#Daughters of the feather AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skzdarlings · 1 year

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06. sharing a bed series ; skz ; felix

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 6/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. bodyguard au. a dose of angst. open ending. past violence and parental abuse mentioned. ongoing perilous situation and forced proximity. not the healthiest dynamic lol. spanking, some rough play, hair-pulling, throat-grabbing, overstimulation, crying during sex, mention of past unprotected sex, a more dominant felix and a kinda bratty reader.

You kick open your bedroom door. As usual, no one is home except for you and Felix so you are free to scream and curse and stomp all you want.

“I can’t fucking believe you!” you shout among a flurry of other colourful words.

Felix enters behind you with his hands in his pockets, looking as nonchalant as ever.

Felix’s perpetual calmness is half the reason your father hired him. The other reason is that Felix was the best behaved boy in the world who grew into the most pristine, perfect man. Your father did not claw his way to the top of the industrial world by settling for anything less than the best. Lee Felix is the best. Your father trusts him with everything and anything, including wrangling his rambunctious daughter. Felix’s job is to guard and protect you – from others and from yourself. He is annoyingly good at it.

Felix is the prettiest, loveliest, sweetest man on the outside, particularly selected for his unassuming attributes. An obvious bodyguard figure draws unwanted attention. Felix, however, attended high school and college with you, posing as a fellow student and never looking out of place, always appearing gentle and ordinary and kind. Behind that, he is a lethally competent bodyguard. Your skinny, freckled, fair-haired watchdog can subdue any adversary.

Including the one tonight.

“I was just doing my job,” Felix says. He closes your bedroom door and locks it out of habit even though you are home alone. He is still completely uncaring to your crisis, as fucking usual, wandering around like he is a sensitive little lamb, smiling and content.

You throw yourself down on your bed with a dramatic heave.

��You broke his arm!” you cry.

Felix is standing at your desk, removing his work equipment. He is dressed like a civilian for the most part, denim pants with a windbreaker and a button-down over a t-shirt. He lays the jacket over the back of the chair and sighs, looking at his reflection in your vanity mirror. He runs a hand through his hair, still casual, feathering the dyed locks so they flutter back into place.

“I was just doing my job,” he repeats. He undoes the button-down and tosses it aside, then kicks his shoes under the desk.

Felix is all sharp lines and harsh angles, slender but athletic. His cheekbones are high, his angular face softened by his dark eyes and endearing freckles. That sweetness is juxtaposed by the gun harness strapped across his back.

You swallow. The harness hits the floor, then he grabs the back of the t-shirt and yanks it swiftly over his head. It joins the pile of discarded articles.

He sits on the desk chair with a distracted sigh, dutifully disassembling the gun for an inspection or cleaning or whatever nonsense Felix has decided is more important than your conversation.

“His arm,” you repeat. “You broke his arm. He was a completely innocent guy! I’m allowed to flirt with guys! Just because you’re my daddy’s good dog and he doesn’t let you get your dick wet, doesn’t mean I have to suffer too.”

Felix looks at you, his mouth a thin line with his unamused smile.

“Cute,” he says. He drops the smile and his distinctive deep voice drops another decibel when he says, “You can flirt. Just not with him.”

“His arm—”

Felix closes the gun and puts it on the desk.

“I think he was lucky I didn’t rip it off for grabbing you like that, don’t you think?” Felix says. He asks it so nicely too, tipping his head imploringly, like he really wants an answer. Not that he waits. Just as soon as the smile comes, it goes, replaced with a eye roll as he gets to his feet.

“Get ready for bed,” Felix says. “And, mmm, that’s not a request by the way. I’m phoning your dad to tell him we’re home safe.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, just leaves the room while reaching into his back pocket for his phone. He closes the door behind himself, leaving you to fume by your lonesome.

Out of rebellious frustration, you do not budge an inch. You cross your arms and sit back on your bed, still dressed in your evening outfit. You can distantly hear Felix speaking in a formal voice and it makes you twitch with anticipation.

Felix being so professional is simultaneously his most annoying and most attractive quality. Annoying, because he really never falters on the clock. Attractive, because it wouldn’t be any fun pushing him to the boundaries of his rules if he wasn’t such a stickler in the first place.

When Felix returns, still wearing nothing more than his jeans, his expression immediately turns exasperated. He closes the door and puts his hands on his hips, staring down at you.

You stare straight ahead, arms and ankles crossed. You and Felix have shared a bed since the day he was hired, back when you were teenagers, as you were in the habit of sneaking out at night. You were not intimidated by the chubby-cheeked teenage boy, gleefully slipping past him while he slumbered – until suddenly you were being yanked back through the window. You learned the hard way that despite his appearance and disposition, he was an especially skilled martial artist.

As your father continues to accrue enemies in every market, you cannot live life on your own, not without endangering it. You still need Felix. You still share a bed. Everything you do, you do with Felix, whether you like it or not. Felix expresses little feeling on that front, a perpetual font of seeming sunshine when he isn’t breaking someone’s arm.

You know you are being mightily petulant by keeping him up, but you don’t care. If you can’t have what you want then neither can he. You can stay up all night, just staring and glaring at each other contemptuously. You are happy to let all that mutual disdain simmer through its achingly slow burn.

“Really?” Felix says. “Do we have to do this tonight?”

“I’m not doing anything,” you say.

“Right.” He laughs dryly but sits gingerly on his side of the bed. He smiles, his eyes crinkling sweetly with pleasure. His hair is getting longer again, sweeping his neck, and you watch as he delicately tucks some behind his ear. He leans on one arm, looking at you. “I’ll ask you nicely then, sweetheart.”

Ooh, that’s a low blow and he knows it. The word sweetheart always sounds so rich in his mouth, his accent softening the heart of it. Hopefully he misses the way you melt, but you doubt it.

His smile only deepens.

“Please, please get ready for bed,” he says. “It’s been a long day, yeah? And we’re both so tired. Come on. Let’s go. Just need some rest I think. Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

You do not move.

You hear him sigh, a melodic sound. He runs his hand through his hair again.

“All right,” he says, soulfully. “All right. Fine.”

You hear the sharper inflection in his tone but you react a moment too late. Your bed is big, big enough you could starfish without even brushing his side of the bed, so it takes you a second to scamper to the opposite side.

That second is too long. Felix reaches out and grabs you by the calf, dragging you across the bed.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, kicking at him to no avail. “I’ll phone my dad!”

He is completely undeterred by your dramatics, only sighing when he hauls you over his lap.

“Go ahead,” he says. “I’m allowed to use, uhhh, what’d he say… discretion… mm… to discipline you if I think I need to.” He puts his phone within your reach. It is not a genuine gesture of goodwill so much as it is taunting you because you both know your father would take his side. “Well?” he asks. “Do you want to phone him?”

“I hate you,” you say.

“I know,” he replies. “Sorry.”

He sounds like he means it, though it’s hard to believe him when he flicks up your dress and swings his open palm across your ass. His hand comes down four more times before he neatly fixes your skirt again.

“Bed time?” he asks brightly, like everything has been solved with no problem.

You crawl off his lap while grumbling irritably, doing your best to ignore the smarting on your behind when you turn over to glare at him. He is just smiling at you, that thin-lipped way he smiles with dry humour.

“I hate you,” you say again.

He waves his hand, gesturing the vaguest, blandest sentiment of meh with its wiggle.

“I’m just doing my job,” he says for the millionth time.

“Really?” you reply with as much sarcasm as he usually gives. He hears it, tilting his head like a curious cat, as if he has no idea why you could possibly be upset with him – though the stupid little upturn to his lips tells you that he knows exactly why.

You hate him. You really, really do hate him. You have never hated anyone the way you hate him and you want to shout it from the roof. But you can’t do that. You can only say it to his face in private, in whatever way you can.

You reach without warning, cupping the bulge between his legs and finding a lot more than a denim crinkle. His gaze darkens, his hand covering yours warningly, though he doesn’t lift it away.

You adopt a saccharine sweet tone when you speak.

“Do you tell my daddy that when you discipline me you get hard?” you ask, batting your eyelashes.

He moves your hand to his thigh instead, shaking his head.

“Stop being silly,” he says. “Go get ready for bed.”

Your eyes follow him as he stands. He doesn’t get far when you grab his belt loop and tug him back. Felix has fast reflexes and is incredibly coordinated, so you find it hard to believe you sincerely bested him, but he stumbles as if you did. He stands where you want him, where he’s close enough for you to kneel on the bed and press your face right against his bulge.

He says your name in a warning voice, his already deep voice dropping more.

“I wonder…” you say, nuzzling your nose against the ridge in the denim, where you can feel him hard and getting harder still. “When my daddy asks you what we do all day,” you say, flicking your eyes up to his, “do you tell him your dick spends more time in my mouth than in your pants?”

His nostrils flare with his next breath.

You smile, victorious.

“He still thinks you’re his perfect soldier, doesn’t he?” you ask. “You can do no wrong. Little does he know…”

“I do my job,” Felix says. “And I do a good job. Okay? That’s all that matters.”

You start to open your mouth, one hand climbing towards his fly. You stop with a gasp when he fists a chunk of your hair, tugging your head away from him. It sends a hot shock rippling through you, flooding you with the recollection of all the times he grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, the times he cupped your head and put himself in your mouth despite knowing better, the number of times he fucked between your pretty lips and forgot to be proper, cursing so much it was practically poetry.

This time he guides you away and you whimper miserably. He does not loosen his grip, his fingers threading closer to your scalp so it both hurts less and holds stronger. He knows better than to just let go. He knows you perfectly. You glare at him.

“Look at me,” he says, because your gaze dropped to his bulge again. “I said look at me.” He tugs your hair so you obey, giving him your most annoyed expression. “You’re listening, yeah?” he says. He doesn’t wait for an answer. “You’re going to go to your closet. Get ready for bed. Sleep. You’re going to do that,” his voice turns frighteningly pleasant, “or I’m going to carry you over there and get you ready myself.”

“Like when we were leaving the club tonight?” you ask just as sweetly. “And you put me over your shoulder then, oops, something happened when we were in the limo, didn’t it?”

He lets go of you, exhaling tiredly in a high-pitched breath.

“Where did all your pretty rings go, Felix?” you ask, reaching for his bare hand, usually adorned with rings. “Did they fall on the floor in the limo when you decided you had to shove your hand up my skirt?”

Leaving the club, you were both wired. Felix was honestly justified in breaking that guy’s arm. You purposefully chose the creepiest, shadiest guy in the club to lead on, knowing Felix would appear two seconds later to rescue you. He always does. No one else ever pays you any personal attention and your life is too complicated for romance, so you thrive on the feeling of someone caring enough to always find you – even if it’s literally his job.

You also like getting mad at him for overreacting, but you like his overreactions. Him twisting and breaking that creep’s arm honestly turned you on. It also got Felix all worked up, a bit pissed because you were being irresponsible again but nonetheless heated. You thought for sure he’d take you home and go crazy and fuck you in the foyer. Instead he put up the limo divider and one-by-one removed his rings, giving you ample time to refuse before he covered your mouth tightly and slid his other hand up between your thighs.

Of course, despite bringing you to the edge several times, he never let you finish. Because he’s the worst.

And now you’re all worked up and he’s shirtless and being a stupid, pretty, two-faced bitch.

“I—” you start.

He rolls his eyes and says, “I know. I know. You hate me. Now go.”

You get up, stomping all the way to your walk-in closet. You can’t even slam the door because it’s a sliding one, but you make the biggest possible demonstration of closing it anyway.

You get ready for bed. You briefly consider dressing provocatively or even strolling out there naked, but in the end you decide to just dress in your ugly, comfy, over-sized t-shirt and march angrily back into the room.

Felix is gone when you return, probably off to double-check the house security one last time before joining you. You could try climbing out the window and down the terrace, just to be ridiculous, but he’ll catch up sooner than later and be even more annoying about it. So you get into bed and turn off the lights, laying down with a huff, blankets pulled up to your chin.

You get a bit dozy before Felix returns, the creaking door snapping you awake. You look over your shoulder and watch him finally shuck the jeans. He gets into bed in his boxers, removing his earrings once under the covers. He puts on the bedside table, then double-checks his gun is in the drawer, then and then only then does he lay down.

The big bed leaves an ocean of space between you. You roll over to face him. His eyes are closed but there’s no way he is already asleep.

“Felix,” you whisper, even though the big house is empty, “I’m cold.”

“There’s another blanket in the closet,” he says without opening his eyes.

You slide across the bed, close enough to reach out and put a hand on his chest. He opens his eyes and stares straight up.

“I need a cuddle,” you say. “Or I’ll have nightmares.”

“You’re not a child anymore,” he says.

That is maybe one thing you miss about the time before you and Felix started… this. When things were still innocent between you, he would often let you snuggle up with him. Now, he keep his distance. Now, he doesn’t hug or hold you.

So no one does.

“We��re still young,” you say, a dumb argument, but you’re tired and out of ideas.

“I was never as young as you,” he grumbles, more to himself than you. He seems to realize what he said and shakes his head. He pats your hand on his chest then rolls over, leaving his back to you.

You slowly return your hand to yourself, staring at the back of his head with an uncharacteristic prickling of tears.

Felix doesn’t talk about his life before this. You just know that it was somehow worse. Worse than being a watchdog. Worse than giving up years of his life to protect someone else. Worse than the times your father wanted to discipline you but learned that if he hit you directly you would just patch yourself up and move on, but if he hit Felix then you would break down and offer anything to make him stop.

You can see a couple faded scars from those times, faint lines that cross his back, remnants of old belt lashings. You touch one now, tracing your finger lightly from one end to the other. You watch a shiver roll down his spine. He doesn’t turn around.

Giving up, you roll away, back to your distant side of the bed. You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep, but it just makes you well up with tears. You sniffle, rubbing your nose messily on the back of your arm.

Fabric rustles. You suck in a breath when Felix slides up behind you, pulling you into the middle of the bed where he holds you snugly in his arms. You immediately roll to face him, throwing a leg over his hip and burying your face in his neck.

“Sweetheart,” he says, nothing else.

“I hate you,” you say, then press a kiss just under his jaw.

“I know.” He cups the back of your head as your kisses move down his neck. “I know.”

You make it to the middle of his chest before he turns you onto your back and gets up over you. He kisses you properly, thumbs wiping your tears as his mouth makes you forget about the reason you cried at all. All that matters is kissing him back, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him close as possible. His sounds of pleasure are so deep and rough and rumbling.

“Fuck me, please, please,” you say, pushing your fingers into his hair.

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You know we can’t do that,” he says.

“We’ve done it before,” you say, purposefully canting your hips to rub against him, reminding him you are still so hot and wet from his finger-fucking, that only stupid underwear keeps you apart. It has the desired effect, his brow furrowing as he holds himself still above you. You peck his lips and string your arms around his neck. “You know I’m on birth control now for that reason,” you say, a little sweetly, smiling up at him. “Remember?”

He drops his face in the crook of your neck and makes an even crazier sound, shaking his head.

“That was very, very irresponsible of us, you know,” he says.

“Mhm,” you say, sliding your hand down his body to his waistband. “It really was. But it felt good, didn’t it? Dangerous. Coming inside me like that.”

Felix is right; that incident was very irresponsible. You had already started your little cat-and-mouse game and ran out of condoms one night. Because the two of you only have sex with each other, when that happened, you usually just fooled around until he pulled out.

That time was… a lot. You were pressed so tightly together and you were being painfully quiet because you weren’t home alone. It was such a stupid time to mess around, but common sense leaves you when Felix is involved.

That feeling is mutual. Felix knew better too. If he got you pregnant… the fallout with your father would be catastrophic for both of you. Still, for that moment he was inside you, with your fingers laced together and pressed by your head, with your legs tight around him and his face in your neck, nothing else seemed to exist. You were two normal people who were allowed to do whatever they wanted with whoever they wanted. It was a breathless, momentary fantasy, holding him tight and telling him to come, shuddering at the noise he made as he did just that. You didn’t even panic after the fact. You let the moment linger for as long as it could, still pretending you were normal, still pretending it was fine.

You started birth control soon after, telling your father it was to regulate your period. He waved it off, not wanting to hear more.

Your father has truly never suspected a thing. He doesn’t see the people around him as people, just objects, so it makes sense that he sees nothing in Felix but a soldier. He doesn’t know anything about Felix. Doesn’t know the pattern of his freckles or how his eyes crinkle up when he smiles. Doesn’t know he has a sweet tooth and will dump a thing of sugar in nearly everything. Doesn’t know what he finds funny, doesn’t know what makes him sad, doesn’t know anything at all.

You drag your calf up the back of his leg.

“Felix,” you say.

He gives you no chance to say more. One second you are in limbo, the very next he has shoved down both his boxers and your underwear and is already pressing into you. Only nonsense leaves your lips after that, your eyes closing as he works your body like a familiar and well-loved instrument. He knows it as well as you do. As you do his. It’s easy to work him up, to get him as close as you.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, changing position so he’s kneeling. He puts one of your legs up against his chest, levelling you with an amused smile. “You’re trying to get me to finish first,” he says.

“What? Noooo…” Your giggle turns into a gasp. You can be as loud as you want but you bite your fist anyway, hiccupping with a choked back sob of pleasure when he finds an angle that makes you see stars.

“Yes, you are,” he says. “But you won’t win.”

“I will,” you say.

“Uh-uh,” he says. “Sure.”

He makes you come twice before he does. He even starts pushing you towards a third but you are so oversensitive that it makes tears fall. He cups your chin and looks at you, cursing.

“You’re so mean,” you say, smiling through your tears. “Getting off to me crying.”

“I’m—not—I just—”

“Liar,” you tease. “You totally are.”

He just giggles. Then he flips a switch and goes from cute to something else, grabbing your throat and fucking into your oversensitive pussy so good and hard that you cry out.

“Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he says. “Got you. Got you. I—”

You kiss him and he comes, sinking into you with dick and tongue and breath, filling you and surrounding you.

You hold him close, arms tight around him, his sweaty forehead pressed to yours. When he tries to lift away, you pull him back, making him laugh softly.

“Stay,” you say, and repay his torture by squeezing him inside you, knowing it will make him twitch and jerk with oversensitivity of his own.

“You never make it easy for me, do you,” he says with no animosity.

You shake your head and smile like you’re proud of that. He laughs then kisses you. The kiss is good and thorough and sweet, completely loving, affectionate. It gets your heart racing despite everything you just did. You rest your hands on his chest and gently push him back.

“I still hate you,” you say, because you have to say it, because the opposite would be too dangerous to ever say. You can’t even let that word enter your thoughts, certainly never let it leave your lips. If you held that word in your mouth for even a second, you would become addicted to it. So you glare at him with all passion you can muster and say, “I hate you so much.” You sniffle when he wipes your tears away. You turn your face. “I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone.”

“I know,” he says in a strained voice. He presses his forehead to your temple and exhales. “I know, sweetheart.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix smut #felix x reader #skz x reader

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sweetie-peaches · 3 months

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Qsmp apartment au but something is slightly off about everyone there

• those in the complex has built a bit of community around each other, they’re all close. All connected in some way, and they turn a blind eye to others adnormalities

• Tubbo, the local biological engineer (or that’s what he says he is) never actually says where he works. Or who keeps him and Sunny living comfortably in their apartment, with Sunny getting new and fancy clothes almost every week.

• the basement of the complex is blocked off to residents, yet they swear they see Tubbo toting what looks like medical supplies and machine parts to it in the early hours of the morning.

• residents claim to see Phil standing on the roof some time, a weird shadow behind him, he leaves a trail of feathers wherever he goes, despite never seeming to have anything with feathers on him.

• missa who’s skin is always cold, who seems to come and go, like some kind of ghost or reaper

• if you watch closely you’ll see a little girl running up and down the hallways at night, don’t make her notice you though. Charlie is the only one she likes, he’ll talk to her and play with her as though she’s his lost daughter

• BadBoyHalo is the kindest resident, he bakes muffins for the kids and parents regularly, though he does have a mischievous side to him. Try not to shuffle things around too much in his apartment though, you’ll see the sigils carved into the floor and that’s no fun for anyone is it?

• things in the complex disappear sometimes. Don’t worry about it. They’ll come back, if you have to leave your apartment late at night, pretend the ceiling isn’t the floor, and the floor isn’t the ceiling. Step around lights, don’t acknowledge it, you’ll be okay.

• if you see the eyes the eyes see you. Run. Don’t come out, for the sake of everyone and everything you love don’t fucking come out.

Feel free to add more!!

#peaches posts #qsmp qosts #qsmp #qsmp tubbo #qsmpblr #tubbo #qsmp missa #qsmp philza #qsmp slimecicle #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp au #tw unreality #<- adding this because it does get towards it at the end #I apologize for not adding it before

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softlyspector · 9 months

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Decaf

Summary: After your first tattoo session with Joel, you can't stop thinking about him or, his touch. And it terrifies you.

Read Honeyed first where: You put aside your touch aversion for a tattoo from Joel.

Pairing: tattoo artist!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: ~10.1k

Warnings: a smidgen of angst for fun 😌 then comfort, slow build, no outbreak tattoo!au, the 'believes they're hard to love, loving them is like breathing' trope, reader has issues with touch and is mostly touch adverse (joel's workin' on that though), tattoos and getting tattooed (the process isn't really described), description of a past abusive relationship and a bad experience getting tattooed, undefined unresolved previous trauma, insecurity, anxiety, loneliness, Joel gets to have both his daughters in this

A/N: This is dedicated to all of you who are also touch adverse. I hope you like this part as much as the first, and feel seen and heard. I love you and thank you for being so kind and open with your love and your own experiences. May you find the patience and love you deserve in your own Joel.

Once again, we’re ignoring canon and pretending like Joel can draw for this fic, thank you. Editing this was a labor, so if there are any mistakes blame my tired eyes. Thank you for reading! As always, I would love to know your thoughts! Please please please, be sure to leave feedback!

Joel doesn’t want to walk you home, though he figures he should.

It’s the polite thing to do. The kind of thing his mother and grandmother raised him to do.

And it's got nothing at all to do with prolonging this very long day with you. No, nothing so self serving and selfish as that.

His little doe he’d lured so close, still so out of reach with hidden tattoos not on her hip. It’s scary, the want that wells up in him, the desire to see you step that much closer to him, until you feel safe enough to nestle in his shadow.

If you were the deer, he should be the tree, the shade, the haven.

Rage, incandescent and warm and comforting in its familiarity, wells up in his chest again when your earlier admission plays through his mind.

Nothing brings his anger, quick and deadly, like those he cares for being harmed. Rarely did he see cause for it to break the surface—not since Sarah was born and he had a better example to set, not since Tommy calmed down and stopped getting in so many fights.

This, though, with you—the thought of you being harmed, brings it all rushing back. He hopes to never lay eyes on your ex, for everyone’s sake.

I had bruises for a couple weeks after, you’d said. It hurt. He wanted it to hurt.

Those words had stung on their own, but then you’d continued.

I think he wanted to brand me. He wanted to leave a piece of himself on me, whether I wanted it or not.

It grates on him, that anyone could hurt you that way, that anyone would even think of it, and get away with it.

You’re happily finishing the last bite of the quartet of tacos he’d gotten you, unaware of the turmoil that drags taunting claws into the fleshy parts of his chest.

You nod along to the Cash song still playing over the outdoor speakers, though now at a much lower volume as the night wanes later, a content expression on your face.

He likes watching you eat, likes it even better knowing you’re eating something he got you. It satisfies something weirdly primal in him.

The side of your leg is still pressed to his, warm and pliant even through two layers of denim. The buzzing flaxen glow of the sting lights halo over your head; it casts your face in shadow, the long feathers of your lashes spiking down your cheeks.

You seem more relaxed now. The tension in your shoulders has loosened, the crease between your furrowed brows gone as you ball up the used napkins and toss them into the little paper boat the tacos had been on.

He refuses the last few sips of lemonade, and so you drink the rest instead.

“Well,” you say, your voice a little sheepish and shy, that soft round look coming back into your eyes. He imagines you with the twitching, sensitive ears of a doe, poking through your hair, alert and suddenly wary of the extended hand you’d been so trusting of minutes before. “I should probably let you go. It’s late.”

You say it like you think you’ve been keeping him there, taking up his time that he’s eager to get back.

But you haven’t, and he isn’t ready to let you go.

“I’ll walk ya home.”

“It’s alright,” you say dismissively, gathering the trash and standing before he can do it for you. “I’m only a couple of blocks over,” you say over your shoulder as you walk away.

“I’d feel better if you let me,” he admits, following close behind you.

You toss the trash and then turn back to him, nervously running your palms along your thighs, eyes flicking over him. “This is a safe little town, you know,” you reassure him. “Like, I’m pretty sure my neighbors don’t even lock their door.”

Joel blinks. “But you lock your door, don’t ya?”

An inexplicable smile pulls your mouth up at the corners. “Yeah, Joel, I lock my door.”

“Good,” he says gruffly, shoving down the protective feeling that had been rising in his chest. It’s an insane feeling, one that sets something he thought long dead on fire within him.

You just watch him for a moment, knowing eyes sliding over him. “Well,” you relent and jerk your head toward one of the side streets. “I’m this way, if you’re sure you have time.”

Like time had anything to do with it.

He gestures you ahead of him, his eyes falling down the curve of your spine, the shape of your hips and thighs. He’s still trying hard not to think about the bumblebee and the antlers tattooed somewhere on your body, all the parts of you he hasn’t seen.

He’s trying hard not to think about a lot of things.

Like how your skin felt under his hand, dewy and warm. How he’d spent most of the day with his hand covering yours, the hummingbird beat of your pulse against his fingertips.

He’s trying not to think about how good you smelled that close, raw and unfiltered, how irritated he had been when the sharp smell of disinfectant had chased it away.

You carried the smell of summer with you wherever you went, like sunshine and coffee, iced sugar and coconut.

He walks with you through the navy darkness in silence, the flash of amber street light the only thing illuminating your way. It feels nice. He feels like the rest of the world has turned its face away, that it's only you and him and the ghostly eyes of the white glow of the moon peeking through the quickly dissipating clouds.

The Texas dry heat would be back with a vengeance in the morning, but for now the street is pleasantly humid. The air still smells like petrichor, like damp concrete. He should savor it. Tomorrow, the blindingly hot smell of asphalt and dust will return and chase this moment in the dark with you away.

You seem almost better suited to the dark, to the quiet smooth pleasantness of it, like your fear can’t reach you there if it can’t see you, if you can’t see it. Like a prey animal that only ventured into the safety of night.

So he lets the silence last, because it's comfortable, and he’s never been one to fill silence with unnecessary chatter anyhow.

He can’t remember the last time he did something like this, felt the brush of someone else’s fingers through the dark and the accompanying zing it sent up his arm. He forgot how amplified everything could feel, especially in the low light.

The walk to your apartment is short.

You only live a few blocks from the center of town, and only a few streets over from the studio. He imagines you walking this path each day with the intention of coming to see him, with the intention to walk by the studio, even before you knew him—in the sun, all summer.

You live above the town’s sole bookshop. It’s cute, like the rest of the town is. It’s unbelievable how idyllic the town is, like it’s cut straight from the pages of a romance novel, or one of those shitty Hallmark movies.

He stands just outside the circle of the security light that blinks on over the door. You fiddle with the lock for a solid minute, jiggling the knob just so and then twisting the key in a pattern that you seem to know well, until it finally yields and opens.

Joel clears his throat. “Y’need someone to look at that?”

You don’t seem to hear the question mark tagged onto the end of the question, or to realize that he’s offering to fix it. “Yeah, I know,” you roll your eyes. “I’ve asked my landlord to look at it a couple of times already but they haven’t gotten around to it—”

“I can take a look for you sometime,” he clarifies. “It won’t take but a minute—”

“That’s alright, Joel,” you interrupt quickly and dip your head, embarrassed suddenly. “I’ve let you do way too much for me today. Everyday.” Before he can contradict you—because he isn’t sure what the hell you feel he’s done for you, you step back through the door and hover there in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot.

The security light casts your face in harsh shadows, the dark stairwell behind you reaching black claws out to hook around your frame.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. You just linger there, fidgeting with your keys, looking for all the world like you have something you want to say to him, like you don’t want him to go either.

Joel watches you, waiting for you to say something, to be the one to sever the connection between you and say goodnight. His chest feels tight as he waits for you to decide, waits for you to decide his shade was a place you could be safe.

Besides, he’s still trying to figure how to say goodbye to you, still trying to figure how he’s supposed to pry apart the sticky want that thrums against his skin. Still trying to figure out what exactly had gotten into him, what had gotten into him in the weeks and months you’d started coming by.

He supposes it's just been a long time. He supposes he’s just out of practice at having feelings for someone.

It’s been just him and his girls and his brother for so long.

He must take too long trying to figure things out because you smile at him and glance away, your expression apprehensive and unsure. “You will let me get you back for the tacos someday,” you warn softly. “‘Night.”

Then you shut the door. He hears you bang up the steps, your footfalls fading until he can’t hear them anymore. The security light flickers out and he’s plunged into semi-darkness, but he doesn’t move until a light finally comes on in one of the upstairs windows a few minutes later, the silhouette of your body outlined behind a sheer curtain.

