that he begins to slow, his cock slowly dragging and plunging before tapering off. You look over your shoulder at him, your cheeks flushed. Joel is looking down at you with a strange look on his face. 

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Was thinking of tryin' somethin'," he murmurs, dark eyes sliding over your naked body as he gently pulls from you.  “You up for somethin’ a lil different?”

"Anything you want," you tell him honestly. And you mean it; Joel can use your body in any way he desires. You trust him absolutely. He’s never given you reason to doubt him. His face lights up almost boyishly as he grins down at you. 

"Yeah?"

You nod and he practically leaps off the bed. You grin, taking time to appreciate the sight of his deliciously taut ass twitching as his naked frame pads over to the dresser where he threw his jeans last night.  

You watch in quiet fascination as he un-loops the dark brown leather belt from the pair, sliding it around his palm as he looks over at you. 

"You've used a belt before," you remind him as he moves towards the bed, hard cock bobbing as you think of how he used a belt to bind your wrists once. 

"Not like this," Joel slides his tongue into his opposite cheek as he crawls back onto the bed behind you. His large palm slides over the curve of your ass, gripping a moment. You can feel his eyes on your naked body, heavy and hot. 

 "You trust me?" 

"Yes."

There's no hesitation, no balking. You simply rest there on your hands and knees, waiting. 

You feel Joel continue to watch you, no doubt observing the gathering slick of your cunt and the shine of it on your inner thighs. His hot and heavy breath is there at your ass, giving you a sharp nip on your left cheek that has you yelp and him chuckle. His warm hand soothes the sting immediately.

"So gorgeous," Joel murmurs as he kisses his way up your naked spine. You bow, wanting him to press his lips to every vertebra, to tattoo your body with his tongue and mouth. You feel him behind you, the warmth of his body curling over you as his mouth drags over your shoulder blade, slow and sensual. 

"You’re so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?"

His mouth is at your jaw as he asks this and by answer you tilt your head to capture his lips against yours. He makes a low noise, his hand going to curve around your throat, holding you there so that he can kiss you at his leisure, sucking your tongue into his mouth as your cunt weeps.

“Keep bein’ good, yeah?”

You feel him circle the leather around your waist, the sensation drawing a soft gasp from you. His eyes drift to your wait as he tightens the belt before notching it. It’s almost as if he expects you to wear it, only he keeps the tail end of it firmly gripped in his palm. 

"Tell me if it's too tight." 

"S'not," you purr, finding the sensation of leather biting into your hips and belly to be a turn on more than anything. 

He tugs gently, urging you back towards him before giving the belt some slack. His free hand is at your ass again, rubbing sweet circles over the mark he’s left. You feel him on his knees, bending back to look at you.

"Show me what's mine, baby."

You sigh contentedly, forcing your legs apart further, ass in the air, your face resting on the mattress. You know from where he kneels behind you be can see everything, including your puffy pussy completely drenched. 

You whimper slightly at the sound of Joel's groan. 

“Yeah, she’s all mine.”

Joel watches your muscles roll and skin prickle in anticipation and he can't stop himself from rubbing his palm up your spine, his fingers tracing where his mouth and tongue have travelled. 

You whimper again, cunt twitching as fresh arousal gathers there. Joel swallows a growl and you feel him notch himself at your entrance, guiding the head of his cock against your clit before sinking into your dripping cunt. 

“Joel!”

From this angle he feels so big, filling you so well. Your cunt almost stings from how big. When he begins to move you grip onto the bed sheets, body jolting as you let out little mewls of pleasure.

"So fuckin' good," Joel groans out between clenched teeth. He pulls out slowly, wanting to see his cock glossy with your slick before he’s sinking between your lips again.  He does it again and again, pulling out slowly, admiring how your pussy looks when its empty and then stuffed full of him.

He does this for several moments, working you up and making you cry out his name in broken little whispers. 

“Please, Joel.”

"I made you come twice already," Joel reminds you with a teasing edge to his voice. "Now you’re gonna lay there and let me fuck you full a' my come, pretty girl." 

All at once you feel him tug the belt back abruptly, sending you sliding back along his length as he thrusts forward and buries himself to the hilt. He does this over and over until you hear the squelching sounds of him fucking into you. It’s obscene and dirty and you fucking love it.

"You gonna do that?" You hear the smile in his voice as his hips start to pick up the pace. "Gonna let me fuck you full?"

The bite of the leather against your skin mixing with the feel of Joel's hips slapping against your thighs is making you quickly unravel. 

"Yes, Joel!" You cry out, not in pain but in pleasure. 

You surrender to his thrusts, sliding back as he pushes forward, using the belt to keep you at the perfect fucking distance. You hear his panting and the sound of your sweaty bodies smacking against one another. 

"What a bad fuckin' girl," Joel taunts as his hips slap your ass over and over at increasingly quicker intervals. "Came twice and she's so cock drunk she's gonna gimme another one."

"N-no Joel," you manage. "Gonna make you come." 

"Don't think you can," Joel rasps with a husky chuckle. "Think my bad girl needs to soak my cock again."

You cry out at the sensation of his length hitting you so deep. But the burning desire to do good, to pleasure him overrides this. 

"Wanna make you come, Joel. M'not a bad girl," you tell him almost petulantly as you move up the bed with a particularly aggressive thrust from Joel.  

"Oh no?" he grinds himself against your ass, tugging the belt again. "Show me how good you can be." 

You slide yourself back against the length of him, smiling into the pillow when you hear his shaky inhale. You do it again, slowly welcoming him deep before sliding off, the tip teasing your entrance before you feel the tug of his belt, forcing you back.

"Uh huh that's my good girl," Joel pants, surprising you by landing a quick slap to your ass with his free hand. "Yeah, that's it. Fuck yourself on it for me."

Your ass bounces as you bow your back for him, desperate for him to take what he wants. You urge him deeper, moaning as his hand gives you another swat on the other cheek.

"Deeper," you beg him, not just to make him feel good but because you're so fucking close. 

"You’re so goddam good," he tells you as he buries himself, sawing in and out of your slippery cunt. He tugs the belt, pulling you back along his cock over and over. You cry out loud from the dual sensations of Joel's cock and the leather belt. 

You feel as a few of his fingers slide under the waist of the belt, holding you more firmly in place as he begins to jackhammer his cock into your slot deeper than ever. It makes your whimpers come out in little huffs, your body shaking with each plunge of him between your thighs.

"Take... It.... Just... Like .. That." Each word is barked out with a pump of his cock into your cunt. "Good ... Girl."

You give out sharp little grunts with every thrust of him from behind you, your hands fisting in the sheets as your eyes roll back. He holds you firmly by the belt, head tilted back as his cock kisses your cervix.

"Stay right there," he pants, hips rolling aggressively now. "N'make me feel good."

"Yes," you promise, breasts shaking as he fucks harder and deeper into you. His hips slap loudly in against your ass, his cock so thick and so soaked as he slides between your swollen folds. You keen as his cock forces itself deeper and he starts grunting louder, punched out with each thrust.

“Fuck, fuck I  love yo-“

He can't finish the sentence. He's coming hard, pulsing into you as he grips your body, his lips pressed to your cheek, gasping as he thrusts. Your arm goes to bend around his neck, your flesh jolting as he uses you to finish. You smile through your mutual panting, finding his mouth as you tilt your head.

“I love you too, Joel.”

///

You wake up the first few days after staying with Joel with a coiled tension in your body.

There is a small part of you that is terrified that this is all going too good. That perhaps now that you know Joel is getting divorced and the forbidden aspect of the relationship is over that it will dampen your ardor for him. That his biggest fears he had about you will come true. 

But they don’t.

If anything your capacity for loving him grows. Doing crosswords together over coffee in the morning, going for walks hand-in-hand in the park near his house. Laughing over something stupid on the TV, playing cards late into the night.

He tells you he loves you every morning and every night. He holds you in his arms when you drift off to sleep. You feel a safety and a contentment you’ve never experienced before. Always waiting for the shoe to drop, but it never does.

And of course there’s the fucking everywhere, almost as if Joel has a personal mission to make sure you come in every single room. You don’t mind at all. In fact you encourage it one morning by bringing out the snowflake skirt from Christmas that you packed at the bottom of your bag, giggling in your dorm.

You put it on over a tight white tank top and bend over in front of him to grab the milk from the fridge, giving a soft “morning baby.” You can feel his sleepy gaze from beside the coffee maker and you arch slightly, pretending to not see what you’re looking for. You’re just starting to wonder if he’s noticed you’re not wearing panties when you hear him fall to his knees behind you, turning you around and fucking you with his tongue.

Seems Joel isn’t bored either.

///

Bitch I miss u! [sadface.jpg]

Sarah attaches a sad-looking selfie to the text that makes you giggle. Your time in Austin is limited, only two weeks remain before you head back home, so you have to think to the future even if that’s the last thing you want to do.

I miss you more! How is Chile?

I love it! We went stargazing in the Atacama Desert last night! [desert.jpg]

Holy shit you look so hot!

(EMOJI) Must be all the Chilean sunshine. You should be out here enjoying with your guy.

You feel your throat tighten. You can’t tell her that things are going well with your ‘guy’. She’ll want a photo. And you know she’ll recognize her own fucking house in the background no matter where you stand. Same goes for any coffee shops or local hot spots. So you try to change the topic.

How's Charlie?

Not so good. He just got an email about the job he applied for. He didn't get it so he'll jobless in September. We’re both pretty upset.

I'm so sorry. 

You frown at your phone, reading your text from Sarah. She seems pretty down about the whole Charlie thing. Sarah’s always been a planner, so you know that changes like this can really set her off.  She and Charlie had planned on San Diego for their next steps and it had seemed like Charlie was a shoo in. Sarah was already talking about the cute apartment they were gonna get after their travels. Your heart breaks for your friend.

It’s okay. I just wanted to say I miss u. Hope ur having fun with your guy since you loooooooooooooove him so much. One day you’re gonna have to send me a photo for approval. Gotta make sure he’s good enough for u.

I promise he is.

The door to the bathroom opens just then and a waft of steam exits, along with the scent of bergamot and whatever else is in Joel’s shampoo. He’s wearing only his boxers and the towel is slung over his shoulder as he rubs at his damp curls.

“Mornin’ baby.”

You watch him go to the dresser and pull on his black Miller Construction t-shirt, biceps bulging.

You lay in bed, gazing up at a freshly showered Joel who looks and smells so fucking sexy your pussy throbs. His broad shoulders ripple under the strained t-shirt fabric as he drags a comb through his wet hair.

“Do you really have to go back to work today?”

It’s been two weeks of just existing in this blissful cocoon of eating and laughing and fucking. You don’t want it to end, but of course life has to intrude.

“F’raid so, baby. I’m the boss and I better show my face before they start likin’ Tommy better.”

“Not possible,” you tell him with a grin.

“But to make up for it, I’m takin’ you out tonight,” he tells you, his dark eyes staring at you in the mirror’s reflection.

“A date?” you’re on your knees now, hands excitedly clasped in your lap. “Where?”

He drops the comb on the dresser, coming to sit next to you on the bed. He grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger, dragging your mouth to his only to stop an inch from your mouth.

“S’a surprise pretty girl.”

“How should I dress?”

“However you want,” he shrugs before kissing you softly. You hold in an eye roll at this. Men just don’t understand fashion.

He prepares to stand but he smells so good and he looks even better. His curls are drying into soft little salt and pepper waves and you need to have him. You pull him back for another kiss, tongue’s dabbing.

“Do you really have to go right now?” you ask with a teasing lilt. Your hand drifts between his legs and you smirk when you see his eyelids flutter.

“Yes,” he says sternly, his hand covering yours.

“Just five minutes,” you urge, hands coming to unbuckle his jeans, drawing down the zipper and sighing when his warm cock comes alive in your palm.

“I-I have to go,” he breathes against your mouth. “I gotta-”

“Just lemme make you come,” you whisper, kissing his jaw. “I wanna make you come, Daddy.”

Joel tries so hard to regain his thoughts but you’ve started stroking and he’s powerless. It isn’t long before he’s driving you into the mattress, hips snapping against yours and moaning your name into your shoulder as he tells you time and time again that he’s late, that he has to go, that… oh fuck you feel amazing.

It’s an hour later when Joel finally rushes out of the house, still pulling down his t-shirt as he starts the truck.

///

You’re sitting on the couch, going through job applications for back home as you wait for Joel to arrive for your date night. You’ve only got a week or so left here in Austin before you have to go back to your depressing life. You need to have a plan, a place to rent. You can’t move back with your awful parents. Parents who haven’t sent you as much as an e-mail since your blow up at graduation.  

The doorbell rings, surprising you into dropping your phone. You wait a moment, eyes wide as you stare at the door. Joel has never told you one way or the other if you should answer it. What if it’s Tess? What if it’s a nosy neighbor?

Ding dong.

Fuck it. If it’s a neighbor you’ll tell them you’re a friend of the family. If it’s Tess…well… You don’t know what to do about that.

You straighten your dress, trying to look composed as you sail to the door, opening it a crack and peeking your head around.

Joel stands there on the front porch dressed in a pale blue button down and fresh jeans. He’s smiling widely at you and in his hands he holds a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Some yellow, some pink, but the ones that really call to you are the white sleepy looking ones.

“I’m here to pick you up for our date,” he rumbles, his eyes glittering. His eyes sail over your face and the sundress you’ve chosen. “Fuck you’re a knockout.”

You blush, taking the flowers from him as you open the door widely. “Thank you, they’re stunning.”

“The yellow ones are kerrias and those white ones? They’re called summer snowflakes,” he says as he watches you gazing at them.

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

You press a kiss to his eager mouth, his lips chasing yours when you pull off squealing.

“I’m gonna put them in water!”

You find a tall vase under the sink and arrange the bouquet inside, gazing at them with your cheeks hot. You’ve never been romanced like this. Conrad thought jewelry and expensive dinners were enough. Joel does those things but he does so much more. He remembers little things, he calls you beautiful, he cherishes you.

Joel is still standing by the front door as if this is a real date and you hurriedly rush back, pulling your purse over your shoulder. You take in his button down and jeans again, scrunching your nose in confusion.

“How-“

“Had the clothes in my car,” he tells you with a grin before offering his arm. “Ready to go, beautiful girl?”

///

He takes you to a food truck for dinner, not exactly what you were expecting, but certainly nothing to sneeze at. The streets are busy, lined with tourists all snapping photos, laughing, listening to the street musicians.

“They got the best tacos here,” he informs you as he passes you a carton holding several. “And there’s somewhere I wanted to show you.”

You follow him down the busy main streets of Austin, past the various folks that try to sell you trinkets. You come upon a group of people bustling around one specific site, a painted mural of a piece of toast saying “You’re my” and a dab of butter boating the words “Butter Half”. You grin at it.

“They did these murals all over Austin,” Joel explains as you approach it. “Some’ve been around for decades, some more recent. S’one of my favorite things about Austin. I look at ‘em all the time when I need a walk, or to clear my head. S’better than any art gallery, cheapter too.”

“Are there more?” you ask, taking a bite from your taco.

“Yep.”

As the two of you eat your dinner, Joel takes you through a walking tour of the neighborhood, pointing out the various murals that you pass. Some are funny, some political, some devastating.

Wherever you go people are posing in front of them, flashing peace signs and smiling broadly at phone cameras.  An especially popular one is the one on a green background with the red spray painted words: I love you so much. Compared to the rest of the colorful pieces its sweet in its simplicity.

“I like that one,” you muse.

“Me too,” Joel says, kissing your temple and taking your hand.  He grabs you an ice cream around the next block, watching as you grapple with not letting it drip down your palm in the summer heat.

You watch Joel’s face turn into a smile as you pass a woman with two children. One in her arms, the other tugging her towards one of the murals. You aren’t blind to the way his eyes get wistful, his mouth tight. You think of your conversation over spring break when he didn’t really answer your question.

"You really want more kids, don’t you?" You offer gently. 

"Uh, maybe, yeah," Joel shrugs, almost embarrassed at being caught out. "I mean, I had Sarah when I was nineteen goin' on twenty. Would be nice to be a dad when I'm not scrambling paycheck to paycheck with a wife who's got one foot out the door." 

You nod thoughtfully, your tongue coming to take a slow lick of your cone.

"Just so you know, it's not a deal breaker," Joel is quick to explain when you go quiet. "I mean if we... You know… You don’t need to want them." 

"But you just said you think you want another kid."

"I want you more." 

You feel your heart hiccup at that. You have to turn away so he doesn’t see how your eyes have grown glossy. Sometimes Joel says the perfect, most amazing thing and he doesn’t even realize it.

The subject is dropped for the time being. It feels like too much too soon.

"S'funny I've never been a PDA person," Joel muses as he runs his fingers along your spine as the two of you continue to walk. "But I can't keep my hands off of you."

"Same here,” you admit. “I used to hate it when Conr- when my ex would hold me around the waist when we walked. It felt so… possessive.”

“I’ll make a note of that,” Joel muses with a smirk.

“That’s different,” you say quickly, eyes wide. “I… I wouldn’t mind it if you did it.”

“You like me bein’ a little possessive of you?” Joel murmurs, smirking down at your increasingly red face. You give an airy shrug, hoping it conveys a sense of indifference.

“Maybe.”

His hand wraps around your waist, holding you against him as you keep walking. And it doesn’t feel like possession, it feels like love. Everything Joel does feels like love.

With your ice cream gone but your hand still sticky you come to another mural, this one a black painted wall with writing all over. The closer you get the more you can the details. It’s like the wall of the building has been painted like a huge chalkboard. Stenciled on is the same question over and over ‘Before I die _________”.

You can see there are so many answers in chalk all over it.

 Before I die I want to visit Australia.

Before I die I want to see Harry Styles in concert.

Before I die I want to write a book.

“You ever answered this?” you ask as you read more of the various scripts.

Before I die I want to make a change in the world.

Before I die I want to win the lottery.

“Yeah. Once.”

You turn to him when he doesn’t elaborate. He’s got a funny little look on his face, staring at the mural.

“When?”

“Little bit after Christmas,” Joel mutters, almost embarrassed. He tries to keep walking but you hold him steady by the wrist. He looks back over at you, his cheeks stained pink at the cheekbones.

“C’mon, tell me,” you urge with a gentle tap of your hip against his. “No secrets, remember?”

The day is quickly turning to night and Joel’s silhouetted in the golden hour, making him look almost angelic as he stands there. The deliberation is clear in his expression before Joel huffs a soft sigh, his mouth twitching into a crooked smile as he leans forward, his mouth at your ear.

“Before I die, I want to hold Snowflake one more time.”

Your eyes fill with tears as he pulls his face back from yours, his own eyes damp. You know how he must have been feeling last year. The same way you had been, only you’d convinced yourself it was one-sided. A fleeting infatuation.

How wrong you had been.

///

You and Joel haven’t brought up the fact that you have to leave soon. Three days in fact until your unofficial time with him is over. Three days left of kissing and hugging and whispers of fidelity and love are shared. Three days left of fucking him over every imaginable surface.

You want to distract yourself from the oncoming misery so you send him a text with items you’ll need to make him a special dinner. At six promptly the front door to the house opens and Joel comes walking in, weighted down with grocery bags.

“You’re sure you needed all this stuff?”

“Mhm,” you jump up from the couch, padding after him into the kitchen. “I wanted to make something special to celebrate our time together.”

Joel grins over at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he drops the bags on the counter. He leans forward and presses a peck to your mouth. You feel his tongue dab against yours and you know exactly what he’s up to.

“Get outta here,” you say pushing him gently and going to stand at the counter. “I gotta start cooking.”

“I just wanna watch,” Joel insists, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle. You want to deny him, but his hands are coming to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging it free from your skirt.

“Joel-“

"Remember when you sucked my cock right there?" Joel groans into your hairline, pressing you into the counter with his hips.

"Yeah," you whimper, feeling his hand curling around your panties and tugging them down over your ass.

"Fuckin’ filthy girl."

“Mhmmm,” you murmur, hand going behind you to slide down his front. His cock is already hard when you squeeze it through his jeans. "Wanted you to fuck me against it."

"We can make that happen," Joel grins against the crown of your head, pulling himself from his jeans. "You want that, baby?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon now," he breathes as he sheaths himself in your dripping pussy. "You be good an' loud for me. You tell me how good it feels." 

You do. 

Subsequently dinner is late, but delicious.

“Holy shit you could cook all this time?” Joel whistles between bites of cornbread and steak amongst your other homemade items. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me.”

“Maybe I just like your cooking better.”

“Mhm.” Joel gives a roll of his eyes at that.

Despite the both of you being stuffed from dinner and dessert, you still want to fuck him later that night. It feels like urgency as you think of time ticking away, but as you roll towards him in bed Joel doesn’t quite seem himself.

He’s looking at the ceiling, brows scrunched together. It makes you nervous even as you lay curled in his arms.

“What’s going on?”

“Huh?” Joel turns his attention to. “Nothin’ baby.”

You both fall quiet, your fingers twisting in the duvet. Your mind goes home to a house that feels cold and empty. To a bed that won’t have Joel in it. You try not to feel too devastated. You don’t want to ruin what precious time you have left.

You tilt your head, seeing that Joel is staring up at the ceiling again.

You shuffle to balance your chin on his sternum, gazing up at him under sleepy lids. You want to memorize his face, the way his chest falls when he breathes or the sweet, gentle way he’s gazing at you.

"What do you think of stayin' here a bit longer?" Joel whispers, hand coming to rub the hair over your ear.

"In bed?"

"In Austin."

"Like, for the rest of the summer?"

The thought makes your pulse pick up. You are in absolutely no rush to head back home to your parent’s house.  In no rush to leave Joel's warm arms and warmer smile. 

"Longer 'n that," Joel murmurs. Your brows knit together. 

"You said you were plannin' on doing your courses online," Joel explains. "And you were lookin' for a part time job but you didn't have one yet. So why not just do it all here? I know lots of people; I could find you a job easy." 

You stare at him a moment as you digest this. Joel is asking you to move in with him. And instead of fear or unease you felt at the thought of doing so with Conrad, your face blooms into a beaming smile.

"You've really been thinking about this," you say both touched and amused by him. You crawl up the length of him, wrapping your arms around him.  

He goes quiet, looking embarrassed for a moment before his arms tighten around you, holding you to him as he kisses your neck. 

"I'd love to," you answer with a soft peck to his lips.

“Yeah?”

"Yeah,” you grin, blinking back the wet. “I never wanna leave Austin...Or you… Or this bed." 

Joel's mouth finds yours, hands pulling you more tightly to him as if his joy can be expressed better physically. 

"And if it's too much stress don't worry about the job," Joel assures you between kisses. "I'll take care of you."

"Joel, I'm not gonna sponge off of you," you insist with a frown. "I'm not gonna be a kept woman. I'm gonna get a part-time job while I finish school."

"Well until then I've got a job for you," Joel says with a crooked grin as he pulls your hand over the hardening cock in his sweatpants. "One I know you're more than qualified for." 

///

The sunrise feels different in Joel's bed. You can't quite explain it. It's like the colors are more vibrant peeking through his blinds, the warmth more gentle against your skin. 