It’s only then that he turns away and walks back the way he’d come. He smiles to himself and then feels stupid about it.

He’s too old, he thinks again, for his chest to be twinging the way it is, to be smiling in the dark, and missing someone he just left.

He’d see you tomorrow, anyway.

Just as he always did.

Just like you always do.

Joel is distracted the day after your appointment.

Your scent lingers in the air of the studio. He mistakes every shadow that passes the front window for you. The image of you under the soft light in the center of town is imprinted behind his eyes. The way you’d smiled, the feel of your skin under his fingers—soft and damp in the humid air that had ballooned after the day’s rain, consumes his every thought, has his eyes shifting to the front window every few seconds. His back gives an unpleasant spasm from how quickly he turns at even the slightest noise, always thinking it's you finally pushing the door open.

But he sees more than your shadow and the ghost of your silhouette in the window.

Joel sees all the imagined, soft skin under your clothes where an antler tattoo is hidden. Untouched, unexplored skin that he would very much like the chance to explore and touch, if ever you gave him the chance, if you ever wandered that close.

It’s a fine idea.

That you’d come into the studio and lean against the counter and watch him work on a design for someone that isn’t nearly as important as you are.

But, the day wears on, and you never show up.

The day after Joel tattooed you and bought you sugary lemonade and tacos under golden light that you etched divine, you don’t stop in.

You don’t even walk by.

It isn’t unusual for you to go a few days between visits to the studio. He tells himself that it’s normal, fine, that you have a job and a life and that sometimes you don’t get the chance to come by. He tries not to worry about it.

On the second day, with your image still fluttering behind his eyes, the weight of your gaze still heavy on his skin, he starts sketching another design for you. It distracts him, at least, because you don’t come in on the second day, either.

You don’t come in the day after that either, or the day after that. His girls stop by for dinner on Friday evening, and Ellie crashes on his couch for the night to help out in the shop the next day. All that Saturday, all he can think about is you, pushing the door open slowly, pausing in the entryway like you always do with watchful eyes, skin shimmering with sweat from the sun and heat, cups of coffee in hand, one for you and one for him, just like always.

He imagines you smiling at him, your shoulders loosening when your doe eyes land on him, the uncertainty and trepidation melting away because it’s him. Because it’s just him. It’s just the two of you.

But the image, the fantasy, never comes to fruition.

Ellie snaps at him around noon to stop being so fucking weird, dude.

Sundays—the shop is closed, so he doesn’t see you then.

By Monday, five days after he tattooed you and walked you home in the dark, as the sun sets on a ragingly warm evening, Joel is convinced that you aren’t going to come by the studio anymore.

He keeps working on your new design.

Then, a whole week goes by, and then another, and you still don’t drop by, you don’t even walk by, though he catches a few glimpses of you down the road—in front of the boutique, the coffee shop, the record store a few doors down. He sees you at the farmer’s market that pops up every Saturday in the town’s center.

He dreams of you, dreams of the willowy, softly plush curves of your body. Joel dreams of you at home with him, in his bed. He dreams of pushing your shirt up, palming every delicate part of you, tracing his fingers over your hidden tattoos.

He always jolts awake when the dream version of you pushes him back and kisses him hard, his hands cupped around you, your thighs, your breasts, the dip of your waist and belly.

It’s distracting, the ghost of you everywhere he looks. He can’t even bring himself to take your painting down from the front window. The doe you don’t see yourself in.

Adjusting to your absence is hard. He hadn’t realized you’d wormed your way into his daily life so firmly, like an invasive species the environment grows around, and turns when it's taken away.

In one particularly low moment two weeks on, he takes a stroll a few blocks over, worried that something might have happened to you, that something might be keeping you away. He sees you inside the bookstore you live above, newly purchased novel in hand, feet curled beneath you on a sofa in the window.

You seem fine, though an inexplicable twinge of jealousy plucks at his heart. He never thought that you might hang around the other shops like you did with his.

And you never come by.

You don’t owe him anything, certainly not your company.

He resigns himself to not seeing you until your second session, when he’ll finish your tattoo and probably never see you again.

Joel scares you.

His hand lying over yours all day; his offer to fix your door; the way he looked at you intense and heavy and waiting, wanting—it all terrifies you.

The words to invite him up for something to drink had sat heavy in your mouth before you changed your mind and left him where he stood. You’d bothered him enough, taken up enough of his time.

You aren’t sure what southern manners had led him to take you to get tacos and lemonade but surely he’s had enough of you.

I’ve let you do way too much for me, you’d said. And he hadn’t disagreed.

Instead, you lurch up the stairs, let yourself into your apartment and stand breathing hard in the dark entryway, back against the door. Your forearm aches just a little, but in the pleasant way it always does after getting tattooed, instead of in the painful, raw way the one from your ex had.

The familiar itch below your skin that had started with Joel’s art is now overwhelming, because you know what the shape of his hand feels like. You know the precise weight of his palm over the back of your hand, and against the column of your spine. You can’t forget how his jean clad thigh felt against yours, how nice the brush of his fingers had been through the dark.

His voice was so low and graveled when it brushed against your skin, it tingled through your whole body, down to your toes, to the pit of your belly. It was low and intimate and felt like everything he said was just for you, like it had brushed against every tiny hair on your body.

I’m not markin’ you, because it's not mine. It’s yours. It’s for you.

They were words for you, special for you, reassuring to you, spoken so kindly and in defense of you against someone he would never meet, over something that was not his fault and that he hadn’t been around yet to prevent.

There’s a kinetic energy under your skin that burns, like pages of your story with him are already set aflame. Don’t burn this bridge, you think and lean hard back into the door. You close your eyes and tangle your fingers together, squeezing so tight it hurts, until you pinch your skin. Please don’t let me burn this bridge.

You like Joel, more than you have any right to. He feels safe and sure and solid; he’s kind. He scares you, but in a way that makes you want to claw your way through the dark back to him, to see if he’ll touch you again, speak low and kind just for you, work on art made just for you.

When you finally catch your breath, you flip on the lights and toss your keys down as you cross your small apartment. You scrub a hand over your face and take a deep breath from between your fingers.

A moment later, you pluck up the courage to glance out the window, just in time to catch Joel’s broad shoulders turn the corner in the distance back onto Main Street.

Something in your chest pangs, the strings of your heart pull tight and hard up against your lungs until your throat closes.

The feelings he planted in your chest, nestled among your ribs and wove between your veins, seem unfair. It seems horribly unfair, harsh even, that you should be left with the tips of your fingers smoldering, hesitantly reaching out for more.

He’s left a sea inside you, a lonely dark hole. You knew it was there, that black, open emptiness. You’d felt it all your life, but now you know what it feels like when someone sees it, shrugs, and asks to be a part of it. You know what it's like, now, to have someone stand, patient and still on the shore.

He’s left you wanting, craving something that you’ve feared for so long, that always felt wrong. And when your skin started to go tight and your muscles contracted and pulled, he’d somehow known, heard the pain buried away, and released you.

You can still feel the ghost of his knuckles brushing against your wrist on the dark walk to your apartment. You can feel his thigh against yours while you ate tacos together and listened to the folks of your small town laugh and dance to old country music. You can feel his palm cupped around your wrist, dwarfing your hand beneath his.

You can still feel his calloused fingertips, catching at your palm and the inside of your wrist.

He makes you feel safe and seen, like it’s okay that you lingered in his studio for weeks, bothered him endlessly, without any guarantee that you might one day schedule an appointment and actually get tattooed.

You thought the wantneedpull would subside after finally starting the tattoo but its only gown. The pain you waited for, the urge to flee from your own body never came with him. You want him closer, want the warm rough press of his palm against yours. You just want—you’ve never really wanted anyone closer but you want him closer.

You want Joel so close that nothing else bleeds through. You want to melt into the palms that cupped you so gently, so carefully.

You want to become carefully molded wax in his capable hands.

Inexplicably, for the first time in so long, you want someone to touch you. You want to feel Joel’s hands everywhere, anywhere he could reach and even all the places he couldn’t.

And it terrifies you.

You mean to go back to your normal routine, but the first morning you try to stop by the studio, you can’t make your feet carry you there. You pause halfway between the coffeeshop and the studio, Joel’s usual order clutched in your hand.

The gnawing, empty, raw hole inside you has only grown. You look at your pretty tattoo and think of the gently rough hands that had created it, the furrow between his brows while he worked, the scar over his nose, the strong, broad slope of his shoulders, and you feel anxious.

You want it so badly, and yet—

He’s just your tattoo artist. He probably only put up with you hanging around his shop everyday, bringing him coffee, talking his ear off, because there was the promise of money, the promise of work.

You’d just done the stupid thing and gotten attached to him, to the studio, to your fucking tattoo artist. You are just a client and you long to melt into him. You long to press yourself against him, feel the crush of his body against yours.

That want makes you wary, phantom pain, phantom aversion crawling beneath your skin right after.

It makes your head spin, it makes you feel crazy, that you can’t even decide what you feel, what you want.

It’s better if you stay away, give yourself time to forget the itch, forget the feel of his hands, so you turn away and circle the block, back to your apartment where you set the cups on your kitchen counter and take a deep breath.

Your chest is tight, your mind a snarl of half formed thoughts.

Tomorrow, you think, will be better.

But it’s not.

Each day you think about going over, and you don’t. You feel wound tight, like clockwork left to rust. You dream of Joel, his hands everywhere and nowhere, the warmth of him like a ghost you can’t shake off.

The feelings you try to avoid, the desert dryness of need and emptiness that the loss of his touch inspired, doesn’t go away. It gets worse; it outweighs the fear, the aversion.

You only dare to go as close as the record store, checking he was still there, like the whole place would suddenly disappear if you stopped going by, like a witch’s cottage after a botched, half-worked spell.

You feel cursed, like soot, like a monster waiting to steal the soul of the light.

You’re burning your bridge and you don’t know how to stop.

Joel is still there, where he’s always been. His art is still there, though you’re so far away now, you can’t see it clearly anymore.

But you notice among the still ever rotating collection of art and pictures in the window, one always remains.

You know without seeing it that it's the painting of the doe looking over her shoulder, bees flocking like long forgotten gods around her ears.

Ellie and Sarah ask about you on the third Friday that goes by without you stopping in.

The temperature has cooled off a little, the warmth of summer receding just the tiniest bit. The kitchen table is laden with chinese takeout boxes, rice already spilled across one of the placemats.

“You haven’t been talkin’ about her so much,” Sarah notes curiously.

“Yeah, and you’ve been way more cranky than usual,” Ellie adds.

“Ain’t had cause to see her,” he deflects, reaching for the yet un-spilled carton of rice. “Hasn’t been in the studio since her first session.”

The kitchen suddenly falls silent, the clatter of cutlery deadened as it’s set on the table. “What do you mean?” Sarah, he thinks, sounds mildly offended on his behalf.

“Just what I said,” he grumbles.

He doesn’t need to look up from his plate to know Sarah and Ellie are exchanging a look. “Why not?” Sarah ventures to ask, her tone calmer.

Joel shrugs and finally looks up at his kids. Sarah’s head is tilted to the side ever so slightly and Ellie’s brow is furrowed. “Busy, maybe,” he explains. “Got better things to do.”

“Bullshit!” Ellie explodes suddenly. “What happened? Did you do something stupid?”

He sighs hard through his nose and shovels orange chicken onto his plate with more force than necessary. “No.” Then he reconsiders, goes over every moment of that day again in his mind. How much he touched you, selfishly, when he knew you were adverse to it. “I don’t know. Could be she was only around this summer to see if we’d make a good fit.”

There’s another beat of silence before both girls are arguing with him. He lets them go on protesting it for a few minutes before he waves them down. “She’s got a lot goin’ on that you two don’t know. Somethin’ might’ve spooked her that I didn’t realize.”

“Like what?”

Your ex-boyfriend and your badly healed tattoo flashes through his mind. The bruises you said you’d had for weeks afterward, how badly it had hurt. The way he’d held onto you all that day.

Guilt pools in his chest, floods his lungs.

He doesn’t know what might have spooked you.

Just hopes it wasn’t him.

“Well, have you tried to talk to her?”

Sarah peers at him with wide eyes, fingers delicately folded around a pair of chopsticks. “No,” he admits.

Ellie makes a discontent noise. “Just fucking talk to her, man,” she says.

“You always do this, dad,” Sarah says suddenly, shaking her head.

“I do not—I don’t—” he stammers. When was the last time he’d had the opportunity to fuck something up? “What are you talkin’ about?”

They both shrug. “It’s like you don’t ever wanna be happy sometimes. She makes you happy and you always think of everybody else, it's okay to think of yourself sometimes. Maybe whatever’s going on with her doesn’t have anything to do with you. Not everything is your fault.”

He can’t figure a way it's not about him, though, that it might not be his fault.

Joel clears his throat and looks down at his plate. “All right, tell me what you two’ve been up to this week.”

“Hey Joel.”

Joel glances up, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. You’re distorted in his vision for a moment before he reaches up to take them off.

Your shape comes into sharp relief, a balm after not seeing you for so many days. You look cheerful, happy to see him.

Excited, even.

He hasn’t seen you in a month.

You’d messaged back and forth with his kid about your appointment, about today.

He hasn’t heard your voice in a month.

Seeing you now, despite thinking about you, dreaming about you everyday, makes some part of him close off, go cold and hard. “Howdy,” he says, his voice toeing the edge of polite and flat. The smile on your face fades a little.

Though the sunshine is bright as always, the air outside is chilly for Texas. You’re wrapped in a sweatshirt. For the first time since he’s known you, all of your tattoos are hidden, most of your skin is covered.

You blink owlishly, your fingers flexing nervously around the cups in your hands. “I brought you coffee,” you offer.

He makes a noncommittal noise and jerks his chin towards the door behind the counter. “C’mon, I’m already set up.” Joel turns.

“Oh,” you say, your voice following him to the back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I was late.”

“You aren’t,” he grumbles softly. “Had another client this mornin’,” he says, needlessly adjusting and straightening the supplies he had set out, keeping his back to you.

He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to get through this with you—ain’t sure how he’s supposed to make sense of how much it hurt that you’d stopped hanging around. There’s a feeble little thread of hope in his heart that you’ll explain it away, that you even noticed you’d changed your routine. A tiny, weak little thing that makes him hope you thought about him too.

Stupid.

That painful tug of hope makes him feel like a teenager, like an idiot kid who read into every little thing like it was a sign until reality started to distort.

He’s always been that way, hopeful and goddamn stupid. It’s why he hasn’t really been with anyone since Sarah’s mother left. It’s how he got tangled up with Sarah’s mom in the first place. He gets stupid when he thinks he feels something, and he’s never been good at figuring how to hold onto something like that, something so delicate.

He always ends up loving too hard, too much. He always crushes the thing before it has a chance to bloom. His girls, they were his only exception, the one thing he was mostly good at taking care of.

“Guess the coffee was a stupid move, huh?”

Joel turns at the sound of your voice, pulled away from the half self-deprecating thoughts floating through his mind, and finds you hovering awkwardly in the doorway, fingers fidgeting anxiously around the cups. You look like you did the first time you came into the shop, stiff and unsure, wide eyes peering at him like you’re waiting for him to give you a reason to run.

The doe waiting for the snap of the twig beneath a hunter’s boot once again.

Something twinges in his chest, the sharp pain slicing through bone and tendon.

He doesn’t want to be the hunter to your doe.

“No,” he straightens, making an effort to soften his voice. “‘Course not.”

You step cautiously closer, extending one of the cups toward him. “Well, it kinda is.” You smile a little. “You won’t be able to drink it while you work, contamination and all. I just—I was on autopilot again, I guess.”

He takes it from you, the paper cup warm in his hand, and tries not to think about how autopilot for you meant unthinkingly buying a cup of coffee for him.

Again, you’d said. Have you done it before? Accidentally bought coffee he never received?

“Well, thank you, sweetheart.”

You swallow and glance away, nodding at the ground instead.

A long silence stretches between you, and unlike all the times you came into the studio before—it's awkward and heavy. He takes a sip of the coffee and finds it sours instantly in his stomach, mixing unpleasantly with the nerves.

Yeah, he’s exactly like a damn kid.

And he’s not good at this. He’s never been good about bridging silent gaps.

Not with words, anyway.

It doesn’t help that you seem to take up the whole room, the smell of sun and coffee and leaves curling on the air.

He sets the cup aside and goes about washing his hands instead. “Go on and get comfortable,” he directs over his shoulder. “Just like before.”

When he’s done scrubbing his hands in the sink and putting on gloves and fighting the urge to inhale the scent of you penetrating every cubic inch of air in the room, he turns to find you sitting and stripping out of your sweatshirt.

He inhales sharply when the shirt beneath lifts with the material, exposing him to a strip of your skin. You tug it back down, hiding skin that he’s dreamed of in the last three weeks, that he’d like to tease his fingertips along, if you let him, if he could lure you that close, convince you to trust him that much.

It seems like a fucking pipe dream now.

You look soft and rumpled as you fold the sweatshirt, fisting your hands anxiously around the edges of it in your lap.

The tendons in the back of your hands flex, bone straining against the flesh. You’re tense, nervous.

“You’re alright,” he drawls, despite himself. The words come out soft, and your shoulders loosen and slump as you release a breath. Whether you stopped coming around or not, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. “C’mere and lemme see it.”

You offer your arm to him and Joel takes your wrist in his hand, just like he had the last time he’d seen you. He’d touched you a lot that day, and you had let him. You’d let him touch you even after you left the studio and he hadn’t had a good excuse to keep doing it anymore.

Now, he relishes the feel of your delicate skin against his again.

“Looks good,” he says, stepping unconsciously closer to you. “Healin’ good anyway.”

You glance up, the side of your knee brushing against his thigh. Warmth radiates from your body, and settles into him in the invariably cold studio. A smile tugs at your lips and the tension disappears from your forehead. “You’re allowed to compliment your own work, you know. It’s beautiful. Probably my favorite.”

He doesn’t answer, fighting the clawing ache in his chest. “I do okay, I guess,” he concedes, turning your arm. “Just glad I didn’t hurt ya.”

You frown but don’t say anything as he goes through the motions of cleaning your skin and settling in on the stool next to you. You settle back in the chair, a cloud of your scent caccooning both of you, undercut by the annoyingly sharp smell of the disinfectant.

He covers your hand and squeezes the tight fist your hand curled into until you release the tension and relax. “Good,” he murmurs. “Good job.”

You chest hitches and you glance over at him, the movement sharp, but he doesn’t look back at you and you don’t say anything.

It’s quiet for a long time, just the buzz of the tattoo gun to keep him company.

He wonders what it is you’re thinking about. Though your body remains loose, the furrow between your brows is pinched tight in thought.

Joel doesn’t bother you, focused instead on his work, on monitoring the flex of your hand beneath his. He doesn’t strictly need to touch you like this, but he wants to, and it seems like you don’t mind.

At least, you hadn’t minded a couple weeks ago.

Maybe that’s what has your forehead so scrunched up. Maybe—

“I didn’t think you would.”

He glances up, those big eyes he sees in his dreams staring down at him. “What’s that?”

“I didn’t think you would hurt me. I mean—really, I’ve only had one bad tattoo experience,” you say with a roll of your eyes, dismissive of your own pain, like that’s not one too many times. “The rest of my—the rest of my issues are mine. Even from before that happened.” You don’t look away from him. “Besides, Ellie assured me beforehand that you have a light touch.”

Yeah, he thought he’d heard her saying that. He’d been both embarrassed about it and warmed.

“Well, I guess she’s right. Never had any complaints.” He leans back and takes his hand off of yours, flexing his fingers and stretching out the pinch in his spine.

One thing he did not relish about tattooing was the way he had to be hunched over. It makes him feel achy and old even if he knows it’d be much worse if he was still working with Tommy.

You nod and fidget with the hem of your shirt with your free hand. He watches you for a long moment, still not saying anything.

Even though things are a little awkward, he feels better, having you there again; knowing for sure that you’re okay because he’s seeing you with his own eyes. His kids might be right, that it’s all right to think of himself for once. Or, as Ellie put it, to just fucking talk to you instead of making assumptions.

“You ain’t been around much lately,” he offers, extending that metaphorically slow hand to you as he always has, asking for the nugget of whatever truth you held onto so tightly.

Maybe it was never about him, just as Sarah had said.

He looks away from your eyes, goes back to tattooing your arm, filling in your piece, the design he’d worked on for a whole summer. Just for you.

The tattoo suits you. He feels an odd kind of pride that you liked his art enough to trust him with designing something, with putting it onto your skin, and your trust is something he never could have hoped for.

“No,” you start, your voice a bit hoarse. “I guess not. I—I just figured that I didn’t have an excuse to stop by anymore.” You pause and swallow. Your voice is clearer when you speak again. “And you’d already been so nice about me taking up your time.”

Joel has to pause again and glance up, just to judge your expression. To see if you’re serious.

You aren’t looking at him, but staring at the far wall as though the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen is etched there. Your features are tense, like you’re trying not to show what you’re feeling. “Taking up my time?”

You shrug, the easily startled anxiety threading back into your eyes. “And,” your voice is shaky as you continue. “I was a little—I don’t know. Afraid. I guess.” Something must show on his face, the swoop of his gut visible on his features because you hurry to explain. “I just…I’ve never trusted someone the way I think I trust you. So. That’s scary.”

There’s a lot of things he could say, a lot of things he should say, but Joel isn’t exactly good at that kind of thing. He just knows he hates when you look at him with trepidation and weariness.

So instead, he covers your hand again and squeezes tight. He refocuses on your tattoo, on the transformation of your skin. He isn’t sure what to make of what you’d said about trust, or your honesty about it, so he pushes down the feeling that wells up into his gut at that admission. “Well, it ain’t no trouble. Havin’ you here. It was mighty quiet without you around.”

It’s hard to say, somehow, the words sticky and catching in his mouth. A quiet descends in the wake of his words, the low buzz of the tattoo gun driving him crazy. He wishes you’d say something, anything, but he doesn’t have the heart to look up and see if you’re looking at him with big, startled eyes.

“Oh,” you say eventually, softly.

And then—“It was quiet for me too. I missed coming by. Why didn’t you ask after me? Ellie could have gotten to me.”

Joel had considered it. He’d figured you’d had good reason to stay away. And he guesses you had, just not the ones he thought.

It hadn’t been about him, really.

“You’re real skittish,” he settles on telling you the truth. “Didn’t want to push you further than you’d already gone.”

He nods, wipes your skin gently with a damp paper towel. “I looked out for ya. Kept thinkin’ y’da come by.”

“Oh,” you say again and this time the word is laced with surprise. “I…didn’t know that. I looked for you too.”

Joel shrugs in what he hopes is an offhand manner. He cares more than he wants to admit, more than he can admit.

“It’s just because you missed having someone bring you coffee,” you tease gently when he doesn’t respond.

He snorts and the lingering tension dissolves. “Don’t do that again,” he says, still not looking up at you. “Coffee or not.”

Joel shrugs on a dark red flannel before he shuffles you out the shop’s front door.

The air is chilly but dry, and it burns the inside of your nose. In truth, the temperature is mild, not worthy of shivers or flannels, but compared to the unending heat of summer it's practically cold outside.

The skin of your forearm feels warm beneath your opposite hand clutched over the fresh ink, safely and carefully wrapped. You can’t stop looking at your now completed tattoo, still smiling to yourself about the way Joel seemed irritated that you not only paid him for his work but tipped him too. You told him to think of it as repayment for the tacos and lemonade but that had only made him frown harder.

“You don’t have to walk me home,” you say, even though the last thing in the world you want is for him to let you go on alone.

“Sure I do,” he says, turning away from the door.

Arguing wouldn’t change his mind, and you don’t really want to anyway.

Joel urges you down the sidewalk, his gait jilted and slow.

There’s an inch of space between you as you walk down the lamplit street. The horizon is a haze of orange, casting the wide open sky in shades of lavender and periwinkle as it darkens and evening sets in. You can feel the heat of Joel’s body, so close by.

It’s nothing compared to his hand over yours, the warmth and all consuming size of it. You don’t know if you’ll ever have cause to feel his hand again, now that he was done tattooing you.

Joel shifts so his hand hovers at your lower back, guiding you lightly. The gesture makes your skin prickle pleasantly, itchy with heat and that strange want that never went away. You wish he’d put his hand against your spine like he had when he’d gotten you tacos, so you could lean back into it, so you could feel the pressure of his hand.

He doesn't. Joel walks you along the street quietly, his hand painfully close to you and yet not close enough.

That alone makes you ache.

You don’t expect him to say anything as you walk along, mainly because you’re the one that’s always nervously chattering at him, half waiting to be snapped at. He tells you about Sarah’s course load for the upcoming fall semester and how Ellie’s nearly done at her apprenticeship. He talks quickly, like he’s trying to catch you up on a month worth of things you’d missed, like it mattered to him that you had.

He tells you about the clients he’d tattooed, and the designs he’s still working on. He wavers when he mentions the designs and you hope maybe he’ll ask you to look at some of them but he quickly moves on.

When you get close to your apartment he abruptly goes quiet and pulls his hand away from your back. Just like the last time he hovers just outside the halo of the security light over the door.

You struggle with the door like you always do until it finally pops open with a groan. This time when you hover in the doorway, you pluck up the courage to ask what you hadn’t been able to the last time.

“Would you like to come up for some coffee?”

“Late for that, ain’t it?”

Your heart sinks, breaks somewhere along your ribs. “Guess so,” you admit, gripping the edge of the door. “Thanks for walking with me, I’ll, uh—”

“But I would like that,” he cuts you off. It's so unlike him that you just stare for a moment. “If you’re offerin’, that is.”

You smile. “I am.”

He gestures you forward, reaching out to catch the door in his hand.

You slide into the dark entryway and Joel bolts the door shut behind you before following you up the stairs to the landing where you unlock your apartment door without so much struggle. “I can look at that other door,” he offers again, sounding sheepish this time, like he’s sorry for bothering you about it again.

“I’d like that,” you say, and let him in ahead of you.

You flip on the lights as you move past him to the kitchen, tiny and cluttered and too warm. You sweep your mail off the breakfast table and point Joel into one of the chairs when he starts to shrug out of the flannel.

Both chairs have jackets hanging from the back but he just drapes his over what’s already there. His shoulders strain at the material of his shirt, bunching around his biceps and under his arms, across the incredibly broad plains of his chest.

You yank your eyes away from him when you start to follow the vein in his arm, thinking you’d like to know what his skin tasted like there.

Heat floods your chest at the thought. It’s unlike you, makes you feel shaky in a good way. It’s been years since you’ve thought that about someone, and try as you might you can’t remember if you’d ever looked at your ex and thought something like that.

You wonder what that bit of skin feels like, how soft and firm the inside of his bicep must be.

He looks comfortable and domestic in the warm glow of your overhead kitchen light when he sits down.

You can’t look at him for too long without something in your pulse jumping, a raw little needy nerve that demanded attention. You want him to touch you again, to reach out and hold your hand so delicately in his.

Instead of dwelling on that thought, you turn to your coffee pot, deftly fixing it to brew before you turn to rummage through your fridge. “I have something stronger, if you want it. I don’t like drinking after getting a tattoo.”

“You shouldn’t,” he advises. “Ain’t good for healin’. You should eat somethin’, though.”

“I figured you’d have something to say about that,” you roll your eyes and turn to put the blackberry pie in your hands onto the table. “I won’t complain this time as long as you have some with me.”

He stares up at you, an odd look in his eyes. If you didn’t know better, you’d say it was affectionate. “All right, dear.”

Dear. That’s new. It makes you feel light, like bubbles are popping in your veins.

You nod at him, warmth spreading beneath your skin, before pointing to the pie. “From Flu’s. You been to Flu’s? She has the best pie. It’s blackberry.”

“Sure, me and the girls have been a few times. Coffee’s good there. Blackberry’s one of my favorites,” he rumbles, and you can’t tell if he’s lying or not. You have a feeling that even if Joel hated pie and was allergic to blackberries, you’d never hear a word about it.

Joel doesn’t look away from you. His gaze slowly shifts from your eyes, to your hand planted on your hip. He slowly reaches out and curls his hand around your wrist. The slow way he does it stills your heart and all the worries shelved inside it. All the room he gives you, to be skittish, as he called it, and afraid, makes your throat go tight and hot. He handles it like it’s not something to fix, just something to accommodate, figure out with you. “Thank you, sweetheart. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get the coffee?”

“It’s my house,” you gripe softly, no bite behind your words. His skin is fever hot against yours, like an ember pressed against your jumping pulse.

But just like the last time he tattooed you and insisted on something to eat, he scoffs at you. His thumb slides across the inside of your wrist. “And you were the one that lost blood today. Sit, and tell me where your mugs are.”

You slowly sit across from him, your wrist still in his hand. “Good,” he releases you and stands. The little bit of praise goes straight to your belly, just like it had at the shop. It settles warm inside you, a good kind of tense. “Cups?”

You point him to the correct cabinet, exhaustion overcoming you all at once now that you’ve sat down. You watch him pour the coffee, offer to get you cream or sugar even though he doesn’t know where those are either. You have to point him to where the plates, and then the cutlery, are kept.

It's an odd little hope that flits through your mind, one that wishes for a day when he would be familiar enough with your things that he wouldn’t need to ask.

He returns to the table and cuts two even slices of pie and plates them before returning to his chair.

You’re just about to dig your fork into the pie when his hand curls around yours again. He isn’t looking at you when you glance up, glad that he still wants anything to do with you, that he so carefully touches you, gives you the thing you crave and fear and are too afraid to ask for.

“Don’t do that again.” He squeezes your wrist gently, voice that quiet, low drawl, an echo of what he’d said earlier.

It’s the same thing he’d said at the shop and you don’t have to ask what he means. You wouldn’t anyway, not when the vulnerability in his voice seems to cost him.

He’s not sure how it happens, how he spends all night at your kitchen table with your trembling pulse beneath his hand.

He’s too old to be doing this type of shit.

He’s got an ache in his neck now that’s going to get him teased by just about everyone. His girls and Tommy already get on him about being a crotchety old man—between the glasses he refuses to wear besides anytime he needs to read something small and the landline phone and his attitude generally.

Yeah, his neck and back issues are going to be next on the docket.

But he can’t really bring himself to care, not when he’s gotten to sit with you through the night and listen to your voice, not when your hand is still securely within his and you haven’t given a single indication you’d like him to let go, not when your calves are crossed with his beneath the table.

He lets himself imagine it better, imagine it more.

You curled in his lap, head on his shoulder, fingers tangled up in the fabric of his shirt or knotted into his hair. In this stupid little dream of his, you’ve just woken up instead of staying awake through the night. You say good morning and he pours you coffee.

He thinks, too, of pressing you back into the table, finding what lay hidden on your skin. He’d go to his knees for you, he’d worship at your feet, if you asked him to.

He wants it so bad he can taste it, but he settles for what he has here with you, the limit you’ve guided him to, hands tangled and legs crossed.

The sun dawns a white gold through the sheer curtains over your kitchen windows. You’d never pulled the heavier drapes closed and the street light had cast your face in shadow when you flipped out the harsh overhead light.

You watch the sunrise, and Joel watches honeyed light shift over your face.

He likes your little apartment. It’s cluttered and homey and reminds him of his parent’s kitchen when he’d been growing up. You have art and photos stuck to every inch of bare wall. The blanket over the back of your couch and the shaw over one of the chairs is crocheted. There’s evidence of all kinds of little projects scattered around your apartment.

Even the little breakfast table he sits at is hand painted.

“You never said you were an artist,” he’d said early on in the night.

“I’m not,” you’d ducked your head and deflected. “Not like you at least. It’s not like I’m any good.”

You’re plenty good. “Right,” he agreed. “Not like me. It's better than mine. You could do your own sketchin’ for a tattoo.”

Even though you’d been embarrassed he could tell you were delighted he thought so.

Now you turn your face toward him in the comfortable silence that’s descended, half your features in shadow. You smile and your teeth shine. “Good thing today’s a Sunday, right? You don’t have to worry after rushing to open the studio.”

You tug your hand back from his and stand, gathering both mugs before you cross your tiny kitchen to set about starting a new pot of coffee.

He watches you, absently stacking the plates crusted with blackberry filling.

Your shirt rides up a little when you reach for the coffee canister, a thin strip of skin showing between your rumpled shirt and your jeans. He’s reminded again of all the places he wants to touch you, to touch the soft curves of your body, trace that line of skin and seek out each of your hidden tattoos.

Not on your hip, you’d said.

So where? Where hasn’t he seen?

The velvet of your thighs, the silken skin of your ribs and back, between your breasts, your sternum.

The kitchen fills slowly with light, orange and red on the far wall, undulating lines of light slicing apart the worn wooden floor. He picks apart the place with his eyes while your back is turned—the paintings and photos you don’t think anything of, the postcards stuck to the fridge, the hand painted, hand knitted-ness of everything, the mismatched mugs and glasses, chipped at the corners, the tiny dish of kibble on the floor—

“You got a cat?” He figures he would have seen a dog by now.

You turn and follow his eyes before you smile. “Sometimes. He comes and goes whenever he likes. He’s not really mine.”

“How’s that?”

“How’s what?”

“That he comes and goes?” Joel stands, meanders a couple steps toward you, trying to discreetly stretch out the throbbing nerve in his back.

“I leave the window cracked in my bedroom.”

And he hates that, just like he hates the thought of you leaving your door unlocked and he just like he hates the thought of you struggling with the door in the middle of the night when he hasn’t walked you home. “Shouldn’t be doin’ things like that.”

“Knew you wouldn’t like it,” you smile, repeating your earlier sentiment and he has a feeling it’s going to become a common refrain. “He’s probably sleeping just now.”

He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You’ll drive me crazy.”

“This town is the safest place I’ve ever been.”

“Hate to see where you’ve been before.”

You laugh and ask him if he wants to get breakfast when—

“Shit,” he slides a hand over his face. “I told my girls we’d have breakfast. Start of the school year tradition, Sarah's first day back is Monday. I gotta drive down to Austin.”

“It’s still early,” you reassure him without turning, but he can see the way your cheek curves with a smile he can’t see. “I’ll put your coffee in a thermos to go.”

Joel takes the last few steps toward you and leans against the counter. Your breath hitches and your eyes flick up to his, big and shining bright as they always are. A slash of sun falls over them, lighting up your irises. The coffee pot bubbles and hisses, percolating slowly and you don’t look away.

Your lips part softly and your breath fans across his chin. “Don’t gotta leave this minute. I got some time,” he says, watching those doe eyes of yours flick across his face, to the corner of his mouth.

You move a bit closer, your foot slotting between his, and he feels like you’ve finally drifted close enough. Finally come close enough to feel safe, to rest.

You lean into him first, eyes fluttering closed, shoulders relaxing against the line of his body. Joel presses one arm around you, slides his fingers along the column of your spine, and for a moment you stiffen in the cage of his arms.

“You’re all right,” he murmurs and loosens his hold a fraction, but your body suddenly goes lax against him. Your nose slots against his throat, fingers curling gently into his t-shirt. You release a long, slow breath against his throat. “You’re okay.”

He isn’t sure what he’s trying to reassure you of, but it doesn’t much matter because you seem to know, to get his meaning.

“I know I am,” you sigh.

He can feel you breathing, the rise and fall of your lungs, the press of your breasts against his chest. You’re soft in his arms. “Good,” he says, nose against your temple as he slides his hand to the back of your neck, keeping you pressed there. “Good girl.” He feels you shiver and holds you closer, tighter than should be possible.

Your hand is hot when it slips beneath his shirt, pressed against his lower back for the briefest moment before it disappears and roots down into his shirt again, your breath shaky.

When he rubs the tense muscle of your neck you make a noise that forces him to stifle a groan and pull back just slightly.

“You okay?” He asks, ignoring the fire burning low in his belly, trying to temper himself.

Your eyes are damp, the corners wet. “Sorry, sorry. Yeah, I’m—”

He cups your cheek, tilts your face up, sweeps his thumb over your cheek.

“I’m just a fucking mess, Joel. I always have been. For a long time, I have been. And I don’t know why.”

“Why what?” His eyes are on your mouth, then your eyes, the image of the divot in the bottom of your lip lingering in his mind. “Sweetheart?”

The big, scared, doe-eyed look you send him breaks his heart. “Why it’s so hard. To touch people and be touched.”

“You’re doin’ okay,” he strokes your cheek again, slides his other hand to your hip. “Seems to me anyway.”

“For now. I’m work. I always have been. And I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

He thinks of your pretty little apartment decorated with your own arts and crafts that you dismiss with a wave of your hand, the way you think you bother him, your insistence of paying him back for his time. You make yourself small, and he thinks you have more scars and worries from the past than you realize.

“Trouble? You’re the least troublesome person I know,” he says. “My idiot brother, Tommy, now he’s trouble. Still gotta bail him outta trouble sometimes. You? Nothin’ about you is trouble.” You lean into his hand, watching him closely.

He can’t believe his silent extended hand, his patient hand, has been rewarded with this. “And I don’t mind hard work.”

You search his eyes for a long time, not blinking, not looking away, as you reach up and hook one hand around his wrist. He can see you trying to convince yourself to believe him. You swallow and place your trust in him again, if not necessarily your belief. “Okay.”

“All right. You wanna get breakfast with me and my girls? I’ve been wantin’ you to meet Sarah.”

“She won’t mind?” you ask, gently pulling yourself out of his hands, tugging his hand away from your face.

He lets you go, recognizes the trapped, pained, fearful wanting on your face. You need space. “They think I don’t know it’s more for me than them. They stopping carin’ about it sometime in middle school. Hell, Ellie ain’t even in school anymore. I’m holdin’ on to them bein’ kids, I guess.”

You nod. “Okay.”

He stands aside and lets you fix the coffees. He pulls his flannel off the back of your chair when he passes it on the way out and drapes it around your shoulders.

When you’re in his truck, fiddling with his radio, he catches you clutching it closer, your nose dipped into the collar.

💞 Thank you for reading! Comments and feedback are so appreciated. 💞

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #honeyed fic

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nsharks · 4 months

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part sixteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

"I can't believe I woke up early for this."

You loosen your muscles, turning to dead weight in Ghost's arms, before using the awkward position to slip away.

"No one said you had to be here," Ghost throws over his shoulder before his gaze fleets back to yours. "Good. Again."

Blue groans as you reposition yourself for the basic defense maneuver. You can see why she'd find this boring— Ghost started you off with a move so basic it was almost insulting when he explained it. But you quickly realized his reasoning. Each time you do it, your pulse tampers down less and less while in his arms. He's had to remind you a few times to "Breathe, Twix"— the order so quietly uttered into the shell of your ear that Blue likely didn't even notice. Perhaps you have grown used to taking orders from him, or maybe having Blue close by is helping, because you've been able to ward off the threat of panic so far.

"Fine, I'm out of here," Blue rolls her eyes the second you've finished the move again. "Let me know when you—" she jabs a finger at Ghost, "—decide to make things more interesting." As she leaps off the log she'd been perched upon, she adds: "Oh, and don't get too close, Ghost. She might bite."

"So I've heard."

Heat rises to your cheeks. And then— you're alone with him. You take a swig of water from the canister Blue lent you to ignore the awkward feeling in your chest. "Again?" You wipe your mouth. "Or have I passed your test?"

"Test?" he repeats, the gravel in his voice rolling over the word as his brow lifts in question.

"Well, I haven't... had a repeat of last time, and it's been an hour. I think I've proved that I'm ready for something a little more..."

"More what?"

More interesting.

"Hand-to-hand, I guess. Something harder."

He rubs his jaw, as if to feign consideration. "Right, then. Let's try another one."

The next one he shows you is still simple, except you fail every other time. Basically, he gets behind you and you have to sidestep to avoid the trap of his arms. Somehow, Ghost's movements are light as a feather even though he's built like a rock.

But then you get better at it. The next two days pass in much the same manner until you start to react a bit faster. He teaches you a few more basic tactics. How to wriggle your wrist out of someone's hold. How to avoid being grabbed from the front by rolling to the ground. All defense. After hours spent with him, he doesn't even have to remind you to breathe anymore. Chopping wood in the evenings helps, too. You go to bed exhausted and wake up ready to practice before Ghost even touches your shoulder.

On the third day, he gets you up even earlier. You cram your wool-covered toes into boots, confine your hair in a hasty bun, and follow him to the clearing that has become your makeshift training ground. It takes you a moment to register that some things are different: his boots have been replaced by sneakers, and his jeans by loose, black gym shorts. The exposed skin is strange, making your eyes widen. If Blue were awake, she'd certainly comment.

His calves mirror the strength of the rest of him, and on the left leg, swirling ink catches your eye, reminiscent of the tattoos you discovered when tending to his wound. Skulls and a dagger; perhaps corny, but fitting for him.

"Have you tried it?" His voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Tried what?"

"The bow."

A white cloud forms around your mouth as you nod. "Needed some getting used to, like you said."

Yesterday you had a hard time shooting a chipmunk you wanted for lunch, so you spent the early afternoon firing arrows at oaks until the new bow started to feel like an extension of your limbs again.

"Let me know if I need to adjust the string."

"Will do," you say, almost mumbling.

When you reach the familiar circle of trees, you bounce once on your toes and crack your knuckles. Ghost retrieves something from his pocket. A roll of gauze. It is tossed at you without warning, and your hands fumble to grab it.

"Wrap up," he commands. "Your hands will thank you for it."

You look up at him, brows raised, but begin covering your palms and knuckles. When you're done, you throw the roll back to him. Ghost stretches his arms above his head and splays his feet into a firm stance, jerking his chin at you in a go-ahead motion. Your brows furrow as you try to understand what the fuck he's doing.

"Go on. Get ready."

"Um. Ready for what?"

"A little hand-to-hand."

Your mouth falls open. "What?"

He shrugs. "That's what you wanted, right? I think you're ready for it."

"That's not what I meant," you almost laugh, shaking your head. "I didn't mean I want to— to fight you. I just meant we don't have to stick to the basics."

"We won't." There is the slightest trace of amusement in his voice, so faint you wonder if it's even there. "You have ten seconds to get ready, Twix."

"I don't even—" you sputter, eyes flying open. If you weren't awake before, you are now. He seems completely serious, his hands in fists and his shoulders squared.

"Five."

"Oh, fuck me," you exhale, balling up your bandaged hands. Did he get you up at this hour so there was no chance of Blue joining? He didn't want her to watch him finally annihilate you? You don't think he would seriously hurt you, not after everything, but that doesn't mean your heart doesn't begin to thump wildly when the seconds are up. Neither of you makes the first move; you are focused on keeping yourself distant, and he is circling you like a predator, flicking his eyes along the length of you.

"What the fuck is that stance? I could just tap you and you'd fall over." His amusement has faded. "Is that how I showed you to stand when chopping wood?"

You shake your head, teeth gritted, and fix it, spreading your boots against the soil.

"Better."

Then, he's lunging. You forget everything about your stance and prance to the side like a skittish deer. There is a moment of relief when you successfully dodge him, only for it to abruptly end when he darts around your back and hooks an arm around your neck. Your heart skips over a beat. Holy shit is he fast.

"Be aware of your surroundings at all times," he chastises against the top of your hair. His hold is not aiming to fully restrain you, so when you claw your nails into his arm, it loosens and you slip away, staggering three strides before facing him with your fists up.

"What's the point of raising your fists if you're not going to hit me?" Ghost circles you again, and you have to shift your feet to keep up with him. "Come on, nurse. Where should you aim?"

"You're too tall." Your chest heaves. "I... I can't reach your face or neck without you blocking."

"Use the height difference to your advantage. Reach places that I can't."

You pause to think about it, studying him.

Ghost almost growls. "Stop hesitating. I could have killed you by now."

A mix of annoyance and determination makes you leap forward, jabbing your knuckles at the part of him where you know his liver would be. He captures you by the elbow before the blow can land, and sends you stumbling to the side, a few wisps of hair cascading over your face.

"Liver. Not bad. I might've let you have it if you moved quicker."

A hiss leaves your lips as you whirl around and punch directly into his core this time. He allows the hit, but your knuckles ram into solid muscle instead of the vulnerable stomach you hoped for, and you recoil with a wave of your hand, cussing under your breath.

"You hurt yourself more than you hurt me."

"Well, should I just kick you in the dick then?" you retort without thinking, flexing your fingers. Luckily, the gauze absorbed most of the damage.

"That's always an option."

His tone is serious, to the point that you almost give it a try, but then he's closing in on you again, sending you back to the defensive. He doesn't hold back. You run in circles and duck frantically, earning a few hits to your ribs. He doesn't use enough force to send you down to the ground, but enough to knock the wind out of you. Rapid breaths fire through your lungs and beads of sweat percolate your hairline. Ghost, on the other hand, appears unaffected.

"Fight back," he says in a mild voice; almost bored.

You nearly throw your arms up. "I would if you'd give me a fucking chance."

"You said not to coddle you."

"I'm aware. That doesn't mean you have to—"

Your spine suddenly meets something hard. A tree. He's backed you into it without you even realizing. When Ghost takes another swipe, you dip your head down and then use his recovery time to grab onto a branch and hoist yourself up.

You're barely perched upon it when a hand grips your ankle and drags you back down, an audible gasp reverberating in your chest as you land flat on your back with Ghost on top. His hand quickly cradles the back of your skull before it can crack on a hard tree root, while his other hand captures both of your wrists.

"You good?" Although he is the one who has you effectively pinned, his tone seems sincere. He scans your face from your forehead to your parted lips.

"Just... peachy."

His brows furrow. "What was your plan once you got up there?"

Labored breathing splinters your voice. "I didn't have much of a plan, really."

He speaks flatly. "I can tell."

"You had me cornered," you point out.

"You should have been—"

"Aware of my surroundings," you finish for him, exhaling deep through your nose. "I know."

Your eyes shift around, from his covered face to where his chest just barely presses into yours. It's all so close. Uncomfortably close. You can feel the steady pace of his heart against your sternum, and make out the faintest flecks of green in his eyes.

An ounce of fear and something else you can't quite discern balls up in your stomach, making you swallow. You've been pinned like this before and nearly had your face eaten. Ghost simply stares at you, as if waiting for you to make a move, but when you tug on your wrists, his grip doesn't relent.

"Could you... could you maybe get off of me?"

He shifts some weight off you, if only by a little. "Relax and think," he murmurs. "What are your options here?" The curve of his lips tightens before he adds, "Besides biting my nose off. I'd like to keep that for now."

With a sigh, your eyes slide up to the awakening sky. Hues of violet and orange stare down at you. "Do I... do I even have any options? You must weigh like a ton." The words are past your lips before you can shut your mouth.

"You always have options."

"Doesn't mean any of them will be effective," you say.

His eyes darken, and the green disappears. "Why do you do that?"

"Um... do what?"

"Doubt yourself. After all that you have survived." He sounds irritated.

"As if you haven't doubted me?" You can't help it; you scoff. "You told her I wouldn't come back that time I went on my own. I mean, I'm still weak, remember? No amount of chopping wood will make me as strong as you or those men who almost killed us."

"It's not about strength," he replies.

"That's easy for you to say," you wiggle your wrists for emphasis. "You have nothing to be afraid of. You were cut out for this shit from the start."

"I have everything to be afraid of." His eyes narrow, but his voice softens. "And so were you."

"Me?" Your voice slightly elevates, and a lick of anger curls within you. "I should be in grad school right now, or maybe I would've quit nursing and gone into something useless and hate my life, but I was never meant to kill anyone, let alone fight them. I was meant to be young and stupid and make mistakes. Now, if I make a fucking mistake, it will cost me my life." Your nostrils flare as you huff, sending a piece of hair flying up into his face, and you writhe beneath him. "Get off of me, Ghost."

But he doesn't.

Beats of silence linger in the small gap between your bodies.

You should feel embarrassed for saying all those things, but instead, you think about what he said:

Don't hesitate.

The ball inside you is a fiery mix of emotions that you usually try your damn hardest to ignore and break and shove away.

But now you let it spread through your body like a sizzling tide, from the tips of your fingers down to your toes and... to your knee. Before you can change your mind, you slam it upward as hard as you can into the apex of his groin.

"Fuck," Ghost mutters, the only sign of any pain aside from the brief moment that he closes his eyes.

His hold loosens only by a little, but it's enough for you to slip out from under him and find your way back to your feet, your chest rising and falling.

He clears his throat after a moment and rises.

"Good." The two of you share a stare-off for a few seconds before he shakes his head, saying again: "Good, Twix. More of that."

You rip your gaze away from him, cheeks hot, and say nothing as you snatch the canister and bring it to your lips, but the water does little to cool you down.

You shiver in the bitterness of twilight, your fingers red and numb, wishing for a pair of gloves. The fireflies are coming out, dots of luminescence darting around you. You swing the axe down again, throat raw as you grunt, and then you add the broken logs to the growing stack. Sudden light footsteps announce the end of your alone time.

"It's me," Blue greets kindly.

You drop the axe, hands feeling stiff, and turn to face her with a breathless smile. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

"Checking on you. Ghost went hard on you this morning, huh?" she says with a sigh. "I could hear you guys. You were a bit... loud. Made it hard to sleep."

"Not too hard. I'm… I'm good."

If she is unconvinced, she doesn't comment on it. Rather, she hugs you. A warm one. You return the embrace before she pulls away.

"I also came because I wanted to invite you to a bonfire."

"Bonfire?"

"Well, with all your..." her eyes flicker to the pile of logs you've conjured over the past hour. "...special workouts, we have a lot of wood now. I told Ghost to make a big fire outside and we can cook dinner over it. It'll be fun, come on. Ghost is making tea, too."

Soon enough, your sore fingers are tingling, holding a warm, ceramic mug of tea. Ghost chucks another bundle of wood into the fire, spitting out smoke and embers, and sits on a tree stump while Blue takes the folding chair. Your hair is down, tucked behind your ears, and a patchwork quilt Blue grabbed from her room lays across your lap. The mug burns pleasantly against your lips when you take a sip, the herbal taste sliding down your throat. Whatever plants he used to make it work together perfectly. It reminds you of the tea your mom used to make when you were sick.

"Do you like it more well-done or is this okay?" Blue asks, meticulously spinning the skewered squirrel meat over the fire.

"That's good, thank you."

Ghost cooks their dinner, and the three of you eat and sip in a comforting silence. You avoid looking at him, opting for the starry sky above your head, where bold stars beam even brighter than the fireflies. It's quite nice. When you're done, you toss the bones into the fire and listen to them splinter.

Blue breaks the silence. "Would you rather be burned alive or be attacked by a bunch of squirrels with rabies?"

You take another sip of tea. "How many squirrels, exactly?"

She taps her chin. "One hundred."

"I think if it were fifty, I could handle them. One hundred, probably not. I'll choose being burned."

She makes a face. "That is a terrible death."

"Most deaths are terrible."

"Fair enough. Ghost?"

For the first time since this morning, you steal a glance. His elbows rest upon his splayed knees, and the orange flames reflect in his eyes as if they were twin black, mirrors. "I could handle the squirrels."

She snorts a laugh. "Even you can't survive rabies, though."

He shrugs. "Takes some time to kill you."

"Let's play a different game," you interject. "Maybe something a little less... morbid tonight."

"Like what?" Blue chimes.

You shrug indifferently. "What other ones do you know?"

"Not that many. You tell us one, Twix."

"Well, I know one good one. You have to act something out and then we'll guess what it is. But you can't talk."

"Oh, that's easy."

"Try it, then," you nod at her.

She leaps up from the chair, nearly spilling her tea in the process. Without hesitation, she puts on a stoic expression and begins shooting finger guns. Quiet laughter shakes your shoulders.

"Are you, um... Ghost?" you guess, making her throw her arms up.

"How did you guess so quickly?"

"It was a bit obvious."

"Not to me," Ghost murmurs. "Terrible impression, kid."

Across the fire, you glance at him again, and his eyes meet yours, reminding you of the events that took place and the words that you spat. Emotions pulse against your ribs, like a swarm of flickering fireflies, but you fail to catch and examine any of them.

A tug on your arm ends the shared look. Tea splatters around the rim of your mug as Blue ushers you up. "Your turn now."

"Alright, alright."

You decide not to feel humiliated with both pairs of eyes on you. They've both seen much stranger things than you act out a squirrel, which must be a good impression because Ghost guesses it right away.

A sudden crack of lightning in the distance puts an end to the game before Ghost can have a turn, which you suspect he is pleased about. He puts out the fire just before clouds roll in, blocking out the stars, and a drizzle of rain begins. Back inside, you kick off your boots and sink to the sofa as Blue says goodnight. Once she’s in her room, Ghost pauses in the threshold of the hall and speaks over his shoulder.

"Get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow, even if it's raining.”

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #cod #zombie apocolypse au

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lycheedr3ams · 11 months

Text

Death's Angel

Part 4: Staking Claim

royal!fem!reader x executioner!konig

Summary: It's 1554. You're one of the eight daughters of the Austrian royal family, and your parents do everything they can to ensure their kingdom is prosperous and peaceful. No royal court is complete without their hand-picked executioner, one who stands out against the sea of black, faceless bodies that make up the profession. It just so happens that your family's new executioner, one who has made a name for himself far and wide for his skill with the axe, has caught your eye and ruined you for good.

Warnings: virgin!reader, oral (f,m receiving), cunnilingus, choking, slight masochism, pussy slapping, slight degradation, p in v sex, hand job, konig is demanding & a perv, dub-con if you squint, slight humiliation, slight ownership, mentions of breeding, cuddles & fluff at end (lmk if i missed anything)

this is one of the many filthy smut chapters to come!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

I just wanted to thank everyone for your support with this fic! I spent a lot of time on this chapter, I hope everyone enjoys! <3

not proofread

.......

series inspired by the art below!

you could barely process the next few seconds. the moment konig heard your words, challenging him to completely ruin you, he picked you up like you were nothing but a feather and threw you onto his bed. he really did try to be gentle. the bed creaked when you landed, and you laid there, contorting your body in an unintentionally seductive position, as you stared up at him with eyes that betrayed lust and fear. he stalked towards you laying on his bed as you waited with bated breath. he now stood right at your feet, which slightly dipped off the mattress frame, and stared down at you. his breathing was labored as he stared.

"what does a princess even want with an executioner?" he asked as he climbed over you on the bed. you now looked up at him with your head against the mattress.

you blinked, appalled by his question. wasn't it obvious? it was how he was everything you were taught not to be. how he sweated and grunted and chopped heads off while you lazily picked fine fruits off of silver platters and slept in a down mattress. how he was dangerous and free and unrestrained while you were duty-bound and predictable and soft. how he lived his life, not caring about others' opinions of him, while you were always under a microscope. you couldn't breathe free, you couldn't sleep soundly at night, you couldn't just take whatever you wanted, like he could. it was how he was the rabid wolf while you were the pampered lap dog. it was how he was death and you were a sorry excuse for life.

but all you could manage to say was -

"i like fire."

his large hand flew up to your neck and wrapped around it so easily. he could easily crush your windpipe and kill you, and it made you soaked. he applied gentle pressure to the sides of your neck with his fingers. he leaned down until his hood brushed your bare neck.

"still like fire?"

you looked up at him. "yes."

he held your neck firm as he moved his hood up slightly with his other hand to kiss you. but this wasn't the type of kiss you see in fairytales, the chaste type of kiss that princes give the princess after they've won the battle or killed the dragon. no, this was a kiss that was needy, lustful, a kiss that promised ruin and death, a kiss that stung so sweetly, a kiss that you were never meant to receive. but you received it and gave it back to him tenfold, your wet lips haphazardly gliding against his own. your arms timidly wrapped around his strong torso while your thighs seemed to open on their own to allow him closer to you as he devoured your mouth. his tongue slipped inside with a groan, and you couldn't help but whimper as his hand closed tighter around your neck.

this was the filthiest thing you had ever done, and it was just a kiss so far. your mixed spit dribbled down the sides of your mouth and down your neck, and you could feel his calloused fingers digging into the sides of your soft neck. and you could certainly feel his throbbing length pressing up on your crotch as he began to slowly grind on you. he eventually released your neck when you both gasped for air, and he readjusted his hood. he dropped his head down until his clothed nose rubbed right against your own.

"you have five seconds to get this dress off before i tear it apart," he growled.

you gasped, hopped out of bed, and undressed as he commanded. you normally wouldn't have been like this: so willing, so easy. you'd never even been touched by a man like this before, but the urgency and power in his voice didn't give you any room to think of disobeying. not that you didn't want this. no, you wanted this more than anything. besides, how would you explain why you suddenly had a dress that had been ripped to shreds? that a bear came and clawed it? perhaps your parents would believe that sooner than they would that their executioner corrupted their daughter in the bowels of the castle.

you let your nighttime dress drop to the floor with a quiet thud, and felt yourself become every shy as konig raked his eyes over your mostly naked form. he didn't say anything about your panties, and you were nervous as it is, so you kept them on. but you weren't wearing a bra, so your boobs and hardened nipples were bare for him to see.

he reached out his arms and dragged you by the waist to stand in between his legs at the bed. he wasn't gentle with you by any means. his hands gripped your waist tightly before that same pressure was applied to your breasts. you moaned breathlessly and shivered as he lifted his hood up enough so that he could take one of your hardened nipples in his wet mouth. you placed your hands on his shoulders for support as you swayed from the pleasure he was giving you. his wet, lithe tongue swirled around your nipples before sucking on them. he grunted like an animal starved against your breasts, and you pressed your thighs together as you bit your lip.