Joel is always wrapped around you, legs twisted, your head buried in his neck, as if even sleeping he never wants to be without you. The serenity of these first moments of consciousness never fails to amaze you. 

One morning you can't help but marvel at how beautiful he is when he sleeps. Plush lips parted, eyes softly shut, dark lashes fanning over his cheek. His golden body muscled and warm from slumber.

And he’s yours.

The concept overwhelms you and you find yourself pushing your body from the bed, energy forcing you to the kitchen where you put on a pot of coffee before padding into the living room. The sun hasn’t quite risen over the neighborhood yet. 

You sit on the window seat, shoulders loose and your head tilted to the side. Your hands are in your lap, loosely curled against your ankles, the percolating coffee forgotten as you take in the beauty of the morning.

You’ve never had things like this; quiet, peaceful mornings where the day stretches out before you full of sublime joy and possiblity. Always in school or at home with your parents or with Conrad. But with Joel you just exist, not beholden to anyone but yourself. 

This is what happiness is.

You hear footsteps pad slowly towards you and you glance up over your shoulder to see a mug of coffee extended in your direction, made just the way you like it. You take it along with the full lipped kiss he gives you. Joel’s eyes are sleepy small and his body is still warm from slumber.

"Watch the sunrise with me," you whisper. 

Joel nods before taking a seat next to you with your situating yourself in his lap, leaning back into his chest as the pink of the sky bleeds into blue. You sip your coffee slowly, reveling in the security of Joel's body, the steady rise and fall of his chest, at the way his muscled arms wrap around you like a cloak. 

You're both silent as the gold of the morning breaks through, casting everything in that hazy romantic light. You don't even notice the tears until they plop onto your bare leg. Joel must notice too because he cranes his head to peer into your face. 

"What's the matter, baby?"

His voice is early morning rumble. You sniffle before gazing up at him with a watery smile. 

"I'm just so happy." 

///

In early July Austin goes through a heat wave that leaves everywhere absolutely sweltering. It has you and Joel resting on the living room floor, the air conditioner and fans whirring around you. Joel wears nothing but shorts and you nothing but a skimpy pair of cut offs and tank top. But neither of you is feeling amorous.

The heat carries into the rest of the work week leaving Joel sweaty and exhausted when he comes home. The air conditioner is working overtime but the sticky heat lingers. It makes doing much seem impossible. You’ve been stuck inside the last few days, eating cold meals and trying to do as little as possible.

Joel doesn’t always have bad days at work, but when he does you want nothing more than to take the weight from his shoulders. You can tell it’s an especially bad one today because he kicks off his shoes and drops the toolbox at the front door.

“Bad day?”

“Tommy thought it would be great to sign off on tile that we can’t fuckin’ afford on this latest remodel,” Joel all but snaps, collapsing onto the couch with a groan.

“I’m sorry. Can I do anything?”

“Lower the price of fuckin’ tile?”

You don’t say anything to that. Suddenly you feel very small, as if this is somehow your fault. As if you do in fact control the price of tile. You glance around the house and see plates on tables, cups forgotten. You should’ve cleaned today instead of looking at jobs.

"Let’s go for ice cream after dinner," you offer, trying to rouse his spirits. “My treat.”

"S’too hot. It'll melt before we even get a lick in."

"Home Depot?" You suggest, knowing it’s one of Joel’s favorite spots to walk around.

"It'll be crowded and we might see some people I know."

It's a bit of a sore point between you two. Joel hasn't introduced you to anyone and you've made no effort to make him. You enjoy this little cocoon you've created and don't want anything to spoil it. The thing is you have an idea that Joel would like to start introducing you, but Sarah has to know first.

Neither of you is looking forward to that.

“Could make those boozy slush things we saw?”

“Nah,” Joel replies, sweat beading his forehead.

You’re feeling irritable from the heat and unhappy that Joel’s bad day has somehow translated into you feeling shitty.  

“Well you’ve shot down all my ideas why don’t you come up with one?”

“I just worked ten hours in the blistering sun. I’m sorry if I’m not in the mood to plan a fuckin’ date,” Joel snaps, sweat beading his forehead.  “Maybe if you gave me five fuckin’ minutes t-”

Whatever else Joel had been about to say is lost because you’re already striding from the room. Your legs feel like jelly and you are almost blind with tears. You rush to the guest room, slamming the door behind you. 

You throw yourself onto the bed; eyes squeezed shut as you try to even out your breathing. Your heart is pounding and you want to sob. But another part of you wants to tell Joel off, to tell him to go fuck himself.

You hear the door to the bathroom opening, then the shower running. You roll onto your back, eyes glaring up at the ceiling. Ten minutes pass before there’s a knock at the door. You pull yourself to a sitting position, holding your knees.

“Baby?”

You don’t answer. You don’t want to listen to him, to look at him. You’re furious at him for this and you’re terrified because this feels like your first real fight together.

When you don’t say anything he gently pushes the door open, dark eyes peeking around the door to see your tear-stained face glaring back at him. His brows saddle and he comes to the end of the bed, just looking down at you.

“So I guess that was our first real couple fight,” he offers guiltily.

“Yep.” You sniffle. "I don't like it."

"Me neither. I'm so sorry I snapped," he tells you earnestly, dropping to his knees beside the bed, but not touching you. "I know you were just trying to help. The stuff at work an’ the heat just got to me."

You shrug. “I didn’t give you space.”

“Space I’ve never asked for before? Nah, I was just bein’ an asshole," he says gently and you see the harshness leaving his handsome features. “Came home like a bear with a toothache. All you were tryin’ to do was make me happy.”

“Still.”

"I appreciated it,” Joel tells you gently. "Just maybe if I'm upset gimme time to cool off. I can have a bad temper at times an’ sometimes I just need to be in my head about it for a bit."

His hand grips your knee gently, squeezing to let you know all is well on his end. You allow it, feeling your animosity leaving you at the exchange.  

"Okay," you nod. "I can do that." 

"So I'm forgiven?"

"Always.”

You lift his hand from your knee and Joel smiles at you, accepting your gentle kiss to his palm without hesitation. He kisses you tenderly before pushing the sweaty hair from your face, his nose brushing yours.  

"I have an idea of how to cool off."

An hour later you're at the movies with its sweet, beautiful air conditioner and giant tubs of popcorn and sodas in your laps. You and Joel pick the next movie playing which turns out to be some superhero fair he enjoys. You smile when he laughs, watching out the corner of your eyes as he does, your heart light because everything with Joel feels possible. Fights seem manageable.

Life is beautiful. 

///

It’s the start of August when you start a part time job at a bookstore nearby. You and Joel discovered it during one of your lazy Sunday morning adventures where you try new coffee places.

 It’s a quick bus ride from your place, but Joel insists on driving you when he can. But today you’ve been let go early due to over-staffing. You don’t mind at all, taking advantage of the beautiful day.

You walk down the sun-dappled streets feeling buoyed. You walk past the strip mall, glancing at the stores that line it. You normally don’t pay attention, but today your gaze is drawn to the sultry photo of the model in the store window.

Where Sensuality meets Style.

You don’t know what you’re expecting to do when you go inside the shop. What you’re not expecting is to come out a half hour later with some of the most scandalous lingerie you’ve ever owned.  It’s black and strappy and shows more than it covers.

The second you get home you jump in the shower before primping. You take the lingerie out of the bag delicately, eyes wide with delight.

The lace black bra is completely see-through and the deep blush of your nipples are easily visible. There are decorative straps that hug the curves of your breasts. The panties match the fabric of the bra, low cut and barely covering your ass. Around your middle is a strappy black garter belt that matches the straps of the bra. You pull on the sheer black thigh-highs, attaching them before spinning, turning to see you from every angle in the bedroom mirror.

You look hot.

Your strappy high heels have been in the bottom of your bag, waiting for such an occasion. You tie them up, smiling to yourself. Joel is going to be very pleased. You pull on the black silk robe that came with your purchase, a thin little kimono-style that barely reaches your knees.

You’re just applying a deep shade of red to your lips when you hear Joel’s truck pull into the driveway. Your heart skips a beat and you quickly spritz yourself with the perfume Joel bought ages ago.

Showtime.

You hear the key starting in the lock and with a dramatic flourish you throw open the door as you undo your robe, letting your lingerie doing most of the talking for you. You strike a pose, hip jutting and tits out.

"Hope you're ready to get your cock sucked Mister Mill-" 

Your eyes blow wide when you see the man on the other side of the door isn't Joel at all. It's a younger man with similar eyes and curls, his hand raised and holding a key to the house that he was in the process of unlocking. 

The man averts his eyes to the ground politely before breaking into an embarrassed grin. You pull the robe around you tightly, cinching it and squeaking in humiliation.

"Now I see why my brother keeps rushin' home after work," the man says with an unsteady laugh. 

Brother. 

This is Tommy, Joel's brother that you've heard so much about. 

Fuck 

Sarah's uncle. 

Double fuck.

"I…uh..." You falter, terror running through you. 

Tommy looks immediately apologetic, his dark brows furrowed. 

"Hey now, there's no need to be embarrassed," Tommy assures you. "Joel's his own man. I ain't gonna tell him he's too old and ugly for a pretty young thing like yourself."

You wonder if you should make up a lie like you're the house cleaner. But no, you can't after you answered the door dressed like you are. 

Triple Fuck. 

"It's not just that," you say and suddenly you feel the blush heating your cheeks. "It's uh... "

"What the fuck is goin’ on?"

The two of you glance over to see Joel pulling his truck into the driveway beside Tommy’s. He nearly jumps out while it's still parking. His legs scissor quickly over the grass, nearing to you. 

You hear Tommy swear under his breath as his older brother advances. Joel sees you in the doorframe, your eyes wide. He glances down your body when he sees you’re wearing a robe before glaring at Tommy. 

"What the fuck are you doin' at my house?"

"Came to get those tools we talked about." Tommy tries to smother his smirk. "Didn't know you had company."

"You could've called." 

"Never had to before." 

“Well you do now.”

The two brothers stare at each other speaking through micro expressions. You worry that a fist fight is about to break out if you don't de-escalate the situation. 

“I’m gonna go change," you say with an awkward laugh.

"I'll grab the tools," Tommy mutters, wincing at the angered look from Joel. "Think they're in the back shed, yeah?"

"Or the garage. Can't remember."

The two continue talking lowly but you’re already in the bedroom with the door closed. Your cheeks are flushed and your heart is beating like mad as you go to the dresser to pull out some jeans and shirt, your hands trembling with anxiety.

What if Tommy tells Sarah?

She'll be devastated. She needs to hear it from you and Joel, not her uncle. 

You hear the bedroom door open behind you and you see Joel slip into the room, his dark eyes on you. 

"I'm so sorry," you say as he approaches you. "I thought it was you."

"Course you did," Joel murmurs, coming to stand next to you. "How could you have known my idiot brother would be breakin' in?"

"I'd hardly call it breaking in," you say with an eye roll. "He had a key."

"Not anymore." Joel frowns, his eyes noting the robe again. "Did you just wake up?"

"No," you say, suddenly shy. "I was... I was wanting to surprise you.”

Joel's gloomy mood is immediately broken. His mouth curves into a broad smile. 

"My girl," he coos, fingers pinching your chin softly. "So thoughtful." 

You want to say more but Joel's fingers are sliding down your neck, ghosting over your breasts and then at the sash untying quickly, eyes wide with anticipation. He practically tears it from you as you hold in a giggle. 

When Joel sees the lingerie underneath you feel his gaze turn ravenous. 

"This is what you were waitin’ to show me?" Joel murmurs, hands trailing down the front of your lingerie. 

"Yeah."

"Turn for me," Joel whispers. You spin gently in his arms, feeling flustered. He grips a handful of your ass, groaning at the sight as it falls. "Fuck baby. I don't deserve this." 

"You deserve more," you tell him, looking at him over your shoulder. 

You spin slowly in his grip, feeling his fingers drag along the sheer fabric. Joel casts an appreciative gaze at your breasts barely contained. He's groans feel the back of his throat, his hands cupping you through the fabric. He sees your nipples and latches his full mouth over one, sucking through the fabric. 

"Joel!" 

He does the same with the other, soaking the sheer fabric and leaving you panting. He twists you gently, his hand sliding over your covered mound. 

"Gonna let me fuck you, pretty girl?"

"Now?" 

"Mhmm," Joel murmurs against the shell of your ear. "Can't wait when you look that good." 

"I guess I could show you what I had prepared," you tease. 

He watches you slide onto your knees in front of him, hands deftly coming to his belt and zipper. 

Joel watches this with his mouth parted and his gaze electric as he watches you pull his cock from his jeans. He's rock hard and when you swipe your tongue over the head he hisses. 

You kiss the head gently, feeling him twitch with every graze of your full mouth over him. Your tongue comes out to give long, wet licks to the shaft and you hear him groan above you. You place him against your lower lip, watching the red bloom on his cheeks. 

You look the very picture of debauchery on your knees with his cock resting against your lips. 

"Can I please suck your cock, Joel?"

A full-bodied shudder goes through him at your husky plea. His hand comes to cup your cheek as he gives you a soft shake of his head. You're surprised at this and when he tilts, bringing you to a stand in his arms you furrow your brow. 

"Need to feel your cunt, baby," he says grazing his lips against yours. 'S'that okay?" 

You pause, indecision flirting across your features. You're not exactly quiet when Joe is inside you.  He turns you, holding you from behind and urging you towards the bed. But you pause, your pulse thrumming.

"Tommy might hear."

"He never should have come here," Joel tells you as he nuzzles the back of your neck. "His own fault if he hears somethin'."

"Joel!"

"Mister Miller," Joel croons against the shell of your ear and suddenly you understand. The dynamic that started all of this, fucking when you could be caught. He's throbbing against your back and you smile, grinding back against him. 

"You're so bad, Mister Miller," you coo, feeling as delicious goose bumps prickle all over, whimpering when Joel's palm cups your pussy through the fabric.

"Must be what you like, cuz you're soaked," he reminds you, nipping the flesh of your lobe. "Get on the bed for me, bad girl."

His hand moves from your pussy to slap your ass playfully. You barely hesitate before you shoot him a smirk and go to unbuckle your heels but Joel stops you with a firm shake of his head.

“Leave ‘em on.”

You grin up at him before turning onto your stomach, sure to arch appealingly as you crawl on all fours to the center of the mattress. Joel watches this from under heavy eyelids, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. 

You throw yourself onto your back, giggling softly when Joel comes to bracket your thighs with his own. He looks down at you with a heat in his eyes that you can feel burning within you. He leans over your body, warm and heavy and his head drops, mouth coming to lick your hardened nipple through the gauzy black fabric. The other is pinched with his free hand, worrying them both into straining points. 

He does the same with the other, attentive as you sigh in exhilaration. Your thighs band around his waist, holding him nestled against you. His hands are tugging the front of your lingerie down, exposing you to him. 

"Gorgeous," he breathes, huffing along your sternum, kissing down your stomach. It twitches under the contact. 

You give a small gasp of surprise when Joel tugs you by the ankles until your ass is at the edge of the bed. His hands slide up your black thigh highs, inhaling as he looks you over. He brings your legs to either side, hooking your heels at his shoulder before kissing each ankle bone sweetly.

He begins subtly licking his lips in anticipation as he views you, eyes taking their time to see you pliant and waiting for him. His thumbs hook in the waist of your thong, tugging it off officiously over your ass as you squirm excitedly below him. He brings them off over your ankles and shoes, the heels at his ears.

"Wrists together," he murmurs, the black edging out the remaining brown of his eyes.  

You exhale slowly, trying to calm the flush going through your body. You hold out your wrists to him, your own eyes bright. 

Joel smirks down at you before binding your wrists securely with your panties. The fabric is taut around your wrists as you raise your arms above your head, letting them fall back on the mattress.  

"We shouldn't be doing this," you tell him, playing into it as you gaze at him through hooded eyes. "Shouldn't fuck me when he could hear, Mister Miller."

"Maybe I want him to hear," Joel replies smoothly, surprising you. "Maybe I need him to know why he doesn't come bargin' into my house." 

You giggle up at Joel, watching him bring his cock from his pants. He's remarkably hard, the head weeping as he guides it to your entrance. You’re practically folding in half, your legs against his chest, his cock teasing your clit.

"Spread those legs for me," Joel murmurs with adoration in his eyes. "Lemme see how wet she is." 

"Yes, Mister Miller."

Your thighs part and he gives a heavy sigh at the sight, his hands holding your ankles against his shoulders. You lay there bound and exposed to him and you've never felt safer. You exist in the harbor of his love, protected.

Joel's one hand goes to your inner thigh, sliding until it reaches the seam of your cunt. You give a soft whimper as his fingers drive forward, grazing your clit.

"Fuckin' perfect."

Those same fingers begin to curl, coaxing more delicious whimpers from you. Joel watches this all with eager interest, his cock weeping at the sight of you restrained and spread wantonly for him. When he adds a third finger you feel your thighs begin to quake. 

"Don't make me wait anymore," you beg needfully through moans. "I need your cock. Please." 

Joel slowly removes his fingers, slipping them from you to wrap around the base of his cock, drenching it in your arousal before he leads it between your trembling thighs. 

"Anythin' you want, baby," Joel grins down at you. "Anythin' you want."

Joel slides into you with ease. It's not shocking; you're already dripping for him. He lets out a groan before his hands go to your thighs, parting them further, allowing him to thrust deeply, his ass clenching as he bottoms out in you. The two of you give a soft gasp at the sensation. 

“Never felt this good,” he tells you, eyes heavy. “Not with anyone.”

His palms slide down your thighs, grazing over your calves until they come to stop at your ankles. Joel takes one in each hand, pressing a kiss to the delicate anklebones before he's parting your legs obscenely until you’re almost doing the splits below him, your pussy glossy and pink and full of his cock. He holds you open like this, eyes ravenous as he continues to sink into you.

“Attagirl,” he croons as his head tilts back. The sensation is divine and you let him guide your movements, your hands on the bed and your legs held spread by Joel. From this angle you can see him enter you slowly, shaft glistening as he strokes in… and pulls out, grazing your clit.  

"So full," you whimper, eyes rolling and back arching off the bed. He feels so good, so perfectly thick between your legs when he does it again. "So good."

He grips your ankles tightly, dark eyes peering down as he stands next to the bed. Your tits bounce with every drive of his hips into you. 

"Take it all, baby" Joel grunts down at you. "Make me proud." 

He’s still standing, still slightly tilted over you beside the bed. It’s impossible to touch him, only to lay there, spread-eagle with Joel’s cock driving into you over and over, deeper and deeper.  Sweat begins to shine along his shoulders as he fucks into you, little groans escaping him as he watches your body ripple under him.

"J-Joel!" You groan out, hands groping the sheets.

"Not my name," Joel grunts, his hips slamming into your ass. 

"M-Mister m-M-ah-Miller!"

He's going faster, his soaked cock pistoning in and out of your cunt as your body rocks against him. Your hands are in the blanket, gripping there tightly as Joel holds you wider as his pace quickens. Your hips burn, your thighs strain but you crave more. You glance down again, watching as he saws in and out of you, his cock dripping with you arousal.

"Takin' it so well," Joel grunts out loudly when he sees you watching. "Pussy is just fucking milkin' my cock today, pretty girl."

At the sound of your groan in response he fucks into you furiously, balls slapping your ass and making sharp smacking noises in the quiet bedroom. It’s this sound which brings you back to yourself, recalling that Tommy is likely in the house at this very moment, tools in hand.

"You gotta be q-quiet!" You whimper between his deep thrusts. Joel may be fine with his brother hearing the two of you fuck but you certainly aren't. 

"Nuh uh," Joel grins almost ferally. "Not in my house... Wanna hear my bad girl scream my name."

It’s so fucking wrong.

"Say my name," Joel urges. "Wanna hear it when you come."

You're brain goes fuzzy, knowing what Joel requested. But a pleasure is building between your legs and drifting into your veins. It makes your mind work sluggish, unable to form the right words.

“I’m gonna come-“

“For who baby? Say it?” Joel demands, and now he fucks you hard, his balls tightening when you bounce on his cock.

"Daddy!"

Both sets of eyes blow wide at this. Neither of you were expecting that to be the honorific you groaned loud enough for Tommy to hear. But the sound of it is potent and Joel grips your hips tightly in his hands and fucks you deep.

"Fuck yeah you are," Joel grunts out obscenely. "Give it to Daddy."

You try to cover your mouth but Joel is thrusting so quickly, so deep your hands fly to gain purchase on the mattress. 

"You're so deep," you moan, your breasts rolling as he pumps into you. "It's so good!"

You know that if Tommy is still in the house he's heard everything. But you don't care, all you can do is look where Joel has you spread lasciviously, his soaked cock pumping in and out of you. 

"Come on my cock, come on Daddy's cock," Joel chants in a hush, sweat shining on his brow. "Need it baby, Daddy needs it now." 

Joel's collar and neck are pink, his cheekbones red. His teeth are clenched and bared as he watches himself fuck into you. His biceps are curled, holding your thighs widely open for him. 

He's magnificent. 

His eyes roll back a moment, his hips stuttering a moment. He's getting close. 

"Come for me," Joel groans out, his eyes stuck on yours. "Be a good girl and come for Daddy."

And suddenly you can't stop yourself. Your hands are clutching the blankets and your body is arching off the bed violently as your orgasm takes you over. 

"Fuck, Daddy! I'm coming!" 

Joel gives a broad grin before grunting your name as he spills inside you with your trembling legs still spread wide, ankles held by Joel's large palms. 

Finally he comes down, his panting heavy as he collapses into the bed next to you. He brings you over to him, wrapping you in his arms and grinning in your hair. 

"That'll teach Tommy to come over unannounced."

///

The two of you are on the sofa; your head is resting on a pillow in his lap. He's watching the news on TV while you scroll through your text messages. The two of you were out in the backyard today, Joel mowing the grass while you did some sunbathing. The two of you are sunburned and sleepy from it.

Sarah and Charlie are in a club. The lights are low and colorful. The image is slightly fuzzy. Sarah is being held in Charlie's arms and she holds up a glass of something alcoholic judging by the way she's peering into the camera, mouth in a sloppy smile.

Looks like you're having fun!

Chapter c ch jjj JG da

Hah yeah, Sarah's drunk. Luckily Charlie looks in control of his faculties in the photo. 

"Is that Sarah?" Joel asks his eyes catching the edge of your phone. 

"Yeah."

"Lemme see," Joel says reaching for the phone. "She didn't send me a photo today, just a message about some museum."

He's fake pouting, irked that you've received something from Sarah while all he's had this week are texts. His brows rise when you pull your phone out of his reach, holding it against your chest.

"She's... This isn't a photo she'd want her dad seeing."

Joel's face immediately contorts into disgust and you burst into laughter. 

"Not like that," you say between wheezes. "She's at a club with Charlie and they're both drunk. I don't know if she'd want her dad seeing her wasted."

"Yeah probably not," Joel relents after some thought. 