"lay down," he rasped as he half threw you back down onto the bed. you squeaked but followed his command. before you could get adjusted lying down, he yanked your panties off and didn't even bother taking them off your ankle before he spread your legs wide open. you hid your face as you blushed, but when you peeked out from between your fingers, you saw how hungrily he was staring at your pussy. his fingers dug into your thighs as he pressed your legs farther apart so that you were completely exposed to him. you blushed as you lost control of your breath. he examined your pussy like it was the last thing he would ever do. he couldn't help but stare at your perfect clit, your folds, or your cunt that was weeping and eager to take him in. it made your face so red that you had to turn your face to the side. your movement shifted his eyes towards you.

he got closer to your heat and lifted his hood so that he could access your most private area while keeping himself concealed. you couldn't stop the loud whine that escaped you when he ran his tongue over your pussy, purposefully widening it so that he touched every crevice. he didn't give you any time to adjust before he devoured your cunt like a man starved. the sounds his mouth was making were downright obscene: he slurped and sucked and grunted against your pussy as he probed your clit with his tongue and sucked on it hard. you squirmed and tried to push him away, but he held you open for him.

"stop moving," he grunted against your pussy before sliding his tongue into your soaking heat. your back arched as his silky, wet tongue probed and caressed your walls. you clenched around his tongue, and he couldn't help but groan as he thought about how it would feel when you clenched around his length. he placed his hands on the back of your knees by your thighs and pressed you open so he could access your wet cunt better. you gasped and shivered as you approached your orgasm on his tongue.

there was no way he was a virgin, because he ate your pussy so well, knowing exactly where to lick and when to suck, when to lap at you and when to do little kitten licks on your clit. your thighs shook under his massive hands, and you squirmed.

"konig! I'm -" you gasped before reaching your orgasm on his insatiable tongue. this wasn't like the orgasms you've had as you fingered yourself in your room, with your hand over your mouth so that the knights on patrol wouldn't hear you. this orgasm was completely shattering, and you clenched hard around nothing as konig sucked your clit as you rode out the waves of your pleasure. but he didn't detach from your clit, and you feebly pushed your hands against his head.

"too much! can't!" you whined. he finally removed his mouth from your cunt, but not before he lapped the juices that dripped out of your pussy. you lay back on his bed, breath ragged, sweaty, and very red with embarrassment as he stared at you, hovering over you.

"my turn," he said with almost a playful glint in his eye. you were confused, but you couldn't say anything before he manhandled you so that you were lying with your back on the bed and your head hanging upside down over the mattress. your eyes widened as you found yourself face-to-face with his massive erection. he pulled his pants down impatiently and threw them somewhere on his floor before he grabbed himself and brought his cock closer to you.

"open your mouth," he said as he pried your mouth open. he then grabbed your tongue and pulled it so that it was sticking out over your bottom lip before slowly easing his hard cock inside your mouth. he groaned the moment your soft lips wrapped around his length, and he pushed it halfway into your mouth. it was fucking huge, and tasted like salt and a little bit of sweat, but the feeling of the thick veins running through it pushing perfectly against your lips made up for the taste.

your throat bobbed, not quite used to the intrusion, as he stilled and groaned and enjoyed the feeling of your warm tongue and lips on his erection. he then, surprisingly gently, grabbed the sides of your head before slowly thrusting his length halfway in and out of your mouth. you needed some relief from the growing pleasure you felt, so you inched your hand down yourself as konig continued to use your mouth, and you stroked your clit. his eyes were currently closed, lost in the pleasure of your warm mouth, and you moaned against his cock. the vibrations sent shivers through him, and when looked down to see that you were pleasuring yourself, he bent over slightly, swatted your hand away, and rubbed your clit fervently with his index finger.

"you like sucking my cock, don't you?" he teased, and you could hear the smirk on his face. still rubbing your clit, he caressed your weeping cunt with another finger but didn't put it in.

he continued to thrust in your mouth, and his groans were like nothing you have ever heard. they were guttural, primal, and so overwhelmingly masculine. you came again on his finger, and he slapped your wet cunt, causing you to jump. he laughed quietly.

"does the princess like being handled like a common street whore?" he asked as his voice dipped several octaves. you were ashamed at how much that made you moan around his length. he grunted and his cock twitched before he extended your throat with his large hand and released his semen deep down your throat. you could feel the hot thickness of it sliding down your esophagus, and you coughed when he finally withdrew. but his length wasn't softening. was that even possible, you wondered?

when he caught you staring at his cock as you sat up, he laughed darkly.

"like what you see, princess?"

your eyes flicked up to his. "please, take your shirt off."

konig wordlessly removed his shirt, making sure his mask stayed on, before he threw his shirt on top of his discarded pants. you could now see him in his full glory, and oh did his body portray his profession. his biceps were so cut and thick, with prominent blue veins running over them. his chest and abs were defined, as were the deep ridges of his v-line. his thighs were thick and looked as strong as stone. if you didn't know any better, you would've thought he was a statue in the art wing of your castle. but your favorite part was the trail of thick hair that led down to his cock.

"you're...amazing..." you said breathlessly.

he looked like he could pounce on you at any second, like a spring just waiting to recoil.

"konig, i've... never had sex before," you admitted as you looked away from him nervously.

his energy, his demeanor, suddenly completely changed. his eyes grew dark, and his breathing almost stopped. he shook with how much he had to restrain himself.

"face down, ass up," he rasped. you were caught off guard, not expecting him to just completely breeze by that important detail, before you obeyed. you were glad for this starting position, since your face betrayed your embarrassment you feared you would never recover if he saw.

you could hear his feet padding against the cobblestone floor as he approached your exposed cunt. he slapped it again, and this time it stung. you whimpered. konig seemed to like giving you a little pain, since your whimper was met with a chuckle.

"i will take care of you, princess. just keep your ass nice and high for me," he whispered as he placed one hand on your hip and the other around his cock. you suddenly felt the tip beginning to penetrate you, and you clenched up.

"relax," he said as he rubbed his thumb in circles over your hip. "be a good girl for me and relax."

it was like konig had flipped a switch in your brain you didn't even know you had. you relaxed your walls and gasped silently as he slowly eased his hard length into you. you grasped onto the sheets at the intrusion.

"sc...scheiss," konig stuttered as he felt your wet walls take him in perfectly. he didn't let you get adjusted to his length before he grasped your hips with both hands and set a slow yet steady pace, thrusting in and out of you. his heavy balls slapped your clit with each thrust, and you moaned into the mattress.

"don't fucking hide from me," konig growled in your ear as he yanked your head up with your hair. the room was instantly filled with your moans and mewls. he held onto your hair and hip as he began to fuck you brutally.

"i never said i would be gentle," he said with a slight laugh in your ear. he seemed to be enjoying this, corrupting you and taking your first time in secret in the untouchable part of your castle.

he grunted loudly each time he sheathed his length into you, and your moans turned into barely audible screams. he was fucking you like a rabid animal, like it was his only mission to breed you and chase as much pleasure as humanly possible. it almost stung with how hard his balls now slapped at your clit, and you clenched around him.

"so fucking tight..." he rasped as he went back to holding your hips firmly in his hands. he manhandled your hips back onto him as he thrusted into you at the same time, making the experience so much more heightened.

"fucking. smiling. at me." he said with each hard thrust through gritted teeth. "tempting. me. this. whole. time." the sound of his skin slapping your own was like the steady rhythm that accompanied your loud, unrestrained moans.

"coming to my fucking room," he slurred as he continued pounding you. "following me."

you moaned and whimpered, feeling very self-conscious and embarrassed at his words. it didn't help his dick was filling you up to your skull.

"saying you can handle fire," he said in between grunts and groans. "you've...no idea..." he said as he thrusted "what you've...gotten yourself...into."

he was right, and you couldn't give a damn right now as his cock perfectly stroked your walls. he was just so deep, and hard, and you could see stars each time his tip kissed the entrance to your cervix. but your loud, guttural moans told him all he needed to know.

you knew his grip on your hips was going to leave bruises, and you didn't have the mental capacity in the moment to think of how to explain to the servants who bathed you where those marks came from. but you couldn't care less as konig claimed you again and again and again with his cock.

"take it," konig growled before his hips came to a halt, and he released his hot, thick load inside you. pregnancy chances be damned, all you wanted was his semen inside you. it was like setting a fire in your core, a fire that you never wanted to go out. he pulled out with a hiss, and you collapsed onto your stomach on the bed, panting and spent. konig also was catching his breath when you felt a gentle caress on your back. you jolted at the touch, feeling a bit overstimulated. he pulled his hand away.

"i'm not done with you yet, princess," konig whispered against the sweaty skin of your back before he kissed down your spine. you shivered at the feeling of his warm lips gliding over your skin, all the way down to the top of your ass.

"can't....take anymore," you murmured tiredly. konig exhaled against your back.

"you have hands, don't you?" he asked, only half teasing. he rolled you onto your back and laid next to you in bed. he wrapped his large arm around you, holding you in close to his side, and wrapped your hand around his semi-hard cock. he threw his head back as you began to pump him. you nuzzled your lips against his hood, and he eventually got the hint and lifted his mask up slightly so that he could capture your lips once again. he pulled you closer to him by your neck as his tongue invaded your mouth. his hips bucked up into your hand, and you squeezed him. he groaned in your mouth.

"so gut," he whispered against your lips. you pumped him faster, your lips never detaching from his, before he came all over his stomach with a groan. you both lay panting once again, you trying to catch your breath from the kiss and him from his orgasm. you pulled your hand away from his softening cock and laid it awkwardly on the side of your body.

konig rolled slightly over and picked up a cloth that was lying by his bed on the floor. he wiped his stomach clean, and then sat up.

"spread 'em," he said as he grabbed one of your thighs and held it up and open.

"wait, is that the cloth I gave you?" you asked him, blood rising to your cheeks.

"ja," he said simply before gently wiping your cunt clean.

"that...that cloth was...to wipe your sweat, or something..." you murmured as you watched him clean you.

"it's mine now. i can use it how i please," he said before he threw it back on the floor. he laid down next to you once again. you cuddled up into his side nervously and hesitantly laid a hand on his chest. he wrapped his arm around you and held you close by your back.

"don't tell anyone about this, ja?" he said against your scalp.

you nodded. "of course."

"you are mine now," he declared. you looked up at him, your cheek resting on his chest and your brows lifted in confusion and disbelief.

"what do you mean?" you asked, your voice rising in pitch a bit.

"you are mine." he repeated, and he didn't speak for the rest of the night. eventually, you got up out of bed and sheepishly put your clothes back on while konig admired the view, still laying down with his hands behind his head. he laid on his bed, completely naked, like it was the most natural thing in the world. the man oozed confidence. when you stumbled a bit as you walked, he chuckled quietly. you rolled your eyes at him.

"well...goodnight, then," you said awkwardly as you turned to go to his door to leave. but he got up suddenly and placed his hand on your shoulder. you looked back at him, confused, before he lifted his hood slightly and gently pecked you on the lips. and so you left his room feeling giddy, sore, and much too obsessed with the executioner.

taglist: @kneelingshadowsalome, @plumdreadful, @dumb-dumb-idiot-girl, @elichisstuff, @konig-breedme, @tr4psta, @cutiecusp, @konigsleftkidney, @local-vampire-s1ut, @ihaveaproblematicbrain, @twice360noscope

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stele3 · 11 months

Text

DND HAT/Bridgerton crossover AU in which Forge is there to present his foster daughter to high society (but really it’s a con, he's there to rob Queen Charlotte) and Xenk is there to be a rake avowed bachelor too dedicated to his studies to take a wife (but secretly he’s gay and refuses to live a lie). He’s a little appalled that a fourteen-year-old is being presented to the marriage market, especially since it’s clear that her warden transparently cares more about the benefit to himself than Kira’s well-being. As such he kind of reluctantly starts to “court” the girl, while making it very clear to her that he’s got no actual interest. She’s pretty grateful for the protection and goes along with the ruse.

In walks Edgin, who’s presented his, uhhhhhh, ‘foster daughter’ Doric! Doric looks about ready to rip the ridiculous feather off her head. They’re there to rob Forge and rescue Kira.

Misunderstandings abound. Xenk absorbs Kira’s misguided anger towards her father for abandoning her and treats Edgin with disdain. Edgin, meanwhile, is about two seconds away from straight-up strangling this ADULT MAN who is courting his FOURTEEN YEAR OLD DAUGHTER GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER YOU ASSHOLE I WILL KILL YOU WITH MY BRAIN AND THIS FORK except Regency so they do so with polite smiles and Regency era niceties.

Then Xenk wakes up in the middle of the night to Holga, covered in mud, in his room, swinging a hatchet at his head. Because Holga does not have time for Regency era niceties.

#dnd hat #dndhat #honor among thieves #bridgerton

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diorsluv · 5 months

Text

feather , part 6

“ when i try to make plans ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

lhughes_06

liked by yourusername, rutgermcgroarty, trevorzegras, and 74,278 others

lhughes_06 got some panda then went to the arcade 🐼👾

tagged: dylanduke25, luca.fantilli, edwards.73, yourusername, markestapa, mackie.samo, adamfantilli, rutgermcgroarty

view all comments

adamfantilli rutger cheated at dance dance revolution I SWEAR

→ rutgermcgroarty okay we’re using the full name 😕 i see you’re still jealous

yourusername MARK LITERALLY FUCKING CRAWLED UNDER THE BASKETBALL THING BECAUSE HE WAS LOSING TO ME

→ lhughes_06 but to be fair i was helping you

→ yourusername okay buddy you made like one shot

→ lhughes_06 I MADE LIKE 3

username45 THERES NO WAY. I WAS JUST AT THAT ARCADE LIKE A WEEK AGO.

edwards.73 wow u didn’t post my laser tag win 🙁🙁🙁

→ lhughes_06 it was hardly a win

→ edwards.73 I HAD LIKE 50 POINTS

→ lhughes_06 AND I HAD LIKE 47 SO WHAT???

→ rutgermcgroarty i highly doubt that cuz you and lil drizz were gone for a majority of the game lhughes_06

→ yourusername RUT STOP SPREADING THE DAMN RUMORS

dylanduke25 someone better post my air hockey W on their story

username82 mark jumping on luke’s back 😭

username66 ddr ��🔝

yourusername

liked by jamie.drysdale, _quinnhughes, mackie.samo, and 54,926 others

yourusername babysat my cousin’s daughters with these gremlins and took them to the museum

tagged: lhughes_06, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, mackie.samo

view all comments

username30 that tomato soup looks heavenly 😋

markestapa oh??

→ yourusername what is that supposed to mean….. 😓

→ markestapa nothing

edwards.73 when she can cook AND she’s good with kids?? (cough cough)

→ lhughes_06 real

→ username81 HUUUUUUH?? lhughes_06

username47 she’s so respectful for keeping their faces out of the pictures

jackhughes GREMLINS???

→ yourusername yes gremlins 🙄

mackie.samo i would like to preface the fact that i kept the house from burning down

→ yourusername DON’T SAY THAT MY COUSIN’S GONNA SEE THIS

→ mackie.samo i’m glad i incriminated you

username7 WRECK IT RALPH!

luca.fantilli man if i didn’t have class today i would’ve totally joined

→ _quinnhughes kid you weren’t invited

→ yourusername you would’ve scared the kids away

→ lhughes_06 trauma is a real issue

lhughes_06 you looked very nice at the museum today

→ yourusername muchas gracias moosey

→ dylanduke25 finally had the balls to say it on your own account huh

username78 LUKE’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT IS REALLY SHOWING

next chapter notes ) are we loving luke’s character development or whatttt also dont really know how to feel bout this one but we ball 🫡🫡

#luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes #cole caufield #alex turcotte #trevor zegras #jamie drysdale #rutger mcgroarty #luca fantilli #adam fantilli #dylan duke #ethan edwards #mackie samoskevich #mark estapa

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jeonride · 10 months

Text

welcome to my reading list of minghao ficts!i'm actually so sad that i can't find more...

FICTS ! ✧*。

Avant-Garde (fluff, college au, painter!hao) by @hoyoungy

Glacial Pace (smut, friends to lovers) by @wonusite

Home Yet? (smut, established relationship) by @idyllicdeco

Felix Felicis (fluff, slytherin!minghao) by @blue-jisungs

Rush Hour (smut, enemies to lovers) by @lovelyhan

Attracted to You (smut) by @cheolhub

All Mine (smut) by @cheolhub

F* Me, Emo Boy (smut) @sunnylovespickles

Chèrie (smut, duke!minghao) by @venerex

Art Project (smut, fluff) by @1-800-hwahui

Monitor Me (smut, camboy!minghao) by @sunnylovespickles

Deadly Sin (smut, horror, demon!minghao) by @onlymingyus

Longing of a Noble's Daughter (smut, angst, royal au) by @sunnylovespickles

Oh, My! (smut) by @toruro

Now or Never The Series (smut) @heartkyeom

Bloody Kisses (smut, vampire!minghao) by @duhnova

Once Bitten (smut, contains blood) by @sluttywonwoo

Blocked Contacts (fluff, jealous hao) by @jae-bummer

Kiss Me Thru The Phone (smut) by @number1mingyustan

Wild With You (smut) by @beahae

Dress, Preview (smut) by @ally-127

Erotic Humiliation (smut) by @bitchlessdino

Wildest Dreams (smut, angst, moviestar!hao) by @rubyreduji

Zen (fluff, smut) by @playmetheclassics

Coffee at Christmas (fluff, smut) by @sluttyminghao

Playing Cupid (smut) by @sluttywonwoo

04.18 am (fluff, smut, pianist!minghao) by @number1mingyustan

Fixer Upper (smut, friends to lovers) by @seungkwansphd

Tamed Studies (minghao x male!reader) @flwrboi

Paint Me in Gold (fluff, semi royal, ghost au) by @starryse

Take it Like a Good Girl (smut, ft.mingyu) by @pussy-potions

Home for The Holidays (fluff, smut) by @bangchanswolfpelt

Wrong Turn (smut, vampire!minghao) by @meltwonu

Leave it On The Runway (smut, model!hao) by @kpop-hive

Galaxies Away (romance, angst, nerd!hao) by @dianalikecats

A Thousand Words Left Unsaid (angst, heartbreak) by @twogyuu

The Party Chronicles (smut) by @bitchlessdino

Thank You (smut, ft.jun) by @peachybun-bun

DRABBLES / SCENARIOS ! ✧*。

just minghao's hands appreciation (posted by @uremoangel)

minghao de-stress you with oral (fluff, smut) by @nsfwhao

soft sex (fluff, smut) by @toruro

please (smut) by @pussy-potions

kinktober drabble (smut, minghao is a sex store worker) by @sluttyminghao

fucking + praising (fluff, smut) by @gfcheol

aftercare (nsfw-ish, soft) by @gfcheol

flying & fucking (smut) by @toruro

minghao as pussy slapper (smut) by @toruro

hard dom!hao + spanking (smut) by @onlyhuis

accidental stimulation (fluff, smut) by @wildfluwer

one more time (fluff, smut) by @onlymingyus

hao kissing your tears during sex (fluff) by @toruro

light-feather praises (nsfw) by @venerex

bedtime tea (fluff, comfort) by @venerex

how i'd do? (smut) by @onlymingyus

[20:13] (filthy, iykyk) by @trash-hours

on your knees (smut) by @multi-kpop-fanfics

passionate sex (smut) by @sluttywonwoo

slow down, look at me (smut) by @jeongwife

freakily good with his hands (smut)

corruption kink (smut) 2nd ver

fingering (smut, fluff tho)

you have to be quiet (smut)

when it's cold outside (fluff)

that's sick ! (fluff)

fucking with your hands tied (smut)

want to see cherry blossoms (fluff)

let me take care of you (fluff, comfort)

hurry up (smut, sub!minghao)

jealous sex (smut)

minghao's kinks headcanon (nsfw)

horny dom!hao (nsfw)

fucking with racer!minghao (smut)

art exhibition (smut)

a-z nsfw with minghao

drawing body paint on your thighs (nsfw)

sucking his on kitchen counter (nsfw)

daddy sugar!minghao (smut)

my muse (smut, sub!minghao)

paparazzi!minghao (smut)

smut, 3.5k- yeah, that's it.

wake up early (very fluff, also smut)

blade of hearts (smut)

butterfly (fluff, smut)

sir!minghao (smut)

last (implied mature themes)

maniac (smut)

wanna hold your hand (smut, fluff)

#minghao smut #the8 smut #the8 fluff #seventeen the8 #minghao #seventeen fanfic #reading #fic reblog

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moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami · 2 months

Text

To Vex A Viscount (of seas and torment entry)

based on this ask ♡

— regency era au

summary: simply nothing more could be required of a perfect evening when invited to a masquerade with the pleasure of vexing an easily irritable viscount.

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings: none (though please do feel free to inform me if you find any!)

of seas and torment, make do (of seas and torment entry)

⚔°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You thank the gods for the salvation the mask wrapped around your face offers you. It will not do well if the other gossip-mongers see your distaste for the evening's festivities; they'd call you insolent, and you simply couldn't have that if you wished to find a husband.

Truly, you'd prefer readying yourself for a long night of restful slumber than being forced to simper and be delightful in the presence of the ton.

"Lady Jackson." You turn at the sound of your name, the voice all too familiar for you to mistake his identity even with the elaborate mask of golden feathers hiding his features.

"Lord Castellan." You acknowledge the viscount with a pleasant tone, though you were well-aware that the niceties shared between the both of you were merely for show. "Good evening."

"I wasn't expecting your presence tonight." Luke continues, speaking as he moves to stand closer to you. You take a deliberate step away from him, weary of anyone who might get the wrong idea.

"Neither was I." You answer truthfully. "But my mama and brother insisted on our attendance."

He looks down at you in amusement. "I do hope the soiree is to your liking."

"Of course." You nod, taking a sip from the beverage cradled in between your gloved fingers. "Lady Castellan always throws such magnificent balls."

You look for his mother amidst the crowds, her grin wide and welcoming as she conversed with your own.

Luke hums. "It was my idea to make it a masquerade. I hear it's quite fashionable in Italy."

"Ah, that must explain its banality." You twist your mouth. It was definitely a rude response, but Luke, at least once in the years you've known him, has never been offended by your brazen remarks. He took all of them in good humor.

He snorts. "I think it's rather romantic."

"And what do you know of romance, my lord?" You turn to him, eyes glinting in the candlelight as you begin to tease him. "Do enlighten me. You seem to be quite well-versed on the topic now that you've returned from your travels. I assume the continent must have been good to the matters of your heart."

He glances down at you from his peripheral. "It was. Very much, actually."

You raise an eyebrow, an invitation (or provocation) for him to speak more. He doesn't elaborate further.

You turn your attention elsewhere instead, watching as several young ladies are led onto the dance floor by the gentleman. The first few notes of a quadrille hum through the air.

"May I write my name on your dance card?" He asks after a moment, his eyes intently looking at the paper that dangled from a ribbon around your wrist.

You looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise. "Me?"

"Surely, you will not have me dance with Percy?" He responds with pursed lips. His hand rises to pinch your card in between his fingers. He raises his brow for confirmation.

Your eyes narrow instantly. Your tone is near accusatory when you voice your confusion. "Why, may I ask, should you wish to dance with me?"

"Must I need a reason to?" He counters.

"Seeing as we've been at each other's throats throughout the entire season, I would assume so, yes." You nod your head. He was acting out of sorts, and it was terribly bothersome. Ever since he returned from abroad, there has been an evident shift in his attitude, more so in his treatment of you. "I believe I am owed an explanation."

You clear your throat, adding: "Perhaps you've taken a sip too many of your whiskey."

"Shall I breathe in your face to prove my sobriety?" Luke remarks dryly. "Indulge me for old times' sake. We learned to dance together, after all."

Memories of a sweltering july tucked in your family's country home came in a vague recollection— guests invited over to stay for a short retreat, taking daily swims in the bay, relaxing underneath a canopy of trees, munching on more sweets tinted blue than you could ever consume again, and a disgruntled gentleman teaching (or at least attempting to) you and Luke the beginning sequences of a routine.

He stands with an arm against his hip, his gaze neutral but his fidgeting made you aware of his impatience. You squinted your eyes as if in thought, aiming to irk him further.

"Vexing woman," He mutters underneath his breath as he grabs the drinking glass from your hold and gingerly places it on top of a cabinet. He takes your hand in his and leads you to the dancefloor just as a waltz is announced.

"Another gentleman's name could have been written on my card." You chastise him. He stretches your clasped hands to the side, his other hand moving to rest at your waist. Though you've not danced with him in a long time, your other hand immediately lays on his shoulder. Both of your feet move in tandem, limbs moving gracefully without much thought.

"I highly doubt it. You've been keeping to yourself the entire evening." He sniffs to dismiss your point. "I must admit, I found it difficult to discern where you ended and the wallpaper began."

You step on his foot. He groans. You smile.

He guides you through practiced circles around the dance floor, never missing a step or beat. His eyes bore into yours, a deep brown that reminded you of chocolate ganache and dancing flames, of warm summers and breezy evenings, of playful goading and a mutual respect, of innocence and an imperciptible heat you've not paid any mind too up until his return.

"You look very lovely." He says abruptly, soft like a whisper; almost as if he had no intention of speaking the thought aloud.

"What?" You reply in disbelief.

"Unfortunate that such a pretty face should belong to a woman with such faulty hearing." He sighs mockingly, murmuring under his breath but loud enough for you to hear. You attempt to step on his foot again, but he moves just in time with an omniscient grin. He repeats his words with more clarity. "I said you look very lovely."

"I..." You struggle for a response. You avert your gaze, blushing. "Thank you."

The music slowly comes to an end and as you separate to bow, he seizes your hand once more. He places a gentle kiss on the back of your glove before turning your palm. His eyes lock on yours as he bends down to kiss your wrist, his lips meeting your pulse. You feel your heartbeat become more erratic with each moment his gaze lingers.

"Well done, sister." Percy claps his hands from behind you. Luke stands straighter, though his lotions are more fluid. "This is the first time I've seen you dance without tripping on your own feet."

"Oh, shut up." You huff, pushing him back into the crowd. Luke follows behind you with a chuckle, his fingers dancing with the ribbon dangling at the back of your frock.

taglist: @ryujinraven (SORRY POOKIE IT SLIPPED MY MIND)

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy pjo #pjo tv show #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson

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wheresarizona · 11 months

Text

Float Like a Feather

pairing: Joel Miller/inexperienced f!reader

summary: You like to go to the bar at night, have a shot, and dance to the jukebox until it tires you out. Joel likes to go to the bar, have a couple of drinks, and watch you dance, entranced by how carefree and happy you look. Ellie thinks it's disgusting how you stare at each other with moon eyes and decides it’s time Joel finally talks to you.

rating: E (18+!! This is basically smut with some plot. No y/n, age gap (20-25 years), Soft Joel Miller, reader isn’t a virgin but is very inexperienced, Joel is extremely sweet in showing how good sex can be, alternating pov, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f receiving/first time), vaginal fingering, (1) pussy slap, spit mention, dirty talk, praise kink, a hint of Protective Joel, a couple of ma’am’s, Good Parent Joel, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, Ellie being the best wingman, Joel supporting his lesbian daughter, a touch of pregnancy, Joel holding a baby, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)

word count: 7.1k+

a/n: My dearest friend @dresupi sent me the song Stella by Cereus Bright as a prompt for Joel Miller, and this is what happened. I’m going to be honest and tell you this is completely self-indulgent. Thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

Jackson is just so… normal.

Or at least as normal as a town can be in an apocalypse.

Returning with Ellie, they were given duties like every other person who lived there to keep the place continuing to be normal.

They’ve been there a little over a month, and Joel already has a routine: up at seven am, making sure Ellie gets up, too (ignores her grumbling), goes with her to the canteen to have breakfast (ignores her glares). They split up to go do their jobs for the day, him returning to the house around five, showering the day away, then goes to have dinner with Ellie at six (happily listens about her day and the girl she’s taken a liking to named Cat). She goes to hang out with her new friends, and he likes to go sit in the bar to have a couple of drinks over a few hours and people-watch.

It’s more person-watch, or at least each time he’s gone, there’s only one person who catches his eye.

Every night at around eight, you make your way into the bar, taking a shot of something clear at the bartop, then going to the jukebox, putting on a song, and dancing.

It’s not one song, or two, you keep them going and dancing until there’s a sheen of sweat on your skin, and you finally have to get some water.

It entrances him with how carefree you are, how happy you are, your eyes closed, smiling as you just lose yourself to the music, moving to the beat.

Sometimes people join you, sometimes men try to convince you to get a drink with them that you always politely decline, and Joel would feel like a creep, but sometimes your eyes open and lock with his, and you wink at him, which always makes him so damn flustered. He knows you’re aware of him because when you enter the bar, your attention goes to his corner table, smiling at him before you go take your shot.

There’s no way in hell you’re interested in him, though—he’s way too old for someone so young and lively. You probably just enjoy having an audience watching as you float across the dance floor, having the time of your life.

It doesn’t matter anyway because he’s convinced himself he’s fine on his own and doesn’t need anyone. He isn’t even sure if he can allow himself to care for another person, not after all the ones he’s lost—so all of his focus has been on his kid and keeping her safe.

He’s sitting at his usual table with his whiskey in front of him, watching as you dance to an upbeat 80s song in your black leggings and purple tank top, when suddenly someone is plopping down in the seat next to him, taking him from his reverie, quickly turning his head to realize it’s just Ellie.

“Is that her?” she asks, pointing at you moving in the empty space in front of the jukebox used as a makeshift dance floor.

He feels a flush creeping up his neck, “Don’t point,” he says, lowering her hand. “It’s rude.”

“Fine, Joel, I won’t point.” She rolls her eyes. “But is that her?” she nods her head toward you.

“Is that who?”

“The woman Tommy says you stare at with moon eyes but are too chicken shit to ask out.”

His face pinches in anger, turning his attention to the teen. “I do not stare at her with fuckin’ moon eyes,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, you do. It’s disgusting—just ask her out already.”

“I’m too old for her,” he replies, taking a drink.

“You are fucking old, but with how she looks at you, I don’t think she gives a fuck.”

He lowers his glass. “How does she look at me?” he asks quietly, and Ellie grins.

“Your sight must be going, old man,” she ribs. “She looks at you with the same goddamn moon eyes, and it’s obvious she likes you, too.”

“That’s a fuckin’ lie—ain’t nothin’ obvious.”

“Well, you’re the only person she looks at, so…”

He perks up.

“Am I?”

That can’t be…

“Yep, and you should just finally make a fucking move.”

He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Why are you givin’ me shit when you’re too chicken shit yourself?”

Her eyes round.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He lowers his voice to make sure nobody else would hear.

“You like Cat, and from the times you’ve brought her around, she likes you, too.” He shrugs. “I’m not the only one with fuckin’ moon eyes.”

“Ah ha!” She points at him. “You do have a crush!”

“Keep it down,” he hisses, frantically looking your way and seeing you’re still dancing without a care.

“Jesus, Joel—chill out. I wanna make you a deal.”

“What’s that?” he asks, meeting her eyes with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll ask out Cat if you ask out Dancing Queen over there.” She juts her thumb toward the dance floor.

He lets out a long low sigh scrubbing his hand over his face because Ellie was his kid, and he wants her to be happy, and she’s happy with Cat. If this will get her to do something about her own crush, he obviously has to do it, but it will be so fucking embarrassing when he gets shot down.

“Fine.”

“Fuck yeah! She’s heading to the bar. Now’s your chance.”

His eyes go wide. “Now? You want me to do it now?” He figured he’d have time to work up the courage—he’s rusty.

“Yeah. Go.” She pushes on his shoulder, and Joel reluctantly gets up with a groan, scratching at the back of his neck as he walks toward you. Looking back at Ellie, she’s grinning and giving him two thumbs up, which spurs him on to do what she asked.

You’re chugging a glass of water, your skin glistening in the lights of the bar from sweat, and Joel thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

He approaches, taking a deep breath. He finally clears his throat. “Um, excuse me, ma’am?”

Setting the cup down, you turn to face him with the most beautiful smile curling up on your lips.

“Cute corner guy!” you say, and his cheeks heat.

“The name’s Joel,” he replies, sticking out his hand.

“Hi, Joel—” You introduce yourself, shaking his offered palm, and he notices how much smaller yours is. “—I’ve been waiting for you to come talk to me.”

His eyebrows are in his hairline. “You… have?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re very handsome, and don’t stare at me like you’re picturing me naked. It’s honestly refreshing. Wanna have a drink with me?”

He smiles. “I’d like that very much.”

Ellie has disappeared, and the two of you take up residence at his usual table. He finds you’re lovely to talk to—learning you’d been in Jackson almost six months, you lived in the Denver QZ before that, your age which had him wondering why in the hell you were even giving him the time of day, and you hadn’t crossed paths outside the bar in the rotation of jobs because you were a teacher down at the school full time.

“—so the dancin’ helps wear you out so you can sleep?” he asks.

“Yes.” You nod. “Insomnia is an absolute bitch, but if I can get myself tired enough, I’ll finally sleep—so dancing, which is much more fun than going for a jog or running.”

“Fuckin’ hate runnin’,” he replies, taking a drink.

You giggle. “I do, too,” you say, taking your own sip. “Was that your daughter earlier?” you ask.

“Oh.” He scratches his mustache. “Kinda? I’ve basically adopted her as my own, and she lives with me, but she doesn’t call me dad or anythin’ like that.” He shrugs.

“Okay, so you’ve got a kid, are from the Boston QZ, have been in Jackson for a month, are Tommy Miller’s brother, prefer whiskey, have the most gorgeous brown eyes, and enjoy watching random women dance in bars.”

He huffs out a breath, knowing his cheeks are tinted pink, darting his eyes away.

“I, uh, apologize if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable…”

You touch his bare forearm on the table, his flannel shirt’s sleeves rolled up, and his skin tingles under your palm.

“I promise you don’t make me uncomfortable at all. To tell you the truth, I quite enjoy you watching me and kinda hoped you’d talk to me sooner… or join me.”

He meets your gaze, swallowing hard, surprised at the hope swelling in his chest.

“I, uh, apologize again, but this time for bein’ so forward because I haven’t talked to a beautiful woman in quite some time, and I just want to make sure I’m not misreadin’ things…?”

You smile warmly at him.

“Joel, I am very interested in you romantically, and one drink away from being brave enough to see if you want to come back to my place.”

You do like him, and he’s honest to god shocked. He’d convinced himself he was better off alone, but maybe having someone wouldn’t be too bad. Jackson is safe, there isn’t much risk aside from patrols, and Ellie seemed to think he needs somebody—and you’re so beautiful and sweet; he was already gone on you before he’d spoken to you, and now that he knows he’s got a chance, he’s not going to waste it.

He gulps, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as arousal crashes into him like a freight train.

His voice goes deeper. “I can promise you, I’d say yes.” He has to ask, though. “You really want an old guy like me?”

Smirking, you answer, “Oh, yeah, I really like you, and I just know you’ll be good in bed.” You wink, rubbing your hand up his arm.

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s been a long fuckin’ time, and I’m out of practice, so it might not be as good as you’re hopin’...”

“Good thing we’ve got all night for you to practice over and over and over again,” you purr.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, his jeans feeling much tighter. “You, uh—”

“Want to get the fuck out of here?” you interrupt, smiling at him. “I’d like that very much.”

Joel Miller is a goddamn sweetheart and a really good kisser.

The moment your front door is closed, he has you against it, kissing you hard—one of his hands cradling your face, the other moving up your stomach to grab your breast, moaning when his tongue slips between your lips to tangle with your own.

Arousal is burning brightly in your belly, your cunt throbbing with need, wanting this man desperately.

You, of course, had taken notice of Cute Corner Guy Joel Miller the first night he’d gone to the bar for a drink. Those beautiful brown eyes never looked at you salaciously. If anything, it was more in wonder and so unbelievably adorable you’d been dying to talk to him but wanted to ensure he made the first move to know he liked you and not just the show you put on. It didn’t matter to you that there were quite a few years between your ages; he’s incredibly attractive, and you wanted to know more about him. Plus, as a bonus, you’ve heard older men who grew up before the world went to shit were very generous in bed, which would be nice since your little bit of experience with guys your own age hasn’t been all that great.

Your fingers are working open the buttons on his shirt, his tongue sliding along yours in a way that makes your toes curl, him interrupting by grabbing the hem of your tank top, tugging it and your sports bra over your head in one go, tossing them away without a care. Returning to what you were doing, Joel's big hands are on your tits, trailing kisses down your neck until he’s bending to suck one of your pebbled nipples between his lips.

“Oh, god,” you gasp at the sensations shooting straight to your pussy.

He comes off you with a wet pop, smirking. “It’s Joel, but close.”

“A dumb joke—fuck, that’s hot.” His shirt was undone, impatiently pushing it off his arms and taking in his broad chest and the little bit of softness on his belly, noticing scars, some old, some new, littering his golden skin. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

He’s palming your breasts, his big, expressive eyes looking at you, and you can see the honesty in his gaze when he replies, “You’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

“God, you’re so fucking endearing—I need your dick inside me,” you say, rubbing your hand over the impressive bulge in his jeans.

He chuckles. “Bedroom?”

“End of the hall.” You point.

He’s on you again, his lips crushing against yours, his hands on your waist to help guide you as he moves you away from the door, walking you backward down your hall, kicking off your shoes as you go.

You’re glad your tiny two-bedroom house was clean, squeaking in surprise when you basically get thrown into the middle of your queen-size bed, a lamp on your bedside table illuminating the room in a soft glow.

Sitting up on your elbows, you watch as he toes off his shoes, his belt clanking as he works it open, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He pushes them down and off with a groan, delightfully discovering that Joel goes commando and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen—long and slightly curved up with a nice girth to it, the tip reddened and shining with precum, your eyes going wide at how big he is.

For the first time, you think you might want to try blowing a guy, never having an opportunity before with people’s personal hygiene iffy outside of the town walls.

His attention is back on you, leaning over the mattress to grab the waistbands of your leggings and underwear, pulling them both off before he crawls up onto the bed between your spread legs.

“Can I suck your dick?” you ask.

His gaze is burning when it meets yours, shaking his head. “Sorry, baby. You can later, but right now, I gotta taste your pretty little pussy.”

Your eyebrows lift. “You’re gonna eat me out?”

No one has ever gone down on you. It’s always been quick fucks to scratch an itch—dear god, Joel’s going to ruin you for anyone else, you just know it, and it excites you immensely.

“May I?” he asks in return.

“Yeah, but you should know it’ll be the first time…”

His face goes pale, his eyes widening. “Havin’ sex…?” he croaks.

“What? No, I’ve had sex—” He visibly relaxes. “—a handful of times. There’s just never been much… foreplay? Kinda thought it was a myth.” You shrug your shoulders.

He’s frowning. “It ain’t no myth and a fuckin’ shame no one’s tasted you,” he says, moving onto his stomach, his big hands pushing your thighs apart with his head at the apex of your thighs, staring at your pussy with a look of hunger. He spread open the lips of your sex with his fingers. “I could spend hours with my face buried in this gorgeous cunt,” he rasps, his words making your core clench hard around nothing.

“Fuck,” you whisper. Anticipation is swelling up inside you, suddenly blurting, “Can I keep you?”

You feel the blood rush to your face. ‘Can I keep you?’ Where the fuck did that come from, and how are you hoping he’ll respond, that he wants to date you? Actually, yes, that is your hope.

He meets your gaze with a confused look. “What?” he asks.

Taking a deep breath, you say, “I really like you and don’t want this to be a one-time thing… Can I keep you?” You chew on your bottom lip.

His face softens, eyes on yours as he kisses your inner thigh. “Yeah,” he replies. “You can keep me if I can keep you—I’m a one-woman kinda guy, anyway.”

“I can be your one woman?”

He smiles. “I’d like that very much, Tiny Dancer. Your, uh, handful of times, did any of them make you come…?”

The question has your face heating, answering, “...no. I usually took care of myself…”

He looks honest to god offended. “Fucking selfish men,” he seethes. “That won’t do. Here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna lick your pussy and use my fingers to make you come at least twice—It’s been a while, but I sure as fuck remember how to pleasure a woman. Then I’ll give you my dick, and I’ll be honest, I don’t know how long I’ll last bein’ inside your tight little cunt, but I’m aimin’ to make you come one more time, and that’ll be round one.”

The way he sounds so sure has you throbbing.

“Just marry me already, Joel.”

Your comment makes him laugh. “Let me take you out a few more times, and then we can discuss marriage,” he replies with a wink.

“Fucking deal.”

There’s an earnest expression on his face. “If I’m doin’ somethin’ you don’t like, tell me, no hard feelin’s—same goes for if there’s somethin’ you’re really likin’. I just wanna make you feel good, Tiny Dancer. You understand?”

You nodded your head.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Joel. I understand.”

He smiles. “Good girl.” His response has you gasping as tingles move down your spine. There’s a knowing smirk on his face. “You like that,” he states. “You like being my good girl—I know you’re gonna be real good for me, aren’t ya?”

Your lip is pulled between your teeth, so unbelievably turned on, nodding your head at his question.

His fingers slap against your clit, not hard, but enough it has sparks of pleasure igniting in your center, your head falling back as you moan.

“Words, baby,” he says.

“Yes, Joel,” you gasp.

“That’s my good girl. Feel free to pull my hair—I like it.” He ends the sentence with a wink, then his attention is back on your wet heat, watching him lick his lips, knowing he can see you glistening in arousal.

His fingers spread you open again.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he murmurs. “Bet you taste amazin’.”

He spits on your clit, your eyes going round, feeling the hot saliva as it slowly drips down to your sopping hole, moaning loudly when Joel’s head dips down, swiping his tongue through your folds from your entrance and back up.

It’s a new sensation and heavenly.

He’s groaning like he’s enjoying the most amazing meal, licking every bit of your sensitive flesh he can get. The beginnings of your orgasm are taking shape, feeling the heat starting to build low in your belly, and when his lips latch around your bundle of nerves, and he sucks, that’s when your hands end up in his grey hair, needing something to hold onto.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan. “It’s so good. Joel, it’s so good. Don’t stop.”

It’s almost overwhelming, your body starting to writhe, his arm like iron over your lower stomach to keep you still, his facial hair scratching deliciously on your intimate skin while he licks and sucks at you with abandon. You see him between your legs, your fingers tangled in his grey waves, his eyes closed as he feasts on you like a man starved—they open to meet your gaze, his glazed over and so dark you’re not sure any of the beautiful brown remains.

“You’re gonna make me come.” The muscles in your belly start to tighten, his tongue licking your entrance while his head shakes, nuzzling your clit with his perfect nose, and the sensations send you over the edge, your body tensing up as you come with a shout of his name, euphoria exploding in your veins.

You're panting as you fall back flat onto the bed, hearing Joel’s muffled voice saying into your cunt, good girl, him groaning as he shoves his tongue inside you to lick up your release.

You’re in love with him.

Or maybe that’s just the happy chemicals coursing through your body.

God, he’s perfect—how could you not fall in love with him?

His head pops up. “How was it?” his rough voice asks.

“I’m in love with you,” you answer dreamily.

His chuckle is warm. “That good?”

“Oh, yeah. Fucking incredible.” You sit back up on your elbows to look down at him, your slick coating his facial hair around his mouth and the bottom half of his face. “This is what I’ve been missing? I am mad but also so fucking happy you finally talked to me.”

“You, uh, really were waitin’ for me to talk to you?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I love your beautiful, expressive eyes, and you’ve always looked at me differently than other men, almost like you were seeing me and not just my body, you know? And I just really wanted to get to know you. I figured all of the winks and smiles would clue you in that I was interested.”

“I just thought you liked havin’ an audience.”

“You’re literally the only person I like watching me.”

He sighs loudly, looking away. “I feel dumb for not realizin’ sooner.” He shakes his head. “Fuck, I wouldn’t have even made a move if Ellie hadn’t put me up to it.”

You smile. “What, did she dare you?”

He has the sweetest smile when he meets your eyes. “No, she made a deal with me that she’d ask out her crush if I asked out mine.”

“That is the cutest shit, and I do not know why you being a good dad really does it for me. Come up here and kiss me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, groaning as he crawls up the bed, ending up with his hips in the cradle of your thighs, feeling his cock all hot and hard digging into your belly. His arms are on either side of your head to hold himself up, his face above your own. “You’re beautiful,” he says, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “You’re very handsome.”

His lips hover over your own. “You want me to kiss you?” he whispers.

“Please.”

“As my lady commands,” he responds, slotting his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

You moan at tasting yourself on his lips, your hands ending up in his hair, opening for his tongue to slip inside and slide along your own. It gets more and more fervent, your body thrumming in desire until the need becomes too much, and you’re murmuring into his mouth. “Fuck me.”

He groans, answering, “Can’t yet—gotta make sure you can take me.”

You break the kiss, his mouth red and kiss swollen, his dark eyes looking at you questioningly.

“I’m wet enough,” you reply. “Just stick it in.”

He inhales deeply. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

“Isn’t it supposed to hurt?”

It’s always a bit uncomfortable at first.

His eyes squeeze shut, taking a deep breath, whispering, Jesus Christ, on the exhale. “No, sweetheart, it’s not supposed to hurt if you’re doin’ it right.”

“Oh.” You’re frowning. “Joel?”

He looks at you. “Yes, Tiny Dancer?”

“I’ve had sex with the wrong people, haven’t I?”

“Looks that way, but we’re changin’ that tonight.” He kisses you quickly before he moves to lie on his side beside you, one arm propping his head up, his other fingers skating up your stomach to your breasts, circling around one nipple, then the other, making you shiver and goosebumps erupt on your skin. “I’m gonna use my fingers,” he rasps, his finger now circling your belly button. “I need to open you up—is that alright?”

“Yes.” You nod. “As we’ve discovered, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing—can’t believe I’ve been doing sex wrong.”

He sighs. “Just chose selfish assholes who didn’t give a fuck about you or your comfort.” His eyes narrow, eyebrows knitting together, his hand pausing. “Do any of ‘em live here?” he asks in a low tone, and the change in demeanor makes you gulp.

“So you can teach them a lesson…?”

“I just wanna talk, is all.”

“Uh-huh, right. With your fists? The enthusiasm is sexy, Joel, but they’re all back in Colorado.”

“A shame.”

You cup his cheek. “Just means you get to show me how to have good sex, and isn’t that exciting?” you ask, wagging your eyebrows. “You’re the first man who’s made me come, and I’d really like to do that with your dick inside me.”

“Fuck,” the word is said barely above a whisper, seeing his throat bob as he swallows. “You’re gonna be the goddamn death of me. I fuckin’ know it.”

Smiling, you pat his cheek. “Never, Joel. I like you too damn much.”

He has a little smirk. “Yeah? You like me?”

“I mean, I’m counting this as our first date, and I’ve already told you I’m in love with you and have basically proposed marriage, so I’d say yes, I like you very much.”

He chuckles, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip. “You’re so fuckin’ cute.” He presses two fingers to your lips. “Suck,” he orders. “Get ‘em nice and wet so I can loosen you up ‘cause I am fuckin’ dyin’ to be inside you.”

Doing as he says, you suck them into your mouth, massaging them with your tongue, ensuring you’re getting them nice and wet, feeling delighted when his mouth falls open.

“Have uh—” He pauses to audibly gulp. “You asked if you could suck my dick. Have you ever…?”

His fingers leave you, shining in spit.

“No,” you answer, shaking your head. “It’d be another first.”

His eyes get darker, moving his hand between your legs, sucking in a breath when he slowly circles your clit, causing sparks of arousal to dance in your belly.

“Fuck, baby, I’ll show you how a bit later—I’m still convinced you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” his voice is huskier, dipping his fingers lower to press one thick finger into your aching entrance. “Especially,” he continues, sliding in another digit that makes you moan at the stretch, “with this pussy.” His fingers are pumping in and out of you while his thumb moves on your bundle of nerves, the fire burning low in your stomach, slowly building. He scissors his digits, and you gasp his name.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning over you to give you a quick kiss. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him back down for another that he smiles into, him murmuring against your lips, “Gotta get you really fuckin’ wet and stretch you out a bit, pretty girl. I want you to love havin’ my dick inside you and make you feel so good, you beg me to fuck you again—bet you wouldn’t let any of those other guys back inside this perfect pussy.” You’re whimpering, energy thrumming under your skin as he works you up. “Fuck, you’ve made me so fuckin’ hard it hurts. All I can think about is how fuckin’ tight and warm you’ll be when I finally split you open on my cock—Hell, might even make me come on the spot. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya? Knowing your sweet little cunt drives me fuckin’ wild—you drive me wild, I’m fuckin’ crazy about you and wanna be the only man you want or need.”

He kisses you again, his words making your heart pound in your chest, your body burning up, pushing you closer and closer to your release.

“You are,” you moan into his mouth.

“I’m what?”

“The only man I want.” Your fingers have a tight grip on his grey strands of hair. “It’s so fucking good, Joel—you’re fingers feel so fucking good. Oh my god, you’re gonna make me come again.”

“Damn straight, I am.”

He crooks his fingers, sliding them along your top wall until he rubs something that has you pulling his hair and moaning his name, your back arching. “There it fuckin’ is.” He sped up, fucking his digits into it over and over, the fire in your belly getting hotter and hotter.

“You gonna come for me?” he asks, hearing his fingers moving in and out of you wetly. “Can feel you fuckin’ flutterin’, I know you’re close.”

There’s no time for you to answer because you’re hitting your breaking point and coming with a gasp of his name, your cunt seizing up as pleasure radiates through your body.

“There we fuckin’ go,” he says into your lips. “My good girl.” He kisses you hard, pressing a third finger inside you, the wetness from your orgasm easing the way. Your mind is a pleasurable haze, enjoying his lips on yours while he spreads his fingers, reveling in the delicious stretch.

He breaks the kiss, pulling back, and you open your eyes to see his already on yours.

“I think you’re ready,” he says. “You still want my dick?”

“Yes.” You nod. “I’ve never wanted dick more.”

That makes him smile.

“Good,” he replies, nuzzling his nose against yours before kissing you softly.

His fingers leave you, groaning as he moves to have his body hovering over yours with one arm beside your head, holding himself up while kneeling between your legs.

He meets your gaze. “You tell me if it doesn’t feel good.”

“Yes, Joel.” You nod again.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His free hand comes up to his mouth, spitting on his fingers, using them to slick up his cock, then he slides his length through your folds to get himself even wetter. He notches at your entrance and slowly starts pushing in, it feeling like he’s splitting you open, your cunt accommodating his girth, stretching around him, filling you inch by glorious inch.

He’s cursing under his breath as he slides in all the way, and when he’s bottomed out, you feel so unbelievably full it has you gasping—your fingers are digging into his shoulders, Joel’s face pressing into your neck.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, the sound muffled. “You’re pussy’s gonna make me come.” The thought of him coming inside you has you clenching around him. “Fuck,” he pants. “Don’t do that—I need a second, or this is gonna end before it’s started.”

You’ve never let someone come inside you, yet here you are saying roughly, “Joel?”

His head comes up immediately to look you in the eyes with worry on his brow.

“Am I hurtin’ you?” he asks earnestly. “Is it too much?”

“No, it’s so fucking good—it feels so fucking good. You feel so good inside me.”

“What is it, Tiny Dancer?”

“I want you to come inside me. Please.”

He hisses, a pained look coming over his face, feeling his cock jerk. “I can’t,” he pants. “Can’t risk it—you can have it anywhere else.”

“Okay,” you reply, trying not to sound too downtrodden—it’s his choice, after all, and you respect it.

“Sorry, baby,” he kisses you sweetly. “I’m gonna move.” He pulls one of your legs up high on his ribs, then the other, both of his arms ending up on either side of your head, locking your feet at the small of his back, feeling the splay of muscles move as he pulls almost all the way and pushes back in, both your mouths falling open. He starts with a slow, steady rhythm, his dick carving out space in your depths and filling you perfectly. He’s so big that when he pushes all the way inside, it feels like he’s all up in your guts, the feeling stealing your breath, but it’s so good—his cock is pressing into spots you didn’t know existed, that familiar heat making itself known in your lower belly.

Sex has never felt like this.

He’d gotten you so wet, he’s sliding easily in and out of you, hearing the suck of your pussy taking him. It’s blowing your mind at how fucking amazing it feels, even with him being so well-endowed, there isn’t any discomfort—you’re moaning unbidden, unable to keep it in, Joel breathing hard, him slowly picking up the pace until he’s grunting, and there’s a slap of skin on skin, his thick cock filling you over and over.

The only thing you can think about is how good he feels, pleasure wracking through your body with every push and pull of his hips. Your nails are digging into the skin of his shoulder blades, Joel's mouth fusing with yours to kiss you while he fucks.

“Touch yourself,” he says into your lips, and you slide a hand into the little bit of space between your bodies to play with your clit. His golden skin glistens in sweat, a beautiful flush crawling up from his chest to his gorgeous neck and cheeks, rough sounds pulling from his throat as he kisses you. Your fingers work against your sensitive nub, and it has you rocketing closer and closer to your end before you’re coming again, crying out his name, your body tensing, your pussy squeezing him so tight, a strangled groan escapes Joel as he has to slow to a stop.

Your body is alight in ecstasy, Joel nose to nose with you, a drop of sweat on the tip of his falling onto yours, saying through heavy breaths, “You almost fuckin’ got me.”

Blinking open your eyes, you look up at him with a dreamy smile.

“Yeah?” you ask, voice rougher than usual. “Am I gonna make you come?”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are.”

“Good—come for me.”

He starts moving again, his hips pushing in and out of you, hearing the wet slide of his cock fucking into you.

His face screws up like he’s in pain, his mouth slack, eyebrows knitting together, eyes closed, grunting as he sets up a hard pace that makes your eyes roll back.

It’s so fucking good.

“I want you to come for me,” you moan. “I want you to feel good, Joel.” Your hands move into his sweat-damp hair.

“I feel so fuckin’ good with you,” he groans, crashing his mouth to yours, kissing you desperately, all tongues and teeth, your noses bumping.

The springs in the mattress are squeaking, the headboard hitting the wall in time with his thrusts, the slick sounds of your pussy taking him filling the air, combined with moans and groans, the noises in the room are absolutely obscene.

He’s panting into your mouth, picking up in speed, his rhythm getting jerky.

It’s been a long fucking time since he last fucked someone, and he’s so fucking lost inside your pussy—it’s nirvana, heaven, your tight, wet heat lulling him to his finish, his brain unable to think of anything else except how good you feel around him; how perfect, your cunt hugging his cock snugly in your deep, warm depths, and making him lose his goddamn mind.

He told you he couldn’t come inside you—that’s been a hard no for him ever since he lost Sarah, not wanting to risk bringing another child into this godforsaken world, and here you are tempting him.

His conundrum is he likes you a lot, and he knows you like him, too, and not only that, you just like him—there’s no ulterior motive, you don’t want or expect anything from him except him, and he’s so fucking gone on you that maybe it might not be a bad thing if consequences happen from this evening.

Here in this somewhat normal town, he can see you having a life together. One night, and he’d like to have a life with you or whatever you’re willing to give him. He’s spent so many years suffering in his grief and wasting away his days that maybe it’s time for him to actually live. Ellie’s here and safe, and now you’ve come into the picture, and he doesn’t want to keep living the way he has been.

He’s feeling so fucking good, caught up in how you’ve bewitched him, his strokes getting faster, the knot in his belly winding tighter and tighter—it hits him suddenly—the point of no return, his balls tightening up, and it’s too late to pull out, he’s too far gone. His cock is pushed in all the way to the hilt when the coil snaps, coming with a guttural groan that reverberates in his chest, spurts and spurts of his spend gushing deep inside you, Joel feeling like he’s filling you to the brim.

Pleasure is thrumming in his veins, his heart pounding, collapsing on top of you with his face nestled in the crook of your neck, panting breaths and comforted by your scent—your fingers are moving in his hair, and he’s on cloud nine.

The thing that surprises him is he’s not panicking. At minimum, he expected dread, yet there’s nothing but warmth and happy contentment.

When was the last time he felt this blissed out?

He can’t even fucking remember—he hasn’t felt this relaxed in probably over twenty years.

You say something, but he’s so out of it he doesn’t make out the words.

He hums in question, putting all of his energy into listening.

“I said I’m keeping you.”

Joel snorts.

“Good,” he murmurs. “I’m keepin’ you, too. Fuckin’ milked me dry.”

“Was that okay?” you ask, and he can hear your worry, lifting his head to look you in the eyes.

“I’m well aware of what could happen—are you okay with that?”

There’s a small smile on your lips. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then everything’s okay.” He kisses you tenderly.

After a minute, you pull back. “You’re gonna stay the night, right? Like, we can do… more?”

He smiles. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, and I’m assumin’ you have it off?”

“I do.”

“So do I, and I’d love to stay tonight and the next if you’ll have me.”

Your mouth is turned up in that gorgeous smile, him loving your fingers pushing his hair away from his face. “You can stay forever, Joel.”

And there isn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.

2 years later…

It’s a warmer night, with it being the beginning of summer. The stars shine brightly in the sky high above as Joel and you stroll hand in hand down the street back to his house.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” you tell him, turning your head to look at him, the moon offering some light.

He meets your eyes. “Anytime, Tiny Dancer—it was better than me fightin’ that fucker who wouldn’t leave you alone.”

The bar had been packed tonight, with a lot more people dancing and one guy, who you assumed was new to town, that wouldn’t stop bothering you, which led to Joel getting up from his corner table and staring daggers at the other man as he pulled you into his arms and danced with you.

“It was better, and I enjoyed it very much.”

He smiles. “I know you did, baby,” he replies, kissing your hair.

Arriving at the house, Joel opens the front door for you, walking in first, hearing sounds in the living room, and heading that way.

“...Oh no!” Ellie exclaims dramatically. “They’re gonna get you—better use the jump drive!” As you walk into the room, she makes rocket noises, finding her lying on her back in the middle of the floor, holding up a laughing one-year-old, pretending the baby is flying. “Oh, yuck, you got drool in my mouth, Ollie.” She lowers the baby down on her chest to wipe at her mouth, Joel standing beside you, his arm going around your waist, both of you smiling. Her head tilts up, realizing you’re standing there. “Hey!” she greets. “Wait, fuck, how late is it?”

“Late enough that Olivia should be asleep,” you answer.

Olivia Sarah Miller was a year and three months old and looked so much like her dad that, aside from her complexion, it was a wonder if she’d gotten any of your genes.