It's the first time you've been the bridge between them. A spy working on both sides. It makes you feel funny, like its wrong that you love both of them. While your love for each is not the same in nature, they have both carved parts for themselves within your heart. 

“Baby?” Joel murmurs from above you.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to know that I’m serious about you n’ me.”

You glance up to his face before pulling yourself into a sitting position next to him. Your heart melts as he gazes at you.

“Me too.”

“So I wanna tell Sarah about us,” Joel says quietly. “I don’t like lying to her.”

He must see the terror in your face because his hand falls over yours.

“Doesn’t need to be while she’s off havin’ an adventure. Don’t wanna spoil that for her. But she gets home soon and when she does, I wanna tell her. If nothing else about this relationship, we're at least gonna do this part right." 

"It's too soon," you tell him with a flutter in your chest. 

"I wanna hold you in my arms out in the open," Joel murmurs against your temple. "I'm tired of keepin' you a secret, like we’re doin’ something wrong. I love you and that ain’t wrong.”

You feel yourself turn to a puddle at his feet when he tells you that. 

"I love you too." 

"Sarah talked about coming back here before her job starts up," Joel explains. "Just for the weekend. I think I need to tell her then."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'll invite her over for dinner and we'll talk."

"What if she's upset?"

"She probably will be," Joel says, sighing heavily. The thought of his daughter being upset with him churns his guts. They've been through so much together, but that's why keeping you a secret is so hard. 

"But I can't keep lying to her."

"I know." 

“So it’s decided,” Joel tells you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “When Sarah comes home next week we’re gonna tell her.”

“Yeah,” you nod resolutely. “We’ll tell her then.”

///

There are few people in this world that Sarah Miller can depend on. 

After her mother left when she was a toddler Sarah’s always had a feel of being forgotten. Of being left behind.

Her dad is someone she can depend on.  Always there if she needs to talk, helping her set up furniture, there when her heart has been broken, there when she needed money or someone to help her buy a car.

He's a good dad. A good man.

And so when the taxi pulls into the driveway on Rancher Street Sarah breathes a sigh of relief at the familiar windows and freshly varnished front porch. A classic Joel move that he does every summer.

She’s several days early since she caught the earlier flight to surprise him. She can’t wait to see him after all these months away. She’s missed him and his silly jokes, his dumb DVD’s and the way he always listens as if she’s the most interesting person in the world.

One the few phone calls she’s made home he’s seemed different as of late. More spring in his step, more smiles, quicker to laugh. She figures it must be the divorce from Tess. The woman had never really understood Joel, even if she was perfectly kind.

Sarah throws her bag over her shoulder, heading into the house.

It’s not just the excitement of being home that has her almost three days early. It’s also because she just got the news that she was hired here at a clinic in Austin. One that pays well and offers benefits and makes her really really happy just at the thought. 

Unfortunately during their time this week Charlie was offered a temporary position over in Santa Fe. An equally amazing opportunity and one that he couldn’t possibly refuse considering his other job fell through. Both of them had been glassy eyed as they realized their time apart would stretch well over six months. 

"It'll go fast," Charlie insisted over dinner one night that Sarah was feeling especially down. "Six months is nothing. And then I'll be back in Austin and ... I think we should move in together." 

Sarah thinks of her dad living in the house by himself and it breaks her heart.

No Tess and eventually, no her. 

///

Your favorite thing about Sunday is that you and Joel take full advantage of it being his day off. You sleep in, tangled in each other's arms. You usually wake up to Joel's mouth on your neck, kissing gently before whispering your name and a raspy "you up, baby?"

He never does anything more until you confirm you're awake, and then he waits for you to take the lead. Sometimes it's a kiss to his cheek and the announcement that you want to go out for croissants at that new coffee shop you both discovered.

Sometimes you press your hips to his and urge him inside you, both of you rocking to a slow and sleepy orgasm. He holds you against his slumber-warmed body as he murmurs how good you are for him, how perfect you feel. 

On Sunday afternoons you lay with your legs over his on the couch. He usually has a book in one hand, the other gently resting on your calf, tracing absently. You’re usually reading your Kindle, eyes wide when you come upon something surprising. Your breathing elevates and Joel always hears it. 

"What's goin' on now?"

"She just found out she has to stab three faeries in the heart with wood daggers."

"Shit, really? Here I thought the whole puzzle-lever thing was bad."

There's something about his focus on you, the intense desire to learn everything you have to share. This support, this focus, it makes you fall even harder for him. It makes your eyes go glassy and unfocused. 

He knows the look. It makes him close his book with a muted slap, dropping it beside the couch before he's tugging your pants down and burying his face between your thighs until you cry out, fingers twisted in his curls. 

In the evening you cook together, something your parents never did. It’s usually something easy like chicken or pasta as the radio hums behind you. On nice nights Joel BBQs with you bringing him a beer as he smiles at you, commenting that he's spoiled rotten. 

Then it's TV or a movie and then to bed where more often than not, Joel urges you onto his lap where he lathers praise all over your body as your hips roll over his. 

Or if you're both tired he simply drags you into his arms and whispers how he can't believe he got this lucky, how happy he is, how beautiful you are. He touches you with affection and care and you repeat much the same, feeling as if your heart could burst. 

It's perfect and quiet and peaceful and you've never felt like this. So safe in his arms, so protected. 

This Sunday however is different. You wake up to an empty bed. You frown, sad not to feel the warmth of his body against yours. 

Maybe he's making breakfast, you think. He does this sometimes, waking you with strawberry waffles. But there's no noise from downstairs, no lingering aroma of sugar and syrup.  Its possible he’s working on emails for the business.

So you stretch languidly before pulling yourself from the warm nest of the bed. You brush your teeth, before padding downstairs. You hear shuffling in the kitchen and smile as you enter. 

"Baby, let's go to that bakery, again" you croon sleepily sauntering into the kitchen wearing nothing but Joel's oversized Miller Construction t-shirt and your panties. "I wanna see if they have those cro-“

The second you see a figure standing by the sink the words die on your tongue.

“Sarah?”

At first Sarah doesn't connect the dots. She's confused to see you here at her house, her mind trying to connect the dots of why her college roommate is here at her house wearing her dad's clothes. For an insane moment she’s actually excited you’re here, thinking that you must have come here for her and she steps towards you, her smile bright.

Then she sees the look of absolute terror crossing your features and Sarah looks to the counter to see two emptied wine glasses probably from last night. She sees the small touches around the home like your jacket slung over the dining chair, a lipstick tube by the microwave.

She takes in how your hair is mussed, like you just woke up here. And then suddenly, belatedly, Sarah puts two and two together. She steps back from you as if you're a stranger who's broken into her home. 

"What the fuck?"

"Sarah I can explain-"

Like some terrible farce, the front door is unlocked and pushed open at that very moment and Joel's voice rings out. 

"I got coffees but they didn't have any of those croissants you liked from last time," Joel calls out to you, his voice turning teasing. "Maybe tomorrow if you're a good girl-"

Joel enters the kitchen with a smile on his face that immediately drains when he sees Sarah standing beside you looking horrified. 

"Sarah?"

He drops the coffees he was holding, letting the steaming contents fall to the ground where no one attempts to pick them up. The drinks just seep it into the tile floor as the three of you cast eyes to one another. 

Everything in you wants to run to Joel, to have him hold you during this awful moment. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. You were supposed to be prepared and respectful, not in the middle of some domestic fantasy with the scent of sex still clinging to the both of you. 

And when you see the pure anguish in Joel's eyes when he looks at his daughter you want to vomit. In this moment you would take it all back. The fucking, the kissing, the loving, you'd erase it all if it means Joel never has to experience this pain. 

He takes a tentative step forward to Sarah, blinking furiously for a moment as he steadies his breathing.

"Sarah-"

"What the fuck is going on, Dad?" 

Joel's lower lip trembles as he thinks of how to explain this. But how can he without hurting her? 

"Sarah I can explain," you stay, shrinking when she turns her suddenly furious eyes on you. 

"Well, someone'd better."

You've known Sarah for years. She's been pressed, angry, frustrated. But you've never seen her like this. With the kind of fury that makes you shrink back from her. The kind of anger that radiates off of her and causes you to lose your courage momentarily. 

"Y-your dad... Joel and I are seeing each other," you say wincing at how pathetic that sounds. "We're together."

Seeing each other? You're in love with him. He asked you to live with him. You want to build a life together. You want to marry him one day, even though you’ve never voiced it.

"You're seeing my dad," she repeats slowly giving a mirthless laugh. "You don't even know my dad."

"Honey," Joel says and you both glance up at him. You cringe as Sarah realizes this the same time you do. 

"This is disgusting," she utters with a shudder. She looks at Joel with a look of absolute disbelief. "She's my age, Dad."

"I didn't-" Joel falters and he casts a desperate look in your direction before he's looking back at his daughter. "It's not an age thing."

"Right."

"S'not," Joel insists honestly. 

She stops and you feel your stomach sink when recognition flashes across her anguished face. She looks over at you, grimacing.

"Joe," she says barely above a whisper. "That night I heard you at the bar you weren't saying Joe. You were saying Joel."

"Sarah-"

"How long has this been going on?" Sarah’s voice is up two octaves. "How long?"

"Christmas." 

"Christmas?" Sarah looks ill. "You've been fucking my roommate in secret for almost nine months?" 

"Sarah," Joel warns. "I know you're angry but-"

"I'm not angry!" Sarah insists. "I'm disgusted. You're like twenty years older than her, dad."

"Eighteen," you offer quietly. The dark looks they both give you assure you that your addition was unnecessary. And suddenly Sarah’s attention is on you, her fury focused on the woman wearing her dad’s clothes.

"I brought you here to my house after Conrad dumped you because you said you were so heartbroken and you fuck my dad?" Sarah seethes. "You make it so he gets divorced?"

"Tess and I were headin' that way for a while babygirl," Joel interjects. "Long before Christmas."

"Who made the first move?"

Joel and you exchange a look and it's your cheeks that heat and your eyes that drop to the floor. 

"Me," Joel lies. You don't want to argue with him right now, but you both know it sure as hell wasn't Joel who started things. 

It was you who forced yourself into his room. You who begged him to let you suck his cock. You who rode him, demanding his come. Joel had come around eventually, but there was no question on who initiated things. 

"It was me," you insist. "I pursued him."

Sarah is staring at you with glassy eyes, chin wobbling and the sight of it devastates you. "I thought we were friends."

Now you feel your eyes growing damp. "We are-"

"Friends don't sleep with their friends dads!" Sarah insists and before you can answer she's whirled around to face Joel. "And what the fuck dad? Since when are you one of those midlife crisis guys?"

"S'not a midlife crisis," Joel explains. 

"No?"

"No," Joel says sharply. "This ain't some casual fling. I'm in love with her."

Even though he's told it to you so many times, hearing him say it out loud to someone else has your eyes spilling over with tears. Fuck you wish you were holding him right now. 

"In love," Sarah scoffs with a tremor in her voice. "Bullshit."

She spins quickly and before either of you can reply she's jogged out of the house, slamming the door behind her. The tears are in Joel's eyes along with a heavy dose of panic shot your way.  

"I have to-"

"Don't have to explain," you urge him. "Go."

Joel nods and before he leaves he turns briefly, eyes cast to you. He marches to you and kisses gently and all too briefly. 

"I love you."

And then he's gone, his body striding from the room after Sarah. Only once the door is closed behind him do you allow the sobs to escape.

///

Joel returns hours later to find you sitting on the couch, dressed and looking into space. You’ve packed all your things in your suitcase and duffle. Your clothes are clean and you try your best not to cry when you see him.

He looks exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. You can tell he’s been crying, or trying not to, all day. He looks at you sitting there waiting and you see his brows saddle. You don’t go to him, don’t approach him. You wait for him to sit next to you on the couch.

“Come here.”

Only then do you launch into his waiting arms, letting him bring you into his lap. You straddle him, but it’s not sexual. You do it so that you can hug him tightly, your chests pressed together, hearts beating in tandem.

"She was coming home cuz she got a job out here," Joel explains, your head tucked under his chin. "She uh, she's wanting to move back home for a few months. Til Charlie’s back from Santa Fe.”  

“Makes sense.”

You feel Joel swallow and you pull back, still seated on his lap facing him. He looks so lost when you gaze at him, hand coming to cup his cheek.

“What is it, baby?”

"She says she's not gonna come in the house until you're gone," he says with a tremor in his voice. You see the sheen begin in his eyes, the way he blinks it back rapidly.  

"I don't know what to do," Joel murmurs. 

"You know exactly what you have to do," you answer for him, sounding stronger than you actually feel. "She's your daughter Joel. She had your heart long before I did." 

You both know that this is it. This is the end of your story. For Joel, Sarah's welfare will always be his top priority and if you're honest, you wouldn't respect any other choice. 

"It's okay, I already packed my bags," you answer. Joel looks struck dumb, his brows knitted together.

"You did?"

"After I saw Sarah's reaction I just knew," you say sniffling, your fingers going to a stray thread in the collar of his t-shirt. You twist it around your finger, watching the blood pool in your fingertip. "There’s no way for this to go on without hurting her.”

"I think maybe ... Maybe if we give it a few weeks," Joel tries to reason, but you stop him with your fingers gently coming to press against his full lips.  

"Joel."

You both know it won't be a few weeks. The damage done to Sarah is deep. You both know that just from seeing her reaction. You know that your continued presence here will only increase the divide between them and you know you can't do that to the man you love. 

If she’d come home when she was originally planned there was a maybe it could work. If they’d presented it confidently, holding hands, a united front. If they’d explained it calmly instead of being found out and acting guiltily maybe there was a chance she would have come around. But now? After what she stumbled upon? You can’t say that you would be any different.

Your hand moves from his mouth to cup his cheek once more. The rasp of his beard tickles your palm as you hold him, gazes stuck on one another.

"It can't be over," Joel says, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't give you up. I just found you."

Your heart breaks at those words coming from the man who wants nothing more than to take care of you, to love you. 

"You have to," you say, sniffling. "I never want you to choose between me and Sarah. It's an unfair ask."

You also know that he will always pick Sarah. He has to, he's a father first, your boyfriend second. You see it in the resigned way he clenches his jaw. It’s why you love him – that devotion, that love.

Joel falls silent a moment, his fingers tracing the small snowflake pendant you haven’t taken off since he gave it to you.

"But she has no right to be upset," Joel insists after a moment. "You're grown, I'm grown, we're both single-"

"You're in the middle of getting divorced and I'm your daughter's best friend," you tell him flatly. "And she found out completely by surprise that we've been together for months and that we'd been having an affair when you were married to Tess."

Joel is solemn. Hearing it all out loud sounds so harsh, so vulgar. But it's the truth and you won't hide from it.  Your head is on his shoulder, cheek pressed against the soft fabric.

"She has every right to be upset. I would be if I were her."

And while it's true, it doesn't stop the hurt. It doesn't stop Joel from trying to think of an alternative.

"I could put you up in an apartment in town and-"

"And drain your bank account? Make you sneak around and lie to Sarah?" You shake your head gently. "I won't let you do that, Joel. And I won’t hide away like a dirty secret, terrified of being found out." 

Joel’s eyes are shut tightly, as if he's trying to block out this entire day. 

"We had months of happiness and love together and maybe we have to just be thankful for that." Your voice is quivering.

"S'not enough," Joel insists, his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. "I want you here with me. I need you." 

Tears are falling down his cheeks at the same rate as yours. Even as your lips tremble and your view of him becomes a watercolor blur, you press on.

"Maybe this is what we have to live with after what we did, Joel. Maybe we don't deserve a happy ending."

This is what breaks Joel and you see the light fade from his dark eyes. You see the way his face sobers as you both realize there's no coming back from this. 

You don't want to prolong this heartache. You want to go and cry somewhere private. You want to regroup. 

"I'm gonna call a taxi to the airport hotel."

"I'm drivin' you."

"No Joel," you say, shaking your head. "I... It'll be too hard. I need us to say goodbye here and now." 

You know that if he drives you you'll invite him into the hotel room. You'll fuck all night, making sorrowful promises, extending the pain. You need to sever it quickly. 

Joel sniffles softly before nodding. His eyes are wounded, large and imploring. 

"Can I call you?"

"I don't think it's a good idea." Even as you say it you feel your heart crumbling. "Not for a little while anyway. If Sarah found out..."

"Right."

You see the mixture of pain and frustration in his dark eyes. Your hands go to either side of his face, holding him, thumbs grazing his stubbled cheeks. 

"Don't be upset with her," you urge. "She's done nothing wrong. And she loves you more than anything."

"I know." His voice is soft and you know that nothing in this world could make him care less for his daughter. It's one of the things you love most about him. You lower your hands from his face. 

The two of you lapse into silence and finally Joel brings out his phone and presses it a few times. You crawl out of his lap and the two of you stand beside the couch. Joel murmurs a few things into the phone before hanging up.

"Taxi'll be here in ten minutes."

Joel brings you into his arms, holding you tightly to him and rocking back and forth. For the next ten minutes you hold one another, your face buried in his the crook of his neck. 

"I'm never gonna stop lovin you," Joel tells you plainly, mouth against your temple. "Even if I never get to see you again. I need you to know that." 

You want to say so much to him but your throat has closed up entirely. You want to thank him for loving you. Want to thank him for showing you what real love looks like. 

He kisses you with the regret of years of his love unfulfilled. He kisses you with the desperation of a man who knows his time is up. He kisses you with all he has and then he releases you and now you find the words 

"I'll love you forever, Joel."

Because you will.

He follows you onto the sun baked driveway, the two of you walking past Sarah in Joel's truck. You see her swollen, tearstained face and feel guilt start anew. You never wanted to hurt your friend like this. The only real friend you've ever had in your life. The loss of her friendship is its own kind of pain that burns deep.

Joel fights the urge to touch you, to kiss you again; you can sense it in the way he stands so close to you as the driver loads your suitcase into the trunk of the taxi. 

"Goodbye."

He can't help himself. His hands go to either side of your face, holding you there as he moves his lips over yours, kissing you fiercely. You let him, your hands gripping his waist as he tastes you one last time. 

When the driver gives a loud cough Joel pulls back, his eyes wet again. There are no words left. Only the sorrow of your dual gazes as his thumb strokes your cheek. 

"Promise me you'll find someone who makes you happy," you tell him in a rushed whisper, holding him tightly. "Someone who makes you laugh and feel good and wants to have babies with you."

"I'm not-"

"Promise me Joel," you tell him firmly. 

"Only if you promise me you're gonna find someone who treats you right," Joel all but begs. "No more fucking Conrad’s. No more boys that don't appreciate how fucking perfect you are." 

"No one could ever love me like you do," you tell him through broken sobs and Joel wraps his arms around you. You go to wrap your arms around his waist until you see that Sarah is watching the two of you from the truck with a disgusted look on her face. You pull back from him, trying to summon all your composure.

Maybe it was always meant to end like this. Maybe it's exactly what you deserve for selfishly starting this all last Christmas. Part of you thinks that it’s not fair. That your love should overcome this. But then a larger part feels like it's what you deserve.

Happiness this wonderful doesn't deserve to last. 

“Goodbye, Joel.”

Shielding your eyes from the sun you cast one last look at Sarah over your shoulder, hoing she sees that this isn’t some fling. Praying that she sees the love you and Joel have for one another as she bursts out of the truck and forgives you both.

But instead she glares furiously at you, making your stomach sink as you accept that this is the only possible decision. 

You crawl into the taxi, pulling the door shut and give him the address for the airport hotel. You can't look at Joel but know that he's standing there staring into the cab. 

As the taxi pulls away from the curb you finally tilt your eyes and watch as Joel's form grows smaller and smaller in the back window until he's nothing but a mirage. His voice stays with you though, even and tender and husky.

I’m never gonna stop lovin’ you. 

You absently finger the silver pendant around your neck, musing darkly that snowflakes never last that long.

@fanficaddictmwah @southernbe

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[moodriingz]

Waiting Room pt. 2 | Q. Hughes

Summary | part one it’s Quinn’s turn to pine over the reader while she tries to move on, but can she do that when she’s still in love with Quinn?

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc

Warnings | Angst?, mutual (but blind) pinning, cursing maybe 

Author's Note | Thank you so much for all of your support for part one! I feel so bad that it took me forever to write part two, but this semester really kicked my ass. I hope this lives up to the hype. I honestly just wanted to get it done to move on if that makes sense? I’m hoping to continue writing so feel free to send requests! I’ve also recently gotten into F1 so you can send requests for that too!! xx

Masterlist

“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too.” 

Quinn felt sick to his stomach. Not only had your friendship dwindled out of nowhere, but now you’re with someone else. Worst of all there was no explanation to why you pulled away. Quinn racked his brain for any reason why you would stop hanging out with him. 

Now he had to watch you give your attention to someone else. He was so jealous of this random guy. Quinn wondered what made Evan better than him? All he knew was that the bright smile and light blush you seemed to always have was for some other guy now. 

A couple of weeks passed and Quinn barely spends time with the team outside of practice and chooses to spend his time going through old photos and videos of the two of you or watching anything you’ve ever suggested to him. He’s halfway through one of your favorite movies when there’s a knock on his door. His heart flutters hoping it's you, but is immediately let down when he realizes that it's Elias and Brock at his door.

“What do you want,” He asks begrudgingly, leaving the door open as he returns to his couch.

“We wanted to make sure that you’re alive,” Elias said.

“Well now you know bye,” Quinn quips at them.

“Dude something is up with you and we’re not leaving until we find out,” Brock said.

“Is this about Y/N?” Elias asked.

“Fine yeah it’s about Y/N. I just really miss her,” Quinn admits after taking a deep breath.

“We used to talk almost everyday and that all stopped on the last road trip and now she’s seeing that new guy. I was finally going to ask her out and she just shut down.”

“Wait you were? You told me you didn’t see her that way and she overheard,” Elias says confused.

“She heard me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Quinn asks as his heart shatters all over again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“She was so upset and I didn’t think I could change your mind. She had been pinning after you for months and you never did anything, so I just believed you,” Elias said with a shrug.

“I didn’t think she felt the same way so I was just putting my feelings aside because I cared more about our friendship,” Quinn says, putting his head in his hands. “I think I royally fucked up.”

“Maybe not, Y/N and Evan don’t seem super serious yet. You might be able to wiggle your way back in with her,” Elias says sitting down with Quinn.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Maybe bring her coffee? Start there and see what happens,” Brock suggests and Quinn just nods making a game plan to get his girl back.

The next morning he gets up early for practice to go pick up your coffee from the cafe you always go to. He knew where to go because the cafe printed their logo on their cups and he had plenty of time to take note of it. As he walked in he immediately recognized your silhouette waiting in line.

“Looks like you beat me to it today,” Quinn says walking up to you in line.

“Beat me to what?” You ask confused why after not talking to each other for a month he decided to come to your cafe.

“I was going to bring you coffee today,” He says awkwardly with a small smile on his face.

“Oh well you can still pay if you want,” You suggest as a joke.

“Yeah I guess that’s true,” Quinn says, hoping a conversation would start on its own. After a minute of silence he gives in and asks, “So what’s new with you I feel like we haven’t really talked that much recently.”

“Nothing much, you know filming you guys all day,” You say wondering if you should mention Evan. It’s still so new and you don’t know if it's going to work out, but he makes you so happy.

“I actually just started seeing this guy. His name is Evan, I think you would like him actually, he's really nice,” You say, deciding to rip off the bandaid.

Quinn knew he wouldn’t like Evan because he was getting with the girl of his dreams.

“Yeah maybe you should bring him out with us after a game or something. I'd love to meet him,” Quinn says kicking himself because that’s the last thing he wants, but anything to get back in your good graces. 

You give him a smile at his comment thinking of what to say next. Luckily for you the barista calls for you two to order. And just like you suggested, Quinn paid. He offers you a ride to the arena before you even start walking back to the metro station to get to work.

You both sit in silence trying to think of anything to talk about. You finally start the conversation by mentioning that an author you had recommended to him a while ago put out a new book and how excited you were to pick it up. 

Just like that the two of you fell back into conversation like you hadn’t missed a beat. You arrive at the arena way quicker than you thought you would and almost don’t want to get out of the car and leave Quinn again. You walk inside and as you are about to separate, but Quinn stops you.

“Would you like to go stop at a bookstore after work today to pick up that book? I could take you home after so you don’t have to take the metro home,” He asks hoping you would say yes.

Yeah that would be really nice. I’ve really missed hanging out with you,” You say with a smile and leaving to go get your work started.

“What’s got you smiling like that? Evan?” Megan, your coworker, asks jokingly.

“Actually no I ran into Quinn this morning when I was getting my coffee and we just talked for a while. Now we’re hanging out after work,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. Hoping to hide your smile behind your cup.

“Wait, really I thought you two were going to avoid each other forever.”

“Well I guess not. He said he was going there to pick up my coffee which was really sweet of him.”

“Oh he’s so into you,” Megan says sitting back in her chair. 

“No he’s not, why would you say that?”

“Think about it, he stops talking to you right after you start seeing Evan and out of nowhere he’s doing all of these nice things for you?” 

You stop and think about it, but there’s no way he told Elias that he could never see you that way. You brush it off and get on with your day. You didn’t have to shoot any content today so you didn’t see any of the guys during their practice, but Quinn was waiting for you after work to take you to go find your book.

You try not to think about what Megan said to you today, pushing it to the back of your mind. Once the two of you get to the bookstore you feel like a kid in a candy store showing Quinn all of the books you had on your reading list but haven’t gotten yet. Without you paying attention he grabbed a basket and started throwing them in there to pay for them himself.

He finally leads you up to the counter and insists on paying for all of the books he grabbed for you. You try to convince him that he didn’t need to but you were cut off by the clerk.

“Girl just let your cute boyfriend pay for your books. That’s what I would do.” You try to deny the accusation from this random teenager, but before you could they were announcing the total and Quinn was inserting his card. He grabbed the bag and walked you back out to the car.

“Sorry if what they said was weird, but just think of it as a payback for all of those coffees you got me,” Quinn said, trying to make you feel better.

“No it’s fine I think it’s kinda funny actually.” You say finally realizing you were there for several hours and were too tired to make dinner.

“I think I’m just going to order take-out for dinner if you want to keep hanging out at my place,” You say with a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Yeah that’d be great,” Quinn says as you start ordering. He stops at the restaurant while you run in to pick it up. He decides to text Elias and Brock an update and that he’ll tell them more later. 

The drive to your apartment was filled with playful banter about what you should watch and Quinn just watches you as the streetlights illuminate your face. The two of you finally arrive and settle on a new movie you just saw. It really didn’t take much convincing for him to give in; he just wanted to push your buttons a little bit.

Later, they are surrounded by take out tins and you’re starting to drift off. At some point during the movie your head ended up on Quinn’s shoulder and you started to doze off. Quinn wasn’t complaining, but felt like it was time for him to go as the credits started to roll.

“Hey Y/n/n wake up,” He says quietly as you groan and cuddle into him further. “Y/n/n you have to get up-the movie’s over.”

When there’s no sign of you moving he decides to just pick you up and bring you to your bed. Thinking you’re asleep he decides to give you a “friendly” kiss on your forehead and says goodnight. You feel the butterflies that you thought were now reserved for Evan coming back all over again. Quinn grabs the trash from the takeout and sees himself out, and can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. On his way home he decides to call Elias.

“Elias I’m in so deep I don’t know what to do,” Quinn says concerned because he doesn’t want to break you and Evan up and ruin something else for you.

“Wait what happened?” Elias asked confused because all Quinn had told him was that they were heading back to her place.

“I kissed her-” Quinn said before Elias cut him off.

“You what? You move fast, man.”

“Well I kind of kissed her. She fell asleep on my shoulder and wouldn’t move so I carried her back to her room and then I kissed her forehead. Now I’m going home,” Quinn says still with a deep smile on his face. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“I guess act like nothing happened. She was asleep right? Just leave it be for now and still hang out with her. I can talk to her and see what’s going on with Evan and then you can go from there.”

“Yeah good point thanks Elias, I’ll see you later.”

The next day you walk into work reminiscing last night with Quinn hoping you could relive it again soon. Silly crush aside, you missed your best friend and wanted things to go back to normal. 

Elias practically corners you just to ask questions about Quinn.

“Quinn told me you two hung out last night, so you aren’t ignoring him anymore?”

“I was never ignoring him I just was busy,” You say trying to move around him to get to his office.

“Yeah alright. Anyways, how is it going with Ethan?” Elias asks, teasing you.

“Evan is great. I think I might invite him to a game or something soon,” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Oh wait, really?” Elias asks as you start to walk away. “For the record I think that would be a great idea. Maybe next week against Winnipeg?”

“Yeah I’ll have to ask him. Now if you will excuse me I have to go to my desk.” You say finally walking away. 

You set your things down and open your computer and Megan starts questioning you about your evening with Quinn.

“It really wasn’t anything crazy. We just went to the bookstore where he bought all of them for me and then we went back to my place and got dinner,” You tell her leaving out the fact that he brought you to your bed and kissed you goodnight.

“The fact that he bought all of your books is enough to tell me that he’s into you. I know you had a long list you were slowly buying for yourself.” Megan may have set you up with Evan but she wasn’t blind to how much Quinn was into you and vice versa. 

“I’m thinking of inviting Evan to a game. What do you think?” You ask to change the subject.

“I think it would be a good idea if you weren’t afraid of what your work husband would do,” Megan says, teasing you.

“I- what are you talking about,” You ask, hiding your blush.

“Y/N you can pretend to be oblivious, but Quinn really likes you and you should think about his reaction to having your new boyfriend at a game.”

“Who even knows if Evan would want to go,” You say before locking in on your work for the day.

You had already made plans to go out with Evan later that night so you figured it would be the best time to ask him then. You go home and get ready for your date thinking about what Megan said to you earlier in the day. 

Soon enough you leave to go meet Evan at some new restaurant you would never pick out because it was too fancy for your taste. He greets you with a kiss to your cheek asking you how your day was.

“It was good I just had to deal with Megan and Elias berating me all day,” You say, aiming to leave the questions about Quinn out.

“Why would they do that?”

“Oh I was just thinking about inviting you to a game soon and they were just making fun of me,” You say sheepishly.

“That would be so cool! Would you be able to hang out with me or would it be like a wag situation where I just watch you do your magic,” Evan says with a chuckle as you start to look over the menu.

“I could probably get the night off and sit with you. Do you think you’d be free for the game next Saturday against the Jets?”

“Yeah that would be great! I’m looking forward to it!” He says closing his menu to signal he’s ready to order.

You continue to hang out with both Quinn and Evan, but choose not to tell Quinn about your invite for Evan to come to the upcoming game.

Saturday’s game finally rolls around and Quinn notices your absence during the warmups. You usually can be found on the bench shooting content but tonight it’s Megan in your place. 

“Hey Petey do you know where Y/N is tonight?” Quinn asks hoping Elias might have some insight.

“Yeah she’s in the crowd tonight with Evan,” Elias says pointing towards Y/N and Evan in their seats.

Quinn’s heart drops. You had mentioned that you were thinking about inviting Evan but didn’t think it would be so soon. He tries to forget that you brought your boyfriend to the game, but he can’t forget the fact that you’re wearing his jersey. He can’t help but feel a fire ignite when Evan leans in to say something to you. The sense of jealousy does not go away, but there is a sense of pride knowing his name is the one on your back.

You spot Quinn looking at the two of you and give a shy wave like you had been caught. Evan leaves to go grab some water and you are stuck worrying about what Quinn is thinking about you bringing Evan. 

Honestly since you started hanging out with Quinn again you just felt like your heart wasn’t in it with Evan anymore. You were planning on ending it but he kept talking about how excited he was for the game, so You decided to wait until after to end it with him.

There were no goals by either team after the first period, but something about Quinn seemed off. He was checking the other team left and right and was obviously agitated. The crowd is electric even though the Canucks are down 3-2 half way through the third, but it doesn’t seem to help his mood.

Quinn continues to instigate against the Jets and eventually gets himself into a fight against some player who was aggravating him all night. It doesn’t last long, but enough to get himself a penalty. He looks even more upset than before watching over the play.

Y/N was worried for Quinn. He never was this short tempered and she couldn’t figure what made him that upset. Evan can feel the nerves radiating off of her and rubs her shoulder to try and calm her, but he can’t help but feel like he is the last thing she needs right now.

“Hey Y/N I hate to do this here but I think we should probably end this,” Evan says and you finally take your eyes off Quinn. There is nothing you can do but sigh.

“Evan I’m so sorry I really wish I could’ve been better for you.”

“No it’s ok we had a great time and I’m happy being your friend I just think you have feelings for someone else,” Evan says with little to no hurt in his voice.

“Yeah I would love to still be your friend,” You say with a small smile as he gets up to leave.

Quinn sees Evan get up, but he just assumes that Evan is getting you something from the concessions. He realizes he needs to stop focusing on your date tonight and lock in for the rest of the game.

Unfortunately the Canucks lose 4-2 and Quinn looks like a kicked puppy, but luckily he isn’t assigned to interviews so he can just clean up and get ready to head home. He hopes he can just forget this night, especially seeing you with Evan. 

Little does he know that you’re already waiting for him in the hallway all but pacing the area hoping he’s not too upset to talk to you. Quinn keeps his head down not wanting to see all of the sweet reunions of the couples and families until he hears you call his name. 

He almost doesn’t want to stop worrying Evan would be with you, but you ran up to him to get his attention. Quinn turns around surprised to see you alone with a worried look on your face.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice laced with annoyance. His comment leaves a sting in your chest.

“Um we actually ended it, but I just came to see how you were doing. I was really worried about you. I've never seen you so upset,” You say with worry lacing your voice.

“Well thanks for checking on me but - wait you ended it with Evan?” Quinn asks, lighting back up.

“Yeah we were better off as friends. I honestly wanted to end it a while ago because I kind of have feelings for someone else, but he was really looking forward to the game,” You say rubbing your arm hoping he might start catching on.

“Oh?” Quinn says with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but still guarded in case it is someone else.

“Yeah he’s some goofball who was stupid and got himself a penalty tonight,” You say, stepping closer to Quinn.

“Well hopefully he can get that under control for the rest of the season, I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with someone spending time in a box the whole game,” Quinn says with a smirk and leaning in.

You decided to close the gap and the kiss was all you had ever hoped for. There was a mix of fireworks and something that just felt like home as he grabbed your sides to pull you in closer. Neither of you wanted this feeling to end, but unfortunately you had to come back up for air. 

Quinn has the slightest pink tinge and smile on his face as he pulls back far enough to scan your face for any regrets.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” He says.

“Finally!” Elias says as he rounds the corner to see the two of you still wrapped up in each other's arms.

“I never thought he would make a move,” Elias adds as Quinn tries to hide in your neck.

“Well maybe we should get out of here and talk a little bit,” You suggest and Quinn excitedly nods, grabbing your hand to lead you out.

The two of you get into his car and you leave the arena stealing kisses from each other at stop lights and looking forward to your future together.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey imagine #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks #hughes brothers #quinn hughes #elias pettersson

[songsbygumi]

Don’t sit down ‘cause I moved your chair

| Megumi x reader

Summary- "Expect the unexpected; Kugisaki and Panda are on a mission to get Megumi and you together. The two times, Nobara and Panda set you two up, and the one time they didn't need to do it."

Warnings - reader use a skirt, use of Y/N one time, poor english, one mention of the pronoun her I think its just once I can change it tho.

A/N- This is part of the universe of 'Suck It and See' inspired by Arctic Monkeys' album and Alex Turner's 'Submarine' EP.

Panda didn’t mean to snoop on Maki. I mean, come on, he was just chilling in the classroom waiting for the class to start when Maki barged in, shouting something like, “At this point, we should lock her with Fushiguro in a closet and hope she makes a move.” It took Panda less than five seconds to figure out that the 'her' Maki was talking about was you. He watched Maki leave the room, still clueless about his presence, chatting away with who he thought was Yuta on the phone.

Panda didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but now that he knows, he has to tell Kugisaki, right?

“I think Y/n likes Fushiguro,” Kugisaki eyes widening as she connected the dots in her head. Everything suddenly made sense: how you get all flustered around him, how you always save him the last juice he loves at breakfast and give it to Inumaki to put it in Fushiguro's usual spot, how your face slightly drops when he mentions the date he had with the girl from the coffee shop, your eyes going soft when he talks, and Maki always trying to pair you two up for training. “I think they'd be a great match,” Panda adds, and they both grinned.

I

You have been waiting for an hour now outside the cinema. Fantastic Beasts is about to start, and Panda isn’t responding to his phone. You were supposed to meet here after spending your day at the shopping center.

“Hey Panda, I am at the entrance. The movie starts in fifteen minutes; you should hurry.” This is the fifth voice message you have left him. With a sigh, you turn your head to the street to see if you can catch him making his way to the theater, and that’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” you froze. It couldn’t be. You turned to face him. “Hi,” you blurted out, realizing Megumi Fushiguro stood before you, looking as gorgeous as always, his school uniform replaced by jeans and a hoodie. “Panda told me to let you know he couldn’t make it, but we can still go in if you want,” he offered.

You nodded following him inside, feeling like a little kid. “Ye...ah, cool, fuck Panda” you muttered behind him.

Did Panda invite him without telling you? Does Panda know about you liking him? You couldn’t say for sure.

“I didn’t know you were into Harry Potter,” he remarked, waiting for you. “Yeah... I’m kinda obsessed,” you admitted, blushing a bit, earning a chuckle from Megumi. “I'm kinda obsessed too,” he revealed, grabbing the tickets. You smiled, appreciating his easygoing vibe.

“I’m paying you, just let me know how much I owe you,” you say as the employee hands him the tickets.

“Don’t worry, Gojo sensei gave me enough to buy this whole place,” he says, brushing it off. “Do you want something to eat?”

“Yeah, uhm sure,” you said, swallowing hard, gathering the courage to keep talking.

“You like Harry Potter too, movies or books?” you wonder, not daring to look at his eyes.

His smile made your heart skip a beat. “Are you kidding? Books, of course,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but smile proudly. “Which book is your favorite?”

After a moment of thinking it, he responded, “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.”

“Incorrect” you said playfully, grabbing the popcorn and moving away. “What do you mean incorrect?” he asked, looking amused. “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is right there” you argued, making him laugh.

You held the popcorn a bit too tightly, struggling to focus on the movie. You knew you were doing a bad job because by the end of it, you couldn’t remember a single thing besides Megumi's profile in the light.

As you walked back to school, chatting and feeling more comfortable, you found yourself agreeing with every single opinion of Megumi, encourage him to keep talking about it just because you didn’t have a single clue about what happened; you’ll have to see it again.

Later in your bed, you can’t help but think that maybe talking to Megumi Fushiguro wouldn’t be as difficult as you thought. Maybe you should keep doing it because talking with him was better than just staring at him from afar.

II

"Maybe you two should go together," Kugisaki suggested, smiling at her idea. Maki raised an eyebrow as she looked at you “It’s fine,” you said aloud. “I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t mind, of course, if you want, Fushiguro?”

Panda managed to hide a satisfied smile from you, but Maki's suspicious look caught him. “Sure thing, I’m down for it. It'd be nice not to deal with a crybaby while hunting for books." he remarked mockingly. “I’m not a cry baby!” Kugisaki protested, and you chuckled at the argument unfolding in front of you.

The library turned out to be smaller than expected, but your eyes lit up at the sight of shelves filled to the brim with books. The soft lighting and the background music of an Arctic Monkeys song made the atmosphere cozy; you could move here in a heartbeat.

“You weren’t lying when you said it was pretty,” you commented, turning to see Megumi standing casually, hands in his pockets, shrugging with a smile. He had a smile that could melt hearts. God, someone needs to make him stop smiling like that at you; he’ll kill you one of these days.

“You haven’t seen the best part” he said, taking your hand and leading you upstairs, making your heart race.

The second floor was packed with even more books, stacked everywhere, and inviting chairs that looked perfect for long reading sessions. It was like stepping into a book lover's dream. “This is amazing,” you whispered, caught up in the moment. Megumi wore a proud smile, happy to share this hidden gem with someone who appreciated it as much as he did. He kept holding your hand for a moment longer, feeling a warmth spread in his chest, before letting go, leaving the pleasant sensation behind.

“Oh my god, look at this Pride and Prejudice edition,” you said, admiring the gold engravings on the cover. “Oh, is that Heartstoppers?” you exclaimed, passing the book you previously held to Megumi.

"If you asked Kugisaki or Panda, they’d say they had never seen Fushiguro smile so much before. He was admiring you from behind, helping you hold the books you picked and reaching the higher manga shelves without complaining. "Looks like it’s going well.” Panda said a bit too loudly, breaking the calm atmosphere. Fushiguro's head turned, and they held the books they were 'reading' higher to cover their faces. “Shut up,” Kugisaki scolded him.

You didn’t notice, too busy looking at all the books, but seriously, did they think Fushiguro Megumi was that stupid to not notice Panda? Whatever they were planning, he will make them spill it, but for now, he had to hold your books.

“Look, that’s one of my favorites,” he pointed with his head at The Song of Achilles, getting into your little bubble again. You took it without questioning him or the book, adding it to the pile.

III

You’ve been craving Matcha for a week now, and you’ve been begging Maki to accompany you to the coffee shop for days. and still every time she answers with "Not all of us are first-grade sorcerers, and yet you still need to practice for the exchange event, which is literally tomorrow."

She’s been relentless; dragging you out for early morning runs at five in the morning so you can practice your hand-to-hand combat skills before seven, insisting, “Your curse technique outperforms at long distance, but what if they get up close? You need to be ready.”

Despite your intense training, all you wanted was a relaxed afternoon sipping on a cold Matcha. Yuta would have easily convinced Maki, you thought, missing your best friend dearly.

“What’s with the long face?” Kugisaki interjected, sitting next to you on the benches, watching Maki kick Panda's butt. “Nobody wants to get Matcha with me,” you pouted. Kugisaki’s brain starts working, but before she can offer to go with you, a male voice interrupts, “I'll go with you,” Fushiguro beats her to it.

"Really? You don't have to," you replied.

“Nonsense, we're friends, right? I enjoy spending time with you; you're better company than all these clowns,” he says, and you barely caught the rest after "friends."

Okay, that hurt a little. Your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts as you studied Megumi's expression. Of course, he doesn’t see you as more than a friend; he's so cool, and you're... well, just you. Why is he staring? Why is no one talking? Oh yeah, right, “Sorry, yes, we are. So, see you at five at the entrance?” you blurted out, snatching your backpack filled with clothes and some of Maki's weapons before rushing off, "Bye."

...

“What if I don’t go?” you contemplated twenty minutes before your scheduled friends date with Fushiguro.

“He didn’t do anything wrong. How is he supposed to know you want more than friendship?” Maki questioned, resting on your bed.

"Whose side are you on?" you retorted.

"Yours, but let's be real, you're being a tad irrational. Slip on the blue skirt and just go."

Megumi Fushiguro wasn't quite sure why he arrived early, but he felt an inexplicable urge to see you sooner; waiting longer was out of the question. And it was worth it, seeing you in that blue mini skirt and oversized sweater, a shy smile gracing your face as you spotted him. You looked even cuter than usual, he considered.

“Ready?" he questioned.

"Yeah, let's go," you affirmed, beginning to walk alongside him towards the coffee shop.

The café bustled with activity; it seemed like everyone had the same Matcha cravings as you did. Navigating through the crowd to reach the cashier proved challenging, but you preferred the subtle movements over pushing people or raising your voice to get through.

You were focus on not inconveniencing anyone when two hands settled comfortably on your waist, guiding you forward and providing a shield against the bustling bodies.

You held your breath; even through the layers of your sweater, you could feel the warmth emanating from Megumi’s hands. Finally reaching the cashier, he removed one hand, leaving the other on your lower back. "Hey there, what can I get you?" the cashier's words snap you back to reality.

“Uhm...” damn it, did you forget how to talk?

"One Matcha latte and one black coffee to go, please" Megumi says watching you struggling.

"Sure thing, regular milk?" you shook your head in disagreement. "Almond milk, please," you requested. The cashier nodded, and before Megumi could reach his wallet, you’ve already paid.

“That’s not fair,” he complains; you had to get your eyes checked because you thought you saw him pout.

“It’s fine, don’t worry; you always pay” you reassured him, moving towards the other end of the counter, Megumi's hand still lingering on your back.

"Hey, Megumi," a girl called out from the opposite side of the counter. She was strikingly pretty, flashing a wide smile at Megumi, her attention fully captivated by him until she noticed you a moment later. "Oh, sorry, hi," she acknowledged you, then shifted her gaze back to Megumi, noting his proximity to you, and her smile faltered slightly.

"Hey, Katsuki" he greeted back.

"You haven’t been around lately as usual" Katsuki remarked.

“Yeah, been busy with school stuff," he explained, his free hand casually brushing his neck.

"You haven’t replied to my texts either" you felt like an intruder in a conversation you shouldn’t be in.

“Sorry, it has been crazy lately,” he apologizes. Another employee calls for your names, and you swiftly grabbed your drinks, offering him his coffee.

"I'll wait outside if you need a moment," you informed him.

"No, it’s fine," he says to you, moving his hand to find yours. "Sorry, Katsuki, I swear I’ll text you back tonight. Take care," he says, guiding you through the crowd.

Outside the café, silence lingered for a moment. "A bit overwhelming with the crowd for you, huh? Feeling overstimulated?" he teases, smiling, to which you nodded. "Let’s go, I know a spot you'll love." He took your hand again, and a surge of electricity seemed to buzz between your palms. If he felt it, he didn’t mention it.

It had been week’s full of mixed emotions; you had countless questions swirling in your mind, but for now, you chose to give in the comforting and welcoming presence of Megumi Fushiguro.