“Fuck.” Ellie sits up with one arm, the other holding the baby. “I can explain—you know she has that tooth coming in, and she wouldn’t stop crying when I tried to put her in bed, so I brought her down here so she could chew on a cold carrot like you told me to do when she’s teething. While she was doing that, I was reading her that issue of Savage Starlight Joel found me, and then you know, she wanted to be Dr. Daniela Star and travel faster than light.”

“Uh huh,” Joel says. “Olive wanted to be the Doctor?”

“She did,” Ellie confirms.

“Your baby sister, who can barely talk, told you that?” he asks.

“I’ve learned to translate her babbles, and it was clear she said—” Ellie uses her free hand to make the baby’s bottom lip move to look like she’s talking. “—‘Ellie, I wanna fly.’”

“You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Olivia yawns, her eyes starting to close on their own.

Ellie grins, speaking quietly, “Yeah, but I tired her out, so you’re fuckin’ welcome.”

Joel sighs, walking over to her, the baby looking up at her dad and holding up her little chubby arms, saying in a tired voice, “Dadadadadada.”

“Yes, baby girl,” he answers fondly. “Daddy’s home.” He groans as he bends down to pick her up, the baby shoving her face in his neck, putting one of her hands on his chin. “Thank you for watchin’ her, Ellie,” he says. “A great job, as always. You stayin’ the night here or goin’ over to Cat’s?”

“Heading to Cat’s, but I’ll meet you guys for breakfast in the morning,” she replies, getting up from the floor.

“We’ll see you then, kiddo.”

“Thanks again, Ellie,” you tell her, smiling. “You’re your sister’s favorite babysitter.”

“Fuck yeah, I am!” she replies in whispered exclamation, walking closer to you. “Hopefully, I’ll be the next one’s favorite, too. How’s my brother doing?”

You snort. “Such high hopes it’s a boy when you know Joel is a girl dad—give me your hand.” She holds it out to you, and you press it to your large swollen belly. “Feel them kicking?”

Her eyes are round in wonder, staring at your stomach. “Strong fuckin’ kicks,” she says. “I definitely think it’s a boy.”

“Well, less than two months, and we’ll know.”

“Yeah, soon I’ll be proven right. Night guys!”

“Goodnight,” you both reply, watching as she heads out of the living room, hearing the front door open and close.

Olivia is passed out in Joel’s arms, him turning his head to kiss her forehead, his big hand rubbing up and down her back.

“Let’s go put her down,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he answers just as quietly. “I believe I made a promise to my wife I’d eat her out for an hour.”

“Pretty sure it was two hours, and you did, my sweet husband.” Reaching up to stroke his cheek.

“I love you,” he says with big eyes full of devotion, his head moving to kiss your palm.

“I love you, too.”

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yyunari · 6 months

Text

CHESHIRE ! — Nishimura Riki

SYNOPSIS. Y/N Cheshire lived her life carefree. Being the daughter of the Cheshire Cat made her more inclined to not take anything seriously and to just have a little bit of fun in everything she does. Whether it was pulling pranks, sneaking up on people, or making jabs at her friends- Y/N kept a Cheshire’s smile on her face. Because of that, she just couldn’t take Chaehyun Cupid seriously when she claimed that Y/N had a crush on Riki Wonderland.

PLAYLIST. listen to cheshire’s soundtrack while reading!

PAIRING. Kitty Cheshire! Y/N × Alistair Wonderland! Riki

(not shipping kitty and alistair !)

GENRE. Ever After High AU, High school AU, Fluff, Slight Angst

WARNINGS. bad parental relationship, ooc riki, angst

WORD COUNT. around 18k

NOTES. ITS OUT!!! i’ve been working on this fic for months and i finally finished it😭😭💗 thank u @muhwaa my best friend my soulmate for life and my twin flame for motivating me to finish it <3 this is my first long fic so i hope i did it well !!!

1. Naps and feathers don’t mesh.

The lights around her felt brighter than usual, though Liz Lockes found herself in the starlight once again. It wasn’t that she was complaining- in fact, she rather enjoyed it. She felt a sense of solitude as the rest of the world seemed to fade as nothing else mattered.

Liz didn’t mean to fall asleep in the Enchanted Forest. While being in the forest didn’t freak her out much, as the Daughter of Goldilocks, it still felt like an absurd place to sleep. But she had an episode for her MirrorCast news show featuring some of the pixies that reside in the forest, and all the preparation along with the actual filming had made her rather sleepy. She thought that it wouldn’t be too harmful if she took a little rest by a tree. That rest turned into an hour long nap and although it was an accident, the nap had felt just right. Though, it wasn’t just right when she was awoken by a feather being wiggled above her sensitive nose.

How was that possible? She couldn’t see anyone actually holding the feather- was it some sort of a spell?

Liz felt her nose twitch ever so slightly before she finally sneezed. This caused the feather to fall onto her face, before she threw it onto the ground next to her. Barely awake, Liz didn’t feel it in herself to question what had just happened, so she stood up from the spot where she took her impromptu nap and began to leave the forest.

As she made it near the front, however, she spotted Y/N Cheshire curled up on the branch of a tree playing with a ball of yarn.

What was Y/N doing in the forest so late? Weird.

Liz found herself quite fond of the Cheshire Cat’s daughter and decided to make some conversation.

“Hey Y/N!” Liz waved. “What are you doing here?”

Y/N, who gazed at Liz with her cat-like eyes and unsettling smirk, let out a giggle. “Oh, I’m about to take a small catnap.”

A nap? At 9 P.M?

Liz thought it was interesting how alike Y/N was with her mother. Although most Ever After High students found themselves copying the mannerisms of their parents, there were the bunch that preferred not to follow their destinies and created personalities and hobbies for themselves. The latter, known as the Rebels, was a category that mostly students destined for evil or misfortune chose to fall into. But really, Rebels were just anyone who refused to follow their storybook ending. As someone who has a relatively simple destiny, it made sense for Y/N to be keen on following hers.

The blonde snapped out of her thoughts and turned back to Y/N. “That’s funny, I was just leaving from taking a nap of my own! Do you sleep in the forest often?”

“You could say that,” Y/N threw her ball of yarn onto the ground. “I enjoy coming here at night. The stars are really pretty, aren’t they Liz?”

Liz smiled. “They are! Especially in the forest, they just look so stunning.”

“You should come here more often then, I’m sure we’ll get along just right.”

Liz raised an eyebrow at the suspicious tone she had in her voice. Of course, it was known that Y/N enjoyed pulling pranks in her free time… and even when she was busy. Liz had even covered Y/N in one of her MirrorCast episodes.

That was slightly difficult, considering how evasive the girl was. But being the star reporter of Ever After High, Liz prided herself in her ability to make a story out of anything. Even when the subject was hard to work with.

Before she could ask any questions, she realized what Y/N had meant as she observed the girl take a feather out of her pocket.

The same kind of feather that had woken up Liz from her nap.

Really, there was no stopping her mischievous feats. Y/N acted on her own accord, convinced by no one but her mother. There truly was nothing she took seriously in life. The cat girl lived her life treating everything as if it were nothing, so it was only natural that how people felt about pranks wouldn’t affect her, Liz assumed at least. She brushed it all off and waved Y/N a goodbye.

After all, it wasn’t that serious to begin with.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

2. Cupid knows best.

“Hey Y/N, why do you always prank Riki?”

Y/N felt herself let out a snicker as her friend, Chaehyun Cupid, daughter of Eros, asked her a question. It was a silly one, really.

“What do you mean? I prank everyone- it’s kind of my thing.” Y/N pointed to the small cat hat that rested on her head.

Being the daughter of the Cheshire Cat, Y/N felt lots of pride in fulfilling her destiny. As such, she turned pranking people constantly into her niche. Riki Wonderland, son of Alice, was no different.

Chaehyun just rolled her eyes, leaning against Y/N’s locker. “You’ve pranked him 8 times this week already! There’s tons of people in this school so why are you targeting him specifically?”

Ningning Swan, daughter of The Swan Queen, pursed her lips. “Chae is right, you know? You’ve been pranking Riki too much recently. According to Beomgyu he’s getting pretty tired of it.”

Beomgyu Hood, son of Robin Hood, was Riki’s roommate. So if he claimed that Riki was getting annoyed then it was probably the truth.

But Y/N didn’t care much for what they were saying. Why should it matter if he feels burdened by her pranks or not? They were only in good fun, after all! She only pulled silly, lighthearted pranks. Y/N didn’t see the issue in that.

“Hey, why so serious guys?” Y/N put on her signature Cheshire smile. “I’m just here to have a good time. Whether or not I prank Riki most of the time is none of your business. Plus, Beomgyu is an idiot who lives in the woods and plays music for a living. His destiny is to be a thief. I wouldn’t trust anything that guy says.”

Ningning gave a soft smile. “He’s not that bad. He’ll be a thief who gives to the poor.”

Chaehyun turned to the swan girl with a knowing look, as the latter brushed it off and continued.

“As your closest friends, it is our business.” Ningning stated.

Y/N giggled, her movements laced with insincerity. “You’re my only friends.”

“Still makes us your closest! And don’t forget you have your Wonderland friends, Y/N.”

At that, Y/N shrugged, still adorning her wide and mischievous grin. It was true that Y/N didn’t have many friends. Naturally as someone who seeks chaos and disharmony in all she does, it was fit that people didn’t bother to get to know her. Being a rather secretive person, Y/N didn’t find herself too bothered by it (as she liked to convince herself). However, she was rather close with the other Ever After High students from Wonderland. Soul Hatter, son of the Mad Hatter, Giselle Hearts, daughter of the Queen of Hearts, and Rei Blanc, daughter of the White Rabbit. They all grew up together and were each other’s closest friends in childhood. The only other student missing from that list was Riki.

There was never a specific reason as to why the two never got close. Perhaps Riki disliked Y/N. Perhaps his mother had told him to avoid Y/N and her staple chaos. Perhaps Y/N had been subconsciously avoiding him. Whatever it was, Y/N and Riki remained civil with one another but never became friends.

There was, however, one instance that made Y/N feel slightly closer to the boy. One night that they had spent together… had he forgotten? She tried not to think much of it and figured he didn’t think about it either.

All the more reason as to why pranking him often wasn’t a big deal. They weren’t friends (as far as she was concerned) and were barely acquainted with one another past the basis of where they lived- so why was Chaehyun suddenly questioning it?

The bell rang, alerting students to get to their next classes.

“Y/N, you totally like Riki!” Chaehyun suddenly squealed. “I can see it in your eyes when you talk about him. You like him. Pranking him more often than others just means you’re deflecting your real feelings by acting like you don’t care about him. It’s very common when people have crushes.”

The thought made Y/N burst out into laughter. After all, come on. Her? Having romantic feelings for Riki? The same boy who peed his pants the first time they went from Wonderland to Ever After? Not a chance. She could care less for the cute blush on his face afterwards, or the way he laughed it off and acted like it wasn’t a big deal (it was, he had to run into a random house in the woods to clean himself up and that’s where he met Beomgyu). She would never admit that she only knew that because she had turned herself invisible and followed him. Y/N could say for sure that she found none of that appealing. Nothing about him in the slightest.

Even the notion that Y/N would have romantic interest for anyone was absurd.

But as an avid enjoyer of all that is lawless, Y/N just shrugged with a nonchalant expression. She wasn’t one to express herself. “I could tell you, but…” She trailed off in a fake train of thought before continuing. “Where’s the fun in that? Chaos is keeping people guessing, and that makes this kitty purr~”

Her friends deadpanned at her nonspecific phrasing. It was rather hard to get anything out of the shielded girl who embodied certain traits of a cat. Of course she acted as her own person and didn’t rely on her background or her mother to force her one way, but that was just the thing. She was only raised in that way so perhaps it was all she knew best.

Chaehyun smiled, knowing well that Y/N was in a state of denial. It held up- Y/N wasn’t the open type. Cats are feisty, after all. “Sweetie, I’m the daughter of Cupid. I think I know a thing or two about love- and most things in general.” All she needs is a little push.

Y/N smirked. “Most things, really? Because Yujin Hood is a wolf like her father but so far I’m the only one who’s seemed to notice.” Yujin Hood, daughter of Little Red Riding Hood. “It’s funny because she’s really obvious about it but somehow no one has caught on. I mean, why does everyone think she acts so shady and disappears often? She’s obviously hiding a secret.”

The two girls gasped at the news. Really? The thought of Yujin being a wolf felt so… bizarre. But it definitely explained her weird habits. “That’s cheating! You can teleport and turn invisible. You spy on people all the time.” Ningning said.

“You’re right, I can! Speaking of which… Headmaster Grimm is coming this way so I’m going to head to Home Evilnomics before Baba Yaga notices I’m not there. Toodles!” Y/N waved to her friends and let her mouth spread into her Cheshire smile, before her body vanished into thin air- the last thing Ningning and Chaehyun saw of her was that damn smile as it hovered in thin air and lingered ever so slightly longer than the rest of her body.

“Why aren’t you two heading to class?” The familiar voice of the headmaster made the two girls shudder. That man truly had a terrifying aura. “Hurry along, don’t want to keep your professors waiting.”

Deep down they wished they had Y/N’s teleportation ability.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

3. Riki’s mixed feelings.

Riki couldn’t figure out why Y/N seemed to hate him.

It wasn’t as if he’d done anything to her, right? In fact when they were children, he considered her as a friend. Sure they didn’t speak to one another much, but every Wonderlandian was considered his friend. After that night they had spent together back in Wonderland, he figured they at least had an understanding of each other.

He had even found her pranks and unserious personality to be endearing!

That was, until she had made him the target of her pranks. Constantly.

Y/N didn’t prank him much when they were younger. It was only when they started attending Ever After High that the pranks would amp up and become more of a frequent thing. They first began small- switching out his shampoo for hair dye, throwing ice cream at his face on a roller coaster, replacing his croquet ball with yarn, etc. All pretty juvenile stuff. He didn’t mind it and honestly found it funny.

But even Riki had to admit that getting pranked more than twice each week was overkill! It got to a point where he would leave classes and try to go under the radar, in hopes that he could avoid Y/N at all costs. Though, it didn’t help that they had a lot of the same friends. So when his best friend, Soul Hatter, would attempt to get her attention, Riki would groan internally as her cat eyes found their way to his form.

However, nothing gets past the Mad Hatter’s son so he asked Riki about it one day- while the two were hanging out at the Mad Hatter’s tea shop in the Village of Book End.

All sorts of typical Wonderland madness went on in the tea shop, such as teacups being used for the shop’s outdoor design, clocks that tell the wrong time, portals, and objects that float on occasion. It all made Riki miss Wonderland more and more each time he went.

A squeal could be heard from inside the shop as the tables began to float. An unassuming Bahiyyih Charming feared for her life as she felt her feet lift off from the ground. Though for Riki and Soul, they were used to it so they proceeded with their conversation. “I just feel like she hates me! There’s no way you can prank someone that often without feeling negative feelings towards them.” Riki stated with a downcast look on his face.

Soul took a sip of his favorite Earl Grey tea before responding. “More like there’s no way she hates you. I don’t think Y/N hates anyone, in fact, she’s a rather peaceful person.”

At that, Riki raised an eyebrow. “Really? The Cheshire Cat’s daughter is peaceful?”

“Well she does love discord, but she cares a lot for her friends, even if she has trouble showing it. I would know- I’m actually friends with her.” Soul said.

Suddenly, a top hat appeared next to their table.

“Dad? Is that you?”

A boisterous laugh was heard as the Mad Hatter popped out from inside of the hat.

Soul beamed at his dad and the two did their handshake, which they had made back when Soul was a toddler. “Whistle, cradle, up top, down, sideways-“ Riki just smiled at this and waited for them to finish.

“-and to the moon! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you two today?” The Mad Hatter asked, as he poured himself a cup of tea.

“We were just talking about how Riki thinks Y/N hates him.” Soul elbowed his best friend in a teasing manner.

The older man tapped his finger on his chin in thought. “Y/N? Well that girl could hardly hate anyone! I’d find that very hard to believe.” Soul gave Riki a knowing ‘I told you so’ look.

“So then why is she always pranking me?”

The Mad Hatter gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Perhaps it’s her love language.”

“Love language? She’s not really close with anyone besides the other Wonderland kids.. and Ningning… and Chaehyun.” Riki spoke, as he recounted Y/N’s friends. It wasn’t very hard.

Before his question could be answered, a ring from the bell at the counter alerted the Mad Hatter to get back to work. To which he did, but not before giving his son a new box of Earl Grey tea.

“Do you think she likes you?” Riki snapped his head to Soul because of what he said out of the blue. “Maybe Chaehyun would know something about it.”

It didn’t take a second thought for Riki to shake his head in disagreement. “No… no way. We’ve barely spoken, why would she like me?”

Soul shrugged. “I’m just throwing out ideas.”

“Well, your idea sucks. There’s no way Y/N could possibly like me.”

It just made no sense. After all, who would want to prank their crush? Wouldn’t it just make them avoid you more? The idea itself was baffling to Riki.

By the end of their hangout, Riki was sure of one thing. He would officially befriend Y/N.

That would surely get her off of his back.

But secretly he knew that he didn’t mind her pranks as much as he thought he did.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

4. Castleteria encounter and unwanted realizations.

It was lunchtime at Ever After High, and students of all different fairy tale backgrounds found themselves spending their down time together in the Castleteria. After Karina Queen, daughter of the Evil Queen, normalized people not wanting to follow their destinies, it became less taboo for Royals and Rebels to interact with one another. Headmaster Grimm was still hesitant on the idea, but that didn’t matter. All of the students agreed with one another that they would work on being less cliquey. Wonyoung White and Yujin Hood were seen laughing about something they were watching on the MirrorNet. But about two years ago, Snow White’s daughter and Little Red Riding Hood’s daughter would not have been together at all.

Chaehyun, Ningning, Y/N, and Sullyoon Ella were eating together that day. Y/N wasn’t typically friends with Cinderella’s daughter, but she found her incredibly attractive and alluring to be around. Sullyoon had just finished showing them her new shoe collection when Chaehyun pulled out a book and flipped to a page that was titled-

“True Hearts Day?” Ningning asked, with an eyebrow raised. “What’s that?”

Chaehyun giggled in excitement. “It’s an old holiday where people spellebrated following their hearts! Isn’t it so cool? I’m going to throw a True Hearts Day dance! As a future Cupid, I need to uphold traditions such as these.”

“And Headmaster Grimm just let you?” Sullyoon asked. “He’s not the biggest fan of people following their hearts.”

Chaehyun bit her lip. She wasn’t quite sure how her friends would react to the news but she wanted them to know first. “That’s the thing- he didn’t. I asked him last night and he shut down the idea.”

The three other girls waited for her to continue, as she took a pause to gain courage. “Which means I’m going to do it in secret!”

“And just how would you do that?” Y/N asked, as she flicked food from her spoon in Jay Huntsman’s face. The son of the Huntsman gasped in part annoyance and part shock, before proceeding to speak to the Charmings. Y/N snickered at his disgusted expression. Gotcha.

Chaehyun pulled up a map on her MirrorPhone. It displayed all of the Fairy Tale World, from Never After to the Mirror Realm. She zoomed in on the Enchanted Forest, and pointed at a random spot in the woods. “There’s a place here that I know would work perfectly! I just have to make all the invites, plan what food will be served, set up all the decorations- oh! and I have to make the music mix.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Sullyoon made a sheepish expression as she realized Chaehyun had taken up a lot on her plate, perhaps more than she realized. “I run a shoe store so I’m pretty good at managing.”

It was true, Sullyoon ran a shoe store in the Village of Book End. The Glass Slipper Shoe Store is what she had named the place, and it was a nice store with various kinds of shoes (it was really just heels, but there were many different kinds of heels).

Needing all the help she could get, Chaehyun nodded. “Do you mind handling the decorations? I’ll do everything else.”

Y/N listened silently as the girls began discussing their plans for the True Hearts Day Dance. She considered helping her friends, as she did care a great deal about them, but she wasn’t exactly good at being helpful. It was much easier for her to mess things up rather than fix them.

However she found herself bored by the topic, so she scanned the room to see who she could pull a prank on next.

Yuna Rose? Oh no, she’s fallen asleep again. What about Jake? He’s the best Charming to prank- never mind, he’s talking to Karina. Maybe…

Y/N glanced towards Riki, who she could see leaving the Castleteria. A grin widened across her face as she let her body disappear from her spot on the table- the grin once again being the last part of her to disappear.

Riki, who was frantically walking back to Professor Rumplestiltskin’s classroom in order to turn his paper in on time, tripped over what seemed to be thin air.

But it wasn’t, and that was clear when Y/N suddenly appeared next to him.

“Seriously? Again?” Riki asked, though his tone was slightly playful. He didn’t want to cause an argument- despite the fact that he was feeling slightly annoyed.

He wasn’t too fond of being pranked all the time. But Riki couldn’t blame the girl too much, she was just doing what she had always done. That much he understood about her, having grown up together.

“This is like, the 4th time this week.” Hopefully she could pick up the hints.

“Hey, I had to! The opportunity was just purrfect.” Y/N made a clawing motion as she said that. “You’re not butthurt, are you?”

Riki found himself chuckling at that. She was really funny, that was one of her features that interested him. Not that he was interested in her, but rather sometimes he found his eyes wandering in her direction he found her intriguing. Besides what she portrayed on the outside, what did anyone really know about Y/N Cheshire? Nothing, truly. The more he thought about it the more he wanted to know. “No, I could never. You’re really funny, you know that?”

Y/N’s face faltered for a second, but it was barely noticeable before she held her carefree expression once again.

“Don’t you have a paper to turn in? We wouldn’t want Rumplestiltskin to mark you down.”

“Oh yeah, I should probably go…”

“Catch you later, Wonderland.” Y/N teased, before disappearing once again.

Riki looked down on the essay in his hands before he snapped out of it and went back to turning it in.

Meanwhile, Y/N found herself back on the branch of her favorite tree in the forest. It was the place she would go to when she needed some time for herself.

And time for herself was needed after what had just happened.

Pranking Riki was something she figured wasn’t a big departure from her normal everyday life. She often crossed his path, so it made sense as to why she would choose him as a target. It wasn’t as though she was seeking him out on purpose, or waiting for him to pass by her locker so she could see his adorable expression. Or hear his voice, which she often heard in her dreams. In fact, it was so unlikely to happen that it didn’t. Y/N could barely even recall what his voice sounded like- that’s how uninterested she was in him. She didn’t even remember his name.

Yes, Y/N could care less about Riki. He was barely a thought that crossed her mind. A small, singular speck of an idea that didn’t hold any substance or weight in her world. She couldn’t waste her time with silly little things like love- after all, how could someone like her be worthy of being loved? All she knew how to do was ruin people’s days.

How could she even like him? Y/N barely even knew the boy. All she really knew was that his birthday was on December 9th, his roommate is Beomgyu, he loves riddles, and misses Wonderland, a lot.

Though, she couldn’t forget his tendency to be overly curious like his mother Alice. Or that he started a chess club with Rei due to his smart nature! Or even his eyes that seemed to glisten with a deep passion every time Y/N would look into them. His pink, plump lips that seemed too soft to be real…

Maybe she knew more than she let on.

But that didn’t mean she liked him! It was only because of her observant nature, and the fact that she can easily turn invisible. That makes it easy to people-watch.

Riki wasn’t even worth watching. So really, he was just obvious about everything. Because how else could Y/N know all those facts about him when she didn’t like him at all?

Y/N pulled out a ball of yarn to crochet and get her mind out of the gutter. Her shaking hands picked up the hook- wait, why were her hands shaking?

It was then when she finally felt the warm blush on her cheeks, which she just realized had been sitting on her face since the Castleteria.

Could she be sick?

No, it was something entirely different. Y/N realized it all now.

Each encounter with Riki left her redder than Yujin’s cloak, and her heart racing slightly faster than normal. It was so simple to see, but she had been in denial for so long.

Y/N had a crush on Riki.

Despite the realization, the idea made her feel weirded out. How could she let that happen?! Ever After High wasn’t the place to fall in love. With the majority of the students following their destinies, it wasn’t a shock to discover that Riki would as well. But Y/N could never amount to what he was worth- she was just a side character in his fairy tale. After their storybook ending, he would leave Wonderland and remember all his adventures as a dream. Plus, falling in love was too serious and committing for Y/N. She couldn’t be serious about anything.

But as she spotted her beloved in a faraway distance, she decided to get closer. Inconspicuously, of course.

There he stood as the spring sun shone down on him as if he weren’t real. Riki was only conversing with Beomgyu after turning in his essay, but he seemed to be the most ethereal being Y/N had laid her eyes upon. At one point he had thrown his head back in laughter, which sounded akin to a melody of angels singing in Y/N’s eyes. Everything about him was purrfect.

In a way, maybe falling in love didn’t sound so bad.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

5. Staring. Again.

Scratch that, it was a horrible thing to happen. How could she act around Riki the same if she had found out it was because she liked him all along?!

For Y/N, it was just easier to brush her feelings aside and continue doing what was simplest. Despite her love for chaos, she never meant to be truly evil or cause any problems. It’s all done in good fun and everyone knew that. Something as problematic as love was an issue that she never expected she would encounter while attending Ever After High.

But she couldn’t help how she felt and therefore had to come to terms with it all.

“You’re staring… Again~”

Y/N turned around to see Chaehyun giggling at her with a teasing smirk. Although she didn’t specify what exactly Y/N was staring at, the cat girl knew what she was talking about- even if she didn’t realize she was staring until that point. But Y/N would never admit that Chaehyun was right. “Staring? At what?”

The future cupid girl pointed at the object of Y/N’s attention for the past few minutes- as much as she would deny it she knew it was true. “Your future boyfriend!”

“Boyfriend?” Y/N stifled a laugh. “No way, I was just thinking about how to prank him next.”

Chaehyun sighed. She knew Y/N was stubborn but she wasn’t aware of just how stubborn the girl could be. Anyone with eyes could tell that Y/N looked at Riki with nothing but love in her eyes- so why did she deny it?

Chaehyun had no doubt it had anything to do with her feelings on her destiny.

Her eyes flitted over to something behind Y/N for a split second before she looked back at her.

“Oh! That reminds me, I have to go set up some things for True Hearts Day. I’ll see you in class, yeah?” Y/N lazily waved at her friend and watched her walk off. Just as Chaehyun had left, Y/N felt a hesitant tap on her shoulder.

Not liking the idea of someone being behind her, she quickly evaporated and appeared once again right behind the person who had tapped her. It was Riki.

“Riki Wonderland?” Y/N had teleported so fast that Riki had heard her voice behind her before even seeing her disappear. “What, cat got your tongue?”

The boy rolled his eyes at her corny joke. “Very funny. I just wanted to give you these.” Y/N looked down at his hands and saw a freshly baked batch of cookies. Had he… made them for her himself? For some reason, the idea of Riki spending some of his own time in the kitchen baking cookies especially for her made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. “My mom sent me some from back home and I wanted to give them to the Wonderland kids…”

Oh, yeah that made sense. For a moment, it almost felt as though Riki cared about her. Y/N wasn’t sure why she let herself get her hopes up so easily- what was happening? The sight of Riki made her feel so… so giddy. Perhaps realizing her feelings wasn’t such a smart move after all. She found herself acting out of character and thinking all kinds of thoughts.

“Hello? Y/N?” Riki waved a hand to her face, which snapped her out of her thoughts. She could only hope that her attraction wasn’t obvious from her facials.

Y/N slowly grabbed a cookie from the plate. It was soft and warm- it felt like home. “Cookies, for me?” Her gaze moved its way upwards until it found itself on Riki’s face. “Are they poisoned or something?”

“Is it so hard to believe someone wants to do something nice for you?” Riki said jokingly as he sighed. Grabbing a cookie from the container, he took Y/N’s hand in his own and opened it up to place another cookie in her hand. “Just take it, Y/N. After all, we’re friends aren’t we?”

Just for a second, Y/N could feel her carefree facade fade into his presence. Friends? Had he really considered them friends all along? But just as quickly as it went, her guise had come back. “Are we, Wonderland? I don’t know if you knew this, but we never even talked to each other before this year.”

“Well, you never really seemed to be fond of me. For whatever reason that is, I like to think of it as water under the bridge.” Riki smiled. “After all, I’ve considered us friends ever since we were young. Even though we didn’t talk back then, I still feel that we gained an understanding of one another after that night we spent together. Don’t you remember?”

So… he does remember?

Just as Y/N was about to ask the reason as to why they never spoke often after that night, the night that had felt special to her, she stopped herself. She didn’t want to come off as overly curious, even if that was what she truly was.

And besides, she preferred not to hear him say that she was the problem all along.

Satisfied with their newfound status of friendship, Y/N gave him a smile. A genuine smile. Her first real one in such a while. “You flatter me, Wonderland. Hopefully my nature doesn’t make you change your mind.”

The boy nodded and gave her a smirk. “I’ve grown accustomed to how you are so whatever it is you think would drive me away is something I’ve mentally prepared for.”

Wanting to mess with him for a bit, Y/N stepped slightly closer to Riki. “Oh, really? You think too much of yourself and too little of me.”