#Suck it and see series #moonswrites #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #reader x jjk #jjk drabbles #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi fushiguro #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi #jujutsu megumi #megumi fluff #fushiguro

[diorsluv]

feather , the drama queen

“ i say she’s too dramatic ”

series m. list

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by lhughes_06, missseraphina and 310,937 others

yourusername photo dump time 🗣️🗣️

guess who ran into connor bedard at the family function 😱 he was looking at me weird n shit cuz me and mark were cosplaying as rapunzel and flynn rider

also i love taking screenshots of my bf and his goofy brothers when they look stupid!

tagged: lhughes_06, markestapa, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, masonmctavish23, _connorbedard

view all comments

jamie.drysdale where did you find that pic of us.

→ yourusername use ur common sense

→ trevorzegras this feels like a violation

→ yourusername it is! ☺️

_connorbedard i was looking at you weird because you are weird.

→ yourusername awww cmon ur no fun 😔 we all know im ur favorite relative

→ _connorbedard we’re not related.

→ jamie.drysdale oh my god not even your cousin loves you yourusername

→ yourusername SHUT UP JAMIE

→ _connorbedard WE’RE. NOT. COUSINS?????

→ trevorzegras breaking news!!! bedsy and jamie are related 😱😱

→ _connorbedard my finger is hovering over the block button

username44 funny that she posts this RIGHT NOW..

→ username10 they all have her blocked they don’t know anything

trevorzegras WHEN THERES SOMETHING STRANGE

→ yourusername IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

→ _quinnhughes aw that sounds just like the two of you

→ luca.fantilli WHO YOU GONNA CALL

→ rutgermcgroarty GHOSTBUSTERS!

→ adamfantilli 👻👻👻

→ yourusername quinn YOU’RE the strange looking thing in the neighborhood 🤬 _quinnhughes

→ jackhughes flashbacks to when that little kid got scared when he opened the door

→ _quinnhughes oh my god I WAS WEARING A COSTUME

username79 did anyone else notice who liked the post…

→ username3 good lord she’s back

luca.fantilli it seems war is NOT over 😔

→ yourusername ????

→ dylanduke25 luca i thought you had her blocked smh

→ luca.fantilli how’d you know who i was talking about unless you didn’t have her blocked either???

→ yourusername …

_quinnhughes everyone’s gonna start calling me depressed now 😐

→ yourusername sweetie they’ve been calling you depressed keep up

→ _quinnhughes 😨

→ jackhughes 😱

→ lhughes_06 🤯

dylanduke25 let’s give me the credit for that costume idea!

→ yourusername you told me to dress up as mother gothel.

→ dylanduke25 out of love 🤗

→ markestapa YOU TOLD ME TO DRESS LIKE THE FUCKING HORSE.

→ lhughes_06 HEY MAXIMUS IS A GREAT CHARACTER

edwards.73 why is mark at the family function 🤨

→ yourusername his mama wanted to come 😈

→ markestapa that’s a lie she forced me to come because i was the only one willing to dress up as flynn rider for her

→ edwards.73 …why are you dressing up in costumes at the family function?????

→ yourusername THE KIDS ALWAYS DO A LITTLE COSTUME PLAY CONTEST THING

→ jamie.drysdale she made me dress up as the lorax when we were in middle school

→ yourusername stop complaining i was literally mr o’hare

→ jamie.drysdale AND THEN YOU MADE ME LORD FARQUAD THE YEAR AFTER THAT

→ yourusername 🙄🙄

→ trevorzegras pics or it didn’t happen.

lhughes_06 you really snuck that cute ass pic of you thinking we wouldn’t notice

→ yourusername ew i hate you

→ lhughes_06 you love me

→ yourusername 🙄

→ lhughes_06 say it ☹️

→ yourusername 🥱

→ jackhughes PLEASE JUST SAY IT ALREADY I CANT STAND HIS WHINING

→ yourusername no can do jacky boy 😓

→ lhughes_06 you little shit

→ yourusername luv u too 😒😒

username10 connor looks so done

username98 quinn has never had a good pic of himself posted by any of his friends 💀

mackie.samo I COULDVE BEEN FLYNN RIDER WHY DIDNT U ASK ME

→ yourusername i asked mark first 😓

→ markestapa HAH take that

colecaufield i took that second photo 😒

→ yourusername our lovely backup photographer 🫶🫶

→ lhughes_06 your quality is kinda ass

→ colecaufield BRO i took it on your phone???

missseraphina

liked by yourusername and 202 others

missseraphina i know you miss me, bc why else would you have texted me last night? 🥰

view all comments

username24 oh babe.. that’s not…..

username8 girly this is a bit obsessive don’t you think? 😭

username61 he’s taken. TAKEN.

username82 yesss girl get your man back!!

→ username40 …as in the one that’s in a relationship rn??

username77 sweetie just find someone else already

username95 I THOUGHT THEY ALL BLOCKED HER but lil drizz just liked the post what

→ yourusername it gave me a good laugh what can i say

username43 they’re making an absolute mockery out of her

username20 LMFAOOO

username18 don’t tell me she’s still going on with ts 😭😭

username55 but let’s think about it.. she wouldn’t have posted this unless he actually texted her

username39 it’s bc he still wants u 😝😝

→ username14 i KNOW you’re not talking about luke hughes 💀

yourusername

liked by adamfantilli, jamie.drysdale, dylanduke25, and 347,252 others

yourusername oh girl you’re obsessed 🥱

view all comments

username90 HELL YEAH we’re back on the drama train

jamie.drysdale i thought i told you to block her 😑

→ yourusername I DID but then all my friends were telling me abt the shit she was posting and i couldn’t resist 😞😞

mackie.samo you’re so petty

→ yourusername aw cmon mack you know you love my pettiness 🤗🤗

→ mackie.samo uh huh i definitely do

→ markestapa bro ur literally pettier than she is

→ mackie.samo give me ONE good example

→ markestapa you blocked me for a week because i said your hair looks like a rat lives in it 😐

→ mackie.samo thanks for the reminder im blocking you again

username10 babe ur feeding into the drama 😭

→ yourusername i know 😈

username34 WHEN SHE PLAYS MULTIPLE INSTRUMENTSSSSS

username28 our multi-talented queen!!

adamfantilli will we ever be done with the couple-y shit 😒

→ yourusername when she’s done obsessing over my man 🫶

→ lhughes_06 what’s that heart for yourusername

→ edwards.73 you’re so possesive luke get over yourself 🙄🙄

→ adamfantilli FR

→ markestapa FR

→ luca.fantilli FR

→ jackhughes FR

→ rutgermcgroarty FR

→ _alexturcotte FR

→ _quinnhughes FR

→ trevorzegras FR

→ dylanduke25 FR

→ jamie.drysdale FR

→ colecaufield FR

→ mackie.samo FR

→ yourusername not again 😭

username88 is she ever gonna go away

luca.fantilli but when you think about it.. luke probably DID text her to provoke that post

→ yourusername LMFAO he would neverrrrr right? lhughes_06

→ lhughes_06 um

→ lhughes_06 i don’t wanna lie to you

→ yourusername oh

→ luca.fantilli oh shit 🤯

→ jamie.drysdale what.

→ markestapa DUDE I THOUGHT YOU BLOCKED HER lhughes_06

→ edwards.73 there’s no fucking way

→ _quinnhughes …

username20 goddamn what happened under luca’s comment 😭😭

username24 holy shit there’s no way luke actually texted her again

username80 oh my god???

notes ) cliffhanger 🙊🙊 yes we’re back but not really (?) this one’s been sitting in the drafts for a while so.. i hope it’s fairly adequate LMAOO

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys @loveforaugust @cstads-blog @h0e4fictionalme-n @bunting58

#luke hughes #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes fic #quinn hughes #jack hughes #cole caufield #alex turcotte #trevor zegras #jamie drysdale #rutger mcgroarty #adam fantilli #luca fantilli #ethan edwards #mark estapa #dylan duke #mackie samoskevich

[wildandsmile]

commission idea🤌 vampire blue lock au characters like rin/sae/kuni/nagi etc and for kinks maybe like pinning/degrading ykwim i have a thing for neck biting hense why i love vampire au so much

Rian,Sae,Kuni,Nagi. Bllk boy when you tell them it’s ok to bite you

Total Wc. 1.1k

Warning. Oral F receiving, fingering, biting, choking, teasing, degrading breeding, riding, jealousy , sweet aftercare

An. This is my first time writing for vampires so...... yeah

Rin

He loses his mind, asking you a hundred times if you're sure about it, over and over again.

But once you reassure him, you're done for; he seizes every chance to take a bite out of you he can.

There's something about the way your blood tastes that sends his undead body boiling.

Oh, and he's a sucker for bloody kisses, the taste of your lips on his while your blood still lingers on the tip of his tongue, it turns him on like nothing else could.

And don’t even get him started on you guys are having sex he loves to feel you ride him while his fang are deep in your neck

You gasped out slowly, "Rin no more, pls I can’t take anyone ." As tears streamed down your eyes, and you couldn't grasp how long you'd been at it or how much blood you'd lost. All you knew was that weren’t leaving this room anytime soon."Come on, princess, be good for me, just one taste, please," he pleaded, not giving you any time to reply before sinking his teeth deep into your skin, watching as the blood rained down your neck."Fuck you taste so delicious and you feel even better," he groans as he rolls his hips, attempting to force yet another sweet orgasm from your already flowing cunt. He eventually lets go of your neck, but not before licking a long hot lap across your neck and pulling you into a deep kiss. It felt good, and the irony only added to your excitement as Rin began to thrust deeply into you. "Come on now princess, let me treat you real good for giving me such a great meal."

Sae

He's nothing like his brother; when you mention he could bite you, he's all in, almost immediately.

You even had to set a limit on how many times a day he could drink from you, fearing he'd drain you dry.

But oh, the teasing—he adores it, especially when he hears that little moan escape your lips. And after how wet you get just for his fangs

He LOVES going down on you and nibbling on your thighs; the taste of your blood and slick combined makes his head spin.

He's a HUGE aftercare guy, coming back with bandages, snacks, the whole shebang.

"Come on, slut, you can do better than that," he says into your already swollen cunt, sliding his tongue across your sloppy folds. You tried to pull away, but he pushed you hard into the mattress, keeping you in place so he could plunge his fingers deep within you and curl them in just the right position. "Fuck look at pet look at you getting our sheets dirty for me" he says as he begins to rub himself through his clothes. "Don't you think I deserve a reward, pet?" he asked as he itch the tip of your sweet spot, forcing you to melt in his hands and moan loudly.That must have been his answer because soon enough he’s licking long hot strips across your thigh before sinking his fang deep into your skin licking up all the blood that trickles down making sure not to waste a drop.“ You’re so addictive pet, but I think it’s time to give you what you want, ” he said as he wiped the blood off his face and licked it off his fingers. “I’m going to have to cancel my schedule cause we’re not leaving this room until you covered in my bite marks.”

Kunigami (Wild Card)

• Right then and there, he takes you up on that offer, no matter where you are.

• Throughout the entire encounter, he's a big bully, teasing and touching you, yet not allowing you to reciprocate.

• He revels in seeing you in that vulnerable state when he drinks your blood, something about your clinging to him that ignites him.

• His possessiveness leads him to bite you in places where there's no way to hide the marks.

• Despite his bullying nature and slight transformation, he still retains the same caring demeanor, as evidenced by your favorite food waiting on the table the next day with a note that reads, "Make sure to rest well today, doll."

"Didn't I tell you not to touch doll face?" he says, slapping your ass hard. "Only good girls get what they want," he says, and you whimper an apology before turning your face away so he doesn't see the fire burning your cheeks. But it doesn't last long as Kuni slides his hands up your skirt and rubs tight circles on your clit, feeling how wonderful and puffy you can become with just a few touches."You really are a dirty slut doll face is that why you covered up your bite mark cause you didn't want the world to know what a dirty girl you really were huh” he says as he peels the bandages off your neck, revealing all the bite marks you worked so hard to hide. "I worked so hard to paint this pretty neck like my canvas, and you cover it up," he says as he wraps his hands around your throat, hooking your panties to the side and sliding to figure in rolling them until you buck into him. In that instant, he sinks his fangs deep into your collar bone. "Guess I'll just have to cover all of you in my bite marks so you can't hide them again."

Nagi

Is lazy he just waves it off when you tell him and goes back to his video game

• However, should he catch you talking to another guy, especially another vampire, his demeanor takes a different turn.

• He's typically gentle about things, so don't expect too much until he's angered.

• When he does get upset, he becomes more animalistic, perhaps even draining you completely.

• Yet, he always apologizes the next day, showering you with the princess treatment, whether it's playing his game together or enjoying a nap side by side.

"Who the hell was that love?" Nagi asks, his eyes shining a venomous glow. You don't say anything because you know it will only add fuel to the fire, and that's how you end up locked in a mating press as Nagi buries his cock deep inside you kiss up to your cervix and his fangs even deeper into your skin drain you of what little you have. You couldn't tell if you were seeing stars because he pulled so many orgasms out of you or because of the blood loss."You’re mine, mine, mine," he says as he pushes your leg deeper into your chest and does a long lap across your leg before biting you and watching the blood trail down your leg. "You're mine, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it, even if I have to bite and knock you up to do so."

#x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #anime smut #bllk smut #praise #blue lock smut #anime #rin itoshi smut #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #sae itoshi smut #kunigami rensuke #kunigmai rensuke smut #nagi seishiro #nagi smut #vampire #vampire au #request #blue lock #wild cards #tips #fanfic commissions #commission #wirters on tumblr #angst #fanfic fluff #aftercare #so hot 🔥🔥🔥

[pupcuck]

black water - one !

ft. og4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. cop!leon, corruption, mentions of harassment/rape/drugs, body horror, raccoon city incident never happened but there r bioweapons, suicide ideation bc leon, character death, there’s smut in later chapters i promise, public sex, creampie, hate sex, slapping, choking, gore descriptions

note. hi trying something new! i know raccoon city is in the midwest somewhere but to be frank idgaf ab the usa and know nothing about any part of it so i decided that it’s a southern state in this fic bc i wanted to make reader have the cute accent bc she’s a farmer :3 only the first chapter so like um this is honestly just more of a test to see if anyone would like this erm smut comes soon prommy.. reader implied poc but like um :3 PLEASE GIMME FEEDBACK N IGNORE MISTAKES!!

summary. there is something in the water, you want it gone before it eats more than just your livelihood.

You know pigs, so you know men.

This one has blue eyes, it is the type of blue you’d dip your toes into, you let the waves lap at your calves until it drags you under. His gaze taps a gun to the back of your head and demands full attention.

He is subjecting you to himself, and you hate it.

The glint of his blue-gold badge is nebulous in the dark. “Officer Leon S. Kennedy.” He offers you a look at his ID card - has the sort of face that lets him get away with things. “Criminal Investigations Department.”

Beside him, a dog with intelligent eyes stands sentinel. Officer Kennedy drops the leash and the dog sits back on its haunches. “Now, what’s this about pigs?”

The RPD is one great big circle jerk. Brian Iron’s doctrine is an easy one to follow, and Leon is not opposed to easy. His innards spill into the middle of it all as the lump in his throat dislodges, adding to the slurry of toxic waste that coats their blackened underbelly.

There is a horrible liminal quality to the place, footfall echoes in halls lit by jaundiced bulbs. The scent of sex is a wisp of smoke in his nose as he passes the chief’s office.

Raccoon City is a backwater bog, and to match the inhabitants are insular primitive beings who cling to antiquated ways. To be stationed here by choice was a lapse in judgement - snark is the currency of social interaction.

Leon is often taken by women.

He met this one back in Brooklyn, where he and his family lived above a Deli, an older southern lady with a gap in her teeth. Had the pleasure of crossing her path—Something about her just stuck. Led him to believe that all women round these parts had big hearts and even bigger bosoms. A place to rest his head for the night, a neck to hide his face in, blonde curls just shy of silver to tickle his skin flower-pink.

She talked all like:

Well, ain’t you just the sweetest peach I’ve ever seen! Oh, I could just eat a feller like you up, get me full as a tick.

Whatever it was that she said and meant, he liked it. And so guided by the expertise of his dick, Leon landed himself here.

There are a handful of beautiful women that Leon has seen, met, fucked.

(He weeded out the ugly ones the moment he was given access to the file room.)

The thing is, small town beautiful is different to New York pretty.

He has an ex over in Manhattan who could turn the sidewalk into a catwalk. She had Leon, a man built like a god, fumbling like a teenage girl. The last girl he fucked here was homely - she had the hushed urgency of a military wife and her monotony was sobering.

One girl he dated on and off for a year or two. She worked at a car wash and she was needy. Real needy. She missed the taste of his dick so he provided her with the scent of pussy instead. Every weekend he’d drive over and watch her clean the sex from the backseat of his cruiser just because he could.

Things are slow in this marshy cesspit, a never-ending conveyer belt of nothing much. The wind carries the scent of magnolia blossoms and sewage. It gives Leon a lot of time to think of the filth that is his underfurnished life. He lowers his head to the desk, allowing himself to fall in and out of spasms of lucidity.

Leon has done bad things, but he doesn’t qualify as a bad guy. The badge and the blue forbids it. Take Redfield for example, that guy got deployed in Penamstan. Y’know what happened there? He shot a kid or two and now he can’t get it up. He’s not a bad guy, not at all, he’s got a photo of his smiling face plastered in the lobby.

He’s a hero.

The only problem folks have with him is that heroes have nice, hard cocks and they fuck for hours. No matter his sex drive atrophied by gore splattered on the barrel of his gun, or how the studded underside of his boot caused flesh to crumple like the newspaper with his name on it—It doesn’t matter. To be built like a brick shithouse and have something soft between your legs, well, that just ain’t right, is it?

Over in Penamstan, he would say, you introduce yourself over the sound of gunfire, shake hands as the earth is split in half, kill an orphan to bond.

A good man for sure. So good his little sister went ghost.

(Leon finds her postcards in the mailroom. For Redfield’s sake, he hides them in the bottom drawer of his desk alongside all sorts of ephemera. He’s acquired quite the stash.)

Valentine is alright. She’s quiet. The moral fibre has been plucked out of her with a pair of forceps, and now she doesn’t think much about where she points her gun. They often sit in shared silence, and sometimes it is like looking in a funhouse mirror that creates a shape far slinkier than his bulk.

Chambers is too nice. Vickers is fat. Burton is old. Frost is ugly. These are all irrefutable flaws, but none of them are bad, and none of it is intentional. Not bad by Leon’s standards at least.

(The entirety of the STARS unit would be better off if they stopped kissing Captain Wesker’s flat ass, but that is like asking for sympathy from the devil.)

Man, he has too much time on his hands.

“Kennedy, you busy?” Rita knocks on his desk. The fabric of her shirt creases inwards to grasp the dip of her waist as she places a hand on her hip. She’s poised, but something about her gait is wobbly.

“Mighty busy.” He nods.

What they have is not history, but something much smaller. It is a word blotted out on a torn page from a burnt book, it is ground into powder by mortar and pestle.

It is Leon’s hand in her back pocket when nobody’s around.

“I’m sure.” She straightens her spine, eyes heavy with the weight of her lashes. “Up in Black Water, something about a dead pig.”

“They have gators,” Leon points out. He may be bored to the point of suicide, but he is not in the mood to wrangle any gators.

“I know,” she says, lifting her eyes from the ground to meet his sidelong gaze, “go check it out, she sounded real spooked, take a dog if you have to.”

She, huh.

Wonder what she looks like. He hopes she has big tits. He hopes she isn’t a cousin-fucking, peat-smelling hick.

Black Water has a lot of those.

“Took ya long enough.” Your voice skims the air like a bullet, it strikes Leon in the chest.

You are she. And you, well—You’re both the needle and the spoon.

Doused in the lantern glow, the egg-whites of your eyes are streaked by small, bloody streams, your mac is zipped up to the chin, and your rainboots are the same colour of boxed rubber duckies.

You’re no sole-crushed peach, making the ground its canvas in a pitiful splatter, you’re a tart cherry that he would like to pick, melt into a glaze and store in a jar.

“Oh, we’re mighty busy.” Leon wipes Rita’s wet from his fingers on the front of his tailored pants, it’s gotten sticky like pomade. He thinks of her tailbone digging into the flesh of his stomach as he sits her on his lap.

“I bet.” You raise your brows. “How many lines did’ja do?”

Leon leans forward to watch your face with unblinking eyes. “Don’t say that too loud, Wesker’s gonna get worried, y’know, start digging through his stash.”

“Hah.” Your laugh is hidden into the collar of your mac. “He seems like the type.”

“You met him before?” An unpleasant squelch is heard when he steps where you do, it seems deliberate for a moment, that you’re avoiding a well-trodden path to give him a hard time. He stumbles forward in the dark—His shoes are fucked, and these socks deserve a funeral service.

“Think we all have.” Your body is lost in the shapelessness of your attire, clothes draped over your frame like you are more hanger than human. Effortless femininity lost to androgyny. “You’re not from these parts.”

“You don’t look like you’re from these parts, pumpkin pie,” he mocks your twang and is met with a tut.

You stop and Leon bumps into you with a grunt.

He shines his torch at the ground and isn’t quite sure of what he’s looking at. “That’s a pig alright.”

#leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy angst #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy angst #resident evil angst #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

[drjholtzmann]

this is dreamling more than dead boy detectives but it's been in my head since reading issue #25 after s1 of sandman. so, now feels like a good time to release it into the world. i just want them all to get in each others way

(season of mists spoilers)

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

It’s not often that Hob smokes. It’s an expensive habit, and secondhand smoke and all that. But it’s hardly going to kill him, so he’s usually got an ancient pack on hand somewhere. Handy, especially in situations like this. Not that there’s ever been a situation like this before but, well. You live long enough. 

He slips out into the beer garden of the pub, lighting up almost absent mindedly, the action still muscle memory. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters, rubbing his thumb along his lower lip, “what the fuck. Dream, if you have bloody anything to do with this, I swear to god, Morpheus. What the fucking fuck.” He closes his eyes, lets his head fall back against the brickwork. Despite it all he huffs an exhausted laugh. Because sure. Of course. Yeah, why not. Of course this would happen. “Jesus Christ, Morpheus. Even if this isn’t you, bloody… fucking wish I could just ask.” It’s all said barely above a whisper. Just in case. Always just in case. He blindly ashes his cigarette and heaves out a heavy breath, “Lord above,” he scoffs, raising the cigarette to his lips again. 

“Hob?”

Hob startles, eyes snapping open, head knocking back sharply against the brick. “Fuck – ow – Dream?” He raises his free hand to rub the back of his head, wincing slightly. “That, uh… that worked better than expected.” 

“You were calling for me?”

“Yeah… sorta. I didn’t… think it worked like that. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You did not. I had thought briefly of you.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Hob grins. “How come? You miss me already?”

Morpheus sends him a withering look. 

“I, um… dreamt of you. While ago. Was that – real?”

“It was.”

He nods, thumb nervously tapping the filter of his cigarette. “Uh huh. Figured. With the wine, and…” he trails off. The hollow feeling of that dream, or rather, of that waking coming back to him in full force. “You said some ominous shit. Then I said some ominous shit. Was that real, too?”

Morpheus nods solemnly. 

“Right. Don’t suppose you’ll explain that?” Morpheus remains silent. “Right. Course not. Things okay, though? Now? I mean,” he gestures to his friend, “you’re here. That must be good, yeah?”

“Yes. And no.”

“Great. Fab.”

“What I thought I was facing has… changed.”

“...’kay. Well, can I ask you a question?”

Morpheus pauses but, after a moment, nods.

“S’it got anything to do with the dead kids hanging out in my pub?”

“What?”

“Yeah, couple of boys who look like they should definitely be in school – about, oh, fifty years ago. At least.”

Morpheus’ eyes don’t actually widen in alarm, but there is something to that effect happening… not quite in his expression, but in his aura, perhaps. Hob gets the feeling that if he were a cat the fur along his spine would be standing on end. 

“So… it is related?” 

“Perhaps.”

“Definitely, then.” Hob takes a short puff of his cigarette. 

“Show me?” 

“Uh… I don’t know if they know that people can see them. I don’t know if people who aren’t me can see them, actually. So just, um…” the caution dies in his throat as he realises who it is he’s talking to. Morpheus will do what he will, Hob’s advice be damned. 

Dream draws close, peering in through the windowpane of the door back into the pub. “How do you know?”

“You get pretty good at feeling when things are off once you’ve been around the block six hundred years or so. Also, they walked in through the closed front door. As in, passed right through the solid wood and glass.”

“I see.”

“Why are they here?” 

“To sample your fine selection of craft beer, perhaps?”

“Oh, he’s joking,” Hob has joined his side in peering not-so-surreptitiously through the door. “‘Mortal plane’ here, not here-here.”

“Death must have been busy… It is not like her to leave a job unfinished without good reason.”

“Must’ve…? What the fuck could be so horrific that Death is being kept busy?”

Morpheus, beside him, is silent. Deadly still. And it tells Hob all he needs to know. 

“Dream,” he hisses, “what the fuck is this? What’s going on?”

There is a long pause. “I ought not to tell you.” Dream murmurs, still facing the glass panel of the door.

“And I ought not have two dead teenagers in my pub. All things relative.” 

“They are causing no harm.”

“I don’t doubt that. It’s you I’m worried about now.”

“Your concern is of no use. What I mean is that they are no poltergeists, not aggressive, there seems to be nothing demonic about them.”

“Which means… there are poltergeists and demons running about at the mo?”

“I told you, I ought not say. There are diplomatic proceedings to take place.”

“You get that that makes even less sense, yeah?”

Dream seems to, at last, with an almighty eye roll, give in. “Hell is closed,” he hisses, turning to face Hob directly. 

“Hell is closed.” Hob repeats back, dumbfounded. “And that means… The devils are all here?”

“Precisely.”

“But the boys… aren’t devils?”

“They are not.”

“Okay. That’s good news. And the devils?”

Dream shrugs, sharp and languid. “Anywhere. Everywhere.”

“Great. Okay. Less good. Very much less good. So, uh. What… do I do? Am I supposed to exorcise them? Because, I have to be honest – would really rather not do that.” 

“You are under no obligations.”

“Oh.” 

“They could not be here without Death’s knowledge or her say-so. She will come for them in time.”

“Oh.” Inexplicably, Hob’s heart sinks a little.

“They are not alive, Hob.” Dream says, looking him in the eye. “They cannot live forever as the dead.” 

“Hm. Yeah. S’pose.” He looks through the windowpane at the two boys, chatting animatedly at a corner table out of the way. “They’re just kids, though. Barely got a normal life.”

“You cannot save them, Hob.”

“Why not?”

“You cannot. They may not be destined for Hell, but that doesn’t mean they can stay amongst the living.” 

“Says who?”

“The universe. Death, herself.”

Hob smirks, tilting his head down a fraction to look up at Dream from under a quirked brow. “You know what I think of Death.”

And Hob catches the tension at the corner of Dream’s mouth that he knows, whatever he might say to the contrary, is a suppressed smile. 

“C’mon, what if I just help ‘em live a little? While they’re here?”

“Hob.”

“What?! Can’t a guy be nice?”

“I have meetings to attend to.”

“That’s not a no.” 

“I think it a poor choice to flaunt immortality in front of two who have died so young. I would caution against it.”

“Okay. Fuck, fair point. But they don’t have to know about me. They wouldn’t somehow know, right?”

“I would caution against it, Hob Gadling.”

#sandman #dreamling #dead boy detectives #sandman fanfic #my fic #hob gadling #dream of the endless #charles and edwin get a cameo lets say #im so excited for the show yall have no idea

[hollytoshaw]

hiii i know you havent posted in a while but if you are still taking requests would you do blurb or smau of harry and reader buying a new house maybe in guernsey or london and its just cute domestic vibes ? love your work :)

ahhh love this idea!!! i'm still taking requests just been a bit slow getting round to them all because i'm back at uni and have a load of work i need to do :( but hope you enjoy this little blurb!!! xx

home | harry lewis

summary: y/n and harry move in to their forever home

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mostly just a cutesy/fluff blurb but references to sex at the end

The day had finally come for Y/N and Harry. The day they were about to move into their new house. Sure, they had shared a quaint but homely London flat for the past five years, but now they were onto bigger things. Their first proper forever home. 

To say Harry was bricking it was an understatement. Of course, the pair had done their fair share of moving around, life tucked away in cardboard boxes, but this was the real deal—probably the last time they’d ever have to do this, and God, there was so much to do, and Harry felt completely hopeless. He’d spent the last half an hour trying to get the garage door to open, slapping the remote aimlessly with his hand to try and get it to work, and pulling his hair in defeat when it didn’t. It turns out he had been using the wrong remote the whole time, and instead of opening the garage door, he had been toying about with your house's light system, the lights inside the house flickering on and off as he sighed in frustration outside unknowingly. He was stressed, and Y/N was inside, thinking they had faulty electrics.. It was a great start. 

Another five minutes passed, and Harry had given up, deciding his car looked much better parked on the driveway anyway, and took it upon himself to unload some more boxes from the boot of his car. He walked up to the house, rummaging in his pockets for the house keys, cursing under his breath when he saw sight of that stupid remote that had caused him torture for the last few minutes—he'd have chucked it in the bin at this rate, but knew Y/N would give him a telling-off for being so silly. Shoving the key in the door, he opened the blue door that had drawn the pair in the first time they came to view the house—his favourite colour being blue and Y/N loving the pop of colour it gave—a warm welcome to future guests that the two would definitely have. He placed the two boxes he had managed to carry from the car and kicked off his Air Forces, abiding by Y/N’s  ‘No Shoes’ rule that she had gone on and on about, not wanting to dirty the brand new floors. 

He could hear the faint sound of some pop song he didn’t know the name of as he made his way down the hallway, a fresh smell of paint wafting into his nose. He leaned on the doorframe, not before tapping his finger to check if the paint had dried and luckily it had as he couldn’t think of anything worse than getting paint all over his new hoodie. He could see the woman he loved trailing around the kitchen, cupboards open, and boxes all over the marble kitchen counter. She had a determined look on her face as she placed different glassware and plates into cupboards—shiny new ones but also some that Harry had recognised from their old flat. She couldn’t see him as he watched her intently, struggling to lift a heavy box that was filled to the brim with more kitchenware. He knew he’d ought to help her because she was struggling, but the sight was something to enjoy, and a smug look was present on his face as he watched his love scuffle around the kitchen in her pink crocs and his old jumper that was a few sizes too big for her. 

‘’You need a hand, lovely?’’ he teased as she whipped her head around at the sound of his voice, plates nearly falling out of her hands.

‘’Fucking hell, Harry’’ She gasped, steadying the plates in her hands, leaving them down on the counter as she looked properly at him. He had a cheeky grin on his face that made her want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. ‘’Don’t sneak up on me like that.’’

‘’I would have warned you, but I can’t bloody hear myself think over this shite music.’’ he laughed as he made his way over to the counter and pressed the volume down on the speaker that was bellowing endless pop tunes. 

‘’Don’t hate on Sabrina Carpenter; she’s an icon.’’ 

‘’I haven’t a clue who that is.’’ Harry narrowed his eyes at her as she made her way towards him, wrapping her hands around his waist. 

Looking up at him, Y/N laughed, ‘’Course you don’t, you old man.’’ With a kiss to his lips, she smiled, and she took her arms from his waist, wanting to get a better look at him. ‘’How was your day?’’

‘’Was alright.’’ Harry sighed, ‘’Saw the lads for a bit and picked up the last of the boxes from storage, but that’s all. How was yours?’’

‘’OK. Better now you’re home.’’ she smiled. 

The word home almost made Harry’s heart explode out of his chest. It just sounded so good and so right. This place was home, especially with the two here together. 

‘’Think there’s a problem with the electrics though; the lights kept flickering earlier. I hope this place isn’t haunted - they never advertised that.’’ She laughed. 

''Oh, for fuck sakes.’’ Harry cursed, pulling her hand so that her body was nearer to him and away from the counter. ‘’Well, at least I’m here now to protect you from anything scary.’’

Y/N snorted, ‘’Some job you’d do at protecting me—you're scared of everything, silly.’’

''Oh, shut up and gimme me a kiss.’’ he said before separating the space between them once again. 

✩ ✩ ✩

A couple of hours had passed, and Y/N and Harry had managed to unpack all the boxes from the kitchen, living room, and bedroom, leaving all the others piled up in a spare room, ready for them to tackle the following day. To say they were exhausted would have been an understatement.

‘’I’m here all day tomorrow.’’ Harry hummed, ‘’What’s the unpacking plan?’’  

‘’Hmm, I’m thinking we start with the spare rooms.’’ Y/N yawned, her body relaxing into Harry’s body as the pair lay on the sofa, his hands delicately playing with her hair. ‘’Then maybe we could do your filming room; you’ll need that soon enough, won’t you?’’ 

‘’What about your office?’’ Harry asked, knowing Y/N loved her little office she had in their old flat. The two loved one another’s company, don’t get them wrong, but sometimes it was nice that they had their own separate little rooms where they could get on with whatever they needed to that day with no distractions—Harry mostly shouting at his computer filming a More Sidemen video and Y/N working on her fashion blog, headphones on so she didn’t hear her lover screaming every ten minutes. 

‘’That can wait. You need your room done more than me; you have all that filming to do.’’ She poked at his side. 

‘’You’re an angel, d’you know that, ’’ Harry smiled. ‘’We’ll try to do both.’’

Y/N hummed into him, knowing that they probably would only end up doing one room before Harry ended up getting distracted while he unpacked, finding some random useless item he had kept from 2014. ‘’We’ll try.’’

‘’You feeling tired?’’ Harry asked as he kept playing with her hair. She always got tired whenever he did it, usually lulling to sleep half the time, but Harry didn’t mind; he enjoyed watching her pretty eyes flutter to sleep, knowing she felt safe in his embrace. 

‘’Not really.’’ She lied. ‘’Why, what are you thinking?’’

Pulling his hand from her head, she looked up at him dreamily, and it was like she could see the thoughts spinning around his head as he watched her intently. 

‘’Just thinking we haven’t christened the house yet is all.’’ He smiled, a smirk toying at the corners of his mouth. 

‘’Christened the house?’’ Y/N laughed, moving to prop herself up to get a better look at her smirking boyfriend. 

‘’Yeah, you know, like they do in the movies.’’

‘’What sort of movies have you been watching?’’ Y/N snorted. 

''Oh, shut up, don’t you start,’’ Harry tutted playfully, ‘’Y’know what I mean.’’

‘’Go on then; tell me more.’’ Y/N teased.

Harry laughed. So she wanted to indulge him. Thought she was tired? Bullshit.

‘’Just feel like we’ve got a lot of rooms to christen, big house and all,’’ He pressed a kiss on her cheek. ‘’I’m thinking we start upstairs and work our way around the house.’’

‘’All in one night? You’ll be knackered.’’ She teased again.

‘’We’ve got forever, lovely, not just the night,’’ Harry smiled. ''Plus, I think you’ll be the knackered one once I’ve had my way with you.’’ Pressing another kiss on her other cheek. 

‘’Is that so?’’ Y/N’s voice spoke. Yeah, she wasn’t tired anymore at all.  

‘’Yes, doll,’’ Harry grinned, ‘’Don’t pretend you don’t know it.’’

‘’Hmm,’’ she sighed before getting up from the sofa, untangling herself from his grasp and the mounds of blankets that surrounded them. ‘’Race you upstairs then.’’ She said this before legging it out the living room door. She could hear Harry groan from the sofa as she waited momentarily outside the doorway, not wanting to run too far ahead of him. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast in his life, chucking the blankets and his phone to the side as he raced out the door to see her not that far ahead of him, nearing the staircase. 

‘’Thought you were faster than that, lovely.’’ He laughed as he chased after her, hands flying out in front of him to try and take hold of her hand but failing as she was always just a few inches ahead of him. 

‘’Come on, slow coach.’’ She echoed from the top of the stairs, and he could see that his hoodie that she’d been wearing for the past few hours had been discarded over the bannister. What a menace, he thought. 

With her just out of sight, he took heavy steps up the stairs before pausing at the top, letting out a sigh of happiness. His favourite girl in the world, running around their house as she shouted for him from their bedroom—he could so get used to this, he knew that for sure. 

Their home together, forever.

✩ ✩ ✩

a/n: hope you enjoyed this little blurb!!! i'll try and get back to doing my requests and series updates more frequently - just need to find the time x

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader

[redtsundere-writes]

sukuna and servant!reader is so good!! looking forward to rescue more of them <33

Eyes On Me | Sukuna Ryomen

king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader

Sypnosis: Uraume can't play chess with the king right now, you must step up. Contents: Obsession, pining, kinda fluffy, mentions of blood and body parts. Uraume uses they/them pronouns. Word Count: 2404 words. Author's Note: I love writing this ship. People have been asking me to make this a series. I'll try my best lol I think you can still read them individually, but there's a preferred order.

Beginning. ← Previous |

Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on temporary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining. 

Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it’s up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although… There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing. 

You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked about themselves, you never asked. 

“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire. 

Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef. 

“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him. 

After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence. 

“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him. 

“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture. 

Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen the king playing. You knew from the other servants that he was a good player and only plays with Uraume or some brave guest. This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw. 

“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity. 

Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and taking orders, but what else can you do? 

“Yes,” you answered with a smile. 

That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that. 

“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you. 

“I warn you that it may be a short game. It's been a long time since I've played,” you warned him as you sat down. 

Sukuna watched you with great attention. Your eyes scanned the board as if it was the first time you had ever seen one, your hands rested gently on your thighs and you smiled nervously. You may have known the rules of the game, but you didn't know how to play. The king took your word for it. 

“Ladies first,” he asked you to start.

“My pleasure,” you said as your dominant hand moved over the pieces to decide what your first move would be. 

Your father had taught you how to play. He always wanted a son to inherit the family business, but your mother only kept giving birth to women, so he had to resign himself to you. Your mother taught you how to be a lady so you could get married as soon as possible and your father taught you about the business so that your future husband wouldn’t take advantage of the family money. You used to sit in front of the wooden board and talk for hours after dinner. Your father may not have been the wisest or the most astute man, but he had left you a very important lesson: Always look people in the eye to know their true intentions. 

This was one of the few times you came face to face with Sukuna. Because of his title as king and the great difference in height, you were always beneath him, physically and psychologically speaking. You were a simple human, while he was a king with the power to get rid of whomever he wanted with a simple movement of his fingers. Although his presence made you feel vulnerable, you didn't resent him. You had a relatively comfortable life serving him, but sometimes there was a need for you to show him that you were more than a servant. This was a good opportunity to do so. 

Sukuna's eyes were not on you, they were on the board. His gaze denoted boredom. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move. If you waited a little longer, maybe he would yawn. He overestimated you, you had to use that feeling against him. You moved a pawn to the C4 square, a common move among beginners.

“Finally…” He said in a monotone voice before quickly moving the knight to the F6 square. 

Each of you took turns to move the pieces quietly as time went by. You took your time with each move, while the king only needed to look at the board from time to time to know what to do next. You could take all the time in the world, but he would still eat all your pieces. Even though it didn't seem to be an interesting game, you could at least keep up with him. Sukuna's queen advanced towards yours, standing face to face. One false move and your king was in trouble. 

“Check,” you said as the queen retreated two squares diagonally, leaving her free to begin the attack on the king. 

At that announcement, Sukuna woke up from the trance he was in to concentrate on what he was doing. He smiled with satisfaction as he noticed the change in your body. Your hands had relaxed, your back was straight, and your eyes were glued to his. You knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't need to tell him verbally that you would destroy him at his own game, your eyes told him clearly. It was as if you were dissecting his soul bit by bit until you left him completely naked.

Your hands were interleaved with each turn. You moved quickly as you realized that Sukuna had already noticed your active presence on the board. Sukuna returned the queen to his side. An interesting move. It was wise to know when to back away, but you noticed one thing in his eyes. He had no plan, he just acted based on his understanding of the game. He moved like in real life, using only his killer instincts. 

“Check,” you announced again by moving a knight up. 

“Not so fast,” Sukuna told you before taking the horse that was threatening his king using a queen. You smiled as you saw that his majesty had fallen into the trap. By moving his pieces like that, Sukuna had fully exposed his king. 

“Checkmate,” you announced the end of the game as soon as you moved the white queen close to the black king. And only then, the poor maid defeated the almighty king. 

“Well, well...” Sukuna sighed in awe as he looked at the board with extreme curiosity. He couldn't be mad at you. He had let his guard down. You were playing even before the game started. 

There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what you were doing. Sukuna would always hyper fixate on you whenever he noticed your presence around him. You could be cleaning, chatting with your companions or eating some dried fruit in the garden, and he would still only notice you as if nothing else in the world existed. You were the most interesting human he had ever seen. Sukuna tried to look for a logical reason for his obsession with you, but he couldn't do it. You looked like a simple being with clear goals, but he was sure you were hiding something behind your perfect facade. 

Someone knocked at the door. Sukuna sighed, he wanted to be alone with you longer, but now was not the time. Uraume entered the room and was surprised to see you sitting with his majesty. Something strange had been going on between the two of you for months. They had even debated the idea of asking the king directly about you, but hadn't worked up the courage to do so.  

“There was an inconvenience in the kitchen. Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Uraume bowed in apology. 

“Lucky for you, you sent a good replacement,” Sukuna said before smiling at you in satisfaction. 

Uraume instantly understood just by glancing at the board. You had beaten the king, something even they could not easily accomplish. They could tell that he was looking at you like no one else. It wasn't a look of disgust or boredom, it was a curious look. Like that of a child looking at a group of kids playing in the playground, wondering if he could come over to play with them. 

“If you'll excuse me, I have to go,” you said as you got up to give the seat to Uraume. “Good game. It was a pleasure to play against you, my king,” you bowed. 

“Good game,” Sukuna whispered so you could leave the room. 

Sukuna and Uraume started a new game as soon as you returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. They quickly noticed that something was occupying her majesty's mind. Their white pieces were eating his black pieces easily and his moves were slow compared to previous games. Uraume could tell that the game against you had changed the way he played.

“What do you see in her?” Uraume asked him after a move. 

“Am I too obvious?” Sukuna asked them before getting up from his seat to start prowling around the library to clear his mind. “What do you think of her?” He asked her as he stopped in front of the window to admire the land. The large green lawn stretched all the way to the intimidating entrance of his wonderful castle. 

“She is a dedicated servant and a perfectionist. She does all the chores in a timely manner. She is as good a servant as any other. The real question is: What do you think of her?” Uraume asked as they watched him from their seat. 

“She has potential.” 

“Potential? Potential for what?” Uraume arched their eyebrow at the confusing statement. 

“She has the potential to become a queen,” Sukuna replied confidently. 

Sukuna Ryomen was known among the kingdoms for being an unorthodox king. Not only because he took kingdoms left and right as if it were nothing, but because he has a strange way of ruling his people. He did not care about social classes, behavioral labels or unwritten codes of human coexistence. Everyone was inferior to him regardless of gender, race, or religion. He was the god of this new world and everyone had to obey him, just like that. 

The fact that he wanted to have a queen went far beyond just following the established patterns of classical monarchy. Sukuna must have a reason why he wants to have a queen other than just because, but there was a more important question on the table. 

“Your majesty, you can get any woman you want. You can get a beautiful woman, with more training and presence, why would you settle for a servant?” Uraume asked in confusion. Sukuna smiled. It was a good question. 

“She has something much better than that,” he answered before continuing the game as if nothing happened. Uraume looked down to see that Sukuna had checkmated them.

Author's Note: I poured my poor knowledge on chess for this lol I hope it makes sense.

Order your own fanfic!

Masterlist.

#fanfic #fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #jjk imagine #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #fluff #jjk fluff #king x servant #sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen x reader

[macabr3-barbi3]

Alastor/sheep!Reader- Red Riding Hood (Ao3 Request)

I had so much fun with this! And I'm thinking about doing a little mini-series of retellings of fairy tales because of this so 👀

Tags: chase; outside sex; rough sex; predator/prey for like 3 paragraphs; reader is kind of a little shit

2.6k words

<3<3<3<3<3

The woods are dark and dense, and you curse yourself again for agreeing to undertake this journey for your new manager.

“It gets cold!” She had whined, gesturing to the hairless skin of her Sphynx cat form. “ I could freeze, and its really important that this delivery gets picked up tonight! You’re such a great friend,” she had gushed when you caved and agreed to make the trip for her, to the outermost edges of the Pride ring. Why couldn’t she have just air-shipped the package? “The customer doesn’t like modern technology.”  Why not have him come get it? “He isn’t really a people person, I don’t want to scare anyone off.”

An idiot is what you were- an idiot that was new to Hell and didn’t have many other options for jobs. You were sweltering under the stupid red cloak that she had given you, swearing up and down that the forest you’d be going through got chilly at night and insisting that you take it with you; the only plus to the damned thing was that it had a pocket into which you could slip the delivery parcel. Even though you weren’t technically properly trained for deliveries yet, the thick wool that coated the lush curves of your sheep-like body apparently made you the perfect candidate for the trip through the ‘cold’ woods. 

“Bullshit,” you mutter, throwing the hood of the damned thing back and letting the soft breeze whip past your ears. The trees seem to whistle their displeasure at your presence, your hair swirling around your face as you head in the general direction that the app on your phone directed you. 

There’s a sudden growl in the air, and you freeze where you stand. It almost rumbles the ground beneath your feet, and glancing over your shoulder you see a hint of crimson eyes staring from the darkness.

Fuck that. You take off without any further inspection of the glowing gaze, tossing your phone into the cloak pocket as you run- you don’t need to know what it is if it's going to try to hurt you somehow, and you don’t give a damn about the delivery being on time if it means risking your life. Why wouldn’t your manager have told you there was dangerous shit out here? You get that it’s Hell but for fuck’s sake.

Your lungs are aching as you continue on, not willing to slow or stop while you can still hear the crashing of tree branches and snarling behind you, right at your heels. There’s a hand on the hood of your cloak then, pulling you backwards, and without thinking you slam your head back, horns miraculously hitting home right in the creature’s face. It releases you with a pained groan and you don’t look back, booking it as fast as you can in a different direction, stitch in your side growing more and more painful with every step.