Riki bent down while maintaining eye contact with the girl. His height was truly impressive. “I don’t think you’re as threatening or scary as you think you are.”

As besotted with the boy Y/N was, she didn’t take it lightly when people underestimated her. It was something her mother did often and something that she was tired of feeling used to.

Y/N knew very well how capable she was of more than what she let on. She just hadn’t utilized it yet.

So the cat girl found herself formulating a plan in her head to prove it all wrong.

After all, Y/N Cheshire was a rebel. Stubbornness and pride were her best virtues.

She quickly teleported behind Riki and whispered a ‘boo’ to startle him- and startled he was.

“And I don’t think you know as much about me as you think you do.”

“You’re staring, Riki.”

The son of Alice left his train of thoughts as his best friend snuck up behind him. It was a week after he had officially befriended Y/N and the boy found her on his mind quite often. His curiosity of her shone brighter after she had challenged him. Of course he knew it was all in good fun, and they had been talking more casually ever since that day. During classes, during passing periods, and occasionally he would sit with her during lunch. They discussed many topics, just about anything that crossed their minds at the time. The two found it easy to fall into step with one another.

Y/N even found herself calming her catty personality when she was with Riki. It was surprising, because she hadn’t even done that with Ningning or Chaehyun. Why did she act in such a way with a boy?

As much as she wanted to deny it, Y/N knew Riki was the last person she wanted to think badly of her. Because of that, she had slowly stopped doing the small, petty pranks on him. She figured that the more she did them, the more annoyed he would get with her. Y/N decided that the prank she was planning for him would be the last one she would do. Ever.

It begged the question, why had they postponed this friendship for so long? They definitely had a connection with one another and found it very simple to get along. Conversation came easily. It made no sense as to why it had taken 17 years to get to the point where they stood currently.

Riki knew it was something on both ends. He could tell that not just one party was to blame. Because he did make efforts to speak to her on occasion, but at the same time she did as well. It was just that when a conversation was started, the other would have trouble continuing it. Perhaps it was some sort of subconscious fear.

Whatever it was, that was all in the past. It was the current day and Y/N Cheshire and Riki Wonderland had become friends.

“Riki?”

The boy brought himself out of his thoughts once more as his best friend waved a hand in front of his face. “You zoned out again. Why do you keep staring at Y/N?“

That was the question Riki kept asking himself. “It’s not on purpose. At least, I don’t think. Maybe she just happens to be there.”

“You sound unsure.” Soul said in a thoughtful manner. The cogs in his head began to turn. “Maybe… Oh my gosh- do you like Y/N?”

The thought was baffling. “Like? Of course not! I just find her… interesting.”

“Right, that’s why you’re friends with her now. Because you find her interesting.” Soul teased. That was one thing that Riki disliked about his best friend, that he was so determined in his ideals that he had to see them through each time. “How did you even come to like her? She’s not exactly your type.”

“Well that’s just it I’m not sure how-“ Riki began, but then stopped once he realized what he was unconsciously admitting.

Soul smirked. “Go on.”

Riki let out a sigh and finally let his guard down. “I don’t really know how it started. My interest in her, that is. I’m not too sure if I would classify it as a crush or anything of that sort but I guess one day my eyes just started to drift in her direction?”

He sort of lied. Riki knew that it was because of that night when they were 11, ever since he noticed something different about her. When he listened to her talk, he could tell that she had some sort of sadness about her that she could never quite talk about.

It made him curious.

A wistful breath came out of Souls mouth. “How romantic. I love unlikely romances, they’re very interesting. I suppose it was about time you found someone you were interested in.” He patted a hand on his friends back in congratulations. “Are you going to do something about it?”

“No, definitely not. At least- not until I figure out if what I’m feeling is really romantic or just a friendly interest.”

Just as Soul was about to respond, someone tapped on Riki’s shoulder. “Hey!” They both turned around to be faced with Chaehyun.

“Okay so keep it hush, especially to Headmaster Grimm, but I’m setting up a dance to spellebrate True Hearts Day. Everyone’s invited!” Chaehyun handed them both envelopes. The envelopes were lathered in pink and had their names on it. “True Hearts Day was a holiday where people spellebrated following their true hearts desire, and Headmaster Grimm has banned us from even knowing about it.”

“That tracks. Ever since Karina did what she did last year, he’s been trying to silence us now more than ever.” Riki stated.

“Exactly. Which is why this dance is a secret from him and will be held in a location he doesn’t know about.” Chaehyun smiled. “Will you be there?”

“Of course!” Soul nudged Riki. “We’ll both go.”

A cheer emitted from Chaehyun’s throat before she went to pass out more invitations.

For Riki, he knew what he had to do before the dance. He would have to discover how he felt about Y/N.

Because if he had a crush, then he would ask her to go with him.

On the other side of the lockers, Y/N stared at the concoction in her hands. It was nothing less than ugly. But it was beautiful work, and ideas bloomed through her mind as she thought about what to do with it.

“And you’re doing this… to prove a point?” Ningning asked, as she recounted what Y/N had told her moments prior. “Isn’t that a bit… far?”

“It’s just a little prank! I’ve done far worse to him before.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Besides, do I need a reason to prank someone? I’m the d-“

“-daughter of the Cheshire Cat, I know. But do you need to be so proud of it?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Ningning sighed. “All I’m saying is… you could at least know when to draw the line.”

Y/N gave it a bit of a thought. Draw the line? It wasn’t that simple for her. Y/N was just doing what she had always done. No one had ever told her when to stop, and no one had ever told her how to behave otherwise. How could she ever know otherwise? And at the end of the day, it was all just for a good laugh!

Of course, she knew Ningning had a point. She wasn’t an idiot- she could tell that people weren’t too fond of her. Though they never stated it outright, Y/N knew that her fun had stained people’s impressions of her.

But it was all she was good for.

And besides, wouldn’t Riki laugh at a prank such as this? He always did get a chuckle out of her mischief. The idea of making him laugh with that infectious laugh of his burned through Y/N’s mind.

“I’ll draw the line when I want to draw the line.”

With that, Y/N disappeared- leaving Ningning to stare at the spot where she once stood and sigh.

This is going to take a lot of work… I’m going to need to-

“Hey Ning!”

Ningning looked behind her to see Chaehyun approaching with an armful of envelopes. “Have you seen Y/N? I need to give her one of the invitations as well but I haven’t seen her around all day.”

“You just missed her, but I can hold onto the envelope and give it to her when we’re together.” Ningning smiled at her friend who she had just noticed had a troubled expression on her face.

“Cool! While we’re together, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Me too. Can we talk somewhere private?”

“You read my mind.”

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

6. He was a star, and she was anything but.

Y/N wished her mother didn’t call as often as she did.

The two were having one of their weekly calls through the MirrorPhone, and Y/N wasn’t sure if she could take one more second of her mother’s incessant nagging. Usually she could handle it, but for some reason she seemed to be more overbearing than usual.

And most of the time, she only called to see what pranks she was pulling and not to actually talk to her.

“You’re only pulling baby pranks, darling.” The Cheshire Cat spoke while filing her nails. “You should be able to do better. After all, this is all you’re good for anyways.”

This is all you’re good for.

It didn’t help her self worth when her own mother pressured her in that way.

Y/N sighed and bit her tongue. She couldn’t speak up to her mother, not when she was one of the only people she could trust. “But I can’t really do much when I’m at school, mother.”

The woman paused her nail filing to give her daughter a slight glare. “Then that means you’re not good enough.”

Y/N felt her words get choked up in her throat. “I’m trying my best!” Attempting to hold back tears, Y/N disliked how her mother spoke to her oftentimes. She figured she could handle it since it was her mother, but at some point it just became too much.

“Try harder sweetie.” The Cheshire Cat gave her a sickly sweet smile. “Be honest, is a boy distracting you?”

Yes.

“Of course not, mother.” Y/N stated.

Though, one thing she had forgotten about was her tendency to lick her lips a bit more than usual when she lied. And one thing her mother did right was notice the small things about her.

The Cheshire Cat gasped. “There is a boy!” She pondered on this idea for a second, examining her daughter through the MirrorPhone. She had made it a point to Y/N that boys would only get in the way and that romance shouldn’t be on her mind throughout high school, and she would stand by that point no matter what. But perhaps what her daughter needed was a push in the wrong direction. “Tell me, who is he? And how did it happen?”

Y/N knew she couldn’t lie anymore to her mother, so she decided to come clean. Despite their strained relationship, wouldn’t it feel nice to be able to discuss her feelings with someone?

Her mother was harsh and cruel, but she wasn’t a monster. Surely she would be able to help.

The only problem was that she didn’t know where to begin. After all, she didn’t even know where her feelings began. Was it that day by the front of the school where she realized she liked him? Or was there a time before then that she had caught feelings without even knowing? As someone who didn’t receive much love growing up and had never liked anyone else, it was hard to tell.

She thought back to all the times she had interacted with Riki. Perhaps there was a common denominator between each moment, one that could pinpoint a beginning.

It was then that she realized that there was a certain moment that stood in the back of her mind whenever Riki was around (or when she thought about him).

It was after a fight Y/N had with her mother when she was 11. At one point, she became too stressed with all the expectations the Cheshire Cat had on her, and certain feelings began to bubble up within her. It came to a stop when her and her mother had blown up on each other and things got too tense for Y/N to stay at home. Without her dad present, it was tough having to live with someone who both expected so much of you but also didn’t believe you were worth anything.

Due to her conflicting feelings, she ended up running out of the house in an attempt to find somewhere to calm down. Though in Wonderland, there weren’t many options. No matter where you went there was bound to be chaos.

So Y/N ran. She found herself running and running until she could find somewhere to sit peacefully and stay unbothered. It was just too much for her 11 year old brain to stay in such a place that fostered a toxic mindset.

And eventually, she found a spot. It was nearby the portal between Wonderland and Ever After, so perhaps part of that world was seeping into Wonderland. Whatever it was, she had found a hilltop so hidden from the rest of Wonderland that there was practically no noise. It was so high above the world that one wrong step and Y/N would be falling to her death. From where Y/N was curled up within the trees, she could see the stars.

Y/N loved stargazing. It was something that she couldn’t do often but loved doing while she could. With all the pressures from her mom and herself, something she could count on to be a constant was looking at the stars. The way the shimmer of the stars starkly contrasted the gloom of the night sky- she felt that she could easily get lost in its beauty. Not only were they beautiful, but there was something about the way the stars twinkled that made her want to shine just as brightly. Each star perfectly had its own place amongst the sky… could she be like that too? Was there somewhere she could have her own place in? In another world, Y/N was a star. She wanted to be able to contribute to a bigger picture, and not just be a side character in another’s story. Perhaps when she died, she could be reincarnated as a star. Was that even possible?

Until then she would stay down on the ground, waiting to take her place amongst the stars.

Y/N was so entranced by her own thoughts that she didn’t notice a figure slowly come into her view.

“Is there any more room up here?” The voice said.

Out of instinct, Y/N gasped and quickly disappeared. It was a defense mechanism that had become a habit when she learned to control her powers.

But as her vision started to focus once more and she reappeared, Y/N realized who it was.

Riki Wonderland.

Confused, she raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. This is my spot.” He said in such confidence. “I found it years ago and I’ve been coming here to stargaze ever since.”

Riki stargazed? Y/N couldn’t see that as something befitting of his character.

“I just wanted to get out of the house, I guess.” Y/N shrugged. “So, you stargaze?”

“It’s just something I realized I enjoyed after the first time I did it.” Riki stated, a small smile placed upon his face that Y/N had never seen before.

Not wanting to be a nuisance, Y/N sat up. “Well if you’re here now, I might as well just leave. Have fun with your stars, Wonderland.”

Before Y/N could disappear, Riki grabbed her arm. “Wait,” the girl looked into his eyes as she decided to hear out what he had to say. “you should stay. It’s not like I own this place anyways.”

It wasn’t that she disliked Riki, and in all honesty she found him rather cute. But wouldn’t it be awkward if it was just the two of them? Y/N didn’t have an easy time socializing with people either way, but with Riki it would be even harder. It was awkward knowing that they were so close to being friends but it had never happened. But with the pleading look in his eyes, how could she say no?

There was something about him that made her soft.

Y/N sighed and slowly agreed. If Riki wanted her there, perhaps she should stay. So the two laid on opposite sides of the branch together, and silently looked up at a world they could only dream of being a part of.

After some time, Riki opened his mouth. “I know I already asked this earlier, but why did you come here? You know, to stargaze.” As if he wasn’t satisfied with her answer.

He was right in thinking that her answer wasn’t what she truly wanted to say, but it just felt awkward to give an exact reason. Her relationship with her mom was something she could barely tell her only 3 friends about, let alone someone she barely considered an acquaintance.

But Y/N knew Riki was a reliable guy; she had heard it often from Soul, Rei, and Giselle. And maybe for once she would let herself put faith into another person.

“I’ll only tell you if you tell me why you like stargazing.”

Riki blew out a breath in thought. “Hm… I don’t know if I can give an exact reason for that. I was just bored one day and ended up coming across this place. That’s what made me stargaze, but something about it just felt so comforting to me that I wanted to do it more often.” He answered, a soft smile gracing his lips. “But that’s not exactly a good reason.”

“I think it suits you.” Y/N whispered out. “I’m sure you have your own stresses with being the son of Alice in Wonderland. It would make sense that having a hobby like this to come back to is something you enjoy.”

He pondered on it for a moment. Maybe she was right. He then chuckled at this side of her he had never seen before. “You’re a lot more poetic than you let on. Anyways I answered your question, can you answer mine?”

Y/N considered answering it, she truly did, but as much as she wanted to open up there was the side of her that wanted to keep everything inside. Her mother had always told her that vocalizing your feelings does nothing good and only makes people pity you.

One thing Y/N despised was being pitied. It only reminded her of how her mother referred to her as a ‘pitiful girl’ and how she would amount to nothing.

So she slowly shook her head. “No, I don’t think I can.”

Riki felt himself beginning to sit up to look at the girl. There was something off about her. The way she spoke to him and the way that she carried herself… she wasn’t acting as she always had. Normal Y/N would be more playful and even mischievous. But now, there was a certain sadness in her entire being that seemed to be throwing her off her rhythm. And it only made Riki more and more curious about her.

“Okay, I get it. You don’t have to tell me.” Riki smiled, before continuing. “I just hope it doesn’t take away your chaotic spirit. You know, I kind of like that about you.”

A sigh left Y/N’s lips at his words. “You don’t mean that, Wonderland.”

“I mean every word, Cheshire.”

Y/N could only roll her eyes before slowly evaporating into the night, using her invisibility and teleportation to finally go back home.

Left lingering in the air was her Cheshire’s smile, which disappeared last and left Riki staring at the wisps of where she had sat only moments prior.

Maybe it made sense that Riki enjoyed stargazing. In a way, there was something about him that was made of the stars. No matter what he did, he always seemed to shine brighter than all the others. There was something about Riki that felt that he belonged up in the sky, giving life to the night and adding a certain glimmer to the auras.

Riki had his own place amongst the sky, and she wished she could be like that too. But after speaking to him, maybe there was nowhere she could have her own place in. Y/N could only wait for the day that she could contribute to a bigger picture, and take a larger part in his story. After all, she had always wanted her own place within the stars.

But for now, all she could do was hope she would become more than just the Cheshire Cat’s daughter.

Y/N carefully recounted her memories from that night, and how it had stuck with her and unknowingly fostered her feelings for Riki. As she told the story, she didn’t seem to notice the Cheshire Cat don a mischievous smile.

If her daughter wasn’t going to improve on her own, then she would have to make her improve.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

7. “You…r opinion?”

Liz had a habit of expecting the worst out of most situations. Perhaps it came from the fact that her destiny involved bears… big scary bears… but it was understandable. Bears weren’t known for being the most gentle creatures, after all.

So when she noticed a suspicious vial of liquid in Y/N’s bag during their Advanced Ballet class, Liz’s mind raced with negative thoughts. What was she up to? Did it have anything to do with pranking? Or maybe it was for a class assignment?

Liz truly didn’t mean to think the worst of Y/N, but she couldn’t exactly help it. Being kind wasn’t exactly in her forte and Liz was too much of a paranoid person to ignore seeing that vial.

But she also didn’t want to profile the girl for doing something that she wasn’t going to do in the first place. Liz knew that doing so wasn’t just right. So she looked around the room to see if anyone had seen her internal battle. Deciding that it had gone unnoticed, Goldilocks’ daughter let out a shaky breath and continued to practice her jetés.

“Are you still going to-” Ningning said, but paused when she realized she was being a bit too loud- especially considering the subject of the conversation was in that very room. Why was he there anyways? He didn’t even take Advanced Ballet… “Are you still going to prank Riki?” She continued in a hushed whisper.

Y/N giggled at Ningning’s apparent stress. Although she disliked making her friends upset, it was still sort of funny that she had that effect on them. “Well, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

Ningning frowned. “Well first of all, it’s rude.”

“Hey, if you’re not funny just say that!”

“Be serious…” Y/N made a hand movement indicating that she was shutting her mouth. Ningning then continued with her list. “It causes unnecessary problems. And besides, Riki isn’t going to like y-”

“What about Riki?”

Y/N and Ningning’s heads swiftly turned to face the voice- it was Beomgyu and Riki. Y/N could see Ningning get a little shy for reasons she decided to ignore. Beomgyu? Really? You can do better Ning…

“Don’t think you’re all that, Wonderland.” Y/N grinned. “We were talking about Ricky Jester.”

Beomgyu groaned. “Ugh, I hate that guy. He’s so annoying, I mean, we don’t care th-” His rant was cut short when Riki pressed a hand against Beomgyu’s mouth. “Thanks man, I forgot he’s in this class.”

Ningning chuckled. “Don’t be such a hater, Beomgyu.”

Ningning and Beomgyu proceeded to start their own conversation, with Beomgyu whispering to her all the things he found wrong with Ricky. Y/N felt happy for her friend in that moment, and let a small smile show on her face. It wasn’t intentional, and in fact she hadn’t even noticed it was there. But someone else noticed.

Riki couldn’t deny that he felt a certain emotion bubble in his stomach when he saw the genuine happiness on Y/N’s face. Y/N, the same girl who was often cold and didn’t show any of her softer emotions. Something about that made her happiness reflect onto him.

It was odd. He enjoyed seeing her in such a state, but he figured he felt more than he should have in that circumstance. Why did he feel like that?

No, Riki wasn’t dumb and he wasn’t the type to lie about his feelings. He could tell exactly what it was.

But was he pleased with the outcome? Riki wasn’t sure. Though he told himself that he would come to terms with whatever decision he made about his feelings on Y/N, it was easier said than done. After all, he knew that being romantically involved with the girl would come with work. A lot of work. He was also worried that everything was too rushed, and that he wasn’t thinking straight. Maybe his thought process was clouded with what he thought he wanted to happen.

Once again, the H/C female was left to her own thoughts- which obviously drifted to the boy next to her. She couldn't help it. He made her rather stable heart go all crazy when he was around.

Thoughts of confessing were brought up, but then immediately shut down because of how ridiculous it sounded. The idea of Riki having mutual feelings towards her seemed so out of the ballpark. After all, it was her. She was someone who had trouble facing her own feelings, and put up a front to hide all her troubles and insecurities. Riki always seemed put together. How could a guy such as himself possibly think about dating her?

At the same time of Y/N having doubts in her head, Riki had finally come to a conclusion. He pondered on it for a while, and he knew it was too obvious to ignore.

Riki liked Y/N.

It made him wonder, how long had he felt that way? He couldn’t help but think of the possibility of his crush starting even back then, on the day that he and Y/N shared under the stars.

He wondered if being hyper aware of Y/N and all that she does was because he liked her, or because he was a naturally curious person. He also wondered if him noticing the way her hair fell behind her ears was also because he liked her.

“Hey Riki, I have a question.” Y/N started, her cat-like eyes closing to a slant. “Why are you in our class today? I didn’t think someone like you would take Advanced Ballet. Don’t you dance hip hop?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Riki considered the question. Why was he there? The simple answer was because Beomgyu, who actually did take the class, invited him to join since Riki had a free period.

But he thought back to the moment that Beomgyu asked, and what he said that got him to go.

“You know a lot of people in that class, actually.” Beomgyu said before listing off the people he could recall. “Liz, Ricky, Yuna, Wonyoung, Jake, Ningning, Y/N-”

Of course, Riki remembered. All the other names seemed to fade as he heard that last one.

“It was because of you-” Riki blurted out, without even thinking. He had to save himself before Y/N could catch onto his mistake. “-your opinion. I.. wanted to get your opinion on my outfit today since you’re very straightforward.”

What?! Why did I say that?

Slightly disappointed at his answer, Y/N looked at the boy up and down. Her opinion? He looked cute. As always.

“It’s hideous.”

A smirk made its way to Y/N’s face even though she didn’t agree with what she said. Though she usually acted calmer around Riki, teasing him every now and then didn’t do any harm.

“Hideous?! Hey, it’s really not that bad.” Riki chuckled. “It’s literally just an oversized jacket and baggy jeans!”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Um, don’t forget that you asked for my opinion, Wonderland.”

“And your opinion is wrong.” Riki said. “Also why do you call me Wonderland all the time?”

Beomgyu looked over at Y/N and Riki. He noticed the way they conversed, and how Y/N’s expression seemed softer than normal despite her mischievous jabs. He also picked up on Riki’s facials, and how his eyes seemed to sparkle in a certain way that Beomgyu had never seen before. It was interesting to see how his aura changed in the slightest when he was with Y/N.

Without realizing, Beomgyu was staring at Y/N while thinking about how glad he was that Riki found someone he liked.

He glanced over at Ningning to see if she had seen it as well, but stopped his trailing eyes when he noticed Riki giving him a weird face. Did he do something wrong?

Under the impression that Beomgyu was staring at Y/N because he was interested, Riki felt a wave of jealousy wash over his system. He never considered himself the possessive type, however, he had just realized his feelings for Y/N. It made sense that his brain was scattered and his emotions left him rather vulnerable.

For once in his life, Riki felt himself getting jealous of one of his friends. It wasn’t an instance that occurred often, as Riki knew he was a rather fortunate guy and that he had a lot to be grateful for, but he couldn’t help it this time.

Falling for Y/N Cheshire, Riki knew, came with a lot of work. He knew she had a lot of mental troubles she would need to work through, and Riki himself needed to navigate through these unfamiliar emotions.

It was work, but Riki was willing to put in the work for Y/N.

Amongst all the newfound realizations and bubbling emotions, one girl snuck away from her spot next to the group. She had been eavesdropping on their conversation for longer than intended, but what really stuck with her was what Ningning and Y/N discussed in the beginning.

Y/N… pranking Riki again?

Maybe it wasn’t anything to worry about. After all, she did prank Riki rather often. It was well known amongst the student body.

But she couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that came over her body when she thought about what Y/N could possibly do, and the guilt that she would feel if she didn’t at least try to stop it.

Though she held a certain degree of respect for Y/N, one thing the girl stood heavily for was justice. As soon as she was far away from the group she pulled out her phone and went into Riki’s contact.

“Hey Riki, it’s me. Liz.”

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

8. You make everyone miserable.

During the day time, it was common for Ever After High students to meet up at Hocus Latte. It was a common hang out spot between friends, though oftentimes if a girl asked a guy or vice versa people would assume it was for a date.

That was why Riki felt conflicted when he read Liz’s text.

‘I need to talk to you. Meet me at Hocus Latte at 3 p.m for a quick chat’ He reread to confirm the meeting time.

On one hand it made sense, because Yuna Rose worked there and the two were rather close. But did she not think about the message she might have accidentally sent? Riki tried not to think about it too deeply because he doubted Liz had a crush on him.

As he sat inside Hocus Latte waiting for Liz to arrive, his phone vibrated indicating he had received another text.

‘Actually I might be running late because there were some technical troubles for my MirrorCast show, but I sent over one of my friends to keep you company. Sorry about that!’

A wave of nervousness washed over his body as he read over her text. Who did she send? Riki didn’t usually find it hard to get along with others, but not knowing who he was going to have to hang out with gave him an unsettling feeling. His mind racked through the roster of Liz’s friends, and who she was most likely to send.

It’s definitely not Yuna because she’s working right now, maybe Jake? But he works for her MirrorCast show and if they were having technical troubles then she probably would have him help. What about Wonyoung- actually no, he could only hope it wasn’t her. The daughter of Snow White was someone he found rather intimidating, despite how nice she genuinely was.

As Riki pondered over the possibilities, he noticed a familiar form come into his view.

“You look stupid sitting here alone.”

Riki looked up and noticed Y/N’s signature Cheshire grin, something he hadn’t seen since they had become friends but he surely missed. He enjoyed the calm(ish) side of her that she had been presenting to him as of late, but he couldn’t help but miss the side of her that interested him in the first place. Though whatever side Y/N wanted to show him was one he was willing to accept.

He felt his heart pick up its pace as Y/N sat in the empty chair. His entire mind had been consumed by her, thinking about her almost every waking hour ever since he realized his crush on her. But despite that, he hadn’t actually expected to see her. They were good friends but the silly, fluttery feelings he felt for her still made being around her both exciting and difficult.

“Did Liz send you here?” Riki asked with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t know you guys were friends.”

Y/N giggled. “Oh yeah, her and I are like this!” She crossed her fingers to indicate that they were close. “She loves me so much she made a MirrorCast episode about me!”

Riki remembered watching that episode, perhaps more so than he should’ve. Looking back on it, the signs that he had feelings for her were obvious. He just didn’t notice.

What happened is in the past. Now that I know I like her, I’m going to pursue her.

“It makes sense, I mean, you are a likable person.” Riki said, before taking a sip of her drink. Before Y/N could vocalize her confusion, he spoke once more. “Do you want a drink? I can order you one.”

“Oh, I’m good.” Not dropping her smirk, Y/N winked at Riki. “I already ordered one anyways.”

As Riki was about to ask what she meant, she had already turned herself intangible and disappeared. Moments passed with Riki just looking around and waiting for Y/N to come back, and eventually she did.

With a drink.

“How did you get that?”

“I ordered it, duh.” Y/N wore an expression that read ‘obviously’.

If anyone bothered to look in the back of the cafe, they would see Yuna in the kitchen covered in water and the drink she just finished making gone from her hands.

For unrelated reasons, of course.

Riki could tell that she hadn’t just ordered the drink, but he wasn’t about to point that out. He knew that Y/N could be annoying at times, but he knew she would never cross the line. He trusted her not to do that because he knew deep down, despite everything, she was a good person.

“Did you finish your Chemythstry paper?” Riki asked, changing the subject. “I heard from Jay that Rumplestiltskin is grading it harder than our past papers because he wants us to fail. That way if we ask for extra credit, he can punish us and make us spin straw into gold for him. Isn’t that sick in the head?”

Y/N stifled a laugh as she thought about their professor. “Really? That’s kind of funny, actually.”

Rolling his eyes in a teasing manner, Riki smiled. “Right, I forgot that’s pretty on brand for you. Just wait until he asks you to do it, maybe it won’t be funny then.”

“Please, Rumplestiltskin loves me.” Y/N said, emphasizing the ‘love’. “And even if he tried to fail me I would just turn it into a passing grade without him seeing.”

“I remember when you fell asleep in his class and he just let you sleep. If that were any one of us, he would’ve yelled in our faces.” Riki reminisced.

Y/N stuck her tongue out at him. “It must suck not being the favorite.”

“I’ll have you know Pied Piper loves me.”

“That’s not a flex… Everytime he plays the trumpet, rats fall from the sky. And for some reason he keeps doing it??”

“At least my professor is taller than 4 feet.”

“At least mine doesn’t like classic rock.”

“Isn’t your mom friends with Pied Piper?”

“So? That doesn’t mean I have to like him…”

The two went back and forth for a while, though it was all in good fun. It felt nice to be able to banter and tease each other and know that neither of them meant any harm by it.

Riki enjoyed speaking to Y/N, because he thought she was fun. Y/N enjoyed speaking to Riki, because she felt that she could be herself around him.

Though, all good things must come to an end. Y/N felt one of her senses pick up suddenly, and she realized her time with Riki was one of those good things.

She had to leave before Liz noticed she was there.

“It’s been fun, Wonderland, but I have to dip.” Y/N said. “Duty calls, you know?”

Before he could utter out a ‘bye’, Y/N had already disappeared and was out of his sight.

Moments after, Liz finally arrived.

“Hi Riki! Sorry for running late, there was this whole thing with the routers and Jake kept accidentally breaking things and-”

Riki waved it off before she could continue to ramble. “It’s alright! Thank you for sending someone to keep me company, it was fun.”

Liz smiled knowing that she did something helpful. “I’m glad, Chae was excited even though I asked her last minute. Weird, right? I didn’t realize you guys were friends.”

As Liz continued on about how Chaehyun was willing to drop what she was doing to accompany Riki, he paused. Did she say Chaehyun?

Didn’t she send Y/N?

“Wait, Chaehyun?” Riki asked, hoping he hadn’t heard the name incorrectly.

Confused, Liz stopped what she was saying to clarify. “Yes? She was the one I asked. Did she not tell you that?”

The pieces finally clicked in Riki’s head, and he felt a bit dumb for not noticing it sooner. Suspicious behavior was all a part of Y/N’s character but she hadn’t been acting in such a way as of late. For her to come and suddenly revert back to that was something that Riki should’ve thought about. That paired with her leaving so suddenly…

But one thing didn’t make sense, why did Y/N come instead of Chaehyun in the first place?

Before Liz could comment on Riki’s prolonged silence, he awkwardly laughed. “Sorry, yeah. Chaehyun mentioned it, I just thought you said Chaewon and I wanted to clarify.”

Whatever the reason was for Y/N to lie, he figured outing her to Liz wouldn’t be helpful.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Oh right!” Liz jumped up, almost having forgotten why she wanted to meet with Riki in the first place. “I overheard something during Advanced Ballet, and I just wanted to tell you about it because I think you deserve to know.”

Advanced Ballet? Oh right, Liz was in Y/N and Beomgyu’s class. He recalled seeing her for a brief moment that day when he crashed their lesson.

The way she was putting everything made Riki slightly nervous, but he could only hope it wasn’t anything too bad. “Okay, what is it?”

“I saw a weird vial of liquid in Y/N’s bag, and I overheard her talking to Ningning about wanting to prank you. I know she pranks you often, but I just didn’t feel right seeing all that and not doing anything about it.”

Riki let out a laugh at what she said. “Thank you for being concerned, but she always does this and I’m okay with that. I know she would never cross the line.”

“That’s good! I just wanted to let you know so you could prepare if anything.” Liz smiled, glad he had taken it so well. She knew that Riki and Y/N were decent friends so she didn’t feel particularly worried about the fact that he was alright with her. “I also know Beomgyu was mentioning to Ningning that you were sick of getting pranked, so I wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything-” She paused what she was saying when a memory popped into her head. “Wait, I just remembered something. Did you know Beomgyu has a crush on Y/N?”

Riki felt his heart stop when Liz said those words.

Beomgyu had a crush on Y/N? His Y/N? How could he!

Of course Riki never vocalized his crush on her, but he had hoped that Beomgyu would be able to notice.

“O-Oh, does he really?” Riki nervously laughed, trying not to let his disappointment show. It would be embarrassing if Liz found out Riki felt the same. “He never told me that…”

“He never said it explicitly, but when he and Ningning were talking I saw him look over at Y/N a lot. He was probably asking Ningning for help on how to ask her out, since she’s one of Y/N’s best friends.” Liz chuckled. “Isn’t it so cute! I think they fit each other well. Don’t you? Maybe he’ll ask her to the True Hearts Day dance!”

No, they don’t fit each other at all. Beomgyu was annoying and stupid, and Y/N was funny and smart. She was far too beautiful on the inside to be with someone who often stole food from the Castleteria.

Riki didn’t care that Y/N also stole food. To him, it was only alright when she did it. Everything in his eyes was alright when it was done by Y/N.

But regardless, Riki didn’t want Y/N to be stunted by being with Beomgyu. He loved his friend, but he knew that he had a lot of room to mature before he gave his heart to another.

At the end of the day, Riki knew one thing and that was that he was the only one fit for Y/N.

Because he liked her. No, maybe even loved.

Though, he couldn’t admit that. Not now. “Yeah, they would look great.” He said through gritted teeth.

After wrapping up their conversation Liz and Riki decided to walk back to Ever After High together. It was getting late, and Riki was worried about Liz getting back safely.

And as much as he tried to be present in whatever Liz was saying about how to make the best porridge, he just couldn’t pay attention. All he could think about was Beomgyu and Y/N being together. The thought made him sick to his stomach. The idea of them holding hands… whispering sweet nothings into each others’ ears… kissing- It was all too much. He couldn’t stand thinking about it, yet he was addicted to the thought. He kept thinking up different scenarios that would occur if the two ever started dating.

While distracted, Riki felt a gust of wind blow behind him. He tried not to think too much about it but it felt a little unsettling.

He brushed it off, and tried to pay attention to what Liz was rambling about.

“-and then you have to drizzle it with honey! But the honey you get has to be just right, it can’t be too sweet but it also can’t be too flavorless. So that’s something you have to think about.” Liz stopped for a moment when she noticed that Riki wasn’t exactly paying attention. “Hey, are you okay?”

Riki was about to respond, however he was interrupted when he heard a familiar giggle fill the air. Suddenly, he felt a hole open up underneath him until he eventually fell through, falling for about 10 feet before he landed on hard rock.

“Riki, are you okay?!” Liz shouted from above. She looked around where she found a rope on the ground next to a tree, so she picked it up and threw it down to Riki to help him up. “What the hell happened??”

Still shaken up, Riki brushed the dirt off his clothes as he climbed up the rope. “I… I have no idea. One moment I was standing and all of a sudden I was on the ground.”

Once he got back onto the surface, the adrenaline eventually went away and he could finally feel the pain shoot up his ankle.

A giggle was heard from a distance, the same giggle that Riki had heard moments prior to falling. It was a little too familiar for his liking, and he hoped that it wasn’t who he thought it was.

“What happened to you, Wonderland?”

Riki and Liz looked to the side and Riki felt his heart drop for the second time that day.

There Y/N stood, looking cute and innocent as ever, as if she wasn’t causing a storm to brew within Riki’s heart.

Was she the one who made him fall?

“Why are you asking when you’re the one who did this?” Riki muttered, hurt shown on his face.

The previously lighthearted expression on Y/N’s face slowly shifted into a confused one. What was he talking about? “Well, I’m flattered you think I’m capable of something like this but I don’t even know what happened to you.”

“Don’t lie, don’t you think it’s weird that I fell into a hole and a few seconds later you show up?” Riki said. “I thought you were better than this, I mean, I could’ve seriously injured myself!”

It was then that Y/N realized Riki wasn’t in the best mood, and that worried her. She didn’t enjoy him being angry at her, not one bit. “Riki, it wasn’t me. Truly.”

“So you’re saying Liz was lying about how you’ve been planning on pranking me?”

Riki didn’t mean to bring Liz into it, but he couldn’t help it.

“I can’t believe you… I thought we’ve been getting closer. Then you go and do this?”

“I’m being honest, it wasn’t me!” Y/N voice raised to a yell. She felt hurt that he was blindly accusing her, though she couldn’t blame him. After all this time, she knew people only expected the worst of her. And with how she’s treated Riki in the past, it was only right that his mind would think of her to do such a thing.

But she thought he would know she would never intentionally hurt him. That’s why she only pulled small pranks. “I care about you a lot, Riki. Even though I considered pranking you in the past, I stopped myself from doing it because I want to better myself for you.”

Riki felt his heart swell at what she said, but he still couldn’t get the information he learned about Y/N and Beomgyu out of his head.

“Are you ever going to take anything seriously? I mean, aren’t you tired of acting like this?”

“Acting like what…?”

All the jealousy he felt and the anger he felt towards himself… seeing her made all the negative feelings that Riki had been feeling bubble up, and before he knew it his mouth was moving faster than his brain.

“Aren’t you tired of making people feel miserable all the time!?” He yelled, with shut eyes.

But as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt regret all around. He didn’t mean to say anything really mean, he was just upset and he had accidentally taken it out on her.

“Um, don’t you think that was a little too far?” Liz whispered, surprised that Riki of all people said that. “I think you should apologize, I mean, she really might not have done it.”

Wasn’t Liz the one suspicious of Y/N in the first place?

Before he could take back his words he looked back up at his crush, only to see hurt and shock written on her face. And Riki knew he messed up.

“I make people feel miserable…? Alright, I get it.”

The smile Y/N put on was different from all the smiles she had given him in the past. It was filled with mixed emotions- sadness, hurt, and disgust. But at who? Disgusted at him? Or maybe even herself?

That was the last he had seen of Y/N in a few days.

Riki looked up at the sky and for some reason, the stars seemed to be dimmer than usual.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

9. Locker chats.

It was two days before the big True Heart’s Day dance that Chaehyun had been planning, and Riki couldn’t feel more stressed.

“You said that to her??”

Soul couldn’t hold back his shock as Riki recounted his previous argument with Y/N.

It had been some time since then, and Riki knew the girl was evading him. But why? He knew he had hurt her, but didn’t he deserve an apology too? After all, she did cause him to hurt his ankle.

“She could’ve killed me, Soul.” Riki frowned. “I don’t think I’m in the wrong for being concerned about my safety.”

Soul face palmed at his friends’ obliviousness. “Has it ever occurred to you that she might not have done it? Ever since you guys became close, you know Y/N has been trying to change her nature. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, and especially not something that drastic.”

Riki let out a sigh as he remembered something he had been trying to push to the back of his head. “But that’s the thing, what if she doesn’t care about me as much as I thought she did?”

“Bro what-”

“Liz told me that Beomgyu likes her.” It hurt Riki’s heart to think about that fact. “What if she likes him back?”

Soul was about to voice his disagreement when his eyes trailed past Riki’s shoulder. Before he could tell him not to look, Riki was already turning his head to see what caught Soul’s attention.

But the sight was one he had been dreading to see. Beomgyu and Y/N were walking to class together, and they seemed happy to be together.

Since when were they friends? Was it because Riki hadn’t been by her side? And why hadn’t Beomgyu said anything about their new friendship?

Riki’s mind raced with the possibilities of how Y/N and Beomgyu had become friends. But no matter how they had gotten to that point, it didn’t matter.

Beomgyu was talking to Y/N. His Y/N. How could she stand there, and laugh, and look so beautiful?

How could she look so well when he was struggling so much internally?

Riki would never know just how much sleep Y/N was losing over everything, or how she had already planned out her apology.

“Maybe they’re just friends?” Soul suggested, not wanting his best friend to be upset. But even he couldn’t deny the seeming chemistry between the two.

“Don’t worry about Beomgyu, he’s not a threat.” Ningning’s voice was heard as she approached the two Wonderlandians. “Now Riki tell me, what did you say to Y/N? She hasn’t been herself these days and I know you have something to do with it.”

Riki was hesitant to tell Y/N’s best friend about what had happened, but maybe Ningning could clear some things up for him. So he described what occurred between the two of them that night in great detail, making sure Ningning was able to get the full picture.

Once he finished, he could tell the swan girl was about to slap him for what he said to her friend.

“Are you being serious right now?” Ningning scoffed. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were smart because you’re actually kind of dumb…”

Riki frowned. “Okay rude.”

Soul had to stop himself from laughing. “She kind of gagged you there…”

Ningning sighed. “Riki… Y/N was telling the truth, she didn’t do it. Her mom did.”

“...What?”

“You stupid hoe, I can’t believe you didn’t try to hear her out.” Disappointment could be heard all over Ningning’s tone, but Riki wasn’t paying attention to that.

All he could think about how he seriously messed up.

“Her mom thought you were a threat to Y/N’s success so she tried to get you out of the picture. But when Y/N found out about it, she yelled at her mom. Can you believe that?” Ningning said incredulously. “She’s terrified of her mother, but she yelled at her for you.”

He realized that he shouldn’t have gotten so defensive and just trusted his friend, after all, she had been showing that she did want to change. He should have trusted her and not let his emotions take over.

But after hearing about Y/N and Beomgyu possibly being together was just too much for him to think about, and he projected all that anger onto Y/N. The things he said and the way he acted were all uncalled for.

“Is she going to class right now?” Riki abruptly said, the only thought on his mind was that he needed to apologize.

“She’s kind of busy these days because she’s helping Chaehyun prepare for the dance, so I don’t think it’s a good time to approach her.” Ningning said. “Maybe try talking to her on the day of the dance?”

He didn’t want to wait for two more days but if Ningning thought that was best, he would trust her. Riki would wait for as long as he needed if it meant he could have Y/N back in his life.

Because more than anything, he missed her and her silly pranks.

୨:୧┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈୨:୧

10. I’ve always loved you.

“You look pretty, Y/N.”

Y/N snapped out of her staring contest with the mirror as Ningning entered her peripherals. The daughter of the Swan Queen, who usually wore her ballet style clothing, suddenly adorned a lilac dress that was shorter in the front and longer in the back with silver details sprinkled throughout. It resembled a forest design, which was befitting of her character since she was a swan after all.

Y/N, on the other hand, wore a darker purple dress that was of a similar length and had black lace around the top. Her voluminous hair was styled into pigtails and part of it was made to resemble cat ears. Her accessories complimented the outfit perfectly, and she felt good about herself for once in her life.

A sigh left Y/N’s lips. “Thanks Ning. You look beautiful too.”

Ningning frowned. “You’re still upset, aren’t you?”

And she was right.

True Heart’s Day. It was a night many people looked forward to, and a memory they all knew would solidify within each others’ long term memories. The aspect of getting dressed up and attending a formal event was a luxury that the attendees basked in for even days after the original event. The luminescent lights, the high energy music, the romantic atmosphere— it was all too exhilarating. Although the event wasn’t intended to be a romantic one, many students had made it out to be one. Being the daughter of Cupid, Chaehyun didn’t know if she was satisfied with that outcome or not.

But for Y/N, she hadn’t even wanted to go anymore. After her fight with Riki, being in such a romantic atmosphere only made her more upset than ever. It reminded her that no matter how much she tried to change or how often she attempted to prove that she was more than what the general public made her out to be, she would never be seen as who she really was.

And that made her feel like more of an outsider than ever.

“It’s nothing. I’m excited.” Y/N smiled at Ningning, in hopes that she would stop worrying. “Is it almost time? We should go before it’s too late.”

Ningning groaned, as she remembered where they were going. “Remind me why we’re doing this again? Dances aren’t exactly my type of scene.”

Y/N chuckled. “Because we have to be there to support Chae. She’s counting on us, you know?” She paused, and a sad expression made its way onto her face. “And I don’t want to disappoint anyone anymore.”

Ningning looked at Y/N with an expression on her face, feeling sad for her friend.

She could only hope True Hearts Day would go over well.

After walking around the forest for 15 minutes, Y/N could tell that Ningning didn’t know where she was going. Why would Chae organize the dance to be so far away from the school? She knew they were keeping everything on the down low, but still.

“You have no idea where we’re going, do you?” Y/N giggled as her best friend struggled to figure out where they were going. “Why don’t we just call Chae-”

“No!” Ningning shouted. “I mean, we can’t disturb her. I’m sure we can figure it out on our own.”

Y/N doubted Ningning’s words but didn’t vocalize that.

They wandered around for a few more minutes, when Ningning spotted someone in the distance.

Bingo.

“Beomgyu! Are you guys heading to the True Hearts Day dance?”

Y/N hoped that the other person with Beomgyu wasn’t who she was hoping it would be. But unfortunately, she rarely got what she wanted.

As she looked where Ningning was, Y/N could see Riki in all his entirety. It had been a while since she had fully looked at him, and she felt her heart stop. He was just as beautiful as he’d always been. Y/N couldn’t deny that despite being the one to cut off contact, she had missed him more than ever.

Maybe there was a part of Riki that missed her too?

No, that couldn’t be the case. He said it himself, she only made people miserable.

Deep down Y/N had been pondering on that possibility for years. But hearing someone verbalize it out loud and say it to her, especially someone she liked so much, was extremely hurtful.

But she knew she needed to hear it. Because now more than ever she’s felt sorry for her actions.

Though, did Riki have to be so rude about it?

“Yeah, we’re on our way right now.” Beomgyu answered Ningning’s question while Riki and Y/N had an intense staring contest. “What are you two doing here? Isn’t it in the other direction?”

Ningning facepalmed at her stupidity. They had been going the wrong way. “Oh yeah! I definitely knew that. I was just… making sure you guys would get there safe.”

Chuckling at her denial, Beomgyu smiled. “Right, because that makes so much sense.”

Y/N could see Ningning getting shy. “Well since we’re all here, should we just head over together?” Ningning suggested looking at Y/N to get her approval more than anything.

Although she had been avoiding Riki, Y/N really didn’t want any more bad blood between the two of them. Even if he would never like her back, she missed her friend and would do anything to fix everything. “I’m alright with that. But let’s go faster, because we’ll already be late enough as is.”

The four began walking together, the atmosphere silent but not awkward. They were lucky that they were decent enough friends with each other that being together wouldn’t be an issue.

However with Y/N and Riki too cowardly to apologize to one another, there was a slight tension in the air that was too thick for Ningning and Beomgyu to handle. The two made subtle eye contact, and nodded.

“Hey Y/N,” Beomgyu started, as he approached the distracted girl. “You look pretty.”

Y/N appreciated Beomgyu and his kindness, but she had wished those words were said by a certain someone instead. But she didn’t want to let her disappointment show, so Y/N did what she did best. Hide everything under her teasing personality. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Hood. I mean for once, you don’t look like you just finished rolling in dirt.”

“Oh please, says the girl who sleeps in trees.”

Riki frowned when he heard Y/N and Beomgyu bantering. Did she normally joke around with him like that? How often did they talk to each other? How long had they been friends?

He couldn’t help but feel himself getting jealous that Y/N teased other guys that weren’t him. Though, he should’ve expected it. After all, she teased everyone. Riki was never an exception. Although, he often wondered if her calling Riki by his last name was something she reserved for him or used on others.

But a thought crossed Riki’s mind. Perhaps he wanted to be the only guy that she teased.

“You’re sooooo jealous right now, aren’t you?” Ningning snuck up behind Riki and whispered in his ear. “She might need a little more than a push in the right direction.”

“Ningning wh-”

Ningning put a finger to Riki’s mouth as he was a little too loud for her liking. “Y/N. Be honest, do you like her?”

“I do.”

Before, he would hesitate before saying that he liked her. But at this point, he was too far down the ladder of love to even want to deny it anymore.

Riki Wonderland was in love with Y/N.

“I love her, Ningning. I always have.”

Ningning smiled. “Tell her that. She needs to hear it now more than ever.”

Riki looked past Ningning to where Beomgyu and Y/N were talking. They were a little in front of him, but far enough to where him and Ningning’s conversation would be inaudible. He admired the way she seemed to skip out of excitement, the way the sun made her look ethereal, and the way she made all her movements seem graceful. He glanced at the way her hand dangled on her side, lonely as ever.

He wanted to be the one to hold it.

After some time, the quartet arrived at the venue. Chaehyun had done amazing with the preparations; Y/N and Ningning couldn’t help but feel proud of their friend for what she did. It had taken a long time of planning, but the dance was finally fully fleshed out. It was truly an amazing feat she took up and she executed it beautifully.

There were pink and red hearts scattered around the room, as well as pink and red falling from the ceiling. The punch and snack table was well decorated with various kinds of snacks and spanned from one side of the room to the other. In the middle, there was a dance floor where Yoon Piper was stationed as the DJ. The room was already packed with most of the students in Ever After High, all high off the adrenaline of doing something so risky.

Beomgyu led Riki to meet up with some of their mutual friends who they spotted in the distance. Jungwon Croakington, Jake Charming, and Sunghoon Winter waved them over when they made eye contact. The group was situated near the punch bowl.

Y/N and Ningning went to find Chaehyun, who was sat alone at a table.

“Hey gorgeous,” Ningning complimented Chaehyun. “What are you doing over here alone?”

“After all the preparation I’m kind of tired. Isn’t that funny? I spent so much time making it perfect that I can’t even enjoy how it turned out.” Chaehyun bitterly laughed. “I was with Sullyoon earlier after she helped me set up, but I didn’t want to dampen her mood so I left.”

“But you look too good tonight not to enjoy it!” Y/N put her hand on Chaehyun’s. “Why don’t we go dance so you can loosen up a bit?”

Chaehyun shook her head. “Maybe later, I don’t think I’m in the mood right Besides, I think someone wants to talk to you right now.”

Before Y/N could ask what she was talking about, Chaehyun nodded her head over to where Liz was standing with a sheepish expression.

“Hey, Y/N.”

Y/N knew part of why Riki had lashed out at her was because Liz said something to him, she wasn’t dumb. But in all honesty, she didn’t hold it against the girl. After all, Liz had never acted maliciously towards her. She definitely had an explanation for what she did.

“I just wanted to say sorry for what happened with Riki.” Liz sighed with an apologetic expression. “I was under the impression that you were going to do something that was going to hurt him, and I was just doing what I thought was right. But I should’ve talked to you about it first and not just made assumptions.”

Y/N put on the most genuine smile she could muster to convince Liz she wasn’t upset with her. “It’s okay, you were just trying to be helpful. It’s my fault for acting this way in the first place. If I didn’t, then people wouldn’t have a reason to suspect me of doing bad things.”

Liz frowned when she said this. Did Y/N really see herself in that way? “But you’re more than just that! Throughout our time at Ever After High, I’ve always admired you.” Y/N’s eyes widened when she said that. “I mean, you’re already ready to sign the Storybook of Legends. Even with all the people who don’t like you, somehow you’ve always seemed to have everything together. And I think that’s really strong of you.”

Hearing that from Liz, knowing that there was someone out there who believed there was more to her than what she displayed, it was relieving.

Because it meant that there was the possibility for her to redefine her legacy.

“Thanks Liz, that means a lot to me.” Y/N gave the blonde a hug. “And… I’m sorry for waking you up from your nap that one time.”

Liz chuckled at the memory she had long forgotten. “It was getting late anyways. Maybe I should thank you instead.”

Once the two had finished their discussion, Liz left to go greet Yuna who had just arrived. That left Y/N… alone? She hadn’t even noticed that Ningning and Chaehyun left during her conversation with Liz. But where did they go?

Y/N’s cat eyes trailed to the side of the room and surely enough, she saw her best friends talking to Beomgyu and some of his friends.

Though, Riki was nowhere to be found.

Despite how scared she was to talk to him still, her conversation with Liz had given her a boost of courage and confidence in herself that she wouldn’t have had otherwise. There was something in her that told her she needed to go find Riki and clear the air, because she was tired of the pettiness.

She wanted Riki back.

Y/N needed to find him, but he was nowhere to be found inside of the venue. She looked all around and asked all the people who could possibly know where he was, but nothing was of any help. That’s when it clicked in her brain and she realized that she knew where Riki was all along, and she just hadn’t thought about it.

Before the night could end, Y/N went outside so she could find Riki.

Just as she had hoped, she had spotted him sitting on the branch of a tree, looking up at the stars. Y/N could notice his bed of fluffy hair from anywhere.

She tried to ignore the incessant racing of her heart while she thought about what she was going to say to him for the first time in a week.

“Is there any more room up here?”

Riki looked down when he heard her voice, the voice he had been waiting to hear all night. Memories from the night they spent stargazing when they were 11 filled his mind, as he shook his head. “I was just coming down.”

Riki climbed down the tree as fast as he could but not too fast to where it would ruin his outfit. He still wanted to look good for Y/N even if they were going through a tough time.

“Are you enjoying the dance so far?” Riki asked once he was on the ground and him and Y/N were facing one another.

There was a slight awkwardness in the air, but it was washed out by the fact that they were just happy to be speaking once again.

Y/N nodded. “Chae did a really good job with everything, even if I haven’t been able to enjoy it all yet.”

“What do you mean?” Riki could tell where she was going, but he wanted to let her speak before he made assumptions.

Swallowing her pride, Y/N looked into Riki’s eyes. Those eyes… she had missed them. There was an unreadable expression on Riki’s face that Y/N could only hope meant he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

She didn’t know that he wanted her more.

“I’m sorry Riki, for everything.” Y/N finally let out. “I’m sorry for pranking you so often, and I’m sorry for crossing lines that should’ve never been crossed. I just found you the most fun to prank, but I never wanted to do it so often to the point that it would make you uncomfortable. But I’m trying to get better at noticing those things.” Riki smiled at the fact that she was finally being vulnerable with him. He had waited years for this to happen. “I don’t want to keep secrets from you anymore. That day when we stargazed together, I ran away because I had a fight with my mom. She told me that I wasn’t good for anything, and that I should’ve never been born because I could never continue her legacy anyways. It got really tense between us so I ran away.”

As happy as he was that she was being open with him, he did feel upset with the reasoning. Not because he didn’t like it, but because he was upset it had happened and he couldn’t do anything to take away her pain. To think that she was carrying something so heavy for so long… All Riki wanted to do in that moment was take her pain away.

Riki gave her a sad smile and slowly raised his arms so they would be around his shoulders.

“May I?”

Y/N gave consent and Riki leaned into a hug. It was the first time they had truly been intimate, and it gave both teens a slight fluttery feeling in their stomachs. Faces red and heartbeats synced, the rush of young love was one too overwhelming to bear.

They unknowingly felt themselves succumb deeper and deeper into the feeling of loving one another, both itching to feel more of that lovestruck feeling they always felt when they were together.

“I have one more secret I haven’t told you yet.” Y/N whispered. She was too nervous to use her full voice, as she was afraid that it would come out shaky.

“What is it, Y/N?”

Y/N lifted her head from off of Riki’s shoulder and came face to face with him. Their faces were extremely close but neither wanted to change that. They stared into each other’s eyes for a short moment, though that moment felt longer than it really was.

“Riki, I love you. I always have.” Y/N confessed. “Ever since we first met back in Wonderland, I’ve always found myself drawn to you. And even though I never told you, you helped me a lot that day when I fought with my mom. I only became more infatuated with you from then on, and that’s why I pranked you so much.”

At her confession, Riki felt a wave of relief wash over his entire being. The fact that she felt the same way for so long made him even more giddy on the inside than he already was.

The feeling of having one reciprocate your feelings is something that can’t be replicated elsewhere.

“I love you so much and I don’t know how to handle it. What should I do?” Y/N finally felt comfortable voicing out all her thoughts that they were running out of her mouth like a water stream. She could only thank Riki for that. “How do I fix these feelings?”

Riki mustered up whatever courage was left within him to brush his hand against her lips ever so slightly. “Kiss me.”

After a moment of hesitation, the two leaned into each other until their lips met in a kiss. Both could feel a shock of electricity rush through as their lips melded together like they were always meant to. It only felt right and at that moment, they both realized something.

Perhaps it was all written in the stars.

Though both were inexperienced, so the kiss had ended just as quickly as it started.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Riki realized that he never explicitly stated his feelings to the girl, and he intended on doing so as passionately as he could. “I’ve loved you ever since the first time I saw you pull a prank on someone when we were 8. I’ve always been so interested in you, because you were always an enigma to me. But as we eventually got closer, I felt myself falling deeper in love with you as I learned something about you every day.” Riki was glad to get everything off his chest. “I love you so much that when you got closer to Beomgyu, I lashed out and took it out on you. Because I want to be the only guy you give your attention to.”

“I want to be the only guy you tease.”

Y/N was glad that they were shrouded in the darkness, because her face was burning up more than ever at his words.

She rarely got shy in front of people. But with Riki, the possibilities were endless.

“But I’m sorry for everything I said that day, I was just upset. You don’t make people miserable.” Riki apologized.

“Well I would hope not.” Y/N said with her signature grin, in order to lighten up the mood.

Even though nothing she said was particularly funny, the two found themselves bursting out into laughter. They were running on the emotional high they had gotten from the confessions. But now, knowing that their feelings for each other were felt by the other person, there was nothing left to hide.

Y/N was ready to show every side of her, good, bad, and ugly. Because for once in her life, she noticed that she was more than just the Cheshire Cat’s daughter.

Right then, in that moment, Y/N was capable of being loved for who she really was.

As the night came to a close, they could hear Yoon announce that a slow dance song would be played next from inside the venue.

Riki didn’t have to say any words for Y/N to know what he was going to ask her.

Once the music played, Y/N laid her head on Riki’s shoulders as he led her into a slow dance, their first slow dance as a couple.

Y/N sighed happily into Riki. “You know, you remind me of the stars.”

“Why, because my shirt is blue?” He retorted, referencing the blue top he had worn to the dance.

“No, stupid. I didn’t know why before but I think I figured it out.” Y/N giggled. “The stars are make up the night sky, and they have a place built for them. They’re beautiful. And to me, you’re all of that.”

Riki smiled with nothing but love in his eyes, and kissed Y/N’s forehead. “If I’m the stars, then you’re a constellation. Just like how the constellations connect the stars and make them whole, you do the same for me. You make me feel whole.”

No matter what, Y/N would always look up at the stars and think about Riki. They represented every part of him in his entirety, and she couldn’t get enough of it. Funnily enough, the stars seemed to be shining brighter than usual that night.

The two continued to slow dance into the night, both blinded by the wonders of young love. Being encapsulated by the giddy feelings and speaking sweet nothings to each other was the perfect way to end their story.

Ningning felt her heart swell with pride as she admired the newfound couple. After all the heartbreak Y/N had gone through in her life, it was refreshing to see her genuinely happy for once. She couldn’t help but wonder if she could experience the same soon enough. But that was a problem for another day. This was Y/N’s story, and she was glad to have contributed to her happy ending. She looked between Beomgyu and Chaehyun and nodded.

Chaehyun was relieved to know that Riki and Y/N ended up together. When she looked outside to see for herself if it was true, she let out a long sigh. It was about time.

The future Cupid winked at both of her friends, signaling that their plan had worked.

Perhaps she was better at matchmaking than she thought she was.

authors note. chaehyun beomgyu and ningning best plotters!!!

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