The woods are silent as you finally slow and stop, bracing your back against a tree and trying to catch your heaving breath. Your whole body is on fire, physical exertion having never been your strong suit, but you’re still alive and that’s what matters- body aches will heal, but you heard that regeneration was a bitch.

“Are you chilly, darling?”

The unexpected voice makes you whip around, cloak whirling as you turn. “Fuck!” Your heart is still beating like a drum, hard hammering against your chest from the run before you had stopped to rest. 

The demon casually leaning against a nearby tree watches you with a wide grin, a trickle of blood from his lips where your horns had slammed into him. His eyes, red and lidded, flick up and down your body. “It’s quite rude to leave a question unanswered.”

“It’s also quite rude to sneak up on people. Was that you chasing me?”

“Why, I’m just making sure that you are heading in the right direction! The number of people that have gotten lost on their way to me is truly a nuisance.” He eyes the shape of the package in your cloak pocket. “I’m pleased to see that this one hasn’t been lost to the forest yet.” He steps closer, holds a hand out to you. “Come along now, dear.”

“R-right. Can you confirm the name on the package?”

A wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Alastor.”

It matches the name on the package which is good enough for you. “Okay, great. Here you go.” You pull the box from your pocket and hold it out to him. “That’s all this needed to be.”

He cocks his head to one side. “Surely you won’t be leaving so soon.”

“I’m just here to make the delivery, sir.” Your hands are trembling with leftover adrenaline as he takes the parcel, inspects it for a moment, then unceremoniously tosses it over his shoulder into the darkness.

“Your work ethic is to be admired!” He exclaims, ignoring your outraged expression. “But there seems to be confusion- you are the delivery, darling.” When you stiffen at his words he chuckles and creeps closer, circling you like a predator. “Let me guess- you’re new to the shop, you aren’t trained for deliveries, and the manager had compelling reasons for why you should come instead of herself?”

“I-”

“We have an understanding, you see.” He trails a finger down the cloak hanging over your arm. “Retail is a hard business in Hell- no one wants to stick around, people are hard to train, they never last long anyway. Your manager has had to run several of my packages herself and the last one was, sadly, lost to the elements by her own fault.” He looks off into the distance, seemingly irritated at the memory. “What could have possessed her to attempt to cross a river with a priceless antique electronic is beyond me but here we are. I would have simply killed her but she has connections I can use to my advantage so we made a deal instead.” He looks back to you, head cocked to one side as he smiles. “An easy meal as compensation for her transgression. Delivered right to me.” His eyes darken, raking over your form, the curves of your body. “I hadn’t expected her to act so quickly but it’s been some time since I last had mutton.”

“I won’t taste good,” you tell him calmly despite the lingering fear from the chase, and an eyebrow raises in amusement. “When I was alive my mom always said I was rotten, I’m sure that doesn’t translate well to my demon form. And then you’ll have wasted your deal on bad meat.” You keep your voice steady while you address him.

“Oh?” He circles you and you can feel his gaze running over your body again. “I’m not so sure about that, dear- I’ve never found any complaints with meat of any kind. I’m sure you’ll be quite tasty.” He smiles when he comes around the front again, the sharp teeth glinting in the light that filters through the trees.

And fuck, the way he said that shouldn’t have been kind of hot. This was a serious situation, definitely not the time to be thinking vaguely inappropriate thoughts about the demon who was quite blatantly threatening to eat you. “Do you want to risk it?” You ask, and his smile turns curious. “I mean, I’d hate to have to tell you ‘I told you so’ but I would do it. The shop has new people like me coming in every week for training that you could have your pick of instead of taking the first thing to come along; what if you missed out on something really delicious?” 

Alastor watches you carefully. “I suppose you have a point, darling,” he concedes, his slim shoulders shrugging. “A meal that talks back so much would surely be a poor one. Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed that I won’t get a chance to sample you.” His voice seems to drop, a rolling purr in the strange radio cadence he has that makes your hair stand on end and your heart thump in your chest.

“Maybe I could let you have a taste?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, the air between the two of you suddenly charged with tension. “Just, you know. Show you what I mean, that I won’t be any good. Rotten and all that, like my mom says.”

“On the contrary, I think you’ll be very good.” He steps closer to you, towers over your frame with hooded eyes that track the movement of your throat as you swallow. “But I’ll behave myself since you’ve shown me the error of my ways- a mere sampling of your flavor, nothing more. I suppose there is more that I could get out of your manager if I don’t ‘cash in’ right away, as it were.” He brings a claw tipped hand to cup your face, tilting your head one way then the other. “We’ll start here,” he murmurs, and you close your eyes, wait for the brush of his lips against yours.

It doesn’t come- instead you feel him lick along the column of your neck, the muscle hot and wet where it drags against your skin, a shuddering exhale leaving you at the feeling. One hand comes up to rest on your waist, the other unclipping the clasp of the red cloak you wear and letting it fall to the ground. You shiver without it, not from the cold but from the sensations raging through your body at such a simple touch, and Alastor pulls back, licking his lips at the taste of you.

“My disappointment at agreeing to let you go is immeasurable,” he whispers, pupils blown when he meets your eyes. “It’s just as I suspected- delicious.” The hand that released the cloak winds itself into your hair, brushing against the base of your horns. “Would you indulge me in another taste?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to come out clearly, and he swipes along your neck again, allowing his teeth to press gently against your pulse point before he continues down, snaking the hot appendage between the valley of your breasts and holding you tighter to his body. There’s still adrenaline coursing through your body making each touch feel like an electric pulse to your core, and when he growls into your chest you let out a quiet moan that echoes in the quiet woods.

One hand still tangled in your hair, thumb gently brushing against your horns, he slips his free hand under the waistband of your skirt and into your panties, inhaling sharply at the wetness he finds. Claws absent, he slides a finger inside of you, the press of it slow and steady, making you rock your hips into his hand.

“Someone’s eager, hm?” He presses another digit into the slickness of your cunt, bends his fingers in a way that his you seeing stars as he thrusts them in and out of your heat. You let out a soft cry against him and cling to his shirt, up on your tiptoes to let his fingers reach wherever he wants.

“More,” you whimper, letting one of your hands reach up to his face, a move that surprises him. “Please, Alastor.”

He brings his face up from your skin and devours your mouth, his tongue showing just as much attention to your mouth as he had your neck, licking into it with fervor and enthusiasm you wouldn’t have expected from him. “Would you let me have you, darling? This is hardly an appropriate place, but-”

“Yes,” you tell him, not even letting him finish his sentence, and he gently lowers you to the ground to lay across the expanse of the red cloak. He makes short work of his trousers, shoving your skirt up around your waist and slicing your panties off with a quick swipe of his fingers before he fists his cock and slots himself against you. “Oh fuck-” He impales you with a hard thrust, sinking in to the base with a harsh grip on your hips.

“Lovely,” he groans into your ear, and then he seems to lose the capability for language, his words devolving into harsh grunts and growls as he fills you over and over, snapping his hips against yours in a quick rhythm that leaves you gasping and trying to pull him closer. 

A hand leaves your hips to tangle in your hair; you arch up, thinking that he means to kiss you again until his palm wraps around the length of one horn, using it like a handle to pull your head back, throat exposed to him while he rails into you. “Delicious little thing,” he says, and drags his tongue down the column of your throat again, sucking a pattern of bruises along it that you know you’ll spend the next week pressing into with your fingertips. His sharp teeth pinch a bit of skin lightly and you jerk in his hold.

It should have terrified you, instead dousing your body in a liquid flame. “J-Just tasting, remember,” you jokingly reprimand, and his laugh reverberates through your chest.

“How could I forget?” He lets go of your horn, slips the hand between your bodies as he leans back so he can watch you rocking with the force of his thrusts into you. His thumb swipes forcefully at your clit, the ecstasy near overwhelming as he loses some of his rhythm, your cunt clamping down on him. “It's quite selfish to deny me, darling, but I’ll take of you what I can- your pleasure, your body, all of it mine-”

Your eyes roll back in your head as the tension in your lower body snaps, dragging Alastor down with a hand in his hair to meet your lips, desperate and sloppy while you quake and shatter to pieces below him. He spends himself with a snarl in the tightness of your body, slick with your arousal and release as you cry out, the sound swallowed by his mouth.

He remains still for a moment, crouched over you, before he pulls back and rests you gently on the cloak. “This thing is hideous,” he says with distaste. “It made it quite easy to track you- which was the intention- but you must have been sweltering.”

You watch what you can see if the sky through the canopy of the trees. “She said it could get cold,” you laugh, “and I’m a fool. What a terrible job.”

“Not a fool,” he corrects, spreading the fabric out to lay on it beside you for a moment. “Nearly a victim of a deal that didn’t concern you- and perhaps I will still pay your manager a visit- but never a fool. You convinced me not to eat you for now, at least.”

You shoot him a smile. “Well, you weren’t that scary once you stopped chasing me,” you giggle, “besides those sharp teeth.”

His nose wrinkles with his amusement. “Keep teasing me, dear, and I’ll acquaint you with these sharp teeth for real.” He leans close enough to nip at your shoulder, the motion more teasing than painful. “There’s always tomorrow, after all- who knows what my appetite will be once I’ve dealt with that manager of yours? Mutton could still be on the menu.”

“Well,” you say, “if I’ll be out of a job soon so I might go apply at the coffee shop around the corner from our place. I heard their manager is a real ass- how would you feel about duck instead?” He laughs into your shoulder, the sound deep and clear, and you think maybe it wasn’t such a bad job after all if this was where it lead for now.

#hazbin hotel #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #x reader #requests <3 #my stuff <3

[inbarfink]

Ace Attorney Lawyers Ranked By Their Abilities in Physical Combat

Winston Payne: I’m pretty sure the average Tumblr user could kill Winston Payne with their bare hands.

Sebastian DeBeste: Look, the only reason why this wimp ranks higher than Payne is because he is so sopping wet pathetic that there is a significant chance that his opponent will just start feeling bad about kicking his ass and punch themself in the face instead.

Klavier Gavin: While Klavier is a physically fit young man who is known to keep his cool in extreme situations, he is also a giant law-abiding nerd who has never thrown a punch at anything that isn’t an inanimate wall. It probably wouldn’t be that hard to shove this guy into a locker.

Miles Edgeworth: Look, Miles is an even bigger locker-worthy nerd than Klavier. Anytime anyone, friend or foe, suggests a violent solution he just gets freaked out and begs for them to follow procedures. And no AA Lawyer is more easily thrown off his rhythm and startled than he is. He might have some bulk under the magenta and frills (or at least some impressive leg muscles from climbing 12 flights of stairs every day for like seven years), but he has no idea or will to actually use them in a fight. However, he did try and stare down a man who was aiming a gun at his back that one time and managed to keep his cool throughout all of this.

So like, he’d probably talk a big game and try and intimidate his opponent into not engaging - but if that won’t work he will get his ass thoroughly whooped. And then he’d try to sue them, which is what his threats were about all along.

Apollo Justice: Actually a considerable step up in power-levels from the previous ones. Apollo might be smol, but he is Done With Your Shit and this gives him Strength. Not to mention that one time he successfully tanked an explosion. His famous Chords of Steel can also serve as a tactic to confuse or weaken his enemies.

Kristoph Gavin: Although he is primarily known for his schemes and poisoning, he did kill a man with a single blow to the forehead with a bottle, showing he does have some decent upper-body-strength to use in a fight. And being known as ‘the Coolest Defense in the West’ means he can keep his calm even during hectic combat. But he’s also very pretentious and his constant pontifications might just be the perfect opportunity for someone to smash his face in.

Blaise Debeste: Okay, look, is Blaise a scary tall man who successfully stabbed a woman to death with a candelabra and constantly carries around a deceptively-powerful lighter and has like, implied, motorcycle gang background? Yes. But also I think anyone who encounters Blaise Debeste face-to-face is overcome with such bloodlust rage that it might give them an edge in the battle against him.

Mia Fey: Mia ranks fairly high on the Battle Scale considering the one time she was faced with a violent altercation she just tried to escape and it… didn’t end well.

However, in the two times we get to play as her it’s also clear that she wants to Punch. All of the Things. While Apollo is fueled by being Done With Your Shit, Mia has righteous anger - so I think in a situation where she is actually prepared to do battle she would be able to throw a few decent punches. Also assuming we are talking about Mia while she was still alive, there’s also her Spirit Channeling powers to account for. While we’ve never seen them on screen, Maya told us they are “first rate” and I believe her. Maybe she could channel the spirit of a great warrior to try and get an edge in combat?

Manfred Von Karma: While he also has the same Bloodlust-Inducing-Factor as Blaise, and he does seem less physically fit even though they’re about the same age - I feel like his cane could do more serious damage than Blaise’s lighter. And he has that dangerous fucking Stun Gun on him to easily neutralize opponents. Plus, he did tank that one gunshot he got in the shoulder. Manfred’s opponents might have Rage on their side, but also you cannot underestimate the power of his sheer Spite.

Godot: On one hand, Godot has shown an ability to keep his cool in very dangerous situations. He can smash a coffee cup with his bare hands and barely react, showing that he’s decently strong and resilient to pain. And he is yet another proud (?) member of the exclusive “Lawyers With a Body Count Club”. And while stabbing a waifish, 155cm college student (and part time-poisoner) in the back isn’t exactly the most epic demonstration of battle prowess in the history of Anime Lawyers - he did it (and moved the body and doctored the crime scene and prosecuted in court) while tanking a knife slash in his face, showing his pain-resilience once again, as well as general tenacity that would also be useful in battle. Also, he can summon an infinite amount of hot coffee mugs at will, which must make for a decent improvised long-ranged attack.

On the other hand, his health is also heavily implied to be deteriorating and that he’s basically dying over the course of the final case… possibly due to all of that physical exhaustion. If a fight goes longer than just a single backstab, I feel like these health complications are gonna harm Godot’s performance.

Phoenix Wright: Okay, so this is actually the hardest one to place. I keep flip-flopping on where to put him, especially compared to Mia, and Apollo. Because unlike most other lawyers currently ranked below him, he is a disaster when it comes to being on the offensive; Phoenix Wright is a total wimp who has never returned a punch in his life. However, he is also almost supernaturally durable, unbelievably lucky and deceptively strong. If a solid iron door, a raging freezing river and a speeding car didn’t manage to take him down, what chance does a fellow human, even a more combat-capable one, have???

Calisto Yew: She’s not even a real-lawyer! She’s a Secret Spy who successfully pretended to be a Lawyer for years! She’s got a gun, she’s got a knife, she's got crossbow bolt as hair decorations, she probably has some combat training from her time in Interpol… While she’s clearly more specialized for espionage and infiltration, and not as physically strong as Lang, she’s still got an impressive advantage over most of the regular people who went to Law School. In fact, her skill with barefaced lies and manipulation might also be a skill she could use in a fight to catch her opponent off-guard.

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi: Nahyuta is, in fact, one of the few AA Lawyers to canonically participate in what I would unambiguously call a ‘fight’ (rather than a ‘murder’), when he single-handedly disarmed and apprehended a Defiant Dragon rebel in the sorta-canon ‘Spirit of Justice’ Prologue video.

Like, that rebel guy probably isn't the world's greatest warrior, but the Defiant Dragons have been around for enough time to give their members at least some basic self-defense/combat skills… more so than the average lawyer on this list at minimum. And Nahyuta very easily crab-stomped him. Showing that he has strong nerves, some amazing reflexes and the martial art skills to knock a man unconscious with a single blow. Not to mention the seemingly supernatural skills with his prayer beads, which he already uses as a sort of ‘weapon’ in court. Also that... thing he did to Apollo's bracelet that one time.

Nahyuta might be just straight-up Magic, that's pretty OP.

Franziska von Karma: Look, Franziska might not have official martial-arts, guns, or Literal Magic Powers - but what she does have is sheer determination and force or personality. Franziska von Karma has been intimidating grown men since she was a 149 cm tall 13 years old with a riding crop (I mean, one of those men was Miles, but still…..). She had once whipped Phoenix Wright into unconsciousness in a temper tantrum, and like I already mentioned that taking him down is quite a feat. She is also very resilient - while the shot to her shoulders was designed not to kill her, being up back on her feet doing investigation stuff a day after is still very impressive! Her whip might not be as dangerous as a sword or a gun, but she will not relent until she defeats you.

Simon Blackquill: Let me just give it to you straight, Simon Blackquill is 1.88 meter tall, he owns a katana and a trained attack-hawk (giving him both short range and far range advantage), he can break solid metal chains with his bare hands, he can cut your hair halfway across the room with a feather. Not to mention how he could probably use the whole psychological manipulation in battle to intimidate or goad his enemy. There’s not even a lot of funny or interesting points to bring up, he is literally an action movie character who just happens to also be a lawyer.

Athena Cykes: Athena Cykes is the strongest lawyer. One day, she’ll be stronger than whales. I believe in her.

#winston payne #sebastian debeste #klavier gavin #miles edgeworth #apollo justice #kristoph gavin #blaise debeste #mia fey #franziska von karma #manfred von karma #godot #prosecutor godot #diego armando #phoenix wright #pheonix wright #Calisto Yew #nahyuta sahdmadhi #simon blackquill #athena cykes #ace attorney #aa #pwaa #phoenix wright ace attorney #gyakuten saiban #ace attorney investigations #gyakuten kenji #aai2 #aai1 #aa investigations #naruhodo ryuichi

[triassictriserratops]

I think if peeta even got a sniffle Katniss would go fucking feral, drop everything and take care of him (and get sick herself)

ABSOLUTELY SHE WOULD. She'd call her mom like, "he's dying, what do I do?" Peeta's in the background like, "Hi Mrs. Everdeen, I just have seasonal allergies, I took some Zyrtec, everything is fine! "YOU'RE DYING, SHUT UP AND GO TO BED BEFORE I KILL YOU." BUT NOW Now, Anon? Now i get to talk about what I think happens when KATNISS gets sick. And spoiler alert, it's GREAT. The first time Katniss gets sick after the war, she doesn't tell anyone. She just locks herself in her house, puts a note on the door saying that she's fine and to come back tomorrow hoping that Sae sees it and doesn't bother with cooking anything for her. She grabs some remedies, a box of plain crackers, a blanket, some water, and trudges her way upstairs back to bed. A few hours later she hears a loud crash in the kitchen. She waddles and sniffles her way downstairs to the sight of a cursing Peeta, sprawled on the kitchen floor, while his prosthetic is dangling from the open window above the sink. "What are you doing?" she says in a congested voice, "I left a note on the door." She moves over to the window to unlatch his prosthesis from where it got snagged on the windowsill. "This," he says, brandishing the crumpled paper in the air, "is NOT enough of an explanation. People were worried. Haymitch was worried..." He glances away at that. "Haymitch? Bullshit." she snorts as she bends down to reattach his leg. She stays down when she's done realizing that she's feeling a little unsteady on her feet. "Fine. FINE! I was worried. What's going on? Did I do something wrong?" "No! Of course not. It-it's fine. I'm fine. I'm just sick. Thanks for stopping by. I'll see you tomorr-." She's struggling to get back up when she feels the air whoosh around her and realizes that Peeta has picked her up to carry her over to the couch. "Sick? What's wrong? Have you taken anything? Let me make you some tea, or do you want soup? I can make soup." he's rambling as he presses the back of his hand to her clammy forehead. "I really am okay. I got this. I'll be fine, Peeta." she says, pushing his hand away from her face and regretting it immediately at the loss of contact. "Katniss. Please let me do this, okay? This is what you and I do, right? That's what you said. Now, tell me where you keep your bouillon. I'm making some chicken stock and a good soup for you." That's when it hits Katniss. She hasn't really been taken care of like this in years. Maybe since she was 11. For years now, her mother would do her best to take care of her during the occassional cold, of course. But for the most part Katniss struggled to accept any softness or warmth from her mother. Feeling caught between that desire to be held and comforted and the anger she still felt towards her - they instead both settled for the distant, clinical detachment her mother had with her other patients. But, really, the last nearly 7 years of her life have been dedicated to the care of her family and her loved ones. She learned to stop asking for things and began instead to meet all of her own needs, without relying on others. After the games she'd begun the process of extending that branch and allowing herself to lean on her mother a little more. But now? Now her mother isn't here. And here she was right back to what she knew. Taking care of herself. Looking up at Peeta, blue eyes shining in earnest. Ready to do and be anything that is needed of him. Anything that SHE needs of him. She wipes her nose on her sleeve and smiles. "Pantry. Top shelf. On the right. Thank you, Peeta."

#katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #hunger games headcanon #thg headcanons #thg #thg series #the hunger games #thg fic #thg fanfiction #love is a verb #hunger games sick day

[confessioncassette]

The Belly of a Black Heart - Alastor x Reader

18+. minors do not interact.

thank you @lustylita for the inspiration of this fic. your mind is a beautiful place. everyone check out her art and her concept to this story here. all credits to her, this was not my idea.

part 2

summary : After an unsuspecting death, you end up in hell and at the Hazbin Hotel. You become dead set on redemption. Alastor's feelings towards you are confusing and it pisses him off more than he can handle. In result, unknowingly to him, his feelings manifest through his shadow.

tw : no smut this chapter. angst. alastor being a jerk. mild gore/wound

words : 5.3k

notes : i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

When you wake the next morning, your head is a blur. Sitting up in your bed you take a minute to look around your new living situation. It takes a second to understand that this isn’t the room you usually wake up in but, despite all of that, you feel good. 

The reality of being in hell was hard on you yesterday. You’ve had your little breakdown and denial fest.. you won’t let that bother you today. Pushing past things is how you manage. Always one step at a time. Plus, you’re in a place that offers redemption now. What’s done is done and now you can focus on how to get into heaven and maybe sort out a plan there. With God or something, right? 

He’s literally God, maybe he could help your situation on earth. You doubt anyone here could help you… or even want to help you. 

No headaches, your body doesn’t burn… today feels like you can start fresh. Rolling to get out of bed, your eyes catch a bundle of red in the corner of your eye.  

Three red peonies tied together in a bow lay delicately over your unoccupied pillow.

You examine the vibrant flowers and thumb around the stems. You wonder who was thoughtful enough to give a simple yet welcoming gift. 

Alastor’s fleeting expression and charming smile snatches your memory from last night. Your face almost burns, remembering how close he was to you, his face grazing against your cheek, breath fanning over you as it does. 

Smiling to yourself, you think today would be a good day to get back on track. Charlie is willing to help you, and you might learn more about the gentleman from last night. You can even thank him for the lovely flowers. 

The hotel buzzes with life when you walk to the formal dining room. Delicious breakfast foods waft through the air. The warm smell of coffee buzzes through your body. 

“C’mon Husky, don’t chya wanna try it? I’ve been slavin’ over this all mornin’ for ya!” A tall, fluffy man leans over the dining room table, sliding a plate of food to a grumpy cat. 

“Fuck no! Satan knows what you put in there and I don’t wanna risk dying twice.” Taking a swig from a browned bottle, the cat pushes away the plate. 

The tall man’s shoulder slump as he lets out a groan. “Fine, but one day you’re gunna try my cookin’ and you’ll love it. You might even beg for moore.” He teases, taking the plate for himself as Husk rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, good morning! How was your first night?” Charlie beams from the head of the table and everyone’s heads swivel to you. Suddenly, you’re on the spot. 

“It was great, thank you. I actually had the best sleep I’ve had in a while,” you smile, “I needed it.” 

“Everyone welcome our new guest! She arrived late last night.” 

It was a small creature with a giant eye who lunged herself toward you first. Her little legs patting the floor and up your body before you could react. 

“I’m Nifty, I clean.” A sinister giggle erupts from her lips before the tall man who offered.. Husk is it?.. a plate gently and removes her from you. 

“Hey doll, I’m Angel.”

Alastor watches from the hallway as the group introduces themselves to you. Hidden in the shadows, he watches you closely. The way you smile fondly towards people you barely know, how you embrace each one with a greeting. Clearly, you lighten the room. But you’re a mystery, and one he doesn’t want to get involved with. 

Does he? 

Your sweet doe eyes are burned in a memory. He couldn’t help but get close enough to smell you, and fuck, did your saccerine smell burn through his nostrils as well. He could see your panic, the reality of your new eternal life smacking you in the face… the frustration it caused you last night. 

But were you really keen on redemption? He could see the light beam behind your eyes once you stood at the center of your room. You belong here, you’re here for a reason. It’s hell afterall. Every sinner who comes here belongs to this wretched place to burn forever. Surely Charlie’s delusions didn’t persuade you in one night? 

Surely you’re not that…simple? 

“Will Alastor be joining us for breakfast? He’s the only one I haven’t seen this morning.” Alastor ears perk up at your voice from afar. 

“Ehh, smiles doesn’t usually eat with us. Probably up in his room going to town on some animal he caught this mornin’.” Angel grimaces. 

Watching your reaction closely, the slight fall of your face doesn’t go unnoticed. But you’re quick to recover with a smile and dig in with everyone else. 

“Okay everyone! Gather around! Today we will be learning about each other.” Charlie’s hand gestures to you on the couch as everyone else filters into the common room. 

Angel plops himself over the couch’s armchair next to you, stretching his long legs over your thighs. Husk mopes in the room, bottle in hand and leans against the fireplace. Nifty props herself over the table happily swinging her legs and Vaggie stands beside her partner, eyeing everyone down. 

Your eyes carefully glance around the room, trying not to bring attention that you’re looking for Alastor. From your comment at breakfast before, you don’t want to keep bringing the man up to avoid conversations you don’t want to have. 

But it fails. 

“Looking for tall dark and creepy?” Angel shimmies his chest and throws you a wink. 

Rolling your eyes you push playfully at Angel’s leg. “No, just making sure everyone is here.” Giving him a side eye you whisper, “nosey.”

Angel laughs and gives you a nudge, “Well looks like you’re in luck toots, looks who’s comin’.” 

Perking up, you watch Alastor’s tall form stride in the room and take a seat in an armchair directly across from you. His smile is wide, but it seems strained? Folding one leg over the other, he relaxes back into his seat. His eyes scan the room, probably checking for roll-call, before landing directly over you. 

You give a smile but he doesn’t react. 

“Okay! Now that everyone is here, we will be telling 2 truths and a lie. Everyone will say two truths about themselves and one lie. The group will have to guess which one is a lie. So fun!” Charlie claps. 

“I don’t want to put our new guest on the spot, so let’s start with Husk.”

A low groan emits from the fireplace where Husk stands. He really looks like he doesn’t want to be here, but maybe he’s been here long enough to know that he has to participate. 

“Alright, uh, I can down a whole bottle of whiskey with no reaction, I suck at dice games, and I hate water.”

“I’ll give you something to down, Husky~” Angel tosses his head back and blows him a kiss. 

“For fuckssake,” Husk rolls his eyes.

“Oh oh! I know, the lie is he hates water! I’ve seen him take bubble baths at night.” Nifty giggles sinisterly. 

“Okay good job, Nifty.” Vaggie cringes and turns her attention to you, “Would you like to give it a try next?” 

Glancing between her and Alastor’s heavy stare, has he been looking at you this whole time? You shrug. “Sure, I'll give it a shot. Let me think…” You hum. 

“I’ve been in hell for a long time, I love to dance and I’m pretty good at it, and I stole drugs when I was alive.” You’re not that great with coming up with things on the spot, but you gave it your best shot. First things that came to your mind and all without being too personal. 

Angel drags out a hum, “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you can dance. Not sure if I would paint you as someone who would steal. You act like Miss-goodie-two-shoes’s-distant relative over there. I’m gunna go with that one.”

You couldn’t help but contain your smile, you could have sworn that your appearance gave you away that you literally died just yesterday. 

“Nope! I died yesterday and found this place last night. Thank god I saw your commercial, I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t.” 

Angel’s mouth drops open and leans forward. “Hold on, you’re like, super fresh? No kiddin’. So… you stole drugs?” He looks you up and down, “can you do it again?” 

“Matter of fact, we don’t know much about you. Anything at all really. I’ll take it you’re here because you stole, but there’s gotta be more than that.” Husk examines his bottle. 

You shift in your seat uncomfortably. “Yeah, I stole but- I don’t know.” Memories of stealing drugs, scamming people for money flood your mind. That stuff was bad, but did it really land you here in hell? I’m sure it’s a part of the 10 commandments or sins or whatever… 

The man. Your knife. 

You killed someone right before dying. 

“What drugs do you like? I got some good connections. We could totally-”

“No! Nonono, no one is going to do that. Say no to drugs! Remember we are trying to get redeemed?” Charlie’s arms wave frantically as she lets out a nervous laugh. 

It was all for protection. You never wanted to hurt anyone like that before, it’s not like you wake up blood thirty for killing. It was self defense. 

Guilt bubbles within your gut, and it’s getting hard to breathe. Would they even care if you killed? You’re sure almost everyone in hell has killed, even in the afterlife. 

“C’mon, toots, tell us a little about yourself. This is about sharing after-all,” Angel teases. “I wanna know all the shit you did when you were alive! You sound like a good time, Y’know my girl buddy would love you-”

“I think that’s enough for today.” A staticy voice interrupts the conversation. Your head swivels to meet the demon who carries a strained smile. The hair on his ears stick up in a frenzy while his claws grip over the top of his microphone cane. 

“But Alastor we barely got star-”

“I think,” Alastors voice grows with static, every word pronounced precisely, “that is enough for today.”

Angel's legs slide off you as he stands to stretch, “Aww what a buzzkill.”

Before you have the chance to leave the room, your face is met with Alastor’s chest. 

He lifts his chin, but his eyes bore down at yours. Your eyes shoot wide with the proximity, and something within his chest spurs as wait for him to speak. 

“I would like to speak with you privately, my dear.”

Following him up the stairs and into his radio tower, you tread lightly in new territory. Papers over his desk are neatly stacked next to a forgotten cup of coffee. The walls are floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pride, you’ve come to know. Dusk stretches the horizon and little dots of light twinkle in the distance over the city. On the other side of the room, old equipment lined the wall. Hundreds of knobs and switches cover the machines and you wonder how he’s able to work such equipment. Speakers, extra microphones sat upon a bookshelf along with books, magazines and other nic-nacs you’re sure he has collected through the years. 

You’re not sure how old the demon is, and you’re not sure how you haven’t thought about it since meeting him, especially when he has taken up most of your mind these past 24 hours. 

You guess he’s from the roaring 20’s? 30’s? He’s dressed sophisticatedly with not a hair out of place. His posture paints him a perfect gentleman in a society where it mattered. His transatlantic accent was smooth and you long to hear it more than you should, or do. And guessing by this set up, the ON AIR sign that hangs directly over his desk, you could be right. 

But what of this demon? What is his story? You’ll put a pin in it and ask angel later-

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here so I’ll cut to the chase.” Alastor’s arms are neatly behind his back as he looks over Pride. Without turning to you, he continues. 

“I’m looking for more help around the hotel. Husk’s job is primarily tending to the bar, Nifty cleans and Charlie is over her head with trying to recruit sinners. I’d like to say that I have everything handled with paperwork and trying to keep this pace afloat, but I don’t.”

Your brows furrow in confusion. He.. can’t handle it all? He definitely gives the calm, cool collected attitude of one who would never need help. 

“So, you need my help? I thought I was just a sinner trying to get redemption?” 

Alastor stiffens for a moment before turning to you. “I thought you should know that Charlie and I had a discussion earlier. We think that you fit into the family seamlessly. We both thought you would be great at helping us with our little project.” He tilts his head, scanning you over, “Unless you don’t want to?” 

You shake your head. This might not be a bad idea. This could actually help you in more ways than one. This could help you more with gaining redemption and be a part of a bigger picture. 

“No, that all sounds great actually. What exactly do you have in mind for me to help you with?” 

“More of the mundane things like checking over the hotel to make sure everything is in order, placing orders for food, toilet paper - the essentials.”

“So the mundane things you don’t want to do?” You laugh lightheartedly. “Sure, Alastor, I can do that for you. Do you have a check list for me?”

In one snap, Alastor conjures up a daily ‘to-do” list for you. Your eyes widen at his magic.

“If you can do that, why can’t you make food and toilet paper appear instead of ordering it?” 

His smile is smug, “It’s a lot more complicated than that, little doe” 

Turning on your heel, you say over your shoulder, “One day, I’d like to properly thank you for the flowers you left me.”

He watches you disappear through the doorway, confusion carved over his face. Flowers? 

What an interesting thing to say… An odd woman. 

Woman. Your presence had been the first in his studio.

Charlie and the guests know that no one is allowed in this room, for it’s locked 24/7. This room is his pride, his sanctuary and the one thing he’s carried on since dying. Besides killing and torturing innocent people, he supposes. 

Clawing at the staff of his cane he shakes the thought of your company being… comforting. 

His ear twitches in frustration. This foreign feeling- this odd hunger for catching your eye in a sea of others, to smell you near has become a twisted form of entertainment. He has to ignore the way his lower belly heats and aches when you're near…Is it entertainment? He stares at the door where you just stood. 

Is his curiosity growing in the little moments you spend together or is it something he can’t pinpoint? His facade will fail to hold if he continues like this. 

A predator assessing his pray like it’s a game. Except, it doesn’t feel like that kind of a hunt. 

-

Stepping out from the bathroom after your nighttime routine, a darkness catches the corner of your eye. 

“Hello?” you call out. 

The darkness in the corner slithers across the floor and manifests itself in the center of your room. 

You curse under your breath, while it’s not the craziest thing you’ve seen, it’s definitely unexpected. 

“Um, hello there…” You stay standing in the doorway of your bathroom. Looking the creature over as it stands tall. 

The creature, no, shadow, is dark, but you can make out that its body is made up of swirling smoke. It’s face gives a chiseled smile, imitating teeth through the smoke, and resting on top of it’s head were a pair of outgrown antlers that stretch wide. 

You tilt your head at the creature, curious on why it hasn’t responded to you. 

It tilts his head back, mimicking your movement. 

“Cute,” you giggle, “what are you?” 

The shadows' eyes glow green in response and gives you a bigger grin. 

“Are you here at the hotel too? I just got here yesterday…” you shift on the balls of your feet. “Do you have a name?” 

The shadow dissipates into the ground and for a moment, you’re spooked. Backing up into your bathroom, a coldness caresses your neck from behind. 

Spinning around fast, you’re met with it again. The creature folds forward to meet your face. 

Oh fuck no. 

You fumble backwards a little too fast but the creature is quick to catch you by an arm. It steadies you easily. 

“You’re.. Good, right? Friend?” The words fall stupidly out of your mouth. You feel like you’re talking to a child in simple words and a sweet voice. God knows that this creature is probably thousands of years old but you’re speaking to it like it lacks some form of intelligence. 

The creature smiles and nods, backing away from you before wisping itself around your body in a cloud of smoke. 

Warmth surrounds your body, unlike the coldness around your neck from before. 

“Friend, okay…good.” You smile and embrace the dance it gives you.

The creature manifests itself over in front of your nightstand and the bundle of shadows steps aside to reveal the red peonies from this morning. Your eyebrows raise and realization hits you.

“That was you? What a lovely gift to give.. To me.” Surprise followed by stupidity hits you in the last bit of that sentence. 

How could you be so stupid to think Alastor would give you those flowers? He hasn’t even spent much time around you, let alone want to speak to you. Every time you’re in the vicinity of him, he pretends you don’t exist. 

Foolish. 

Foolish to think that he would even take a liking to you. 

And you mentioned it to him hours ago… God, he’s probably so confused and you look like a fucking idiot. 

The shadow slumps at your reaction. Its swirls grow faster over its body, like the wheels in its head are thinking of a way to cheer you up. 

Warmth caresses around your hips and playfully drags you to your bed. You let it happen because, for some ungodly reason, you trust this shadow. 

It’s gentle hand lingers over your face, brushing over the skin of your cheek. A familiar feeling. Almost like the feeling of last night when Alastor’s-

No. 

The creature lifts your chin to look at him as he takes a seat by you on the bed and you mentally brush away the cringe.

You both stare at each other for a moment. You're entranced by its odd behavior. Although, its presence feels familiar, a kind of nostalgia you cannot place. His warmth feels like a gentle hug, a friend in the darkness when you're alone. 

The faint smell of whiskey, a bar of soap and lemongrass. 

A warm song that dances inside your nostrils. 

Your room is quiet, as you let the shadow tickle your face and neck. 

Soft music begins to play when your eyes fight sleep. But you give into the lull of the shadows lullaby. 

-

From that first night of meeting the creature, you’re woken up gently by it patting your head and urging you to get dressed. Funny enough, the creature disappears while you get ready, giving you privacy. But ultimately, you wouldn’t mind it at all if it stayed. 

One night, after a particularly hard day working under Alastor, you named the being. 

Umbra.

Not the most creative, but it was the first thing that popped in your head… and he, you’ve come to find out, was quite happy with the new nickname. 

You weren’t sure where he came from, what he is, or what manifested himself to you that night, but you’re thankful for the company. 

Umbra was quiet. He never spoke, but damn is he funny. Every night, he meets you in your room practically bouncing off the walls, or more so sliding everywhere in a mist of shadows and patiently listens when you talk about your day. 

Every morning you wake up with new little flowers over your unoccupied pillow. Each of them a bundle of red, for some reason. But lovely all the same. 

It became a nightly routine to where he’ll lull you to sleep with gentle caresses and soft old-timey music. 

And it’s given you the best sleep of your life. 

Alastor however, has been more distant than before. When asking for new lists everyday, he’ll stare down at you through lowered eyelids and hand you a list bigger than the last. 

He never questioned your flowers comment, but you’re sure he hasn’t forgotten. 

Though, through his aloof attitude, he still invades your personal space when talking to you - and he only talks to you when it’s absolutely needed. His stare burns new holes through you everyday before he locks himself up in his radio tower until dinner or Charlie's group exercises. 

“Smiles has been such a fucking jerk lately, what did you do to’m?” Angel slumps over the armchair, preoccupied with texting. 

“Me? He hardly talks to me! Everyday he’ll just hand me a list to do and disappears.”

“That’s exactly the problem, ever since he’s offered you a job here he’s been acting like there's a stick up his ass more than normal. You must being doin’ shit at your job.” He nudges you and you both laugh. 

“Yeah, no idea. I try to talk to him. He’s the one person in this whole place I don’t even know about… but he ignores me.”

“I don’t think he completely ignores you, doll face. Do you notice how you’re the only thing he can look at when you’re around? Hard to get him to help Charlie lately, too.”

You blush and drag your gaze to the floor. “No, I didn’t notice that. What’s his deal anyways?” 

Angel went into detail about how Alastor wa/is one of the most powerful overlords in the Pride ring. 7 years ago he disappeared or some shit but 7 months ago he came back and randomly ended up here. Some bullshit about wanting to help Charlie with her ridiculous delusions about saving a sinner. He’s just here for the ‘entertainment’, but he’s been a big help honestly. Especially in his battle during the extermination - before he got wounded. 

Wounded? He could get hurt? A powerful overlord who has thousands of contracted souls could get… hurt? But there airs another question…

He doesn’t believe in redemption? 

Your thoughts were cut short by a shadow carrying a mischievous grin lurking in the hallway. Umbra swirls in a mist of shadows as his eyes glow green and gestures for you to follow him. 

Raising from the couch you head his way. 

“Maybe he just needs some good head!” Angel calls out to you.

You follow Umbra as he slithers over the carpet, manifests himself over the walls and guides you upstairs. His cute grin makes you laugh, and you're excited to see what he has in store for you today. 

Not noticing that you pass your own room, your eyes only watching Umbra flee with excitement, he leads you to a door at the end of a hallway. He turns to you, looking you once over and dissipates through the door. 

Knowing you want him to follow, and without a second thought, your hand turns the knob and you fly inside Alastor’s radio room. 

There, hunched over his desk wearing only his long sleeve undershirt and pants, Alastor’s back is turned to you. 

“Who the fuck,” Alastor’s head turns over his shoulder, black eyes blown wide as his red pupils snap to you. 

“Alastor- shit, I’m,” you back away, accidentally shutting the door behind you. 

“Has anyone taught you proper manners? Don’t you know that walking in on someone is-” Every word cuts through you like a knife, the static in his voice grows louder in every syllable. The lights flicker around you as Alastor’s body grows larger in scale, his antlers growing wide. 

“I didn’t know!” You yell honestly, you didn't know. Or, you weren’t paying attention. 

“The door was locked, how did you get in here?” Red liquid oozes out of his mouth as his empty black eyes stare you down. But you’re not looking at the anger on his face, or the way his body engulfs the room. No, you're looking at how his arm covers a wound on his side. Your eyes scan to the side, where ointments and bandages lay askew over his desk. 

“You’re hurt, Alastor.” 

The radio demon stops, and for a moment, you catch surprise painted in his features. 

“Let me help?” You offer, taking a step forward. 

He doesn’t move. 

“Get out.” 

You step forward, unafraid of his form. He's hurt, and you can see the blood squelching against his hand, dripping to the floor. 

You reach out, covering your hand over his bloodied one and your eyes flicker upwards to the beast before you. 

A silent plea to let him help. If he’s been doing this on his own since the extermination, he hasn’t been doing a great job at mending it. 

He gives a frustrated sigh, and shrinks back down to his normal self. Internally rolling your eyes at how easy that was to do… an all powerful overlord listening to you was a confidence booster to say the least. 

You look down to assess the wound. His red undershirt wet and stained with blood on the right side of his torso. 

You flash him a look for silent permission, and he nods ever so slightly, his eyes fixated on your face. You begin to unbutton his shirt from the top down. You scan your fingers delicately over his chest and down towards the wound. Alastor lets out a shaky sigh that goes unnoticed by you. 

You expose his torso more by opening up his shirt to get a better look. Alastor leans back in his chair and curves his hips upwards ever so faintly. You swallow, fighting the demons in your head to take a closer look at his exposed body. 

“Looks… bad.” You manage to say, focusing only on the wound before gentle fingers slide under your chin and angle your face upwards so he can see you fully. 

And you swear, that for a moment, something swirls deep within his gaze. Something more than he lets on. A flash of hope? Eagerness?

Now’s not the time.

You clear your throat before grabbing supplies and getting to work. 

Alastor was silent as you mended him. His eyes never left your face as you cleaned the wound and bandaged it neatly. 

“All better!” You chime, doing your best to ignore the buzz on your chin from his touch, “Next time you try to do this yourself, try to find me? I don’t think it’s healed right for at least a couple weeks. You’re lucky it hasn’t gotten infected.” 

“We’re in hell, dear, I’m sure there’s worse things to worry about than an infected wound.”

He didn’t even bother to say thank you. 

Is this the sophisticated and well-mannered demon Charlie raved about? The helpful demon that made this hotel?

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding and your shoulders shrug downward. 

“Is there a reason why you’ve been so avoidant since I arrived? Everyone has been talking about how you’ve been acting differently since I showed up. Why is that? Did I do anything to you?” You avoid his eye contact by putting away the medical supplies inside a metal box. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dear. I’ve always been the same.” He leans back in his chair. 

Something doesn’t add up. 

“Everyone talks about how you’re this powerful overlord, yet you lock yourself up in this tower all day and night. They all talk about how you were always around and ever since me you’re nowhere to be found.”

“I’d watch your mouth, little doe.” He snarls, but doesn’t move from his chair.

You stand, and for once you’re just taller than him even when he’s sitting down. Stories you’ve heard, the things the other residents say about him - nothing is adding up. Angel even went out of his way to ask what the fuck you did to him to act like this. 

“I can’t help but think that you’re trying to avoid me. Are you scared of me or something? Or do you just like to see me do all of your bitch work so you don’t have to look at me?” 

“And why,” Alastor stands, towering over you. You never realized how much taller and broader he is compared to you. His entire frame engulfs your size. “Would I be scared of a pathetic, weak sinner who died so easily doing something so reckless and ended up here?”

A beat, “I’d go far as to say you’re forgettable in this cesspool. Why would I go out of my way to avoid that?” He hums, lowering to your level at the waist. You want to punch that smug smile on his face. 

You ball your fists and keep his eye contact. You scrunch up your nose and grind out every word with anger, “That’s hilarious coming from someone who did the same. Not so different, you and I.”

You didn’t care enough to see his expression before turning on your heel and head straight to your room.

Sinking onto your bed, you throw your head between your hands with a groan. 

Asshole. Fucking asshole. 

It doesn't take long before a presence in front of you lingers, and a warm caress slithers over your cheek. 

“Not now, Umrba. I’m not in the mood.” 

Umbra’s smokey hand tugs gently at your arm, pulling it forward and causing your head to droop. You allow him to pull you up and into an embrace. 

Scents of whiskey, soap and lemongrass once again fill your head. A lovely haze that you’ve come to cherish. A friend. 

A comfort. 

A beautiful melody fills the air, and swallows you whole. Umbra’s body shakes with a staticy old tune. 

“I’ll never smile again, until I smile at you”  The voices sing a beautiful sorrowful melody, filling the air. Umbra’s arms skate over you and places his hands in yours. 

The stance of a dance. 

Umbra guides your one arm over his back, there he rests the other around your waist. A close embrace that you happily welcome.

“For tears would fill my eyes, my heart would realize…” 

Guiding your hips in a gentle sway, you rest your cheek on his torso. The both of you sway to the melody slowly in your dimly lit room. 

And, like always, the shadow doesn’t say a word. And maybe you like it that way. With all the chaos pounding loudly in your head, Umbra can always grant you the safe space you need. No judgment, no games. 

No words. 

Umbra pulls you around in a dizzying spin on your toes, earning a giggle from you. The music crescendos softly.

“I’ll never love again, I’m so in love with you…”

Guiding you around your room, you follow his lead. Wisps of smoke trail after him and curl at the bottom of your feet. Warmth is all you can feel. 

You’re picked up swiftly and spun like a child before being placed softly in your bed. Umbra continues to play the melody until you are cast away in blissful sleep. 

“Within my heart, I know I will never start to smile again, until I smile at you.”

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